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[herushingu]

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[hold-him-down]

The Fighter - Chapter 1

Whumptober 2021 Prompt 2: Talking is Overrated

This is adult-themed and dark. THIS CHAPTER CW: forced medical trauma, restraint, gag, bbu-references, references to non-con, blood reference, vomit reference

“Luke Bennett.” Luke, somewhat begrudgingly, held out his hand to the man who greeted him in the small office. His fingers were cold, an unwelcome physical manifestation of the knots that his stomach had tied itself into. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way. He baselined at a cool-neutral and rarely deviated from there. It was a defense mechanism that he had picked up when he was first elected, three years prior.

“Senator Bennett,” said the man, taking his hand eagerly. “Edison Black. I’m so happy that you could visit today, I can only imagine how busy your schedule must be–” (Luke inhaled, smiled tightly) “–with the upcoming floor vote.”

“It’s something I’ve been hoping to do, to help me understand…” His thoughts diverted to recent debates, propaganda that hit him everywhere he looked, rallies and protests. The pictures and videos that haunted him in his sleep. He’s expecting you to speak, Luke. He cleared his throat and put a smile on. “To help me understand what’s happening, and why I should support it.” Or, rather, not be quite so vocal in his opposition.

“Of course,” Edison said. “Let’s head to my office, we’ll select an intake to review. I’ll walk you through the process, and I feel confident that when you leave, you’ll feel differently.”

As they walked through the snaking hallways, Luke took in as much as he could about the site. It wasn’t uninviting. In fact, the off-white walls, large framed pictures, certificates and other decor was almost soothing. He didn’t hear any screams, or even see any ‘workers’ (slaves, he reminded himself tersely). He half expected he might, but it was all very calm. Unsettlingly so.

In the intake wing, he was quickly ushered to a crisp office. “We have three on the docket for the morning with Dr. Hutton, let me see,” Edison said, scrolling through a much-longer-than-3 list of names.

Luke stood behind him, his brow knitted. He couldn’t force his stomach to settle; just being in this building felt wrong. But, he thought, at worst he would have a better position during the upcoming proceedings and a heap of new trauma to unpack with his therapist. At best, maybe he would see that the system wasn’t corrupt, and that it was working as intended. Which was to say, still indentured servitude, but with less direct assault.

He watched over his shoulder as Edison filtered the list three or four times, until it was as he said. Three 9-digit numbers.

Edison’s finger shot past the first, and he opened the second file. “Wait, go back,” Luke said calmly. After a moment of hesitation, he returned to the previous screen. Luke pointed to the first on the list. “This one.” His tone, he believed, sent a clear message that it was non-negotiable.

Edison released a tense breath; he nodded. “Of course,” he said, opening the file. “This way.”

✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ 

“Doctor Hutton will be ready to begin shortly; I’ll join. We’ll just be a moment,” Edison said, seeing himself out of the room. Luke wasn’t naïve to believe that their sidebar was strictly innocent, but it allowed him a moment to take in his surroundings. This room, unlike the common areas of the building, was cold.

His attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room and his breath caught. He was a doctor before he was a senator. While it felt like a lifetime ago, it wasn’t. He was used to seeing the injured and the sick. He was used to treating them. Hell, he had seen restraints and he had seen mental breakdowns and he had seen, what he thought, was all of it.

He was wrong, he realized. He made a conscious effort to keep the tension from registering in his posture. He stood at the corner of the small room, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw locked as he scanned the man, splayed haphazardly on the thin metal, his right hand handcuffed to the bar that ran the perimeter of the… exam table, he supposed.

He fought the urge to avert his eyes, forcing them to remain calmly fixated on corpse-like figure, who fought to suck in every breath he took. Luke began a mental inventory of what he was seeing, compartmentalizing everything that he could before the others joined him. If he was going to vomit, or if he was going to have a panic attack, he needed to get out of here before they returned. He pinched his eyes shut, sucking a breath in through his nose. He could do this.

Blood at his wrists, but he couldn’t identify it was from the cuff or from before.

Naked, skin littered with bruises and gashes. Some looked older, some could be as fresh as hours old. Tremors flowed through his body with every gasp.

