#tortured villain

[sunnynwanda]

Hellbent

Warning: descriptions of torture and past trauma, blood, gore, drugging, whipping/ flogging, drowning, suffocation, murder, death. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you. Certain scenes were inspired by "Deadly Class" (TV series), so it really is rough. Let me know if I missed anything.

Triumphant music pierces through the chill air, reaching their frozen ears. The roof is cold and windy, but it's the best position for what they have in mind. Villain perks up, adjusting the binoculars and zooming on the stage. Hero is to award a dickhead with the Best Dickhead of the Month Award, alternatively known as the Philanthropist of the Month. It's an award that is nothing but an ego boost and a way of sucking on the boot of the richer. The man who steps on the stage is no good, and Villain is not the only one who knows that. The whole event is nothing but a farce. Stealing a bunch and then donating barely even half of it for charity was a known method of avoiding legal responsibility while simultaneously getting praised on every corner.

The audience starts clapping and cheering, drawing Villain's attention back to the case at hand. They pick up their gun, aiming it at the dickhead's neck when Hero steps in front of him to shake hands, all the while blocking access. They move seconds later, and Villain uses the moment to shoot truth serum into the man's neck. Needless to say, his speech ended up being not what everyone expected. He gloats about his wealth, mocking everyone in attendance and the higher officials, not quite understanding why the words leave his mouth against his will.

The mayor gets on the stage, attempting to shut the man up and berating Hero for not reacting in due time. Hero does not reply, instead turning around to look precisely in Villain's direction with a stern expression. They don't say anything or move until the speaker is tackled and removed from the stage - thus, the event comes to an abrupt break.

With their position revealed - Villain moves, rushing to pack their stuff and escape the roof before Hero arrives. They are exhilarated by the success of the operation, which leads them to underestimate Hero's speed. They are met at the bottom of the staircase by a hand that stretches out of the corner. They collide with it at full speed, knocking the air out of their lungs.

Hero is seething. Villain knows how to put up a fight, but today seems more difficult than usual. They blame it on the suddenness of the attack and Hero being more unhinged than usual. They've never seen their enemy this aggravated. They are smacked against the ground, and before they can perceive what's happening, Hero is on top of them, gripping their throat as they inject something into Villain's neck. "What the fuck is that?"

Hero's smile is all teeth as they hold Villain down, waiting for the drugs to take effect. "You're becoming predictable."

Villain gapes at them, stunned at the realisation that the whole thing was a set-up. To get them. And they fell for the trap without so much as a thought. Their vision becomes blurry, Hero's face distorting into a flesh-coloured blob. Then, they are consumed by pitch-black shadows.

It's still dark in front of their eyes when Villain's senses return to them. They hear nothing but water dripping to their right and their own laboured breathing. They feel their pulse throbbing in their temples and attempt to look up despite the dull ache spreading from the back of their head down their spine. They soon discover that their arms are tied to the armrests of their chair with their palms up.

Villain blinks, struggling to pry their eyes open. There's no one in the room yet. They take a deep breath to steady their heartbeat and focus. They must be in the Hero headquarters, meaning their interrogators will arrive soon. Their eyes search the room, locating the security camera in the corner and waving at whoever is watching them. They are - by no means - confident, but Hero and their team have no business knowing that.

Several minutes later, the door screeches open, allowing Hero in. Villain throws their head back in an attempt to look unbothered. As if they are exactly where they had meant to be.

"Acting brave, are we?" Hero muses, not wasting any time when they pull out a leather belt, flogging Villain's palm. Villain groans, shutting their eyes for a moment before they fling open. Hero smacks them across the face, then whips their hands again. "Keep your eyes on me."

Villain makes it a point to look away, which earns them another slap against their cheek, this time with the belt. They feel blood fill their mouth, coating their lips upon contact with leather. They spit it to the ground, muttering under their nose when Hero lashes their palms again. Villain fails to keep their voice down this time, cursing out loud. "Motherfucker!"

Hero smiles at that, satisfied with the reaction. "Now we're talking. Tell me who you're working for."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Villain speaks through gritted teeth to keep in the whimpers that threaten to spill from their bloody lips.

"I see," Hero nods, seemingly taking the answer. "We have all the time in the world. You can scream all you want - no one will hear you. My team is guarding the event, and I get to play with you."

