iwritewhump

[iwritewhump]

Curious to see what other's in the community are using for their whump accounts! Mine is currently a side blog but I've been thinking about making the switch to creating it as it's own account.

[iwritewhump]

May 1st!

Look at that! Another April behind us! Congratulations to all our completionists!

That's a lot of work and it's wonderful to see so many accepting the challenge and whumping ocs and fan favourites!

Thank you to everyone who rebloged and spread the event! And thank you to everyone who participated!

[iwritewhump]

hyperventilating | waking up disoriented | "I just need a hug"

april is the cruelest month day 30

characters: hero and villain

warnings: cursing, captive whumpee, nightmare

675 words

~

Hero stares at the ceiling, hand under her head as she watches the ceiling fan spin. She blinks slowly and turns her head to look at the clock. 

With a sigh, she runs a hand over her face and mumbles, “It’s too damn late to still be awake. Come on, fall asleep.” 

As soon as she says it, she looks at Villain, sleeping next to her, and watches for any signs of him waking up. 

After deciding he’s still deep asleep, Hero smiles softly and rolls over onto her side and stares at him. Her fingers ghost over freshly-pink scars on his arms as she watches his chest rise and fall slowly. 

His brow furrows and he shakes his head, Hero curses herself, she did wake him up. 

“Stop,” he mutters, hand curling into a fist at his side. “Stop it.” 

He’s having a nightmare. What’s Hero supposed to do? Let him sleep through it? Isn’t it dangerous to wake someone up when they’re having a nightmare? No, that’s sleepwalking. Right? 

She could look it up, that might work. But after a few seconds of trying to turn her phone on, including holding down the power button, a red battery icon shows up and Hero groans in frustration. 

She gently puts a hand on his arm, hoping it would offer comfort. Should she wake him up? 

He shakes his head and the rise and fall of his chest starts to quicken. 

Fuck it.

She sits up and turns on her side, propping herself up with her elbow and puts a hand on his chest. 

“Villain,” She whispers, tapping his chest softly with her thumb. “Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.” 

“No,” He mumbles, pushing her hand off of him. “No stop.” 

Her fingers wrap around his arm and she shakes him gently, “You’re having a nightmare. You’re in bed with me, it’s alright.” 

Villain springs up, ripping his arm out of Hero’s grip and he struggles to get a breath in. His knees draw up to his chest and he holds his head in his hands. 

“Supervillain?” He manages, tucking his chin to his chest. “Where-where are we?” 

Hero sits up and scoots up next to him in the bed, leaning her head on his shoulder. He tenses and curls more into himself, slowly gaining control of his breathing. 

“It’s me,” She says, snaking her arm around him and pulling him closer to her, “You’re with me, not Supervillain. Don’t worry, you’ll never see her again.” 

Villain makes a strangled sound and he tries to pull away from Hero, but she tenses her arm around him, making it nearly impossible for him to get away. 

“Stop it,” He whimpers, barely loud enough for her to hear. “Let me go.” 

Instead, she wraps her other arm around his front and presses herself against him. She inhales deeply and sighs. 

Villain cries softly, chest heaving with every hurried breath between sobs. 

“Shhh, you’re alright,” She says, rubbing his shoulder with her thumb. “I just need a hug, then I’ll let go.” 

Every muscle in his body tenses and he screws his eyes shut, “Please stop,” he whispers, voice shaking. “Please let me go-” he cuts himself off. 

‘Let me go home.’ The word feels sour in his mouth, like him saying it would ruin its meaning, so he doesn’t. 

Hero slowly releases him, pulling her arms away from him and into her lap. She leans her head on his shoulder again and sighs. 

“Bad dream?” She asks. 

Villain takes a shaky breath and shakes his head. He screws his eyes shut and swallows a sob. “No.” 

Hero hums softly and lays back down, then pulls him down next to her with the collar of his shirt and curls up next to him, a soft smile on her face. 

Tears well in Villain’s eyes, blurring his vision. His heart aches as he thinks of Supervillain, alone at home, nobody to yell at the T.V. with, nobody to try her…eccentric food experiments. All alone, worried and hopefully looking for him.

[iwritewhump]

"I don't want to talk about it"

april is the cruelest month day 29

characters: caretaker and whumpee

warnings: none

71 words

~

“Whumpee,” Caretaker says, inching closer to him, “What happened to you?” 

He shakes his head and turns around, facing the corner. He draws his knees up to his chest and screws his eyes shut, hands shaking as they wrap around his legs. 

His eyes well with tears as he tucks his chin to his chest. 

“Whumpee…” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispers, voice trembling. “Just leave me alone.” 

[iwritewhump]

"Where does it hurt?"

april is the cruelest month day 28

characters: supervillain and villain

warnings: referenced non-con, cursing

1706 words

part one | part two | part three | part four

~

Supervillain and Villain make their way out of Hero’s building and to Supervillain’s car. She keeps a cautious eye on him, ready to catch him if he falls as she tries hard to ignore the lipstick staining his collarbone. 

“Ok, my car is just up there,” she says, pointing to the small car at the front of the lot. “Almost there, Villain.” 

He blinks and nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

He trips off the curb and Supervillain catches him, one hand grabbing his arm and the other wrapping around his chest to steady him. 

Once steady, he shoves her away from him, pushing her arms off of him and taking a step away from her. He inhales sharply and stares at her, eyes wide and chest heaving. 

She swallows down the panic in her throat, “Are you alright?” 

His entire body shakes as he stares at the ground. 

“Villain, honey, I need to know you’re alright.” she says gently, taking a half-step closer to him. 

A tear rolls down his cheek and he looks up at her, “I just want to go home.” 

It feels like her heart snaps in half right there in the parking lot, but all she can do is nod. She digs the car keys out of her pocket and clicks the unlock button, then closes the gap between her and the car. 

Villain stands a few steps behind, staring at the car. 

“Ok,” Supervillain says, opening the passenger door and walking around to the driver’s side. “Let’s go home.” 

He sits down and closes the door, then he stares out the window, his head leaning against the glass. 

“Buckle up,” Supervillain coaxes, clicking her own seatbelt. 

She stares at Villain, who continues to stare out the window, unmoving. 

“Villain,” She says, tone sharper now, “You need to buckle your seatbelt before I can drive.” 

The static on the radio seems to get louder, so Supervillain reaches her hand over to change the station. Villain’s head snaps so he can watch, focus locked on her hand. 

The station clears and Supervillain’s hand finds its way back onto the steering wheel. She clears her throat and looks at Villain, “Do you need help?” 

She feels so fucking condescending saying it, like he was a toddler who was still learning how to exist in the world. He blinks vacantly at her, “No, I can do it.” 

He reaches over his shoulder and pulls the belt across his body, then clicks it into the buckle, and pulls it tight across his chest. 

“Can we go home now?” He whispers, leaning on the window again. 

Wordlessly, because she knows it doesn't matter what she says, Supervillain puts the car in drive and gets them home as quickly as she can. Every few seconds, she turns to look at Villain, she doesn’t know why, it’s not like he’s going to disappear. 

He stares out of the window the entire time, eyes fixed on something only he can see. The tremor in his hands slowly disappears, replaced by him anxiously picking at his cuticles until they’re all bleeding. 

Supervillain wants to reach over and hold her hand out to him, to settle his nerves like she used to be able to do just a few days ago, but every time her hands move on the steering wheel, his eyes dart over and he pulls more into himself. 

When she pulls into the driveway, Villain unbuckles before she gets into the garage. His hand on the handle before she parks and the door is open before she takes the keys out. He jumps out of the car and runs up to the door and goes inside before Supervillain can get out of the car. 

~

Villain runs through the house, not bothering to take his shoes off by the back door. He chews on his lip, trying to keep the sobs rising in his throat away. 

Blood fills his mouth, the holes he’s chewed in his lip stinging as he presses his tongue against them in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

He closes the door to the bathroom and bile rises in his throat as he looks in the mirror. 

Staring at himself, Villain lifts Supervillain’s jacket up and stares at his hips, rubbed raw from the cuff that had sat around his waist for three days. His fingers ghost over the skin and tears start to blur in his eyes. 

Supervillain’s voice comes from the other side of the bathroom door, “Villain, I’m here if you need anything.” 

He screws his eyes shut and waits a few seconds before letting the hem of the  jacket slip out of his fingers and cover his stomach. 

“Villain?” Supervillain asks, worry lacing through her voice. “Do you need something?” 

A sob rises in his throat and he swallows it down. He needs to answer her, she did too much to get him away from Hero to get the silent treatment. “I’m fine.” 

She sighs and he hears something hit against the door, “Alright.” There's a loaded silence and Villain’s lip starts to quiver. “Just…I’m out here if you need me.” 

“Yeah,” He says, closing his eyes and taking a measured breath. 

Unzipping the jacket, Villain stares at the ground, not ready to face himself in the mirror. He feels the jacket hit the ground and walks over to the shower. 

He steps out of his sweats and turns the handle, the water comes out cold, but he steps in anyway. The water runs down his chest, cold water turning slightly less cold as it hits the raw skin on his waist and runs down to his ankles. 

