#The Rookie and the Supervillain

[chaotic-orphan]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I apologize if you don’t take asks, I wasn’t sure!!

I absolutely take asks! It’s confusing because I made Orphan a secondary blog by accident, and I don’t think the ask shows up but please don’t be afraid to send them!

This looks fun thank you very much!

*~*~*~*~*

When Superhero brought Supervillain to the Supermax prison, Jack and Rufus were on duty to bring Supervillain to his specially made holding cell. Fabricator had been in the Daedalian all week, making sure that Supervillain’s cell would hold him for his entire sentence.

Rufus was impatient after getting word from Superhero that Supervillain was apprehended and on route to secure him in the Daedalian.

The prison was called the Daeds colloquially, or at least that’s what Jack and everyone around him had always called it. The Daeds, not a very terrifying name but its idea was that the prison was like the labyrinth that Daedalus made in Greek mythology, keeping the minotaur at bay. Or in this case: keeping the Villains away from the rest of society and keeping the rest of society away from the Villains.

“Do I look okay?” Rufus asked for the seventh time since Superhero’s warning. He was sitting at the reception desk while Jack stood behind the reception desk, arms folded leaning against the wall, eyes focused on the doors.

“You look fine,” said Jack without looking at him.

“We’re going to meet Superhero; I want to make a good impression.”

“I’m sure Superhero will have other things on his mind than to notice you,” said Jack, voice dry and mocking. Rufus turned in his seat to throw a glare Jack’s way.

“I know you’re new here, Rookie,” said Rufus, knowing Jack hated the name, “So let me give you some advice if you don’t want to be a Rookie for the rest of your life. Superhero sees talent and professionalism as commodities and if you get on his good side then you get promoted.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack asked, raising his brows, taking his eyes off the door and looking at Rufus.

“Yeah,” Rufus said, a superior smile gracing his ugly, rat-like face.

“How’s that working out for ya?”

Jack suppressed a smile when the insult landed on Rufus’s ears. He opened to his mouth to argue back but stopped at the noise. Jack’s eyes went to the doors as they heard the familiar buzz of the prison doors, followed by commotion.

Rufus’s retort was lost on his lips as he straightened, standing up to greet their guests. Even Jack fixed his uniform before the double doors opened in front of them.

Sidekick came in first, tall, skinny, face hidden behind a mask that covered his mouth. Jack couldn’t remember his power but could tell from the way they held himself that Sidekick wasn’t one to be messed with.

Maybe the superiority came with the job description as Superhero’s assistant.

“Hello, Superhero will bring Supervillain in in a moment. They told me to warn you again, not to look Supervillain in the eyes.”

“Of course, Sidekick,” Rufus said, bowing his head solemnly.

Jack tilted his head. “Doesn’t Supervillain have power dampeners on?”

Sidekick looked back at Jack, eyes narrowing slightly at being questioned.

“Always good to be cautious,” said Sidekick coldly.

“Of course, Sidekick. You are absolutely right. You will have to excuse Rookie here, they are new.”

“Right. This is the way things are, Rookie,” said Sidekick with a roll of his eyes.

“My name’s Jack,” said Jack flatly. “Maybe with you heroes this is the way things are, yeah. However, in the Daeds your job is done, respectfully, Sidekick. We’ll handle things our way.”

“Jack!” Rufus chided, and at this point Jack didn’t care anymore. If Sidekick was going to be rude, then Jack could be too.

Sidekick narrowed his eyes further at Jack’s comment but couldn’t speak further on the matter when the doors opened again, and Superhero walked in.

A hush fell over the room. Superhero had a hand on Supervillain’s elbow as they escorted him in. They both looked like shit, but Supervillain was definitely the worse off of the pair. Jack noticed the Sentinels from the permitter of the prison follow behind.

Two stayed on the other side of the door, two more followed Supervillain and Superhero inside, standing like statues with guns ready to fire at any point. Their faces covered by visors, and Jack wasn’t entirely sure they were human, but they gave them the creeps, nonetheless.

Jack noticed Rufus bow his head and make a point of not looking directly at Supervillain, but Jack stared at his ruffed-up face as they entered. Supervillain’s face was covered in bruises, some an old, fading green like the one on his jaw, and the newer ones angrier looking, a mix of purple, blues and reds.

Blood was crusted on Supervillain’s upper lip and chin from what Jack could only imagined came when Superhero broke Supervillain’s nose. The broken nose and busted lip and blood trails only added to Supervillain’s already roguish appearance. A devil-may-care smile made its way onto his lips when he saw Rufus bow his head on Superhero’s command.

His grey eyes widened slightly when he met Jack’s, and he tilted his head slightly, smile growing more bemused than smug.

“Hello Rufus, good to see you. Have all the arrangements been made for the security of Supervillain like I asked?”

“Yes, Superhero. Uh good to see you too! All requirements for, um, the prisoner’s cell have been fulfilled.”

“Marvellous,” Superhero sighed, then nodded at Rufus. “If you will show me the way I can escort him.”

“Of course, Superhero,” said Rufus, grabbing the keycard from behind the desk and nodding. “Right away, Superhero.”

“Actually— “said Jack without thinking, and then instantly regretted it when all eyes turned on them. Two pairs unfriendly, one set tired, and one set of eyes curious, surprised even. “The protocol is you sign in the prisoner here and we take it from there.”

Supervillain suppressed a laugh, lips curling in on themselves as he turned his head away with a slight breathy huff.

Superhero cocked an eyebrow, glancing from Jack to Rufus for an explanation. Rufus was instantly at Jack’s side, slapping him on the arm.

“Forgive them, Superhero… they— “

“They’re new,” informed Sidekick curtly.

Superhero blinked. “I— okay? Nice to meet you, we can discuss this further after I have made sure that Supervillain is secured.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you beyond this point,” said Jack, standing his ground. “No member of the public— “

“I am not just a member of the public,” Superhero interjected, more confused than angry. Although Jack noted, Sidekick’s stare had enough hatred in his gaze for them both. “I am— “

“Not just a member of the public,” said Jack coolly, cutting them off, “but a member of the public no less. Unless you are officially authorised— “

“Of course, they are officially authorised,” Rufus said through gritted teeth.

Jack shrugged. “Sorry, I just didn’t see any papers. I have no problem letting you through if you have the authorisation, Superhero.”

Supervillain let out a squeak before he swallowed the rest of his chuckle.

It was Sidekick who answered: “call the Mayor, she’ll give the authorisation.”

“Not political authorisation. Legal authorisation.”

Superhero was starting to grow more tired by the minute. “Listen, kid— “

“Officer,” Jack supplied helpfully.

Superhero grit his teeth at being cut off again. “Officer, I always bring in Villains. I understand there is a need to prove yourself, however— “

“However, section 38 of the regulatory arrests by Heroes act says that in regard to the apprehension of Villains, and or, Supervillains, by a Hero, and or Superhero, a Hero will be permitted to bring a Villain into the custody of [Supermax prison].”

“So let them in,” said Sidekick, but Jack just smiled at them.

“You are permitted only to bring a Villain into the custody of the Daeds. However, I realise you want to bring Supervillain into the cell and make sure he is secured. In that case, I assume that you have an order pursuant to section 38, paragraph 3A.”

Superhero blinked at Jack, while Sidekick stepped forward threateningly. “Do you know how long of a day we’ve had? Just forego the fucking Heroes Arrest Act and let us through.”

Jack’s eyes were cool when they found Sidekick’s blue ones that were blazing with hellfire. Jack stepped forward, matching Sidekick’s stance, and thankfully he was roughly the same height as Sidekick otherwise it would have been awkward.

“I’m afraid this is a prison, Sidekick. Laws apply here. I can’t just disregard statute, and unlawfully allow you to enter to satisfy your tantrum. Unless you want me to authorise everyone to be allowed entry to the most secure prison in the country?” Sidekick’s jaw set hard, but they were the first to look away and step back slightly. Jack turned his attention back to Superhero who was far more amiable.

“I am assuming by Sidekick’s anger that you don’t have the proper authorisation to bring Supervillain further. I will take Supervillain off your hands and make sure they are secured and properly handled under our care. You have my word. Rufus, here, will take care of the proper paperwork you have to sign,” Jack said, taking a bit of joy in Sidekick’s furious helplessness.

Superhero, who looked like shit too, just nodded, rubbing their temple at the many, many words Jack was spouting. To be honest, they didn’t want to sign paperwork. They just wanted to get home and have a long hot shower. Order a takeaway. Relax.

“Okay,” said Superhero with a nod. “We’ll do that. Stand down, Sidekick.”

“But— “

“We can talk to the mayor, tomorrow,” said Superhero, staring at Jack with a measured gaze and a neutral expression.

“Give the Mayor my best,” said Supervillain casually as Superhero handed Supervillain over to Jack.

“He’s your problem now,” said Superhero. “Good luck.”

Jack nodded at Superhero, then turned and brought Supervillain through to processing. Only after the doors closed with a loud beep did Jack let out a breath, he didn’t know he was holding.

“Very bold of you to stand up to Superhero,” Supervillain mused, voice teasing. “What was your name again, Officer?”

“I didn’t give it,” Jack said with a shrug.

Supervillain hummed. “Of course, what is your name then Officer?”

“Officer will do just fine,” Jack replied curtly, heart hammering against his chest.

“Of course, Officer. And is your background in law, or do you just like to know your rights?”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t talk about me if it’s all the same to you.”

Supervillain went quiet for a moment. Then said, “alright. You’re a smart one, never give anything for free.”

“It’s just not professional,” Jack said after a hesitant pause. Why did he feel he needed to explain his behaviour to Supervillain of all people?

“Of course, I understand Officer. I’m guessing I never killed anyone belonging to you since you’re very calm and collected in my handling. Unlike Sidekick.”

Jack clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’d prefer if you stopped trying to get me to talk to you, Supervillain.”

Supervillain went very tense under Jack’s hand and Jack was sure that Supervillain was going to strangle him there and then. Then, Supervillain relaxed and nodded.

“I can respect that, Officer.”

That was it.

Supervillain didn’t speak again, didn’t put up a fuss or plead or try and persuade Jack to free him. He didn’t make another offer or attempt to start a conversation. He followed all the procedures up to, and including, taking his cuffs off when he was in the cell.

“This place…” Supervillain said, a shiver running down his spine. “It’s strange. Unnatural. With the power dampeners you can still feel your power underneath them, trying to escape but here— I just feel empty.”

Supervillain looked at Jack through the bars, grey eyes apologetic as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I just— I talk a lot. It’s strange.”

“I’ll bring by dinner and get the Doctor to fix you up in a while.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

Jack didn’t say anything to that as he left. He didn’t know how to respond and even if he did what would he say?

I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable?

This is what you get for the blood on your hands?

Neither of them seemed satisfactory to Jack so he left the room in silence. Leaving Supervillain’s words of gratitude lingering on the air.

                                        *~*~*~*~*

Rufus didn’t talk to Jack for a few days after “embarrassing” them in front of Superhero and Sidekick. Jack honestly wished he knew how to get Rufus to shut up sooner, or he would’ve done it weeks ago.

Alastair laughed when Jack told him the story in the locker room two days later. Alastair was pulling on his steel toed boots, sitting on the bench in the middle of the locker room while Jack buttoned up the shirt of his uniform.

“Damn, kid,” he said in his rough, northern accent. “I don’t know if I would have done that.”

Jack furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Alastair shrugged and said: “Superhero is a powerful enemy to have.”

“Superhero didn’t really have the problem; it was more Sidekick.”

“Same difference.”

“How?” Jack asked. “The law is the law. I can’t bend the rules for the superhero who seeks to enforce them.”

“I’m not saying you should. I’m just saying you’re braver than I am.”

Jack smiled at that, as he pulled his tie from his locker and wrapped it around his neck.

“Well, that makes sense. Your bones old and weary now.”

“I can still beat you in a fight ya wee shit,” Alastair said without hesitation. Jack let out a loud, bold laughter at that, and Alastair joined in soon after.

*~*~*~*~*

Alastair got off the phone later that same day and let out a sigh. Jack was just coming back from his lunch, and when Alastair’s eyes landed on him, he beamed with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Chef doesn’t want to give Supervillain his food,” said Alastair.

Jack wrinkled his nose at that. “Why?”

“Afraid he might hex them or something. Said he can’t afford to be fired if he tries to stab one of us later.”

“Just tell him that his powers don’t— “

Alastair waved Jack away. “Ya can’t explain all that high spec shit to the superstitious small-town folk, Jack. The only reason there’s a small town here is because the Daeds makes jobs, and jobs mean people and people mean towns and schools and — “

“So, what, did Supervillain not even get breakfast?” Jack asked, incredulous. Alastair shook his head with a resigned “Nope.”

“Fuck. Well…”

“That’s what I said too, Jack,” Alastair said with a mischievous grin. “I told Chef it’s fine. Jack is immune to Supervillain’s powers and that you’ll bring him his meals every day.”

“Everyday? I don’t work seven days, Alastair.”

“I guess he’ll starve then when you’re out, won’t he?”

Jack glared at Alastair. Then shook his head and sighed. “I’ll arrange something with Chef for when I’m not working. Maybe double up on meals or something.”

“God damn, kid,” Alastair grinned, beaming his handsome smile at Jack. “You just solve all my problems.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack said, waving him off as they headed for the Supermax ward of the Daedalian. “You just sit here and rest, wouldn’t want you breaking something if you had to actually work.”

“Come back and say that to my face,” Alastair threatened as Jack swiped his card to the iron bolt doors.

“Get hearing aids, old man.”

Alastair quipped something back, but the door had closed in that time leaving Jack alone in the hallway that connected the reception desk to the Supermax ward.

The closest ward to the Guard’s hut, and consequently, the Sentinels. Jack had to pass them at every corner once they got into Maximum Security. The cold, unfeeling things, always staring vacantly through his visors down at Jack.

Maybe they would bring Supervillain his food on Jack’s days off.

The thought of speaking to one of the sentinels scared Jack more than Supervillain starving to death on his watch. So, Jack would have to figure out something else.

*~*~*~*~*

Supervillain’s cell was locked behind locked door on locked door, on a locked ward from a locked corridor and buried under 50 feet of concrete. If there was any signal going awry in the prison, Fabrikator would know and would be alerted with her strange power that there was a fault and come fix it.

The best repair woman to have around, but her eyes were always a little to the left of you in a conversation, like she was seeing things that normal people didn’t.