Hero continues their torture for what feels like hours. Villain has lost track of time somewhere between getting their thighs whipped into a bloody mess of fabric and open flesh and their mouth being taped closed as Hero carved a neat line across their eyebrow down to their cheek, careful to avoid the eye.

What came after was worse. 

Their lungs ache as their head is submerged into a water tank for god knows what time. Their hands flex, sending jolts of pain through their damaged fingers, but they can't move away, tied securely in place as Hero holds the back of their head.

Villain is about to black out when Hero grips their wet hair, twisting their fingers around the strands and tugging their head out of the pink-tinted water. "Are you going to tell me who you're working for now?"

Villain inhales sharply, water dripping out of their nose as they attempt to get in as much oxygen as possible. Their ears are ringing, their heart beating in their throat, but they hear Hero's question clear as day. "I do this alone."

"Bullshit," Hero cuts their answer short. "Who's your boss?"

"No one, I swear," Villain pants through the sentence, conscious to speak for as long as they can, to keep their head out of the water. "Even if you kill me, the answer's not gonna change."

"Oh, I won't kill you," Hero murmurs, slamming Villain's head against the back of the chair and detangling their fingers from their hair. They move the water tank to the side and turn Villain's chair around to face the screen behind them. "I can do much worse than that."

They press a button, and the screen buzzes to life, illuminating the room in warm hues. Villain's breath catches in their throat when their father's smiling face appears on the screen. Their lips barely move when they whisper. "Where did you get this?"

They freeze in anguish, unable to tear their eyes away from the video of their parents in a park, filming each other as they laugh at Villain's silly antics. They watch their eight-year-old self playing with soap bubbles. They shriek and giggle when their father picks them up, placing them on his shoulders, then their mother's laughter floods their ears, filling their eyes with unconscious tears.

"I know you lost them," Hero whispers, placing their heavy hand on their shoulder from behind. Villain catches a glimpse of the belt as it slings over their other shoulder. "It's a tragedy. A senseless tragedy."

Villain hears no compassion in their voice. A tear drips down Villain's cheek, and Hero's calloused finger wipes it away.

"It's life," Villain mutters, shaky as they turn from the screen. They almost lean into Hero's touch but come to their senses, fisting their hands so the pain can remind them where they are. "It's never fair."

"Yes, but the way they went was so brutal," Hero chimes in with diabolical pleasure. They grip Villain's head, forcing them to face the screen again and snarl. "Watch."

Pictures from the crime scene start flashing in front of Villain's eyes. Their father's body is tied to a chair, ropes cutting into his ripped skin from struggling when he was forced to watch his pregnant wife bleed out before they slit his throat open.

"No," Villain lets out a guttural growl, like a wounded animal thrashing in their chains, but Hero's hands are firm around their head. "No!" They shake in their chair, unable to contain the pain and rage fighting for dominance inside them. "You fucking bastard... No!"

"Watch!" Hero orders, pressing their wet lips to the shell of Villain's ear with a sinister smile full of satisfaction when Villain shudders at the contact. The leather belt falls from their shoulder into their lap. "They took them away from you to use you how they want. Your brother would be ten by now. Older than you were back then. They took him away from you. And yet you're covering for them?"

Tears stream freely down Villain's contorted face, dripping from their chin into their lap. The salt stings their open wounds, but they can't feel it. Their lips tremble, yet no sound escapes them when Hero caresses their face, running their thumb over Villain's bloodstained cheekbone in slow circles, too caught up in their act to take notice of the subtle movements of their captive's hands. Villain exhales, pressing their thumb against the wood of their chair and dislocating it so they can slip their blood-soaked hand free. They pull the same with their other hand before putting the joints back into the correct position - the pain serves a welcomed distraction.

"Tell me who they are. Tell me so I can help you avenge your family," Hero coos, still hugging Villain's head so they won't look away from the gory scene that never truly left their mind from the moment they stepped into their living room, having come from school to discover their entire family massacred.

"You want to know who did that?" Villain's voice is hardly above a whisper when they speak. Hero nods, blissfully oblivious to Villain's now free hands twisting their belt around their knuckles until it's tight. "Your father."

Before Hero can even process the words, the belt is wrapped around their neck, suffocating them. Villain drags them down to the ground, wrapping their legs around Hero's torso from behind to hold them down as they tighten their grip on the belt, choking the air out of their lungs.

