#villain and hero

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hero Kidnaps Villain Part 13

Warnings: torture, villain whumpee in captivity, humiliation, treated like a dog, degrading talk, sensory deprivation

Today was going to be hell for him. Nothing but hell. And he knew he'd be screaming the whole time. Superhero would make sure of that.

The female apprentice was vicious and violent, almost as bad as Superhero was as she laid into Villain with vigor, not holding back the slightest. She struck wherever she could, any place Villain wasn't able to shield fast enough. It was like a game to her.

Even though Villain recited his rules over and over again in a desperate attempt to appease her, she didn't stop until Superhero called her off to let the young man have a turn next, passing the blood-slicked cane to the second apprentice to practice.

Villain stared at the male apprentice with eyes full of unbridled terror, cowering and shaking like a leaf. His skin was split in so many places that every tiny tremble tugged on open gashes, spilling more blood onto the floor.

The man cringed when Superhero placed the cane in his hand, not looking nearly as enthusiastic as the girl had been to inflict pain. He didn't look excited; he looked... disgusted.

But orders were orders, and he couldn't defy his mentor. So he took a reluctant step in Villain's direction, visibly wincing when Villain recoiled hard enough to hit the far wall with a cry of pain, injuring himself more just in a vain attempt to escape.

But there was nowhere for him to go. The apprentice strode over and crouched in front of him, holding the cane loosely in his hand. His eyes roamed over the damage the female had already inflicted, all the blood and bruises making it hard to see the extent of it.

"Lay down," the apprentice ordered gruffly, and Villain practically threw himself to the floor, rolling onto his back like a submissive dog because that's what Superhero always wanted him to do. Laying down meant belly-up for beating, a vulnerable position to be in.

The male apprentice hesitantly tapped one of Villain's ribs with the tip of the cane, and Villain shrieked in pain even at that, making the young man flinch sympathetically.

"I know the Agency doesn't treat villains with soft hands, but isn't outright torture taking it a little too far?" He said over his shoulder to Superhero. "Aren't we the good guys?"

Villain's eyes rolled over to look at Superhero, catching the slight frown that twisted his lips.

"We are," Superhero affirmed strongly, "but sometimes being the hero means doing what's necessary to deal with evil. An exterminator kills rats for the health of a human family, does he not? To get rid of disease and filth? It's a similar concept -- sacrifices must be made. These are criminals who wouldn't think twice about killing you or murdering innocent children. They deserve this treatment."

The apprentice shifted his attention back to Villain, who was laying down at his feet and shaking so hard with fear his muscles were aching. "I'm sorry," he said, dropping his voice low and quiet so Superhero couldn't hear. "I can beat a monster... but I can't kick a dog already on the ground. It's... not right." He licked his lips, reaching out a hand and pressing on the side of Villain's mouth like Superhero had earlier. A wordless request.

Villain got the hint, immediately relaxing his jaw to allow the apprentice to stick a finger between his teeth without biting him.

He was much gentler than Superhero had been, and it didn't look like he took pleasure in causing Villain to squirm and gag. It was mostly for show, to satisfy Superhero.

The apprentice didn't mess with Villain very long before standing up and stepping away from him, wrinkling his nose and wiping his finger on his pants to get rid of the saliva.

"Seems broken enough to me," he announced flatly, shrugging.

Villain could cry with relief. Thank you for the lenient punishment.

Superhero didn't look satisfied with the second apprentice’s performance, but if he wasn't, he didn't bring it up, choosing to lead the two apprentices out instead and leave Villain to his suffering.

Only when he was locked back up alone did Villain calm down and let himself rest, moaning in pain but alive and breathing.

-------------------------------------------------------

Villain had been blindfolded after the last beating. And the blindfold had not come off. For days. Had to be at least four days, he imagined.

It was driving him insane, being unable to see what was happening around him. But he could still HEAR everything. Every time the door of the room he was in creaked open, the sound of footsteps shuffling toward him -- those either belonging to the people coming to hand-feed him since he was without sight and unable to use his cuffed hands, or Superhero, who was occasionally accompanied by another apprentice or two.

Superhero always had the dreaded cane with him, and always tapped it on the floor twice to announce his arrival whenever he came to torture Villain. So that Villain would know the pain was about to start, since he was unable to see it coming with the blindfold on.

Villain hated the sound of that cane. Superhero had been steadily training him to kneel whenever he heard it. It wouldn't spare him the daily torture session, of course -- but Superhero made it very clear that the more obedient he was, the shorter the session would be and the less it hurt. It didn't take long at all for Villain to learn the pattern and adapt quickly to it.

Just like a good dog would, Villain sneered at himself today. He still held onto the rage from his first day down here, but it was quieter now, simmering just below the surface of his skin, eating him alive.

He had been left to his thoughts for hours, his sight still stripped away from him by the cursed piece of cloth tied around his head. His hands were always cuffed behind him which made it impossible for him to take it off himself. It was infuriating.

He was so deeply lost in thought he almost missed the sound of the door swinging open, the two distinct taps of wood on concrete that made him flinch violently.

He'd been lying on his side on the floor to relieve pressure on his abdomen, which was still heavily bruised from Superhero's last visit -- but now he hastily struggled to sit up and pull himself into a kneeling position, even as his body screamed in agony.

He knew it would be so much worse if he didn't do it. He was expected to be kneeling and ready for pain the instant Superhero stepped foot in his prison.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @writing-with-olive

@f1sh-bone

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Sidekick in distress (4)

Part 1 part 2 part 3

(this is going to turn whumpy, so...bones are broken and all that kind of stuff)

Detective stood behind a pillar, looking at the devastated parking. After years in this town, he knew better than saying “no one could survive that”. Then again, not a lot of people would have shrugged off what had caused that devastation either.

It’d taken a lot of wreckage to climb and a lot of swearing, but he’d finally found a torn cape. Supervillains loved their capes. He couldn’t imagine one letting it behind willingly. Whatever else went down, the fight had hurt both of them. There were no bodies around, though. No hero, no villain, no citizen, nothing.

Something was terribly wrong. He raised his head. There was no helicopter in the cloudy sky. No firefighter, no ambulance, no caped jerk in the air or on the ground. That part of the city wasn’t that remote. He barely dared to breathe while exploring the ruins. He kept throwing glances behind his back, as if some attack was imminent.

He gritted his teeth. He had to find something. Last time he’d checked, Supervillain had a lot of flaws, but they weren’t radioactive. It was fine. He’d made a quick stop to his office first. His gun was burning him through the holster. His fingers gently felt the cannon before he took another step.

He kept on exploring, trying to breathe as softly as possible. A large stone landed just in front of him, making him start. Detective looked up. It’d been the hat of an impressive mount of wreckage. The whole shivered, hesitated, then decided it was a good moment to collapse in his direction. He ran as fast as he could while the ground trembled under his feet. When it calmed down, he went back and jumped on the new piles. His eyes grew wide.

Emerging from the stones, there was a mangled hand. It had long nails, a ring around the fourth finger, both characteristics he knew for having been strangled by that hand not so long ago. It was still attached to an arm, but the rest was buried under tons of wreckage.