Breathing slowly, Villain turns under the shower head, letting the water wash over him. He tilts his head up and runs his hands over his face, then through his hair. 

The water finally warms up and Villain has to turn the handle down slightly, the hot water burning his skin. He closes his eyes and leans against the wall, breathing through his mouth as the water falls down his face. 

Tears mix into the water rolling down his face as he scratches at his skin, trying to get rid of the feeling of Hero’s hands on him. He can feel her fingers trailing along his chest, slowing down at each scar. His breath hitches in his chest and he screws his eyes shut. 

He opens his eyes and cranes his neck to look down at his chest before looking up again, bile rising in his throat. 

Hero’s lipstick still stains the skin where she pressed her lips against him. His collarbone, chest, and stomach all bear her mark. ‘It would’ve been better if it was a fucking bruise,’ Villain thinks to himself. 

He squeezes a generous amount of body wash out of the bottle and uses his hands to make a lather. 

Closing his eyes again, he rubs the soap over the marks until he’s sure the skin under them have been scrubbed away. 

He leans back against the wall, turning his head to the side so the water doesn’t hit it. Tears spring back into his eyes and he presses the heels of his hands into his face, trying to keep them at bay. “Cut it out.” he spits, inhaling sharply. “Nothing even fucking happened.” 

With a quick movement, he slams the handle down until the water slows to a few slow drips, then stops. He stands there, leaning against the shower wall, hands covering his face and chest heaving as he tries to quiet his sobbing. 

“Villain?” Supervillain calls out again, exhaustion clear in her tone. “Honey, I’m here for you, you know that, right?” 

He breaks, no longer trying to suppress his pain. With shaking hands, he steps out of the shower and pulls Supervillain’s jacket over himself, not bothering to dry off. He zips the jacket as far as it’ll go and pulls his pants back on, then takes a steadying breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle. 

Supervillain falls back, the door moving out from behind her, but she catches herself before her head hits the floor. She looks up at Villain, tears shining in her eyes. 

“Hey,” She almost whispers. 

He falls onto his knees and curls up next to her, his head on her chest. Sobs shake through his entire body as his hair clings to his forehead. 

Supervillain’s hands hover over him, eventually wrapping around him and drawing him closer to her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers into his hair, “I’m so…sorry.” 

She maneuvers them until they’re sitting up against the wall next to the door, Villain curled against her side. 

He takes a shaky breath and looks up at her, “I’m fine,” his voice breaks. “Nothing happened.” he lies, “I’m not even hurt.” 

He regrets it instantly, of course Supervillain sees through him, she always does. 

“Where does it hurt?” Her voice is scarily serious as her eyes scan over him. 

He shakes his head and pulls the jacket down, making sure it overlaps with his sweats. “Forget I said anything.” 

“Villain.” she snaps, still managing some gentle concern in her voice. “I’m trying to help.” 

And maybe it’s because his skin burns where he scratched it, or because he knows she’s not going to leave it alone until she finds out, or maybe he’s just really fucking tired, but Villain lifts up the hem of the jacket until the scratches on his stomach show. 

“What happened?” she asks, fingers ghosting over the red-hot skin. 

Without a word, he pulls the jacket up a few more inches until he uncovers his chest, then lets the jacket fall. 

“Villain…” 

She cuts herself off when he unzips a few inches of the jacket and pulls it to the side, revealing another spot of red scratches. He swallows thickly and looks at the ground in front of him, trying to ignore her eyes boring through the jacket. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner,” She whispers, laying her head on top of his. 

He shakes his head, trying to dismiss her, but she sniffles softly and he can still feel her eyes on him. 

“Nothing happened,” He says again, not sure who he’s trying to convince.

~

tag list: @raiha-storm65557

[iwritewhump]

"it's not my blood"

april is the cruelest month day 27

characters: whumpee, caretaker

warnings: cursing, bloody hands, blood

468 words

~

Whumpee stares at the ground as he stumbles along the familiar sidewalk. His eyes go in and out of focus, making it hard to avoid the cracks in the concrete from overgrown tree roots. 

Tears roll down his cheeks and his arms wrap around himself, trying to fight off the tremors wrecking through his body. 

Then he sees the blue porch light shining next to Caretaker’s door. He cuts through the yard and tries the door knob, but it’s locked. He raises a fist to knock on the door, but before he hits the wood, the door opens and he falls inside. 

“Whumpee?” Caretaker asks, catching him and holding him in her arms. “Where have you been?” 

She helps him into the living room and closes the door behind him before flicking the light on. 

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” she says, hands patting Whumpee’s blood soaked clothes. “Where-”

Whumpee cuts her off, “It’s not my blood.” 

He pushes her away from him and walks down the hallway into his room. Caretaker follows behind him, begging him to stop and talk to her. 

He pushes the door closed and locks it, then leans his head against it with a sigh. His chin trembles as he slides down the door onto the floor. 

“Whumpee, what happened!?” She wails, fist pounding against the door. “Please talk to me!” 

He shakes his head and exhales shakily and turns his blood-stained hands over in front of him. “Fuck,” he whispers, scratching at the palm of his hand. “Fuck!” 

Tears blur his vision and he tries to ignore Caretaker’s desperate attempts to get past the door as he slowly scrapes some of the crusted blood off of his hands. 

“Whumpee open this door right now!” Caretaker shouts, shaking the door as she hits it with her fists.

He hits his head on the back of the door, then he does it again, and again, until Caretaker stops pounding the door. 

“Whumpee, you have to stop that,” Her voice is suddenly gentle, honey smooth and sweet. 

Her breath comes in pants through the door and Whumpee feels as she leans against the door. 

“Whumpee, please let me in. I just want to make sure you’re alright.” she begs. 

“I’m fine,” He whispers, just loud enough for her to hear. “I just…need to be alone right now.” 

He sniffles quietly and leans his head against the door, waiting for a response. 

“...Alright, but I’m not moving. Come out when you’re ready but we’re going to talk about it.” She says. Her tone is final, she wasn’t going to move. 

Whumpee slides down even more until he’s laying down and staring at the ceiling. There’s a small comfort knowing Caretaker wasn’t going anywhere, he just hopes she’ll feel the same when he tells her what happened.

[iwritewhump]

to the anon who sent ask AGES ago about hero finding villain on a ledge bleeding, please know that it's inspired so many of my fics but i'm still working on coming up with something more like the prompt! also please know i love you.

[iwritewhump]

beaten | failed escape

april is the cruelest month day 26

characters: villain, hero, superhero, and supervillain

warnings: cursing, poisoning, needles, blood

1727 words

~

Villain’s hands tremble. He stares at them, bloodstained and sticky. With a shaking breath, he looks down at Supervillain, bruised and bloodied on the ground in front of him, and his brows knit together. “How long were you planning on keeping me locked in that fucking room?” 

Supervillain makes a choked sound, blood bubbling out of the corner of his mouth. “Until you died…or saw that you’re wrong about Hero.” 

Villain’s legs give out underneath him and he falls to his knees, barely avoiding falling on top of Supervillain. The breath is knocked out of him and he rolls onto his stomach as Supervillain attempts to laugh. 

“Looks like we’ll both die here.” he taunts, turning his head to look at his protege. 

Villain pushes himself up with his elbows and spits blood, “I’m not fucking dying.” 

Supervillain smiles so big, his teeth show. His eyes drift down and he tilts his head. 

Looking at his side, Villain sees a small syringe in his side. Without thinking, he wraps a hand around it and pulls it out, discarding it on the ground next to him. “What the fuck was that?” 

Supervillain’s overtaken by a fervent bout of laughter. “A death sentence. You’ll…feel nothing at first, might even numb some of the pain.” 

Villain stands, legs shaking underneath him. He gathers a breath, chest rattling and takes an unsteady step over Supervillain. 

“Where are you going?!” Supervillain spits, rage fueling his outburst. “Don’t leave me here alone!” 

Villain blinks and leans against the doorframe before turning the handle and taking a step out of the room, “I hope you die slowly.” 

“I know you will,” Supervillain says, nudging the emptied syringe with his thumb. “After the numbing has passed, you’ll feel like you can’t get a breath in. Then you won’t be able to control your body. You’ll spasm uncontrollably. I’d stay away from ledges, if I were you. Then…” He closes his eyes and smiles, “Then, it’ll feel like your blood is turning into fire, coursing through you and burning you from the inside out. And it’ll take longer than it feels possible for your brain to melt from the fever. But you’ll feel it, god will you feel it.” 

Villain’s stomach twists, but he doesn’t react. He leaves the door open and pulls himself up the stairs and onto the roof. 

Rain sprinkles down, blood runs down his face and drips off his fingertips onto the concrete. He closes his eyes and lifts his head, mouth open. 

And then the pain comes back.

He stumbles over to the edge of the roof and sits with his back against the small wall on the edge of the roof, the only thing keeping him from falling. 

He sucks in a breath, trying to fill his lungs, but Supervillain was right, no matter how deeply he inhales, it’s not enough. He gets lightheaded and his arms feel like they’re being weighed down by lead. 

He pushes himself up with his legs, back arching over the top of the wall and this seems to help, opening his lungs. 