"He wanted to take me and train me to be one of you. A hero. My parents said no. He though it was rude. That fucking animal!" Villain hisses. Hero wheezes, desperately clutching the belt around their neck. "I stuffed a mini grenade into his mouth and blew the bastard's throat open."

They lower their head to Hero's ear and bring their legs up to restrain their flailing arms. Hero's movements grow slower and weaker with every passing second. "But you knew that. You watched him squeal like a pig trying to pry the tape off his face. Yeah, I did that. He underestimated me."

"So did you." Villain jerks Hero's head to the side, snapping their neck, their body going limp on top of them. With a heavy sigh, they throw their head back, then push Hero's dead body off of them, rolling over and lifting themself to their knees.

Villain scrambles to their feet and glances back at Hero's lifeless body one last time. They have less than ten minutes to escape the facility, and even then, they won't manage to leave the city. But that was never part of the plan. Not until they've finished exacting their revenge. Not until the mayor chokes out a last breath under their fingers. Not until Villain gets to enjoy blood vessels exploding in their eyes. Not until they know Villain's agony. Not until their family may rest in peace.

Masterlist

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

[movedtodykedvonte]

*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*

Doc Ock, landing a hit: You’re getting slow Spider-Man! Age finally catching up to you?

Spider-Man: You wish! I haven’t even hit my 30s! From those costumes I can already tell I failed to save you guys from those midlife crises! Sorry by the way.

Vulture: Watch it wallcr- wait… Did you just say your not in your thirties yet?

Spider-Man: Surprised that this spiders so young and spry? Well-

Electro: Dude I���ve been fighting you for at least 5 fucking years! How old even are you?

Shocker, joking cause he’s the only one who picked up no grown adult acts likes Spidey: Don’t swear in-front of the boy you don’t want him to pick it up.

Rhino: Christ! You’re tellin me I almost crushed some 12-year-olds skull all those years ago?

Spider-Man, regretting his quipping: I was not that young! Like just starting freshman year but-

Sandman, horrified as he’s the only one with a kid and dad instincts(as of my iteration): I could’ve killed a kid…

Shocker, genuinely curious: Are you even old enough to drink? Cruel to kill a man who ain’t had his first drink yet.

Electro: Please tell us you’re at least over 25 as of this fight. Hell, I’ll take over 21!

Spider-Man:….

Sandman, realizing just how young he really is: Oh my god.

Spider-Man: My birthday’s coming up soon so I guess it counts?

Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!

Vulture: What would your mother think if she knew her son was out here risking his life telling poorly constructed jokes?

Spider-Man, offended cause it quips slap: 1. My jokes are great 2. She and my dad are dead so-

Sandman, hysterical cause holy shit he almost killed a kid orphan: OH MY GOD!

[meltedmush]

[happypeachsludgeflower]

So, in PIDW, there was obviously wife plots that could bring back the dead (mushroom body being one of them), and since we know Airplane is a hack that reuses concepts over and over, there’s probably multiple wife plots that could work, so like, where’s the PIDW fics where Liu Qingge somehow comes back to life, memories of Shen Jiu trying to save him intact, and goes to hunt the asshole down so he can repay his life debt, and along the way accidentally clears Shen Jiu’s name of all his crimes and now everyone is convinced Shen Qingqiu is a saint.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 309

Danny huddled beneath the mass of warm scales, trying to avoid the rain that sputtered and hissed into steam whenever it touched the resting form of the older halfa. He choked on broken chirps, burying his head against his tail. Everything hurt, one of his paws and wings gone- what had the wanted them for- 

He sniffled, not wanting to cry. At least- at least Jordan had managed to get them out, it could have been worse. Ancients, it could have been so much worse. Mom and Dad were… Ancients he didn’t want to even think about it- 

A huff of smoke wafted over him, and he looked up into Dan’s crimson eye- the other gone to do who knows what with. It was time to go- they couldn’t stay in one place, they had to keep moving lest the GIW catch up. They didn’t have a choice, not now, not if they didn’t want to die- if they ever could now. It didn’t matter. 

