villain-enthusiast

[villain-enthusiast]

mmm…enjoy a VERY long study in hero whump 🙈

tw: blood, depictions of violence, near death experience (kinda)

-

The hero could feel their body deteriorate with every step they took down the ship’s hallway.

Their sidekick, who had the difficult job of rescuing the rebels taken prisoner by the supervillain, had been caught in an altercation with several henchmen. The hero had arrived just in time to make sure their sidekick escaped mostly unscathed, but they weren’t so lucky.

Several of their ribs felt cracked, if not completely fractured. Their right arm was definitely broken, limp and throbbing at their side. Blood pulsed from a concerningly deep laceration in their side.

Pain seized them so suddenly that they had to stop and lean against the wall for support, vision dipping sharply. “Jesus fucking Christ,” they muttered.

The sooner they got the fuck out, the better.

They stumbled through the door of what seemed to be the engine room, confirmed a second later by the glowing yellow reactor in the center of the room.

If you take out the reactor, you take out the whole ship. The leader’s words echoed through the hero’s like an omen as they reached into their bag and began attaching small bombs to the reactor’s glass casing.

They wiped their matted hair from their face. Why was it so hard to breathe? They forced themselves to inhale and exhale, even as they felt blood dribble down their leg, sweat slide between their shoulder blades.

They furrowed their brow. Only a few more bombs.

Click. Click. Their right arm throbbed hot.

The last bomb in their hand clattered to the floor.

A hand twisted in the hero’s hair, slamming them into the glass before they were yanked backwards onto their knees.

Their eyes met the dark, simmering glare of the supervillain.

Fuck.

They scrabbled for the gun at their holster, but the supervillain slammed a boot down on their hand, pinning it to the floor and busting the communication gadget on their wrist. The hero gritted their teeth. There was now no way to know if the bombs’ timer had gone off, or if anyone of their team had received its signal.

The supervillain reached down and slid the gun from the hero’s belt, cocking the safety back and pressing the barrel against their temple. The hero felt their heart speed up wildly, hammering against their aching ribs.

The supervillain crouched down next to them, hand tightening in their hair, making them wince. “Where’s your little friend?” The supervillain’s breath was sickeningly hot on the hero’s face.

Sidekick. They had to be talking about their sidekick. “Fuck you,” the hero panted, adrenaline thick in their veins.

The supervillain’s boot dug into their hand in warning, and they gasped out, feeling the delicate bones of their fingers groan under the weight. “I know they’re out there somewhere saving my precious little prisoners. Just tell me where they are, and I’ll let you go.”

Like hell I will. The hero gathered everything they had and spit in the supervillain’s face.

The supervillain raised a brow, eyes flashing dangerously, gleefully, as they slowly wiped the saliva from their face. “That’s how you wanna play it, huh?”

“Fuck. You,” the hero bit out.

The supervillain whipped them with the butt of the gun so violently that they slammed onto their back, head colliding with the metal floor and sending a burst of stars across their vision.

They groaned between clenched teeth, feeling blood trickle from a fresh cut on their temple.

The supervillain trained the firearm at their face, and the sight of the barrel made them sickly aware of the fact that they were probably going to die here.

God, the hero hoped—no, prayed—the sidekick was no longer aboard the ship, that they were not pulling off some last minute heroics like they always do, checking for stragglers or looking for the hero because they weren’t answering their gadget.

“You really think you can protect them?” The supervillain cocked their head, all malice and venom. “When I find them, I will make them scream so loud you’ll hear them in the afterlife.”

The hero inhaled, shaky and clipped. Maybe the bombs would detonate soon and this would all just be over. “Go to hell.”

The gun fired off, and the hero jolted before they felt the heat of the impact next to their head, smelled singed hair of where the laser burned through. Fear settled dully into their bones, like lead in their blood.

”I could make you scream for them,” the supervillain mused, a horrid grin splitting their lips. Their eyes traveled down the hero’s battered body and paused on their swollen, twisted right arm.

The hero felt their stomach lurch violently. Nausea seized them hard and fast. No. No, they couldn’t—

“Let’s see if they come running for you, shall we?” The supervillain chuckled mirthlessly, and the hero barely processed the boot lifting before it came down, hard onto their broken arm.

Something snapped.

The scream that left the hero was beyond anything they’ve ever heard before, guttural and raw and desperate.

Pain. All-encompassing, nerve-shattering pain was all they could process. They felt their consciousness immediately dissociate from their body, barely hanging on, barely there. Their vision blurred, dizzying and hot and god they were just in so much pain—

Distantly, they heard someone call their name.

No.

The supervillain’s hand was back in their hair, and they were yanked up to their knees again, the sudden, sharp movement nearly making them vomit. Panicked footsteps thundered outside of the room.

“Hero?! Where are you? Hero!!”

No. Leave.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the supervillain sneered in their ear before gun returned to the hero’s temple, right as the sidekick came into view.

“Oh my god,” they breathed, eyes flicking frantically between the hero to the supervillain. Their lip curled. “You fucker.”

The hero whimpered as the supervillain dug the gun into their skin uncomfortably, somehow cognizant of the way the sidekick’s expression twisted with the hellfire of emotions—ever the fierce kid the hero had known for so long.

The hero blinked rapidly, head pounding, and tried to convey everything they couldn’t say through their pained gaze.

Get out of here. Please. Please leave. Go.

