#supervillain whump

[syncopein3d]

Broken World

5: The Unlikely Truth

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Content Warning: injection, blood transfusion

Something stung a little. The Ripper ignored it for a while, but the weird spreading feeling of warmth radiating from the inside of their left elbow eventually made it impossible to stay under. It blinked and squinted. The room was dark, and it was lying on something soft – comforter? It tried to shift position and a hand planted squarely just below their collarbones stopped them from moving.

“Hold still. We got a couple more to go,” said Robert. The Ripper turned its head. He was holding one of the syringes from the duffel, gradually injecting what looked very much like blood into the vein in the crook of its elbow.

“Type,” the Ripper croaked.

“I’m O Negative, so what you are doesn’t matter. Hold still. I said I’d fix it, and I will.”

The Ripper grunted, other hand still reflexively wrapped around Robert’s arm. It didn’t remember grabbing on, and it hadn’t made the slightest impression. There might be a big gap between how strong Robert was and a B level like Teledyne, but it was now equally obvious there was also a big gap between what Robert described as a “slightly strong regen guy” and someone with no strength meta at all. It couldn’t have budged him on its best day.

“Did you used to do heroin?” Robert asked. “Your arms don’t look like it.”

“Testosterone,” Ripper said. “You don’t use a vein for T.” It shrugged the arm he wasn’t holding. “Decided it wasn't for me. I just never threw the needles away. Isn’t O Negative rare?”

“Least common on Earth, probably,” Robert said. “They bred us for it. I’m going to fill another one. Are you gonna be still?”

“Yeah,” the Ripper said. “That feels… Weird…” Now it could feel warmth creeping up its arm, a strange inverse of the cold burn of anesthetic. And where it went, the pain went with it. That arm didn’t hurt at all now, the permanent ache fading away as if by magic.

“It’s nice to have it back,” Robert said. “I don’t know how you can live with that much pain.”

“You get more used to it as the years go by,” the Ripper said. “And you work around it.” They looked up and found Robert looking down at them, eye to eye. Now they could actually see his eyes, they were light brown, almost yellow. The pupils were big in the dark. It had never imagined him as having much of an expression. There was something there now. It wouldn’t have said what.

“Well, at least I can take it away for a little while,” Robert said. “I’m a man of my word. That’s why I try not to give it.”

He pulled the needle, ignoring the little drop of blood, and plunged it right back into his own arm with no apparent concern for contamination. “They made us do our own blood draws,” he said. “So they wouldn’t have to come into the pod. I got real good at this part.”

“That seems like it would be a bad memory,” the Ripper said. The warm feeling had dissipated a little when it hit the throat and jaw, but it felt good enough to sap any urge to protest. They watched Robert thump their elbow and effortlessly find a vein again. It didn’t hurt as much this time.

“Not really. It was an everyday thing. I didn’t even know it was bad there until I saw what outside was like,” Robert said. Warmth blossomed through the Ripper’s face and chest. Belatedly, they realized they still felt the N95. Robert had left it on them.

The Ripper inhaled slowly, trying to remember when their lungs and chest had last felt this elastic. They hadn’t thought of breathing as hard, but suddenly it felt so easy. Everything felt a little clearer. They could flex their toes and not cause a thigh cramp, close and open a hand and not bind up their elbows.

“There you go,” Robert said quietly. They looked at him sidelong and found him watching again, unblinking, almost eager. “Feels better, yeah?”

“Yeah,” the Ripper said. Its voice even sounded different. It didn’t remember hearing itself sound like its throat wasn’t raw. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Robert cleared his throat as he took the syringe back for a third refill, looking down at it and away from Ripper’s face. “It’s just. I never done this on purpose for somebody. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Well, I definitely won’t sell you out to a pharmaceutical company,” Ripper said. “Pretty sure you’re not worth nine hundred million.”

Robert laughed, an actual full-throated guffaw. “Nah, I doubt anyone’s offering over one, even. Okay, last one, I think. You sound better.”

“I still can’t believe you weren’t lying.”

“Well, it won’t stop you hurting yourself again,” Robert said. “So you still gotta go talk to the crazy lady.”

“Does everyone really call you Robert?” Ripper asked. It watched him apply the third syringe almost reluctantly. It felt something was ending.

“No. I just like Robert. Mostly when I’m working I go by Bloodless.” He sounded dry, almost rueful. “I didn’t pick it. My arteries close fast enough there’s no splatter when I get shot. Somebody noticed and it stuck.”

The Ripper snorted. “I think I saw a contract on a Bloodless once. It was for five million. That’s a lot for an unregistered C-level.”