He stayed limp as he was picked up by the scruff, the rain soaking into his fur and scales (and still-healing injuries) as the larger dragon launched into the sky. They just had to keep moving, avoid any people, heroes included, and keep moving. Just keep moving.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Gaslighter? I hardly know her!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[voltaical-art]

May the gods take you first / sǝsdɹoɔ ɥʇᴉʍ ɥʇɐd ʎɯ ǝʌɐԀ

[seaside-tropical-sun]

Concubine!SJ, my beloved ~w~

[whumpitisthen]

Whumper who is part of the team 💞

I left a bit of a tag dump on a largely unrelated post about how much I adore Whumper who is part of the good guy team, and I have decided to make a post about it as the more I think about this concept the less normal I become so here it is

Whumper is part of the team, but everyone knows to be wary of them

Although they are dangerous, scary and even sadistic at times, everyone agrees that having their power and intelligence on our side is much better than to have them be on the enemy team instead

Because of what they bring to the team — and also because everyone is a little scared of them — Whumper's faults are a little easier tolerated than other teammates', and a young Whumpee who always gets in trouble and hasn't really had the time to get to know Whumper might find this blatant favouritism a little frustrating

Whumper also doesn't have to train all the time, or be present for strategy briefings, or to even really go out on missions with the team. They are always on their own, left to do their own thing, go on special, dangerous missions and the rest of the plan the team must follow tends to center around Whumper

A rookie Whumpee may be annoyed that Whumper gets to do all that, they may become curious of what Whumper really does, or even start idolising Whumper, because they are clearly so strong and smart and trusted, they must be so cool. They probably should not do any of that.

Nobody bothers Whumper when they're in a bad mood. Nobody enters Whumper's room under any circumstances, especially not alone. Nobody shall mention "the previous Whumpee" around Whumper. If Whumper is in a strange, unsettling mood, and seems a bit too friendly and interested in you specifically, you excuse yourself and make a swift escape from the situation. Call Leader if Whumper won't leave you alone. These, and many more rules are set in stone at HQ, and Whumpee is more than a little terrified of Whumper every time they learn of another weird unspoken rule that everyone knows to follow

Whumper loves rookies, and tends to play up their mysterious, dangerous persona in front of them for fun. A disgruntled Medic bumbles something about not letting Whumper get to them, but Whumpee has been sufficiently got to already, staring at Whumper with wide eyes

For whatever reason, Whumper and Whumpee are on a solo mission together. Whumpee is intimidated by Whumper, a little scared that they will follow up on a threat or insinuation they had made before about hurting them, but what actually happens is that Whumpee gets to witness first-hand the brutal efficiency and cruelty with which Whumper works, watching as they tear through the problem effortlessly, mowing through an operation that would have taken the rest of the team a whole week and careful planning to succeed at. Whumper tells them this was just a small favour, nothing major. They finally start understanding Whumper, and why they are such an important part of the team

Whumper leaves for a while, and Whumpee's first time hearing about them is through a desperate team begging them to come back when they face an unkillable, unspeakably powerful threat that they tried and failed to stop. Whumper shows up last minute, and fixes the issue in the snap of a finger with a smile on their face, mentioning how Leader could've just told them how much they missed them and they would've come back

The absolute, horrid carnage Whumper leaves after 'fixing' the team's issue leaves the whole team speechless, suddenly reminded in a massive, unbelievable show of strength and cruelty of just how powerful Whumper truly is. Whumpee has a lot of questions about Whumper for the team after that, namely: who the hell was that?; what the hell did they just do?; and oh my god, what the fuck?

After days of missing, Whumpee is found in Whumper's room tied to a chair, evidently kept there and tortured. Whumpee is so glad to have been found, yelling about how Whumper has always been so weird and unsettling, and how they bullied them and abused them all the time, and how they can't wait for them to be gone, but Medic has to tell them with an aching heart as they fix up their countless injuries that they always knew Whumper hurt them, and that they can't do much about it. Not even Leader can get them to behave without fucking up the system they have in place, and they simply can't afford to do that to the entire rest of the team. The best Whumpee can do is avoid them, or leave the team altogether — but Whumper might go catch them again if they try.

Whenever the team fails to interrogate someone, Whumper is sent in. They are always successful. Whumpee is sent down to ask if Whumper found out what they need to know, and is horrified by the state of the prisoner. Even worse, once they hear everything they need to know, Whumper ushers them out, ready to continue the torture. Whumpee innocently asks them what for if they already know everything they need to, and Whumper pauses to grin at them and ask if they want to join and see.

