#permanently tired supervillain

[chemeti]

drawing characters in others' outfits is free dopamine it's just that easy

[verysmolnerd]

Being the spouse of a Supervillain

You're the only person who he won't hurt. Why would he? You've been at his beck and call since he couldn't remember when.

However, you feel that you're walking on eggshells at times when the actuators have control of his psyche.

He keeps urging you to move on, that there was no place for you here; in the rickety old building you've shared since he bought the place. He honestly doesn't want to see you have a close encounter with the reaper again.

That being, you stay put, that the man you married is still in there. The shadows of his smile is hidden behind that snarky smirk. Some of the -rarest- most quiet nights, are spent on the torn up couch. It's almost like nothing changed at all.

You put your life on pause for a moment, you didn't go into work at all for weeks. You knew there would be questions, there always would be.

When you do come into work, you were given reduced hours because your boss wanted you to mourn the man you once knew, you refrained from answering any of those prying your personal life for issues. You normally report them within a few days, and then they're working in a whole different complex.

Even if the actuators are permanently a part of him, it's still Otto. His habits are still there, no matter what he tries to tell you.

You've also noticed that the arms still respect their creator to some extent, they never lay a finger on you. If they grab you, they are slow and patient never brutal.

One time you had gotten bruised from the pressure that the arms gave when they placed you away from the project. They soon fell limp while Otto had the nastiest look on his face. He never looked at you when he was like this.

He is always a gentleman to you, through layers of frowning.

The actuators only want his project done, therefore your Otto is just their puppet. However, they see you as a distraction until the beings of machine realize that Otto is human.

So, there isn't long lunch breaks together as you're used to before this mess. However, he eats in silence; in fear of the actuators lashing out on you for just seemingly wanting shreds of your life with him before.

You don't comment on his encounters with Spider-Man, you know all too well that the superhero gets bad press on the regular. Not to mention, Otto- sorry, you end up correcting yourself when the actuators are in control- Ock isn't entirely fond of him.

You knew exactly when Otto was too tired to fight the AI influence, because there have been consecutive all nighters the closer the reactor gets to being completed.

The times when the actuators keep him glued to the desk are when you try to get him clothing and alter them to accommodate the four tentacles protruding from his lower back.

There was one night that you consider was very special within the past few months that his magnum opus welded themselves to his back.

He had found some of his old outfits that weren't destroyed, and pressed down any urges from the arms.

"May this broken man take you out on a date?" You were near tears as you accepted.

He brought you to the top of a building with a makeshift table. It reminded you of your first dinner with him back in college.

He tells you that he's going to find a way to remove the arms and start anew. He wanted you to buy an apartment and to bring him to it on a specific day.

Considering that he's fighting for his life to look like the man you knew and loved -although you've reassured him multiple times that you still love him- you agree in a heartbeat. Happy that you'll both have a semblance of what life was before this.

The day to pick him up from the docks comes and you find no sight of him or the shambles of your house. It's all deep in the river below.

You can't recall how long you stayed there, but you had to live on. Live, that's what he always wanted you to do.

It's very hard at first, but life goes on.

One night -you can't quite remember what day it was specifically- you got a knock on the door.

You open it a little and it's Otto, with a small smile, holding a bunch of flowers.

Tears are brought to your eyes as he walks in, "I had a feeling that you'd buy the one we got back then." Any snakiness left him when he realized that you thought he was dead.

He promises to explain everything, but tonight he holds you as long as you needed it.... you ended up holding him hostage in your bedroom until the next morning. Even then, you don't let him out of your sight for a while.

He then explains in terms that you both can understand -because he finds himself not believing anything of it even after he's here. He was brought to another world just like this one where he was given a new component that prevented the arms from taking him over.

So, he starts the rejuvenation process, and does the community work to get back into society. He's stayed off nuclear fusion snd stuck strictly to advanced robotics.

However, you both still stayed at that apartment you first owned with him years ago. Never wanting to live on the water again.

There was one day where he brought you all over town, he brought you to so many places you visited together in your past. He had to be careful of the press patrolling for him since he returned. A former supervillain and a scientific powerhouse? That get's the press moving all over the place.

He then brought you where it all started, and proposed to you again. "I stand before you as a changed man, I love you so much. Will you marry me one more time?"

How could you say no?

It seems that you still have to alter his new clothes, but you don't mind considering how much more appreciative since he doesn't go around shirtless anymore.

He's cautious when using the actuators, only having them clean up and not touch you. Until you reassure him multiple times that you are fine with it... a few months later he's using them to trap you in his embrace.

You have him back, a second chance, and neither of you are going to screw it up.

[lakesbian]

thats one of the things about brian i think he Rationally Logically Knows he's, according to all of his understandings of gender, attractive, but he still Feels gross and like it's impossible 4 anyone to actually want Him instead of the generic male mannequin with a six pack and stock photo smile pose he's good at striking when he holds doors open 4 people. and he feels 4x grosser and more unwantable if he ever accidentally thinks anything romantic or god forbid sexual about a girl he has interacted with in real life before. alec's deal on the other hand is that he's never actually consciously thinking about whether or not he's attractive he just sort of considers it fact that he's objectively pretty and cute, or used to be but has sort of peaked, and now he's inexplicably but definitively bored of [waves hand in general direction of his childhood] All That, and also he's covered in hair & some pimples and teenage-typical sweat + grime now, and largely doesn't fit in his body right because he's both too tall and too short, so the entire thing is off the table and it would be ridiculous and gross and cringefail and embarrassing and plebian for anyone to be attracted to Regent The Cool Kingly Supervillain. and if someone ever indicated they were he would keep them at arms length about it by making enough fun of them abt it 2 get them 2 shut up forever. like brian sort of secretly really wishes that someone would Like him, the real him he can feel crawling around in his chest at night, the him that's really tired and sad and small a lot of the time. but alec only wants someone 2 like him in the sense that he wants someone 2 care enough to play video games with him and listen to him talk without looking at him like he's weird + sucks and then poorly attempting to hide that they think he's weird + sucks. brian considers romance and sex to be off the table of his busy little life + tells himself he doesn't have time for all that and doesn't care but is capable of having conscious thoughts about being sort of lonely and wistful sometimes. alec considers sex or--lmfao, can you imagine--romance to be off the table also but like. by such utter and permanent default that he never even considers the topic as a possibility. and if some Event happened to attempt placing the items back upon the table he would get real defensive about his table and start slapping everything off with a broom handle and muttering about how cringe and fail and boring and dumb and cheesy dating is. are you listening this is important undersider boys analysis

[raineandsky]

#2

The night is cold and the rain is merciless, hammering against the windows of the hero’s cosy home. They’ve been given the evening off, thankfully, and they’re glad to have avoided the bad weather – the typical heroic outfit does not take kindly to being wet, they’ve found. They’ve been enjoying the luxury of staying inside and watching the rain from the comfort of their sofa for once.

The doorbell rings long and unrelenting, the person on the other end clearly holding it longer than needed. The sound makes them flinch slightly, though they abandon their bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and kick the blankets off themself to answer it.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” they announce loudly when the ringing keeps going after a few seconds. Who the hell is visiting at this time, in the middle of the night and in a rainstorm, ringing their doorbell so incessantly?

It takes a moment to grapple with the door in their haste to open it and hopefully shut the doorbell up, and it takes another moment for their eyes to adjust to the dark outside once it swings open. They squint into the outside world, trying to make out the silhouette standing on their porch.

“Hey,” says a familiar voice, though it’s laced with anxiety. “I know it’s late, and we’re not exactly the best of friends–”

“[Villain]?” the hero asks bluntly, and the person on their doorstep nods. Now that their eyes are adjusted, they can make out the villain standing there. They’ve clearly been caught in the rain, their clothes sodden through and their hair matted with disregard. Their eyebrows are knitted into a seemingly permanent frown, their eyes turned downward in shame, their fingers fidgeting together nervously. The hero was fighting them just the other day, all flowing coats and passionate monologues. That seems a world away from this. “What’re you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“I know it seems weird that I’m, uh, here,” they start slowly, unsure. “But I have no other options. I don’t suppose I could, um, come in?”