But their sidekick was having none of that. They trained their gun at the supervillain, even as their hand shook. “Let them go.”

“You only have two options here, love,” the supervillain said mildly, their amusement clear. “You put down your weapon and surrender, and I’ll let them go.” They pulled on the hero’s hair, and they whined lowly, unable to stifle it. “Or, I kill the both of you.”

The sidekick swallowed hard. “Hero,” they choked, distraught, hoarse. “I—fuck, I don’t—,”

Somewhere in the back of the hero’s mind, they think they should have better prepared the sidekick for a situation like this. “Sidekick, go,”they rasped, each syllable a wheezing, dragging effort.

The sidekick locked eyes with them, and the hero’s heart crumbled at the resolve in their unwavering stare. They weren’t going to leave, not one chance. They’d do anything to guarantee the hero’s safety. Anything. And the hero knew that more than anyone.

Their cheeks felt wet. When did they start crying?

“I’m sorry, hero,” their sidekick said as they laid down their weapon, empty hands lifting in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

Above the hero, the supervillain laughed, loud and abrasive. “How sweet,” they mocked. “Self-sacrifices have always been my favorite show.” They shoved the hero to the ground and walked over to the sidekick, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

“No,” the hero tried, but all that came out was a croak, the letters caught in their throat.

The last thing they saw was the supervillain knocking their sidekick out before they lost consciousness.

[villain-enthusiast]

mmm…enjoy a VERY long study in hero whump 🙈

tw: blood, depictions of violence, near death experience (kinda)

-

The hero could feel their body deteriorate with every step they took down the ship’s hallway.

Their sidekick, who had the difficult job of rescuing the rebels taken prisoner by the supervillain, had been caught in an altercation with several henchmen. The hero had arrived just in time to make sure their sidekick escaped mostly unscathed, but they weren’t so lucky.

Several of their ribs felt cracked, if not completely fractured. Their right arm was definitely broken, limp and throbbing at their side. Blood pulsed from a concerningly deep laceration in their side.

Pain seized them so suddenly that they had to stop and lean against the wall for support, vision dipping sharply. “Jesus fucking Christ,” they muttered.

The sooner they got the fuck out, the better.

They stumbled through the door of what seemed to be the engine room, confirmed a second later by the glowing yellow reactor in the center of the room.

If you take out the reactor, you take out the whole ship. The leader’s words echoed through the hero’s like an omen as they reached into their bag and began attaching small bombs to the reactor’s glass casing.

They wiped their matted hair from their face. Why was it so hard to breathe? They forced themselves to inhale and exhale, even as they felt blood dribble down their leg, sweat slide between their shoulder blades.

They furrowed their brow. Only a few more bombs.

Click. Click. Their right arm throbbed hot.

The last bomb in their hand clattered to the floor.

A hand twisted in the hero’s hair, slamming them into the glass before they were yanked backwards onto their knees.

Their eyes met the dark, simmering glare of the supervillain.

Fuck.

They scrabbled for the gun at their holster, but the supervillain slammed a boot down on their hand, pinning it to the floor and busting the communication gadget on their wrist. The hero gritted their teeth. There was now no way to know if the bombs’ timer had gone off, or if anyone of their team had received its signal.

The supervillain reached down and slid the gun from the hero’s belt, cocking the safety back and pressing the barrel against their temple. The hero felt their heart speed up wildly, hammering against their aching ribs.

The supervillain crouched down next to them, hand tightening in their hair, making them wince. “Where’s your little friend?” The supervillain’s breath was sickeningly hot on the hero’s face.

Sidekick. They had to be talking about their sidekick. “Fuck you,” the hero panted, adrenaline thick in their veins.

The supervillain’s boot dug into their hand in warning, and they gasped out, feeling the delicate bones of their fingers groan under the weight. “I know they’re out there somewhere saving my precious little prisoners. Just tell me where they are, and I’ll let you go.”

Like hell I will. The hero gathered everything they had and spit in the supervillain’s face.

The supervillain raised a brow, eyes flashing dangerously, gleefully, as they slowly wiped the saliva from their face. “That’s how you wanna play it, huh?”

“Fuck. You,” the hero bit out.

The supervillain whipped them with the butt of the gun so violently that they slammed onto their back, head colliding with the metal floor and sending a burst of stars across their vision.

They groaned between clenched teeth, feeling blood trickle from a fresh cut on their temple.

The supervillain trained the firearm at their face, and the sight of the barrel made them sickly aware of the fact that they were probably going to die here.

God, the hero hoped—no, prayed—the sidekick was no longer aboard the ship, that they were not pulling off some last minute heroics like they always do, checking for stragglers or looking for the hero because they weren’t answering their gadget.

“You really think you can protect them?” The supervillain cocked their head, all malice and venom. “When I find them, I will make them scream so loud you’ll hear them in the afterlife.”

The hero inhaled, shaky and clipped. Maybe the bombs would detonate soon and this would all just be over. “Go to hell.”

The gun fired off, and the hero jolted before they felt the heat of the impact next to their head, smelled singed hair of where the laser burned through. Fear settled dully into their bones, like lead in their blood.

”I could make you scream for them,” the supervillain mused, a horrid grin splitting their lips. Their eyes traveled down the hero’s battered body and paused on their swollen, twisted right arm.

The hero felt their stomach lurch violently. Nausea seized them hard and fast. No. No, they couldn’t—

“Let’s see if they come running for you, shall we?” The supervillain chuckled mirthlessly, and the hero barely processed the boot lifting before it came down, hard onto their broken arm.