He pulls the rest of himself on top of that wall, laying on it with his knees bent.  The jagged concrete under his head feels like it’s digging into his skull, but the cold concrete is a welcome sensation compared to the fever rising in him. 

Someone yells up to him from the ground, but he can’t make the words out. His hand, held over his chest, falls limply over the wall and the person below makes a panicked sound. 

~

Hero stares at the screen, finger tapping on her thigh as she blinks slowly and turns to Superhero, “Are you seeing this?” 

Superhero looks up from her canvas and her eyes scan the screen, she puts her brush down and takes a half-step closer to the screen, “Is this verified?” 

“No, but there are four others like it. Do you think it’s worth checking out?” Hero’s already standing and taking her sweatshirt off. 

Superhero nods, scrolling through the other citizen reports, “I think it is. And clearly you do too. What’s he doing there though? It’s been almost a week of radio silence from him and suddenly, he’s back?” 

“Something has to be wrong,” Hero says, “We should’ve gone looking for him sooner.” 

Superhero sighs and nods, “He’ll be fine, go find him and…be safe, alright?” 

Hero playfully rolls her eyes as she pulls her suit up and pulls her mask over her face, “You’ve got it, mom.” 

“Hey, your mom would love to know someone’s telling you to be safe!” Superhero retorts, falling back into a comfortable position behind her canvas. “Call me if you need backup.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hero says, already standing in the hallway. 

“Hey,” Superhero snaps, pointing her brush at her, “I mean it, ok? Promise.” 

Hero’s mouth curls up in a smile and she nods, “I promise.” 

She walks out of the building and clicks on the report from her phone, plugging the address into her car’s GPS, then starts on her way there. 

After about twenty minutes and two miles, the car stops at the front of a condemned five-story apartment building and Hero gets out of the car, instantly looking up at the roof, where Villain sits with his legs dangling off the side of the building. 

She yells up at him, “Villain!” 

He leans forward slightly and looks down at her, he swings his legs back over the ledge and lays down on the wall. 

“Villain, don’t do anything stupid, I’m on my way up!” 

~ Villain’s head spins and he feels a spasm building in his leg just as his head hits the concrete. He screws his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, ignoring Hero calling up to him from the ground. 

Supervillain was wrong. 

There’s no way this could be any faster, the fire in his veins makes it impossible to find a way to lay without blinding pain. 

But the concrete under him is still cool, just enough to make it feel like there might be a way to stop his brain melting, but he knows better. 

He turns his head to look at the door onto the roof and stares at the door just as Hero bursts through. 

~

With adrenaline fueled fervor, Hero bursts through the locked doors and she stumbles over to Villain. He’s covered in blood and bruises, sweat beads on his forehead and his chest rises unevenly with every fighting breath. 

He looks at her, then turns his head to the street, “Why are you here?” 

“What are you doing, Villain?” She asks, concern lacing her voice. 

He sighs weakly and makes a fist with his hand, “Do you think it’d hurt?” 

She takes a hesitant step closer and grabs hold of his wrist, “We both know it would.” 

She pulls him off of the ledge, dropping him two feet and sending him rolling on the floor. 

He makes a strangled sound, pain ripping through him and Hero drops to her knees, hands hovering over him. 

He groans and screws his eyes shut, “What the fuck?,” He mutters, turning one ear against the ground, gasping in pain at the small movement. “Ow.” 

Hero’s brows knit together and she looks him over, then she holds the back of her hand against his forehead. 

“You’re burning up,” She whispers, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “Villain, do you feel alright?” 

He opens his eyes and glares at her, “Go away and let me die in peace.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” She says, sitting him up by his arms. “It’s just a fever, nothing a little tylenol can’t help.” She holds him against her chest, trying to ignore the rattling in his chest. “Why do you think you’re dying?” she asks in a scared whisper. 

“I should’ve known better than to try and get out,” he says, completely ignoring her. “He was never going to let me go.” 

“What are you talking about?” She asks, leaning him against the wall and standing up. “Who?” 

“I should’ve just stayed there, I’m sure starving wouldn’t be horrible. Or maybe I’d have gone down with the building, condemned things come down, right?” He blinks at her and his brows furrow, “Do you think it would be better if I hadn’t tried?” 

She pulls him to his feet and supports the majority of his weight, arm slung around his waist. “Shut up,” She snaps, digging her phone out and calling Superhero. “You’re not making any sense.” 

“Yeah, the fever…” He trails off and inhales slowly, “Brain’s melting, not making sense.” 

Hero drags him to the door and holds the phone to her ear, “Hey, I’m calling.” 

“I can see that. Is everything alright?” There’s an edge of panic in her voice. “Did he…” 

“No, I-I got him, but…something’s wrong.” She turns speakerphone on and holds the phone out in front of Villain. 

“Brain’s melting, Supervillain told me it would. Fire in my veins, stay away from ledges,” his voice lowers and Hero turns speakerphone off and holds it against her ear again. 

“I’m not sure what’s going on, but he’s burning up.” She helps him down the stairs, “What should I do?” 

There’s static on the other end of the line, Superhero’s shuffling something around and Hero waits anxiously for a response. 

“Take him to the hospital. Tell them to check for any needle pricks, I think I know what this is.” A car starts and she sighs heavily, “You get him there and wait, I’m going to check the building for something that might help.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hero asks, shoving her shoulder against the door out of the apartment complex until it gives. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m not sure yet, just get him to the hospital and I’ll update you as soon as I can, promise.” She hangs up before Hero can interrogate her more, so Hero stuffs her phone back into her suit and props Villain up against her car. 

“Ok,” she says, opening the backseat to her car. She holds Villain under his arms and guides him into the car, “Supervillain says to take you to the hospital, so I guess that’s what I’m doing. Hang in for just a little bit longer, you’ll be fine,” She closes the door and runs a hand over her face, “I hope.”

[iwritewhump]

blindfold | "You said you loved me"

april is the cruelest month day 25

characters: hero, villain, superhero, very minor supervillain

warnings: drugging, intimate whumper, needles, cursing

1822 words

~

Hero smiles softly and looks at Villain, curled up in her arms. She presses a kiss to his forehead and sighs contentedly. With a soft hand, she cards her fingers through his hair and closes her eyes, soaking in the softness of the moment. 

Villain inhales slowly and opens his eyes, he blinks a few times and smiles, “G’morning.” 

Hero chuckles and looks over his shoulder at the clock on her nightstand, “Good afternoon,” she corrects, resting her hand on his chest. “We slept through the morning.” 

“Oh,” Villain smiles and rolls over onto his back. He stares at the ceiling and reaches over to the night stand, grabbing his phone. 

Hero frowns and reaches an arm across his chest as he scrolls through missed texts. As he reads them, his face changes, brows knitting together, lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Anything important?” 

He turns the phone away from her and exhales sharply. He turns the phone off and sets it back on the nightstand, then rolls back over to look at her. Worry is painted on his face, but he forces a smile and Hero chooses to ignore it. 

“I’ve gotta go,” He plants a small kiss on her forehead and sits up, already pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Now?” She asks, sitting up and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. 

He pulls his pants on and nods, “Yeah. Something’s come up, Supervillain needs me.” 

“Oh,” She frowns and stands up. “Can I warm something up? Just something small to eat?” 

“No, I have to go.” He button his pants and chews on his lip, “I’m sorry. I had a great time last night. I wish I could stay, but she needs me.” 

Hero nods and sniffles, wishing she didn’t feel so much hatred towards Supervillain. If she had actually done anything wrong lately, Hero could justify it, but since Villain started working with her, she’s been civil. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. Go, and tell her I say hi.” She pulls him close to her by his collar and presses her lips to his cheek. 

He smiles and walks out of the room, with his hand on the doorknob, he turns his head back one last time and smiles. 

Hero’s cheeks flush and without thinking, she says, “Bye, I love you.” 

His eyes widen as he closes the door and Hero’s cheeks turn a bright pink. She falls back onto the bed and sighs dreamily. She hears him lock the door and walk away. 

“I love you,” She whispers, barely loud enough for herself to hear. 

Her hands flap and she giggles, then rolls onto his side of the bed and presses her face into his pillow, where the scent of his shampoo lingers. 

She inhales deeply and rolls over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Then, she reaches over to the nightstand and feels around for her phone. Finally finding it, she pulls it off the stand and turns it on.

Nearly a dozen texts from Superhero welcome her. She reads them in the notifications bar and by the end, she’s calling Superhero. 

“Hurry up, he’s on his way.” 

“You need to read these fucking texts, what if I were dying? If this were more time-sensitive we’d all be fucked.” 

“I’m getting tired of you ignoring me. I’m about to just text him from her phone. Maybe he’ll actually respond.” 

“Attachment: 1 Image” 

“If you’re with him, show him this, it might help him make up his mind.” 

“Actually, can you bring him here? Supervillain isn’t cooperating.” 

“Never mind, I got Supervillain covered. Keep Villain busy.” 

“I might have a lead on Supervillain, I need your help. Call me.” 

“Like romantically?” 

“Are you still seeing Villain?” 

“What time are you coming in today?”