The hero leans across the doorway protectively, hiding their safety bubble from the villain’s sight. “Why on earth would I do that?”

They can’t lose this. It’s the only place in the world that’s not work. The agency and the rest of the city just knows them as their hero. Their little one storey house is the only place they can just be themself.

“Yeah that’s a fair question, uh…” The villain laughs humorlessly, wringing the water out from their jacket as if to make a point. “I know I’m not trustworthy, but [Supervillain] is mad at me ’cause at I haven’t killed you yet, so they kicked me out and now I have nowhere to go because I thought they were my friend but I have no one outside of them so now I–”

The hero holds a hand up to pause their agitated rambling. “They’re mad at you because I’m alive?”

“They’re not a fan of my less than lethal incapacitation methods.”

They let out a tired sigh before pushing off of the doorframe, stepping to the side. “I’m letting you in because I pity you, and if you break my trust I’ll whoop your ass into next week, no questions asked. Understood?”

The villain’s face lights up at their words. “Really?”

The hero gestures for them to come in and they do, though their nerves are clear to see at the fact that their plan actually worked. They pause on the entrance mat, staring at the puddle forming at their feet. “Uh,” is all they say for a second. “I don’t want to make your floors wet.”

They only get a huff as a reply as the hero disappears off into the bedroom without another word, leaving them to fidget at the door. They return a minute later, a comfy, dry towel in their arms. They drop onto the sofa before tossing it at the villain. They almost drop it in the unexpectedness of the bundle of fluff attacking them, but they mumble a quiet thanks as they get to work drying what they can around their drenched clothes.

The sound of them dropping the now soaking towel on the floor catches the hero’s attention again after a few minutes. “You can change in the bedroom. There’s some clothes on the bed.”

The clothes laid across the covers are the cosiest things the villain’s worn in a long time. They make sure to zip up the front of the hoodie to maximise the likely temporary benefits before letting themself back out into the living area. The hero glances at them with a light smile, patting the spot on the sofa next to them. They sit down like asked, though a little further away. Just in case.

“So.” The popcorn is back in the hero’s hands, their gaze locked onto the TV even as they speak. They hold the bowl out expectantly. “What actually happened for them to kick you out?”

The villain takes a small handful, not wanting to push their luck in the hero’s generosity even as the blanket on their lap is draped over them. It’s a long story, and they sigh as they settle in. They’ve been invited in for the night; they guess they have time to tell it.

[smellslikera1n]

this has been sitting in my google drive for months & i realized i should post it here

So I reread Harleen because the first time I read it I had stayed up for more than 24 hours and was so tired that I could barely sit up, and I know it’s not canon but I kinda wish it was because like HOLY SHIT- at the beginning of the book, Harleen presents a theory at a criminal psychology symposium- basically, she claims that empathy is something that can deteriorate over time (obviously idk if this is accurate or not i’m not a psychologist)(but like, it’s in a comic book, it’s not always gonna be accurate to real life). Basically, supervillains aren’t always just born crazy, sometimes they’re forced to be that way, from being in an environment where you are forced to kill or do unnatural (mainly bad) things to survive, she believes that there is a breaking point to someone’s empathy, and that their brains will be physically altered by being pushed to this breaking point-

That’s important, remember it-

See, people like this theory so she gets sent to Arkham to do research! And so far, she hasn’t really gotten any results, she’s just slowly starting to get more and more depressed- and then the Joker pays someone to have her research brought to him. He reads about her theory and her research, and the next time she talks to him, he knows exactly what to say to make her trust him- he lies, saying that he did feel bad for killing at first, but that he stopped feeling anything at all after a while because the lack of empathy was necessary- he’s obviously manipulating her, he’s only pretending that his story fits into her theory perfectly, but she doesn’t know that. She sees this as a genuine breakthrough. She thinks that she is helping him, and she thinks that he can be helped.

And so she talks with him more and more and more and she’s starting to fall in love with him- meanwhile she’s in an environment where she’s CONSTANTLY surrounded by things that are extremely disturbing, and maybe she’s not acting abnormally just yet, but the way she thinks is starting to get more and more impulsive, and irrational, and she’s in love with the Joker. The Harleen Quinzel that gave that presentation at the beginning of the book is a COMPLETELY different person.

Then at the end, when someone threatens the Joker’s life, she shoots and kills that person. When she realizes what she’s done she has a moment of panic, but then she laughs, in a “Desperate moment of self preservation”. She isn’t laughing out of fear, or discomfort, she genuinely finds this funny, because to Harley, all of her good intentions “Were just a big fucking joke”. And like woah, um, that’s a weird thing for her to say if you still think of her as the same person that she was at the beginning of the book. But she isn’t the same person. Even before being thrown into the vat of chemicals (which- idk if that still happens in this universe but let’s say it does), she has hit her breaking point. Her brain has been permanently altered. She has proven her own theory. (and yes I know a lot of this does sound like ‘one bad day’, I’m pretty sure it’s like that on purpose-)

[zeravmeta]

“🖊“

Pray tell me, have you heard the tale of Johannes, the supervillain geologist?

So fun fact about this character: He's actually an OC i developed for, of all things, DC comics

So I'm sure anyone even halfway familiar with DC and the stories they tell know that one of the most popular storylines they like to recycle is that of metahuman rights. Anyone whose seen the Justice League/Young Justice cartoons knows exactly which one I'm talking about: government gets scared of superpowers, theres a bunch of people dehumanizing people with super powers, amanda waller is usually there, sometimes they throw in doomsday and a bunch of other genetically engineered super weapons, the whole shebang

There's also the joke about mad doctors/scientists in non-biology/mechanics based fields, where like the evil psychologist is NOT going to prescribe you your medication, or the evil linguistics major is going to say sentences thatll Hurt You, etc

So I had the idea of an evil geologist with earth based powers who isn't like FULLY evil but more that it's a snowballing joke of him getting more and more infamous because he's just too damn powerful

The thing with Johannes is that he's supremely powerful, THE single most powerful geo manipulator ever, and as a result he's highly feared. However, instead of using his powers to get rich through crime, he gets rich by using his powers for geological digs: instead of robbing banks, he's just digging up the earth, getting any rare jewels/resources or other things, and putting it back no sweat. Of course, any government would take offense to a metahuman using their powers like this and not giving them a share of the cut, to which he's like "oh I'm sorry, was I not causing enough permanent damage to the environment or something? I know you guys are the masters of polluting the planet and all, so..."

This of course gets a bunch of people mad at him, to which he ultimately pulls a bender futurama and goes "alright FINE i'll make my own nation with blackjack and hookers!" So, he goes to the middle of the pacific ocean, some of THE single most isolated places on Earth, and just slowly but surely starts causing a series of controlled eruptions to make his own landmass where he can live.

Now what does any of this have to do with the establishing first act? Well, Johannes told every single government in front of the entire world to go fuck themselves, literally made his own nation, and is also one of the single most wealthy people on the planet from all this.

Of course, he's going to have refugees from these nations come to him.

And the thing is, he's not nearly enough of an asshole to tell these people to go back where they came from, but this in itself also raises even more red flags with political opponents, and at this point he's now considered a hostile nation whose slowly building up his own force despite the fact that he's literally just an abrasive guy who wanted a beach house where he could fuck around with his powers

And with everything else established about DC comics and their world, I'm sure you can imagine how these events would play out, where he goes from random guy to high profile villain to leader of his own nation and advocate for meta human right, EVERYONE wants a piece of him for whatever reason and he's just so very tired, why him?

