surplus-of-sarcasm

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

can I get Whumpee in the aftermath of a battle trapped under rubble from a building collapse, and a panicky Caretaker thinking their dead for a moment. one their out Whumpee ends up with serious damage to their ribs and a hard time breathing, and Caretaker has to cary them to a healer.

Thank you for choosing the Whump Drive Thru, enjoy your order!

Warnings: Minor blood, restraining, exhaustion, and major injury

When the building fell, Caretaker had been the first to notice. Because Whumpee was in that area, they were one of the heroes fighting there.

Caretaker wasn’t a hero themself, but that didn’t mean they weren’t able to get to the scene quickly once it happened. 

Only because they weren’t a hero, they weren’t allowed near until the fighting was over. They argued with the officers blocking off the scene, the officers argued back. When they shoved one to the side to get closer 3 more showed up and restrained them, holding Caretaker back while they kicked and screamed.

“My friend is in there, let me through! I need to see my friend! LET ME THROUGH, I NEED TO SEE THEM, GET OFF OF ME YOU FUCKS GET OFF, LET ME THROUGH!”

Irritation grew, as did their panic. The longer they were prevented from nearing the scene and finding Whumpee, the less likely Whumpee would survive.

Everyone else was dismissed and very few were allowed by the scene for various work reasons. Caretaker was stared at, ignored, treated like some crazy person as they continued to yell to be let through to find Whumpee.

“LET GO OF ME, LET GO OF ME, I NEED TO SEE THEM, I NEED TO SEE WHUMPEE! LET ME THROUGH!”

It continued on and on, until their voice couldn’t handle it. One of Whumpee’s colleagues walked up, recognizing Caretaker. “Hey, hey! Calm down! We’ll find Whumpee. They’ll be okay, you-”

“Don’t talk down to me, dammit! I saw a BUILDING fall on them for crying out loud!” Caretaker yelled back, their voice raw from all the screaming. They stared down the other hero.

After a moment there was a sigh, and the person turned to the officers. “Let them through, they’re just worried about one of our own. If they have information about the location of someone it’s worth letting them in.”

The officers hesitated for a few seconds before complying, Caretaker being motioned to follow by the other hero. 

They didn’t follow though. 

Instead they ran, they ran and ran and ran, directly towards the rubble. Directly towards Whumpee. 

They knew where it had happened, but Whumpee wasn’t anywhere near the surface. So Caretaker started pushing, used what strength they had to shove pieces of concrete wall out of the way, coughing at the dust, nearly cutting themself on the glass of broken windows and mirrors, until they saw it.

A hand. The rest of the body was still trapped under layers of debris.

“Shit!” 

Caretaker started trying to move what they could, but it was too much. They’d exhausted their strength already. They weren’t a hero, and now because of that decision their friend-

They tried not to think about it. Tears began to well up in their eyes, their shoulder pushing against a massive piece of drywall, and not getting very far.

“No… No!” Their body slumped against the debris, jagged edges cutting into their side as their strength gave out. “No…”

The tears fell against their face. They heard noise but they couldn’t focus on it. 

Whumpee… Whumpee is-

The sounds got louder. Caretaker’s breath went ragged. The pieces of wall poking at them slowly alleviated. People gathered around. Other heroes, as it took Caretaker a bit to realize.

They moved the debris. Got rid of everything burying Whumpee. Removed layer after layer of stuff crushing them.

Finally, their body was uncovered. Caretaker feared for the worst.

And their fears were almost realized.

Blood was everywhere. Their clothes were torn. Their face was expressionless.

Caretaker was on them immediately, checking, just checking on their friend, until…

A light groaning sounded. It was painful. But it was there. Caretaker’s tears shifted from those of pain and worry and fear to those of relief. They held Whumpee close as they slowly regained consciousness.

“Hey… Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay now. You’re okay… it’s gonna be okay, Whumpee.”

Whumpee curled into them and winced as they irritated one of their major injuries. 

“What is it?” Caretaker asked gently.

“Mmmm… m’ side…” Whumpee groaned out, their breaths coming in ragged.. 

Caretaker carefully graced their hand along Whumpee’s torso. Their heart practically dropped as they felt a divot where their ribs should be. 