He turned around, his fist pressed on his mouth. After some deep breaths, he slipped on the hole. He pressed the wrist, making sure there was no pulse. There wasn’t. No livid fingers closed on his own. Detective shook his head, took a picture, climbed back, and sent it to Healer. Someone else had to have this evidence. The immediate answer was:

“Get out of here. Please.”

“I’m not planning to settle there,” he texted back. “Going back now.”

“Hey there.”

His head snapped up. His hands froze, clinching his phone.

“Hey,” he answered to Hero, who was walking towards him with a smile.

Oh, they’d bullshitted all right. Their walk was fast, with no limp or hesitation at all despite the treacherous ground. They barely had dust on them. Detective glanced at the traces they left on the stone, as if they were walking on sand.

“What happened?” he asked. “I wanted to park there.”

Hero laughed:

“You haven’t heard? I just fought a villain. I send a warning to all citizens to stay out of this place.”

“Ah, didn’t get the message, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad I found you.”

“I feel so much safer now that you’re here,” assured Detective, whose heart did his best to stay in his chest.

They smiled at each other. Hero held out their hand.

“I need your phone,” they said.

“Sure.”

Detective gave it to them, with the security code still on. Hero took it and slipped it into an inside breast pocket.

“Hey, I thought you needed this!”

“Yes. I’ll call Sidekick with yours, since they won’t answer for me. I think they’ve blocked my number.”

“The kid? They’re out of town?”

“They were kidnapped. Corrupted, if you wish. If you want my guess, I think they were convinced to run away by another consumed by jealousy. A pathetic insignificant man, wanting to make someone greater than him fall. I thought I recognized this voice.”

A heavy silence fell, during which Detective counted the beatings of his heart. He looked around. What for? He wasn’t fast enough to get away. Hero shook their head, looking at the frozen man with pity:

“I can nearly empathize, you know. You are, after all, a relic of the past. A rusty chariot in a world of limousines. That must be hard.”

“I’m surprised you recognize me. I thought we peons all looked the same to you.”

Hero chuckled:

“You, a father? Don’t make me laugh. Sidekick’s parents don’t have any money for a lawyer. Hell, I’m not even sure if they know that job exists. I gotta say, I never thought you’ve stooped that low.”

“At least I’m not throwing a tantrum because a kid doesn’t like me. What, is your job too hard for you? Do you need a fourteen year-old to hold your hand?”

Hero considered that thought for a moment, their gaze lingering:

“I did it for them, you piece of shit,” they said flatly. “For their own good. So you’re going to give me the code to your phone, and we’ll all have a little conversation to set things right.”

Detective opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no word. None. Not when he had a mangled hand in his head. Supervillain had handled him like a puppet, and Hero had squished them like a bug. There weren’t a lot of things left to say, even less to do.

So he stepped backward and aimed at them.

Hero looked at the gun, at the man’s face, and began to laugh. They stretched out their arms in an inviting gesture. They didn’t stop laughing as bullets flied, first around them, then straight at their heart.

“Did you get that out of your system?” they asked pleasantly.

Detective answered by a grin that made them pause. Putting the old gun back in the holster, he had the grim satisfaction of seeing Hero patting their heart, changing colors, realizing what he’d been aiming at. They took his phone out of their inside pocket, then theirs, trying to see if either could still work.

“It’s not that good,” he told them with a sad smile.

Hero looked at him, their face now devoid of all expression, crushing the remnants of his phone in their hand. Something turned very cold in Detective’s chest, but he didn’t run. It was no use, and besides, he didn’t want to.

“Well, at least this won’t take long,” he mumbled, hands in his pockets.

A wan smile appeared on Hero’s face. Their fist raised slowly. Detective instinctively leaned in that direction, brandishing his elbow as a shield. The hit didn’t come, but the ground suddenly shifted from his feet. While his head landed harshly, two hands grabbed his leg and squeezed and bent it in an impossible angle. Dazed by the fall, he didn’t even scream. The world went blurry under his eyes, hearing only the sound of his breathing while the other leg received the same treatment. Pain came, but muffled, gentler than it should have been. For a few seconds, all sensations were gone. When he could think again, it was to realize that Hero was on the other side and dragged him by the collar of his jacket.

Instinctively, he tried to fight back. He couldn’t even reach them, and an instant later he found himself just above the hole where he’d found Supervillain. They both exchanged a look, then Hero pushed. The crash was as unpleasant as possible. Detective curled himself as much as he could, biting his fist to muffle a scream. Gritting his teeth, grunting like a dying animal, he used all the strength of his arms and arranged himself in a sitting position, his broken legs in front of him, as straight as possible.

Hero was looking at him from above, but rather distractedly. When they talked at last, his voice was calm, slightly hesitant:

“I think…I think you helped Supervillain. You were desperate for money, and you accepted their offer, betraying me and the whole town. Sad, really.”

They smiled at Detective’s death glare:

“Don’t let it get to you. It’s just in case your corpse is found, but I don’t think so. Do you know how many explosives they use to get rid of old buildings? They told me, I was shocked. Of course, this might take a while before workers come. A couple of days, maybe a week. They wait for my approval, you see, and...well, I wanted to have mercy, but you had to piss me off.”

Detective stayed silent. He looked without a sound the aperture above him being covered by beams no normal person could have lifted on their own. The metal clanged loudly, as some gigantic nail shutting his coffin for good. After an eternity or two, it stopped. With a shaking hand, he took his flask from his jacket, drank the last sip of cocoa left, and threw it away. As adrenaline and shock wore off, pain came in waves through his legs, burning his shattered ankles.

Then, and only then, he let out the sob he’d been repressing.

*

(next part is coming soon, I promise)

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[villain-enthusiast]

TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hiii! Could you please write some hurt comfort hero and villain? Where it has a “who did this to you” vibes! Thanks! No pressure if you don’t want to!

"You look..." The villain's gaze travelled slowly up the hero, taking in the hard lines of them, the uncanny iciness that had replaced a once warm, familiar face. "Different."

"And you look like hell. Let's get you out of here."

Despite the fact that the hero had just blown the villain's chains to smithereens, the villain didn't move. They leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall of their cell, still staring.

The hero's fingers flexed agitated at their sides.

"I can - if you're hurt, I can help you stand. I don't - you're safe now."

It was like an act they didn't know how to play any more. The script was the same, but the tongue behind the words was a sharper thing. A whittled thing. Made hard and venomous with desperation. Like the world had taken an axe to everything that made the hero them and started hacking.

"Who did this to you?" the villain demanded.

"What?"

"You're all..." Their head lolled, as they tried to tilt it customarily to one side. Their broken fingers hurt too much to wiggle them effectively in the hero's direction, but they did their best. "Not you. All..."

"They hurt you," the hero said. Flat. Deadly.

The villain wet their cracked, swollen lips. Their voice came out raspy. "I heard screaming."

"Yeah." Something dark and protective simmered in the hero's eyes. It looked awfully a lot like 'they deserved it'. Like how the villain's eyes used to look, through a mirror darkly, until the pain scorched through everything cold and steely inside them.