[kaibaspuppy]

!!

yaaay i finally got one of these ^_^ i may have written too much idk idk

(she doesnt have an image yet but if she did it would go here)

name: dr. minerva navarro, better known by her villain alias dr. arthopoda.

general information: minerva is a 64-year-old woman. she is caucasian, and she was born and raised in gotham city. she is a lesbian, and has autism. she comes from a jewish-catholic family, but is an athiest.

appearance: minerva is a pale woman with a thin face and frame. chin-length, curly grey hair that's hard to tame frames her face. her eyes are dark green, harsh and piercing with dark bags underneath them, and she seems to have a permanent thin-lipped scowl. she looks mature, but very tired. she usually wears a lab coat, turtlenecks, slacks, and dress shoes.

abilities: minervas abilities come purely from her suits. her most notable gadgets are insectoid wings and large metal spider legs (think like pak legs from invader zim but 8 of em,) which she uses interchangeably. she also has antennae that can pick up radio frequencies, and goggles that let her see heat signatures.

minerva is an entomologist, and was very well-regarded by her peers before her fall to villainy. currently she applies her knowledge in the field to creating suits and gadgets inspired by the biology of insects.

she is a rather serious, secluded person who, though brilliant, has a hard time making friends. she has a venomous wit, and is prone to wrathful outbursts when provoked. a lot of the time, it seems like her work is her life, to the point where she doesnt even try to deny it. shes very hardened and cynical. she hates vapid people.

she was in an unhappy marriage to david, an older man she grew to rather despise, and they had a child together - a daughter, whom they named eliza. she was a workaholic, and mever had time to be a mother. she left the both of them when eliza was 5, which she later realized was a mistake. she still regrets it today, if only because she wishes she had more time with her daughter. (she couldnt care less abt divorcing david lol sorry man)

decades later, after david died of cancer, minerva sought to reunite with the daughter she left behind in pursuit of science. eliza, now a fully grown woman, was harsh to her absentee mother at first, but they managed to become something of a normal family unit...

until tragedy struck. eliza worked for wayne industries, and was the victim of a horrible workplace accident that ended up being fatal. minerva only had two months with her daughter before the young womans untimely death, and it made something snap in her. she practically dropped off the face of the earth for a year or so, until she re-emerged as dr. arthopoda - a supervillain deadset on tearing down wayne industries.

her most notable ally is poison ivy. the two met in arkham, and formed a bond because of the similarities between their lines of study. minerva sees her as something of a daughter, and the two have worked together plenty of times. she is also friends with mr. freeze, as they have similar motivations and modus operandi.

otherwise, she has worked with lex luthor before due to their mutual distaste for bruce wayne. lex acted sympathetic towards her, and paid for minervas research and the construction of advanced suits for both of them. she turned on him when she realized he only wanted her technology, though.

tldr bug grandma who wants to wreck your shit

[altegos]

Séan "Jack" Stewart | NAYKT

Human | Superhero | 22/23

Abilities

Enhanced strength, enhanced endurance, enhanced agility, skilled strategist, high level of compassion, complex level of morality, highly stubborn.

NAYKT Character Facts

There's no gamma rays, no radioactive spider, no real origin to speak of. Jack's always been more physically dynamic than most others his age. At 14, after his mother's passing, he chose to focus his skills and start training to improve himself.

The hero thing started when Jack was 15 and mostly consisted of patrolling local unpleasant areas. His 'costume' was a red zip-up hoodie, a cheap blue mask he found in the bargain bin at the pharmacy, and after getting stabbed on one of his first nights out, a stab-proof vest.

When he was 16, Jack faced off against his first Supervillain - the Medic. A disillusioned scientist who had grown sick and tired of Captilistic interference in scientific progress - idiots investing in advances seen as profitable rather than those actually beneficial to humanity. The Medic ultimately surrended to Jack, inspired by his determination, stubborness, and seeing in him a chance to actually help humanity.

With the Medic on his side, Jack was able to up his game, and gradually upgrade his gear. The disgraced Supervillain becoming somewhat of a stand-in father figure for him as Jack drifted from his own father who had grown distant and work-obsessed following the death of his wife.

In the last 6 years, Jack has faced multiple Supervillains and not gone unnoticed, even having been targeted by a shady, unknown organisation who sent a fake therapist to Jack's university to slowly hypnotise him into hanging up the Hero boots permanently. They failed.

Writer's Fave Fact

Jack's superhero suit has seriously upgraded thanks to the Medic. Stronger, more durable, and still flexible while his mask uses a combination of science and magic to change the colour of his hair, subtly adjust certain small things about his face, and only be removable by Jack, unless he's dead.

He lives in the city with his boyfriend, Remy Wood, who after saving him from the fake therapist broke into amateur journalism through writing about the JB Man - a compromise from Remy's original wish to label him Jackieboy Man until Jack pointed out a hero name with his actual name in it defeated the whole point of having a secret identity.

[msfcatlover]

My favorite thing about the reversed!Robins AU is how obvious it makes it that as time’s gone on, DC has had to increase their justifications for having a small child fight crime. Because in the reversed!AU, you get to watch the Robins become LESS qualified over time:

Duke:

Has superpowers he needs to learn to control.

Has already gone up against a couple supervillains on his own before being recruited.

If it’s early enough in Batman’s career, Bruce might just think they need to get the Joker off the streets so they can focus on curing Duke’s parents. And in the meantime, he’ll keep an eye on the kid.

Damian:

Bruce’s biological son, so there’s no chance of just turning him away.

Raised by literal assassins, so there’s no question about whether he can hold his own in a fight.

Desperately needs someone to help him form a moral compass and learn to express himself in other ways than “condescension” & “stabbing.”

Duke is basically immortal, so there’s no worry about Damian permanently damaging him during deprogramming.

Stephanie:

Her father is a supervillain.

She was already vigilanting on her own, with NO training, and nothing Bruce can do will stop her.

She doesn’t even have body armor, at least this is safer!

She’s actually a pretty smart kid who could use some real support, and she won’t take shit from anyone (so Damian won’t scare her off.)

Tim:

Stephanie’s best friend, so there’s no way to keep him away from all this. (I like to think even if they didn’t meet through superheroing, they’d end up being penpals through one of those inter-school community things, or meet on a Batman forum, or something.)

An actual, literal child genius.

Still stalked Batman & Robin, and figured out their identities on his own because of Robin. (Lined up Stephanie’s “scheduling issues” with patrols or something, probably.)

When Stephanie’s out of commission, shows up insisting he can help out & refuses to leave until Bruce gives in.

Turns out his home life is shit. Wow, Alfred, we can do better for him, he deserves so much more—

Jason:

Smol, violent, and full of rage.

Street kid with the guts to take a tire-iron to Batman.

Has the WORST luck, and just keeps ending up in terrible situations every time Bruce tries to find a stable not-the-manor home for him.

Once again, this kid is really smart, and nobody appreciates him? Someone needs to nurture & cherish him, Alfred, someone needs to give him the support he deserves!

Statistics suggest he’ll either end up a criminal or dead in a gutter before he’s 20, and Bruce just can’t let that happen.

Dick:

Master Bruce, that is a child.

No, no there’s no excuse here. He could be rehomed. He could get therapy. He could be sent back to his circus.

I don’t care that the boy ran away multiple times to pick a fight with mobsters. You’re BATMAN. And you are far from the only vigilante in this city. There is no way you cannot keep ONE CHILD away from crime scenes!

I’m not saying you should throw him out. I simply wish you to acknowledge there is a nine year old in a cape in our living room, and that this is a problem.

(Dick, in the background: “I can kick your ass. I can kick anyone’s ass. I’ll prove it right now, lemme at ‘em!”

Jason: “…If anything happened to this child, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

Duke: “Maybe we should think—”

Tim: “I already texted Dami.”

Duke: “He’s not a pet—”

Stephanie: “He’s adorable, and we’re keeping him!”

Damian, racing in at top speed: “WHERE IS THE NEW LITTLE BROTHER?!”)

(And then it was too late.)