Something snapped.

The scream that left the hero was beyond anything they’ve ever heard before, guttural and raw and desperate.

Pain. All-encompassing, nerve-shattering pain was all they could process. They felt their consciousness immediately dissociate from their body, barely hanging on, barely there. Their vision blurred, dizzying and hot and god they were just in so much pain—

Distantly, they heard someone call their name.

No.

The supervillain’s hand was back in their hair, and they were yanked up to their knees again, the sudden, sharp movement nearly making them vomit. Panicked footsteps thundered outside of the room.

“Hero?! Where are you? Hero!!”

No. Leave.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the supervillain sneered in their ear before gun returned to the hero’s temple, right as the sidekick came into view.

“Oh my god,” they breathed, eyes flicking frantically between the hero to the supervillain. Their lip curled. “You fucker.”

The hero whimpered as the supervillain dug the gun into their skin uncomfortably, somehow cognizant of the way the sidekick’s expression twisted with the hellfire of emotions—ever the fierce kid the hero had known for so long.

The hero blinked rapidly, head pounding, and tried to convey everything they couldn’t say through their pained gaze.

Get out of here. Please. Please leave. Go.

But their sidekick was having none of that. They trained their gun at the supervillain, even as their hand shook. “Let them go.”

“You only have two options here, love,” the supervillain said mildly, their amusement clear. “You put down your weapon and surrender, and I’ll let them go.” They pulled on the hero’s hair, and they whined lowly, unable to stifle it. “Or, I kill the both of you.”

The sidekick swallowed hard. “Hero,” they choked, distraught, hoarse. “I—fuck, I don’t—,”

Somewhere in the back of the hero’s mind, they think they should have better prepared the sidekick for a situation like this. “Sidekick, go,”they rasped, each syllable a wheezing, dragging effort.

The sidekick locked eyes with them, and the hero’s heart crumbled at the resolve in their unwavering stare. They weren’t going to leave, not one chance. They’d do anything to guarantee the hero’s safety. Anything. And the hero knew that more than anyone.

Their cheeks felt wet. When did they start crying?

“I’m sorry, hero,” their sidekick said as they laid down their weapon, empty hands lifting in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

Above the hero, the supervillain laughed, loud and abrasive. “How sweet,” they mocked. “Self-sacrifices have always been my favorite show.” They shoved the hero to the ground and walked over to the sidekick, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

“No,” the hero tried, but all that came out was a croak, the letters caught in their throat.

The last thing they saw was the supervillain knocking their sidekick out before they lost consciousness.

[villain-enthusiast]

Hey!! I really enjoyed the other vampire prompt you did. If you get the opportunity I would love to see another vampire one, maybe having to do with the villain needing to feed off the hunter? But totally up to you and what you feel like writing. Hope you have a great day <3

yummyyy 🩸

tw: blood, depictions of violence, possessive themes

-

“You’re new.”

The hero whipped around to nothing, eyes scouring the line of trees and bushes surrounding the clearing. Their grip tightened on the leather handle of their dagger.

“Didn’t know you were keeping track,” the hero shot back, to the emptiness that they knew was far from empty.

A low chuckle echoed through the air. “I do my best to make sure there are no repeats."

Goosebumps skittered down the hero's skin as they swallowed hard, heart slamming against their rib cage.

Admittedly, they were new to the job. Prior, the hero had only heard stories of the vampires plaguing the forest, how their superhuman speed and strength allowed them to get in and out of houses without being noticed, but not before they got their hands—or rather, their teeth—on what was a growing number of victims.

Hunters in the hero's village were few because of the lack of proper training and the high fatality rate. But after they hero had found their family three months ago slumped against the wall of their home, pale and drained dry from their throats, they’d vowed to kill a vampire—or die trying.

Their feet scuffed into the grass beneath them as fresh adrenaline shot through them. “Show yourself, you fucking coward—,”

The hero barely registered the monochrome blur before they were suddenly seized from behind and held flush against a cold, hard body. They wrenched their arm around, stabbing their knife back in blind desperation, but an iron grip caught their wrist and deftly swiped the weapon from their hand.

The hero's stomach twisted violently. They kept their eyes trained towards the ground, as if not seeing the creature restraining them would make them go away.

“Mm, hello,” the villain said, lips brushing against the shell of the hero's ear. “You smell delicious.”

The hero shuddered, feeling their hands tremble at their sides.

“Let’s get a good look at you.” The villain pressed the point of the knife into the underside of the hero's chin, forcing them to tilt their head up and towards the molten gold eyes of their assailant.

Despite the nausea rolling through them, the hero couldn’t help but realize that the villain looked…human. Almost. Their features were humanoid, like their sleek black hair, strong facial structure, and porcelain skin. But there was something devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful about them that screamed danger and promised death—like the violent waves of a storm at sea, or a intensely feral wildfire.

The hero bit down hard on their lip. Maybe they were delirious with fear.

The villain cocked their head, snake-like and predatory. “You’re very young. How old are you?”

The hero, despite themselves, almost laughed. “Why does my age concern you?”

The villain shrugged. “I would feel a tiny bit bad that I have to kill a kid. If you are one.”

Oh. The laughter bubbling in the hero's throat immediately vanished. “I’m 22.”

