Secret Caretaking

Tumblr is acting extremely dumb so there's a high possibility that this will post twice now.

@badthingshappenbingo

Original Work

Secret Caretaking

Angel and demon whump, anyone?

@whatwhumpcomments

******

The halls changed as Angel walked through them. She did this often, walked, and watched what her Holy Land provided her with- what she desired. It was such a delicate system, one always so soft and comforting, but one that only ever served as a happiness while you explored it.

Usually she saw Earth's puppies and baby alligators- goodness she loved the alligators. All of the other angels disliked them- didn't hate them, but weren't particularly fond either. In any case, Angel loved them.

There were other rooms, of course.

Another room she loved passing through was the cloud rooms. Sometimes the clouds were painted with an early sunrise. Other times they were sunset. And the remainder of the times were solid colours that made the clouds look like something the humans would make with cotton and the coloured bulbs they created.

The Holy Land knew her well. Of course it did. It knew every angel inside and out.

Today, the land brought Angel something it never did before. As she walked through the ever changing hall and forever open doors of glorious joy, she spotted a closed door, one black and with a slit at the top with thick metal bars.

Angel stopped, peering at it from a few feet away. She...well, she didn't really like that door. It kind of frightened her. Why was the Holy Land giving her such a dark door? Angel didn't understand. But the Holy Land always knew what she wanted. Surely whatever was inside could be deemed relevant to herself.

With a deep breath, she collected herself, straightening her spine, lifting her chin until it was parallel with ground. This was how Angel walked when things were normal, and this- this completely normal door- was normal. Normal, normal, normal.

There was a handle, one that looked like old, rusting iron. This is normal. This is meant for me. Angel gripped the handle and pushed it forward until she was stepping and sliding through the crack. She watched her feet, careful not to trip over them.

When the door shut, she looked up to see her own light illuminating the room- more than that, she was illuminating a-a form. She didn't dare think the real word, even as she squealed in a sudden fear and let her back slam against the door she'd just slipped through.

"Ah, another of you."

Revenge of The Two Weeks (3)- that's right. We named it, folks.

Continuation of this original story.

Continued directly from here!

@tears-and-lilies @whatwhumpcomments

If anyone would lile to be added or removed from any tag lists, plz let me know! I don't mind either way!

Heed the tags.

******

The flaps of Hero's tent flapped in the wind, distracting him slightly from the task at hand. The commander was testing his strategy; he was testing all of the mens' strategy, trying to figure out who might gain his own title when he retired- if he ever retired.

Hero picked the tip of his finger up off of the map, replacing it with another finger on his other hand while he moved his first to the right side of the parchment. The commander was wanting to expand to the eastern part of the lands. Problem was the number of geological obstacles: craters, hills, ponds, and mushy swamp-like areas galore.

Sighing, Hero threw his head back. It seemed impossible. He eyed the blue flag closest to his right finger, picked it up, and threw it over the shoulder. There, he thought, Get rid of the bloody pond. If only it worked that way.

Oh no. I made myself cry with this one.

Thank you @gingerly-writing for this heartbreaking prompt!

“Look away,” the villain said softly. “There’s no saving them now, but I can make it quick.”

"No. No, I can't." Hero hiccuped on a sob. Something in her chest was breaking. Her body fell to the pebbled ground and she reached a hand towards the little boy in front of her- her boy. That was her boy. She gripped the ground as much as she could, pulling herself to her baby, but her efforts didn't last.

Villain picked her up, holding her close, arms wrapped around her front, her back pressed against his chest. She just wanted to be near her baby boy; he was writhing on the ground- dying. She needed to be there with him. "Hero, I promise you don't want to see this." She thrashed in his hold, screaming at him, crying, but he wouldn't give. Villain's eyes changed as he whispered in the hero's ears, "Close your eyes."

And she did. She had no choice but to close her eyes, all because of Villain's command. Now, if she couldn't be in her little boy's presence in his dying moments, it would be Villain's fault and not her own. That was all Villain could ask for as she continued crying and thrashing in his grasp.

"Now stay here," he whispered again, and the lightness in his voice carried through Hero's veins, pumping towards her mind by her heart's pulses. The command settled around her brain like a fog until it was all she could understand. "Hold still. It'll be okay."