[septembersghost]

Nobody's perfect. Not even superheroes.

But God, I am so very, very tired of investing in major female characters in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, only to see them meet an ignominious end. Let's set aside the fact that it took 21 tries to even get a female-led film, 2019's Captain Marvel. There have always been interesting, bad-ass women in the MCU — they just keep being done dirty.

The men of the MCU routinely save the day, seemingly with nine lives to spare (not that I'm complaining about having more Tom Hiddleston in my life, but for the love of the Norse gods, how many times has Loki been brought back from the dead?). Meanwhile, the women of the MCU's greatest asset seems to be the most stereotypically feminine of traits: sacrifice.

Don't get me wrong, sacrifice is a heroic quality. It takes a special kind of person to lay down their life for the greater good. But it gets exhausting when that special kind of person seems to be mostly female (thank you for your service, though, Tony Stark and Vision).

First, there was Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), who, in the quest for the Infinity Stones, sacrifices herself for the Soul Stone, sparing Hawkeye's life. Her justification? Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) has a family who needs him. So what does that say about Black Widow's adoptive sister Yelena (Florence Pugh) or other close friends who make up her found family?

A lot has been written about that narrative choice, and it's arguably the most polarizing death in the MCU. Especially since it came after Natasha's character endured outright sexism for years, particularly in the Age of Ultron, where the script reduced her to her reproductive choices, having her call herself a "monster" because she can't have children. Despite all that, it might've been possible to take her death as a moment of valor that served the storytelling — if Marvel didn't keep recycling that motif to motivate its male characters.

Here lies Gamora (Zoe Saldana), Aunt May (Marisa Tomei), Ajak (Salma Hayek), Wanda/Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen), and the newest addition to the dead fierce ladies club, Dr. Jane Foster (Natalie Portman). And that's not even including the saintly mamas who have died to light a fire under their sons (hi, Thor and Shang-Chi). Or the varying degrees of lip service to female empowerment Marvel has come under fire for over the years.

Sure, a past version of Gamora may be alive in the multiverses, and not even Elizabeth Olsen knows if her character is permanently dead after the events of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. But I bet you can guess how she (maybe) died at the end: That's right, sacrificing herself for the greater good, even after being villainized for "breaking the rules," something her male counterparts do regularly. Sure, Wanda's rule-breaking might have cost many innocent lives, but it's not like she caused a universe-destroying Incursion (looking at you, Doctor Strange) or unleashed a wave of supervillains in a last-ditch effort to get into college (you too, Parker).

Even with all that, it was not until Thor: Love and Thunder that I finally reached my breaking point with Marvel's treatment of its female heroes' mortality. And I had such high hopes! Throughout the press tour, Natalie Portman made much of her return to the MCU being predicated on Jane finally having something interesting to do. The trailers showed Portman's Jane kitted out as a fully-fledged Lady Thor, complete with a winged helmet and wielding Mjölnir (did I maybe cheer more for this than even Steve Rogers proving his worthiness? Yes). What's more, here, she would not only become a hero in her own right, but she'd get to team up with another MCU favorite, Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson).

Imagine my irritation when the interesting thing they've finally given Jane to do is have cancer and die (yes, I know this is a storyline from the comics; it's still annoying). It's pretty evident from the earliest shots of her in the film that she's not long for this world. But it's a real pain in the Asgard that, like Natasha, Gamora, and Wanda before her, she only gets to step into the spotlight just as it's about to be extinguished. There are flickers of hope that becoming a Thor will strengthen and heal her. But for dudes, with great power comes great responsibility. For ladies, with great power comes an expiration date.

When Thor finally forces Jane to stop cavorting as a Thor and seek genuine treatment for her illness, he acknowledges he'll have to try to complete his mission alone. That is until Jane swoops in at the last minute to save the day (and his very well-toned butt), knowing full well the effort will kill her a lot sooner than if she waited in her hospital bed. Just like the women before her, she makes a choice — and that choice is to die for the sake of the world and the man she loves.

There is nothing wrong with this choice at face value. It doesn't make Jane (or Wanda, or Natasha...) weak or lesser than any of the male heroes of the MCU. Indeed, it's a death so noble it earns Jane a place in Valhalla. But it would be more emotionally satisfying if I hadn't seen it so many times before. And if it didn't feel like that, while the men of the MCU get to be arrogant, wholesome, angry, remorseful, and any number of complex things, women's clearest path to heroism seems to be death.

Sure, I want more female superheroes. More kick-ass ladies who I can dress up as for Halloween and cheer on. But not if their only purpose in the plot is virtual martyrdom. The MCU has taken great pains to make its heroes nuanced figures who grapple with the human cost of their adventures; it makes the case that there are many ways to be a hero. Unless, of course, you're a woman. (Florence Pugh, Hailee Steinfeld, Brie Larson, y'all might want to get a clause in your contracts, just saying).

Because women are expendable. We are living in a world where women are fighting for their lives and their rights daily, where misogyny is insidious, and women regularly fear violence from strangers and partners alike. It's easy to feel that the cost of our lives is cheap, that we mean more in death than we do in life. The MCU, intentionally or not, reiterates that narrative.

I don't want a fictional world of heroes where a woman's greatest superpower is death. It's a hill I'm willing to do anything but die on.

-We Need To Talk About Marvel’s Women Problem

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Kind of hoping if your requests are open as I am currently sleep deprived and quickly typing this before I lose my nerves-

Could you do an immortal zombie-ish hero\villain who is so clumsy that they had to live with medic cause of the amount of times they get injured. (Medic is tired of their sh*t-)

Bonus points if villain\hero finds where they live and stumbles apon a big accident. (Thought it would be funny if they don’t know the other is immortal)

A/N: Ah, sleep deprivation, my old friend😴 This was such a cool request, thank you for sending it! It’s actually kind of funny because I just made my requests guidelines and ~officially~ dropped that I was open to filling requests yesterday…while slightly sleep deprived myself😝 I also wasn’t sure how literal you meant for me to “zombie-ish hero\villain” so I took some liberties😊 Happy reading! Warnings: Injury, loss of consciousness, decomposing/deteriorating body, reference to blood, medical scenario, argument, slight betrayal, some swearing My Masterlist | Taglist Info

The Problem with Immortality

Hero stumbled, grateful for the hand around their waist and the second across their torso. Wheezing, they half curled into the medic half guiding them, half dragging them down the alley. A heavy exhaustion weighed down on their limbs. They were never going to hear the end of this, they realized grimly.

“The things I do for you,” Sidekick muttered, stopping barely long enough to swing Hero into their arms with their knees draped over one arm and their back being supported by the other. Hero groaned, unable to form words through the fog shrouding their mind in shadows. “Your body can’t take much more of this.”

Hero mustered a vague dismissal, more of a moan than anything else. No matter how much or how hard they blinked, the shadowy spots wavering over the edge of their vision and growing stronger with each passing second wouldn’t leave them.

“Yeah, I know,” Sidekick said through gritted teeth, “‘for the good of society.’”

Hero’s lips parted in a limp smile. The shadowy haze crept further over their vision, consuming their eyesight in its entirety. There was no use fighting it, so Hero let the darkness wash over them and pull them under for the time being.

Sidekick groaned, hauling Hero into the operating room and gently placing them on the table. There wasn’t much to be grateful for about any of this, but one they’d come to terms with was the lack of blood. After all those years of medical training, they were still a little squeamish when it came to the bigger injuries—the injuries Hero seemed prone to receiving—so the fact that their immortal and slightly deteriorating body wasn’t capable of blood circulation was almost a small victory.

Almost.

It didn’t seem like much of a victory when Supervillain had nearly killed them today. Or the time before that, or the time before that. Sidekick shook their head.

No amount of healing powers or surgeries would help Hero. It was only a matter of time before their body gave out on them, permanently.

“Immortality and invincibility aren’t synonymous, Hero,” they muttered, staring down at their mentor and greatest friend. “I wish you’d realized that by now.”