Robert shrugged modestly. “Been a busy couple of years,” he said. “See you around, thing.” He snatched at Ripper’s tank top front faster than they would have thought possible, yanking it up over their eyes. By the time they had fumbled it clear, he wasn’t in the room any more.

Somewhere in the vastness of the empty house, a door closed.

“In no shoes and no shirt?” the Ripper said aloud. Nobody answered. Robert was gone.

The End

(For Now)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Supervillain whumper who never hesitated to discard an underling when they lost their powers or became too hurt to fight.

So when they end up depowered and physically broken themselves, they expect to be treated no better.

[spiralofwhump]

It’s almost 3 am and I’m thinking about (super)villain whump- Maybe a hero tries to torture villain in an effort to rid them of their villainous mindset, if negotiating and talking won’t work, perhaps torture will? Maybe Hero genuinely believes that torture is the only way to help the villain turn over to the good side Or maybe Hero is doing this purely to hurt Villain back for all those they have hurt, they don’t want villain to be good or for them to see the error of their ways...Hero just wants them to hurt

[blood-of-ink]

Like Broken Glass- 3

Warnings: Fever, past torture, mild pneumonia, scared whumpee, begging, mentions of nightmares.

Taglist: @whumpwillow, @stuck-in-this-mortal-form, and @equestrianwritingsstuff,  and @neverthelass

Supervillain drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he was aware of who was with him, other times he wasn’t.

Right now, it was Civilian curled up in the chair next to his bed, wrapped in a blanket.

“She had nightmares about you.” Supervillain flinched at Villain’s voice, shrinking back as the other man walked into view.

“About how you were going to drown her.” Villain glared at him. “Do you have any idea how awful it is to hear your sister screaming in the middle of the night, crying that she doesn’t want to die?”

Supervillain closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I doubt I could ever explain it to you.” Villain hissed. “So, I’m sure you understand why I’m not too sympathetic towards you.”

“Please.” Supervillain whimpered. “I... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.” Villain replied. “Because you know exactly what it’s like now, don’t you?”

Supervillain sniffled, looking away.

“Don’t you?” Villain growled.

“Yes.” Supervillain whispered.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” Villain sneered.

“Neither will your head after I pound it so hard you have three tongues in your shoes.” Civilian’s voice said coolly. “This isn’t the time for your ranting, Villain.”

“Did you just threaten to beat me over the head?” Villain demanded, ignoring the rest of what his sister had said.

“Yes.”

“Way to show appreciation Snip.” He huffed, shaking his head slightly.

“Stop being a bully, then.”

“Was anything I said untrue?”

“No, but it’s not what you said, it’s the reason you said it. To be an asshole.”

“Hey-”

“Oh come on. We both know that’s why!”

“He needs to-”

“No, you need to stop.”

Villain just scowled, and stalked away.

Civilian sighed, and looked down at Supervillain, who flinched back with a groan.

“Please, I’m so sorry, I’ll never do anything like that again, I promise, please-”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Supervillain.” Civilian said, though she wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry I tried to hurt you... I-I’m so sorry.”

Civilian just nodded, then tentatively, she put her hand on his forehead, and winced.

“I’m gonna go get Hero, you’re still burning up.”

Supervillain swallowed thickly as he remembered what he’d done to Hero. Whipped him, beaten him, broken his leg.

“N-no, please don’t.” He stuttered, reaching out and weakly grasping at Civilian’s wrist. “Please- I don’t-”

“Supervillain, it’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.”

“Please.” He whined, too terrified to listen to reason. The memory of the torture, the whip, the beatings, the water boarding. It was all too much.

“N-no! Please, no more! I’ll never do it again, please, please make it stop! I’m sorry!”

_____

Civilian knelt next to Supervillain as he fell into a full blown panic attack.

“Please, please, no more! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything! Please, don’t hurt me!”

“Hush.” She said softly, cupping his flushed face in her hands. “Hush now, it’s alright.”

“No...” He whined, terrified eyes locking onto hers.

“Lie still, Supervillain, it’s okay now. You’re not there anymore.”

He took a shuddering breath, and began to cry.

It was so unnatural, watching a once deadly criminal mastermind sobbing like a frightened child, shaking uncontrollably in the blankets.

“Hush, it’s alright, you’re safe now.”

He looked up at her with wide, imploring eyes.

“Please...” He whispered again, his eyelids beginning to droop. “Mercy.”

With that, he passed out.

Civilian sighed, going into the bathroom to get a wet cloth, which she laid across his blistering forehead, brushing his damp hair back.

“It’s alright now.” She murmured, gently taking his hand.

[shydragonrider]

In the Silence - 3

Warnings: Fever, delirium, begging, surgery mention, pneumonia, antibiotics, oxygen mask.