“Oh, so you are new.” The villain grinned, flashing teeth. The hero's focus zoned in on the sharp canines decorating each side of the villain's mouth—canines that could very well be the ones that killed their family. Hot rage flashed through them, twisting their features into a fierce scowl.

The villain's smile only grew. The tip of the tongue flicked over their fangs, eyes flashing with a mocking, hungry tease.

Emphasis on the hungry.

Terror quickly replaced the hero's anger. They clenched their jaw. “Are you gonna kill me?”

The villain's brows raised, amused. “To be fair, you were gonna kill me. I mean, not that you could’ve, but it’s adorable that you thought it was possible.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well,” the villain mused. They traced the dagger along the hero's jaw and up their cheek, watching as they squirmed. “I thought about it, but you’re a lot prettier than those old men they send after me.” They smirked. “And I have to say, I love a pretty present.”

The hero opened their mouth to say something—to plea, perhaps—but the villain suddenly dug the blade into their skin, making them squeak in surprise at the sting.

A streak of blood trickled down their face and down the side of their neck, like an arrow drawing itself straight towards a target’s bullseye. The hero was painfully aware of how the villain's eyes tracked the line of red, how their pupils dilated and their nostrils flared like a wild beast.

The villain leaned in and the hero couldn’t stop themselves from whimpering as they braced for teeth, for a flood of paralyzing venom and all-encompassing agony. But the villain instead ran their tongue up the stripe of blood, the sensation hot and greedy and everything unnatural.

“You taste divine,” the villain murmured, their tone uncomfortably reverent.

The hero squeezed their eyes shut, overwhelmed.“Please let me go,” they said hoarsely, knowing the attempt was futile.

“Oh, love.” The villain sighed, almost as if they were apologetic. “You know I can’t do that. But I’m not going to kill you, at least not yet.”

What? The hero’s eyes fluttered open. “Why?”

“You’re too precious to drink in one go.” The villain’s head tilted once more in that assessing, possessive way. “So I’m going to take you with me. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Dread curled up in the pit of the hero’s gut, dark and unrelenting. “I’d rather you just kill me now,” they whispered, once again knowing their plea was as useless as a shot in their dark.

The villain pressed their lips to the hero’s forehead in a fallacy of comfort, the gesture too claiming, too controlling for any room for relief.

“I’ll take good care of you.” The vampire’s arm around the hero’s waist tightened uncomfortably, like an iron seal on a deal. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

The hero let the tears fall before they were whisked away, trees and moonlight blurring together in the villain’s grasp.

[villain-enthusiast]

Hey!! I really enjoyed the other vampire prompt you did. If you get the opportunity I would love to see another vampire one, maybe having to do with the villain needing to feed off the hunter? But totally up to you and what you feel like writing. Hope you have a great day <3

yummyyy 🩸

tw: blood, depictions of violence, possessive themes

-

“You’re new.”

The hero whipped around to nothing, eyes scouring the line of trees and bushes surrounding the clearing. Their grip tightened on the leather handle of their dagger.

“Didn’t know you were keeping track,” the hero shot back, to the emptiness that they knew was far from empty.

A low chuckle echoed through the air. “I do my best to make sure there are no repeats."

Goosebumps skittered down the hero's skin as they swallowed hard, heart slamming against their rib cage.

Admittedly, they were new to the job. Prior, the hero had only heard stories of the vampires plaguing the forest, how their superhuman speed and strength allowed them to get in and out of houses without being noticed, but not before they got their hands—or rather, their teeth—on what was a growing number of victims.

Hunters in the hero's village were few because of the lack of proper training and the high fatality rate. But after they hero had found their family three months ago slumped against the wall of their home, pale and drained dry from their throats, they’d vowed to kill a vampire—or die trying.

Their feet scuffed into the grass beneath them as fresh adrenaline shot through them. “Show yourself, you fucking coward—,”

The hero barely registered the monochrome blur before they were suddenly seized from behind and held flush against a cold, hard body. They wrenched their arm around, stabbing their knife back in blind desperation, but an iron grip caught their wrist and deftly swiped the weapon from their hand.

The hero's stomach twisted violently. They kept their eyes trained towards the ground, as if not seeing the creature restraining them would make them go away.

“Mm, hello,” the villain said, lips brushing against the shell of the hero's ear. “You smell delicious.”

The hero shuddered, feeling their hands tremble at their sides.

“Let’s get a good look at you.” The villain pressed the point of the knife into the underside of the hero's chin, forcing them to tilt their head up and towards the molten gold eyes of their assailant.

Despite the nausea rolling through them, the hero couldn’t help but realize that the villain looked…human. Almost. Their features were humanoid, like their sleek black hair, strong facial structure, and porcelain skin. But there was something devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful about them that screamed danger and promised death—like the violent waves of a storm at sea, or a intensely feral wildfire.

The hero bit down hard on their lip. Maybe they were delirious with fear.

The villain cocked their head, snake-like and predatory. “You’re very young. How old are you?”

The hero, despite themselves, almost laughed. “Why does my age concern you?”

The villain shrugged. “I would feel a tiny bit bad that I have to kill a kid. If you are one.”

Oh. The laughter bubbling in the hero's throat immediately vanished. “I’m 22.”

“Oh, so you are new.” The villain grinned, flashing teeth. The hero's focus zoned in on the sharp canines decorating each side of the villain's mouth—canines that could very well be the ones that killed their family. Hot rage flashed through them, twisting their features into a fierce scowl.