Sighing heavily, Sidekick and turned away from the operating table. Donning their gown and cap, they quickly pulled their mask on and thoroughly washed their hands. It would certainly be easier if they could heal Hero, but because their body was technically “dead,” there weren’t any active cells for their magic to work with. They couldn’t just will limb and tissue to fuse together again.

Sidekick pursed their lips. It’s not like it would matter much if they could fuse limb and tissue together again, not with Hero’s outstanding ability to trip over their own two feet. How they’d managed to keep themselves alive all this time was beyond them. Hero was one of the most accident-prone people Sidekick had ever known.

They eyed the neat stitches and ancient scars from when Hero’s body could heal littering what was exposed of their friend’s body. The grim comparison to Frankenstein’s monster came to Sidekick, but they quickly shook the thought from their mind.

Hero was anything but a tortured soul. They were kind and caring and they had the warmest laugh, and their eyes just light up like a dazzling star when they were excited. For all the years they’d lived, you’d never know it in the way they acted. For as dead as their body technically was, Hero was full of a vibrancy for life. Sidekick hadn’t ever known anyone like them.

Maybe that’s why they were drawn to them like moth to flame. Hero was a steady, guiding light in a sea of ceaseless devastation and discord. They may not be invincible, but they were unyielding in their love of life, and firm in their convictions.

The world needed Hero, no matter how many times Sidekick had to patch them up or how often they lost sleep over Hero’s decaying muscle composition or ever-brittle bones. They shook their head, almost certain that the only reason Hero was still alive was because they hadn’t noticed their body shutting down on them…though it was likely that their magic did its fair share in aiding their immortal curse.

Carefully preparing their surgical instruments, Sidekick pulled up a chair and steeled themselves for the hours of work ahead of them.

Craning their neck this was and that, Sidekick shook out their fingers. They’d finally finished repairing the damage Supervillain had inflicted on Hero. Blinking against the harsh light of the surgery, Sidekick glanced over at the clock. A new day had crept up on them unnoticed. And if Hero woke up anytime before sunset, they’d be sure to go patrolling again tonight, despite desperately needing the rest.

Sidekick’s brow furrowed.

Who was whistling?

Standing, their stiff back protested, but Sidekick persisted on numb legs. Grabbing the first thing they could get their hands on, Sidekick was armed only with a scalpel as they eased their way to the operating room door.

Twisting the knob, they carefully pulled the door open just a sliver to peek outside. The whistling echoed off of the brightly lit hallway.

“Oh, Hero, Sidekick!” the whistler sang, “where are you?”

Sidekick swallowed their groan.

Of all people, of all days, Villain just had to discover their base on this day.

“Come on now, it’s not like either of you to hide.” Sidekick could hear their smirk.

Their eyes flitted to Hero’s unconscious form on the operating table. What were they supposed to do? Peeking back out into the hallway, they could just make out the clacking of Villain’s footsteps beneath their crisp whistle.

They couldn’t leave Hero unprotected, but the further they allowed Villain to travel into their base, the greater the risk of their discovery.

Nodding to themselves, Sidekick slipped out of the surgery.

“Ah,” Villain said, “there you are!”

Sidekick whirled around, tightening their grip on the scalpel and pointing it at them. Villain only smirked at them. Their blood boiled at the condescension wafting off of the criminal. Gritting their teeth they said, “What do you want, Villain?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Villain shrugged, shoving their hands in the pockets of their cargo pants. “I wanted to see Hero.”

Sidekick narrowed their eyes, their lips curling in a nearly feral snarl. “And why would I let you?”

“Because I can save them.”

“What?” Sidekick stepped closer, jabbing the scalpel in the air between them menacingly. “Why would you want to save them, who says they even need saving?”

Villain rolled their eyes, taking a step closer and then circling Sidekick. “You did, just now.” Sidekick turned, trying to keep them in their line of sight, but the longer the scoundrel circled them, the dizzier Sidekick got. They’d been up for nearly twenty-seven straight hours now, all with maybe three hours of sleep if they were lucky to have even gotten that before Hero had decided it was time to go after Supervillain.

“Think about it, I’m a necromancer, you’re a healer,” Villain explained. “Between the two of us, we should be able to save Hero so they can defeat Supervillain.”

Sidekick swallowed. “And how, pray tell, does you being a necromancer actually help me?”

“Because based on the devastating defeat Supervillain just dealt Hero, I bet there wasn’t much for you to save.”

Their stomach clenched at the criminal’s words. “They’re fine, no thanks to you.”

Villain stopped circling them, raising their brow. “There’s no way they’re still alive, not if the rubble from the battle Downtown is as bad as Hero is after squaring off with Supervillain.”

“Do you seriously not know?” Sidekick asked.

Villain tilted their head. “Know what?”

“They’re immortal.” Sidekick rolled their eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than Supervillain to kill them.”

Villain stared at them. The criminal blinked. “So you’re telling me, that Hero can’t die.”

Sidekick shook their head. “Not that we know of.”

“Okay,” Villain shook their head, “but does that mean they’re indestructible too? So all that damage downtown and the video footage, Hero actually survived that? Unharmed?”

Sidekick glanced away, rubbing their arm.

“They’re unharmed, right, Sidekick?” Villain took a step closer.

“They,” Sidekick flinched, swallowing thickly. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Villain asked, narrowing their eyes. “They’re either alive and well or they’re on death’s door what with the power Supervillain hit them with.” Villain took another step closer, imposing on Sidekick’s fragile personal space. As if sensing their unease, the criminal shrank back. “Sidekick, is Hero able to defeat Supervillain or not?”

Sidekick shook their head in an attempt to bat their whirring thoughts away. Their blood hissed in their veins at Villain’s question. It took everything they had in them not to shout.

“And how would defeating Supervillain benefit you? You take their place, become the next big threat to the world?”

Villain shook their head, a somber expression on their face that Sidekick’s exhausted mind wanted to call genuine but the anger buzzing in their veins knew better. “No. I want it all to end.”

“‘It all?’” Sidekick echoed, stunned into an instant confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Supervillain, their scheme, their threat,” Villain explained, waving their hands around. “They took something from me, something very dear to me and I want revenge.” Before Sidekick could recoil away from them, Villain grasped their shoulder, holding them in place so they could stare straight into them with an unyielding gaze that shone with earnestness. “Think about it, Sidekick, you want to save Hero, Hero wants to end Supervillain’s reign of terror, and I want them dead. It’s a win all around and then we can all go back to living our lives.”

Sidekick studied them. The blood boiling in their veins had all but stilled, blanketing their body in a quiet vacuum in which their over-exhaustion threatened to make them collapse.

“How would this work?” they found themselves asking.

“I’m glad you asked,” Villain smiled. “I have a few ideas.”

“So you just let them?!” Hero sputtered, nearly lunging halfway across the room as they jolted out of bed.

“I had no choice!” Sidekick hissed. “All I can do is stitch you back together and hope your arm doesn’t fall off the next time you go to shake hands with someone, or that your spleen doesn’t rupture during your next fight, or that your leg doesn’t break because we all know a broken leg is a bitch to heal on a living person, let alone an immortal whose body is decaying around them!”

Hero blinked, taking a step away. Sighing, they ran a hand over their face and slumped back onto the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve never burdened you with this.”

“With what?” Sidekick asked, taking a step toward them on the side of the bed, “Treating you so you can enjoy your immortality without a broken body? Keeping your body as intact as possible so you can help people? So you can save the world?” Sidekick shook their head, dropping their gaze to their feet. “If there’s one regret I have, it’s that I can’t help you, not really. You might be immortal, you might be alive through sheer force of will at this point, but you’re not invincible, and every time you get hurt, all I can think is that this is the time that you realize that, but it’s too late.”

Hero was silent for a moment, watching as Sidekick crossed their arms over their chest like a weak hug.