Taglist: @whumpwillow, @equestrianwritingsstuff, @everynameistakencarrots @whumpsday

and @purple-heart-x

**************************

Bella watched Joe examine Wrath, who was lying limp on the bed. The Supervillain’s fever was concerningly high.

“It’s not an infection. The incision is fine.”

“What is it then?”

“I’d say, based on his labored breathing, and the fact that he inhaled water... that he has pneumonia.”

Bella sighed, not really listening to Ben’s answer. She paced up beside the shivering Supervillian, who whimpered as Joe carefully probed the awful bruising on his abdomen, his grey eyes fluttering open.

"Nnghh- n-no. Pl-plea-se..." He whined, his already uneven breaths hitching, whether from panic or pain she didn’t know.

“So what do we do?” Ben was asking.

“I’ll get an IV with antibiotics, you two can go back to bed.”

Bella shook her head. “I won’t be getting anymore sleep tonight.” She said softly.

“Suit yourself, Belladonna.” Joe replied, stifling his own yawn.

“You set up the IV, and I’ll watch him.”

*******************

Caspian struggled to focus, in his semi-conscious state, he was vaguely aware of voices, but he couldn’t focus on whatever was being said.

His chest and stomach hurt, so badly he felt sick. But he couldn’t muster the energy to move.

He shifted weakly, whimpering miserably at the pain that shot through his body with every breath.

Something cold and hard touched his chest, and Caspian squirmed, but was too sick, and too weak to do much more than that. He was completely helpless.

"Please..." He cried weakly.

“Easy, lie still.”

“W-where ‘m I?” He whimpered, trying to focus on one of the blurry shapes leaning over him.

“You’re somewhere safe.”

Caspian shuddered, panting in hot, uneven breaths. Surely no one would ever help him. It had to be a trick.

Agitated, he squirmed weakly, disoriented and terrified.

I-I c-can’t take this a-anymore." Caspian choked out, too exhausted to keep struggling. He went limp on the bed, whimpering pathetically as his chest throbbed.

“P-please stop. It h-hurts.” He mewled, crying again.

“I know.”  One of the voices said softly. “I need you to lie still a little bit longer. You’re doing well.”

Caspian sniffled, his eyes slipping closed.

**********

Bella gently hushed Wrath’s whimpering as Joe finished attaching the IV to his wrist.

“I’ll be back to check on him in an hour, call me if anything changes.” Joe told her.

Bella nodded, watching him go, before she turned back to Wrath. He was drenched in sweat, and shivering. Wordlessly, she pulled the sheet up over him, watching as he snuggled underneath it with a pathetic little squeak.

It was easy to forget that he was a Supervillain. The worst one in the entire region too. People feared his name.

Yet here he was, curled up under the blankets, shuddering and moaning in pain.

It surprised her, how quickly he had gone from menacing to piteous. Not even twelve hours ago, he had looked so bloodthirsty and vicious. Now he just looked terrified.

Bella sighed, and sat down on her bed, not taking her eyes off her unconscious enemy.

[onlybloodandwhiskey]

hey shade 🙃🙃 ► slap Delusion :)

Raccoon why would you do this to Shade, that's so mean!!

**

Shade lashed out before they could register what they were doing, their palm cracking into the side of Delusion's face with a sound that seemed to echo.

They drew their hand away from him like they'd been burned, blood pounding in their ears as they realised what they'd done. They'd lost themself in the moment, lashed out. They'd been scared.

They'd suffer for it now. They knew it.

"Delusion, I-" They started, taking a nervous step back.

They were cut off by a hand, grabbing their jaw, lightning quick. Delusion held them tight, his fingers digging in, grip tight and unforgiving.

"Do you think you can treat me this way, Nightshade?" He asked, tone cold.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!" They tried. Delusion pulled their head up, forcing them to meet his eyes. He stared at them like he was looking into their very soul, cold steel eyes hard and unforgiving.

"Good." He said, and for a moment, Shade let themself relax. "We'll punish you for this transgression, and say no more on it." He continued, reaching down to grab their hands in an iron grip, and Shade's heart sunk. This was going to be a very bad day after all.

[blood-of-ink]

Like Broken Glass - 2

Warnings: Aftermath of torture -whipping, waterboarding, beatings. Fever, delirium, infection, anxiety disorder, needle tw, sedatives tw.

Tagging: @whumpwillow, who made me like Whumperees, and @stuck-in-this-mortal-form

________________________________________________________________

Civilian hugged her arms, trying to control her anxiety at the current situation.

She’d called her brother, and told him what was happening. He’d made his displeasure with the idea of helping Supervillain very clear.