When the final doors opened up to get into Supervillain’s cell, Jack took a breath then walked in. The door closed and locked behind Jack and couldn’t be opened from this side anyway. He had to wait for the person at the desk to buzz them out.

Supervillain was sitting on his bed at the back of the cell. His grey eyes found Jack’s and they smiled. His colour was better, his face a little less bruised. Now just more swollen than sore looking.

“I thought you were going to starve me,” said Supervillain, voice dry and crackling from disuse.

“Oh, we are,” said Jack, and Supervillain froze. “This is my lunch. I just thought I’d torture you with it.”

Supervillain raised his eyebrows, questioning how stupid they look at moving to stand from the bed. “I— “

“I’m just joking,” Jack said, smiling and walking over to the bars of the cell. “Sorry. The chef is superstitious. Afraid you’re going to control his mind and make them do awful things.”

“Who can blame them, really,” said Supervillain. His tone was self-deprecating, but behind it, Jack detected something sad. He pushed the tray through the hole in the bars, and Supervillain took it. “Thank you, Jack. Your kind to bring me this.”

Jack stepped back and nodded. “It’s a basic human right, Supervillain.”

“Some people say I’m not human,” Supervillain said, bringing the tray to the table and sitting down at it. Plastic knife and fork and spoon.

“I think with all the shitty things you’ve done, Supervillain, you could only be human. You scare people because you’re powerful, yes, but I don’t think that’s the extent of the fear you get.”

“No?”

“No,” said Jack, “I think people fear you more because you’re a reminder of who we all have the capacity to be.”

“Hmm,” was all Supervillain replied as he cut into his roast chicken dinner. Jack stood there for a while, more because Chef said that he has to collect the tray and the dishes.

Supervillain didn’t leave him waiting long. It must have only been five minutes when Supervillain sat back with a big sigh and a satisfied smile. Those grey eyes found Jack’s and his smile almost softened. Or maybe Jack was just imagining it.

“Please give my compliments to the chef, Officer.”

Jack let out a little awkward laugh. “I would, but they’d probably think it was a spell that you were using to control them.”

Supervillain laughed a little at that too. He picked up the tray and brought it to the bars, sliding it through for Jack to take.

“Officer, if you don’t mind, can I request a favour?”

“I can’t— “

“Just some bottles of water,” Supervillain asked, voice low and kind and a little pleading. “I can go without food, it’s just— “

Jack softened and nodded, taking the tray from Supervillain’s hands. “I’ll bring some more back to you at Dinnertime?”

“Thank you, Officer,” he said, his smile genuine.

Jack waved at the camera and the room filled with the sound of buzzing, the door opening slowly for Jack to leave through. He waited until it was closed, a voice in his mind locking down his nerves and muscles and rooting him in place. Just to make sure the door closed properly, and sealed.

The light of the lock flashed from green to red, and Jack could move again. He was fine. Supervillain was secure. He made his way back to the kitchens to talk to chef and make sure Supervillain doesn’t go without food.

To get to the kitchens, Jack had to pass by the moderate security prison for powered individuals. They were far rowdier and more boisterous than Supervillain.

“What’s this? Jack, you get demoted to kitchen duty?” Other Villain jeered. Jack ignored them and kept walking.

*~*~*~*~*

Jack was off for two days after that, and all they could think about was Supervillain. If he was fed, if he was starving, if someone remembered to top up his bottles of water.

It was driving them crazy. He should be relaxing but no, here they were, forgetting his grocery list as they stared at the multipack bottles of water in the supermarket and all they could think about was fucking Supervillain.

He needed to figure out a better way to make sure Supervillain had his basic needs attended to before he could actually relax on a day off.

Jack shook his head and went back to his shopping list and tried to push thoughts of Supervillain from his mind.

*~*~*~*~*

“Was Supervillain fed?”

It was the first question Jack asked when they walked out of the locker room. Rufus was on with them today and didn’t move or do anything to acknowledge Jack’s question.

“Rufus.”

Silence.

Jack rolled his eyes and walked up to the reception desk, slamming his hands down on it. Rufus looked up, a horribly smug smile on his face that made them look like a goblin.

“Oh, hi Jack. How were your days off?”

“Great. Was supervillain fed?”

“Hmm, Supervillain… Supervillain… nope,” Rufus said, popping the P. “Doesn’t ring a bell Rooks. Are they a new admission?”

“You’re such a dick, Rufus,” Jack all but growled, walking behind the desk and scanning his key card to maximum security. The door buzzed and Jack slammed it open, half jogging to the kitchens to talk to Chef.

“Hi Chef,” Jack said a bit breathless. He must have looked a sight.

Chef turned and smiled a wide smile at Jack. “Ah! Jack. Thank God. I have the voodoo man’s breakfast prepared for you.”

Jack followed Chef’s hand to the tray set aside away from the rest. Jack walked over and picked it up, thanking Chef.

“Did Supervillain get food when I wasn’t in, Chef?” Jack asked, turning back to face them.

Chef nodded proudly. “Yes Jack. I recruited Rufus and Alastair to feed him when you are gone.”

Jack blinked. “And they did?”

“Yes Jack. Or they ate the tray and returned it. Either way, I am happy.”

Jack’s hands tightened on the tray creaking the flimsy plastic slightly. Jack nodded and said nothing, he didn’t trust his voice to speak so he left with Chef’s comment hanging in the air.

A seed of worry planted itself into Jack’s stomach lining and ricocheted out into a ball of anxiety at what he might find at Supervillain’s cell. If he’d be alive or not. Two days without water, Supervillain could survive that right?

The anxiety didn’t leave Jack, in fact it got worse the closer they got closer to Supervillain’s cell up to the very point that he was buzzed through and opened the door to Supervillain’s cell.

He barely registered the door locking with a buzz as he half jogged over to the bars of Supervillain’s cell. Jack’s eyes went to the lump in the bed under covers and rapped on the bars with the tray.

“Hey, Supervillain. It’s breakfast,” Jack announced, his mind reeling with the same mantra: please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.

“Supervillain?!” Jack asked, voice rising in pitch. The lump stirred in bed and Jack felt the anxiety flood out of him, his shoulders sagging in relief.

He was still alive.

“Off— “Supervillain said with a dry throat, cutting himself off with a raspy cough.

“I have water,” Jack said quickly. Too quickly, too eager, why did Jack even care? Because someone had to so Supervillain doesn’t sue them, a pragmatic voice told Jack and he nodded.

It had to be that.

 Totally.

Supervillain moved slow, languid. Each movement an effort. Jack frowned. Surely, he wasn’t that famished from hunger?

It was when Supervillain turned to face Jack that drew his expression into a horrified one and stepped back. Supervillain was bloody and bruised, but these weren’t the old bruises. They were fresh, new. The bandage that Doctor used to set the swelling on Supervillain’s nose was covered in blood, re-broken. The stitches from the cut through Supervillain’s eyebrow was reopened, dark blood crusting over it and his lips were bruised and darkened by blood.

“What— “Jack began but shook his head. “Who did this?!”

Supervillain managed a smile, cracking some of the dried blood from his lips and stood from the bed. The moment he placed weight on his leg Supervillain collapsed, coughing and sputtering dryly, barely catching himself before his head hit the hard floor of the cell.

Jack put the tray on the ground and opened the doors to the cell before sense told him otherwise and ran to Supervillain’s side with a bottle of water. He put a useless hand on Supervillain’s back and Supervillain flinched.

The scariest, biggest, baddest Villain of all time flinched from Jack’s touch.

Jack took his hands off Supervillain as if it burned and sat back, giving Supervillain some space. Jack looked on helpless, worrying his bottom lip and said: “I have water. I need you to sit up, if you can. I won’t touch you, but you need to help me here.”

Jack needed Supervillain to work with him so they could see the extent of the damage. Supervillain composed themselves, sucking in a sharp breath with an arm wrapped protectively around his ribs they sat up, pressing his back against his bed frame.

Up close everything looked worse; his bruises looked angrier, his blood looked black, and his face was far too pale to be okay.

Jack opened the lid of the water bottle and handed it over to Supervillain who took it with a wince of a smile and drank greedily from it. They were drinking so fast that some of the water ran down the corners of his mouth and Supervillain yanked the bottle away with a sharp hiss as the water hit some of the cuts on his mouth.

Jack leaned forward but Supervillain’s eyes shot to him, wild, wounded and angry and Jack stopped, pausing uselessly.

“Sorry— “Supervillain offered; his voice had a little more volume to it now. He sounded like an off-brand Supervillain instead of the real, terrifying one. Jack shook his head and got to his feet.

“It’s okay. I have food for you too.”

Jack felt Supervillain’s grey eyes follow his every movement and when he turned back to face him, Supervillain had a wry smile at the open door to his cell.

“No fear of me escaping like this, is there?” he asked with a dark chuckle.

Jack placed the tray down beside Supervillain and back up a few steps, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall.

“Who did this to you? Was it Rufus?”

Supervillain shrugged weakly and winced again. “How do you know it was a Rufus?”

“They’re the only ones with keys to your cell,” Jack spat. Supervillain hummed, picking at the food on his tray and then pushing it away.

“Maybe I did it to myself,” Supervillain mused taking another sip of water, being careful to drink slower this time.

Jack rolled his eyes and said, “if you want me to believe you just got up and beat yourself bl— “

Supervillain’s eyes cut Jack off. “I didn’t say anything about beating myself up, Officer. Just that maybe as a result of my actions this is what karma has in store for me.”

Jack’s frown deepened at Supervillain’s reply, brows furrowing.

“You— you can’t seriously think that!”

“And if I do?” Supervillain asked, voice more like velvet again. He tilted his head at Jack’s expression, grey eyes smiling smug. “Just because I am a villain, Officer, does not mean I don’t understand consequence. In fact, as a villain, I think I understand it more than the average civilian.”

“You’re not in a prison to be beaten by the people who are meant to ensure you serve your sentence, Supervillain.”

Supervillain pursed his busted lips. “Maybe not. Or maybe, I’m in a prison to serve my time and repent my sins. I’m in here for justice’s sake. Perhaps justice means different things to different people.”

“Maybe,” Jack replied hotly, stepping forward and dropping to a crouch, looking Supervillain in the eye, hands bawled into fists at his sides, “but standards of practice don’t, so tell me who did this to you so I can bring them to justice. Please?”

Supervillain smirked and sat back against the bed frame staring up at Jack with smiling eyes and replied: “Officer, I did it to myself.”

Jack shook his head with a huff and stood, walking towards the cell door again and locking it. Looking back through the bars, Jack said: “Try and eat some more, I’ll get the doctor to come and check you out. Hopefully clean the cuts at the very least.”

“Thank you, Officer,” Supervillain said politely, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

*~*~*~*~*

After the Doctor saw Supervillain, Jack returned to reception, fury winding every nerve tight and hot. They moved faster, anger spurring him on more than energy. Once he swiped his card to reception, he threw the door open and stalked out, eyes zeroing in on Rufus’s back and strutting towards Rufus, looming over him.

Jack grabbed the back of the chair and swung it around.

“Oi!” Rufus exclaimed in surprise, but his mouth shut when he saw the look on Jack's face and an ugly smile spread across Rufus's face. “Jack! You've been gone so long, tell me, how is Supervillain doing?”

Jack didn't think.

He reached forward and grabbed Rufus by the collar of his shirt with both hands and dragged him from the chair. The wide-eyed surprise was enough of a gift, but it didn't satisfy Jack's anger. He didn't want Rufus to be surprised; he wanted him to be scared.

Jack pivoted on his foot and brought Rufus with him, slamming the weasel back against the support beam of the door. Rufus let out a harsh oomph and gasped when Jack twisted his wrists, turning his knuckles in on Rufus's collarbone and pressing down hard.

“You want to fucking ask me that again you piece of shit?”

“Who are you to do this to me!” Rufus screeched, indignant. Jack just yanked Rufus back and threw him back against the wall with ease. Rufus gasped out again and wrapped his hands around Jack's wrists trying to remove them but failing. “I AM YOUR SUPERIOR!”

“You're a fucking idiot, Rufus. You attacked Supervillain in his cell. Admit it.”

“I only admit to doing what any rational person would do to a scumbag like him.”

“You are fucking psychopath! He isn't a threat in here! You abused your position of power by assaulting him.”

Rufus's eyes turned murderous. “And he didn't abuse his power when he was terrorising people in the streets, did he? When he was attacking businesses, people's livelihood? How many people died because he could abuse his power?”

“You should know better.”

“No, Jack. You should know better. Do you really think the rules apply to him? If he's willing to break them, he should be willing to have rules broken for him.”

Jack pinched his lips together at that, the logic was there, and Rufus was angry and Jack should just drop it. He sighed, grip loosening but not letting go completely. “You're not the law.”

“Either are you, hotshot. You glib know-it-all bastard. You just think you're so smart, don't ya? Well,” Rufus said, screwing his nose up in disgust and pressing forward against Jack's knuckles harder. Jack breath came out faster, heart beating harder, lips curled back. “I know you're just another bastard kid from the Daeds whose father probably abandoned him when he saw you in the crib after he left you and your whore mo-”

Rufus didn't get to finish because Jack had shot a swift uppercut to his nose.

“YOU FUCKING BRAT!” Rufus wailed, stumbling to the side and holding his nose as blood gushed from it. “YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“What's all the--” Alastair said, coming out from the break room along with the sentinels who had drawn his guns at the pair. Alastair's eyes went wide, taking in the scene within a second and was already moving towards them, telling the sentinels to “stand down. I got this.”

The sentinels obeyed with a heavy shuffle, returning to his eased position guns no longer pointing at Jack and Rufus. He left his sandwich on the counter and Rufus saw him and cried, “Alastair thank god! Jack's out of control! The little bastard-”

Jack didn't think. They just moved. His fist was caught before it could make contact and they almost growled his displeasure.

“Call me a bastard again you fucking coward!” Jack yelled as Alastair bent Jack's wrist behind his back and slammed his front against the wall. Jack struggled, head butting back trying to get Alastair off them, but Alastair was twice as big and twice as strong as Jack. He just placed a hand on the back of Jack's neck and held them still. “Get off me!”

Instead, Alastair turned to Rufus and said: “go get cleaned up. I'll deal with him.”

“Be careful,” Rufus sneered, “Jack's gone feral.”

Jack struggled more in Alastair's grip until his wrist was pushed further up his back and Jack hissed in pain through gritted teeth.

“Go to Doctor,” Alastair ordered, “and don't say another word or I'll let Jack break something else.”

Jack struggled futilely in Alastair's hold, trying with all his might to push back but Alastair had him effectively restrained so he had to wait for Alastair's orders.