The villain's smile only grew. The tip of the tongue flicked over their fangs, eyes flashing with a mocking, hungry tease.

Emphasis on the hungry.

Terror quickly replaced the hero's anger. They clenched their jaw. “Are you gonna kill me?”

The villain's brows raised, amused. “To be fair, you were gonna kill me. I mean, not that you could’ve, but it’s adorable that you thought it was possible.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well,” the villain mused. They traced the dagger along the hero's jaw and up their cheek, watching as they squirmed. “I thought about it, but you’re a lot prettier than those old men they send after me.” They smirked. “And I have to say, I love a pretty present.”

The hero opened their mouth to say something—to plea, perhaps—but the villain suddenly dug the blade into their skin, making them squeak in surprise at the sting.

A streak of blood trickled down their face and down the side of their neck, like an arrow drawing itself straight towards a target’s bullseye. The hero was painfully aware of how the villain's eyes tracked the line of red, how their pupils dilated and their nostrils flared like a wild beast.

The villain leaned in and the hero couldn’t stop themselves from whimpering as they braced for teeth, for a flood of paralyzing venom and all-encompassing agony. But the villain instead ran their tongue up the stripe of blood, the sensation hot and greedy and everything unnatural.

“You taste divine,” the villain murmured, their tone uncomfortably reverent.

The hero squeezed their eyes shut, overwhelmed.“Please let me go,” they said hoarsely, knowing the attempt was futile.

“Oh, love.” The villain sighed, almost as if they were apologetic. “You know I can’t do that. But I’m not going to kill you, at least not yet.”

What? The hero’s eyes fluttered open. “Why?”

“You’re too precious to drink in one go.” The villain’s head tilted once more in that assessing, possessive way. “So I’m going to take you with me. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Dread curled up in the pit of the hero’s gut, dark and unrelenting. “I’d rather you just kill me now,” they whispered, once again knowing their plea was as useless as a shot in their dark.

The villain pressed their lips to the hero’s forehead in a fallacy of comfort, the gesture too claiming, too controlling for any room for relief.

“I’ll take good care of you.” The vampire’s arm around the hero’s waist tightened uncomfortably, like an iron seal on a deal. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

The hero let the tears fall before they were whisked away, trees and moonlight blurring together in the villain’s grasp.

[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.

[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.

[villain-enthusiast]

Just wanted to say that your writing is amazing! I especially love the hurt/comfort. <3

this was from sooo long ago i’m so sorry to the anon who wrote this 😭 but thank you so much for your kind words 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[villain-enthusiast]

HI!!! I litterally just got tumblr yesterday so im not 100% sure on how all of it works but i just wanted to say that I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND IDEAS SO MUCH!!!! I CANT GET ENOUGH!!!! I'm also a writer and im seriously just FLABBERGASTED UR SO GOOD!!! TYSMMMMM :)

awww THANK YOU! 🥹🥹 i’m so so happy that u enjoy my writing!! so grateful for your support ❤️

[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.

[villain-enthusiast]

Could you write a hurt hero and guilty caretaker villain fic where they fight and villain accidentally hurts hero too much and feels bad after?

tw: injury, blood/gore

The hero wheezed, the sound too breathless for the villain to be completely sure that they only sliced their abdomen.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The villain’s hand tightened over the hilt of their knife, which was coated in a little too much blood. They struggled to muster the courage to turn around and make sure their opponent was not as injured as they sounded.

Please be okay. Tackle me, throw me down while my back is turned, please—

Thud.

The villain whipped around to see the hero collapsed on the ground, a hand pressed desperately to their side as red seeped from between their fingers.

“Shit, Hero.” The villain scrambled over to them, falling to their knees to examine the injury and immediately felt their heart drop.

Stab wound. Deep, deep stab wound. Definitely internal organ damage, likely fatal without immediate treatment.

The villain dragged a hand through their hair frantically as they felt panic rise in their throat. How could have they been so sloppy? Just a cut, it was just supposed to have been a cut—

“Villain,” the hero suddenly rasped, cutting through their spiraling thoughts. “Why the hell are you still here?”

The villain blinked. “Wh-what?”

A rattling cough shook the hero’s frame and they spat blood to the side, much to the villain’s dismay. “You won, you got me. Kill me already, goddamnit.” The hero’s glassy gaze flicked to the dagger still in the villain’s tight grasp. “Just…make it fast.”

Realization jolted through the villain and they threw the knife to the side like it had been set on fire. “No. No no no, Hero. I don’t, I didn’t…” they trailed off, struggling for the right words as guilt clawed up their throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this, I’ve never even killed anyone before—,”

“Woah, hey.” The hero’s brow furrowed, although the villain couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or how their sworn nemesis was literally apologizing to them. Maybe it was both. “Since when did you get sentimental?”

The villain barely processed the hero’s light-hearted tease. They felt like their head was underwater, their lungs choked up in their own remorse. “I—,” they choked out, “I don’t know. Oh God.” Their hands hovered over the hero’s stomach, frozen, unsure of what to do or where to go.

The hero groaned minutely, clearly trying to stifle the sound. “Y’know,” they panted, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it would be so much better if you could just send me to heaven now.” Their eyes shuttered. “Whether you meant to stab me or not, I’m in a lot of pain, Villain.”