Hero was grabbing the first-aid kit, and Civilian stood beside the pullout couch, looking down at the shivering mess who was weakly begging not to be hurt anymore.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Civilian murmured, pushing away the memory of how he’d been about to hold her under the water. Something that, based on his wet coughing, had also happened to him.

Supervillain flinched away from her, whimpering.

“Please- I can’t do this anymore. Please, please, no more! I’m sorry.”

“Ssssssshhhhh, Supervillain, I’m not here to hurt you.” Civilian murmured, even as Hero limped over with the medical kit.

His eyes held nothing but pity as he looked down at the man who had injured him so badly.

Supervillain thrashed weakly, whipping his head from side to side.

“Please...” He whined, tears streaking his flushed face.

“Easy there. It’s okay.” Hero said kindly, as Civilian nervously reached out, gently brushing Supervillain’s damp hair off of his forehead.

He whimpered softly, but didn’t try to pull away, which seemed like an improvement, however small it may be.

_________________

Supervillain startled at a distorted pounding noise, a sob hitching in his throat.

He heard distant sounding voices, but the words were lost on him. Something cold and wet touched his stomach, and he flinched away with a distressed whine.

“Easy.” A vaguely familiar voice said softly. “Easy there. It’s okay.”

Supervillain groaned in reply, trying to shrink back into the softness of whatever he was lying on.

Bright, hot pain flared through his stomach, and he cried out.

“N-no! No, please.” He blubbered. “I can’t- I’m sorry! I wasn’t- please no!”

“Hey, it’s okay.” The voice speaking now was different, he was sure. “It’s okay, just try to breathe.”

Supervillain whimpered.

Something touched his forehead, so gentle and soft that he couldn’t help but press into it slightly.

“It’s going to be okay.” The voice said quietly.

Supervillain felt a sharp prick in his arm, and yelped in fear.

“Sssssshhhh, ssssshhhh. It’s going to be okay.”

Supervillain couldn’t resist the darkness that was enveloping him. With a low moan, he slipped into unconsciousness.

______________

Civilian watched as Hero began to stitch the wounds, while Villain opened the rolls of bandages. She’d never seen her brother speechless before, but all of his complaints about helping Supervillain had ceased the minute he saw just how terribly sick his rival was.

Civilian tied the garbage bag with the bloody rags and tattered clothes, taking it down to the furnace.

When she returned, Supervillain was still sleeping peacefully.

The next two days, he remained delirious, weakly pleading for mercy, and flinching at every sound. It was almost dawn of the third day since they’d rescued him that he started to wake up.

_____________

Supervillain cracked his eyes open blearily, trying to figure out where he was. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, but this didn’t look like a hospital.

He lifted his head, gaze landing on the figure curled up, asleep, in the chair at the foot of the bed.

It was Civilian. The girl he’d kidnapped.

Supervillain panicked, desperately struggling to sit up. Civilian’s eyes shot open, and she bolted upright.

Before Supervillain had time to register that she was moving, she was on top of him, straddling his waist, and holding his wrists against the bed.

She was half his size, but he was too weak to fight back against her. Instead, he slumped back to the bed with a pathetic whine.

“Don’t hurt me. Please! Please, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” He sobbed.

“Sssssshhhh, Supervillain, just calm down. You’re gonna tear your stitches.”

It was only when she said this that he realized his torso was wrapped in bandages.

Agitated, he struggled against her hold, whimpering.

“Hero!” Civilian called. “Villain! I need some help in here.”

Villain was the first to arrive, and Supervillain cowered away from him, sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” Villain asked.

“He’s scared out of his mind, and still burning up.”

“Right. And what do you want me to to?”

“Help me make sure he doesn’t injure himself further, Brains.” Civilian said, rolling her eyes.

Just then, Hero hobbled in, still using crutches from when Supervillain had broken his leg.

Supervillain thrashed again, trying to throw Civilian off of him, only to cry out as a blaze of agony rushed through his stomach.

He’d torn his stitches. Just like Civilian had said he would.

“Ssssssshhhh, sssssshhh. It’s okay.” Civilian soothed, climbing off of him, and sitting next to him, while Hero began to cut the bandages.

Supervillain moaned, all of his terror-born strength leaving him. He looked helplessly up at Civilian.

“Where am I?” He rasped.

“You’re at Hero’s place. We took you away from the base.”

“Why?”

“Because they were hurting you.”

“Why do you care?” Supervillain rasped.

“Because...” Civilian trailed off.

“We’re not like you.” Villain snapped.

“Villain!” Civilian shot a glare at her brother.

“What? It’s true, and we all know it.”