"It'll be okay," she said almost robotically, and her body stilled. Her shaking hands became stone. Even being calmed, Hero had a conflict within herself. Relaxed as she was now, she knew she should be screaming. Her son was going to die. "It's not okay, not right now. It's not okay even if it will be. It's not okay right now, Villain. My baby's- he's-"

"Shhh. It's okay. I can make it quick." Villain whispered one last thing. "Plug your ears as tightly as you can. I'll get you when it's finished."

"It's okay," Hero wanted to nod, but Villain already commanded her limbs to be still. She did plug her ears like he said though. It's okay. And she believed it. "You'll get me when it's finished."

She felt Villain's arms slide away from her. She barely heard as his footsteps became more distanced. Her son's pained screams were still audible, but more muffled than when her ears were open. It didn't matter anyways. Everything was okay. Her mind said everything was okay. Yeah, maybe it was because of Villain's power, but that didn't matter. Her brain told her with full confidence that it was okay. And Villain would get her when he finished.

"It hurts!" Hero heard her son scream. "It hurts so bad! I want my mommy!" A part of Hero's mind felt like it lurched at her boy's last statement, but Villain's command was stronger. She wanted to be pissed at Villain for making her so still, for not letting her see her baby boy, but she couldn't- because it was okay.

Snap. Hero's heart rate increased at the sound. A single tear fell down her face. A whimper rose in her throat. Her eyes were still closed, ears were still plugged. But it wasn't enough. Her ribs were collapsing in on her. Everything hurt. More whimpers and groaned escaped her, but then there were hands on her shoulder, a voice in front of her.

A hand swiped away the stray tear on Hero's face. "Your emotions are too strong for my ability. I need to think of a stronger command." A pause. "I'm so sorry, Hero."

"Wha- why are you apologizing? It's okay." Her voice was breaking away from its numb tone, breaking in spots. Still, the command was still ever present.

Villain began whispering after a single deep breath. Hero could only listen. "Hero, you never had a son. You never even had a husband. All of these years, you've fought alone, and you've done so well at it. Supervillain is a tough opponent, but you found a partner who is willing to help you bring him down. Your partner's name is Villain; that's me."

Another deep breath. "You never knew the young boy in front of you. He was an unfortunate causality that neither of us could prevent. He passed quickly and with little pain. The boy's family has already received the news. Their grievance period might be long, but they'll be okay, just like you and I will be." Villain took a hand off of Hero to wipe at his own tears. It was becoming difficult to refrain from sniffing.

"Although there was much destruction, Supervillain left very injured. We both think if he returns at all, it'll be with a permanent leg injury, which will slow him down. We can truly best him next time."

Villain sighed. "I release your body from my command." He never would have imagined siding with Hero like this, never would have thought he'd commit himself to being her partner. But...he couldn't be on Supervillain's side anymore, not if- not if he did things like this. Children had no place in war. And parents didn't deserve to suffer for it when it did- unfortunately- happen.

Supervillain was a monster, and just like Villain told Hero, he was hurt. Villain would kill him next time.

"Have any authorities been called?" Hero asked.

Villain cleared his throat and stepped back. At a normal volume, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, you can hear the sirens, actually. You go back to my base. I'll give the reports."

"You sure?" Hero gave a sympathetic smile- if you could call such a thing that. She glanced at the boy's body- the body which wasn't her son. She didn't know that boy. "You seem...more affected by this than usual. I thought you were supposed to be the tough shell to crack." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive. I can do the report, Villain, if you need to take some time to yourself."

He shook his head. "I'm alright. You head back, okay? I got this."

Hero nodded in acknowledgment, and without another word, she began walking away.

Villain felt a heavy weight settle on his body. He'd never live happily remembering he erased a mother's son from her own memory. That was unforgivable, even if it was necessary.

This doubles as an entry for my bthb! @badthingshappenbingo

Original work

Dragging Themselves Along the Ground

Love Potion/ Love Spell

Original work

Love potion/spell

******

"Oh my god; I'm in bed with Villain," Hero said as she jolted straight up upon seeing the body beside her. She looked down at herself. She was still clothed and she found herself being somewhat disappointed. Still, Hero muttered again, slightly happier than before, "I'm in bed with Villain."

There was a shuffle in the bed. Villain turned onto his other shoulder, peering at Hero, only able to see her because of the moonlight which flitted just between the blinds. "That sounded less concerning than the first. You almost seemed to be scared of being in bed with me. Should I be worried?"