"You killed people. You killed...you came for me."

"We need to go," the hero said, through gritted teeth. "We need to get you out of here. Come on." The hero ducked down, only to falter when their gruff tug immediately made the villain's whole world go fuzzy with hurting. The touch turned gentle as the villain flinched. The hero's hands floundered, like they no longer knew the language of caring, but still remembered that they wanted to try.

A stupid prickle of tears stung the villain's eyes.

"Who did this to you? Who-"

"-Please," the hero said. "Put your arms around me. You need to work with me here. Please."

The villain wrapped their aching arms around the hero's shoulders. The hero lifted them up, holding them oh so carefully. Being upright was still enough to make the villain's vision pop and then blacken.

When they regained consciousness, they were walking through a slaughter house. Blood everywhere. As if a hurricane given teeth and claws had ripped through the building.

"Did I do this?" the villain asked.

"No, love."

But that wasn't quite right.

"No, I mean - I was gone," the villain said. Their head felt so fuzzy with everything they had been given, but the sharp edges of the hero were so clear, if only they could find the words to paint the picture half as well, let the knowledge swirling inside them settle. "You were on your own. How long have you been trying to rescue me?"

"It's going to be alright, okay? I've got you. You're alright."

"Are you?"

"I'm not the one who's been tortured!" It came out a snap, and maybe the villain should have flinched after an eternity of raised voices and raised weapons, but they didn't.

"You don't do so well on your own," the villain said instead, softly. "You never have."

The hero's throat bobbed as they swallowed, convulsive, choking something down. "Don't."

The villain raised a hand, rubbing their thumb over the gaunt line of the hero's face.

The hero flinched back.

"It's going to be alright," the villain said. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."

"You -" The hero laughed then, a broken thing. They jerked their head to the side but it didn't hide the tears glinting in their eyes. "Maybe let's not focus on me right now. You were - what they did to you - they told that they - I should have got here faster."

"I'm sorry they used me against you."

"Don't."

"Tell me their names?"

"They're all dead."

"Tell me anyway."

"I killed them."

"I know, love. Tell me anyway."

The hero swore, but the villain could practically watch some life creep back into those icy eyes. Some horror. Some thing that wasn't a stranger. Their hero. The hero held them a little tighter, cradling them a little closer against their chest.

"Just - later. Let me get you help. You need help."

Well, the villain couldn't argue with that. Still. Their own body didn't feel half as perturbing as the way the hero's eyes iced over again, determined to see through the job, to not shatter no matter what they'd done to get to where they were. To get the villain back. To save them.

They tucked themselves closer to the hero's chest, to their heart - thumping proof of life, proof of hope, proof that maybe they hadn't entirely lost the thing they cared about most of all.

Who did this to you?

But the villain didn't really need to ask.

The answer was always their own name.

[avvail]

truth potion/serum 😌

“What’s that?” The hero murmurs uneasily under their breath, watching as the villain carefully inserts the needle into the soft flesh of their forearm, making them wince slightly. They watch it plunge into their vein, only daring to tug against the restraints once the needle is out of their skin.

The villain merely sends them a smile. “Nothing that’ll kill you.”

“Let me guess,” the hero growls. “A fate worse than death? Are you really trying this bullshit with me after all this time?”

“You don’t think our dynamic is a conventional one?”

The hero shuts their mouth, contemplating what the villain’s game was. If it was a sedative, it was a slow acting one, since they couldn’t feel any symptoms creeping up on them just yet. It was peculiar - they felt just fine.

“Let’s be honest,” the hero sniffs, and they don’t miss the way the villain almost laughs in amusement. They don’t know why that’s funny. “If our relationship was a conventional one, you would have killed me the moment you kidnapped me.”

The villain hums, their eyes roaming from their face languidly, kissing their teeth. The hero watches with a stubborn frown as they begin to circle around them, ever so slowly, and it makes them nervous.

They try not to shift.

“You’re right,” the villain sighs from behind them, and they want nothing more than to crane around to keep their eyes on them, but they can’t. Their heart races relentlessly in their chest, clenching their jaw. “Would you rather we adhere to the stereotypes?”

They roll their eyes. “If it means getting killed, then why would I?”

“You’re self righteous and selfless, aren’t you?” The villain teases. “Doesn’t that come with your job?”

“It doesn’t mean I’m eager to die. Dying means defeat, and I wouldn’t ever let you defeat me. You and I both know that.”

The villain stops beside them, a smile on their face that the hero doesn’t like. They send them a sharp glare for good measure, just because they can.

“So, is that a no?”

The hero wants to know where this is headed.

“No,” they confirmed. The villain stepped closer to them, their thumb gently brushing over a tender bruise on their temple. The finishing blow that had rendered them unconscious, making it easy for the villain to drag them here into their clutches. The hero forces back a wince, their eyes hard and determined. The villain loves that look.

“But you’re like that with others,” the villain comments, still stroking their temple. “Other villains, I mean. Especially Supervillain - the typical good versus bad. You know they’d kill you if they could. Stereotypes, after all.”

To hero resists the urge to lean keenly into that touch. “Because I know Supervillain is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Their eyes gleam mischievously. “You don’t think I’m dangerous?”

They shift. No dizziness yet, and their vision is completely clear, along with their mind. It’s not a sedative. What are they planning?

“No,” they respond after a moment, and the villain’s jaw ticks. It’s the only sign of irritation they’ve seen from them, but their tongue blurts more before they can stop themselves. “You’re dangerous in different ways.”

The irritation disappears, and the thumb slips down their cheek.

“Dangerous in different ways,” they muse, as if chewing the words that came out of their mouth. The hero’s heart is pounding against their ribcage, and they’re not quite sure why. The villain is incredibly close, feeling pinned down by their cold gaze alone.

“You’re easier to be around,” the hero speaks, trying not to stammer over their words. “I...” I hate you, don’t get me wrong. That’s what they want to say, but their throat closes up before they can. The villain’s thumb strokes the bottom of their jaw, and they shiver, as if encouraging them.

“Because I know you won’t kill me. When given the chance, you go easy on me.”

“You think I go easy on you?”

The hero gives them a disgruntled look. “You never torture me. Last time you kidnapped me, I slept in one of your guest rooms.”

“You were still a prisoner, or did you forget?” The villain scoffs. Of course they had been. The hero had spent all night trying to pick the lock, to smash the windows, but there was no point. They were a prisoner, but it never felt like they were in danger. Not in the same sense they felt when the supervillain almost incapacitated them. It was different.

“That’s not the point,” the hero snaps, unaware of their own rising irritation. They jerk their head away from the touch, feeling as though it was distracting them. The villain has this arrogant smirk on their lips, as if they know exactly what they’re doing. “If I ever kidnapped you, I wouldn’t stick you in a luxurious room. I wouldn’t let you sleep on a bed, I wouldn’t have you here and not torture you.”

The villain hums, their voice dropping low. “You like it when I treat you good?”

“Yes.” No. “I do.” It’s weird.

It takes a single, heart stopping beat for the hero to realise what they’d just said, their brows furrowing in confusion. They open their mouth to say something else, before their eyes flick down to the red pinprick from the needle in their skin. They release a shuddering breath.