“It would be harder on you if I asked you to stop, wouldn’t it?” they whispered, standing from the bed and meaning to close the gap between them to console Sidekick. They meant to continue, but their mind couldn’t string together the words they intended to convey.

Sidekick’s head snapped up, their eyes wide. “What—are you asking me to give up on you?”

Hero shook their head. “No. I’m only just realizing how hard this is for you. I’d thought it was an inconvenience, but I didn’t know you were so…emotionally invested…in me.”

“Yeah,” Sidekick huffed a weak laugh, “well, how could I not be? All you do is give to the world and then you come home and you walk into the table or accidentally cut yourself opening the mail with that letter opener I’ve told you a thousand times to get rid of because it’s dull—”

“Clearly it’s not dull if it can still cut me,” Hero laughed.

Sidekick groaned dramatically, twisting away for a second and then back again. “That’s not the point!”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because…” Sidekick turned away, throwing their hands up. “You’re infuriating.”

“And yet, you love me anyway,” Hero said, watching them walk away.

“I love you about as much as I love reality T.V.,” Sidekick called over their shoulder. “You’re a train wreck I just can’t help but be fascinated by.”

Snickering, Hero followed after them, stumbling over their tired feet and a bump in the carpeting.

“Ow!”

“Ugh, now what?” Sidekick was instantly by their side, “And why are you saying, ‘ow,’ you never say ‘ow?’”

“Because this time I felt it,” Hero said, balancing on one leg as they rubbed the toe they’d stubbed on the door frame. As their own words sank in, Hero’s eyes snapped to Sidekick’s. “I can feel it!”

Sidekick opened and closed their mouth, their eyes going wide. “You…you can feel pain?”

Hero’s eyes flooded with tears. “Yeah.”

“Is that…is that a good thing?” Sidekick asked, helping them over to the bed once more and crouching down beside them to examine their toe.

Hero tilted their head, wiping the wetness from their eyes. “Yeah, actually I think it is.” Sidekick glanced up them, their brow raised. “I haven’t felt this human in a long time,” they smiled, watching Sidekick sit back on their heels. “Next time I see Villain,” they mused, pausing again, “I’ll have to let them get away with something. Just this once.”

Sidekick started, but seemed to hesitate. Hero looked at them expectantly, the true smile they’d given in quite some time on their face and in their heart. The tension melted from Sidekick’s features as they stared back at them and finally murmured, “Just this once.”

General Taglist: @kaiwewi

[chemeti]

i have nothing to post yet because of art block so here’s filler

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[alecmagnuslwb]

Cadaver Fidelitatis

Read on AO3

“I don’t like hospitals,” John says as they reach the gates of the old abandoned building. Zatanna busts the gates and the front door open with a few easy words.

“I don’t think most people like them,” Zatanna says as they walk up the steps and in through the doors. The abandoned hospital is dark, barely any windows and not a single working light left, so Zatanna raises a hand a few magical lightning bugs giving them the ability to see. “But, this is where the big bad beast everyone’s been seeing reports about was last seen.”

“Yeah, but I just really don’t like them. Spent a bit too much time in them as a kid writing off injuries as slips and falls when it was just my dad.”

Zatanna reaches out grabbing his hand and pulling it up to press a kiss to the back of it with a reassuring smile. They walk through the halls Zatanna still keeping hold of his hand till a rustle of sound catches their attention.

They round the corner following the noise their hands readied for battle. A man greets them once they’ve turned the corner, short, pale and scraggly with a blackened smile on his face and a knife pressed to his throat.

“Mr. Necro sends his regards,” he says, voice scratchy and a little unsteady, before he draws the knife across his throat and falls to the ground convulsing.

“Shit,” John says as they run down the hall. A pulsing red wave knocks them both off their feet as the man convulses on the ground one last time.

They both groan as they lift themselves up continuing their rush over towards the body. They both crouch down when they reach him, Zatanna checking for a pulse that’s not there while John looks him over noticing blood on his chest that isn’t from his slit throat.

He brushes the man’s open shirt aside revealing a complicated rune engraved into his chest. He recognizes it immediately an ancient thing that used to be a common practice for warring magicians.

“Son of a bitch,” he says drawing Zatanna’s attention to the chest. She looks at the symbol with the same recognition he did.

“Fuck,” she says emphatically standing up to her full height and stepping back just a bit.

“A goddamn cadaver fidelitatis,” Zee says kicking the dead body. It’s an old curse, ancient and barely used because most people don’t want to die before watching their enemies wither away. “It’s 2022 who’s still doing curses like this. Newsflash wizard supervillains there’s new stuff that doesn’t involve spontaneous suicide.”

“Well, you know Nick, he loves the classics,” John says with a sigh shaking out his shoulders.

Zatanna lets out a long-suffering sigh falling back against the wall and sliding down kicking out her feet in front of her still poking at the dead guy.

“Do you ever just kinda wish we could change our names and permanently hide ourselves from everything and be left alone forever in some little corner of the earth? You know never get cursed or tricked into a curse or anything like that again.”

“Every single time your phone lights up with Bruce’s name on the screen,” he says with a smirk as he crouches back down next to the body.

Zatanna chuckles rubbing at her temples. “That’s the only times?”

“Eh,” he shrugs searching the dead man’s pockets. “Maybe days like today.”

“Maybe,” she huffs fondly knocking her head back against the wall. “So, we’re trapped and this dead asshat on the ground is the only one with magic word to get us out. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“All thanks to Mr. Necro,” John says disgusted. They’re both so tired of Nick’s bullshit they kinda wish he’d just get on with it and successfully kill them already.

“Ugh, so douchey. Like he was serving us court papers and not a death curse. And he doesn’t even have the decency to do the deed himself, just gets some lower level magician to his dirty work,” Zatanna says lifting back up from ground. She walks the length of the hall until she’s stopped by an invisible force that sparks red when she touches it. “Well there’s this way’s stopping point, bet we can’t even get to the other end of the hall.”

“Death curses that are meant to force people into long painful starvation death aren’t usually known for being giving in terms of comfortable space,” John says brushing off his hands as he stands.

“We could just scream until someone hears us?” Zatanna suggests.

“Soundproof box for cadaver fidelitatis remember,” John says stepping over the body and in front of her.

“Damn, right,” she sighs looking at the body on the floor. “Not that it would matter since that guy’s not looking all too talkative and down for sharing the secret password to get us out of here.”

“Not yet he doesn’t,” John says as he peels off his jacket tossing it onto the floor. He presses a quick kiss to her head before turning back towards the body pushing up his sleeves. He digs in his pocket pulling out the little pocket knife he keeps there.

“John what are you doing?”

“You think there was ever really a beast?” he says trying to change the subject as he kneels down next to the body. “Or did Nick just build a complex ruse he knew we’d chase?”

“Ruse probably, but that doesn’t answer my question,” she says kneeling down next to him.

John sighs flipping the knife open. “Look we can sit here and discuss possibilities and brainstorm, but at the end of it before the lack of dehydration or sleep hits we’re gonna come to the same conclusion there’s only one way he talks.”

Necromancy. It’s a dirty word in their world. Just because someone can do it doesn’t mean they do, there’s a darkness that you touch when you try that seeps into your bones. A darkness that can take months to shake, some even say it never does totally go away.

“John you can’t do this,” she says and he gives her a pointed look. He can, he just doesn’t have to like it. Because even the darkness he’s willing to touch has its limits. “Or at least you can’t do this alone, let me help. Let me take on some of the strength it takes.”

John shakes his head as he loosens his tie. “No way you don’t need this touching you.”

“And you do?” she says meeting his eyes.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs raising up the pocket knife and plunging it into the dead man’s chest.

“And you’re saying I can’t?”

John drops his head leaving the knife buried in his chest. “I don’t doubt your power, your strength. I never do, but this kind of darkness Zee. It’s something you shouldn’t have to be strong enough to touch. You touch enough of it when you touch me, love,” he says sadly brushing her arm slowly before going back to the knife. He presses it down in a line as far as he can go with just the small knife before pulling it out and wiping it off on his sleeve.