“Ssh, kid,” Alastair said, voice gentle as he rubbed a thumb over the back of Jack's neck. Jack's struggles ceased, a warm wave of calm overcoming him. “Deep breaths, come on now. It's okay.”

Jack took deep breaths, in slowly, feeling his ribcage expanding against the cool wall and exhaling again. “You're okay. Relax, that's it.”

It took another three long deep breaths before Alastair said, “okay. I'm gonna let you go now, and you're going to tell me what happened okay?”

Jack nodded, even though it was hard to do with his cheek smashed against the wall but still somehow, he managed. Alastair released him then. The moment his contact ended Jack felt that warm calm that overtook them rinse away like cold rain and they turned wearily, rubbing his wrist which was already bruising and looked up hesitant at Alastair.

Alastair turned and walked to the countertop, grabbing his half-eaten sandwich and nodded for Jack to sit in the chair. Half fearing Alastair wrestling him into the chair, Jack sat obligingly and stared past Alastair like a bold child about to be scolded.

“What happened?”

“I went to see Supervillain today and he was beaten within an inch of his life.”

Alastair blinked and took a bite of his sandwich. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jack asked, incredulous. “I just told you that a prisoner was beaten up under our watch.”

“And you assumed it was Rufus?”

“Who else would it be?” Jack hissed.

“Me,” said Alastair flatly and Jack sat back in his seat, shock forming an uncomfortable lump in his throat. “Doctor. Chef. Nurse. Fuck, one of the many cleaners?”

“They don't have keys to his cell.”

“Okay. So maybe one of them came to Rufus and asked for them. Maybe it was innocent, maybe it was nefarious, and Rufus knew what they planned, but that doesn't make Rufus responsible.”

“It's his responsibility to-”

“To step in the way of people's vengeance?”

“That's not-”

“Fair?” Alastair asked, raising his brows into arches. “Listen kid, I'm gonna tell you some truths about your new best friend, Supervillain, okay?”

“He's not-”

“Shut up, don't speak and just listen,” Alastair ordered and Jack's lips closed at the command. “Your pal that got ruffed up in his cell has murdered people, Jack. That's something you should remind your righteous moral compass when you're exercising judgement on his behalf. He has killed many, many people. Doctor's husband and daughter was two of them when he collapsed the train lines on seventh.”

That fact hit Jack like a stab in the gut. “She...” Jack said and then swallowed. “Doctor never told me.”

“Why would she?”

“But Doctor's fixed-” Jack began, but the fire burning in Alastair's eyes shut them up again.

“Yeah. Doctor does her job. Chef still cooks him dinner even though his brother and nephew were killed in the central bridge crash because of fucking Supervillain. George, the cleaner for us, his sick mother was in Westfront hospital when Supervillain gave Superhero that impossible ultimatum between the elementary school and the hospital, so don't come in here, acting like a righteous prick and being Supervillain's number one fan when you have no skin in the game.”

Jack was uncharacteristically quiet. The silence was deafening. Jack swallowed, eyes down and the guilt started weighing heavy on his chest.

After a few minutes of a terse silence, Jack looked up to apologise and noticed the bruises on Alastair's knuckles. His eyes stopped and stared. It felt like his stomach ran right off a cliff and was in freefall to the choppy, unknown waters below because Alastair would never…

It did not go unnoticed.

Alastair looked down with a fond kind of smile as he ran a thumb over the broken and bloodied skin that was fresh, only just scabbing over.

“My sister-in-law was in Westfront hospital in labour, about to give birth to my nephew. I was about to be an uncle. My brother was about to be a father. He lost everything in the incident. It ruined him, he blamed himself. She told him to go home and get a shower and sleep, and then she was dead. A week later he took his own life.”

A tear ran down Alastair's cheek and trailed down his strong jaw like a gentle trickle. It looked so foreign on his face, his usually happy-go-lucky charming face and smile.

“So don't you blame Rufus and go guns blazing giving him credit for my work again, Jack. Ya understand me?”

Jack felt the threat in his words.

Jack swallowed and nodded and said, “yeah. I understand.”

“Good. Then we won’t have any more problems here will we?”

Jack let his displeasure show through his petulant gaze, cocking an eyebrow at Alastair. “Depends. Will you beat up Supervillain in his cell again?”

“If the mood takes me, yeah.”

Jack sucked in a breath and set his jaw, looking to the doors of the Maximum security murderously. A strong hand reached forward and grabbed the head rest of the chair and turned it until Jack was facing Alastair again. Except it wasn’t the same Alastair that he knew. This one was strange, something uncanny and off glinting in the corner of his expression.

“I’m sorry it’s not the answer you want, kid, but it’s the truth. I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m still very fond of you and your integrity. I’m just trying to paint the picture for ya,” Alastair said leaning down, forcing Jack to sit back into the seat until his back was flush with the cushion and head rest. He was trapped under Alastair’s arm and body, and all he could do was glower up at Alastair’s charming smiling face that had an edge to it. “If you stand by Supervillain in here, you stand on your own.”

Jack pursed his lips swallowing a witty retort.

“Understand?”

“Understood.”

*~*~*~*~*

@annablogsposts sorry this took so long, I had to split it up into parts to get it out this week, I hope you enjoy!

[thepenultimateword]

Short Prompt #122

“Hello?” Hero called cautiously into the abandoned building. They could have sworn they heard some sort of noise coming from inside.

They hesitated outside the inky shadow of the door. Superhero would definitely be mad if they went in alone. They still didn’t believe that they could handle themselves. Hero had passed the test, and yet they were still treated like the could barely fight. Yeah, they were new, but that didn’t mean—

A shuddering moan cut Hero’s thoughts short. That was it. Screw Superhero. Someone was in pain and they were going to help.

Hero ducked into the darkness, following the soft groans and whimpers down to a cold, dank basement.

“Hello?” they called again, more cautiously now.

“…go away…”

“What?” Hero shuffled closer to the voice, soon finding a limp body sprawled across the cold cement. It was hard to see their condition in this darkness, but Hero’s phone flashlight revealed hints of shredded clothes and blood.

“Jus’ leave me…”

“No way, I’m going to help you! Just lay still, ok?”

The stranger groaned in response.

Hero tucked their arms beneath the strangers legs and chest, gently, gently flipping them onto their back. One look at their bruised and swollen, and they found themselves scrambling hastily back toward the door. They barely stopped themselves before fleeing up the stairs.

“S-s-supervillain?”

[kaiwewi]

Once Upon a Christmas Mission

Secret Santa gift for @chaoticgoodthief Prompt: "Two people with opposite personalities falling in love and balancing each other out." Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

Synopsis: Supervillain gives her second in command a new mission. The job, (un)fortunately, comes with a new teammate.

“What do you make of this one?”

“The newbie?”

Frowning, they scanned the newspaper clippings Supervillain had spread out on the desk between them. The lack of enthusiasm on the journalists’ part was plain to see in the five unremarkable blocks of text with unimaginative titles. A small, slightly blurred image next to a short article on a mall robbery a month ago showed the grinning rookie villain dodging out of the way of some local hero’s attack. He held a fistful of jewellery in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

With an attitude like his, one could only wonder how the guy hadn’t been caught or killed yet.

They shrugged. “Amateur. Opportunist. Reckless. Flippant. More luck than brains.”

Supervillain hummed. She wore her impervious poker face. Everything about her posture and tone indicated disinterest. To so unnatural a degree, in fact, that it was fairly obvious she did have an agenda.

They internally groaned. This wasn’t going to end well, was it.

“Why are you asking?”

The corner of her lips twitched with something that might have been amusement at the audible unease in their question.

“No more than simple curiosity,” she said, clearly deflecting. “The other day, he approached me. Asked if we were hiring. Said he’d be eager to join us.”

Of course he would be. Any new villain in the area would grovel for a chance to work even a single job for Supervillain. Instant infamy by mere association. But the newbie’s audacity, bypassing the official procedures and approaching Supervillain directly…

“Ah, great. Reckless, flippant, and presumptuous.”

“So, you do not believe him promising?”

“Promising?” They made no effort to hide their scoff. “All I see is a liability.”

“Or a great asset, under the right person’s supervision.”

“You must be joking.”

That phantom of a smile on her face grew teeth. She was most definitely not joking.

“Surely you could utilise a versatile new piece on the board to its full potential, brilliant strategist that you are.”

“You know I don’t work well with unpredictable people.”

“You work fine with me, don’t you?”

She made that sound like casual banter; it smelled an awful lot like a trap.

“I don’t know why this newbie intrigues you so,” they said, weighing their words carefully, “but, and please pardon my bluntness, I do not want rogue pieces fucking with my game.”

“I’m afraid I need you to give him a chance,” she said as she produced a thin folder from the upper-most drawer of her office cabinet and slid it across the desk, “because I already hired him for this job I’m putting you in charge of.”

“Unbelievable! You could have asked me first.”

She should have asked them first.

“You would have said no.”

Damn right, they would have.

She gestured at the folder. “Christmas Eve. Your target is the Downtown Museum’s special End of the Year Exhibition. Can I count on you?”

Always. And she bloody well knew it too.

They heaved a heavy sigh.

“Fine. One chance. But I swear, if he fucks up…”

***

In the end, as irony would have it, when their meticulously crafted plan did fall to pieces, it wasn’t the newbie who’d fucked up.

He, against their admittedly low expectations, had listened most attentively, had carried out his orders diligently, hadn’t so much as offered a single sign of a contrary disposition. He’d checked in every other minute to report his position, had followed the exact route he’d been assigned at the exact pace they’d agreed upon.

So, as they guided him and the rest of the team through the first stage of their plan – getting everyone inside the museum undetected – they’d had to begrudgingly admit to themself that the only thing that stood out about the newbie was his annoying enthusiasm for doing a fantastic job.

And then, just when they’d started to think that maybe this would be another flawless operation after all, one of their field operatives, Tempest, reported in.

“—s….hing’s wrong. Sec..ity guard in Sector E. Hav. ..en spotted. Abort—”

Her voice cut off. Replaced by nothing but eerily crackling white noise.

It didn’t make any sense. How was there a guard in Sector E? They’d done the maths. They’d checked everything, countless times. Security wasn’t supposed to be in Sector E for at least another 10 minutes.

Not that it made much of a difference now that their cover had been blown.

Abort operation…?

Really the only viable option at this point. But that was unprecedented. There’d been hiccups on other missions, sure, but they’d never had to call for a full hasty retreat before.

Supervillain would be so disappointed.

But they had to. By the looks of it, they’d lost one operative already. They had to get the rest of the team out. This was their responsibility. Their fault. They had to do something before—

“Reporting in,” the newbie’s voice rasped from the radio. “This is Ghost. Current position: Sector E, entrance to Stairwell 4. Assisted Tempest. She is unharmed. But the security guard escaped. And he is not one of the regular crew. I repeat, the security guard is not one of the regular crew.”

Different security. Why was there different security?

They sucked in a breath that hardly made it past their throat and did nothing to relieve them of the tightness in their chest. Then they picked up the radio, and faltered.

Which of the escape routes was least likely to be compromised? It had to be an exit point everyone was able to reach. And quick. That security guard must have raised the alarm by now.

Precious seconds ticked away.

“Exit Strategy B,” they croaked. “I repeat, Exit Strategy B. Abort operation.”

***

A mere 40 minutes after their first failed mission – hardly enough time to begin to come to terms with how badly they’d fucked up, let alone recompose themself – the newbie found them sulking at the little table in the corner of the HQ’s staff kitchen.

If he’d seen them hastily brush some wetness from the corners of their eyes as he entered the room, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he wordlessly walked over and set a tray of cookies down next to their still untouched cup of black coffee.

They couldn’t bring themself to contemplate where he’d found those and they didn’t particularly feel like eating anything either. They took a cookie regardless.

“Great hiding spot,” the newbie said after a moment of tense silence. “Took me forever to find you.”

That’s because they hadn’t wanted to be found.

“What do you need?” they said, speaking more to their coffee than him.

“Nothing. But I’ve got something for you; thought it might be able to lift your spirits.”

Yeah, not bloody likely.

“No thank you.”

“Why not?”

Because they didn’t deserve cheering up.

“I messed it all up,” they said, and it felt like too much of an answer. Too raw. Too honest.

Their voice shook horribly. Pathetic.

“Nah, that was bad luck. Your plan was genius.”

“My plan failed.”

“You got everyone in and out.” He offered a loathsomely genuine reassuring smile. “That the museum spontaneously hired a different security team sucks. Not your fault though. No one could have seen that coming.”

They listlessly stirred their coffee with their cookie and laughed bitterly as it broke apart and disintegrated. Just like their plan. Nothing but lukewarm wet mush.

“I should have considered the possibility. I should have had another contingency plan. You don’t understand, do you? Knowing things, anticipating events, is my job. What good am I to my team when I can’t ever acquire crucial information? I almost got Tempest arrested.”

“But she wasn’t arrested.”

“No thanks to me.”

“You weren’t there,” he said, and somehow made it sound soothing rather than accusatory.

A beat of silence in which they forced another shallow breath into their lungs.

They wanted to scream. But they had to keep their frustration in check, be professional. The newbie didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. None of this was his fault. He’d done great. Without him there…

“Thank you,” they said on the exhale.

“We are a team, you know. You do the research, prepare the operation, brief us. You find us a safe way in and out.” As he spoke, the newbie scooped up a ridiculous number of cookies from the tray. “You’re not a field operative like Tempest and me. Reacting to unexpected events and new information in the field is our job,” he said kindly, then unceremoniously dumped the entire handful of cookies into his mouth.

Like this was coffee and cake at grandma’s and not him obligingly turning a blind eye to the fact his team leader was about to have a most unprofessional breakdown in front of him.

Gosh, it was so very hard not to judge him for his table manners. It was so ridiculous it almost startled a laugh out of them despite everything.

“For what it’s worth—” they tried for a small apologetic smile “—you did do a splendid job out there. I’ll make sure to inform Supervillain about that. I know how eager you were to work with her. I cannot imagine she’ll be best pleased when we turn up empty-handed … but I’ll do what I can to ensure this mess doesn’t reflect badly on you.”

Hazel eyes watched them closely while the newbie chewed and swallowed audibly. He licked the residue powdered sugar off his lips, off the tips of his fingers. The slight creases lining the outer edges of his lower eyelids bestowed a slightly impish quality to his gaze.

The only prominent lines on their own face were those born of frowns and brooding.

His was the face of someone accustomed to grins, smirks, and laughter.