“We’ll… I’ll get you to a healer, okay? Don’t worry… It’ll be fine… I’ll get you to a Healer, they’ll patch you right up. Just hold on for me, alright Whumpee?”

They groaned while Caretaker slowly lifted them up. They made a pained sound with each breath they took in. 

Caretaker had already exerted most of their strength, running over and trying to uncover Whumpee on their own, so they weren’t sure how far they could make it. But they knew someone close.

Possibly the only other person they trusted with Whumpee’s life, and their first last resort. Also not a hero, but they were pretty damn close.

The walk was long and excruciating, but Caretaker held in there. They were stubborn, not accepting any help from Whumpee’s colleagues as they rushed out of the site, to a nearby suburban area. They knocked on the door, and the owner of the residence answered fairly quick.

Healer.

They took one look at Whumpee and motioned the two inside. “Come in. Set them on the couch. And lock the door while I get my supplies.”

You have been served by Anath :]

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Do Not Disturb

Hero got the call around midnight. They yawned as they approached Villain.

“How’d you get my number?” Hero asked, “and why did we have to meet so- *yawn*- early?”

“I need a favor,” Villain said, “I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but this is important.”

“Okay…” Hero said, puzzled, “what’s the favor?”

Villain closed the distance between them, grabbing Hero by the waist and pulling them close.

“Hold still,” Villain said.

A pinch in the back of Hero’s neck made them cry out. They tried to push Villain away, but they tightened their grip.

“What the heck!?” Hero demanded, “you’re gonna wake me up just to drug me!?”

Instead of a witty remark they would usually give, Villain pocketed an empty syringe and buried their face in the crook of Hero’s neck. They ran their hand up and down Hero’s back. Hero’s vision began to swim, and their knees buckled. Villain kept them upright for a moment, then lifted them up into a bridal carry.

“S-stop,” Hero slurred.

“Shh,” Villain soothed, “it’s alright, just go to sleep.”

Hero tried their best to glare up at them, but they didn’t have the energy to do so. Their head lolled back as sleep sucked them down.

…

Hero stirred when they felt a stopping motion. They blinked their eyes open and saw through blurry vision that they were in a car. They turned their head and saw a very high-end, very expensive hotel outside the window. The door to the car opened, and Villain crouched down in front of Hero. They were dressed in civilian clothes. Hero looked down, noticing that a hoodie and jeans had been slipped over their own suit.

“You’re not gonna like this, but you have to trust me,” Villain said, pulling something from their pocket.

“Trust you!?” Hero mumbled groggily, “What makes you think I- mmph!”

Villain had stuffed a couple of squeeze balls in Hero’s mouth, then secured it shut with a strip of industrial tape. They then covered that with a privacy mask.

“Now, try to behave yourself,” Villain said, pulling Hero up out of the car.

…

Villain escorted Hero through the hotel doors, up to the front desk. Hero was pretty wobbly on their feet, and their eyes were half-lidded, but no one seemed to care.

“Reservation for [Villain’s Name],” Villain said.

The concierge smiled, typing on their computer.

“Yep, we have you right here, a two-bed suite, is that correct?”

“That’s us,” Villain confirmed, returning the smile.

Hero blinked slowly, and when they opened their eyes again, the concierge was handing Villain two keycards.

“Enjoy your stay!” they said.

“Thank you, we will,” Villain replied.

“Mm-,” Hero started.

Villain’s grip on Hero’s shoulder tightened.

“Behave,” they whispered in their ear.

Hero blinked again, and before they knew it, Villain was sitting them down on a large bed. They looked over Villain’s shoulder and saw that suitcases had been brought up. When did that happen?

“I hope I got all the clothes in your size,” Villain said, following their gaze, “and yes, I remembered a toothbrush.”

Hero stared at Villain incredulously. They weakly reached up to try and take the privacy mask off. Villain gently pushed their hands back down.

“I’m sorry,” Villain said, “not yet.”

“MM!!”

“I know, I know,” Villain said, “you’re confused, you don’t know why I’m doing any of this. Let me explain, and then if you promise not to scream, I’ll take the gag off.”

Hero glared, then nodded. Villain took a deep breath.

“Supervillain is planning to destroy City,” Villain said.