He was gagged, a familiar-enough looking strap fixed a large rubber rod between his teeth. Luke wasn’t sure why, and for how long. There were time limits imposed when SB4559 was passed in 2051, he thought. Something like no more than 24 consecutive hours with oral restraint? It didn’t make sense though. Unless, the cynical part of him chimed, it’s just for fun. Luke shook the thought off; maybe he was… he tried, but couldn’t come up with a rational reason for this man to have an oral restraint. His eyes were closed. He was asleep, or sedated, maybe.

Luke cleared his throat as Edison and two other suited-men filed in. Edison, seemingly still in charge, took lead. “This is Dr. Michael Hutton, and his assistant, Joseph Avery.”

He could feel three sets of eyes on him, universally trying to gauge where he stood with this. It was no secret where he stood; he was one of the most vocal adversaries to the system. But this. This wasn’t even allowed within the system. This wasn’t the system that was being voted on. This was something else entirely. Why had they agreed to let him see this?

The doctor held out his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Senator. You’ve chosen quite an intake to see.” Tight smile. Tense shoulders. They hadn’t wanted this though, had they? Edison had selected another worker to observe. Luke had overstepped, and he regretted it.

“He was brought in in this condition, I presume?” Keep your voice even. Keep your gaze level.

“It happens from time to time,” Dr. Hutton responded softly, not meeting his eyes. “We take every measure we can to ensure that the workers are treated appropriately, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.”

Sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“And whoever was responsible– they’ll be charged?” Unlikely.

Edison cleared his throat. “We assess these types of things on a case-by-case basis. Most often, it’s consensual. The workers simply aim to please whoever holds their contract and sometimes allow things to get out of hand. Sometimes one may even indicate that he wants things to get out of hand. Occasionally it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Luke nodded tightly. “Of course.” He turned his attention back to Dr. Hutton who, on the most minuscule level, seemed more human. “Why hasn’t he been seen yet? He arrived…” Luke glanced through the information on the tablet. “5 hours ago?”

Dr. Hutton smiled, but it was Edison who responded. “We assess re-entry to our sites on a case-by-case basis.” It sounded like he was reciting some well-rehearsed lines. “He’s been unconscious, and so the doctors may have elected to wait.”

Luke nodded again. That was bullshit, and he had seen enough to know with certainty that the system was as corrupt as it was accused of being, if not worse. He was ready to leave. He reminded himself, though, that maybe it was his duty to see first-hand what was happening here. Maybe it would help. Maybe he could do something more than attend protests and speak at hearings and vote. He pushed everything down, brought himself back to the present.

“Can you begin now? I’ve been asked to observe the intake process, to get a sense of why I should back SB7447.”

“Perhaps we can find a more suitable intake for you to observe? This one is… atypical,” he said. He glanced at the doctor, and then at the door.

“This one is fine. What’s his name?”

With a sigh, Edison nodded, gesturing the doctor to begin. “Leo Evans,” he responded. The doctor first removed the gag. A small sound came out of the man and Luke tensed, locking his jaw. He was aware of Edison watching his every move, but he was sure they both realized that he was going to see the worst of whatever was going on here, like it or not. Maybe his presence would at least make it easier on Leo Evans.

They began methodically, running vitals and examining injuries. Leo, thankfully, had been sedated, Luke learned. He watched with as much detachment as he could muster, but every few minutes he had to remind himself that puking in this room was not an option. So he was frozen. He knew that Edison stood with him, and wondered briefly what went through that man’s mind. If he realized how fucked up this system was. He didn’t allow himself to contemplate the ethics of an implicitly abusive and corrupt government. He did allow himself to contemplate how he could do more to undo what had been done. How he could help Leo, and the others. He allowed himself to contemplate how they had gotten here.

The system had started as a way to curb crime, in the mid 2030s. Prisoners had been given the option to sign into the labor-force (slavery – but no one dared call it that), and years would be taken off of their sentences. Power leads to corruption leads to more power leads to more corruption. Ten years in, coercion was readily used to force criminals into labor. Twenty years in, rights started being stripped–

Leo cried out, snapping Luke back to the present. “Sedation’s wearing off,” the assistant said. Hutton nodded, as Leo pulled himself away from the doctor’s hands.