A chuckle slipped from Hero. "No, I just- we- I'm- and you-" She laughed again, this time due to her spluttering mess of words. "I can't believe I'm here with you. I feel like...like this is something I've wanted for so long, and now- I mean, I'm- I can't believe I'm in bed with you now. It almost doesn't feel like I should be here."

Villain reached out, took her hand, and brought it to his lips. "Believe me, dear, you're exactly where you are meant to be." He asked, "Did you have a bad dream, my sweet? You seem offset."

"I- well, I don't know actually." Her eyes became squinted. She left her hand in Villain's. It felt warm there. Comforting. How had she never thought of holding Villain's hand before? "I can't remember how...How did I get here?"

"Is there something wrong? Should I have one of the medics come down and-"

"Medics? No. No, I'm fine. I just-" Hero took her hand back so that she could hold her head, as if that would help her sort out the puzzle which was her mind. "I don't understand what's happening. The last thing I remember...we were fighting and- and I don't know what else. That's all I remember."

Villain hummed, scooted closer to her, and took her back into his arms and chest. "I'm going to go make you some warm tea. How does that sound?"

She nodded. "Tea sounds good." She leaned her head against his shoulder. Hero couldn't say why she felt so comfortable with him in this moment, especially seeing as her last memory was of the two of them fighting. But being warmed by what heat he put off now, being held by him, and having him kiss her hand...It all just somehow felt right, like they'd always been like this with one another. Maybe it really was possible that she dreamt the fight.

But then why didn't she remember anything before then? Why couldn't she recall laying in bed with Villain before? Why could she only remember throwing fists at him that he easily caught? She didn't remember taking a liking to Villain. But it was clear to her now as she let herself be embraced by him in a bed they obviously shared that they liked- maybe even loved each other. Hero felt guilty, not knowing why she loved him. Something was wrong with her. There had to have been.

What happened next both shocked and delighted her. Villain grabbed her chin lightly, despite his always-calloused fingers- and turned her head so that he could capture her lips. He didn't force the kiss on Hero. He gave her time to pull away, but she didn't. Hero wanted the kiss. She leaned in and let him kiss her, just as she kissed him.

Villain released Hero and began scooting off of the bed. "I'll be back with your tea. Honey, not sugar, right?"

"Yeah. Lots of honey." She smiled at him, but before he walked through the door, she asked, "Did something happen to me?"

"What do you mean, darling?"

"My memory. Why don't I remember anything?"

Villain sighed and gave a mock smile before coming to the foot of the bed and sitting just in front of Hero's feet, which were still beneath the comforter. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask so soon, but I guess it makes sense you would. Missing memories is a hard thing to miss." He looked towards the window and Hero swore she saw tears glimmering in his eyes.

"Supervillain, he- uh- finally managed to capture you." A broken, aggravated laugh. "Wiped away nearly all of your memories until you were just this- this vessel without any purpose." Villain swallowed, put a hand over where Hero's feet were. He looked into Hero's eyes and she felt her heart throbbing faster. "Supervillain left the ones where you and he fought but- but he-"

Did Villain sniffle just now?

Hero listened as he continued to explain. "He replaced every image of himself with me. Made it so that you could never fully adjust back to your old life with me because...because every time you look at me, you'll see this- this absolutely abhorrent monster that tortured you. But I would never do that. Okay, Hero? I would never hurt you."

"Have I ever- Have I ever tried to attack you before? Because of my messed up memories?"

Solemnly, Villain nodded. "But it's okay. I know why you do it, and I don't blame you."

His hand squeezed Hero's feet. In a reassuring way, she thought, Not a cruel one. Hero hated that she had to tell herself this. Did he ever do that and Hero think he was going to hurt her? She hoped not.

"I'm going to go make you your tea now, alright?"

Hero nodded after a deep breath. Tea fixes everything. It seemed Supervillain let her keep that bit of knowledge at least.

While Villain went to get her tea, Hero began pondering. Memories were flipping through her mind, all of which being how Villain said; he was the enemy in them all, and he always hurt her in the most brutal of ways.

A part of Hero considered Villain actually was an enemy. How could he not be with all of these memories? Well, that was easy, really; Hero loved him. And she wouldn't love him if he'd been the enemy all along. Maybe she couldn't remember how she came to love him, but it was evident in the way her heart sped up when she realized she laid beside him, and even more when he began to speak to her.