“HMPH!?”

“They’re too strong. They plan to burn everything to the ground,” Villain continued, “I knew once you found out you’d try to stop them, so I brought you here, to Other City.”

Hero yanked off the mask and ripped off the tape, then pulled the squeeze balls out.

“What part of you thought this was a good idea!?” Hero demanded, “first you drugged me, then you kidnapped me, and you gagged me! If you think I’m gonna take this sitting down, you have another thing coming!”

Hero threw off the hoodie and shed the jeans, revealing their suit underneath. They began to make their way to the door, but Villain blocked their path.

“Where are you going?” Villain asked.

“To find the quickest transportation back to City,” Hero said, “and to stop Supervillain.”

“Hero- no,” Villain said, “you have to stay here, you can’t stop them, you’ll die trying.”

“You don’t know that! Why do you even care!?”

Villain groaned, exasperated. They ran a hand through their hair and debated opening their mouth. Hero scoffed and went to move past them, but Villain grabbed them by the shoulders.

“I care,” Villain said slowly, “because I love you.”

Hero blinked. That was not the response they were expecting. While Hero was distracted in shock, Villain took the opportunity to wrangle them back onto the bed. Hero cried out, charging their power, but Villain produced another drug, this time in a little spray bottle, and spritzed it in Hero’s face. Hero growled, trying to force Villain off of them, but the drug was just as fast-acting as the last one. Hero’s arms fell limp at their sides, and their power fizzled out.

“As soon as this wears off, I’m gonna knock you into next week,” Hero slurred.

“I know,” Villain said, “I probably deserve it, too. But I can’t give you that chance.”

Villain produced a roll of industrial tape.

“I really am sorry, Hero.”

“Villain, no-” Hero breathed, their eyes growing heavy.

Villain gently forced Hero’s mouth open- it didn’t take much effort- and shoved the squeeze balls back inside. They held Hero’s mouth closed and wrapped a few layers of tape around their head. They then got to work on Hero’s body, pinning their arms to their sides and their legs together. By the time Villain was done, Hero looked like they belonged in a sarcophagus.

Villain maneuvered Hero under the covers of the bed and tucked them in. By now, Hero had passed out. They planted a small kiss on their forehead, then went to hang a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle. Once that was done, Villain left to grab something to eat. Guilt usually kept them from being hungry, but they figured dinner might distract them from it.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

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I hate when a tiny stupid thing pushes you over the edge and makes you freak the fuck out because it makes you look like a completely irrational tar pit of a human being. Like no I promise this is warranted just maybe not about that specifically I swear I'm well adjusted. Come closer stick your fingers in my cage

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Your Wounds, My Hands, Your Sutures

TW: Blood, bruises, toxicccc relationship dynamic, angst

note: hero has super-strength and villain does not

He doesn't even know what he's feeling anymore. The hero's hands have left knuckle-shaped bruises in dusty purples blossoming all over his body. His lip split and cracked and his nose is bleeding, every muscle pulled into a knot with the uncomfortable burn of lactic acid.

She's beat him senseless again. He feels his long lashes are sticky with blood from a scratch on his forehead. He wonders how he hasn't collapsed with all these shivers racking his tormented body.

It's not like he hadn't beat the hero up a little. He left a trail of bruises on her cheekbone, scratches on her arms and blood on her jaw. But it didn't matter what he did because she'd always left him in a worse state.

And somehow, after all this, the hero's same cruel hands cannot be gentler with him when they were back at his place, masks off. She runs him a bath with the perfect temperature of water, petals of roses floating on the surface, his favourite flower as she had come to learn. After he changes into fresh clothes, she sits him down in front of the dressing table now full of products the heroine had bought when she'd noticed how poor his self-care was. She carefully brushes out the tangles in his damp hair, rubbing some serum or whatever into his scalp. The last time, she hadn't done his hair, he noted.

He sits down on the bed, and she rubs gel onto his bruises, the same fingers that gave him the contusions being the ones that were so gentle on his skin, carefully trying to avoid pressing too hard on the tender spots. The hero crisscrosses bandages all over his upper body and his face, bandages he wouldn't even need if it weren't for her.