“A truth serum,” they breathe. “That’s what you injected me with.”

The villain lets out a dark, amused chuckle. “I was waiting for you to figure it out.”

They lean back, creating a rift of air between them where the hero can still feel their warmth. It still feels hard to breathe, their wrists flexing under the restraints, and they grind their teeth hard together. This is dangerous. This was exactly what they were talking about.

“Are you tired, Hero?” The villain’s soft voice questions, enough to make the hero swallow uneasily. Their heart is racing now, so fast they feel like they’re going to throw up. They screw their eyes shut.

“Yes,” they say, feeling fingers under their jaw, tipping their head back. Their eyes open instinctively. The villain almost coos.

“And you love how easy it is with me,” the villain murmurs, admiring the embarrassed, shunted look in those cute eyes of theirs. “Love how I treat you.”

The hero’s fists clench. They desperately try to say no. “Yes.”

“And,” the villain purrs, their thumb brushing along their bottom lip with precious ease,” it’s dangerous because it’s so easy to shut your brain off. So dangerous to let your guard down around me. Easy to manipulate, as much as you wish that wasn’t true.”

The hero almost whines. “Yes.”

“Do you think I’m manipulating you?” They ask, their voice a hushed whisper, like a soft lull in their brain. The hero squirms, but they still can’t look away, not even daring to swallow. The villain leans in closer, their lips so close to theirs, and their voice turns dark. “Do you think it’s working?”

Who knew the hero’s weakness was simple acts of kindness. The villain had never thought going so easy on them would make them putty in their hands. But it did.

The hero bites down on the inside of their cheek, straining not to answer. The villain’s fingers curl around a lock of their hair, tucking it behind their ear tenderly. Too tenderly - the hero loves it.

“Better not fight it,” they hum. “It’ll hurt.”

“Yes,” the hero finally gasps, the throbbing pain in their head easing. They almost feel out of breath, trembling under each of their cunning touches.

The villain’s eyes gleam, leaning forward to kiss them. The hero had been so adamant they could never defeat them, and it almost makes them crackle. Maybe never in the stereotypical sense, but they had proved this was not a stereotypical rivalry; what was true defeat if they didn’t conquer them, after all?

@badthingshappenbingo

[ownlittleuniverse]

scenario #1 - the hero’s lover

—

“Love, why don’t you come to bed?”

The hero had been up for hours, way into the night racking their brain and trying desperately to find the villains identity. Their lover was becoming a bit worried with this obsession taking over their sleep.

“No, not until I figure out who the hell they are,” they snapped, their voice breaking.

Their lover could only sigh at their hero’s determination. It was their best trait and worst flaw.

“It’s not worth your health, my love,” their lover soothed.

Their lover walked over to the hero slumped over their desk, their whole body exuding exhaustion. They crouched down and took the hero’s face between their hands, caressing their cheeks. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their lover didn’t know if it was from their lack of sleep or from their tears. Their hero looked so tired.

“The villain is still out there, you’ll find them, okay?”

The hero only nodded, sniffing a bit. They wrapped their arms around their lovers neck. Their lover chuckled into their hero’s neck.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Their lover carried their exhausted hero with care, keeping them close to their body and listening to the hero’s even breathing. They were already out.

Their lover walked them over and placed them gently in their bed, kissing them on the forehead and wrapping them up in warm wool blankets. They climbed into the covers as the hero subconsciously pulled their lover close.

“Goodnight, love you,” the hero murmured into their lover's skin.

“Love you.”

They turned off the bedside light, pulled the blanket over both their bodies, wrapping their own over their dear hero’s exhausted one. The hero clung to them, and the villain could only smile into their hair.

They couldn’t help but admire their hero’s determination, and chuckle at their clear obliviousness. If they simply looked past the obvious, they would see that the person they cling to every night was the one they were after.

[writingpromptsworld]

Prompt #65

“You can’t be serious right? You want to fight me just because I took down your favorite bakery shop?!” The villain exclaimed in disbelief, their jaw wide open.

The hero didn’t falter, frowning with their eyebrows and lips. “It had the best banana bread! You can’t just do that and not expect me to come find your ass!” The hero said, defensively.

The villain couldn’t help but find it cute, as they let out a laugh. “How about I promise to buy you the best bakery shop in the world?”

The hero took a step forward. “It doesn’t matter. I want the one that you destroyed.”

“I didn’t know.” The villain sighed, feeling like a helpless parent that had thrown an old toy of their child away, and now the child wanted it back.

The hero jabbed their finger to the villain’s chest, squinting their eyes. “You pay the owner to build it back, and I won’t fight you.” They demanded, staring daggers into the villain’s eyes.

“Fine.” The villain mumbled, after thinking for a second.

“Fine?” The hero questioned, not being able to believe the villain’s words.

The villain nodded. “Yes, fine.”

“You promise?” The hero asked, smiling slightly, as their hand smoothed over the villain’s chest.

“Yes, I promise, hero.” The villain smiled reluctantly as well.

And they indeed did help the owner rebuild the shop, an even bigger one just to see that gleaming smile on the hero’s face when they suggested it.

Oh, and they also had many dates in the shop.

[chaotic-scraps]

The villain sprawled languid, more somber than usual, on the rooftop of a towering business building. Their head rested on the wall leading to the stairwell, legs dangling precariously over the edge. Staring down at the street with an intent that made hero's blood run cold.

"V-villain," Hero murmured with some measure of trepidation.

Villain leaned back, gazed at the hero from upside down, and smiled slow.

"Hero! How on earth did you find me?"

"I'll tell you i-if you come down," Hero said with a note of urgency.

"And why would I do that? I can hear you perfectly fine up here!"

"P-please come down."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me," the villain said, tapping them teasingly. "Scared of heights? Or think I have something up my sleeve?"

"I know you saw what the mayor said," Hero said. "I... I don't even know where to begin."

"So don't," Villain said. "After all, you agree with him, don't you? You just stood there and let him say everything. Of course you'll deny it and feign being neutral--"

"No, that's not--"

"Because that's so much less messy, isn't it?"

"I--"

"Listen, sit back, grab some popcorn, and I'll make a show of it just for you." They stood, one foot on the edge, one arm holding a pole as they dangled over the rooftop edge. "Your life will be sooo much better if I just--"

"VILLAIN!" Hero yelled. They climbed up and grabbed for their collar, but Villain dodged, spinning gracefully to the other side of the pole. Hero lost their balance, and Villain grabbed at their collar to steady them. "Careful, darling, we're high, high up. You don't want an accident, do you?"

"V-villain, please--"

"Aren't you afraid I'll push you?" Villain said. "Poor, sweet, trusting thing."

Hero sucked in a breath. Looked down below. That was a mistake.

"Villain, please, get down from here," they pleaded. "Please, I need you, please--"

Villain sneered. "You need me? What sentimental hogwash are you spewing now? You've never needed someone like me. Besides, you should worry more about yourself." Villain gripped their collar tightly, eyes wide with a hungry sort of malice. "Aren't you letting your guard down too much?"