She turns speakerphone on and sets her phone on the foot of the bed as she digs through her drawer for a bra. 

He picks up on the third ring, “Finally.” 

“What are the texts about? What did you do?” She asks, pulling a sports bra out of the drawer and pulling it over her head. 

“Well, did you look at the picture? Because I feel like it makes everything pretty clear.” he says, annoyance dripping from his voice like venom. 

Hero grabs a shirt off of the chair and pulls it over her head, then grabs the phone from the bed and clicks on the text. 

Someone’s sitting on an old wooden chair, legs and hands tied with a blindfold over her face. “Superhero…” Hero starts, tilting her head at the photo, “What the hell did you do?” 

He sputters and there’s some static on his end of the call, then he turns the call into a video call. 

Hero reluctantly accepts, pulling a pair of pants on and propping the phone up against the clock as she runs her fingers through her hair and gathers it into a ponytail. 

Superhero’s camera is flipped, facing what seems to be a dark room. Then, there’s a click and the room lights up by a small bulb in the middle of the room. 

Supervillain sits in the middle of the room, feet tied to the legs of the chair and hands tied behind her back. There’s a red blindfold over her face and her head hangs against her chest. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Hero asks, grabbing her keys and flying out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. 

“This has always been the plan,” Superhero says, putting the camera up to Supervillain’s face and jabbing her cheek with his thumb. “Why do you think I kept letting you see Villain? He needed to trust you.” 

“Oh, god.” She whispers, opening her text chain with Villain. “What are you going to do to him?” 

Her fingers come up with a message as she runs down the stairs, blowing past neighbors with rushed apologies. 

“Get here and find out, he’s just pulling up now,” Superhero says, flipping the camera so she can see Villain running into the room behind him. 

“Villain!” She yells, but Superhero hangs up before she gets the name out. She turns the phone off and stuff it in her pocket. “Fuck!” She shoves the door to her apartment building open and runs down the sidewalk, hoping he’s where she thinks he is. 

After passing by what seems like the entire city’s population, Hero runs up the stairs to Superhero’s pet project of a condemned building. She busts through the doors to the second floor and stares at Superhero, who is currently tying a weakly struggling Villain to a chair next to Supervillain. 

“Stop it!” She shouts, running up to him. 

He smiles and drops the rope on the floor. Standing up, he wraps his arms around her and squeezes, “You’re late!” 

He pats her back firmly and pushes her away, “See that bag over there?” he nods to a bag on the floor a few feet away. “Go and get it for me. I don’t think what I used on Villain will last much longer and he’s a fighter.” 

“You drugged him?” She asks, craning her neck to stare at him. 

Villain looks up at her and blinks a few times, trying to keep his eyes locked on her. “Hero?” 

He screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, “No, that’s not right.” he takes a long few breaths and shakes his head again, “That’s not Hero. She wouldn’t be here.” 

Superhero snaps in her face and nudges her toward the bag, “Go.” She obeys, picking the bag up by its handles, and carries it over to Superhero. “Good girl.” he says, picking up the rope from the floor and tying a knot, securing Villain’s ankle to the leg of the chair. “Open it up and pull out that little blue pouch on top.” 

Her hands shake as she unzips the bag and lifts the small blue bag out from it. She holds it out to Superhero and stares at the ground, waiting for him to take it. 

“Good job,” he says, suddenly standing next to her, his hot breath on the back of her neck. “Open that baby up and pull out the 50 unit syringe, it has the orange cap. Yep, that’s the one.” 

She holds it between her fingers, feeling the small printed measurements on the side. 

Superhero runs his tongue over his teeth and nods. “Now pull out that small vial, the one with the pink label.” 

Hero looks at Villain, his head hanging against his chest. 

Her fingers shake with the vial in her hand, the cloudy liquid inside swirling in it’s glass container. 

“Take the cap off and draw out about fifteen units, the line is right there so even you can’t fuck it up.” Superhero says, a laugh caught in his throat. 

Hero screws her eyes shut and she shakes her haad, “Don’t make me do this.” 

Villain blinks and manages to lift his head for a few seconds, “You…” 

Superhero kicks his shin and he whimpers in pain, “Ignore him. This is your job, I don’t ask much of you, do I?” 

She takes the cap off the syringe and pushes the needle through the rubber top, then she flips the syringe over so the liquid is at the top. 

She looks up at Superhero, who nods approvingly at her and makes a circle with his finger, ‘get a move on.’ it says. 

She draws up the fifteen units, flicks out any bubbles and sets the vial back in the blue bag. 

“Good girl,” Superhero says. He pulls her up next to Villain and pushes her down to her knees, “Now, put the needle in his thigh and push the plunger all the way down.” 

She inhales sharply and shakes her head, “I can’t…” 

“I’m sorry?” He demands, hand crushing her collarbone. “I gave you a direct order. You need to follow it.” 

Villain shakes his head, “You…said you loved me,” he sucks in a weary breath and lifts his head to look at her, “Did you mean it?” 

Her jaw clenches and she uses her free hand to cup his cheek, “I did.” 

“Then don’t do this,” Villain begs, staring at the syringe. 

Superhero puts his hand over hers and pushes the syringe into Villain’s thigh, then pushes the plunger down until all the liquid is pushed out. “There,” He says, recapping the syringe and setting it on the ground. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

Villain blinks, eyes growing heavy as Hero’s fill with tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I’m…I’m sorry.” 

She falls back on her heels and tears roll down her cheeks, Superhero’s hands sit on her shoulders, fingertips digging into her collar. 

“You did good for me,” He whispers, pushing himself up off of her shoulders. “You can go home now, they’ll both be out for a long time.”

[iwritewhump]

a game of roulette | "why can't i move?"

april is the cruelest month day 24

characters: villain, supervillain, sidekick, and hero

warnings: needles, mystery drugs, cursing, drugging, semi-intimate whumper

1924 words

part one | part two

~

Villain finishes off the plate quickly, not that there was much to finish off. A few bites of scrambled eggs, half a piece of toast, and two sausage links that were more charr than they were meat. He lifts his arms above his head and slides the plate onto the table and leans against the table’s leg. 

Licking the egg off of his fingers, he takes a deep breath and leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. 

Sidekick walks into the kitchen, a small frown on her face. “You’re awake.” 

“Happy to see you, too,” Villain says snidely. 

She rolls her eyes and walks up to him. She looks over her shoulder anxiously and squats down in front of him. “If you’re awake then it means that Supervillain is coming back here and she’s going to kill you. Do you get that? You pissed her off and she’s not going to forgive you for it. So when she gets here you don’t fight her, don’t argue, just…go with it. Play her games and let her win. It’s the only way you’ll stay alive long enough to get out.” 

Villain tilts his head, “Why are you telling me this?” 

She swallows thickly and looks over her shoulder again. Voices sound just outside the doorway and she pushes herself up with help from the table. “Because I don’t want to clean your blood off the floor.” 

She turns away from him as soon as Hero and Supervillain walk into the kitchen, she glides over the floor and opens the fridge. 

“Were you two talking?” Supervillain asks, voice sending chills down Villain’s back. 

Sidekick shrugs, “I was just telling him to be a good boy for you.” 

Hero leans on the counter next to the sink by Sidekick and chews on his lip, watching as Supervillain chuckles and walks over to the table. She sets her bag down on the ground just out of Villain’s reach and sits in front of him. 

“He knows…” she tilts her head at him and puts her hands in her lap, “Don’t you?” 

“It’s coming back to me,” Villain remarks. 

She smirks and pulls her bag into her lap. She unzips it and pulls out a small cloth, rolled up neatly in the top of the bag. With a sigh, she lays it on the ground next to her and unrolls it, showing off an impressive collection of colorful vials and syringes of all different gauges. 

Hero takes a half-step closer to Sidekick and takes her hand in his, he tilts his head and whispers, “This was a mistake.” 

“Wish you’d figured that out before you let her inside?” Sidekick mutters, squeezing his hand in hers. 

“You’ve been busy,” Villain says, eyes scanning over the numerous vials. “Is it a bit boring at home without me there?” 

Supervillain takes a deep breath and takes three vials out of their pouches, then she does the same with five syringes. 

Villain picks at his fingers anxiously, “Or did you replace me already? I’d be surprised if you found someone who can put up with you.” 

Sidekick turns her head into Hero’s shoulder and shakes her head. She mutters, “Just shut the fuck up.” 

Supervillain’s hand freezes, she looks up at Villain and plasters on a fake smile. “It’s just me there for now.” 

She pulls out another vial and one more syringe, then she rips open a few alcohol swabs and wipes each vial for a few seconds. 

Wordlessly, she draws up a few milliliters from each vial, then she switches the needle on three of them before drawing out a little bit more from different vials. She swirls them together until the colors blend together, then she lays them out on the ground and sits up on her heels. 

She takes an alcohol swab from the pile and lifts the sleeve of Villain’s shirt up and wipes the swab over his skin. 

“Hey, wait,” he says, pulling away from her. “I thought this was going to be a game. This isn’t us playing, this is you drugging me.” 

Supervillain sticks the needle in his arm. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small sharps box, discarding the needle inside. “We need to get you ready for the game, don’t we?” she asks, rubbing the spot where the needle went into his arm. “Call it…foreplay.” 