For a more found family type team: Whumper joins the dinner table for the first time. Everyone falls quiet. Or alternatively: Whumper stops having dinner with them. Whumpee grows concerned and brings a plateful up to Whumper's room. They do not appreciate it as much a Whumpee thought they would. This can go in so many different directions from soft fluff to just horrible awful times

Whumper reminds Leader of how voluntary their subordinacy is by roughing them or a teammate up a bit and showing them how helpless they would be if they decided to get on Whumper's bad side

Whumper is Leader.

Whumper is Medic

Whumper is indesposable

A hostage taken from the enemy confesses to how badly Whumper hurt their own teammates all the time, and shows some very nasty scars Whumper left on them too. The team is horrified

Whumper has something to hide, so they don't let their ex teammate spill anything, killing them before they can, or shutting them up any time they try

Whumper has nothing to hide, and listens with a grin as all their past cruelty is brought forth again. As if the team that they work for wouldn't already be more than aware of all that and more. Well if they weren't, now they can add all that to the list filled with their more recent cruelties

Whumper "accidentally" hurting Whumpee all the time. Whumpee is intimidated into not saying anything about what's really going on

Whumper slowly softening up to their new wholesome team. They can eventually grow fond enough to not be a colossal asshole to them all the time. Or they could go more in the "if anyone but me dares to hurt these idiots, there will be hell to pay" direction

Whumper is a cat. They claw at kind hands for no reason, they get the zoomies and cause chaos, they need to be fed on time or they become pissy, if they fall asleep on top of someone that someone will simply have to stay deathly still and wait for them to wake up because Whumper hates being woken up and once or twice a month they bring home half alive prey they caught to show off and play with. They also purr. If i have anything to say about it

They aren't close at all with the rest of the team yet. Whumper being here is a new thing. Everyone is on edge. It is unpleasant to share a room with this fucking maniac. Their eyes find teammates who they have history with, lingering on scars, or even fresh wounds hidden under clothes that they know fully well will never fade. Their smile is knowing and spiteful

"Does it hurt still? The cut I gave you? I remember how you screamed; it must ache still. How lucky that we are on the same team now, wouldn't you agree?"

No one knows Whumper at all. They are like a ghost. They show up, they do their job, they disappear. One day, Whumper stumbles into Medic's, and wordlessly climbs onto the table. Medic fixes them up with as few words as possible, and after a long, uncomfortable stare from Whumper, agrees to never say a single word about this to anyone

Whumper is a fighter. They live for the battlefield, having a little too much fun mowing down hordes of people. This is Whumpee's first time seeing them in action, and they can't help looking away right before Whumper crushes a defenseless, already incapacitated enemy's skull under their boot

Whumper knows the team way way way too well. They did stalk them for years before they joined. They know just how to get under their skin, and it's both infuriating and terrifying

Anyone who tries to break in at the dead of night answers to Whumper. The rest of the team may not even find out about the spy who tried to infiltrate them for a couple weeks, before Whumper decides to offhandedly mention that they have a hostage in their room and they are ready to talk

Here's the unhinged tags that inspired this if anyone wants to see

Masterlist | Ko-fi

[sacredfire44]

Kinda wanna read/write a post-canon Bingqiu fic set years later, where during some routine, silly wife plot, Binghe somehow finds out that the soul attached to his husband’s body is not, in fact, the original soul.

Like any person, his first assumption isn’t that his husband had replaced the original SQQ. It’s that an imposter has replaced his husband.

A skilled imposter. One who knows all of his husband’s little quirks, who slipped under even Binghe’s watchful eye.

Binghe takes care to not indicate that he’s noticed. His blood parasites confirm this is still his husband’s body, and he refuses to scare them into running before he can get the imposter out.

Binghe spends weeks researching and practicing, until he’s finally certain he can tear the imposter’s soul apart without hurting his husband. Praying, desperately, that it’s a powerful possession instead of a replacement. Praying his husband is still alive in there.

Finally, he slips into the imposter’s dreamscape, clinging to threads and forcing his way as close to the soul as possible, for the surface-level dreams show him in SQQ’s body. Inside, he finds a small man, with big eyes and stick-thin arms, features far too similar to his Shizun. A cheap, pathetic mockery of Shen Qingqiu, he makes sure to tell them.