“It’s alright, Leo,” Dr. Hutton said. Luke couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a show. What this would look like if he wasn’t standing there. Dr. Hutton continued, pressing a stethoscope against his ribcage. Leo gasped at breaths, but stilled.

Luke once more focused on settling his stomach. In all likelihood, sixty years into this rapidly growing and evolving system of servitude, Leo wasn’t even a real criminal. Because it had been effective, hadn’t it? Major crime sure as shit had been curbed. And the laws started evolving. Minor crime became targeted as major crime, and what had previously been a slap on the wrist now was a life sentence of slavery.

Luke kept his eyes trained on Leo. He didn’t know what he could do. How he could stop this. The men rolled him to his side, examining his back, putting him back together as best they could. They examined him thoroughly, filling notes into the small tablets on the small trays that were now littered with bloody gauze, empty syringes, bandage wrappers, tools.

Don’t wake up, Luke urged him, as the men turned to their attention further down. The shield of detachment that he clutched desperately cracked as Leo began trembling. Do not wake up, he prayed, as the doctor gently pushed a small probe inside of him. Please, don’t wake up.

Leo’s eyes opened slowly, meeting Luke’s from across the room. Tears immediately fell, trembling intensified, breathing stopped all-together. His free hand clutched the same bar that his restrained hand was affixed to. Without missing a beat, Hutton’s assistant had a needle in his thigh, with a soft, “Easy,” as the man flinched. Within moments, his eyes rolled back. He was gone.

✥ ✥ ✥ ✥

After emptying the contents of his stomach in the restroom, Luke sat in a small waiting room, listening to as much as he could of the faint conversation through the door. They were careful to be quiet enough, but he could make out a good deal of what they had to say. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, but what choice did he have?

“She wants to… purchase… his…? That’s not legal.”

“It will be in two months. Do the collection, we’ll freeze it and be ready once the law is amended.” Luke closed his eyes, focusing on breathing. He was in a position of as much power as a man could be, and still he felt so completely powerless.

“Sir—”

“Look, I know you have a soft spot for these criminals. I get it, sometimes we walk a fine line.” There was a long pause, before Edison continued. “He’s still sedated, right?”

Luke felt the bile rising in his stomach, and forced it down. He stood, his hands fisting into tight balls, as he heard Hutton’s tense reply. “Yes.”

“Do it now, while he’s out. He doesn’t need to feel it. He doesn’t need to know about it.”

✥ ✥ ✥ ✥

The doctor’s face was ghost white when he walked into the waiting room. Luke could swear he saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

Luke wasn’t positive he understood what had transpired, and honestly, he was doing his best to come up with alternative scenarios to what his imagination was hurtling at him.

Hutton was already at the door when Luke decided to engage.

“What was that?” he tried, closing the distance to meet him.

Hutton paused, then turned. Definitely tears, threatening to spill from the fifty-plus year-old man’s eyes. Luke wasn’t sure if Hutton was going to answer him or ignore him completely as his hand found the handle of the door. It was irrelevant. Luke had seen and knew more than enough. He would file a lawsuit. He’d file a criminal complaint with the ICC, although that wouldn’t do jack shit. He would file with the FBI. He would go super public with what he saw, NDA be damned. “Do you mind if I move past you?” he eventually said, his barely-concealed rage getting the better of him.

Hutton was still for another moment before speaking. His words were not what Luke expected, to say the least. “Buy his contract,” the doctor said softly. So softly, he wasn’t even sure he heard it right. He took a step back. The doctor glanced nervously around the room, then stepped closer once more. “Buy his contract. The people who did this to him– they already have a bid out for his next contract. For the next year. If you put in a bid, you’ll get it. They want to see you participate in the system. It looks good for the system, and they hope that it’ll sway you to vote yes on the bill.” The doctor took a breath. “Please, buy his contract. Don’t make me do what they want me to do.”

Pause.