She uses her strength, the one previously used to put him through agony, to knead out the tension in his neck and shoulders and some places along his spine for a good half hour or so. He doesn't even need to tell her where he's sore because she's fully aware of where she struck, and yet no one can calm the angry fire in his muscles like she can, not that anyone's tried. He can't help but melt into the touch this time, leaning forward and closing his eyes, no longer able to keep up the stiff and stubborn act, his treacherous body relaxing against his will.

The villain doesn't understand really, how the hero's eyes, alight with malice a mere few hours ago as she slammed her fist in his jaw and let pain bloom across his face as blood spurted out his mouth, are now the softest he's ever seen, the cruel midnight blue looking at him like he was some sort of treasure. He can swear that if he stares hard enough, she looks almost apologetic.

"You're gorgeous," she croons, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, taking in his fresh, post-bath scent.

The villain wants to flinch, but he doesn't, forcing his body to remain still for a moment before pulling away and kissing the hero's hands. Because it makes him feel like he has a hand in this, like he has control.

Control he loses the second the hero's fingers are stroking through his hair and rubbing cold cream into the dry, battered skin of his face in circular motions, his clenched jaw relaxing under the touch.

She was even more gentle and meticulous with him than last time, but in turn, she'd beat him up even worse. As intoxicating as it was, the feeling of care, the villain wasn't too stupid to not notice the pattern.

Every time the pain got worse, the fights harsher, the hero's fists drawing more blood, striking barely healing areas, more and the look in her eyes growing more wicked. And in turn, she lavished him with softer care, alternating between treating the villain like a punching bag and royalty.

The villain never thought he'd be trapped in a cage and never reach for the key. A bird with broken wings that never dared to fly when they healed. A cage of the hero's torment and, worst of all, his own foolishness, his own greed for affection. Maybe not all of him was in a trance; maybe some part of him was thrashing against its bindings, clawing at his prison's walls, screaming to get away. But if the villain was ever to be free, that part would have to scream loud enough to rouse him from his stupor.

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-24 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-sigma-vampire-boss6969 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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Hero Darling

Supervillain sat Hero up in their chair. Hero was completely out of it, only registering Supervillain's touch at the last second. Their efforts to flinch away from them were feeble at best, and they barely moved.

"Ah ah," Supervillain said, "we talked about flinching."

Not that Hero could move much even if they weren't drugged, as Supervillain had wrapped several leather straps around their body. The leather dug into their chest, arms, wrists, thighs, legs, and ankles. Not an inch of them was free. Hero's lucidity was just starting to come back when they felt a pinch in their arm.

"There we go," Supervillain cooed.

Hero's vision became blurry, and any ounce of resistance they had faded away. Supervillain smiled, and held a spoon up to their lips.

"Eat, my darling."

Hero blinked slowly. Supervillain wanted them to do something, but they weren't sure what. Everything they had just said sounded like it was underwater. Hero opened their mouth to ask what Supervillain wanted when the spoon was gently shoved in their mouth. Flavors danced on Hero's tongue and they let out a small whine. Whatever it was tasted really good.

"You like it?" Supervillain asked sweetly, "I knew you would, I made it just for you."

Supervillain continued to spoonfeed Hero the soup. Hero almost fell over a couple of times, but Supervillain was there to steady them. Only when Hero's eyes started drooping shut did Supervillain set the spoon down and gently lift them into their arms in a bridal carry.

"I wish you could be this good for me all the time, my little hero," Supervillain said, planting a tender kiss on their forehead.

Supervillain carried Hero out of the dining room through the halls of their mansion. They brought them into their designated bedroom, where there was a freshly made four-poster bed waiting for them. Supervillain thought about undoing the straps before tucking Hero in, but then thought better of it. Supervillain set Hero down in the bed and pulled the covers up to their chin. Hero wasn't ready to share a bed with them yet, but that would come soon. They reached down and gave Hero another kiss, this time on their cheek. Hero stirred a little, but didn't fully wake. Supervillain smiled down at them fondly, then left the room to let them get their rest, making sure to lock the door behind them.

Part 2

Edit: AHHHH I forgot the taglist!!!

Tags:

@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

Ko-fi

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gotta love me some tired Leader Whumpees *◜✧˖°

“Leader…” Second lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he barely glances up from his desk. Paperwork and old files strewn haphazardly across the ink-stained wood.