He wasn’t grinning now, of course, but …

They’d expected him to be upset. Disappointed. Anxious, perhaps, that he might have lost his one chance to impress Supervillain. But, if anything, he appeared clad in an air of nervous excitement.

“Soooo,” he drawled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Speaking of Supervillain … I was wondering. Why didn’t you tell us what we were to steal for her? Why weren’t we supposed to know until we reached Gallery 5?”

“No particular reason,” they said, careful to temper the displeasure creeping into their tone. “It was information you didn’t require prior to reaching the target location.”

The newbie pulled a face and visibly bit back what would have undoubtedly been a snide comment. Instead, he asked, “yeah okay, but what was it?”

“Hardly matters now, does it.”

“Actually, I really think it does.”

They scrubbed a hand down their face, sighed. “How so?”

“Say, what if—” he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and lifted his shoulders in a shrug “—I had, hypothetically speaking, ignored your final order, made a breezy lil detour, and used Exit Strategy A instead of B?

“And what if,” he continued, “I had, hypothetically speaking, grabbed a couple souvenirs along the way?” He gave them a sheepish look as he pulled his hands back out of his pocket, producing two messy piles of tangled jewellery and trinkets that he placed on the table between them. “Because, confession time: I did.”

And there it was, amidst all the precious metals and all the valuable stones, their target – the ancient, allegedly cursed, Amulet of the Mothers’ Sorrow.

All they managed was a choked, breathless laugh. Their head swam with so many questions and yet they couldn’t seem to locate enough words to form a single sentence.

The newbie began answering the most pressing of them – HOW!? – without prompting.

“Well. When I pulled that guard off of Tempest, I noticed that shiny keycard hanging right there on his belt, and … I nicked it. Just couldn’t help myself. Grabbed his communicator too. Also wanted to knock the guy out, but he got away.” He made a small disgruntled noise, followed by a snort. “But then the idiot ran down Corridor 14. Like, I don’t think he was even familiar with the museum’s layout.

“Anyway, I figured I’d have at least 4 minutes before he’d find the next phone or reach another guard. And even if he found a panic button, security would still have to regroup first. And with access to the staff elevator … reaching Gallery 5 would take me, maybe, 2 minutes at best. And there I’d already be in the perfect position to use Exit Strategy A.

“Long story short: I know a worthwhile opportunity when I see it. Of course—” and here his voice gained an unmistakable edge “—I hadn’t been told what exactly I was supposed to steal. So I had no choice but to stuff whatever I thought were the most likely candidates into my pockets, hit or miss, and make a run for it.”

He made a vague gesture encompassing his loot.

“Did I get the right one?”

“I—” They cleared their throat and reached for the dark amulet – a filigreed pattern, seemingly liquid, a mercury river delta, against a background of polished onyx – on a necklace with a rich green cord woven through a silver chain, and untangled it from the other treasures. It was so pleasantly warm still from when he’d carried it in his pocket, on his person. His body heat seeping into the palm of their hands as they cradled the amulet to their chest.

They could have cried. Or kissed him.

“Yeah,” they said, barely above a whisper.

“Well then,” he offered, amiably, “lucky you. And maybe next time just tell the rest of us what it is we’re going after.” A grin tugged on their new favourite teammate’s lips. “Merry Christmas.”

The newbie took a bow, turned with an exaggerated flourish, and, humming a festive tune, strolled off towards the exit.

They stared after him, transfixed.