They are weak outside of Shen qingqiu’s powerful body. It is all too easy to restrain them, to rage and revile them for their crimes, to question what they’ve done, to tear them apart, limb from limb-

“How long?,”He’d snarled, furious, claws digging into the pathetic parasite’s left arm, yanking it just far enough for the strain to burn.

“Years,”The imposter says, eyes wide and wet. Crying.

Years. Years with his husband that this imposter has taken, has stolen from them. Nights spent entangled, lazy mornings spent curled into each other’s embrace, soft evenings spent watching the sunset.

Binghe yanks the arm the rest of the way out, relishing in the way the parasite screams. It will know pain for what it’s taken from him, for what it’s taken from his Shizun.

XXXX

At first, Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, didn’t know what was happening. He’d thought of himself as Shen Qingqiu for years now, so waking up in his original body had been confusing and disorienting.

When Binghe appeared as well, he knew immediately it was a nightmare. It couldn’t be anything but that. Binghe, his Binghe as he was now, would never look at him like this, like he was the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, the scum of the earth.

It was rare to have nightmares nowadays. Binghe was always watching his dreams too closely to let something like that slip by. But the last few weeks, he’d been absorbed in his newest little pet project, exhausted and stressed by whatever it was he refused to talk about. Shen Qingqiu didn’t blame him for having one night of sleep without constant vigilance.

“So the imposter shows himself,”Dream-Binghe said, and ah, what an odd thing to dream up! Shen Qingqiu was just as good as the original goods, and he knew it! There was no way at all he had such insecurities, and certainly not any strong enough to appear as dreams! If he’d had such dreams before, that was simply a coincidence, a trick of the mind repeating the scenario it’d already created to avoid making a new one.

But Binghe doesn’t rant and rave at him for lying, doesn’t call out his betrayal. Instead, his eyes hard and cold, his claws tight where they dig into his wrists, he questions him.

Why?

I don’t know, Shen Qingqiu has to answer. I woke up in this body.

Where is he?

I don’t know, he answers again.

How long?

Here, Shen Qingqiu bites down a cry of pain as his left arm his yanked painfully out, a loud pop as it tugs out of his socket. The pain is real, he realizes deliriously. It’s real the way the Punishment Protocol had been. The thought makes ice pool in his chest.

What had he done to deserve a punishment from the System?

The hand tightens, the bones in his wrist creaking ominously at the strength of the hold.

The look in Binghe’s eyes hurts far more, though. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even notice the tears in his eyes until they’re spilling over, until his voice comes out as a broken warble.

“Years,”He whispers at last, aware he’s hammering the final nail into his coffin.

It’s only as his arm is yanked away, as muscle and sinew tears with a sickening squelch, that it occurs to him. The punishment protocol had worked by sharing his dreamscape with the original Bingge. It hadn’t summoned nightmares out of no where.

This wasn’t Bingge. He’d known it on sight. Had recognized it in the curlier hair, the taller build.

This wasn’t Bingge. This was his husband.

And this wasn’t a dream.

XXX

Binghe watches as the pathetic worm scrambles away from him, gasping and hiccuping through his tears. His remaining arm shakes against the jagged edge of his stump, trying to stem the flow of blood. It won’t do a damn thing. This is a dream world, and that form is just a representation of his soul.

“I’m sorry,”It begs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Binghe forgive me- “

“Do not call me that,” He hisses. This parasite had squirmed its way in, had settled in and gotten comfortable in its place as his husband, but that spot would only ever belong to his Shizun, his rightful Shizun. Everything else… everything else had been a lie!

“No!,”The imposter gasped. Had Binghe spoken out loud? “No, it wasn’t! I really- I really tried to be honest, I- I-“

It gulped, face pale and wan, tears spilling over its cheeks. Its voice dropped to a whimper.

“I loved you. I thought you loved me too.”

Luo Binghe let out a harsh laugh. So that was the plan? Replace his husband and try and make him grow attached? Try to squirm into his heart, when it was already spoken for?

“I could never love a pathetic fake!,”He snarled. “I’ve been planning your death from the moment I learned!”

The imposter sucked in a sharp breath. They stopped scrambling away, simply sitting before him, shaking and curled into themselves.