Civilian narrowed her eyes, then shook her head with a sigh.

“Ignore my brother. He’s a bit touchy sometimes.”

Supervillain shivered.

“It’s okay. We’re going to fix this.” Civilian said gently, and he noticed for the first time how kind her eyes were.

As the cold air touched his stomach, he whimpered and flinched back.

“Easy. It’ll be okay.” Hero murmured, as he began applying pressure to the injury.

Supervillain no choice but to believe him, with a weak groan, he closed his eyes.

[shydragonrider]

When the Darkness Comes -2

Warnings: Poisoned, respiratory distress, high fever, needle tw, nausea, begging, scared whumpee, harsh caretaker, parental death mention.

Tagging @whumpwillow and @thelazywitchphotographer

“How does the poison work?” Hero asked.

Superhero frowned. “It will cause his organs to shut down.”

“But you have the antidote?”

“Yes. Though if we don’t find him soon, it will be too late to matter. Maybe it already is.”

They had spent nearly five hours searching for Supervillain. And of course, he had run off towards the woods. Hero tried her hardest not to jump at every shadow, the memory of his hands around her throat still fresh in her mind.

“He couldn’t have gotten far. It incapacitates quickly.” Superhero called.

Hero continued down the footpath, shining her flashlight through the dark trees.

A new sound, one that had nothing to do with the sleet, reached her ears. It sounded like... Breathing?

“Superhero. I think I’ve found something.” Hero called in a hushed tone, and crept off the path, rounding a tree.

Supervillain was sprawled out on his stomach, his ribs heaving with each labored breath.

Hero hesitated, remembering how he had tried to strangle her. Then, she crouched by his side, and, bracing herself, she flipped him over onto his back, even as her sister joined her.

His heavy breathing hitched, and he struggled weakly, eyes rolling wildly in his head.

“Lie still.”

“H-hero?” Supervillain stuttered, his already labored breathing increasing to the point that he was gasping.

“Calm down.” Hero said quietly, but Supervillain was in no state to see reason.

Superhero crouched beside him, grabbing one of his arms, and uncapping a syringe.

Supervillain whimpered, trying to tug his arm free.

“N-no. You- hnghhh, y-you don’t- I c-can’t...”

“Shut it.” Superhero snarled, ignoring Hero’s glare, and jabbing the needle into Supervillain’s arm. The man whimpered, struggling feebly.

“Pl-plea-please.” He stammered. “I- nghhh, It’s n-not, I-I don’t-”

“I said shut up.” Superhero snapped.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Hero said quietly.

“This fucking bastard tried to strangle you a few hours ago, Hero. Do you really think I care about his well-being?”

Supervillain whined, shifting weakly on his back.

“Just because you inexplicably want to save him doesn’t mean he deserves it. Just because he’s hurt now doesn’t excuse anything that he’s done.”

“No. It doesn’t.” Hero agreed.  “But he’s hurt and sick and terrified. You don’t need to make it any worse.”

“Why do you care so much about the man who tried to murder you?”

At the words, Supervillain whimpered.

“I-I-I’m -hnnn- sorry. So, so s-sorry.”

Superhero glared down at him.

“Sure you are.” She sneered, and Hero clenched her teeth.

“Now what?” She asked, voice tightly controlled.

“Now, we wait. If he makes it through to sunrise, he may be able to pull through. But even if he does...”

“What?”

“He’ll be sick for days. Weeks even. And there’s nothing that can be done about it. But then, it’s not our problem. We just take him to jail, and be done with him.”

“We can’t.” Hero whispered.

“Why not? What’s the problem now?”

“They’ll leave him to rot if we turn him in.”

“Is that less than he deserves?”

Supervillain shivered, a broken sob wracking his body.

For a long moment, Hero didn’t answer. After all, didn’t he deserve it?

She shook herself. “Mom wouldn’t have-”

“Mom is gone, Hero.”

“Yeah, but what she taught us isn’t. She wouldn’t have left him to rot in a cell.”

“Hero. People like him are the reason mom is gone.”

“It wasn’t him, though.” Hero said, gently brushing Supervillain’s soaked hair off of his scorching forehead.

Supervillain moaned, closing his eyes.

“What do you propose we do. Take him home?”

Hero looked up at her sister.

Superhero shook her head. “No! No! I won’t allow it. We are not bringing this bastard home.”

Hero sat back, crossing her arms, glaring at her older sister until she relented.

“You’re lucky I love you.” She hissed, and took her phone out, calling their brother.

**************

It was 5:30 in the morning when Hero unlocked to door to the conjoined house she shared with her siblings.