With a yank, they swung Hero over the edge, toes barely holding the rooftop's edge.

Hero SCREAMED, panted, scrambling for as much purchase as possible.

"You're pathetic," Villain said. "Weak and trusting and SO easy to manipulate. A good little puppet for the mayor up until now."

"VILLAIN--" Hero screeched, voice cracking.

"But now I hold the strings," Villain said. "And it's time to make you dance."

They shoved Hero's feet off the edge. Kicking air. Crying. "Please please PLEASE--"

"Say it. Say I'm a monster, you COWARD. A filthy creature that needs to be eradicated--"

"V-villain--"

"An infestation on an otherwise fine society--"

"VILLAIN, NO--"

"You coward," Villain spat. "Say it to my face."

"Y-you're not."

"Liar. I'm a monster. Say it."

Tears fell from Hero's face.

"N-no. You're right. I'm a coward."

Silence.

Villain drew them back to the ledge.

"The m-mayor... Is the monster. I s-shouldn't have let it get this bad. We can't let him keep on like this."

There was that same somber look on the villain's face.

"I-I should have stood up to him," Hero sobbed. "I-if you... J-jump... It would end me." They hiccuped and buried their face in their hands. "I... I c-can't... I..."

"Hey, uh..." Villain gripped their shoulders. "Let's get down... Okay?"

"I'm a coward," Hero sobbed. "All this time... I just kept quiet... And for what? I almost lost you."

Villain patted their shoulder gently.

Hero looked up at them with watery eyes.

"I... I care about you. You're so used to being the villain you can't picture anything else."

"Heh." Villain shook their head. Put some distance between them, back turned. "You martyr. I just threatened your life."

"They're calling for your blood and disrespecting your life's work, and I stood by and let them. I betrayed you."

"It... Hurt," Villain said, hugging themselves. Head hung. "More than I care to admit."

"I'll make it right," Hero said. "Most don't see it, but your motives are good. I'll make them see it."

"I'm a villain, darling," Villain said with a sad smile. "My motives hardly matter."

Hero closed the distance and laid a gentle hand on their arm.

"They matter to me."

[sunnynwanda]

Remember

Part 2

Warnings: language, mentions of past falling out, slightly suggestive (kissing)

Today was officially the worst day ever.

Hero was sure of it. Not only were they forced to cut their day off short, but it was also raining cats and dogs, and their asshole of a nemesis decided to challenge them at the worst time possible - and if that wasn't enough, the little shit was late. Again.

Hero groans, leaning back against the brick chimney, no longer bothered by the raindrops hitting their pale skin. They wipe their eyes, staring up at the gloomy sky, the misty grey reminding the eyes of someone they used to know. Lucky for them, the thought gets interrupted by a voice that carries enough mockery to erase the chalky feeling from their chest.

"How do you manage to look more pathetic each time we meet?" Villain drawls, leaning their shoulder against the chimney.

"When will you learn to read the damn time, you little-" Hero cuts off, an irritated growl escaping their lips.

"Uh-uh," Villain chuckles at their inability to curse out loud, their lips curling into an attractive annoying smirk. "As long as it annoys you, I don't see why I would."

"I hate you," Hero mutters under their breath, earning a scoff from Villain.

"No, you don't," they muse, watching Hero with an unreadable expression in their deep grey eyes. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," Hero assures them, not quite believing their own words. Somehow, it matters more to convince Villain right now. They shake their head, getting up. "What did you want?"

Villain pauses, shrugging as they step away, keeping some distance between them. "I, um- wanted a fight?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" Hero quirks an eyebrow at them, but Villain avoids their gaze, and Hero's concern grows exponentially. "Villain, what's wrong?"

"I- can we move this inside?" They request, looking more sheepish than Hero has ever seen them. "Do you remember this place?" Villain adds, their voice sounding strained.

"Yes," Hero's response is barely audible through the loud drumming of the rain. They can feel their throat tightening, so they gesture for Villain to continue.

"I own the place now," Villain confesses, meeting Hero's gaze with their own. For a moment, Hero just stares at them, heart clenching at the flood of memories invading their mind like a rogue wave - unpredictable and devastating.

They don't respond; instead, they follow after Villain, careful not to trip on the familiar - now wet - stairs. Once they get inside, Villain leads them down a scarcely lit corridor until they reach the bathroom. Hero offers them a questioning look.

"Your clothes are drenched," Villain explains. "Take a shower, I'll lend you something to wear."

"The hell-" The door shuts in Hero's face, cutting their protest short. They sigh, glancing around the small bathroom with green tiled walls. It's still as cosy, and it's ripping their lungs out through their throat to be here again.

By the time they get out of the shower, the clothes are set out for them. Hero gets dressed, pausing to look at their reflection, clad in Villain's clothes. They run a hand through their hair and squeeze their eyes shut, willing themself not to think of the place they're in, the memories it holds and the way their heart clenches painfully in their chest at the thought of Villain choosing to buy their childhood home.

"Why?" Villain's head whips up at the question. They take Hero in, gulping before averting their eyes to the logs in the fireplace. "Why do you own this place?"

Because it was your home. Because it was the only home I knew. Because I couldn't bear to lose it the way I lost you. Because I...

"I wanted to," Villain opts for the safest answer, not daring to look at Hero, despite being aware of their presence in the room. The same room that held all of their happy moments gathered in four walls covered in flowers hand-painted by Hero's mom.

"That's not an answer," Hero argues, their brows furrowing. They feel conflicted yet relieved, and it's a strange combination.

"I know," Villain breathes out, burying their face in their hands. "I loved this place." I love you.

"I remember," Hero nods, coming to sit next to Villain's hunched form on the couch. "We loved having you here." They place a hand on Villain's back, rubbing it soothingly.

"Your mom sold it because of..." Villain mutters, but Hero doesn't allow them to complete the sentence, circling their wrists with cold fingers and pulling their hands away from their face.

"No," they state firmly, taking hold of Villain's chin and tilting it up. "Look at me," they demand. "She didn't do it because of you. She did it for me. I didn't want to keep living here. Not after-"

"I betrayed you," Villain nods shortly, their hands clenching in their lap. "I remember."

"Not after I lost my best friend," Hero corrects, letting go of their face. "Do you remember that as well?"

"Being your best friend?" Hero hums in confirmation, making bile rise in Villain's throat. "Of course I do."

"Anything else you might remember?" Hero questions, their tone too bitter even for their own taste. "Like how we spent every waking moment together, how you were the only person I could trust, how I shared my best and worst with you?"

"Everything," Villain lets out a heavy sigh, their beautiful grey eyes watering. How do I ever tell you? "I remember everything."

Hero stares at them, unable to stomach the disheartened expression weighing Villain's features. They know Villain deserves their cruelty but can't bring themself to press on.

"Well, then you should also remember how I've always managed to whoop your ass in a fight," Hero grins, pushing Villain back against the cushions in an attempt to ease the tension.

"Hey!" Villain protests, but just as they are about to get up, a pillow hits them square in the head. "Hero!"