“Please,” he whispered again. “Your bid will override any other bids in the system. You’re a goddam senator. I know this is fucked up and I know that you know it’s fucked up. You can’t save everyone, but you can help that kid.”

They both knew it was true. As a senator, he would be given top priority, regardless of bid size, and regardless of who he was bidding against.

Edison walked into the room in a rush, stopping short when he saw the two men. “Senator,” he said, inclining his head. “I assume you got what you came for? I hope we can count on your support in the upcoming vote.” It was laced with a trace of humor. Fuck this guy.

Luke didn’t allow himself to react. A moment passed before he found himself speaking, without explicit permission from his more rational side. “I actually wanted to discuss something with you,” he said.

Edison glanced at his watch, then ushered him to the small set of chairs. Hutton left the room.

“I… I wanted to float an idea I had by you.”

Edison nodded.

“It’s about the boy– Leo.”

“Look,” Edison said. “I know he was a tough one to see; you should come back, see a normal intake. Generally speaking, it’s a much better time.” He smiled warmly, his first genuine smile at his own sort-of joke.

“Actually,” Luke said, steeling himself against the words that he knew were coming. “I was hoping to bid on his contract.”

The man’s facade broke momentarily before he put it back together. He swallowed, nodding. Letting the pieces fall into place. Considering his options. Accepting the facts for what they were. A sigh of frustration that morphed into a curt chortle. A tight-lipped smile. An eventual release of tension in his shoulders, as he recognized that there wasn’t a legal way to deny him this. “Okay.” He stood, wiping his hands on his pants with a tight-smile. “I guess we’ll need to… draw up some forms. I’ll bring you to the office, someone in admin can help you with paperwork.”

Luke followed behind him quietly, his mind spinning in a million directions. It was done.

next chapter

[queercapwriting]

Thasmin: Yaz gets Injured, the Doctor Carries Her (of course she does)

@syllabicacronyms prompted: ‘Yaz gets hurt and the Doctor takes care of her’

It should have been a routine day.

It always should have been a routine day.

But who does she think she’s kidding?

She’s punched through sheer diamond for billions of years, and she still gets surprised by days that are supposed to be routine, but are the furthest from.

Because that’s her routine, if she’s honest: destruction and death.

Sure, she tries to help. She tries to hope. She succeeds, sometimes; when her fam is around, her human friends whose eyes are so young, which she finds alternately terrifying and refreshing.

Today, it’s just terrifying.

Because Yaz had sprinted to help that child -- of course she had -- before any of them, even the Doctor, could have realized that the child was a grown Zygon, luring and preparing to attack.

The Doctor should have realized.

If she had, Yaz’s blood wouldn’t be on the Doctor’s hands, and Ryan wouldn’t be looking down at his friend like he’d seen a ghost, but the ghost was her.

It had been a simple matter to use her sonic to teleport the Zygon to a secure location -- a problem to solve later -- but she should have done it before, because she should have realized.

She was too careless, too reckless, too distracted, too... hopeful.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Yaz wheezed, because she must have seen something dangerous flash on the Doctor’s face. “Honestly, look. It’s only a flesh wound. It’s -- “

“It’s not only anything, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor murmured as she lifted her off the ground in arms that were stronger than anything her human family had expected, if the way Ryan and Graham ‘whoa’ed and Yaz gasped were any indication.

“Sorry, should have asked first,” the Doctor blushed, but Yaz just stammered and shook, wrapping her arms around the Doctor’s neck in a way that made both of them gulp.

“No, you’re fine, I just... I can probably walk, it doesn’t even hurt that -- “

“Let the Doc care for you, Yaz,” Graham encouraged, and Ryan nodded in the background, trying to subtly take out his phone to snap a picture of the Doctor carrying Yaz bridal style to the TARDIS’s medical bay.

“Yaz, we need to not disturb the wound, as much as possible. I have no doubt that you can walk, but if jostling that leg is just asking for an infection: Zygon wounds are not pretty, but you are, so I’d rather we keep you feeling that way.”

Yaz stared. 

Graham stared.

Ryan snapped the most priceless photo ever to be snapped.