Behind her, Brother came in, the shivering Supervillain slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

He walked right through to the guest bedroom, and more or less dropped Supervillain on the bed.

Hero looked over at her brother.

“Why the hell do you want to save this monster, Hero?” He asked.

Hero said nothing, and he shook his head, walking out and closing the door.

Hero sighed, walking into the bathroom, and stripping off her wet clothes, once she had changed, she went to her Brother’s room, and grabbed a pair of boxers, a t-shirt, and a first aid kit, before walking back to Supervillain’s side.

It was hard to believe that mere hours ago he’d tried to kill her. He’d been so smug and cruel.

Now he was lying in her spare bed, trembling all over.

Hero picked up a pocket knife, cutting the man’s soaked shirt off.

He groaned as she wiped a disinfectant over the puncture wound in his side, and the exit wound on his back.

“Pl-please...” He rasped, picking his head up, only to drop back to the pillow, whimpering in pain.

Hero said nothing as she bandaged him. She didn’t know what to say. After all, he had tried to throttle her.

Maybe Superhero is right... Maybe I should just take him to the authorities.

But she knew that there was no way that ended well for Supervillain, and as of now, he was her responsibility.

[shydragonrider]

When the Darkness Comes

More Supervillain whump.

Warnings: Fighting, shot with an arrow, poisoned. Asshole whumpee, namecalling, a teensy teensy sprinkle of lady whump. (Not torture.) grabbed by the neck. Blood loss, collapsing.

Tagging @whumpwillow, and @thelazywitchphotographer

Chapter two will be up later today.

“You really thought you could beat me?!” Supervillain’s tone was both incredulous and mocking. "A runt like you? Ha! you’re nothing.”

Asshole. Hero thought, wiping her bloody nose with the back of her hand, she got to her feet, coughing.

“But you have fight, don’t you, brat?” Supervillain sneered, he strutted closer to her. “I’ll admit, I’m starting to understand how you took Villain down. But you’re out of your league now.”

Hero glared at him.

“If you beg, I won’t kill you. Just maim.” His teeth flashed in a wicked grin.

“If you shut up, I won’t kick your teeth out. Just break your nose.” Hero snapped in reply.

“Fine.” Supervillain laughed. “Remember that you chose your fate.”

“And you chose yours.” Hero snarled.

In the distance, the chiming of a clock announced that it was midnight.

Hero lunged at Supervillain, slicing his arm with her knife. He hissed in pain, grabbing Hero by the shirt, and throwing her into the ground.

He was on top of her before she could get up, his rough hands wrapping around her throat.

Hero thrashed, trying her best to dislodge him, to pry his hands away from her throat. He sneered at her.

“Just give up.”

Blackness was closing in on her vision when Supervillain jerked, releasing her neck with an angry growl.

Gasping for breath, Hero turned onto her side, gaze landing on the arrow that had gone through the soft flesh beneath Supervillain’s ribs.

“Well well.” He said, his voice tight with pain and fury. “Superhero. Come to save your baby sister?”

“Come to finish you. How dare you touch her?” Her sister’s voice was closer to a snarl.

“Don’t take it so personally, Superhero. The runt knew what she was doing.”

Hero watched her sister release another arrow. The silent alternative to a gun, but this time Supervillain was able to dodge it.

“This isn’t over, you bitch.” He spat, backing into an alley, and disappearing into the shadows.

Superhero helped Hero up.

“What were you thinking, taking him on alone?”

“Scold me later! We have to go after him-”

“No. We’re going home.”

“We have to catch him.”

“It doesn’t matter, Hero. The arrow was poisoned.”

Hero stared at her older sister.

“Since when do you use poisoned arrows?”

“I don’t usually. Against Supervillain... well, all is fair in love and war.”

“How lethal was the poison?”

“Without the antidote, he’ll be dead before dawn.”

“Then we should try to find him.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re the heroes! We can’t just abandon him to die of the poison, no matter how cruel and vicious he is.”

“Someday, sweet sister, those morals will get you into a situation that I won’t be able to save you from.”

*****************

Supervillain swallowed back the bile in his throat, unable to understand why he suddenly felt so weak and ill.

The wound hadn’t hit anything vital, and even when he had broken the shaft and pulled the arrow out, he had applied enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

So it wasn’t bloodloss.

The light drizzle of sleet was becoming heavier, and he felt both cold and overheated at the same time.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he stumbled, trying to keep his balance.

He choked and gagged, a violent shiver running through his body.

What the hell did that bitch do to me? He wondered, genuine fear gripping him for the first time in years.

He looked down at his side, peeling his shirt away from his wounds. His breathing quickened as he saw the black veins spreading out from the hole.

There was only one thing that would to that. Poison.