“You need a break, you can’t keep on doing this to yourself.” she lays her hand to the back of his head, idly fiddling with the soft, dark locks.

Leader doesn’t budge; tired eyes fixed onto the image of a smug old man on the file in front of him—a lead suspect for the recent missing children’s cases the team’s been struggling with for just over a month now. 

“Leader.”

“What?” he half snaps.

It comes out harsher than Leader had intended. 

Leader curses under his breath, taking a moment to compose himself as he rubs at his bleary eyes with the back of his wrist.

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s been so long. We keep running into dead ends. I-“

“Take a break, Lead, please.” Second gently brushes the hair out of his eyes. “You’re going to run yourself into the ground, I can’t drag your unconscious butt to the medical wing again.”

Despite her berating, there’s no real bite to her words, only concern.

Leader sighs, his fatigue evident in the way his shoulders slump ever so slightly. “I need to do this, Second… I need-“

“To rest.” She smiles, her heart aching for him.

Leader groans halfheartedly as Second wordlessly takes him by the hand and leads him to a nearby couch, lying down with him on top of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck as her fingers gingerly rub his scalp.

“It’s nearly five in the morning. We’ll talk about your dumb habits when you wake up, okay?” She coos, feeling Leader go limp under her touch.

Leader doesn’t have the energy to reply. He only nods—drifting off into a deep, dreamless, much-needed sleep. 

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i think people get so used to their own creative work that they forget how amazing it is so i’m making this post as a reminder You are the only person capable of making art the exact way you make it. nobody else on earth can do that. there are always going to be those little habits and intricacies and details that simply cannot be replicated whether it’s in writing or painting or textiles and you make life all the better for it i love my friends’ art i love art from strangers im trying to love my own art I LOVE YOU!!! THE PERSON READING THIS!!!!!!! YOU ARE A PART OF THIS WORLD NEVER EVER STOP MAKING THINGS THAT CAN IMPACT IT

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THANK YOU FOR THE TAGG!! So sweettt 💜💜💙💙

Favourite colour: Shades of blue and turquoise (yes, that's two colours, but I've never been one for rules anyway), like colours of the sea are just gorgeous. But I tell most ppl my favourite folour is blue.

Last song: the last thing I played on spotify today was Doctor You by DNCE.

Currently reading: Due to engineering actively destroying me, I am not reading anything 😭😭. My most recent read that I haven't finished yet was "Batman: Nightwalker" by Marie Lu. That's not counting all the wonderful stuff heroxvillain and whump writers put out on tumblr 💜

Currently watching: Person of Interest. Really nice show that you should check out. Action, a little bit of sci-fi (really advanced AI n tech n stuff). I think its first season was 2010? Some whump in there too! And some dumb instagram n YouTube reels.

Currently craving: Ice cream and my assignments doing themselves.

Coffee or tea: You CANNOT make me choose. I love anything caffeinated. It's literally in my blood! I drink more tea bec it's a bit lower in caffeine, so it usually is a better choice as a stimulant when I'm nervous and my mum doesn't like me drinking too much coffee, but I love the taste of both!

Tagging: @piplupfluffwritingstuff2 @thelazywitchphotographer @those-damn-snippets @sunnynwanda @mirohtron @feline17ff

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS!

Rules: answer and tag six people you want to know better

Thanks for thinking of/tagging me @thoughtslikeaminefield It’s been a pleasure interacting with you the past couple of days ❤️

1. Favourite colour: Teal

2. Last song: Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry

3. Currently reading: Outlander Series (technically it’s collecting dust on my bookshelf because I mostly read fanfic…)

4. Currently watching: Single’s Inferno, Medium, and forever casually rewatching SPN

5. Currently craving: the bag of sweet chilli & sour cream chips I bought earlier (just waiting for kiddos to go to bed)

6. Coffee or tea: coffee! An iced latte any season.

@losers-clvb @middleearthislife @my-stories-vault @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @jollyhunter

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Royal Whumpee being held hostage in their own palace but forced to act like everything's fine to the public send post

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Royal Whumpee being held hostage in their own palace but forced to act like everything's fine to the public send post

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

a fate worse than death

The hunter and the vampire danced across the mansion, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. Blades clashed against fangs and claws. Silver bullets flew in every direction; fast, but not fast enough.