Villain’s body slowly relaxes, his eyes glaze over, hands fall uselessly on the ground next to him, and his head slumps slightly to the side. He blinks, trying to bring something into focus, but he can’t make anything clear for longer than a second. 

“Why can’t I move?” he asks, voice slurring. 

Supervillain smiles and pats his arm, pulling her hand away, “That was just a mild sedative slash muscle relaxant. Nothing too strong, you’ll still feel everything, don’t worry.” 

Sidekick shakes her head and turns away, “I can’t watch.” 

Supervillain holds up four of the six remaining syringes in front of Villain. “I’m going to let you choose which ones I use on you this time. Two will have…surprise effects. I’ve never mixed them together before so your guess is as good as mine. One of them will make it so your heart beats so fast it just might explode, and the last one…” she pauses for dramatic effect, “Will kill you in minutes.” 

Villain looks at the syringes in her hand, each a different color. Green, orange, yellow, and purple. 

It has to be one of the ones that isn’t mixed, right? Two still sit on the floor next to Supervillain, blue and red. He closes his eyes and forces himself to think. What colors can’t you mix? Yellow, blue, and orange? 

No, that’s wrong. Yellow and red make orange. 

Why didn’t he watch which ones she mixed? Why was she doing this? Which one is going to kill him? Will any of them actually kill him? Supervillain wouldn't actually do that, would she? 

“Hey!” She snaps her fingers in front of Villain’s face, “I know that made it hard to focus but come on! Just pick a color, any color!” 

If yellow would kill him, and yellow makes green and orange, then they’ll probably kill him too. So purple is the right choice. Unless red and blue would kill him, so purple would double kill him. Fuck this is hard. 

“If you don’t choose in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to choose for you. And I know which one will kill you.” Supervillain warns. 

Mentally, Villain kicks himself. Why is this so hard? Just pick a color, any of them will suck, one will just suck the most, but…minutes doesn’t sound bad. Sure, it might be blinding pain until he kicks, but at least it’s only minutes. 

Oh, fuck it. 

“Purple.” 

Villain smiles, uncaps the green syringe and plunges it into Villain’s other arm. 

“Hey!” Hero shouts, pushing himself up from his spot on the counter, “He said purple!” 

Supervillain turns to look at him, her thumb hovering over the plunger, “Did he? I couldn’t hear.” 

Villain closes his eyes, as if that would help block out anything that the green liquid could impart on him. He feels the pressure build under his skin when she pushes down on the plunger, and then…nothing. 

There’s no fire coursing through him, no weakness slowly spreading through his arm into the rest of his body, not even a tinge of all-consuming pain from it. 

“Hmm,” Supervillain says, discarding the syringe in the sharps box. “Feel anything? 

She pulls out a little notebook and scribbles something on a half-filled page, then reaches over and puts the back of her hand against Villain’s forehead. 

“Your fever has subsided since last time,” she mutters, scribbling something else on the paper. “Doesn’t make sense, considering, but it’s not a bad sign.” 

‘Last time?’ Villain wants to ask. The words don’t come. Does his mouth even move? 

Supervillain’s eyes light up and she smiles, “Oh! Now that’s interesting. Try that again.” 

He manages a strangled choking sound, pathetic and pitiful. 

Sidekick shakes her head and chews on her lip, “What’s she doing to him?” 

“Ok, now I didn’t expect that,” Supervillain says, chewing on the end of her pencil. “It looks like the muscle relaxant reacted with the truth serum, making it harder for you to spill your secrets. Do you want to tell me everything I ask?” 

He manages a small head shake, luckily his body is always going against his brain and willing to lie for him. 

“Interesting.” she scribbles something else down and closes the notepad. “Ok, well, that’s me done for the day. You have one more choice to make before I leave. Red or blue?” 

She holds both of the syringes up to Villain and twirls them in her fingers. “One will bind with the muscle relaxant and you’ll be able to move again and the other-” she looks over her shoulder at Hero and Sidekick-”You’re acquainted with.” 

Hero screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, remembering the small syringe Supervillain had given him filled with a cloudy blue liquid. He wants to tell Villain, “PIck the red. Please, for the love of god, pick the red.” 

But he stays quiet, fearing any movement would set Supervillain off. 

Villain blinks and stares at the red syringe, then blinks. 

“This one?” Supervillain asks, lifting the red syringe a little higher than the blue. “You’re sure?” He blinks. 

“Okay, just remember, you chose it.” 

She plunges the needle into his bicep and hovers her thumb over the plunger, “You’re sure? Last chance.”

‘Just fucking do it already,’ Villain thinks, looking at her thumb pressing against the plunger. He blinks once and feels the pressure build under his skin once again. 

Slowly, he’s able to wiggle his fingers and toes. He lifts his head up and squeezes his hand into a fist, then flexes his fingers. 

“Okay,” Supervillain says, packing up her bag. “That’s my time. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” She stands up in one fluid motion, tucking her feet underneath her and using them to push herself up.

She puts her thumb under Villain’s chin and tilts his head so he’s looking at her. “I hope you remember what you did to me. And I hope you know nothing I do will ever outweigh it.” 

She pushes his head back so it hits the table leg and walks away from him, stopping in front of Hero. 

“Give him a few hours before he can eat or drink anything, or else he’ll throw it up. I’ll be back in two days.” 

She walks out of the kitchen and all three of them listen as she turns down the hallway and opens the door. 

Sidekick rushes over to him and her hand hover around him uselessly, “Are you alright?” 

Hero takes slow, deliberate steps and kneels down in front of him, “I didn’t know she was going to do this. But there’s nothing I can do now, she knows where we live, where you are, and she can fuck everything up if we go against her. So you’ll have to push through until I can figure something else out, alright?” 

What did he think she was going to do? Shake his hand and welcome him back into her life? No, this fits what he did to her, he deserves it, anyone who thinks otherwise needs to ask themselves if they know the whole story. And nobody does, Supervillain will take that to her grave.

[iwritewhump]

scar reveal | "don't let them her in"

april is the cruelest month day 23

characters: hero, villain, supervillain

warnings: captive whumpee, drugged whumpee, cursing, non-con touch, forced touching, implied non-con

a/n: this is one of the most non-con heavy things i've posted, so i really hope i've given all the right warnings. please be safe and if someone wants something else tagged in the future, let me know!

1822 words

part one | part two | part three

~

Villain picks at his cuticle, pulling it until it snaps and bleeds. He curses softly and holds his finger up to his mouth, trying to stop the bleeding. 

He stares at the unlocked door and glares at the handle, then at the chain wrapped and locked around the base of the toilet. Hero’s idea of a sick joke. 

He scoots close to the lock and holds it in his hand, it’s lighter than it looks and if whatever Hero had drugged him with wasn’t still in his system, he could bust it open. 

He drops the lock and lays back, head on the white tile of the bathroom floor. God, if he could actually focus on something longer than a few seconds, he would be disgusted. 

Then the handle jiggles. 

Villain forces himself to lift his head, just enough to make sure he didn’t imagine it. 

The knob twists and the door pushes open, Villain’s head falls back onto the tile and he screws his eyes shut. 

Hero’s overpowering perfume fills the room and Villain’s stomach drops. He opens his mouth, just enough to breathe through it, but Hero notices. 

“You’re awake!” She cheers, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Oh, I was worried for a minute, you weren’t supposed to be out that long. I must’ve given you too much.” 

He blinks a few times and tilts his head to look at her. She takes a step into the bathroom and kneels down in front of Villain, a small smile on her face. 

“I think Supervillain is trying to fuck me over.” She says, sliding her arms under his and pulling him up. She props him up against the wall and then pulls a key out from her pocket. “I gave her one job…” she inserts the key into the lock and turns it. “And she doesn’t want to do it. Do you think she’ll do it? I mean…it’s your life at risk.” 

She raises her arm and drops the key on the counter. She sighs and pushes herself up and shrugs, “I guess we’ll find out. There’s not a countdown or anything, no need to look so worried. But until she does her job…” she pauses and unwraps the chain, then pulls Villain to his feet. “Until she does her job, I get to keep you.” 

She leads him out of the bathroom and back down the hall into her bedroom. She closes her door behind them and giggles softly. 

She drops the chain on the ground and smiles teasingly. “How should we pass the time? I cancelled my meetings this afternoon, I figured it would be good for us to spend some time together. You’ve been such a good guest, washing dishes, cooking breakfast. It’s time to pay you back for it.” 

Villain swallows thickly and looks at the ground as she pulls her shirt over her head and drops it onto the floor next to her. 

“Come on,” she says, taking a step closer to him and ducking her head to catch his eye. She smiles coyly and chuckles. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” 

She tugs at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it free from under the cuff and then her hand slides under his shirt. 

The corner of her mouth turns up in a smile and she nods, “Wasn’t expecting abs, you look so scrawny.” 

Villain screws his eyes shut as her hand glides over his torso, fingers trailing over healed scars and marks in his skin. 

Her other hand pulls his shirt up and she gasps, “How’d you get all of those?” 