But what if the increased heart rate was because of an embedded fear? Not from Supervillain, but from herself. Wasn't it possible that Villain was responsible for her loss of memories?

No. No, because then why would he leave such horrid memories of himself? To make a story.

No!

Hero couldn't make up her mind. It was being pulled in so many directions, producing so many thoughts at once that she couldn't keep up. She needed to think about what she knew.

So what was that? What did Hero know that was concrete? The only thing that came to mind was how much she loved laying beside Villain, how she loved the warmth he put off, the way he gave her pet names, the way he held and kissed her hand. She loved Villain. That was true. Which meant that his story had to have been true about Supervillain.

But what if-

The door creaked open and Villain stepped in with a mug in hand. He came to Hero's bedside and nearly set the tea on her nightstand, but he seemed to notice Hero's distraught face.

"It's happening again. I can see it."

Hero hummed her confusion.

"You're questioning things again. It's okay; I get it." His feet shuffled for a moment and Hero could tell he was trying to think of what to say next. "Listen, I'm going to leave you to your thoughts, but if you have any questions, or you need reassurance or whatever, just- shake me awake or shove me or something. I'm here for you, Hero. Alright?"

"Okay." Hero nodded for what felt like the tenth time this night- or day. It has to be at least 4am right now.

"Oh!" Villain exclaimed quietly, holding the mug. "Go ahead and have a taste real quick." He handed the mug to Hero, explaining, "I wasn't sure if I added enough honey or not. Or maybe added too much. The water was an amber colour after I was done squeezing that bear." He chuckled and Hero took a sip.

"That's- wow. Yeah, no. That's good. That's- gosh, it's perfect. Remind me to always have you make my tea."

Villain smiled. "I would be happy to. I'm glad you like it." He rounded the bed, sliding in under his side of the blankets.

Hero whispered rather sleepily after setting her tea on the nightstand, "Goodnight. I love you, Villain."

"I love you, too, my doll." He pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead as she rolled over to face him. When she closed her eyes, he satisfyingly closed his own.

Dragged by the Ankle

Original Work

Dragged by the Ankle

@badthingshappenbingo

I use 'Hero' and 'Villain' but it's medieval whump :D

******

It took one strong blow for Hero to drop his sword. Stupidly, he watched as it flew through the air and landed. It gave Villain the opportunity to balance himself on one leg before kicking Hero in the gut with the other.

There was a jolt as Hero met the ground. A sting traveled up his spine and even the slightest amount of movement made the sting strengthen.

His senses only came about him when he heard Villain's footsteps nearing. Not that he was ever so far away, but he had been at least a shortsword's distance away for a time. That meant every step closer was time wasted on Hero's behalf. His sword laid to his right.

Stealing a quick glance at Villain to ensure he had time, Hero flipped himself on his stomach and launched himself at his sword despite the pain still present in his back. His hand barely touched the pommel before he felt something wrap around his ankle. In the next moment, his chest was being dragged back along the ground, pebbles and ragged stones digging into his skin, even over his clothes.

Shit, shit, shit!

"I don't think so, Hero."

Still, Hero tried reaching out, tried clawing at the ground to get a grip and crawl away.

"The last time we fought," Villain's hand left Hero's ankle only for both of them to return to his shoulders, flipping him over. He kneeled beside Hero and swiped at his shirt, wiping away some dirt from when Villain had dragged him just moments ago. Then he put a knee on Hero's chest, pinning him with little effort. "The last we fought, I was still a boy."

Hero jerked a shoulder down, hopeful that Villain wasn't observant enough to know what he was doing. He was even more hopeful he didn't remember what was in his boot, what was always in his boot.

"You must really be out of it if you think I forgot that little trick you taught me." Villain and Hero bent at the same time. Villain won, pulling a dagger out of the latter's right boot.

"Personally, I find it a little uncomfortable. Too bulky in the shoe, less mobility, you know how it is. Actually, do you know that's the reason I bested you just now?" Villain didn't wait for Hero's response. "Yeah. You see, stance is one of the most important contributors in swordplay, and you, brother, have terrible stance- all because of the pesky clunk of metal you keep beside your ankle."

"What are you doing here?" Hero ground out between clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

Villain hummed, raised a brow, and considered the dagger in his hand. He began to stand, but threw his heel into Hero's chest when he tried to move. His older brother grunted, going still as Villain sat on his ribs, legs on his left side.