"What?" Hero chuckles, flinging another pillow that hits Villain in the face. "You don't remember that small detail, you little shit?" They hiss, maintaining a playfull tone.

"Maybe not," Villain sneers, catching another weapon of Hero's flying in their direction. They look at it before glancing back up at Hero, their lips stretching into a wicked smirk. "But I do remember you're ticklish!"

"No, no, no!" Hero all but yelps the second Villain's fingers touch their sides. They try to wiggle away but end up falling to the floor with a strained groan mixed in with uncontrollable laughter.

Villain grins, sliding off the couch and landing on their knees over Hero, still tickling them as they hover above their nemesis. Though the victory doesn't last long because Hero manages to compose themself and grab Villain's wrists.

"I hate you," they murmur, staring up at Villain with a bated breath. They can hear their own heartbeat thundering in their temples like a wild bird in a cage of thorns.

"No, you don't," Villain mutters, glancing at Hero's lips before meeting their eyes again, barely restrained desire flaring in their eyes.

"No, I don't," Hero agrees, leaning up and capturing Villain's lips in an intense kiss, only to break it a moment later as they start to process what the actual fuck they are doing. "I-"

"Shut up," Villain growls, crushing their lips back on Hero's, one of their hands coming up to cup Hero's jaw.

"I'm not forgiving you just because you got the house back," they mutter, gripping the back of Villain's neck to keep them in place.

"I know," Villain drags their lips over Hero's jawline, leaving a trail of burning kisses in their wake.

Hero guides Villain's lips back to theirs, whispering between kisses. "And this doesn't mean we're friends."

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby," Villain lets out a soft whimper, earning a low chuckle from their enemy.

"Baby, huh?" Hero grins, feeling Villain melt in their arms.

"Fuck, I love the living lights out of you," Villain mutters, thinking out loud unfiltered. Once the realisation hits, their eyes widen in anticipation of just about anything in response.

Hero, however, does not hesitate, pulling Villain down on top of them and catching their lips in a deep kiss.

Part 2

Hi lovelies!

Based on the lovely request right here! Though it got a little out of hand :) I had been thinking about childhood friends turned enemies turned lovers for some time and this just evolved into that trope.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

xo Sunny

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy@alltimelowing@lateuplight@surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney

@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood

@whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444 @m4iloblu3

[chaotic-orphan]

Concussed villain gets kidnapped?

Villain showed up on Hero’s doorstep, heaving in breaths as they slammed their fist on the door. Their arm was ridiculously heavy, and it took everything in them to throw it mercilessly against the wooden door. The effects were meagre knocks that Villain prayed Hero would hear.

If Hero was even home.

What if they were working tonight? Fuck, why didn’t Villain think of that? Their head was pounding so they rested their forehead against the cool wood, letting out a shaky, shallow breath, trying not to anger the fire in their ribs. Blood continued to trickle from their hairline down over their eyes and dripping onto their cheeks.

That wasn’t good.

They heard footsteps behind the door and Villain almost broke down there and then, relief flooding them like a tsunami of feeling, washing away everything that was keeping Villain upright. Tears poured down their cheeks at the thought of safety, hero looking after them… their hero. They could tell them about Superhero’s plans.

They could tell them… Villain put a hand against the door and pushed themselves backwards. They would’ve fallen if not for the arm that snaked around their waist. Villain blinked dumbly and glanced down. Arm around—?

Before they cry out or scream in warning a hand clamped over their mouth and Villain was ripped away from the door and into the shadows. Villain thrashed, struggling in their attacker’s grip, all their screams and cries muffled to nothing but silent pleas.

The door opened and Villain’s struggles renewed but Hero wouldn’t be able to see them from here. Hero wouldn’t know they were even there!

“Hello?” Hero asked into the darkness and Villain whimpered against the hands holding them in an iron cage. Villain threw their body forward, back, trying to dislodge their attackers arms but they didn’t budge even a little.

“If you want Hero to continue to draw breath, Villain, you’ll come quietly.”

Villain froze at the voice. That was… Superhero… the reason why Villain was in this state in the first place. Villain’s struggles renewed as Hero stepped out of their house. If they could even sense something was amiss so close to them then they would investigate. Hero would have to investigate, right? And Hero was in danger too!

Villain had to warn them, they had to!

“Hello?” Hero asked, a note of agitation creeping into their voice.

I’m here! Villain wanted to scream. Hero please! I’m right here.

A pinch in their neck and Villain’s fruitless struggles seized, their blood running cold. They flinched as cold liquid was pushed into their neck. No… no, no, no, no. “That’s it, Villain,” Superhero whispered. “Don’t fight it.”

The hazy world blurred even more and Villain fell back against Superhero’s chest, the fight leaving them almost instantly. What did Superhero drug them with?

Their eyelids shut and Villain forced them back open, with a gargantuan effort. The last thing they saw was Hero frown and close the door before their entire world faded to black in the arms of their enemy.

[automeris-io-moth]

Reunion

That morning Hero felt particularly tired. 

Perhaps Villain had noticed early when greeting them at breakfast, such was the reason the servants were fetched to help them shower, help them dress and eat, fed by hand as if not humiliated enough by then, trapped by the fact they were indeed unable to lift the cutlery. 

Perhaps it had been Villain’s doing. Perhaps it had been the tea, perhaps it had been something else. 

Later, Hero was taken to the main hall of the former gubernatorial palace right in the heart of the city, where a wood and gold throne laid. Hero had once, long ago, made a joke about Villain compensating for something with such a cartoonish display of power, but then they had no energy to obnoxiously repeat it, as they did every time they entered the place. Mockery was one of the few things Hero had left after all. 

Yet, that day they could barely keep their head upright, a foggy sense of nausea crepting up their throat, a heavy weight pushing them down from the top of their head kept them glued to Villain that morning, head laying on the other's shoulder as Hero laid across their lap, their enemy's hands stroked up and down their arms and back, warming them from the coldness of the room. 

"Let them in," Villain's voice boomed across the hall, the echo remaining a second longer. 

The old wooden doors creaked open, uneven steps entering the room, as if being rushed, and Hero hid their head from the sharp noise. 

"What do you think I should do, love?” Villain asked the Hero this time, pressing their lips against their hair  “Four intruders wandering around, trying to enter our home to steal god knows what.” 

And Hero tried, tried to twist their head to look at the people standing before them, distinguishing them on their knees, half aware of the number mentioned, half aware of their factions, of what they wore. 

Half aware that they knew them. 

“I told you, Leader,” one said, a whisper too sharp to fulfil its purpose of being discreet “they sold us out.” 

“Shut up, Teammate, what about that?” The called answered, face straightening and, for a moment, Hero could swear they made eye contact “What are you looking to prove with this display, Villain?” 

Villain huffed a laugh, turning Hero’s head back to them  “Come on Leader, do you really think I put this show just for you?” 

They had, Hero thought, Villain usually preferred if they weren’t seen. Just for their eyes, they had once said, when they were, as that day, too out of their mind to talk back. 

“What did you do to them?” 

“I would never hurt them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” they answered, hands pulling them ever so close to their chest, curling if only lightly to embrace them “I’m not like you.” 