The hunter’s element of surprise was long gone, and so was their momentum. The fight was reaching its crescendo. They parried and parried and parried, using every trick they could think of to fend off the inevitable for just a few more seconds.

This was no longer about survival. It was about dignity.

“Enough,” the vampire snarled. A hard shove sent the hunter flying, an ominous crack resonating through their spine as they crashed into a bookshelf on the other side of the room. Explosions of pain erupted through their body. They fell to their knees, ears ringing, heart racing. They pulled themselves together, planting a palm on the floor to bounce back up on their feet—

The hunter’s legs didn’t move.

Oh.

A final rush of adrenaline sizzled through their bloodstream before dying out altogether. Their empty gun slid out of their hand.  

It was over.

The vampire plucked a bullet from of a bleeding crater in their shoulder, frowning at the silver shell before tossing it on the cracked mahogany flooring. The wound instantly knitted itself back together, leaving nothing behind but a stain of red on the vampire’s torn shirt. They were old—far older than the hunter had expected. The hunter had taken down the fledglings inhabiting the lair, but against the monster itself, they hadn’t stood a chance.

A resigned smile tugged at the hunter’s lips as their gaze swept over the havoc they’d wrought. Toppled furniture. Shattered chandeliers. Numerous piles of ash, marking the exact location where each fledgling had met their demise. The battle had left the structure of the mansion fundamentally compromised, allowing beams of sunlight to trickle in through gaping holes in the walls. No matter what happened next, the vampire was going to have to find themselves a new batch of fledglings and a new lair.  

As far as last stands went, the hunter could have done worse.

“Are you done?” The vampire wrinkled their nose at the demolished sitting room, clearly following the same train of thought.

“I believe so,” the hunter said, and they meant it. They’d been in the business long enough to recognize a body broken beyond repair. They could feel their life slip further away from them with every rattling breath.  

“I was rather fond of this place, you know,” the vampire said, their voice clipped. “I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish, but I hope you’re satisfied.”

“Would’ve been nice to take you down with me, but yes.” The hunter raised their chin. “I’m satisfied.”

The hunter was not afraid of death. They’d encountered enough immortal creatures over the years to know that a limited lifetime was, in many ways, a blessing rather than a curse. Despite being little more than soft flesh and brittle bones, humans carried something within them that those monsters seemed to lack.

A soul.

Any moment now, the hunter would meet their family again. Their siblings, their parents, their grandparents—an entire bloodline of fallen hunters, waiting for them on the other side. Human lives may be fleeting, but souls were eternal. Death was not the end. Death was a journey into the unknown, marking the start of a new beginning.

The hunter was not afraid.

“Cheeky.” The vampire’s fury lost its edge, shifting into mild annoyance. They tilted their head to the side, studying their prey. “This is usually the part where my uninvited visitors break down in tears. You do understand that I’m going to kill you, right?”

“There are fates far worse than death.”

“I see,” the vampire said, their face unreadable. “How can you be so certain?”

The hunter’s skin crawled under the vampire’s unblinking scrutiny. “I just know.”

“You just know.” The vampire snorted—a surprisingly human sound coming from a monster. “You really are a peculiar creature.”

“How so?” the hunter couldn’t help but ask.

“Mortals tend to cling to life like it’s the only thing worth fighting for. It’s in your nature. You beg. You plead. You bargain. This?” The vampire finally blinked, their lips forming an uncanny imitation of a smile. “This is new.”

The vampire sauntered towards them, carefully avoiding the intruding rays of sunlight. Their effortless grace made the hunter add a few more centuries to their approximate age. There was something unmistakably wrong about the way ancient beings moved. The world seemed to curve around them, like a river branching to make room for a particularly stubborn rock.

The vampire’s presence was like a declaration of war against time itself.

“So… what’s the secret?” The vampire crouched before the hunter, their gaze lit up by genuine curiosity. “Terminal illness? Insanity?” They paused. “Nothing to live for?”