"Get off of me," Hero muttered with laboured breaths.

It made no difference. Villain wasn't going to move on his own. If Hero wanted him off, he would have to do it himself. And Villain would let him, but he knew Hero wouldn't try.

"Go ahead, hero," Villain said. "Knock me off if you want."

Some part of Hero's body jumped, but he couldn't tell what. His mind was too busy to comprehend his individual nerves. It was too much. His thoughts were too much.

"Look, I know what this is about."

"Do you now?" Villain shifted, scooting off of his brother's body and instead placing an elbow on his chest. "We used to lay like this, you remember, brother? Before you resorted to being an ass and sending 'considerably weak children into the woods to learn true strength'."

Hero said, "You're angry. I get it, okay? I shouldn't have done it, but the general-"

"The general was a harsh guy and you didn't want to take a single beating, so instead, you sent a bunch of children to their deaths. I know the story." Villain gave a mock smile.

"If you're not going to let me talk, then what are you here to do? Kill me? What is it?"

Villain shrugged. "Well I know you've shoved the guilt away, and I figured my face would serve as a good reminder. But seeing as you are still making the same excuse..." He brought the dagger up, gave a dazzling smile, and then leaned over his selfish, older brother before bringing the blade to Hero's neck. "Maybe I will threaten your life."

Hero remained silent at this. One part of him wanted to kindly ask that his young sibling not slice his skin open. Another believed he deserved it.

The woods weren't a place for a child. Hero even heard that many of them died. It was a shock to him that Villain was still alive, as scrawny as he'd been back then. What made it even worse was that he sent his brother off. Hero practically sent Villain to his grave. He was relieved his brother was alive now, but also somewhat terrified as there was still a blade being held against his neck.

"Do it." Hero nodded lightly. The blade didn't cut him. If he'd shaken his head, it very well could have, but not by nodding. "If you want to kill me, then do it. It's all I deserve."

Villain took a deep breath, a pleasant one, like he was in a bakery which had just finished with a tray of cookies. "That's the full blown guilt I wanted. You've felt it all along, the moment you saw my face, and realized I hadn't died. That was your greatest fear, wasn't it? That you'd someday have to face me again?

"But you're not afraid of me killing you. It's exactly what you want, and you want it to be by my hand because you think that's what you deserve. It's not." Villain shook his head, lifted the dagger so that only the tip touched his brother's neck. "What you deserve, dear brother, is to suffer. And the only way for you to do that is to live, knowing that I'm still alive, even when you left me abandoned in the woods. You deserve to live with your guilt. That is what you deserve."

Villain stood, tossing the dagger onto Hero's chest. "Keep that, and let it remind you that I could have killed you as I wished, but unlike you, I don't kill children- since you clearly are one. Goodbye, brother."

******

Continuation here!

Power Fatigue

Original Work

Power Fatigue

@badthingshappenbingo

Short Description: Hero abandoned Sidekick, but Villain saved them. They go to Hero to confront him.

******

There was heavy breathing on the other line of the phone call. Villain smiled. "Such wrath, Hero." The other end went silent. He almost laughed. Hero had muted herself.

Looking at his phone for a moment, he shrugged, clicking the 'hang up' button before pocketing the device. Then, he turned the handle in front of him, pushing the heavy back-entrance door open. "Herooo? You in here?"

Hero's base was an old school, one that had supposedly shut down because of mass amounts of mold, rats scurrying about, and bed bugs in clinic beds. This was far from the truth though. Sidekick told Villain as much. Hero bribed the school to sell to him, then bought the school. He podged up the outside, made the rumour look true, and decorated the inside to be a lovely base and home.

Villain beat a fist against a locker, continuing down the hall. "Hero, I don't feel like playing hide and seek today. We do it often enough with your always running away." There was no answer, and no movement.

Okay, screw it. If Hero wanted to pretend like he didn't hear, then Villain would make himself loud enough that he couldn't be ignored.

Walking to the still makeshift office, Villain picked up a phone at the front desk, pushing a button that simply said 'All'. A radio noise sounded before there was a click. "Did you ever watch the movie Singing in the Rain?" Perhaps a bit cheesily, Villain began singing into the intercom. He could vaguely hear his own voice in the speakers. "I'm singing in the schoolhouse! I'm singing in the schoolhouse!" He sighed. "You ought to put me out of my misery, Hero. I have a fear of singing in public."