Villain pushes her hands away and tugs his shirt back down. His chin trembles and he tries to control his breathing. 

Hero swats at his hand and grabs his wrists with one hand. The other lifts the shirt well above his chest and tilts her head. 

She taps her finger on the small dots of scars on his chest and looks at him, “How’d you get these ones?” 

Villain doesn’t react, he stares at the ground and ignores Hero’s nails digging into his wrists. 

“Fine,” she snaps, dropping his shirt. She opens the top drawer to one of her dressers and digs around. “Don’t answer me.” 

Villain looks in the drawer, shocked to find just about everything but clothes. Packages of wall hooks, tape rolls, sticky notes, pens, and so many more things fill the drawer. But Hero’s eyes light up when her fingers catch on a pair of scissors. 

She pulls them out of the drawer and tucks the bottom blade under his shirt. 

“If you’re not going to work with me then I’ll have to do it myself.” she says, making quick work of the shirt. 

Once she cuts through the collar, she lets go of his wrists and pulls it off of his shoulders, letting it fall on the ground behind him. Tears well in Villain’s eyes, they roll down his cheeks and he chews on his lip to keep the sobs in his throat from emerging. 

“Please stop,” Villain whispers, voice trembling. He looks up at the ceiling as Hero starts to wiggle out of her pants, pulling them down to her ankles and stepping out of them. 

She kicks them to the side and takes Villain’s hand in hers. She holds his hand over her bra and his hands begin to shake. 

“I don’t…” he says, screwing his eyes shut. “Stop.” 

She guides his hand down her stomach and presses against him. 

Her phone rings. 

Hero pulls away from him, still holding onto his hand and answers the call, “Hello?” 

She pauses, tilting her head as the person on the other line talks. Then, her face lights up and she smiles, “Oh good! I’ll put you on speaker and you can talk to Villain. Send me the video and he’s all yours.” 

“Villain?” Supervillain’s voice is wary. “Are you alright?” 

Villain makes a sound that’s almost a laugh, but sounds more like a sob and he pulls his hand out of Hero’s grip. He wraps his arms protectively in front of himself and inhales shakily. Hero rolls her eyes and holds an arm across her chest, using it to prop up the hand holding her phone. 

“Villain?” 

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “Yeah, I’m…I’m okay.” he swallows thickly and wipes his chin on his shoulder, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his cheek. “Hurry up.” 

“I am, honey. Don’t worry.” There's a short pause and Hero’s phone buzzes. “Hero, I just sent the video, where is he?” 

“One second,” Hero says, rolling her eyes performatively to Villain. She mouths something to him and clicks on the text. “Oh, okay,” she says, watching the screen as Supervillain sets the computer on fire. “Yeah, no, that’ll do it. I’ll send you the address, no hurry, we’re about to have some fun. The front door’s unlocked, come find us in the bedroom.” 

“Villain?” Supervillain asks. 

He looks up at the ceiling and sniffs. “Yeah?” 

“Hang on, alright?” she exhales shakily and there’s a pause, “I’m on my way, I’ll be ther-”

Hero hangs up and drops the phone on the dresser. She smiles and takes a step closer to Villain, “Where were we?” 

Villain tenses, fighting to stop her pulling his hand back to her stomach. She’s stronger than him, especially with three days of half-eaten meals and who knows how many hours of being passed out in the bathroom, drugs still coursing through him. 

She pulls his arm away from his chest and wraps it around her waist and pressing against Villain. She lays her head on his chest and sighs heavily, hand still around his wrist. 

For a few minutes they stand like that, her slowly pulling his other hand from in front of his chest and wrapping it around her, head on his chest. 

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” She asks in a whisper. 

Villain trembles, tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggles to keep control of his breathing. He can’t go more than a few seconds without having to swallow the blood from his lip. 

Hero looks up at him and wraps her arms around him, “Villain?” 

He blinks vacantly and tilts his head down to look at her, “What?” 

“You’re not listening to me!” She accuses, turning her face against his chest and taking a deep breath. 

She pauses and presses against him, then pulls away, just enough to lean against Villain’s interlocked arms behind her back. She closes her eyes and peace falls over her face. Villain hears the front door open and he allows himself a small sigh of relief. 

Supervillain’s voice comes faintly through the door, frantic. “Villain!” 

Urgency sparks in Hero’s face and she reaches her hand over to the door handle and locks it. 

“Villain, I don’t know where the fucking bedroom is!” Supervillain shouts, desperation clear in her voice. 

Hero’s jaw sets and she unwraps Villains arms from around her. Villain stares at the locked door, ignoring Hero’s hands on him, her heavy breath on his skin is harder to brush off. 

“Villain!” She’s closer, doors just outside the bedroom are being shoved open and then slammed shut before another opens. “Villain, I'm almost there!” 

The handle shakes and Villain snaps back to reality. 

Hero freezes and watches Villain’s hand move from sitting idly at his side to the door knob. He takes one of her hands in his and hovers her thumb over the fingerprint scanner. 

“Wait,” Hero whispers, looking up at him and batting her eyelashes. “Don’t let her in, the fun is just starting.” 

“Villain!” her voice on the other side of the door gives him one last push and he presses her thumb against the scanner. 

The door beeps and Villain blinks vacantly, watching as the handle turns and Supervillain rushes into the room. 

She pulls Hero to her feet by her hair and tosses her nearly half-way across the room, knocking her unconscious, then she puts herself between the two of them. 

“Villain, honey, are you alright?” She asks, putting her hands on his shoulders. 

He looks past her, shaking. 

She forces herself to take a deep breath, “Villain, it’s time to go home.” 

She lets go of his shoulders and takes her jacket off, wrapping it around him. Before she zips it, she picks the lock around his waist and kneels in front of him. 

With a tenderness neither of them knew she had, she pulls Villain’s waistband back up and rolls back on her heels before making quick work of the locks on his ankles. She stands up and kicks the chains behind her, then zips the jacket. 

“Honey, it’s time to go home,” she tucks an arm under his and slides it around to his waist, then pulls him alongside her out of the room. “Come on,” she urges, looking at his feet shuffling along the ground.

~

part five

~

tag list: @raiha-storm65557

[iwritewhump]

"Don't speak"

april is the cruelest month day 22

characters: living weapon, handler

warnings: stalking, cursing, blood

1368 words

~

Living Weapon stalks her prey, following him through dark alleys and crowded streets, always a few feet behind, just far enough so he doesn’t see her. Her eyes never leave him, she watches him avoid bumping into people, jumping out of his skin every time someone brushes against him. 

She smiles softly, he didn’t used to be like that. 

With one hand, she runs her thumb over the folds in an old, faded picture of him and her. His arm is wrapped around her, a small smile on his face as he points at her, beer in hand. She’s curled under his arm, trying to escape him. There’s no emotion on her face, but if you look close enough, and nobody ever did, there’s terror in her eyes. Her other hand sits comfortably on her dagger, engraved with his initials on the hilt, hers on the base of the blade. She runs her index finger over the hilt, imagining the “H” under the pad of her finger. 

Handler turns suddenly and Living Weapon spins on her heels, looking at the ground next to her feet. She curses softly and tightens her grip over the dagger, praying that he turns back around, brushing off whatever made him turn so suddenly and go back about his day. 

Slowly, she turns her head in an attempt to see him out of the corner of her eye. With one glance, she turns back around and falls back a few more feet, not enough to lose him completely but enough to fill in the space just enough so he won’t see her. 

He’s moving quicker now, there’s an urgency in his walk that she hasn’t seen in a long time. With a small smile, she takes longer strides. Unlike the dozens he made her go on, she’s enjoying this hunt. And the terror in his eyes when he realizes she’s caught him will be unmatched. 

He opens a small gate, lifting the lever up and pushing it open. It creaks, loud enough that she can hear it from several yards back. He walks through the small “yard,” mostly concrete and weeds, and walk up a few steps. She watches his hands shake when he stands on his doorstep, keys in hand.  The door pushes open and he walks inside, closing the door quickly behind him. 

Living Weapon lets go of the dagger and steps over the gate. She looks ahead, knowing that if she looks back to see who saw her, she’ll blow her cover. For all anyone knows, she lives there and just doesn’t want to listen to the squeaky gate. 

Then, she steps through the yard, avoiding the patches of weeds growing through the concrete. She makes it up to the doorstep and pushes a buzzer for the floor above Handler’s apartment. 

“Hello?” Comes a warbled voice. 

“Hi!” Living Weapon says, voice scarily happy for what she’s there for. “I’m supposed to be feeding my cousins’ fish, but I lost my key somewhere in her apartment last time I came in. Could you buzz me in?” 

“Sure thing,” the voice says again. The door makes a whirring sound and after a second, Living Weapon turns the handle and pushes the door open. 

Walking into the apartment, she exhales slowly and gives herself a moment to gather herself. She pulls the door closed and leans against it, closing her eyes. 

“Ok,” she whispers to herself. She taps each of her fingers against her thumb and tucks the photo into her pocket, then walks down the damp, mold smelling hallway. 

She stops in front of Handler’s door, wiping her feet on his painted coir welcome mat on the floor. 