“We never…” 

“Yes you have,” they answered “I’ve seen every scar in their body, and I’m responsible for only one. Don’t lie to my face please.” 

“They knew what they were doing! It was for the greater good,” Teammate answered this time, sweat dripping from their forehead to the blood, taking the dirt with it. 

“Such a funny concept is the greater good. I can assure you it holds no meaning to me, there is nothing greater than keeping what's mine close and unblemished, and you have scarred it, sadly.”

With a hand on their hip, and the other on their neck, Villain twisted Hero’s head slightly to the right, where their team knelt, eyes glazed, barely open enough to discern their shadows, they could see one turn away from their unintentional stare. 

“So what would a fitting punishment be,” they asked in the air, looking down at Hero “I accept suggestions, my light.”

_

Masterlist

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hero Kidnaps Villain Part 19

Warnings: nasty panic attack, mind conditioning/brainwashing, forced obedience training, mentions of torture

But he really needed to rest after today to recover both mentally and physically, so he allowed himself a break. As long as he didn't fully fall asleep, he'd be fine.

-------------------------------------------------------

Villain instantly snapped to alertness when he heard the distinct sound of something hitting wood -- exactly twice, like someone knocking on a door.

Crap. He fell asleep, didn't he? And Superhero was about to come in and find him not yet properly kneeling for the brutal daily training session and he'd be so furious and--

He distantly noted that the sound was slightly different this time -- that it didn't match with Superhero's cane tapping the floor twice to announce his presence -- but that didn't matter. Two taps meant kneel and surrender and obey, no matter how the message was given to him. Surely this was a test to make sure the training held up even if the cane itself wasn't present.

The cat he'd fallen asleep next to was gone. Of course it had only been a dream; he was back at Agency, trapped in a living nightmare…

Villain's body was already in motion, acting on autopilot as he instinctively scrambled to sit up on the bed and kneel with head bowed submissively like the good dog he was.

But the chain attached the cuff on his one wrist to the headboard was too short for him to kneel properly, and that's when he truly began to panic, the familiar terror seizing him in its vise-like grip. Because this meant he physically couldn't follow his conditioning, not with how he was currently restrained to the bed. He'd fail the test and it wasn't even his fault -- surely now he'd be killed for not being good enough...

"Nonononono--" Villain's breaths came fast and shallow as he struggled against the leather-padded cuff on his wrist, straining against it with everything he had until he was sure he'd dislocate the joint or rip his hand clean off in his desperate attempt to kneel like he was supposed to. But the door to his prison was already creaking open -- it was too late to find a solution; Superhero was arriving to beat Villain and torture him for failing the impossible task he'd been given today.

But Villain could at least try his best. So he tucked his legs under him and sat on them in an attempt at showing a proper kneel, hunching over himself with head bowed to his chest and facing the opening door like he was trained, awaiting his punishment.

His left arm was stretched to the side, the chain attached to his wrist pulled tight with no slack as he awkwardly struggled to hold his position and not collapse out of it from exhaustion or pain at the stress and strain of staying like this for awhile. He was still physically weak from his time at Agency, and the cuff on his wrist didn't help his situation at all when it made it so he couldn't bring himself into a full, perfect kneeling state.

Villain knew Superhero never punished him for crying, and it was all he had left to cope and release the stress, so he broke down sobbing the instant footsteps entered the bedroom he was trapped in. At least he was still allowed to cry. It was such a human reflex in him he didn't think he could manage it if he wasn’t allowed to even cry when the pain became unbearable or he'd reached his breaking point.

“B-Be obedient. Listen to instructions. Do not resist. Do not fight back," he recited robotically, trembling and crying inconsolably.

"I'm sorry I can't kneel for you -- the cuff is preventing me from doing so. I swear I'm trying to, though! I really am!" He practically wailed, begging for his captor to believe him, not daring to look up at the person coming over to him. He kept his head bowed, ready for the inevitable punishment.

Well, he was never truly ready for the punishment, he just… accepted that it was coming and braced for impact.

"Villain... what are you doing?"

Villain flinched. That... wasn't the voice he was expecting. The groggy, disorienting effect of sleep was slowly wearing off, and then he remembered whose house he was in. Hero. It was real. He wasn't at Agency.

Geez, what was wrong with him? The sound he'd heard wasn't Superhero's cane tapping the floor of his cell -- it was literally just Hero knocking politely on the bedroom door before coming in, and it had shattered him in an instant.

His face reddened with embarrassment, mixed with the slight hope that maybe this was still what Hero wanted, as his new captor? Maybe he was still doing it right by kneeling when she came in? It would certainly make him feel less stupid for his panicked reaction.

After all, Hero hadn't given him any new rules yet. So it should be safe to assume that his old rules given to him by Superhero were still valid... right?

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @writing-with-olive

@f1sh-bone @basica11ywhumped

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Superpowers: a recap

You know, I often tend to skip superpowers under the rug when I write my snippets- which is kind of a problem in a Hero/Villain setting.

So this is a recap to help me remember the possibilities, in case it can help anyone else:

LIST OF POWERS

Classical set

Super strength

Super endurance

Super speed

Telekinesis

Teleportation

Forcefields

Laser eyes (classical because of Superman, but I still think this is bonkers)

Immune to superpowers/elements/illness/etc

Flight

Healing (themself or others)

Can speak to animals/plants

Hypnotism

Immortality

Wish-granting

Astral projection

Miscellaneous

Can steal power from others (forever or it’s temporary)

Has non-human animal anatomy (reptilian scales, horns, produces poison, etc)

Can break into parts and reassemble

Can make clone(s) of themself

Immune to gravity (the fall doesn’t kill you, can jump as high as you like, can crawl on walls, etc)

Super instinct (can sense when something’s wrong, when someone is lying)

Can control fibers/clothes

Can create portals to anywhere else

Control of one single type of object (doors, trains, cars, paper, etc)

Control anything made by humans

Music powers

Can force everyone to dance

Can control voices/can take voices away

Can control volume of any sound

Charm people when they play an instrument/sing

Can summon music whenever they like

They get an upgrade (super strength, etc) every time there’s music

Elemental/Nature powers

Can control fire/ashes

Can control electricity

Can control water/ice

Can control plasma

Can control air/wind/gazes

Can control earth/magma

Can control metal

Can control light/shadows/colors

Can walk on water/wind/lava/rainbows

Can breathe underwater/in space

Can burrow into earth

Can control temperature

Can control the weather

Control of life forms

Can control humans

Can control beasts

Can control plants

Can control...mushrooms, I guess ?

Can control viruses and bacteria

Can control blood

Everything they touch die

Everything they touch come back to life

Can accelerate/slow down aging

=> is the life form conscious while under control ? Can they fight back? Do they have to be okay with it?