The Doctor cleared her throat and turned a shade of red that Ryan desperately hoped his phone camera was good enough to capture accurately.

“Doctor,” Yaz whispered, and none of them could tell how much of the hitch in her voice was due to the Doctor carrying her, the pain in her leg, the Doctor calling her pretty, or all of the above.

Though they all assumed it was all of the above.

“Yasmin Khan?”

“We’ve reached the med bay. You can put me down now.”

“Right. Right you are.”

“But don’t go far.”

Excitement and something that looked an awful lot like hope returned to the Doctor’s eyes with a suddenness that was a wonder to behold.

“No?”

“No. I like you close. Makes the pain less.”

“Good, then.” It was the Doctor’s voice that cracked somewhat this time.

Ryan and Graham slowly backed out of the room, Graham muttering something about sandwiches and Ryan murmuring something about Yaz being in good hands.

And truly, she was.

[a-mothers-wings]

Not feeling so good...

Pharma help... I can’t get it to stop... -pinching her nose while the other is covered in a maroon liquid... much like blood- please help me... it just started happening.... my nerves feel fluke they’re on fire again... -tears up from the pain-

@betterdoctorthanyou

[queercapwriting]

Coming Back to You: Maggie in Gotham

Summary: “alex has a kid on her own (u choose how) and meets maggie again later and they slowly get back together” prompt from @thebiwisebrownkid

Parts 1-10 available through this link – https://queercapwriting.tumblr.com/post/173244948849/coming-back-to-you-part-10

If you prefer to have the whole thing collated, the series is now also its own thing on Ao3, here! http://archiveofourown.org/works/12935064/chapters/29561232

There’s blood streaming past her vision, and she suddenly wonders if this is where the expression “seeing red” came from.

Because Maggie is indeed seeing red, both physically and in terms of how incredibly enraged she is.

Not that any of that emotion shows on her face.

She waves off the rookie trying to assess the gushing wound above her eyebrow, and runs her hands over the young recruit’s shoulders. 

“You’re bleeding too, rook,” she murmurs, though she’s satisfied that the slash on his upper arm isn’t too deep.

“Captain Sawyer, let me -- “

“Shh.” She holds up a tense finger, and he falls silent instantly. She keeps her left eye closed: she’s not going to see anything through that stream of blood, anyway.

She squints with her right eye down the darkened corridor, mouthing out a countdown and nodding right before both squad captain and cadet step out from behind the filing cabinet they’d been squatting behind and shoot simultaneously.

The stun guns that Maggie had worked for years to get required for GCPD are nonlethal, always. Courtesy of Lena Luthor, they leave no marks and no bodily trauma, but they certainly pack a punch.

In moments, she’s crouching over the unconscious body of the man her precinct had been tracking for months.

“Looks like he didn’t expect the GCPD to have L-Corp tech,” a voice calls down from the rafters.

“Easy, Jimmy,” Maggie mutters, but she’s grinning.

“Batwoman,” he stands ramrod straight and nearly salutes.

If the red-head, now swooping down to stand with them, is amused, she generously doesn’t show it.

“Sawyer,” she greets, and Maggie nods with a barely suppressed smirk as she checks to make sure her mark hadn’t hit his head in the fall.

“Jimmy, wanna run and call this in?”

“I assumed you’d want to, Capt -- “

“The honor’s yours, kid. You earned it.”

The cadet nods and jogs out of the warehouse eagerly, where his radio will get crisper reception.

“You should have let him look at that eye,” Batwoman chides.

Maggie shrugs. “I’m fine, Kane.”

“If fine means you need stitches, sure. Come here.”

Maggie sighs but submits to her old friend’s care, chewing at the inside of her lip, hissing slightly in pain when Kate runs one of her newer gadgets over Maggie’s gash.

“It might scar, but you won’t need those old fashioned hospital stitches.”

Maggie smirks, finally. “Show off. But seriously, thank you. Couldn’t have caught this guy without your tip.”

“I’m sorry I had to call you out of National City. I just know this guy’s been targeting street-living kids, and you wanted him off the streets bad. I didn’t mean to take you from Alex.”