She exhales sharply and raises her hand to knock on the door, calling out, “Maintenance!” She lowers her face and pulls her hood over her head, before knocking again, “Pipe burst in the apartment above you, need to make sure you’re not experiencing any leaks.” 

Handler grumbles, his boots stomping closer to the door, “Alright, alright. I’m comin’. Goddamnit, I just got home, couldn’t even open a drink before someone comes to fuckin’ bother me.” 

He slides the bolt, turns the lock, and unhooks the chain before opening the door. 

“I haven’t seen any fuckin’ leak,” He says, stepping aside. 

Living Weapon pushes her way the rest of the way into the apartment and closes the door behind her, “That’s good.” 

Handler looks up, blood draining from his face. He shakes his head, stumbles back, and trips over a stray shoe on the floor. 

Living Weapon smiles cruelly and re-locks the door. 

“It’s kinda funny,” she says, sliding the bolt closed again, “All these locks and you don’t check to see who’s at your door.” 

He shakes his head and pushes himself back until he hits the wall, “I killed you.” 

His voice is shaking, eyes locked on her like he’s seeing a ghost. 

Living Weapon pouts and takes a few steps forward. She nods, traces over the scar on her chest and her smile falls. “You took a stab at it.” She smiles again, faintly and chuckles softly, “Pun intended.” 

Handler squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head again, “No. You stopped breathing. I…I buried you.” 

“Like I said,” Living Weapon snaps, kneeling in front of him. She lifts his chin with the hilt of her dagger, “You certainly exerted yourself.” 

His chin trembles, “What are you going to do to me?” 

She tilts her head and smiles, baring her teeth. “Don’t speak.” 

He nods furiously, shutting his mouth. His breath comes in short bursts, fogging up the blade of the dagger. Tears start to form in his eyes and Living Weapon rolls her eyes. 

She falls back on her heels and lowers the dagger so it sits over his heart. It cuts through the fabric of his shirt and she pushes it into his skin. “Stop sniveling. It’s not a good color on you.” 

He takes a quick, forceful breath and nods. Snot falls out of his nose and he wipes it on his sleeve, “What can I do?” 

“I told you to shut up.” she snaps, pressing the dagger into his chest. 

She watches as blood seeps through his shirt, just enough to make a small dime-sized stain. She blinks and takes a measured breath. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, pulling the blade away from his chest. 

She stands up and puts the dagger back in its sheath. 

“What’s going on?” Handler asks, eyeing her warily. 

She glares at him, but doesn’t remind him he’s supposed to shut the fuck up. She turns away from him and walks into his kitchen. 

With feverish movements, she rifles through his drawers, tossing things onto the ground behind her. 

“I came here…” she says, opening a cabinet and knocking spice jars onto the counter, “To kill you.” 

Handler shakes his head and makes a small, pathetic sound. 

“But that would mean you were right about me.” She says, finally finding what she was looking for. She holds the lighter in her hand and clicks it until it lights. “And you weren’t. I’m not…” she trails off and shakes her head. “I’m not like you. I'm nothing like you. So I'm going to leave.” 

She pulls the picture out of her pocket and holds the corner up to the flame. It catches and she watches as the fire climbs up the edges of the picture, engulfing it in its hungry blaze. 

She drops the photo on the wooden floor and watches it burn, then stomps the ashes until the embers die. 

“You were wrong about me,” she says, voice breaking. 

Handler stares at the scorched wood under her foot and then up at her. There’s still so much fear in his eyes. She almost chuckles, pulls her phone out and holds it in her hands. 

“Smile,” She says, void of any emotion. The flash snaps and Handler flinches. Living Weapon looks at the screen and nods, then pockets her phone again. “Now I can remember how fucking terrified you are of me.” 

She squats down in front of him and leans in close, her nose brushing against his cheek. “You should’ve dug a deeper hole.”

[iwritewhump]

"Don't speak"

april is the cruelest month day 22

characters: living weapon, handler

warnings: stalking, cursing, blood

1368 words

~

Living Weapon stalks her prey, following him through dark alleys and crowded streets, always a few feet behind, just far enough so he doesn’t see her. Her eyes never leave him, she watches him avoid bumping into people, jumping out of his skin every time someone brushes against him. 

She smiles softly, he didn’t used to be like that. 

With one hand, she runs her thumb over the folds in an old, faded picture of him and her. His arm is wrapped around her, a small smile on his face as he points at her, beer in hand. She’s curled under his arm, trying to escape him. There’s no emotion on her face, but if you look close enough, and nobody ever did, there’s terror in her eyes. Her other hand sits comfortably on her dagger, engraved with his initials on the hilt, hers on the base of the blade. She runs her index finger over the hilt, imagining the “H” under the pad of her finger. 

Handler turns suddenly and Living Weapon spins on her heels, looking at the ground next to her feet. She curses softly and tightens her grip over the dagger, praying that he turns back around, brushing off whatever made him turn so suddenly and go back about his day. 

Slowly, she turns her head in an attempt to see him out of the corner of her eye. With one glance, she turns back around and falls back a few more feet, not enough to lose him completely but enough to fill in the space just enough so he won’t see her. 

He’s moving quicker now, there’s an urgency in his walk that she hasn’t seen in a long time. With a small smile, she takes longer strides. Unlike the dozens he made her go on, she’s enjoying this hunt. And the terror in his eyes when he realizes she’s caught him will be unmatched. 

He opens a small gate, lifting the lever up and pushing it open. It creaks, loud enough that she can hear it from several yards back. He walks through the small “yard,” mostly concrete and weeds, and walk up a few steps. She watches his hands shake when he stands on his doorstep, keys in hand.  The door pushes open and he walks inside, closing the door quickly behind him. 

Living Weapon lets go of the dagger and steps over the gate. She looks ahead, knowing that if she looks back to see who saw her, she’ll blow her cover. For all anyone knows, she lives there and just doesn’t want to listen to the squeaky gate. 

Then, she steps through the yard, avoiding the patches of weeds growing through the concrete. She makes it up to the doorstep and pushes a buzzer for the floor above Handler’s apartment. 

“Hello?” Comes a warbled voice. 

“Hi!” Living Weapon says, voice scarily happy for what she’s there for. “I’m supposed to be feeding my cousins’ fish, but I lost my key somewhere in her apartment last time I came in. Could you buzz me in?” 

“Sure thing,” the voice says again. The door makes a whirring sound and after a second, Living Weapon turns the handle and pushes the door open. 

Walking into the apartment, she exhales slowly and gives herself a moment to gather herself. She pulls the door closed and leans against it, closing her eyes. 

“Ok,” she whispers to herself. She taps each of her fingers against her thumb and tucks the photo into her pocket, then walks down the damp, mold smelling hallway. 

She stops in front of Handler’s door, wiping her feet on his painted coir welcome mat on the floor. 

She exhales sharply and raises her hand to knock on the door, calling out, “Maintenance!” She lowers her face and pulls her hood over her head, before knocking again, “Pipe burst in the apartment above you, need to make sure you’re not experiencing any leaks.” 

Handler grumbles, his boots stomping closer to the door, “Alright, alright. I’m comin’. Goddamnit, I just got home, couldn’t even open a drink before someone comes to fuckin’ bother me.” 

He slides the bolt, turns the lock, and unhooks the chain before opening the door. 

“I haven’t seen any fuckin’ leak,” He says, stepping aside. 

Living Weapon pushes her way the rest of the way into the apartment and closes the door behind her, “That’s good.” 

Handler looks up, blood draining from his face. He shakes his head, stumbles back, and trips over a stray shoe on the floor. 

Living Weapon smiles cruelly and re-locks the door. 

“It’s kinda funny,” she says, sliding the bolt closed again, “All these locks and you don’t check to see who’s at your door.” 

He shakes his head and pushes himself back until he hits the wall, “I killed you.” 

His voice is shaking, eyes locked on her like he’s seeing a ghost. 

Living Weapon pouts and takes a few steps forward. She nods, traces over the scar on her chest and her smile falls. “You took a stab at it.” She smiles again, faintly and chuckles softly, “Pun intended.” 

Handler squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head again, “No. You stopped breathing. I…I buried you.” 

“Like I said,” Living Weapon snaps, kneeling in front of him. She lifts his chin with the hilt of her dagger, “You certainly exerted yourself.” 

His chin trembles, “What are you going to do to me?” 

She tilts her head and smiles, baring her teeth. “Don’t speak.” 

He nods furiously, shutting his mouth. His breath comes in short bursts, fogging up the blade of the dagger. Tears start to form in his eyes and Living Weapon rolls her eyes. 

She falls back on her heels and lowers the dagger so it sits over his heart. It cuts through the fabric of his shirt and she pushes it into his skin. “Stop sniveling. It’s not a good color on you.” 

He takes a quick, forceful breath and nods. Snot falls out of his nose and he wipes it on his sleeve, “What can I do?” 

“I told you to shut up.” she snaps, pressing the dagger into his chest. 

She watches as blood seeps through his shirt, just enough to make a small dime-sized stain. She blinks and takes a measured breath. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, pulling the blade away from his chest. 

She stands up and puts the dagger back in its sheath. 