On the doorstep, with the door already opened, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“By the way,” he said, “you got it wrong. Supervillain’s cool all right. But it isn’t her I’m eager to work with.”

~~~

Epilogue: New Christmas Traditions

“How’s the plan for this year’s Christmas operation coming along, darling?”

Their partner came up behind them, slung his arms over the back of their office chair and around their shoulders, and let his upper body go slack. As he nuzzled against the crook of their neck, he leaned on them like a particularly heavy but not at all uncomfortable scarf.

“Almost done.” They scanned the markings they’d made on the map covering half their desk. “I know how to get us inside. Currently working on how to get us out afterwards.”

“My criminal mastermind. Always gotta have at least 3 escape routes.” Their partner chuckled, somewhere between fond and mischievous, and started walking his fingers slowly down their chest.

“I prefer ‘exit strategies,’” they said, and caught him by the wrists before he got the chance to fully launch his tickle attack. “The word ‘escape’ implies opposition or pursuit. Ideally – assuming a certain someone’s antics don’t negatively affect the quality of my work – we’ll encounter neither.” Nevertheless, they turned their full attention to him now. “But should something ever not go according to plan,” they murmured into his hair, “I know I can always rely on my partner’s quick wit and nerves of steel.”

He pressed a kiss below their ear. “Damn right. Those heroes will never catch us.”

“Partners in crime.”

“Partners in crime.”

They shared a hearty laugh and a few seconds of tranquillity.

Then they gestured towards a booklet half-hidden beneath a stack of documents. The catalogue of the current target’s exhibits. “Have you had a chance to compile your wish list yet?”

“Nah,” their partner said, “I think I’d like it to be a surprise. I’ll know which ones I want when I see them. You?”

“I have picked a few favourites.”

“Perfect,” he purred. “You can tell me all about them over dinner. I made lasagna.”

“Perfect,” they echoed.

And that he was indeed: absolutely perfect.

[dawlsrkute]

Lori Beth as granny goodness makes sense and it’s genuis

[blanddcheadcanons]

The Rookie, in both hero and villain endings, ended up making friends with all the heroes and villains, along with a few henchmen like Bill from the Goonion. He keeps a very good distance from Joker and Lex though. Joker because of his insanity and murder happy attitude and Lex because he doesn’t trust him after his multiple betrayals. Joker understands why he became a hero though. Even he can’t stand Lex trying to become the ruler of the world and his cocky personality.

‎

[writing-prompt-s]

You are a rookie hero. While a dangerous supervillain was preoccupied, rival villains kidnapped his wife. You were the only hero willing to help get his wife to safety. The terrifying supervillain now wants to thank you in person.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Hey! Not sure if you do requests, sorry if you don’t! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?:

Ask anonymously

Hi there Annablogsposts! I do requests, I’m just typically really slow getting to them, lol. I’d love to write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!

Hero entered the meeting room, where Leader and the rest of their team were already talking.

“So we’re in agreement, then?” Leader asked.

Teammate One nodded.

“If we take Henchman, we can interrogate them and learn more about Supervillain’s plans than we ever could through just reconnaissance.”

“Woah woah woah,” Hero said, “are we talking kidnapping?”

“Uh, yeah?” Teammate Two said, quirking an eyebrow.

Hero shifted their weight from one foot to the other.

“But isn’t kidnapping, I don’t know, wrong? I mean, Henchman doesn’t even have powers- they’re not even in the field most of the time. Why would we-”

Leader folded their arms across their chest.

“Hero, do you want to stop Supervillain or not? Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now, Teammate One is going to be look-out, while you-”

“No,” Hero said.

Leader blinked.

“No?”

“No,” Hero repeated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of something that goes against my morals, not to mention what we stand for. None of us should even be talking about this, let alone actually going through with it!”

Hero didn’t wait for Leader’s response. They turned and left the meeting room, only stopping when they got back to their own room.

…

Hero jolted awake, stirred by the sounds of a struggle. They checked the clock. Three in the morning. Their team must have gone through with it after all.

Hero crept into the room that had been set up as a holding cell. They peeked in and saw Henchman, battered and bloody, breathing hard. Hero’s eyes widened. Their own team did this!?

Hero unlocked the door and knelt by the criminal. Their eyes were glassy and dilated. Drugged. It wasn’t even a fair fight.

“I’m gonna help you,” Hero whispered.

“Hero?” Henchman croaked dazedly.

Hero had already left, bolting to the med bay to get supplies. They rushed back into the cell and got to work.

“This is more Teammate Two’s thing, but I’m gonna try my best,” Hero said quietly.

The room was silent, save for the occasional whimper from Henchman. When Hero finished, they had stitched up the deeper wounds and bandaged the more shallow ones.

Hero opened their mouth to ask a question when the far wall exploded into tiny bits. Supervillain stood there, a dark look on their face.

“Henchman?” Supervillain called.

“In here!” Henchman slurred.

Supervillain rushed to their right hand’s side.

“Who did it? One of them, or all of them?” Supervillain asked.

“A-all but this one,” Henchman said, nodding to Hero.

Supervillain looked up at Hero. Their eyes drifted to the medical supplies, and Hero’s bloodied hands.

“Not one for breaking the rules, hm?” Supervillain asked.

Hero sat frozen in shock. Supervillain had never been able to take out a wall like that before. Supervillain had always had minimal powers. How did they do this?

“Hero, wait for me outside,” Supervillain said, “and take Henchman with you.”

Hero opened their mouth, but no sound came out.

“Come on,” Henchman said, struggling to get up.

That spurred Hero into action. They helped Henchman up, and took them outside, stepping over bits of rubble and letting Henchman put their weight on them for support.

Hero turned.

“What are you gonna do?” they asked timidly.

Supervillain adjusted their gloves, their fingers curling into fists.

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

…

Hero waited outside until they heard the screaming. Those were their team’s voices. They laid Henchman down, leaning them up against a tree.

“I need to go help them,” Hero said, “stay here.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Henchman grunted, pulling something from a concealed pocket in their boot.

Hero barely had time to question what it was before the object was slammed into their thigh.

“Sorry, kid,” Henchman said, “but you don’t need to get hurt on account of them.”

Hero’s world spun. They stumbled, falling to the ground right next to Henchman. Henchman positioned them against their chest, so they’d be more comfortable. Hero drifted off a moment later.

…

Supervillain dusted themselves off, stepping over the mess of unconscious bodies strewn about the room. They approached Henchman, taking note of Hero, fast asleep.

“They tried to run in?” Supervillain asked knowingly.

Henchman shrugged, nodding.

“Poor thing,” Supervillain sighed, “we’ll sort them out. They deserve better.”

Supervillain picked both Henchman and Hero up with ease, as though they were little more than a few feathers. They flew off, back to their base. The rest of the team would wake up so see themselves and their compound in shambles. Hero, on the other hand, would wake up in a lavish bedroom. It pays to not anger the most powerful Supervillain in the world.

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[silveryclear]

♟️Yandere Villain x Hero Reader part 1

♟️ Male Yandere Villain X Female Hero Reader

♟️ CW: Smut build up, coercion, manipulation, implied kidnapping, obsessive behavior

♟️ 2.4 k words

You were a rookie superhero graced with the powers of flight, great strength, and agility. You also had a great heart and the motivation to help people. In less than a year, you had managed to capture the hearts of all the beloved citizens that lived in the city you grew up in. Your debut as a hero was nothing short of a success! People loved you, authorities respected you, and most of all, you managed to reduce crimes committed by supervillains by 60%! In honor of your heroic efforts, the city had organized a ball in your honor, a masquerade one to be exact. This gave you the perfect opportunity to enjoy the celebration without being in the center of attention. Ironic enough, you were never one to participate in places with large crowds. But the city had put in so much work for you, you couldn’t not attend.

The party was bustling by the time you arrived. Already was there a large crowd waltzing in the middle of the ballroom, the band playing wondrous music. Your eyes flit over the crowd, admiring each and every mask as well as their matching dresses and suits. People were talking, dancing, eating… just generally enjoying their night. And you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you, knowing that you’ve contributed to the safety and peace of mind of thousands of people. Although, a small, anxious part of you couldn’t be quelled so easily. You knew this is temporary, just a fleeting moment of tranquility before disaster strikes again. In your mind, this disaster takes the form of a person. A very evil person. One of the very cunning villains that have managed to wreak havoc for years without getting caught once.

Hades.

He has never shown his face, not once. The information the police have of him is virtually non existent, and the information that they do have are mostly rumors. But one thing is for certain: he has never has done any of the dirty work himself. He always has contacts, pawns, and a whole lot of power. A fitting name for someone who is considered “The King of the Underworld”. It is said that he just gazes from above (or below) at the chaos he has engineered, like it’s some twisted game of chess for him. And while you’re not one to ever back down from a fight, you can’t help but shiver at the thought of him taking you on as his new opponent. With all the attention you’ve garnered, your assumption isn’t far fetched.

However, you might’ve underestimated just how long this match had gone for.

And if you were even a player at all.

In the middle of your anxious thoughts, you felt a tap on your shoulder, promptly breaking you out of your inner turmoil. You quickly turn around and come face to face with piercing green eyes. Anything that you had meant to say died in your throat as soon as your eyes met his… and the rest of him. He stood tall, towering over you even with your 4 inch heels. He was also dressed to kill— wearing a black fitting suit with a black dress shirt with a few open buttons to show off his collar and part of his chest. The suit was lined up with green, intricate embellishments that matched his mask and complimented his eyes stunningly. His hair was neatly styled in twists and he even wore jewelry and smokey eyes that made his dark complexion glow. This man was drop dead gorgeous.

His lips broke out in a charming smile and you felt yourself get—metaphorically— shot in the heart.

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring off into space for a while…” The man spoke in a low, sultry voice that made your insides quiver.

You cough and chuckle nervously, flustered for being caught ogling this fine man like a creep. “Y-Yes! I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. I was… thinking about work.” You sputter, trying to find an excuse that wasn’t necessarily false.

He chuckles, still gazing at you with those magnetic eyes. “Ah, so that’s what had you twisting your beautiful face in worry. I was hoping that you would do me the honor of joining me for a dance? I think you could use a break from your worries, we are at the ball of the year, aren’t we?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment and you feel nervous, but excited to dance with this alluring mystery man. You smile. “That, we are. A dance may be just what I need.”

He smiles back, stretching out his large hand for you to take. “May I?”

You place your hand in his, his palm smooth, as opposed to yours that has been calloused from all your training and hero work. Fingers brush against the palm of your hand and he smiles kindly. “Indeed, the hands of hard working woman.” He says before bringing your hand towards his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as the looks firmly into your eyes. Your face heats up once again and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

This goes beyond what you expected from this ball.

The man pulls you the dance floor in the center of the ballroom, holding your hand and hip as you glided on the dance floor along with the music.

“How are you feeling now? I hope I’m doing a good job at keeping those thoughts away.” He smiles and twirls you around and brings you back into his arms.

You giggle, actually allowing yourself to enjoy the party that was meant for you. “I’m actually having fun. I don’t particularly like being around large crowds, but you’ve made it enjoyable. Thank you.” You give him a genuine smile.

You swore you saw something dark, something primal flash in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “Not a fan of crowds, huh? Can’t say I’m fond of them either. I work remotely so these are the only moments where I engage with the masses.”

“Lucky.” You mutter playfully.

He laughs, a deep, melodic sound that made your heart race. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, if I hadn’t crawled out of my cave tonight, I wouldn’t have met you~” He gives you a twirl and pulls you closer, stepping back in sync.

Damn. He’s smooth.

“Besides, how could I pass up the chance of dancing with the city’s greatest hero without interruption~?”

Your step falters and stumble backwards, bracing yourself for a fall that never comes. Instead, you’re held by the mysterious man who has made the fall into a dip, making it seem part of the dance. He smiles coyly. “Did I say something wrong?”

You’re pulled back up and you feel that same sinking sensation that you had earlier. You compose yourself and clear your throat. “How did you know it was me?”

“Oh, I’m something of a fanboy. I could recognize you in a heartbeat.” He smiles, yet, it doesn’t comfort you.

“Everyone here is a fan, yet you’re the only one who recognized me.” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

You can feel him pull you closer, your bodies close enough to feel his quickened heartbeat. You could only make sure your steps were in sync as you looked over his shoulder. He places one hand on your back, his fingers running down your spine and kept a firm grip on your hip. You shiver, not sure if it’s from delight or fear. His lips suddenly hover above your ear as he whispers, “True, but I’m your biggest fan~”

You sense a change in his demeanor, although subtle, you learned to catch these subtleties from your experience fighting villains. However, it wasn’t enough to detect this one fast enough.

You take a sharp breath. “Who are you?”

He twirls you again and brings you face to face with him. He grins devilishly. “What does your gut say~?”

You breathing becomes ragged and you feel your blood run cold as your worst fears had come to life.

You just danced and flirted with the devil himself.

You try to pull away from him but he makes sure to keep a tight hold on you while still maintaining the facade of dancing.

"Now, now, the dance isn't over and we can't have our Great Hero looking too out of sorts. No one would know the city is safe and in good hands if they see you panicking on the dance floor. And who knows what I just might do if that were to happen." Your eyes widen and Hades laughs darkly as he continues to dance with you in close proximity, his eyes lingering on the features of your face and the shape of your body. "I was worried you wouldn’t have recognize me at all. I've always wanted to dance with you, Hero."

Your body trembles and your breathing grows erratic. You can feel his hold loosening slightly and his hand rub your back comfortingly as he whispers soothing words into your ear. “That’s it, baby… just breathe…” For your sake, you forget who the words are coming from as you focus on your breathing.

Once you feel calm, you grit your teeth. And scowl at him. “Do you get a kick out of making me look like a fool?”

Hades hums and grins devilishly. "I do, especially when getting the satisfaction of knowing I fooled the city's hero into dancing and flirting with me. Fitting for the one responsible for all my misery."

He continues holding you close to his chest and brings his face inches from your face with a wicked laugh. He gets even closer so when he speaks you feel his breath on your ear. “But I will be honest, dancing with you, feeling your body pressed against mine, seeing you flustered up close… fills me with another type of type of satisfaction~”

You glare at him as you keep dancing. You pretend everything is fine as to not arouse any suspicion from the rest of the crowd. “What do you want?”

Hades laughs wickedly, his dark green eyes shining in the dim lights of the dance floor. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He then puts a hand on your hip and grips tightly, bringing you closer. “I came to collect my prize~”

You furrow your eyebrows and look over at him, confused. “What are you talking about? What prize?”

Hades grins, finding your confusion amusing. “Why, you, of course~” He caresses your face gently as if handling a work of art. His eyes roam your body hungrily. “And you are all wrapped up and pretty for me too~”

You swat his hand away and scowl. “You must be out of your damn mind if you think for a second that I’d go anywhere with you.”

His grin only turns more sinister as he grabs your face tightly and pulls you face to face. Your eyes widen and you feel your body begin to tremble again. “I think it‘ll do you well to learn some manners. Especially when you, dear Hero, are mine.”

“I don’t owe you anything, you brute!” You growl at him. Even in your position, you will never submit to a villain.

He chuckles darkly and his grip on your face tightens. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my darling Hero. You owe me everything.”

Hades stares at your confused expression with amusement. The grip on your face disappears and he returns to dancing with you as if nothing had happened. His piercing green eyes stare back at yours, demanding your attention. “You see, little hero, I have powers beyond your comprehension, superpowers and earthly powers alike. I control every single person inside and out of this building.” He grips your hip and pulls you closer, grinning madly. “I have your beloved city under my thumb.”

With every word he utters, the feeing of dread and fear continues to build up in the pit of your stomach.

Hades twirls you and brings you back towards him, your steps out of sync, but he manages to dance through it quite proficiently. “Do you know what that means?” He whispers, breath fanning your face gently. “Do you understand what I’m trying to imply?”

You stare back at him, holding his gaze as you nod.

He grins widely. “Tell me.” He demands with a smooth voice.

You take a sharp breath. “I-I became a hero… because of you.” As you said it out loud you felt the feeling helplessness slowly latch onto you— breaking you. Behind the words you uttered, lies a hidden truth: For every great source of good in the world, there’s an even greater source of darkness pulling it’s strings.

“Good girl~” He coos and pinches your cheek. “Such a good girl. Did you really think it was that easy to become a hero? You never questioned why everything went so smoothly.” He chuckles and caresses your cheek softly. “That’s how I knew you’d make the perfect toy for me to sway the masses~”

You feel like you’re about to throw up. Tears brim your eyes and you bite your lip to hold back a sob.

Hades’s face softens slightly as he pulls you into his chest and rubs your back soothingly. “Don’t cry, little hero. I know your little fantasy world collapsed— But I’ll help you see the beauty in the world I’ve created. After all,”