He lifts it to his hand but Zatanna stops him with a gentle touch. “That’s unsanitary.”

“Raising the dead usually is.”

“Yeah, well this is risky enough I don’t need you catching some bloodborne disease as well,” she lifts a hand over the knife whispering one backward word. “Naelc.”

He nods his head at her in thanks.

“Don’t cut too deep either, no massive blood loss okay,” she says resigning herself to just witnessing this.

“A little blood loss never hurt anyone,” John says with a casual shrug drawing the blade across his palm.

Zatanna squints her eyes at him. “That is categorically not true and especially not true when standing inside a hospital where a little blood loss probably hurt a lot of people.”

He smiles at her one of those devil may care nothing scares me smiles of his at her as he lets the blood drip down onto the dead body. He slices the other hand next before carving a simple but infinitely powerful rune into wrist.

He winces a bit as the knife digs in to his already iffy wrist. It’s going to smart even more than usual now.

Zatanna scoots back but stays close enough looking at him with a watchful and protective eye. He tosses the knife then hovers his bloodied hands over the body the Latin rolling from his lips. The dead man’s chest starts to rumble moving and pulsing unnaturally as John closes his eyes. The power surges through him as he presses his hands fully down on the man’s chest the rough skin going soft, soft enough that John can slip his hand through the man’s chest gripping his hand around his heart.

That’s when John opens his eyes, all black and empty hollowness. The Latin becomes more gravely as it slips through his lips, darkness and power crackling around him. Zatanna looks at him unblinking, not afraid of him but afraid for him.

The man’s body convulses once again, the heart in John’s hand beating off time. The dead guy pulls in an unnecessary breath that turns into a violent scream.

“Hey there you dumb git,” John says no longer needing the Latin to do its work. “What’s the bloody password?”

“Fuck off,” he straggles out in broken words. His left arm flails up trying to grab at John and he moves much faster than a dead man can leaning on the arm with his knee keeping it in place.

“Now see I don’t feel like that’s it,” he grits out. The man screams again a wailing moan that echoes through the empty hallway they’re trapped in. “What is it?” John struggles to get the words out pain shooting through every inch of his body the power of the spell scratching at his very bones.

He squeezes on the dead man’s heart particularly hard practically bursting it. The scream he lets out this time is high pitched, broken and bordering on breaking some sort of sound barrier, but only they can hear it. Zatanna winces at the sound.

“Okay, okay, just let me,” he pauses coughing violently blood pouring out of his mouth. “Die.”

“Happy to. Now cough up something more than blood,” John says his shoulders swaying slightly. This is taking a lot out of him and it takes just about every cell in Zatanna’s body not to reach out to him.

“Oblivion,” he barely croaks out and the wave of red rushes back over the hall, the barrier broken.

John lets go of the man’s heart and falls back onto the floor exhausted his eyes shut tight when his head knocks into the wall a little more roughly than he’d like. The mans body deflates more blood just pooling and pooling underneath him.

Zatanna lifts herself up into a crouch and finally lays her hand on him softly cupping his neck. “John,” she whispers rubbing small circles into his tense muscles. He lifts his head and opens his eyes and Zatanna watches as the black that’s taken them over bleeds away to the regular soft blue.

“Let’s not do that ever again,” he says lowly with so much effort Zatanna worries he’s going to pass out.

Zatanna smiles softly at him bringing up one hand and softly rubbing her thumb under one of his so very tired eyes. “Sounds like a good lifelong plan to me.”

She encourages him to stand with a gentle hand under his arm. It’s a struggle getting him up from the ground but they manage. She manages almost entirely on her own dragging him through a portal and back to her apartment in San Fran. There’s no dark magic there, just her and her magic blended into every fiber in the couch and every paint chip on the walls. She thinks it’ll be good for him to get away from it all for a little while.

Getting him cleaned up takes a while, he doesn’t have the energy to stand in the shower so she cleans him up with her magic carefully and swaps him into something more comfortable, something not covered in blood.

“I won’t be sleeping any tonight, Zee,” he says when she tries to guide him to the bed. So she diverts to the living room and flicks on the tv with a hand. There’s always a corny b-movie monster marathon on somewhere at this hour and she finds it leaving it on with the volume low.

John’s barely paying attention to it his mind a million miles away and she knows he won’t be himself for at least a day or two. Fucking necromancy, it only hurts the people who use it for the right reasons. He settles comfortably between her legs pressing his body up close to hers. His eyes are wired open, he’s pretty certain he’s not even blinking.

He always feels a little darkness buzzing at his edges but right now it’s like a livewire. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded to the reality that he’s not as dead as the man who’s heart he was holding in his hands is her touch.

She’s warm, alive, her heart beating under his ear. She’s got one hand buried in his hair that he knows needs a wash but she keeps it in place rubbing at his scalp, the other hand is tangled with one of his, her nails biting into his skin just a little, a reminder that this is real.

She knows what she’s doing and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. Eventually his body is going to force him to sleep and eventually he’s going to wake up screaming when that happens, but for now she’s keeping the darkness ebbed just enough for him to feel alive which is enough.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Could we pls get part 2 for ‘Weaponized Villain’? 👀👀

-whumpilicious

Thank you so much for this ask!

So I neglected rereading the other part. Villain's tongue is meant to be cut off, but he talks in this. Just let's pretend that he has like a voice speaking box or something, I apologize for this.

Weaponized Villain Part 2

Part 1

@whumpilicious @the-sky-writes @maracujatangerine @kim-poce @octopus-reactivated

Warnings: sedation/anesthesia mention, semiconsciousness, drugged character, past body surgey, body modifications, unconscious character, guilt, descriptions of procedure, conditioning, dehumanization, weaponizing, blood drawing, blood tests, syringes and needles, delirium, hospital setting

~

There were six doctors in that room, and ten nurses. All just stared; no effort was made to advance to help the barely conscious human on the gurney.

All their fingers twitched, curling around various surgical implements and syringes decked with needles. One even aimlessly dangled a stethoscope from their tensed fingers and with the deep metallic armor protecting the weakened body underneath, it would serve no purpose.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Hero rapsed, a slight squeak to the pitch in her voice as her emerald eyes rapidly glistened over the stunned faces of the medics.

"There are wires literally connected to the ends of his nerves. I don't even know how that's physically possible," one of the doctors informed the concerned hero with a faint knowing tone to his voice. He glanced at the lightly trembling hero before averting his eyes. "If we remove them," he continued, "we could give him permanent nerve damage."

Hero gaped, trotting over to the bed where the injured man laid upon. They were able to safely remove some of the metal mask, revealing tangles of wires and humming boxes. He was practically a humanoid machine.

But at least part of his eyes were visible. At least she could gauge the state of his consciousness.

They were dulled and very unfocused, rolling up underneath his lids. Hero sighed and ran a tentative hand over the smooth metal.

"We can however," the doctor interrupted the tender moment with a spark of nervous hope in his voice, "slowly take off the armor, starting with his feet to study how it was put on. If we are successful, we may be able to figure out a way to completely get rid of it. I would like to take some blood tests first though to see what's in his system. Even though he is hurt and weak and very tired, he also seems sorta loopy."

Hero nodded, a smile dawning on her face and stepped away from the villain who had just started to whimper and mumble incoherently.

"M-mission," he wheezed. "Kill."

Hero looked up with a pointed edge to her gaze. The doctors and nurses stiffened in anticipation, sharing glances with each other.

One of the mechanical arms raised weakly, before plummeting back onto the thin mattress. Villain groaned and coughed, barely audible, before slowly turning his head to look at Hero.

"I-i tried sir," he whispered before his eyes drifted shut.

The doctors all let out a loud sigh, letting out a caged breath they were all holding. Hero nervously crept over to Villain and laid her hand on his head. Unconsciously, he leaned into it. Hero pursed her lips, surprised that he could feel her touch.