Supervillain began hyperventilating, even as his legs gave, and he blacked out.

[shydragonrider]

Torn - Chapter 8

Warnings: Grief, tears, kind of a hallucination, mentions of death, survivors guilt.

Taglist: @whumpwillow @brutal-nemesis @equestrianwritingsstuff, @teheranb, @befuddled-calico-whump @professional-idiocy, @whumpilicious, @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19

Pandora had not been able to sleep, so instead, sat by the window, watching the rain, and reminiscing about Kelly.

The two had been identical, alike in every way. The only difference between them, was that Kelly had shorter hair, with blond highlights.

But, as Pandora had learned the hard way, that was not always enough to distinguish between them.

It had been just a week after Kelly’s death that their father had come home late, drunk. It was how he dealt with the pain.

In his drunken state, along with the darkness of the hall, he’d mistaken Pandora for her twin. In her mind’s eye, she could still she the way he dropped to his knees to hug her.

“Kelly, my baby girl. We’ve been so worried about you.”

Pandora hadn’t had it in her to correct her father, so she’d said nothing as he went to bed, and fell asleep quickly.

The following morning, he didn’t remember, but she never forgot.

But that wasn’t what had torn the family apart. Her father had blamed her. 

She’d been fourteen at the time, and she and her father had gotten into an argument. He’d told her she wasn’t responsible enough to get a pet snake.

Pandora had argued that he didn’t know that.

‘Actually, I do. I do know. Because if you were fucking responsible, then your sister would still be here.’

Her mother had immediately jumped to her defense, telling Dave that it wasn’t Pandora’s fault that Kelly had died, and he’d cut her off.

‘Isn’t it? Face it Lisa, Pandora put her in the path of that car.’

‘She did not!’

‘I didn’t mean to.’ Pandora had said at the same time. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

Dave had jabbed his finger into her chest, but whatever he had been about to say next was cut off by Lisa smacking his arm and putting herself in front of Pandora.

‘How dare you lay a finger on my daughter?’

Before Dave could answer, Lisa got right into his face. ‘Get out of my house. Get out right now. Anything more you have to say, you can say to my lawyer. I want a divorce.’

Pandora had only ever seen her father again in court, when she finally testified about her sister’s death.

He hadn’t even looked at her, and she had done her best not to look at him.

Which was why receiving a letter from him three weeks ago had been astounding. He’d asked if she wanted to meet somewhere, to catch up.

Pandora had ultimately thrown the letter into the fireplace, deciding that she was safer without him in her life.

*****

Damian woke with a soft groan. His stomach was still throbbing with pain, but the haze of heat had dissipated somewhat.

Pandora was sitting by the window, watching the rain.

Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” He rasped, and she startled slightly.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Damian said, before he could stop himself. “You look sad.”

“I’m fine.” She repeated, an edge of frustration creeping into her tone. She wouldn’t look at him, which was new.

He started to sit up.

“Don’t break that wound open again. Please.” She said softly, her voice ragged.

“Are you hurt?” Damian asked, unable to think of why else she would seem so worn all of a sudden.

“No.” Came the cool reply. “I told you, I’m fine.”

*******

Emotionally, she felt like a piece of cracked glass. The slightest thing could cause her to break completely. She didn’t want to cry in front of Damian.

She couldn’t. It was a weakness to him, and she still remembered his promise to strangle her.

And she had no doubts that he wouldn’t hesitate to carry it out if he got the chance.

Of course not.

He was a Supervillain, and she was just a broken girl hiding behind a mask.

Maybe he’d change his ways. She was almost certain he would, but not before killing her for what she’d gotten him into. Part of her knew that her lack of sleep was heightening her anxiety, making her paranoid about something she’d gotten past worrying about. She turned back to the window with a sigh.

In her faint reflection, she saw not herself, but Kelly.

Behind her, Damian coughed.

I don’t want to die. Pandora thought.

Neither did I. The reflection seemed to say. But here we are.

I’m sorry.

I’m dead. Why am I dead, Pandora? I wanted to live.

The glass broke, and she began to cry.

[blood-of-ink]

The Best Laid Plans - Part three

Warnings: Fever, Infection, fear, delirious whumpee, blood, begging.

Taglist: @whumpwillow and @equestrianwritingsstuff

Also, yes, I am aware that Ziva needs a hug.

Through the fog of pain, Kiran was vaguely aware of someone next to him. In his fever-addled mind, only one thought was clear.

He couldn’t fight. Not like this.

“D-don’t h-hurt me p-please.” His tongue felt thick and heavy, and he could barely manage to choke out his plea.

 Surely no one would ever help him. All he could do now was hope, and beg, that whoever was there didn’t hurt him any more.