He leans back and grabs your chin. “I created it just for you~”

Hades pulls you into a hot, sensual kiss— groaning once his lips touched yours, deepening the kiss, delving his tongue into your warm mouth and tasting you. His kiss only grew with intensity once he finally got a taste of you after craving you all night. You can only stand there and take it as if you feel an incredible force keeping you from leaving.

Hades pulls away from the kiss and your breath hitches once you gaze into his eyes. The lust and possessiveness that he had restrained during the evening now emanated from him in waves. His breathing is ragged and his pupils are dilated. The feeling of dread you felt before was nothing compared to what you’re feeling right now.

He pulls you close, holding you tightly against his body, like a viper wrapping its coils around their prey. Hades whispers seductively, “You are mine, little hero. And I’ll make sure to show you tonight just how much I crave you.”

You overestimated your role in this game. You were never a player. Just like everyone else, you are just another piece in a game of chess you weren’t even aware was happening . And you were his final piece to acquire.

Just like that, you were his. As you were always meant to be.

[sunnynwanda]

Hey!! Sorry I am always in ur requests box bahaha

If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is? ❤️❤️

Ruin

Warnings: power of destruction, grafic injuries, blood, torture (in a way?), mentions of killing.

Shadows danced across the wall, earning a dark chuckle from Supervillain. Heroes were never much of a threat, more like a bunch of bothersome and overly persistent pests that had flooded the city. The clock struck midnight a few minutes ago, but here they were - attempting to creep up on Supervillain for a surprise attack. As if. 

They'd tried this tactic a multitude of times, none of them were a proper attack or even a surprise. 

Amateurs.

Superillain sighs in exasperation, pulling his gloves on to avoid fatally wounding anyone just as two masked heroes appear in front of him. 

"Evening," Supervillain's smirk is met by two identical scowls. "To what do I owe the pleasure tonight?"

One of the heroes growls, speaking through gritted teeth. "You're under arrest. Surrender." 

Supervillain cocks an eyebrow at the pair, holding back a laugh. Holding back was something he had to do on a daily. And he was growing tired of it. "You think it's going to be that easy? There's only two of you." 

"Two is more than enough to contain you," the other hero speaks up, their expression as sour as their friend's. This time, Supervillain fails to hide his laugh. This seems to make his rivals' blood boil over. "We will destroy you." 

You think you can? Supervillain thinks but keeps his lips sealed shut as he nods, deep in thought. Wish you knew how badly I want to unleash my power. 

But he could not. They were kids. If he didn't know better he'd think the city council sent them on purpose. To test Supervillain's patience or to provoke him. Until he slips up. Until he does something unforgivable. Until he falls prey to the cruel scheme. Supervillain can find no other explanation for sending rookies to fight him, of all villains. It was a death wish. A clear one. How could anyone expect them to conquer a supervillain who has destruction spewing out of his fingertips?

"Cut it out and go home," Supervillain runs a gloved hand over his face, shutting his eyes for a moment. He can tell something is off because they always attack in four and stick together. So where are the other two? "You're just kids."

Someone lets out a bark of a laugh behind him, but there's nothing light about it. Supervillain turns his head, glancing over his shoulder - only to freeze in place. His eyes widen, lips pressing into a thin line when his gaze lands on the sleeping form of his younger brother. He looks peaceful in the arms of one of the heroes, but Supervillain... Supervillain is anything but peaceful. 

"How dare you..?" He cuts off, not even finishing his thought when he sighs, determination setting in. That's one too many lines crossed. 

"Guys," the youngest of the heroes speaks up, their voice weak and shaking. "Guys, seriously. This isn't fair." 

Supervillain can't help throwing them a glance, taking note of their scrunched eyebrows and trembling lips. The heroes ignore their friend entirely.

"Oh, we dare," one of them responds to Supervillain's question, sadistic sarcasm lacing their tone. "You will surrender to us." 

"Still think we're kids?" The other one chimes in, snickering at the thought. Oh, Supervillain doesn't see rookies or kids anymore. Now, he sees enemies. 

He knows what he does to enemies.

"Guys, please..." The same hero pleads, their eyes full of tears. Supervillain almost smiles at them.  

"Shut it," another sneers, irritation colouring their features. They turn to Supervillain with a self-satisfied smirk. "If you want your brother to remain unharmed, you'll get on your knees and beg for it."

"You're taking this too far!" Their friend laments, despair overtaking their otherwise delicate features.

Don't you worry, little one, I'll wreck them. 

"Return him to me," Supervillain demands, rage flaring to life in the depths of his eyes. His voice is hoarse from restraint as he battles his inner demon for every second of delay. "Now."

"Make us," the one holding up the sleeping kid snorts, grinning in the most smug way possible. 

I will ruin you, Supervillain thinks, I'll completely obliterate you. 

"If you can, that is," another hero scoffs. Supervillain glares at them with narrow eyes, pressing his lips together until they turn white. He can feel the piercing coldness of his wrath coursing down his limbs towards his trembling hands.  

"Oh, I can just fine," Supervillain hisses, slowly pulling at one of his gloves, watching it slide off his blackened fingers. He sends the youngest hero a glance - a warning of sorts, before lunging forward.

His fingertips graze the forearm wrapped around his little brother, making it weak enough to let the kid slip down from their hold. The hero lets out a low groan, not quite registering the source of the pain yet. Supervillain's movements are quick, he brushes his fingers over the side of the hero's thigh - the sharp jolt brings them down to their knees with a choked cry - just in time for Supervillain's brother to land safely on the ground. 

The two heroes behind his back seem to snap out of it, jumping onto his back and taking Supervillain into a chokehold with one of his arms pinned to his side. Unlucky for heroes, they restrain the gloved one. 

Supervillain sees the youngest hero take his little brother into their arms, stepping away from the fight, their eyes wide with fear. Their knees are buckling under them at the horrifying sight that plays out, so they lean against a nearby wall.

Supervillain mouths a 'thank you' before bringing his free hand up and dragging his fingers along the arm around his throat. The hero screams in agony, their eyes watering at the sudden pain as they watch their arm turn stiff and black. "What the f-" 

Supervillain doesn't wait for them to finish, twisting around and pressing his open palm to the other hero's stomach. They bend over in an instant, clutching their middle and coughing out dark clots of blood.  

"What the fuck? Is that what you wanted to ask?" Supervillain asks, tilting their head to the side as they watch their enemies on the ground, wallowing in the unfamiliar ache that's taken over their bodies, their flesh twisting and turning into something akin to coal. 

When no words come from them, Supervillain lets out a dark chuckle, crouching to be face-to-face with them. Grabbing one of the heroes by the chin, he sneers. "This is becoming radically boring. Answer me." 

"H-how?" The hero tries to jerk away, tears springing from their eyes as they wheeze through every inhale. Supervillain's fingers are cold against their clammy skin.

"Fuck, it hurts so much..." Another one whimpers out, wiping at their eyes and biting into their lip to suppress a groan. The ache subsides agonisingly slow.

"I know. That's the point, darling," Supervillain smiles, forcing them to meet his gaze with a finger under their chin. "The worse, the better."

The heroes nod, trying to muster up a sliver of courage. They don't manage, because their friend is the first to speak. 

"Stop! Please. Please, stop now," they plead, coming to their knees next to Supervillain, his brother still in their arms. "Here. He's safe. Still sleeping." 

Supervillain stares at them for a moment, considering his following words. "I won't end them. Solely for you." 

The hero's shoulders drop in relief, waiting for Supervillain to pull his glove on before passing his brother to him. 

"Will they... will they be okay?" They ask, concern lacing their tone. Supervillain nods shortly, and the hero almost smiles. "Thank you."

"Now you know why no one dares to cross me." Supervillain informs, clutching his brother to his chest as he stands. "I advise to make use of that knowledge."

With that, Supervillain walks away, leaving the hero to tend to his injured friends while he carries his brother back home.

Supervillain knows this won't be the end of it. He knows a new group of shockingly young heroes will be sent after him sooner that these can heal. He knows they are nothing but brainwashed martyrs.

He also knows the only way of stopping this madness is chopping off the head of the snake.

A/N: Hi! First and foremost, thank you so much for this request! My mind was reeling when I first read it. Never say sorry for requesting, I love doing your requests! This one was extremely inspiring, as always, so... thank you for sharing your amazing mind 💛✨️ I'm not entirely happy with the way this turned out, but I still hope you'll enjoy reading this.

Love you, guys :)

xo Sunny

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[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Hey! Hope your having a good day! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?

Sure. Do you mind if we stop for ice cream?

*

A Taste of Revenge

“You’ll never get away with this!” yelled one of the three Heroes from afar.

Supervillain smiled and just waved at them while flames and energy beams hit his forcefield without leaving a scratch. It was, in fact, the third time this month he was getting away with this.

The heroes were all new, of course. The town was too little for the closest hero agency to care about what was happening here, so they’d only sent their three youngest. Sometimes they popped in while he was minding his business. They always thought they’d found a way to break through his defenses, and were always wrong. He didn’t care much, amused by these three overgrown teenagers who were looking equally embarrassed and proud of their muscles, trying to speak loud to cover their awkwardness. There was no use hurting them. The hero agency would have sent someone competent in their place. If Supervillain was only mildly inconvenienced by them, and they were convinced to gloriously fight against evil, everyone was happy.

It was sunset. There was no time to sleep before another night’s work, but enough to take a break. Supervillain went home, put his citizen clothes on, called his cat who jumped on his shoulders, and went in his favorite ice cream shop. Coincidentally, it had a magnificent view on the shiny new heroes headquarters.

The door bell rang. The shop owner raised her head and smiled at him. He was a usual customer.

“Hello, Citizen.”

“Hello, sir. Hello to you two,” she added, nodding politely to his pet.

Supervillain smiled in return. To make sure he wouldn’t be ever recognized, he’d gotten a cat. Mister Whiskers was more than happy to follow him in his ice cream adventures, especially since Supervillain was the one who walked for them both. People asked to pet the kitty sometimes, but never gave his face a second glance.

“What will you take, sir?”

Supervillain pondered for a moment, answering then:

“When I was eight, my mother took me to see the ocean for the first time. I want three scoops of that memory flavor in a cup, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

She took a cup that she filled three times with white ice cream, then gently set her opened palms over it and closed her eyes. The scoops changed into a lovely turquoise. Mister Whiskers mewed with anticipation, opening and closing his mouth.

“And for the cat?”

“A kid scoop of Oyster-Caviar, lactose-free.”

She gave his orders to him. Supervillain thanked her and settled in his usual corner. While Mister Whiskers ate his own treat like he hadn’t already eaten thrice today, Supervillain took his time, glazing by the window. For the Heroes headquarters, it was the end of the day. Secretaries were pouring down the establishment. He looked at them with interest, wondering how many people was needed to manage three baby heroes. Sometimes they went in the ice cream shop, looking harassed, not giving him a second look. They never stayed long. It was just enough for him to memorize their faces and note their schedules.

Supervillain bit his lip to hide his smile when he saw the Heroic Trio getting out of the agency, their faces crumpled. Every time he saw them by the window, he wondered what would happen if they were coming here. Today, he realized that he was going to find out. After pausing, all three opened the door and went into the line that had been forming.

Supervillain took a spoonful of ice cream. It melted on his mouth as lightly as foam. It was a flavor of pure joy, with an aftertaste of melancholy. These holidays had not lasted long. Why rush his break, then? He was more than convinced that he wouldn’t get noticed, and if he was, well, that was too bad for the customers. Most of them didn’t linger anyway. They thanked Citizen and went out, hastily eating out outside, maybe because the Heroic Trio grumbled louder and louder about the wait. The line went down quickly until the moment a little boy asked for a cone.

“I can make all the flavors you want in the world, young man,” said Citizen. “Every memory, every feeling, every object, the weather, time itself, everything has a taste.”

The little boy thought long and hard, reading out loud the suggestions. After fifteen minutes, he made his choice:

“Chocolate.”

Ignoring the loud groans behind, he was about to merrily go out, when one of the heroes caught him by the shirt:

“You haven’t paid, kid.”

“She gives it to me for free,” explained the boy, pointing at Citizen.

“Really? Why is that?”

The kid shrugged, licking his cone.

“Sometimes, I do the dishes.”

“He’s right,” intervened the shop owner. “He’s done nothing wrong, let him go.”

Hero released the kid, who went away trotting and licking his prize, and turned back to the owner with a frowning face:

“What sort of business are you running here?”

Citizen raised an eyebrow:

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you see these suits, ma’am?”

“Well, yes-”

“That means we’re heroes. He-roes, you understand? We protect you all day, putting our lives in danger for you. We’ve just escaped the most dangerous criminal of this town. We’d like to give us a little respect.”

“But I didn’t-”

“You made us wait to indulge a kid who can take anything he wants? It’s bad business practice. Terrible, even. How can you make profits like that? It’s a wonder this shop is still open.”

The three heroes towering over her, the woman tried to look at Supervillain, the only customer remaining, but he avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to blow his cover for that. Furthermore, Mister Whiskers had finished his cup and was now interested in Supervillain’s ice cream. He put it away, but as he avoided the cat’s insistent paws, he was still listening to the conversation, quietly readjusting his perception of his self-proclaimed foes. Kids they were, but bullies are of every age. He heard them making their choice (one Nova scoop, two Oncoming Storm scoops, one First Prize cup), and refusing to pay.

“ If you give free food to the bloody kid, I think you can afford to give us a free pass, too.”

The shop owner made the effort to laugh, throwing her red braid off her shoulder.

“You have a good sense of humor,” she said politely.

“I’m not joking.”

Ah, thought Supervillain, there you go. Citizen raised her tone, but they laughed at her:

“What are you going to do, use your power?”

“That’s not our fault if all you can do is ice-cream flavor', said another. “I’m sorry you can’t be a Hero, but not everyone is born equal, don’t take it on us.”

Supervillain stared at his blue ice cream melting, waiting for the shop seller to burst in tears and give in. That didn’t happen. Instead, she clenched her fists and said:

“I am more useful than you.”

The booming laughter of the Heroic trio filled the room, but the shop owner was fed up. She hit the counter with her little hand and yelled, covering their voices:

“I feed children who are hungry. I give people the taste of things they’ve forgotten and can’t have otherwise. I give people shelter when they need it. You’ve just set foot in the neighborhood and do nothing but cause property damage. I am the better Hero. Now get out of my shop.”

The laughs died out. With a stony face, one of the heroes went behind the counter, pushing her away, and took their orders by force.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

The doorbell rang when they left. A heavy silence fell.

The shop seller rocked slightly on her heels, burying her face in her hands. Supervillain looked at her, then at his now melted ice cream. His mom had offered him to see the ocean to cheer him up. He remembered why, too. Because of the day before. A school day. A bitter taste in his mouth. The wall behind his back. Kids with frowning looks and mocking smiles.

“Forcefield is not even a real power.”

“You’re so uncool.”

“What can you do, uh? Hiding like the coward you are?”

Supervillain sighed, shaking his head. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

He stood up, holding out a handkerchief to the ice cream seller. She took it without looking at him. While she blew her nose, he turned his eyes towards the Hero headquarters, looking at the Heroic Trio walking away.

“They’re kids,” he said. “They don’t know a lot of things.”

“That doesn’t give them an excuse to-”

“I know. They have no respect for powers that aren’t flashy enough for them. They’re the kind of people thinking that forcefields are for defense only.”

He smiled. All the windows on the first floor of the Hero headquarters exploded.

People screamed in the streets. The Heroic Trio came back running despite the glass shards flying, trying to localize the culprit.

“They have no imagination,” he explained pleasantly at the shop owner, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes. “They don’t know how impenetrable shields that can be projected from everywhere could be used otherwise.”

He glanced at the building now cut in two, shaking his head:

“I mean, how can they realize that this kind of shield could pierce any matter like a knife through hot butter?”

The heroes wanted to rush towards the headquarters, but bounced back. The forceshield was now covering the whole building, slightly buzzing. It didn’t stop there. It got tighter and tighter until the walls cracked and collapsed under the pressure.

“People inside-” squeaked Citizen.

“It’s the end of the day, my dear.”

The heroic trio was running around, getting people away, swearing and not knowing what to do. The forcefield didn’t vanish until the building was in ruins. Only then Supervillain turned towards the show owner. She flinched hard, but he only pulled out his wallet.

“Now, how much do we owe you?”

*

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[whumble-beeee]

Yur Gonna Get Murdalated, Rookie

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 15.5

Content: adult character perceived as a minor, kidnapping/captivity, noncon drugging, guns, recreational drug use, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The Law Enforcement Policy Handbook, Chapter X: Superhumans

[Officers of the law have the right to ask any civilian to show their upper right arm to verify whether or not the civilian bears the ‘General Super Brand’. If the civilian does possess such a marking, they are superhuman; the officer has the right to use whatever superhuman training they may possess. 