“What’s going on?” Handler asks, eyeing her warily. 

She glares at him, but doesn’t remind him he’s supposed to shut the fuck up. She turns away from him and walks into his kitchen. 

With feverish movements, she rifles through his drawers, tossing things onto the ground behind her. 

“I came here…” she says, opening a cabinet and knocking spice jars onto the counter, “To kill you.” 

Handler shakes his head and makes a small, pathetic sound. 

“But that would mean you were right about me.” She says, finally finding what she was looking for. She holds the lighter in her hand and clicks it until it lights. “And you weren’t. I’m not…” she trails off and shakes her head. “I’m not like you. I'm nothing like you. So I'm going to leave.” 

She pulls the picture out of her pocket and holds the corner up to the flame. It catches and she watches as the fire climbs up the edges of the picture, engulfing it in its hungry blaze. 

She drops the photo on the wooden floor and watches it burn, then stomps the ashes until the embers die. 

“You were wrong about me,” she says, voice breaking. 

Handler stares at the scorched wood under her foot and then up at her. There’s still so much fear in his eyes. She almost chuckles, pulls her phone out and holds it in her hands. 

“Smile,” She says, void of any emotion. The flash snaps and Handler flinches. Living Weapon looks at the screen and nods, then pockets her phone again. “Now I can remember how fucking terrified you are of me.” 

She squats down in front of him and leans in close, her nose brushing against his cheek. “You should’ve dug a deeper hole.”

[iwritewhump]

"don't leave me here!"

april is the cruelest month day 21

characters: hero, villain

warnings: gun, being shot, digging their own grave, cursing

1002 words

part one

~

Villain stares at Hero, then at the shovel in his hand. Hero takes a step forward, the shovel grinds against the concrete floor and Villain winces. The sound pierces through his eardrums and makes it feel like someone’s scraping a nail across his brain. 

Hero drops the shovel on Villain’s chest and kicks the side of the couch, “Sit up. You have work to do.” 

Villain wraps a hand around the shovel and uses it to leverage himself into a sitting position. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, trying to force himself to ignore the pain shooting through his body. 

“What’s…” He asks, standing up and leaning heavily on the shovel, “What’s happening?” 

Hero chuckles, “Follow me.” 

He’s too tired to fight him, Hero links arms with Villain and drags him outside. The sun is low on the horizon, painting the sky a bright orange. 

Villain looks at the ground, trying not to trip over the gravel and chunks of concrete as Hero pulls him too quickly away from the warmth of being inside. Now, the cold bites through his thin jacket and wind cuts into him, sending waves of cold wracking through him. If he weren’t so fucking tired, he would complain. 

Hero stops in a small, secluded area a few hundred yards from the building. Blood is on the ground and there’s a flash of recognition in Villain’s bone-tired eyes. 

“What are we doing here?” he asks, once again leaning on the shovel. 

Hero puts his hands on Villain’s shoulders and pushes him over to an area with less concrete chunks littering the ground, “Start digging.” 

Villain’s brows knit together and he looks over his shoulder, “What?” 

“Start,” Hero snaps, wrapping his arms around Villain, using his hands to wrap Villain’s around the shovel. He sticks the tip of the shovel into the ground and uses his foot to drive it into the ground, then lets go of Villain, “Digging.” 

Villain pushes down on the shovel, pulling the dirt from the ground and tossing it to the side. He slowly does a few more shovel fulls, wincing as the concrete scrapes against the shovel each time. 

He pants, leaning against the shovel and looks at Hero, “What am I doing this for?” 

Hero’s nose scrunches as he smiles, “You’re digging your grave. Put some work into it, make it nice and comfortable, make sure you have room to stretch out in there.” 

“What?” Villain asks, still breathless. 

Hero rolls his eyes and makes circles in the air with his finger, “Keep going, it’s just going to get colder.” 

Villain stares at the dent he’s made in the ground, then at his hands and the shovel in them. He sighs and turns to Hero, raising the shovel above his head. 

Hero shakes his head and pulls a gun from his belt, “Don’t be an idiot. Dig the damn hole or I can shoot you right now.” 

“What’s the point? You’ll kill me anyway.” Villain says, lowering the shovel. 

Hero cocks the gun and points it at VIllain’s lower body, “Did I say I’d fucking kill you? Or did I say I would shoot you?” He uses the gun to gesture back to the hole, “Keep digging.” 

With a newfound motivation, Villain keeps digging. He adds a few scoops to the growing pile next to him before he breaks again, hands now red from the cold. 

“Don’t stop,” Hero says, lifting the gun again. 

“I’m tired,” Villain says, looking up at him. 

Hero pulls the trigger, shooting the ground next to Villain’s foot, “I don’t care. Keep going.” 

Villain jumps, adrenaline now coursing through his veins. He keeps shoveling, making more progress than earlier, constantly looking up at Hero, who still has the gun in hand. 

But then, the adrenaline wears off and Villain’s arms are burning. The hole is nearly as long as Villain now, and he could probably lay down in it and be level with the ground. He slows down, still moving dirt onto his pile. 

“Don’t slow down. You still have a lot of work to do.” Hero snaps, reaching for the gun he’d re-holstered. 

Again, Villain defends himself, “I’m tired.” 

Hero rolls his eyes and unholsters the gun. He turns it over in his hand and rubs some dust off from the barrel. “I’m so fucking tired of hearing you say that.” 

Villain tosses another shovel full onto the pile and glares up at Hero, “Yesterday you almost killed me, I was in so much pain I passed out. What do you expect from me?” 

Hero shoots the gun and Villain cries out, falling to the ground, clutching his calf in his hands, “A little less lip.” 

Villain rolls onto his back, wailing in pain and trying to keep an eye on the gun. 

“What the fuck!?” He shouts, gritting his teeth. “You fucking shot me?!” 

“Maybe next time you’ll do what I tell you to,” Hero says, holstering the gun and picking the shovel up from the ground. 

He stands next to Villain, raises the shovel and drops it down on his chest. 

Villain grunts and inhales shakily, one hand peeling away from his calf to his chest. He rubs two fingers over where the shovel hit against him and closes his eyes when he doesn’t feel any blood. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” Hero says, lifting the shovel off the ground. He turns and walks away, not even giving Villain a second glance. 

“Wait!” Villain shouts, turning his head, “Don’t leave me here!” 

Hero stops, lets the handle of the shovel drop through his hand until it hits against the ground and turns around. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Hopefully before you freeze to death.” 

Villain’s head rolls back, having him stare at the night sky. The stars twinkle in the sky, the moon shines brightly down on him, and he feels the cold seep into his bones from the ground. 

He shivers, entire body shaking with the cold, but he doesn’t move.

~

part three (unlikely, but possible! send me an ask if you really want another part to motivate me more lol)

tag list: @morning-star-whump

[iwritewhump]

Could you continue Experimental Injection?

good news!

[iwritewhump]

"Everything hurts"

april is the cruelest month day 20

characters: hero and villain

warnings: cursing, drugging, captivity, loss of time

371 words

part one

a/n: ok this is short but it's late and i wanted to post today, so have this short one and hopefully i can write a longer one for tomorrow!

~

Hero bangs his fist on the metal table and drops a plate on the floor. “Breakfast.” 

Villain startles awake, crying out in pain from his head hitting the table. He instantly curls into himself, covering his ears. The rope across his middle goes taut, pressing tightly against his ribs. 

Hero makes a taunting cooing sound and squats down in front of Villain, “Oh, poor thing, were you sleeping?” 

Villain uncurls himself, just enough to glare at Hero, “Fuck off.” 

“Oh, just when I thought we could be friends.” Hero pouts. 

Villain draws his knees to his chest and tilts his head, chin resting on his knees, “You’ll get over it.” 

Hero falls onto the floor, crossing his legs in front of him and kicking the plate just a few feet away, out of Villain’s reach. “Guess the drugs wore off?” 

Villain blinks slowly and takes a personal inventory. He can still feel the blood pulsing through his body, but it’s definitely lessened since the night before, but it doesn’t feel like he’s been lit on fire and is burning from the inside out anymore. “Everything hurts,” He says, then blinks slowly and chews on his lip, “But it’s better than last night.” 

Hero blinks a few times, trying to decide if he should tell Villain it had been three days. He figures there’s no real point, Villain wasn’t going anywhere, so it doesn't matter, not really. 

“Oh good!” Hero cheers, pulling the plate closer to him and Villain. He pinches an apple slice between his fingers and holds it in Villain’s face, “I guess I’ll give her a call and she can come down.” he smiles, showing off his impressively straight teeth and presses the apple against Villain’s lips, “Eat. You’ll need your strength.” 

Reluctantly, Villain opens his mouth and Hero puts the wedge between his teeth, still holding on as he takes a small bite. 

Hero wrinkles his nose, “Good boy.” He lets go of the apple and slides the plate the rest of the way to Villain and pushes himself up. “You eat that, I’m going to call Supervillain.” 

He walks away, a spring in his step and his phone already in hand. 

Villain’s stomach turns, he hasn’t seen Supervillain in months, what’s she going to do? 

~

part three

[iwritewhump]

experimental injection fic here! read it before you vote!