Sense powers

(Reminder: human senses are hearing, vision, touch, taste, smell, vestibular)

Better senses (better sight, better hearing, etc)

X-ray vision

Can see every place they like or eavesdrop everywhere

Can manipulate the senses of others (can heighten them or cancel them)

Can inflict pain

Emotions

Their sheer presence induces an emotion (fear, love, etc)

Can force to feel an emotion/heighten or dull emotions

Can project their own emotions into others

Empathy (they feel the emotions of others)

Shapeshifter

Can reduce/aggrandize their size

Can seem much older or younger

Intangibility

Invisibility

Strechability

Can take the form of another thing/person

Can take the form of any human

Can take the form of anything (animal/plant/object/liquid/gas/etc)

Reverse Shapeshifter: can transform others into an animal/stone/plant/anything

Mindpower

telepathy

illusions

possession/mind control

can mess with memory

can mess with dreams

Time powers

Can time travel (future/past)

Can froze time

Can predict the future/see the past

Oh now that's just cheating

Reality wrapper

Luck

Everything they create becomes real

Can choose any superpower they want according to the situation

GENERAL QUESTIONS

Is the character okay with their power ?

they hate it it’s a curse to them

they wish it were different (stronger, another power altogether, etc)

they don’t mind

they really enjoy it

it’s their whole identity

Etc.

If they hate it, is it because:

it hurts

it could hurt someone/something else

it’s useless/ it’s not offensive

it goes against their personality

people hate it too

it makes people treating them as a tool

Can they control it?

they’re a walking disaster

using it makes them sick

perfect control, natural or learned

they don’t even need to think about it

etc

How powerful it is?

(Ex control of fire: can barely light a match versus can set in fire the whole country)

Characters with weak powers my beloveds. It's about them fighting when they know they will lose, putting everything they have in the fight, keeping their head high when people sneer at them. It's about them enjoying their power without having it to be useful, or forcing them to be creative and smart about/around it.

Overpowered characters my beloveds. It's not about them winning the fight because the answer is obvious, it's about them dealing with too much power in a fragile world, the gap between them and the others, how it impacts their relationships, their morality - never hesitate to make a character like this. It can be terrifying, it can be hilarious, it can be great. No trope is bad, it all depends on how it's used.

What is the source of their power ?

failed experiment?

successful experiment?

got them from a supernatural being?

got them from their family?

got them from a magical object?

When did they get it ?

when born?

during childhood ? Teen years ?

grown-up ?

Was it expected or not?

Is getting this power a one time thing or do they need to renew it ?

(via sacrifice, offering, a special food/medicine, a good/bad deed, etc)

Can they give it to someone else?

Can it go away/fade?

Does it grow stronger/weaker with age?

Is it affected by the health of the character ?

(Is the power weaker when the character is sick, or is it stronger as a defense measure ? Does it become unpredictable?)

Does it hurt using it/not using it?

(Because it takes too much on the body/because it forces to repress an important part of the self)

Does the power change their personality in a good/bad way?

(Does it corrupt them, does it force them to see the world in a new light, etc)

Can their power combine with someone else’s ?

Do they have a weakness/something that cancels their abilities?

Do they have special needs because of it ?

(Do they need glasses, headphones, medicine, a special diet, etc)

Are they immune to their own power or do they take damage ?

(Ex : is your character able to control fire is fireproof or not?)

How much do they rely on it?

they use them for everything

they use them often

they could do without

it’s barely an afterthought to them

they never use it

etc

How do they use it ?

Raising their hand

With their eyes

With some object

They don’t have to do anything

Etc

How does this power is perceived by the others?

This makes them a god

This makes them a star

This makes them totally mundane

This makes them look really stupid

This makes them a nuisance

This makes them someone to be killed at all costs

Etc.

About the suit

Is that for protection ?

Is it an uniform ?

Is it here for the vibe ?

Does it strengthen their abilities?

Does it have gadgets ?

How (im)practical is it ?

[villain-enthusiast]

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do dom villain x dom hero (maybe a sprinkle of nsfw- not explicit though!) I love your blog and youre so good at writing!

OH YEAHHH. 😝

-

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

The villain arched a brow, casually leaning their shoulder into the doorframe of the entrance they were blocking. “No.”

The hero stormed up to the villain, jabbing a finger into their chest. “Don’t think you’re some kind of martyr,” they hissed between bared teeth. “I have a job to do.”

The villain blinked slowly at them, a show of smug, egotistical elegance. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Don’t question my competence,” the hero snapped. “I’ve done my research on these people, on these murderers. I know exactly who’s in this building and I know exactly what to do with them.”

The villain sucked on their teeth, as if they found the hero’s rage amusing. As if this was all a fucking joke. As if the mafia group past this entrance wasn’t getting further away with every passing second—

“You can yell at me all you want about competence and research.” The villain’s dark stare glittered with something incomprehensible. “You won’t get past me.”

Fuck this. “I’m not going to tell you again.” The hero maintained eye contact, sending the hellfire of their emotions into their glare. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

The villain leaned forward suddenly, bearing down so they were eye-level with the hero. The tip of their tongue wet their bottom lip, and the hero’s gaze—so, so traitorously—flicked down to follow the movement.

Teasing. The villain was teasing them.

Fuck. This.

”Then move me.” A rugged smirk tugged at the villain’s mouth, begging a challenge. “I’m not doing anything except blocking the doorway, sweetheart.”

The hero scowled, eyes flicking up and down the villain, assessing their body; that incredibly toned, impossibly muscular body—

“Fine,” the hero spat, flinging their arms out to grab the villain and shove them away—

The villain moved lightning fast.

Before the hero could even fully process what happened, they found themselves pressed against the brick doorframe, trapped between the wall and the hard planes of the villain’s body. Even their wrists had been caught and pinned above their head with one hand.

The hero sputtered.

“Hmm,” the villain mused, their breath tickling the hero’s cheek. “Well that didn’t last long, did it?”

”Fuck you,” the hero snarled, struggling against the villain, pulling at their incapacitated arms. They were left panting and shaking hair out of their eyes. “Fuck. You.”

The villain chuckled lowly. “You don’t have to tell me twice, love.”

The hero felt their cheeks burn. “Shut up and let me go.” Shit, their target was probably already gone by now.

The villain fake-pouted. “Can’t you spare a few minutes here with me? You know I’ll make every second count.” Again, their eyes sparkled with that unintelligible emotion, and again, their stupid tongue ran over their lips, wetting them.

God, it made the hero want to do unspeakable things. Things they would obviously never, ever do—

Target. Mafia. Job. The hero’s mind flailed for footing, footing that was quickly disappearing as the press of the villain’s muscles against their own became more and more apparent.

”Fuck, hero,” the villain breathed, as if they too were losing all semblance of control. Their head dropped into the crook of the hero’s neck, lips just grazing their collarbone.

The hero inhaled sharply, biting down on the inside of their cheek.

Target. Mafia. Job.

The villain’s breath was hot against the bare skin of their shoulder, scattering their common sense. Too close. Everything was too close.

“Hero,” the villain said again, and the way the name rolled from their mouth was almost like a plea, or maybe a prayer.

Whatever it was, it was the hero’s undoing.

“Two minutes,” the hero gasped out. “Only two—,”

Once the villain’s lips made contact, two minutes quickly became the rest of the night.

[writing-to-survive]

#236

"I appreciate you taking time out of your day to come."

"You kidnapped me."