Or kill him.

The thought sent a spike of panic through him, and Kiran thrashed as hard as his weakened body could manage, a hoarse cry of terror tearing out of his raw throat.

“Enough.” A voice, distinctly female, said. “Enough, you’re okay.”

But he wasn’t. Everything hurt, and he was so confused, and it was all a blur.

Overwhelmed, he started to cry. He was so scared, in so much pain...

“H-help me.” He begged. “Please... make it st-stop.”

“I’m trying.” The voice said quietly. Something touched his forehead, and Kiran pressed weakly into the touch, desperate for the comfort.

******

Ziva grimaced at the scorching heat radiating off of the man. He whimpered quietly, nuzzling into her hand.

“What happened to you?” She murmured, still rather shocked. She had faced Kiran before, and he had always been so arrogant and condescending. She could never have imagined him in this state.

Ziva gently pushed his sweaty hair off of his smoldering forehead. He was still shivering, so Ziva adjusted the covers over him.

“D-don’t leave me, please.” He begged weakly.

“I’m not going to leave you.” Ziva sighed. Even if I was so inclined, it’s too late for that now.

She shook her head, the memory of him sprawled out in a lake of his own blood was still fresh in her mind.

There was nothing more she could do until he woke up. So she sat by his side, her only company her thoughts, which all too often turned back to the past.

Ziva had gone from a frightened child, to an angry, determined teenager, to a bitter young woman who wanted nothing more than some happiness in her life.

Even since childhood, all I ever wanted was someone to love me.

But she was all alone. She had been for sixteen years. Since the night her parents died, it was her against the world. Her only companion had been her rage. Her only solace her desire for vengeance.

Now that she had gotten it, she wanted nothing more than a normal life, wanted to spend it with someone who would smile when she walked in the door. Someone who would teach her how to be happy again. How to live without the bitter pain that was always beside her.

Ziva curled up in the chair, hugging her knees, and allowed herself to daydream about her wish.

[shydragonrider]

Compassion

Warnings: Fever, injuries, infection, Supervillain whumpee, hospital setting.

A whumpy idea I had at three in the morning.

May continue this. Don’t know.

Hero looked up at her mother, Superhero, then back to the young man crumpled on the floor of the cell.

She’d never imagined Supervillain looking so... weak. He moaned, eyes fluttering open, glazed and unfocused. He didn’t seem to recognize her presence.

“Stay away from him, darling.” Superhero said.

“Mom...” She protested. “What’s wrong with him?”

Superhero frowned. “That would be a question to ask [Other villain].”

Hero crouched next to Supervillain, ignoring her mother’s protest. He was deathly pale, and soaked in sweat. The front of his tattered shirt was sticky with blood.

“You’re in charge of the team, mom... Can’t you take him to our base’s infirmary?”

“Why would I take the scum that kidnapped and terrorized my only child to get help?”

“He didn’t hurt me.” Apart from gripping my arm so tightly he left bruises.

“Not physically, baby. But you’ve been having nightmares ever since.”

The supervillain groaned, mumbling incoherently. His shivering became more violent, and he whimpered pathetically.

“Please.” Hero whispered, looking up at her mother.

Superhero sighed. “Teammate.” She called.

“Yes Superhero?”

“Take this...” She gestured in disdain to the shivering supervillain, “To the transport infirmary.”

Teammate hooked his arms under the sickly supervillain’s, hauling him none to gently out of the damp cell.

Hero and her mother followed.

Once he was laid on the cot, Supervillain was strapped down, restrained to the point that it would have been hilarious was his situation not so dire.

He didn’t resist at all, just uttered a weak groan of protest, as the medics prepared to get to work.

*****

Supervillain peeled his eyes open, grimacing at the bright lights.

“Do you want me to turn them down?” A female voice asked. Supervillain managed to turn his head in the direction the voice had come from.

Hero was sitting there, next to his bed.

Supervillain panicked, struggling weakly against the unyielding restraints. He cried out in panic and pain, thrashing as hard as his weakened body could manage.

After a moment, he’d exhausted himself. He fell still, breathing hard.

“I didn’t come here to hurt you.” Hero said quietly.

“No indeed.” A  new voice said. Supervillain flinched as Superhero leaned over him.

“In fact, my daughter’s compassion is the only reason you were not left to rot in the cell we found you in.”

He whimpered at the mention of his former prison, huddling under the blankets.

“Come along, Hero. We have things to discuss.”

“Yes mother.” Hero replied, standing up and following her mother out of the room.

On her way out the door, she turned the lights down, and Supervillain breathed a sigh of relief, even as he sank back into sleep.