The villain felt their gut twist violently. They could just end it now, put the hero out of their misery—but the villain knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, and yet, they couldn’t leave the hero to bleed out in pain…

They shook their head. God, they were wasting time. Life was seeping out of the hero with every passing second, and they still didn’t know what to do—

They jolted. My house. I can get them to my house a few blocks from here.

Stupid stupid stupid. How did they not think of it before? The villain sprung into action, tearing off a long strip of their shirt. “Hero,” they said—shouted, rather to keep their opponent from losing consciousness, “I’m going to wrap your wound, okay?”

The hero huffed a sound that might’ve been a chuckle if they weren’t so weak. “That’s totally going to save me. A thin piece of your cotton shirt.”

“I’m trying to help you!” the villain retorted as they tied the cloth strip around the hero’s abdomen, wincing when they grunted in pain. “I’m taking you to my house. It’s five minutes from here, less if I run. Can you just,” they swallowed around the lump in their throat, “try to not die for a little longer?”

The hero smirked sloppily. “No promises,” they joked, but their gaze darkened. “You better run fast.”

The villain gathered the hero up in their arms as gently as they could and began to sprint down the alleyway. “You’re going to live, Hero. You have to live.” They clutched the hero a little closer to their chest. “I need you.”

The last three words tumbled out of the villain’s mouth before they could stop themselves. But from the way they felt the hero jolt in their arms, at they way their eyes widened slightly, the villain knew that their confession was giving the hero the strength to fight everything in them to stay awake.

And for the villain, that was all they needed to do exactly what the hero needed them to do: run fast.

[villain-enthusiast]

tw: very toxic/possessive relationship and behavior, captivity

“Would it hurt you to smile a little more?” the villain mused, eyes trained on the reflection of the hero in the vanity’s mirror.

“Hard to do when there’s nothing to smile about,” the hero muttered, shifting uncomfortably in their seat. The villain had given them—or rather forced them into—an intentionally revealing outfit for the night.

The hero hated the villain’s parties. They hated the false luxury of it, the wealthy spectacles, the self-conceited conversations of people whose money was bought through blood. They wouldn’t let themselves get swept away in any of it—not when they knew of the people suffering beyond the villain’s gilded walls.

But if they wanted to live, if they were ever going to have a chance of making it out of this hellhole, they had to tolerate it. They had to pretend they liked it all—the sheer shirts, fine wine, the penetrative gaze of the clamoring guests…

“I’ve given you so much to smile about.” The villain tilted their head in a similar way a snake does to analyze its prey. “Silk clothes, a warm bed, good food.” A corner of their lips tilted up seductively before they added, “My love.”

A shudder ran down the hero’s spine and they looked away from the mirror, determined to avoid the villain’s possessive expression.

Fast as lighting, the villain’s hand shot out and grabbed the hero’s chin, forcing their face back towards their reflection. They squeezed their eyes shut. They didn’t want to look at themselves anymore, didn’t want to see how vulnerable they were, laid bare for the the hunger in the villain’s eyes—

“Darling,” the villain purred, the word dripping with venom. “By now you should know what the rules are.”

“We’re not at the party yet,” the hero retaliated. “I don’t need to follow any rules—,”

The villain’s fingers dug painfully into their jaw and the hero inhaled sharply, cracking their eyes back open.

They could do nothing as the villain tilted their head back ever so slightly, just enough to keep their eyes locked on the mirror while the villain leaned down to press feather-light kisses to their exposed throat.

Helpless. Just the way the villain liked it. The hero’s eyes burned with the embarrassment of it all.

“And here I’d thought we were past your disobedient stages,” the villain murmured against the hero’s skin, sending goosebumps skittering down their jugular. “Do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

I don’t belong to anyone, the hero wanted to snap, but they held their tongue, knowing better than to answer with such defiance.

The hand holding the hero’s chin trailed down to curl around their neck, the villain’s thumb fitting right over the hero’s racing pulse. Their free hand brushed slyly over the hero’s bare abdomen, tracing sensitive circles up and down their torso.

It was too much. Too overwhelming. The hero couldn’t stop the whimper that clawed up their throat, and at the way the villain’s eyes flashed with lust, the hero wanted to risk looking away all over again.

“I want you to say it, Hero.” The villain tilted their head in that predatory way again. “Who do you belong to?”

The hero swallowed. Their skin flushed with heat, even with the sparse amount of clothing they had on. They knew what game the villain was playing at, knew what part they had to act, but they still hesitated.

I don’t belong to anyone, I don’t belong to anyone…

The villain’s grasp on their throat tightened in warning, enough for the hero’s breath to hitch. “Say it,” they whispered, deadly.

“You,” the hero bit out. “I belong to you.” Their eyes shuttered as they fought the instinct to close their eyes and pretend that the shame gnawing through them was just as fake as their words.

The villain smirked. “Good.” They let go of the hero’s throat and ruffled their hair in a mocking show of playfulness, as if whatever just happened was all a joke. “I’ll be back in five to take you to the guests.” They made their way to the exit and paused at the doorway. “Oh, and do me a favor and smile a bit more when we get down there. You are mine, after all.”

Only when the door slammed shut behind the villain did the hero finally close their eyes, silent tears tracking down their cheeks as the villain’s words echoed incessantly through their head.

[villain-enthusiast]

heyy i don’t have something specific in mind but can you please right something about a morally grey villain and a civilian. make it romantic and flirty and stuffff

Civilian was going to die.