A spike of pain that had nothing to do with their ruined body needled its way into the hunter’s chest; an invisible blade slipping between the cracks of their broken rib cage. The faces of their nieces, their nephews, and the citizens they’d sworn to protect flashed before their eyes.

“I’ve got plenty to live for,” the hunter said. “Which means I’ve got plenty to die for as well.”

“Sounds a bit contradictory to me.”

“It’s not.” A guttural cough tore free from the hunter’s throat, leaving them gasping for breath. “If it’s all the same to you, I would like to… to go now. Just finish it.”  

“Finish it? After everything you just told me?” The vampire’s cold laugh shattered the sense of civility that had somehow grown between them. “Oh, little one, we’re not done yet.”  

Blood drained from the hunter’s face. An emotion they thought they’d already conquered formed a vengeful knot under their sternum, its claws digging deep into their stomach.     

Fear.

“A swift death would be a blessing for someone like you. A gift.” The vampire leaned closer. “You killed my children. You destroyed my home. I’m not feeling particularly charitable right now.”

The hunter instinctively tried to scoot backwards, but their useless legs kept them anchored to the floor. The fact that they’d even tried to move at all shook them to the core. Their fear had spread to the point that they were now acting upon it.

“I did enjoy our little chat, though. A peculiar creature indeed.” The vampire fell silent, disappearing into their own thoughts. The hunter held their breath, waiting for the final verdict.

The obvious solution seemed to hit them both at once.

No.

The vampire’s face split into a bone-chilling grin. The hunter’s heart plummeted through their chest.

No, no, no.

The hunter's pride finally cracked. They wanted to beg, to plead, to bargain, to scream, but they knew it wouldn’t make a difference.  

It was the perfect punishment for a human unfazed by death.

It was the perfect way to rob the hunter of what they valued the most.

 “I think immortality would look good on you,” the vampire said, and slid their fangs into the hunter’s throat.

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ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

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googledocs you are getting awfully uppity for something that can’t differentiate between “its” and “it’s” correctly

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Prompt 2

"Supervillain," Villain's mouth was dry, "don't... don't do this."

"I warned you. I gave you an order." Supervillain's voice was eerily calm. "You deliberately dissobeyed me."

Villain gulped. "Supervillain, please-"

"Be quiet." The voice of the greater villain turned harsh, their grip on the bound hero under them tightened, causing Hero to whimper in their gag. Villain shut their mouth, cold sweat dripping down their face.

"Did you think I wasn't going to find out?" Supervillain's jaw clenched. "How exacly were you going to go about this, Villain? Were you hoping to, I don't know, possibly fake your deaths and live as normal civilians far away from here, happily ever after?" Both the hero and the villain flinched. Supervillain's mouth curled into a mocking smile. "Oh, you can't be serious."

Villain took a small step forward. "Supervillain, listen to me," they begged, hands up to show they were unarmed, "we can talk about this. Please," they met Hero's gaze and their heart clenched at the fear in their captured lover's eyes, "please don't hurt them."

Supervillain only huffed out a small laugh. "You think I'd let you go unpunished?"

Villain paled as Supervillain suddenly grabbed Hero's face, their nails scratching the crime-fighter's cheeks. "You listen to me, Villain. And you listen well. You see them?" They cocked Hero's head forcefully toward Villain's, who clenched their hands into fists at their lover's muffled cry of pain. The supervillain continued, a flicker of sadistic amusement flashing in their eyes. "Take a good, long look, Villain," they smiled slowly, "because this will be the last you'll ever see of them."

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do you ever hear yourself talking and one word comes out very pronounced in you regional accent and you get irrationally embarrassed because oh no now people are going to know i’m from a place

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prompt #9

“The big hero, so small now, so helpless,” the villain tutted mockingly. They knelt down and turned the collapsed hero’s chin up to look them in the eyes. The hero let out a choked sob, tears trailing down their ash-strewn face. “What are you going to do, little hero?” The villain teased. “Now that I’ve won? Now that all your poor friends are dead? What’s next on your pathetic agenda, hmm?”

“N-now…” they managed to gasp, a fit of coughing cutting off their words.

The villain tightened their grip, leaning closer and smiling a grin of pure evil. “Yes, my dear hero?”

“Now,” the hero said in a quiet rasp, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”