The medics began to buzz around Villain's feet, lifting them and prodding at them. Hero pulled a nearby plastic chair up and sat next to Villain, swinging her hand underneath his helmet covered head.

She watched as some heavy-duty pair of scissors and pliers were brought to the operation. They fluidly removed the thick metal casing. Hero's felt her heartbeat rise at the sight of the intricate mass of colors from all the little wires, but then it settled again when she came to the realization that it wasn't too bad.

The doctors started to untangle the wires. Most of them seemed to be powering another function in the suit with only a couple imbedded into his foot.

Even with this hindrance, the doctors were still able to expose his pale, wrinkled foot. The veins stood out like a bodybuilder's bicep, blue and thick.

"I've never taken blood samples from a foot before, but," one of the nurses chuckled as she ran a thin needle into the most strong looking vein, "I'm sure this'll work."

The blood running into the little vial was sort of thin for being blood, Hero noticed with a frown. And it went in there slowly, much slower than all the times Hero had to take blood tests for her yearly physical.

Eventually, the nurse capped the vial and put it in a little tray that a much younger lady, probably a med student, took to where Hero assumed was a lab.

"So," the doctor spoke, his experienced fingers lightly touching the wires strung through Villain's foot. "These are attached to his nerves, so the wires get very thin. This is not medically possible unless the doctor had some sort of power which enabled this."

"Can you fix it?" Hero asked softly.

"Yes, but slowly. He will have to be put under anesthesia for the procedure, but I don't know if his body is strong enough to be sedated for long periods. To fully rid of this suit, he would have to be operated on for at least fifteen hours multiple times at that," the doctor explained. "All we have to do is get a high-tech camera and snip the wires from the nerves. For all I know, because as we have seen, he can feel still, the nerves aren't damaged."

Hero nodded, prompting him to continue.

"It'll be slow and very shocking to his body. He'll been given a constant drip of mild painkillers- just to take the edge off- and will have to be intubated to be fed."

Hero felt a tad quesy to her stomach. She brought her hand to carefully cradle her torso, the other still lying languidly under Villain's unconscious head.

"If it works, do it," Hero said, nodding to the doctor. He wavered a smile before ducking out of the room, a trail of chattering nurses following him.

Hero was left alone to comfort the sleeping boy. His eyelids quivered and twitched under the blazing LED illuminating his face.

She felt somewhat guilty. All this time Supervillain's "indestructible drone" was actually a living, breathing human controlled by an android suit.

It was sickening. Especially since Hero didn't have the gumption to investigate when the seemingly nonliving machine limped away from battle, when it would sway and collapse in a bloody battlefield, when it would seem to react like a living body did when it was punched or thrown against a building.

Hero ran her thumb over the cracked paint of the helmet in small circles, deep in thought. Her fingertips followed the dents and edges, pressing against them. This poor guy suffered so much and all Hero did was aid in that suffering.

"Mm boss," Villain breathed, desperately trying to roll over to his side in his sleeping state. Hero put a hand on the busted metal of his shoulder and gently shushed him.

"Mmmnh no," he whimpered, pulling his body to himself. His eyes slited open, dancing over to Hero as an awaiting expression washed over them. "D-dont... hurt... me..."

"I won't honey," Hero whispered, smiling down at him. It was only then that Hero realized how young the semi-conscious man was. Barely twenty-two, even a tad younger than Hero herself.

Twenty-two years old, a whole life wasted away. A life feasted on rough hands, pain and experiments. Hero shuddered at the thought, brushing her fingers over the exposed skin on his forehead. Villain grunted and pushed into her hand like a cat, needing that close comfort.

He was just a kid.

Hero felt tears spiking at her eyes. She wiped them away with the cuff of her sleeve, sniffling quietly. The emotion in his glassy eyes quickly contorted into worry, then fear.

He jerked as hard as his fatigued body permitted him to do, trying his hardest to get away the possible threat.

"I tried," he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I-i tried to kill... I did, please. Don't shock me." His screams rapidly ceased to muttered whimpers as his strength and energy ebbed away from him. He fell back into the gurney, eyes rolling to their whites.

Soon he passed out again, lost in the dark abyss of oblivion.

Hero looked down at the pitiful man on the bed with a sympathetic sigh before turning her face away, allowing the tears to come forth.

[whumpers-gonna-whump]

@whumpwillow

Whump Drabble: The Enemy of My Enemy...

It had been a few weeks since Villain had started working with Hero and their Team. An unlikely scenario if not for the fact that Supervillain had stepped up, proposing something dangerous for everyone - Villain included - and had the gall to be surprised when Villain left to help Hero defeat them. Villain was a lot of things; suicidal was not one of them. Sure his plans were devious, but it wasn't as though he'd ever planned for mass genocide. Supervillain was just too far gone, so Villain went 'turncoat' for the time being.

Or he was trying to at least. It was rather difficult to stick to anything when Hero and their Team seemed to capitalize on every little mistake he made. The mistrust was obvious - and understandable - but he didn't know how to make them see that he wasn't idiotic enough to go against Supervillain on his own! He lived in this city too! They evidently didn't care.

More than once he'd gotten injured on 'accident' during training, was left out of important meetings, wasn't given important information relevant to their mission, and he had half a mind to wonder between being run ragged if the Heroes were trying to have everything fall apart. He could understand the mistrust, what he couldn't understand was why they'd risk their precious city that they cared so much about, all to pettily exclude him when he'd been nothing but helpful. Well. Perhaps his sarcasm hadn't been appreciated, but his demeanor was well-intentioned as hard as it was for them to believe.

Surviving was the most important thing. He'd get them back for this later or something, he was just tired. He wanted to be done with this. The only one who hadn't been outright hostile had been the Youngest member of the team. They'd almost been amicable considering everything. Youngest didn't go against Hero or anything, but they never seemed quite...comfortable with the rougher training sessions involving Villain.

He would've been amused if the thought didn't hurt so much that he was scared he might actually be appreciating the sentiment.

It was enough to keep him from completely forsaking them entirely. It didn't erase the exhaustion or the bruises or the dark splotches becoming permanent under his eyes, but it was something. Unfortunately things didn't seem to get much better between all of them. The tension could be cut with a knife, and the suspicious glares being shot his way from across the battlefield weren't as easily ignored as before.

Still, he ignored them to the best of his ability and refocused on the task at hand. Supervillain had finally shown his hand and a confrontation led to an all out brawl against both sides. Hero was currently locked in battle with them, though Villain didn't know what to make of the looks Supervillain kept throwing at him every so often. He just focused his attention on the few henchmen brought along, taking them out rather sloppily as he was ordered to. It was pitiful in comparison to what he used to be capable of...but he just didn't have the energy.

It really was pathetic.

He went through another round of enemies, dispatching them roughly and breathing heavily from the exertion when he heard a cry from across the battlefield.

"[Youngest]- Look out!" Teammate cried in alarm.

Villain's head swiveled around, and sure enough, there was Youngest, about to be on the receiving end of a stray shot from Supervillain. Villain was moving before he could even think about the stupidity of the action. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he got there in time or not.

Villain slammed into Youngest, sending them toppling out of the way with a yelp - though leaving them unharmed - and had enough time to process that he felt relief at the action before there was an audible crunch as the attack hit him instead.

When the ground rushed up to meet him, Villain didn't have the energy to do more than think that he may have been screwed. It wasn't like Hero was going to help- And a shuddering gasp was all he could manage as fire lanced through his side, pain sharpening every time he drew a breath in. Something was clearly broken, and the black spotting his vision didn't bode well.

Villain thought the silence that followed was simply him being out of it, but the sound of approaching footsteps proved otherwise. There was a flicker of hope as he gasped in pain that maybe Hero did have a change of heart. When the shadow fell over him, and he looked up, it wasn't Hero, or Youngest, or any part of their team.

It was Supervillain.