If the brand indicates that the superhuman is also a ‘Latent Supervillain,’ ‘Supervillain,’ or Test Subject,’ the officer is also compelled to check the superhuman’s upper right shoulder blade for the ‘Hazardous Super Brand,’ colloquially known as ‘The Villain Brand.’ Depending on the contents of the brand, the officer may be required to arrest or otherwise subdue the superhuman. They are advised to use their best judgment to subdue the superhuman or hide and call for backup.]

* * * * * * * *

The night was peaceful. Boring, even. The type of night where you’d wanna just sit back and smoke a cigar in the amber-dusking twilight that spilled through the half-closed blinds of your office. It’s filled to bursting with old bookshelves sworn by the tests of time, a single chair for you to sit in as you work, and a sprawling, book-laden red oak wood desk, surrounded on all sides by stacks and stacks of notes, files, crucial evidence about your latest case. The scent of cigars burns your nose. You’re so close to a breakthrough, you could just about taste it on the tip of your tongue, You would find it, you always did, and you could feel it now, edging ever closer after a tirelessly rewarding and sleepless night.

And yet here Officer Kalis Brooks sat instead, bored out of her skull watching some dinky ass highway that was lucky if a car graced its beaten roads once every twenty minutes. 

If only she were a film noir detective. Truly an unfair life she led.

It was a suspicious sort of fellow she finally spotted slowly making his way down the highway. A scoundrel who wore a bandana over the lower half of his face.

A person with something to hide.

Of course, she pulled him over. Simply her duty as an officer of the law.

She approached the truck and rapped lightly on the driver’s side window, and it rolled down with a gentle whirr. She shined her flashlight into the vehicle, and the view to greet her was almost something of a–

Holy shit.

The driver sat there, lazily gripping the steering wheel, looking like some sort of modernized pseudo-cowboy with a buncha scary lookin’ gadgets. A burn scar ran all the way up the side of his face, down his neck, and reappeared on his arm where his leather jacket rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were dilated, every movement markedly relaxed. Disjointed. Uncanny even. 

He was definitely high. But at least he’d had the forethought to take off that bandana concealing his identity. That was a good thing, right?

Then her jaw nearly dropped when she registered the passenger. He didn’t even look at her, his gaze stiff and unseeing. Very obviously also high on some sort of drug, though Kalis reckoned this high was less than consensual. Not to mention the super-power suppression collar wrapped around his neck. 

He was a super. 

She wasn’t trained to handle cases like this. Was this a super kidnapping in progress?! Something more?

Shit, no time for film noir roleplay bullshit, this is serious.

This is a villain.

Her gaze snapped back to the driver, just as her hand unclipped the gun holstered at her hip.

“Sir, please step out of the car slowly with your hands up. You’re being detained under suspicion of committing an in-progress felony.”

The driver’s gaze immediately shot to his passenger. “Officer, there uh… seems to be a misunderstanding–”

“Step out of the car or I’ll have you arrested for disobeying an officer of the law.”

That got his attention. The driver blew his bangs out of his face with a slow, deep sigh, and equally slowly reached down to open the door. The metallic creak of the door swinging open was almost deafening in the moonlit night. 

“I should mention I have a gun holstered on my belt,” he drawled inattentively, boots crunching the sparse gravel scattered across the shoulder of the highway. His arms stayed firmly raised, thankfully. “A revolver. Left side.” 

“Thank you for informing me,” Officer Brooks said quickly. This man seemed to be an easy-going fella, thankfully, but air around him stank of danger, like the haze of the walking dead. She slipped the ornately decorated gun out of its holster and slapped all the bullets to the roadway with 6 distinctly clean clinks. Then triple-checked that the safety was on. Then a fourth time. The matching knife too, for good measure. 

“I’d like to ask you some questions,” she stated, barely halting her transatlantic accent from slipping through. Stop it with the film noir. “Show me your upper right arm, please.”

He sighed, then nodded, then struggled to push up the leather sleeves of his jacket enough to show her the clear absence of a super brand. 

Good, one less thing to worry about. Not a supervillain.

“Alright then, what’s going on with that boy in the truck, friend?”

“Nothin’ much. That’s Stan. He’s my ward.”

“Your ward?”

“Yuh. I have custody over him. He’s a test subject.”

“Really?” She said, voice full of faux intrigue.

“Really.”

“And who are you, exactly?”

“Handler, of sorts. A bounty hunter. I work with the police sometimes, actually, we have an arrangement.”

“Oh? An arrangement?” she asked, as if daring him to tell her all the illegal dealings he held in his hidden hand of cards.

He just shrugged.

Ugh, she hated these types.

 “Fine. You have any proof?”

“Think I left my bounty huntin’ papers in my other pants,” he quipped. “Check the kid's villain brand, call in my ID, talk to your boss. Should be proof enough.”

That was absolutely not how that worked. Though she did feel a slight vindication in her chest that she would actually probably arrest this man.

“You have your ID on you?”

“Mhm.” 

He flicked out his ID between forefinger and middle to the officer, seemingly plucking it from thin air before she snatched it out of his hand, noting every piece of identifying information, checking for signs of a fake. Nothing seemed to be out of order… Had he really just handed her his real ID?

“And you said something about the boy having a villain brand?”

The man– Declan Cansano, so said the ID– nodded. Then rolled his damn eyes.

“Oh, I'm sorry, am I boring you?” She smiled sarcastically. “Need I make it obvious that you are suspected of kidnapping?” 

“I just have somewhere to be. It’s late. If you’d call in to ask about–”

“Are you telling me how to do my job?”

“No ma'am, I'm sayin’ you'd save yourself a lot–”

“Well stop ‘sayin'’ or I'll be ‘sayin’’ that you resisted arrest when I’m writing up your arrest report. This way.” 

She had to keep from grabbing his arm and yanking him as she led him over to her cruiser and deposited him near the passenger side door. Only after ordering him to turn around so she could cuff him behind his back of course.

“Stay here until I come back,” she ordered. “And remember that running from a uniformed officer is a criminal offense.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he lulled back, almost sing-songy while leaning nonchalantly against the car. “Keep an eye on the kid, he's the type you’d have to worry about.”

Because you kidnapped him? God, she couldn't wait to throw the book at that man. 

Kalis pressed the talk button on the radio clipped to her shoulder. “Officer Brooks reporting, I have a man pulled over here named Declan Cansano, roughly 6 and a half feet tall, blond, possibly… Latino? I have him detained for suspected kidnapping of the boy he has with him, a white brown-haired male, very battered and bruised and likely drugged who looks to be about… sixteen-ish? The man claims the boy is a super with villain status, and that he has jurisdiction over him as a ‘handler’ or ‘bounty hunter’ or something. Can you look him up for me?”

There was a moment of silence, then the radio crackled to life. “Report received, I'll look into a ‘Declan Cansano’ for you real quick. Do you have a name for the white male I can look into as well?”

“Not yet, I’m going to check that out now and get back to you shortly.”

“Wait,” A third voice interupted, familiar in just the right way to make Kalis’ heart flutter in her chest. Officer Frida Galleta. Her mentor, her favorite person on the force, one of the people she trusted most in this world. And… well, it didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes as well. “Brooks, did I hear you right? You said last name Cansano?”

Just as fast as it had soared, her heart dropped like a stone in a vacuum. She’d never heard that tone from Frida before. “I– I– Uh... yes. Why?”

“Oh god, I… Brooks, don’t engage with him– Look, I’m gonna call you on your personal cell–”

“Wait, Frida, what do you mean ‘don’t engage with him?’ I have him detained, I can’t not engage with him.”

“Officers, please keep small talk to a minimum over the radio,” Dispatch interrupted. “Officer Brooks, I couldn’t find anything on a ‘Declan Cansano’ anywhere, not the super or villain database, the criminal database, the employee database. But uh… to Officer Galleta’s point, if he said he’s a bounty hunter... Well, let’s just say you might wanna follow up with the chief about that before you make any decisions. They might have some sort of arrangement, so to speak.”

Arrangement…? Like a… Like…

Officer Brooks smelled the stinking injustice of a rat.

“Co–... Come again, dispatch?” she breathed into the radio.

“No!” Officer Galleta’s voice interrupted. “Dispatch, I’l’-I’lll handle this, no need to get the higher-ups involved. Please.” 

Then her phone rang. Officer Galleta’s beautiful profile photo graced her periphery as she pulled out the phone and promptly sent the call straight to voicemail, eyes straight ahead and staring into the pitch-black night. At the car that a captive was waiting for her in.

“Kalis, please answer your phone,” Galleta pleaded.

Officer Brooks silenced her radio, that wretched squeal, and started toward crime scene in the making.

It was a pig-filled world out there. She wouldn’t stand idly by as they made the entire world their mud pit.

Her phone rang again.

A single deep breath to steel her razor-sharp wit, then slammed open the passenger side door, preparing for the occupant to do anything from attacking like a spit-fire to running for the hills to grasping onto her and holding her close as the first friendly face this boy had seen in years.

Somehow, she didn’t expect the boy inside to startle and struggle, legs scrambling and weakly kicking at her to put distance between them. He leaned precariously back on the console of the car, shaking as if he were in hell when it finally froze over, and only then did she realize his hands were restrained behind his back.

Now that she wasn’t looking at him over the angry presence of a kidnapper, she could see clearly now that her first impression of him was so very wrong; He was so much worse off than she could have imagined. Deep-set dark circles under his eyes, so many bruises lining his skin, specks of dried blood flakes dotting his body, cuts caked with disgusting oozing brown, eyes dilated and bloodshot, angry red welts peaking out from under the power-suppressing collar that only could have been from being yanked around or choked, and dried blood-stains that drip-drip-dripped down the front of his oversized white t-shirt.

Her face went ashen at the ghastly scene. What had that man done?

Her phone rang once more. She muted it. It still buzzed in her pocket.

“Hi,” she started slowly. Her voice cracked slightly. “My name is Officer Brooks, or Kalis. I'm here to help you. What's your name?”

He simply returned her a wide-eyed stare. Then glanced over to her cruiser. At the man leaning on it. Then at her badge. Then down to his lap, not a single word uttered.

The phone buzzed with another call.

“It's alright,” she soothed, like a mother beckoning a lost child home. “He can't hurt you right now. I'm here to help you, but I need you to talk to me or else I can't help you. I need to know your name. It’s Stan, right? Stan? That’s what I heard from him.”

He looked up, staring into her as if she wasn't even there again, eyes so wide, so dilated. No words. He frowned, considering for a moment. Then a vindictive determination spread across his features and he moved his gaze right back to his lap.

“Alright, that's uh… that's alright.” She felt like a kindergarten teacher with the way she was talking. Her phone buzzed with yet another call. “Can I… can I at least see the super brand on your back? Can you do that for me, Stan?”

He jolted back. “No.”

More phone buzzing. Adrenaline surged in her chest. “Stan, please. I can't get you back to your family if I can't find out who you are.”

“... fam–... family?...” His eyes widened, pupils somehow blown even wider, unfocused into the middle distance.

“Yes, Stan.” She very carefully reached for the collar of his shirt, ready to pull back at any time. The boy didn’t react. “I just want to get you back to your family.”

Kalis pulled the shirt down just enough to reveal that awful blue of the villain brand. The blue that signified a test subject.

Shit, the bounty hunter had been telling the truth.

The phone buzzed once more. Kalis snatched it out of her pocket. Turning around swiftly so Stan wouldn’t think what was about to happen next was directed at him.

“What do you want?” She hissed. “I’m trying to talk to a kidnapping victim.”

“Oh thank god, you’re alright,” Frida's tinny voice came through the speaker.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I– Look, Kalis, I know this sounds bad, but I need you to let the bounty hunter go. Now.”

Officer Brooks grit her teeth. This was exactly what she was afraid of. “Why.”

“He’s… look, alright, I’m surprised no one told you before, but the police have a sort of… deal… with certain criminals and organizations. Mr. Cansano is one of them–”

“So you’re a dirty cop, then?” Kalis interrupted, voice strained, chest tight. “And– and you’re trying to bring me down with you, now? Frida, I–...  You should see what he’s done to this captive. I can't let him go.”

"I’m not a dirty cop! Not the way you’re thinking at least, I– just trust me, I can't even say over the phone but I'm on my way and I’ll tell you when I get there, I swear. Please don't do anything, for both our sakes.I know him, he's–”

“You know him?!”

“Yes, he’s–”

“How do you know him?!”

“Kalis. Listen to me.” Her voice turned deathly serious. “He's got ties everywhere. Hell, he does jobs for the police sometimes, they won't protect you if you get in trouble. He might try to kill you, and even if he doesn't and you get him arrested, now you have a target on your back from both the mob AND the corrupt police. If you try to arrest him, you're going to die. Please just leave him alone. Please."

She grit her teeth. “So that means he doesn't have any… official paperwork to prove he has authority over the super?”

“I– uh… probably not? They don't work within the law, that's why you need to let him go.”

Well then…

That’s all she needed to hear.

“I’m arresting him.”

“No! No, Khalis, I'm on my way, I'll-I’ll be two minutes, just wait–”

She slammed her phone down and turned back around to Stan, only then realizing that the poor boy probably heard everything she just said–

Nope, he was off in his own little world again.

“Stan?...”

No response.

She waved her hand in front of his face. “Stan!”

He startled back to himself, terrified, scrambling to get away from her just like the first time she'd walked up to him.

She didn't have time for this.

“Stan, honey, I'm going to arrest the man who hurt you alright? He won't hurt you anymore. I have to leave now, but one of my friends will be here very soon. She'll help you out, alright? Everything will be alright. Just please stay here. Hopefully I'll see you soon.”

Officer Brooks closed the door of the truck before she could catch a reaction, hoping that ditching Stan to be found by Officer Galleta was the best choice here.

It had to be, it was the only choice.

She steeled herself, resting her hand on her gun once more, and walked back over through the oppressive black night and into the spotlighting brights of her police car. 

To face down the bounty hunter.

“Mr. Cansano, you're–...” 

Then all of her built-up courage suddenly burst. What the hell was–...

She gaped.

Then scoffed.

Really?

“Are–… are you… smoking a blunt right now?”

The bounty hunter’s hand withdrew from his mouth, followed by a puff of dark white smoke. His gaze never once broke from the bright dot of red-yellow ash that oh-so-subtly lit his face. “Yup.”

She just stared at him for a moment. Then shook her head out. Whatever.

“Mr. Cansano, you're under arrest for suspected kidnapping of a super and illegal bounty hunting.” He didn’t so much as blink. “You have the right to remain silent, as anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you.” Crickets chirped somewhere in the forest sidelining them. “Do you understand these rights as I’ve spoken them to you?”

He didn’t move in the slightest through her whole spiel. He almost seemed to have paused time around him, actually, a frozen snapshot.

A pause as Kalis stood ready to arrest a few feet away, yet unable to move closer as the air turned sticky with his low chuckle.

A pause because, only then, did Kalis realize that when she last left the man, she'd left him in handcuffs.

The bounty hunter shoved the burning tip of the blunt into the metal siding of her cruiser, instantly extinguishing the bright ember. “You talked to your boss?”

She clutched her gun. “I've been made aware of the situation.”

“Brave one, you are.”

He pushed up out of his lean. She whipped out her gun and aimed it squarely at his chest. “Freeze.”

He stopped, staring at her gun hand, eyes narrowed, hands shooting up to show he wasn’t a threat.

Yeah right.

Police sirens in the distance. Couldn’t be anyone but Frida.

“Put your hands on the car. Slowly.”

He looked her up and down. It was funny, his eyes almost looked red, with the way the headlights shined off his eyes.

“Hands on the car.”

The hunter almost seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he laughed, pulled his bandana up over his face, and took a step forward. 

Her vision tunneled, heart pounding in her ears. All she had to do was pull the trigger.

“Shame,” he drawled. Now he had… a string? A metal string, the type used to cut clay. Held taut between his hands. “I’ll try not to make this hurt, youu seem lie one of the good ones.”

Kalis’s gun hand shook. She should shoot him. She’d never shot anyone before. Shoot him. Shoot him. In the chest, in the leg, somewhere, shoot him, shoot him, you’re going to die shoot him shoot him do it fucking SHOOT HIM–

Her finger squeezed the trigger as he lunged forward, a flash of light, everything bright white and hot and blinding as a loud CRACK split through her eardrums, her very skull. Her gun arm knocked to the side, the gun flew from her hands. Her only chance at defending herself disappeared somewhere into the inky black night.

Suddenly she was staring right into his dark brown eyes that seemed to gleam red. His hands slammed just short on either side of her neck, the wire held gingerly between them pressing into the hard muscle of her larynx.

Just the two of them. 

The crickets, the trees.

The stars, shining above so sweetly.

Her last witnesses.

She was going to die here.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered, a low grumble that reverberated her entire soul. She couldn’t look away from those blood-red eyes. Would her blood be added to that as well?

A deafening screech of tires.

His brow furrowed, gaze stuttering elsewhere. A new set of headlights spotlighted them like startled deer, two omens of death and justice heading straight for them, night turned into a shining white day. 

 Brighter, brighter.

“Holy shit,” the bounty hunter yelled. Low engine revs turned into deafening roars that wholly swallowed any screams that ripped from Kalis’ or Declan’s throats, right before a hand yanked off her feet, just barely heaved over the hood of the car and tumbling jarringonto the ground next to the man who had apparently saved them both as a giant mass of immoveable flashing red and blue and black and white metal screeched past them as it attempted to grind to a stuttering halt before flying into the ditch that sidelined the highway.

Kalis slammed into the ground.

The world spun around her.

Frida.

Frida.

Ow, FUCK–

What’s–

It was Frida!

She was saved!

Or wait, was Frida trying to kill her now?

Why had the bounty hunter saved her, were they on the same side now?

What was happening?!

The door of the cop car flew open before the car even fully screeched to a halt, and there she stood in all of her gorgeous, life-saving, terrified and anger-filled glory, pointing her gun over the top of her cop car right at the man in the cowboy hat sprawled dazed on the ground next to her.

“DECLAN CANSANO, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

* * * * * * * *