It didn’t try to run again as he stepped forward. Not even as he grabbed its leg and tore it from its body. It screamed, and thrashed, but made no effort to pull itself away again.

Instead, the insolent wretch began muttering under his breath, a plea and a prayer in one. Begging for forgiveness, for the dream to end, for Binghe to wake him up. Pathetic. Had the imposter really fallen in love with him over the course of its tenure?

He dug his claws into the stump at its shoulder to stop it. The muttering broke into muffled cries, biting their lip as they struggled to hold them back. A habit he recognized from his husband. Disgusting, he thought, holding to the illusion for pity until the very last second.

“You’re just a cowardly weakling, leeching off of Shen Qingqiu. You fell in love with me? Then know this in your heart.”

Binghe dug his fingers in harder, harder, until his claws scrapped against the shattered bone of the socket and dug in. The parasite’s eyes nearly rolled back into its head as it jerked. Binghe lifted it off the ground by the bone, then held still until the worm caught its breath.

“I could never love the man before me. I would never have even looked at you twice had I known.”

Binghe expands his awareness to the dream world around him. From a greater distance, the soul of the imposter is more like a small flickering flame, a little glow between his hands, than a man.

It takes almost no effort at all, to close his fist around it and smother the flame.

XXX

Binghe wakes up in the morning, ecstatic to finally be done with this journey and desperate for love from his husband who he’s apparently not seen in years.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up with him.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up at all.

XXX

Anyway now that I’ve officially written a short version of it I want y’all to know that Shang Qinghua would be the one to tell him, after rushing over when he gets an alert that the account of User 002 was deactivated.

Binghe gets to metaphorically self-destruct, realizing everything he said and did was to his own husband and not an assumed imposter. The world shapes itself to Binghe’s wishes, and he still has access to the holy mausoleum, so he manages to bring back Shen Qingqiu. I debated having him bring back Shen Jiu instead but I love the protagonist of any book I read, and that includes Shen Yuan, so instead he brings back his husband whose heartbroken and runs off, with a new level of instinctive terror to go along with it. Binghe really does try to give him room, but that does neither of them good because Binghe drowns in his guilt and the confirmation of his husband’s fear, and Shen Yuan drowns in his heartbreak and confirmation of his husband’s rejection.

The happy ending comes after a slowburn of binghe groveling and breaking himself down(a la Lost and Found in Limitless Clarity) with a side of both being left with new insecurities to add to the existing ones post-canon.

(And if Binghe now dreams of the delicate flicker of a soul between his hands, now jolts awake to the reminder of how small it was, how easy to smother, well-

-it’s the least he deserves, isn’t it?)

[sunnynwanda]

The Darkside

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

Warning: mentions of physical torture and trauma (a somewhat graphic description of rape in the 2nd chapter), blood, broken bones, violence... you get the idea. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you. This is by far the roughest thing I’ve written on this website. 

Hero's fingers tap along the rhythm of their frantic heart against their thigh. Their restless eyes scan the horizon for any signs of Villain. It's 15 minutes past midnight, and they have every right to be worried. Villain is never late. They know something is wrong. What they don't know is what to do. Because a) they were never friends with Villain, so they have no idea where to look, and b) Villain doesn't exactly like them. Not that Hero can blame them. They are enemies, after all.

Ever since villains have started disappearing from the city, Hero has been... anxious. To say the least. They kept seeing familiar faces on the morning news, each day silently praying to not hear their Villain's name. They discussed the issue with fellow crime fighters, only to come to one conclusion - the mystery reigned over their city.

They tried approaching their mentor - Superhero - to voice their concerns regarding the disappearances but were met with a stern face and a horrifying statement that made bile rise in Hero's mouth. 

Wasn't this our end goal, Hero? The city will be free of criminals, doesn't matter how.

Villain's frame appears against the starry sky 45 minutes past midnight, and Hero relaxes. A wave of warm relief washes over them, only to leave them stiff when Villain lands in front of them, right under the street light. Had they not known them so well, Hero wouldn't recognize the bloody mess in place of their face.

"Vil, what on Earth..." they start, only to be interrupted by a coarse voice. Villain can't seem to focus their gaze, an obvious sign of concussion, if not many.