The explosion from the bomb had obliterated half the bank within fractions of a second. The blast was far enough from their office that they weren't directly affected, but evacuating the actively crumbling building could easily kill them.

Rubble rained down as they desperately ran down the dusty hallway to the stairwell. Why did they have to be three stories up? Would they even get all the way down before the place collapsed?

Boom!

Civilian barely had time to react before they were thrown off their feet from the force of the blast that had detonated from the room beside them. Their back smacked into the opposite wall, pain and shock rippling through them as they hit the ground, rendering them helpless.

They couldn't move. This was it. They were going to—

"Oh, sweetheart."

Civilian jerked their head up to see someone standing over them, not a single speck of dust visible on their impeccable black clothes. Not the uniform of a co-worker or a rescue team member, Civilian realized with dismay.

The person crouched down in front of them, head tilted. "I could've sworn I got everyone out in time. I guess you're just a little elusive, huh?" They smirked and ruffled Civilian's hair, wildly playful considering the life-or-death situation they were in right now.

Wait.

The realization struck them like a brick to the head. “You set the bomb off,” they wheezed. “You’re Villain.”

Villain gave them a mock salute. “Nice to meet you too."

The floor wobbled dangerously and Civilian squeaked in fear, trying and failing to prop themselves up. "Please...please don't kill me," they blurted.

"Wow, who do you think I am?" Villain placed a hand on their chest in mock disbelief. "Eh, besides, you're too cute to murder. Or leave for dead,” Villain added as the building groaned, swaying on its foundations.

Civilian flushed, not sure if they should be flattered or absolutely terrified that their whole fucking workplace was about to collapse and that this bastard was trying to flirt with them—

Villain scooped Civilian up without warning, hoisting them into a bridal carry. They yelped in surprise as a block of cement crashed down onto the exact spot where they were laying just seconds ago.

“See?” Villain grinned at Civilian, bearing in close. “Too cute to leave behind.” Their face was near enough for Civilian’s eyes to flick down to their lips. Their grin widened in acknowledgment.

Villain turned abruptly and ran down the hallway towards the stairs, throwing the door open. Three flights down stared back, seeming infinitely long, too long.

But Villain was still smiling like they were gonna make it out of the bank on time. They looked down at Civilian, who had unconsciously fisted their hands into the lapels of Villain’s jacket.

“Yeah, just like that,” Villain said, winking at Civilian.

Civilian blinked, their mind flailing for footing. Just like what—

“Hold tight!” Villain whooped, and instead of booking it down the steps, they jumped onto the railing and slid down, handless.

Holy fucking shit. Civilian squeezed their eyes shut and held on so tight onto Villain’s jacket, stomach lurching. If the bombs didn’t take them out, then this would definitely—

They felt the Villain jump onto solid ground before they could even finish their thought. Oh.

“Aren’t you a scaredy-cat,” Villain teased, that shit-eating, infuriatingly charming grin back on their face. “Ever been on a roller coaster before?”

“No, I’ve never had fun in my life before, actually,” Civilian snapped back sarcastically.

“Hm,” Villain made their way out of the stairwell, casually walking towards the entrance as if the bank wasn’t crumbling around them. “Well, they’ve been saying amusement park dates are all the rage. Maybe this is my sign to take you out.”

Civilian fumbled for a response. Why was this criminal so good at rendering them speechless?

“You’re not saying no…” Villain murmured, exiting the building seconds before it promptly collapsed, throwing onlookers into chaos and allowing them to blend in with the crowd. The timing was almost comedic.

They slipped into an empty alley, Civilian still in their arms.

“I’m not putting you down until you say yes,” Villain urged, eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Civilian, despite themselves, rolled their eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be a bad guy? What happened to ‘Now I take you back to my spooky dark lair and lock you up and torture you until Hero comes and I fight them to the death’?”

Villain smiled, but it was warmer, more genuine this time. “I guess I prefer it when people look at my lips and clearly want to kiss me instead of looking at me like I’m a monster.”

Civilian paused, dissecting the layers of that statement before—damn them—glancing again at Villain’s perfectly kissable mouth.

Villain ran their tongue over their bottom lip, clearly toying with Civilian, but fuck, it was working.

It was the nearing wail of police sirens that shook them out of their trance. They groaned, stupefied at how they almost fell for the person who just blew up their workplace. “Please put me down.”

“And here I thought I almost had you.” Villain sighed and set Civilian down on the ground. “Unfortunately, the authorities tend to annoy me a bit, so this is where I take my leave. It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” They bowed to Civilian and began to make their way down the alleyway.

Fuck, the way the nickname made Civilian’s stomach flutter. Fuck fuck fuck— “Disneyland, this Friday, 10 AM,” they blurted.

Villain stopped in their tracks, and although they didn’t turn around. Civilian could feel that stupid little smirk on their face.

“See you then.” Then they disappeared around the corner.

As it turns out, roller coasters really weren’t so bad when you have someone doing it with you.

[villain-enthusiast]

Hey, hope you're doing well today--hope life is a little easier to bear for you :)

aww, thank you! i appreciate the check-in 🫶 things are okay, i have a lot of stuff going on to wrap up my school year. i’ll be back to writing in about two to three weeks!! again, thank you all for sticking around :) i’ll be popping in and out though so please feel free to keep sending in little messages. they make my day!!