Next

Also linking this rq for anyone who didn't see bc I think I'm hilarious

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[saltydumplings]

Prompt #41

"I wonder what poor soul Supervillain has picked out this year," the thief mused, inspecting the silverware that was laid out neatly before them with some interest before quickly pocketing it.

The villain sputtered a little at their friend's recklessness, spilling wine on their hand as they hastily put down their glass. "You are going to get us thrown out," they hissed.

"So?" The thief shrugged carelessly, gesturing off towards the stage. "It's the same thing every year: they take some rookie wannabe off the street and show them what the consequences of the hero business is really like. Then Supervillain parades them around as their little trophy until they get bored. I doubt we'd be missing anything."

The villain scoffed. "Anything but our lives," they grumbled. "It's a social event. It's about showing allyship--"

"Allyship or allegiance?"

A beat.

The villain didn't have a comment for that. And thankfully the thief didn't have time to pressure them into making one, the stage curtains pulling aside and the room settling into silence as a figure was hauled into the spotlight. Hands bound behind them and a bag over their head, the henchman that held them up quickly forcing them to their knees.

"Here we go again..." the thief murmured.

The villain paid them no mind, instead focusing their attention forward to where the bag was being pulled back over the captive's face, revealing--

They could have choked. Could have cried out in a panic but they pressed their lips together tightly instead - knuckles turning white as they gripped the table before them, willing themself not to move.

It was no rookie that the supervillain had caught: it was the hero.

Their hero...

[kairiscorner]

the confounding case of dr. o'hara. — miguel o'hara x gnreader

✧ summary: your first ever real patient out in the field as a criminal psychologist, and it's the recently caught supervillain, dr. miguel o'hara; a disgraced genius geneticist that supposedly went insane after a freak accident that not only worsened his hunger for rapture, but also turned him into a horrifying spider mutant. you had to be wary around him, anything you could tell him could make him try something risky... but what he wants with you now that he's gotten a whiff of you and your scent is something far more than just risky... he wants your life, but not to take it, but rather, for you to willingly submit yourself to him and only him. ✧ pairing: miguel o'hara x criminal psychologist!reader ✧ genre: (honestly idk, it's not fully fluff but not fully angst nor comfort either ... ? tis just a guilty pleasure fic ig !) ✧ author's note: this is inspired by the lovely kimmy's art on twt !! I'M SORRY, IDK MUCH ABOUT THE DETAILS ON DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE, I DIDN'T WANNA BUTCHER ANYTHING AND I HOPE I DIDN'T !! i mixed some traits between joker, gomez addams, and some elements of the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde ! ... i hope y'all like this :'DDD AND I'M SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY SPANISH FGIRUFBUIRBIURTB google translate is all i got .......

i. the scent of honey and a vision of an angel.

pages and leaflets of the mountains of cases against this man successfully made you shiver at the sound of his name–you couldn't believe just how little remorse he had for every crime he had ever committed written down in these records, it was like being in the scenes of a true crime documentary; it didn't feel real that you were going to speak to the very man himself and see just why he committed all those crimes... and why he could only smile at the thought of wreaking so much havoc. you took in a deep breath and walked into the hall where his cell was in, taking cautious steps as you heard the leaking of pipes and the dripping of water accumulating into puddles the further down the hall you entered.

you had no idea why, as a rookie, your first patient would have to be a criminal mastermind—but you needed all the experience you could get, not many people in your field at your level of expertise get the chance to talk to high-profile criminals like him; and you were far more professional and knowledgeable at your job compared to your colleagues in the academy; surely this wouldn't be too bad... right? well, the minute you saw the light coming from his cell, you were greeted to the sight of a hunched over man, sitting quietly at the center of the room with his back turned to the glass in front of you. you gently tapped at the glass, but that didn't catch his attention. "i know you can hear me." you spoke as you tried to get him to turn around again, but he still didn't budge. you rolled your eyes and sat down on a chair across from his cell; preparing to ask him questions that he probably won't even answer.

you introduced yourself as a freshly graduated criminal psychologist from nueva york university, you hoped he would cooperate with you and give you reasons as to why he committed his crimes, explaining to him that he could get a much more lenient punishment if he could explain his side of the story as to why such a once well-respected man had spiraled into such a morbid life of crime. you heard a low chuckle rumble from the other side of the glass, and that low rumble became more audible, all the way until he was cackling loudly; the sounds reverberating throughout the rubber-padded white walls and rang throughout the glass. the cackling soon faltered out and ceased, you felt the hairs on your body stand up as you heard every octave of his maniacal laughter–you'd think that years of case studies and witnessing firsthand from your mentors that dealing with people like him wouldn't be too challenging or disturbing, but this experience proved you to be wrong, so terribly wrong.

as the laughter died down, the corner of the man's smile showed from behind his long, shaggy unkempt wispy hair; and when he turned around to face you, you saw that his eyes were a dark shade, they were bloodshot and crimson, they were deathly, and you knew he was far more dangerous than any other criminal could contend with. the man grimaced and slowly creeped his head around over his shoulder to get a good look at you. his body followed suit and gradually turned to face you, the brown restraints on his white, yet stained, straightjacket made him look both pitiful and dangerous all at once. suddenly, the man slowly got up and wobbled over to you–it was as though he had gone days, maybe weeks, without walking; could he have stayed in that position this whole time before you came to see him?

the man's gaze was bearing into your own, his eyes not leaving yours as his grimace widened; the corners of his smile reaching his ears as he chuckled every now and then in a delusional daze. his chin and cheeks were dotted with stubbles and hints of fuzz and a beard–he had gone days without shaving, either, it seemed. he pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at you, and only then were you able to understand how big he was; about 200 centimeters and counting, and yet, he was able to be restrained... he was frightening, and he knew you thought that of him.

"...miel..." the sound escaped his lips, the first word he spoke in a long while. you looked up at him in fear and gulped, writing down what you heard. "...w-what?" you asked him, hoping he'd repeat the word. the man's grin widened creepily as he slowly opened his mouth to speak again, and a dribble of saliva dripped down his chin as he stared at you, hungrily, like a starved predator cornering its prey. "miel, mi cariño, it's... honey, sweet as... shocking honey, making me hungry..." he murmured out, hid constant breathing fogging up the glass. you moved your chair back a little and cleared your throat, making miguel press his face against the glass even further as you moved away from him. he thumped his forehead against the glass, making you jolt a little and look at him. he stared at you from underneath his eyelashes and smirked widely.

"don't... don't escape me, mi tesoro... c'mon, it's been... too damn long since i've had such a pretty little thing come here and look so shocking ravishing–" he gushed and mumbled as his breath quickened and his smile got even wider, but seeing as how uncomfortable and tense he made you, he, surprisingly, quit that and moved away a little from the glass. he hung his head in what appeared to be frustration, and mumbled in a hused tone, "ah, quiero arrancarte esa blusa... but i can tell..." he whispered as he sat down closely to the glass and leaned his head forward, looking at you with a sly grin. "you don't like men who are that straightforward, do you?" he asked you as he watched every little move and twitch your body made, sinking in all the details about you as he muttered to himself, twitching as well at your little responsive gestures that said more than words ever could help you articulate the feelings he was giving you right then and there.

he chuckled as he watched you restlessly fidget in your seat, darting your gaze away from him as much as you could. "you're so cute, mi amor... keep that up and i might just really break out of here, i finally have a reason to now that your pretty little face showed up." he said, gazing at you all... lovingly as he smiled the more you stuttered out the next thing you wanted to say. "...there is... literally nothing you'll get out of smooth talking me." you said defiantly as miguel chuckled aloud again, rocking himself back and forth in ecstasy. "you're not only cute, smart, and snarky, but a bad liar too... eso me excita, sabes?" he teased you as he stuck his tongue out, a couple of smuggled piercings on the tip of his tongue gleamed as he did so, making you a little more tense as before. he hummed to himself as he looked at you with an even more sultry, desperate look on his angled face. "you're like an angel... you'll be known as mi angel from now on, okay, mi ángel? keep visiting me more often, mi ángel, i need to be reminded miracles can happen... even to scum like me." he whispered as you looked away from him, making him whimper and beg for you to look at him in spanish and english.

"por favor no me hagas esperar… mírame, mi ángel..." he pleaded with you as he got on his knees and pouted, showing off his lower lip as he gave you such big, sad eyes that tried to convince you to look his way. though he tried to appear less menacing and pathetic, you knew this was just a front of his to get you to do something for him, maybe to get him out? to take his place for him? to... oh, you couldn't even jump to that conclusion, because there's no way that—

"i desperately need you, mi ángel... please, look my way, my little angel... come closer, i need to smell your... your honey-like scent again, it drives me crazy, crazy with love, mi ángel, you can't even imagine..." he begged of you, leaning his forehead against the glass again, sobbing audibly as you sighed. would you look him for a second time? would you kindly let him get a whiff of you again and crave for you? he would never hurt you if you did, of course not; angels aren't meant to be hurt, and you, his darling little angel, would never be hurt around him... he'll do everything to make sure you won't be, and no restraints will ever hold him back from getting his strong, toned arms around your beautiful body, around his little angel, once and for all.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce @oxrchd

[britishassistant]

Okay, going on with the Ultimate Villain Idea, Yuu eventually gets home pretty drained and each Villain boss separately has the idea to give Yuu a pamper day...only they can’t let their Villainous Reputation be tarnished, so they each “Kidnap” Yuu for a day.

Cue bad acting on from some of the sect members and them saying that this wasn’t planned. They just happen to see Yuu on the street. No the preprepared meals were just extras from dinner. No, Leona just so happened to kidnap Cheka and wasn’t because Cheka saw the news and was crying to see Yuu.

The only one who doesn’t “kidnap” Yuu is Malleus who is just shows up one day asking if they want to go for ice cream with the Diasomnia Sect. The public fears Malleus enough to assume it’s a hostage situation

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

Yuu wakes up the next day feeling drained, bruises on their arms and around their middle so deep they’re surprised the skin hasn’t broken overnight.

They’re wincing as they lever themselves up from the couch and as they pull on the softest button up they have, the loosest jeans that are still work appropriate. They cringe as they think about how much it’s going to cost to repair the wall in their bedroom, let alone clean all the rubble from their bed and floor. They hobble to the door gingerly, wishing not for the first time that they had more hours of sick leave to use.

They open it to see rookie minions (and Grim) from nearly all the supervillains across the city standing on their doorstep, clearly mid-whispered argument.

“Yuu.” Deuce says, disappointed puppy-dog eyes big and sad.

“I told you!” Ace insists, stabbing a finger in their direction. “I told you that the big lug wasn’t lyin’! This overcompensating moron—!”

“Yuu.” Epel says, disappointed puppy-dog eyes lethal.

“I don’t know what this is.” Yuu says as they try to close the door only to find Sebek’s foot now wedged in the jamb. They have a fire escape by the hole in their bedroom, it’ll hurt but they can head out that way. “So I’m just gonna go—”

“Yuu.” Jack rumbles, arms folded and one eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

Yuu meets his gaze with their chin held high, fighting the urge to curl in on themselves and just hurt.

“Were you about to go to work?”

“This is entrapment.” Yuu declares. “I don’t have to answer that.”

Sebek throws up his hands with a wordless shout of disgust. Jack pinches the bridge of his nose with a warning rumble. Epel’s puppy-dog stare grows exasperated and incredulous. Grim begins yowling and digs his claws into their jean leg. Deuce’s grows even bigger and sadder than before. Ace begins gesticulating at them so wildly they’re concerned he’s going to smack a hand or elbow on the wall, hollering all the while. Ortho lets out an upset whir and balls his little hands into fists.

“Bedrest is important for your convalescence, Yuu-san!” The robot protests. “The notes the doctor transcribed on your state were very clear on that!!”

“How do you have access to my medical information?!” Yuu demands, eyes narrowing when Ortho tries to hide behind Sebek. “And besides, that jerk left rubble all over my bed and my bedroom. Forgive me for not wanting to do much heavy lifting right now, but…”

“Where’d ya think yer goin’?!” Grim howls from their ankle, still attached to their person and dragged along when they try to retreat strategically. “Y’can’t go t’ the TV station like this, minion! That big boss guy’ll kill ya with overwork!”

“Tsk.”

“This settles it.” Sebek folds his arms across his chest in a way they really dislike. “It is clear Yuuken spoke the truth on these matters. FELMIER! SHROUD! Notify Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer of their roles, AT ONCE!!”

Yuu barely has time to process the betrayal by their partner (damn Yuuken and his concern for their wellbeing!) when Epel and Ortho both snap sharp salutes and cry “ROGER!” before darting off for the stairs.

“Their roles?” They lurch forward, stumbling over Grim’s weight on their ankle. “Wait, hold on—!”

“Oops!” Ace swoops in to hook one of their arms over his shoulders. “Seems I’ve captured a helpless reporter! Nothin’ to do except bring ‘em back to Royal Flush, right, Two of Spades?”

“R-right!” Deuce appears on their other side, taking their other arm and most of their weight to boot. “R-resistance is futile, reporter! Ah, but I’m not hurting you though, am I?”

“You’re doing fine Deuce.” Jack decrees. “Remember, don’t leave ‘em alone for long—the Prefect’s on our side on this, but those RSA bastards might still try to start shit if they do something stupid. Ruggie and I’ll be by later to grab ‘em for King.”

“I’ll show you stupid.” Yuu grumbles mutinously as they’re delicately and carefully frogmarched to the elevator.

Though still, they grant somewhat grudgingly, at least if they’ve been kidnapped they can’t be penalized for taking a day off. And Royal Flush, Tsunotaro, and Posion Queen do have some very comfortable couches and daybeds…

“For the record, I’m very much under duress here.” They announce to the two minions and Grim. “And I’m probably going to be only good for lying down and sleeping. Is that fine with you?”

There’s gentle squeezes on both of their hands and Grim’s purrs ease some of the aching in their leg.

[thepenultimateword]

What do you want to see/read more with heroes and villains?

Oooo love this question. There’s probably more than I can think of at the moment, but I’ll give you three that come to mind.

1. More villain x villain combos. I really love this pairing in all its forms (villain x villain, villain x supervillain, henchman x villain, henchman x henchman, etc.) and even though I think people gravitate towards the enemies to lovers of hero x villain, there’s something about two evil people in love that appeals to me. I think I dominate most of the villain x villain tag (at least from what I can see), and I’m always longing to see what other people would come up with.

2. Actually bad villains. I love fluffy villains too, but sometimes I think there’a not enough truly villainous villains. Villains who may fall in love with the hero, but don’t automatically transform into a good guy along the way. @arealphrooblem and @the-modern-typewriter are really good at making this type of villain, and I think it makes hero x villain dynamics much more intriguing.

3. Scary heroes. Especially scary heroes x rookie/low-level villains. I like the idea of heroes who are truly terrifying to the villains around them. That criminals flee from them. And to the city they are the best thing that ever happened, but to a villain they are a nightmare. I don’t think we see enough heroes who strike terror into the hearts of their enemies. And I just think the pairing of a villain who should be scared of them but is actually just enamored is fun.

[chaotic-orphan]

Master post of series:

{Slowly moving updated versions of these series to @macknus account, if you'd like to read updated versions :) [23/09/24]

All the links bring you to part one and the next parts are linked at the bottom of the post!

I will add the once off Whump drabbles overtime :)

Intoxicating fear

(Scared hero x telepath Villain) [male hero/villain]

Delirious villain x hero caretaker

Vendetta

(heroes vs villain war) [gen neutral, everyone]

Defiant Leader x confident villain

Supermax prison

(Supervillain and rookie guard) [gen neutral]

[There is only one part to supermax prison but it will be updated soon :) ]

Heroic betrayal

(hero betrayed by other hero) [female whumpee/male whumper(s)]

The stranger

(vigilante Whumpee) [male whumpee/whumper]

The immortal Hunter

(vampire whump) [male whumper/whumpees]

Villain’s gift

[Supervillain gives Villain a present for their birthday]

The hero and the infant

(grumpy hero x superhero sidekick)

Partners in Crime

(Charismatic Whumpee, goons and Powerful Whumper) [male whumpee/whumper]

A Benignant Mischief

(Fantasy found family, young elf outlaw captured by enemy kingsmen whose orders are to capture any elf for trial before the King/ hurt/comfort— ish, it’s giving fuzzy vibes) [male whumpees]

Twisted Love

{needs reconstruction, standalone piece for now}

(Hero lady Whumpee x villain male Whumper; creepy, intimate Whumper, absolutely zero consent, villain is a freak, be warned)

WHUMPTOBER 2024 👻

Febuwhump Masterpost

Hero/Villain Drabbles:

Cocky Hero to the rescue

Noble consequences

Suicidal hero my beloved [tw sui ideation]

Whump drabbles:

Recapture [gen neutral]

Choose me (whumper x whumpee/ forced to watch Caretaker beating)

That’s enough [gen neutral/male implied]

Supervillain's brand / Part (2) [team whump]

Guardian angel (cold caretaker rescues Whumpee) [gen.neutral]

Kidnapped [gen neutral whumpee]

Semantics (royal whump) [fem whumpee/male whumper]

Russian Roulette (whumpee plays whumper for Caretaker’s life)

Waterboarding (sweet, sweet team whump)

June of doom (JoD):

JoD Day nine: part one / part two / part three

( I intend to make this into a series I just forgot about it until today)