“How did you -- “

“Please, I know you, Sawyer. A few extra days in National City? Personal days? Personal days that you never, ever, ever take? You might as well have sent up a smoke signal that screamed Alex Danvers.”

Maggie chuckles even as she reddens. “A Danvers signal.”

“Not as cool as a bat symbol, but hey.”

“I want her back.”

She says it fast and pained, and she’s not sure if it’s pain from her now throbbing head or from her chest.

“I want her back, but she’s got this brilliant little kid. I met her, I ran into them, and Alex looks so... perfect, so happy, without me, and I... I was right. She’s a great mom -- “

“And you still want her back.”

Maggie jumps slightly as sirens announce backup’s (decidedly late) arrival. 

“It’s whatever.”

Kate sighs and touches her hand to Maggie’s non-bloodied cheek. “It’s not whatever, Sawyer. It’s your feelings. It’s real, and so are you.”

“Kate -- “

“It’s not whatever, Mags.”

And with that, she leaps. Maggie blinks, and her friend is gone. 

She can’t help but shake her head and smile. She’ll never stop being awed by how she does that.

She fills out her report with relish; she’s never liked the idea of putting anyone in a cage, but the system is what the system is, for now, and damned if she was going to let this man target any more brown and queer kids.

She’s so absorbed that she doesn’t look at her phone until well after sunset, well after her day shift crew have gone home to their families.

Finally, though, she drops her glasses onto her desk, sighs, and stretches as she looks around her office.

It’s still surreal. Having her own office. 

She stretches out her neck as she rifles through the files on her desk in search of her phone and checks it idly, not expecting much. Except perhaps a text from Kate. 

Maybe, if Kate doesn’t think patrol will be that intense tonight, they could grab a drink.

Maybe, she should call Alex. Apologize for leaving so abruptly.

No. Why would Alex want to hear from --

Her heart skips several beats. Because her notifications are full of texts from her ex.

[sunshine-zenith]

First Lines In Your Last Ten Fics

Rules: list the first lines of your last 10 published stories. See if there are any patterns yourself, or have other people say what they notice. Tag up to 10 friends!

I wasn’t tagged, I just randomly remembered this meme from a few years ago and wanted to do it again, to compare. If you see this and want to do it, tag me so I can see yours

From newest to oldest

1) “It's like a dance, almost.” From Maybe the World Could be Ours (Nimona)

2) “Anna’s heart is cold.” From Impaled (Frozen)

3) “Sometimes, Ballister lays there, bleeding.” From Nightmares (Nimona)

4) “A bird landed on the grass in front of him, a beautiful creature folding its wings elegantly before tilting its head.” From Hypothermia (Supernatural)

5) “‘This is a good thing,’ Iroh told himself as he brushed Zuko’s damp hair away from his forehead.” From Sickness (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

6) “99.7 F.” From Fever (Adventure Time)

7) “All she wants to do is sleep.” From All those nights when you've got no lights (Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake)

8) “There’s slow, soothing music coming from behind the kitchen door, and it’s just another thing in a long line of things that throws Mary off.” From Mid-Youth Crisis (Supernatural)

9) “Rolling fields instead of crowded hallways, endless starry skies instead of low flickering lights, peace and company with his favorite person under unscarred trees instead of thousands of questioning eyes -- these were the things Ambrosius longs for as he pushed around rushed medical staff and injured civilians.” From By Your Side Again (Nimona)

10) “There was an annoying buzzing just behind Dean’s ear, followed immediately by the uncomfortable itch of microscoping legs crawling over the back of his neck.” From How would I find myself without you (That, I'll never know) (Supernatural)

I feel like there’s a definite trend here, but I’m too tired and lazy to articulate exactly what it is. I guess I try to start with a description more often than an action, or have the action fold into the description, I think? Still, it’s fun going back and looking at your work, seeing if you have any Tells

[blog-of-complete-trash]

It's 9:57am, Thursday morning, I'm at school, and I'm stuck on the toilet because I just bled all over my underwear and need a new pair and don't have any tampons or pads. This is hell. This is truly, truly hell.