"Shut it." Villain sneers, brushing Hero's hand away and wincing when the movement sends a jolt of pain down their spine. "Don't start."

"Villain," they struggle to keep their face straight because they have never seen Villain so wrecked. "Hold still. You're about to collapse."

They move to support them, but Villain jumps away despite the pain cruising through their body after every move. "Hero. Don't."

"At least let me assess the damage," Hero pleads, an unconscious realisation forming in the depths of their mind. Villain takes a limping step back.

"Why, so you can report?" Hero shudders at the way their voice breaks. Villain leans against the light pole, unable to stand on their right foot. Hero watches them intently, only now noticing how they are cradling their left hand. Lord, just how injured are you?

"What are you talking about?" Hero's breath hitches in their throat. They pause, taking a deliberate breath before continuing. "Who did this to you?"

"Take your guess." Villain chuckles darkly, their swollen face distorting into a grimace. The expressive mimic causes the gash on their forehead to bleed again. They wipe it with their sleeve. "I'm surprised I'm still alive."

"Vil, you're not helping." Hero did not intend to sound so harsh, but something tells them they don't have much time. And they need answers. "I don't understand."

"You, you, you… It's only ever about you!" Villain explodes, and the floodgates break down, releasing everything they've had to hold back. "Did you ever wonder what happened to the others?" they scream, hitting their rival's chest. Hero doesn't stop them when they notice even Villain's fingers are covered in dry blood, some broken. Hero feels their own blood freeze in their veins. Gods, what kind of a monster do you have to be to...

Villain lets out a choked cry, throwing their head back and looking up to contain themselves. "Has it ever crossed your mind that you were not the only variable in the game?" They are not addressing Hero so much as talking to themselves. "Of course not."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hero starts quietly. They are beginning to see the puzzle pieces, but the picture isn't clear to their mind's eye.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" This time, Villain sounds calm. Almost indifferent. Vacant.

They drape their cape over their head and start to turn when Hero stops them, lightly touching their shoulder. "Hey, don't walk out on me. Tell me." Villain whimpers in pain at the touch, prompting Hero to jerk their hand away, stiffening at the look in their eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the only one that's escaped," Villain explains, lowering their voice to a whisper for good measure. "They'll find out in the morning and try to track me."

"I promise I can keep you safe," Hero claims, determination colouring their eyes red. "Who are they?"

Villain shakes their head wordlessly. "Use your brain. Do your research. You'll be surprised to know what those walls are hiding." They nod to the north. Superhero's headquarters. No.

Their emotions must be evident on their face because Villain lets out another dark chuckle. "You might find he has different ways of breaking people. You know nothing of the methods he uses to torture people into submission."

"Sub… what?" The question scratches the back of their throat with vague understanding. One they don't dare to voice. "Villain, you need a doctor."

"I need to get out of this city," Villain replies, turning away from them in a swift motion. "And I suggest you do the same once you learn the truth. He won't spare you." They add over their shoulder before vanishing into the night. Leaving Hero alone and shaking under the street lamp.

Hero has 3 hours until dawn. And they intend to use those hours to find out the truth, pack up their things and disappear from the city for good.

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

Masterlist

Hi loves! I know I’ve been practically MIA on this website but I did have a good reason for that (that being the final exam in my PhD course).

I am back now and I hope you’ll enjoy this... as much as one can, of course. 

Love, 

Sunny

[vebokki]

bingge's visit to his favorite prisoner

[sammygender]

its so so insane how dean has like. the huge fanbase he does. he is AWFUL!!!! i love him truly but im known for loving awful characters in fandoms im used to characters who act like him being viciously hated!!! and the only explanation i can think of is that hes played by jensen ackles (aka pretty white man). theres the fact that the narrative favours dean a lot when hes not actually right (a la s4) but thats not just it because dean is pretty clear-cut presesnted as getting morally greyer to the point of antihero territory in like s9 (where im at) at least. and Yet. he is unproblematic ally king to all??? supportive brother of the century??? Girl what???? do you know who dean winchester is? he is a controlling possessive clingy manipulative aggressive unstable thirty five year old who cant grow past his own damage and never really will because the narrative is perpetuated by the cycles he keeps perpetuating

[companion-showdown]

Who had the worst time aboard the TARDIS?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

Are you really here?

Or are you just a shimmer of a love I lost?

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?