[villain-enthusiast]

glad I didn't unfollow - thank you for being a human with compassionate braincells :) sometimes we have terrible days and brain-stuff glitches out. very few people on the internet nowadays take the time to rectify the glitches so it was refreshing to see that you did, and thank you for that :)

(and you still have such cool writing :)

aw thank you! that’s super sweet of you to say. i truly believe that kindness is one of the most important things ever, and failing to be kind is a sign that something is wrong. there are things i can say about that day and why it was difficult for me, but there’s no reason to use that as an excuse for my actions.

i think the best way for me to progress is understanding that i struggled to uphold one of my biggest values in a time of hardship, and that im going to do my hardest to not have that happen again :)

[villain-enthusiast]

hi all! sorry i've been gone, needed to take a break and do some reflecting on the interactions i've had on the internet, especially in terms of how i want to improve them.

i've updated all my masterlists so that they are no longer superscript and hopefully easier to access for people who were struggling. i never want this blog to feel unsafe for you guys to provide constructive criticism or any other concerns or comments you have. i hope i can get back to writing soon! much apologies and love for anyone who was hurt or stunned by what i said a few weeks ago. trying to do better!

[villain-enthusiast]

Hi Hello, It's me again. (I'm pretty sure you don't remember nor know me.. but...yeah...)

I read your part 2 snippet(about the Villain finding the hero dying) and I was like soo happy that I went wild!!!!!!

I LOVE IT!! SERIOUSLY!!! LIKE LITERALLY I'M JUST REALLY OBSESSED WITH IT!!!!! AAAAHHH!! (Yup.. just screaming in happiness)

Well anyways, just know that I'm always rooting for you.

Have a nice day!! (You don't have to reply to this. I just wanted to tell you!)

IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! it was super fun to write so i'm happy u requested :)) thank u for all the love 🤍

[villain-enthusiast]

Hi Hello!! Would you please continue the snippet of villain finding hero dying? A lot of whump and caretaking would be great! (By the way.. just wanted to say this...I love your work!!)

so glad u enjoyed! hope this is also to your liking ☺️

part one

.

The hero came to with a start.

They shifted, groaning as their stiff muscles and joints ached. But they noticed that their body was comfortable, sinking into a soft mattress and swaddled in thick blankets—

Wait, what?

They blinked several times as fragmented memories flashed through their head, The blinding pain of the stab wound. Their broken comms. Blood, too much blood. They were going to die without help…

The villain. The villain finding them in the alleyway, gathering them up in their arms—

“You’re awake.”

The hero jolted, head whipping to the bedside, where the villain had apparently stood up from the chair behind them.

How long had they been waiting there?

They moved to prop themselves up, but the villain’s hands were immediately on their shoulders, gently urging them back down onto the stupidly comfortable bed.

“Don’t move too much. You’ll break the stitches,” the villain warned. They pulled the blanket covering the hero’s torso away to examine the bandages wrapped around their side.

It was then the hero realized that they had been scrubbed clean and given a new pair of sweatpants, every cut and scratch from their recent altercation carefully dressed.

Their eyes met the villain’s in silent questioning.

You did all this for me?

“I swear I didn’t look,” the villain blurted suddenly. “When I was bathing and changing you. I didn’t—.” They cut themselves off awkwardly, cheeks a little pink.

Oh, that’s not… Despite themselves, the hero smiled, or what they could attempt as a smile. Their jaw was incredibly sore from being socked twice in one day.

They opened their mouth to speak, to tell the villain that it was fine and that what they really meant was thank you—

The villain shushed them. “You have some bruising on your neck. It’ll hurt to talk. You should just rest.”

The hero scowled at them. “I—,” they attempted, and immediately regretted their choice as their swollen throat flared up.

The villain gave them a "told you so" look, and the hero leveled another glare at them.

It suddenly occurred to the hero how helpless they were. Can't move, can't speak. If the villain wanted to kill them, now would be the chance. Luring them into a false sense of security, giving them one last taste of comfort before—

“I just saved your fucking life. Stop looking at me like that.”

The hero frowned. Like what? they mouthed.

“Like you think I’m gonna kill you or something. I can be a half-decent person sometimes, y’know," the villain said. Their expression softened. “I’m not a monster.”

The villain's gaze flickered with something the hero couldn't quite place as they watched each other in comfortable silence. It was an understanding, in that moment, that the villain was not going to kill them, and that they had meant everything they said and more.

I couldn’t just leave you to die in that alleyway.

The villain sighed and turned to leave the room. Panic shot through the hero—they needed to say something to the villain, damn their throat—and before they could think twice about it, they reached out and took the villain’s hand in their own. Rough calluses from what was likely decades of training scraped against their palm.

The villain stared at them, but they didn’t pull away. Their fingers wrapped gently around the hero’s, cautious. Expectant.

“Thank you,” the hero croaked, “for saving me.”

The villain was silent for several heartbeats, watching the hero with those dark—so beautifully dark—eyes.

They took a breath, as if readying themselves for whatever they were going to say. “You mean too much to me," they finally said, voice low. "I'm not ready to let you go." Their hand lingered on the hero's, as if to seal their statement, to make a promise and keep it.

Then they released their hold, and the hero wished they could tell them to stay—that they wanted them to stay—but the villain was already closing the door behind them, and fatigue overtook them before they could process anything else.

When the hero awoke the next morning, the villain was nowhere to be found. But in the chair by their bedside, they found a fresh set of clothes, a cup of water, and a note:

Be back soon. - Villain

And though their jaw still ached, the hero smiled, fully and wholly.