"You shouldn't. I always thought you had a lovely voice."

Can Only Move the Eyes

Original Work

Can Only Move the Eyes

@badthingshappenbingo

Small Description: an immortal sorceress is trying to rid herself of immortality by taking the life of the one she loves.

******

You're strong, the lady's voice said, but not strong enough to counter my powers.

If Tysin could growl, he would have, but he couldn't move. Even his breaths were controlled by the sorceress at his side.

Have you had training? Defense against magic? the sorceress, named Giladiasana- Sana, for short- asked Tysin in his head. He could answer if he wanted, think a response loudly enough that she would hear, but he didn't care to talk to a woman who was about to bleed him dry.

Sana pushed a hard barrier on his mind, causing a sharp sting, one that would have made Tysin take a sharp intake of breath and even hold his head, but all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut. That was meant to happen differently, she whispered in his head.

When Tysin opened his eyes again, he glanced around, head unmoving, but eyes darting about. There was glass everywhere. Mostly bottles full of discoloured liquids. Other pieces of glass- colourful ones- dangled about on strings. Tysin assumed it was sea glass. The sorceress's hut was an alcove by the beach so it made sense.

You're ignoring me. Very nice. Sana purred in his mind and it felt to Tysin like it wrapped around his brain. He felt dizzy despite being entirely still.

Shot with an Arrow

Original Work

Shot with an Arrow

@badthingshappenbingo

I present to you another royal whumpee, folks!

Requests are accepted!

******

Sighing, the lord threw a hand in the air. A signal to his archer. "Shoot him," he said.

The archer obeyed, losing the arrow from his bow and sending it into their captive's shoulder. Said captive staggered for a moment, but continued running.

"Again."

This arrow landed in their lower back, close enough to the spine that if he weren't muscular, it might have killed him right then and there.

"Easy, killer. I need him alive. Take out his leg."

Another arrow whizzed through the air, and this one successfully made it into the captive's calf. He hollered loud enough that both the lord and archer could hear from the guard tower.

"One more for extra measure?"

The archer said, "I shouldn't unless you want to drag him back. If I may suggest it, I say make him walk. It'll hurt like a blow from the gods and it might be enough to teach him a lesson."

With a nod, the lord stepped away, making his way to where his captive was running. Right now, he was walking- no, limping- further away, but he wasn't even fast enough to match the lord's leisurely pace.

As the lord approached, the captive grunted, pushing himself further away with a sort of relentlessness. The lord only laughed, grabbing the puny man's collar and yanking him back.

"Do you know that if your commander hadn't put you through so much training, that second arrow," The lord paused, grasping the arrow so close to the captive's spine and pushing it slightly, earning many disgruntled noises and whines. "It would have killed you."

Then, he pulled the arrow, but not hard enough to tear it out, only enough to separate the skin from his captive's bones before he released the arrow again. The captive's breathing was quick and shallow, though the lord could tell he was attempting to take deeper breaths.

"What do you want from me?" The captive spoke slowly, nearly breathlessly. He swallowed back another cry of pain as the lord jostled him.

"Princes and kings are known to be honoured warriors, whereas lords are stuck in manors, reading paper after paper of stupid requests," the lord explained, then gave an example, "'My mother died and the rest of my family has struggled to stay motivated with the fields. Might we keep what little crops we get this season?' Stupid, am I right?"

"You've tortured me," The captive- the prince- actually gave a small laugh. "Because you don't want to be a lord." His next sentence came out harsher, no longer amused. "And you thought that kidnapping me, shoving knives beneath my skin, and shooting arrows into my backside would convince me to hand over my title? No."

The lord shrugged, beginning to drag the prince back with him and saying, "You'll walk on your own," before releasing the prince's tattered shirt. He added, "I kidnapped you because I know my request isn't simple. You would never hand over the authority used to command an army if I walked into the halls of the palace and only asked. You would need convincing, and if my convincing doesn't work then you're just another obstacle for me to eliminate. Having said that, prince, I kidnapped you because it's my way of presenting you a choice. Life or Death?"

The lord was walking away, but the prince could see the archer on the tower, their bow still drawn. The scenario was clear. If the prince ran, the archer would shoot him, and this time he wouldn't be left staggering; he'd be left in the dirt, dead, and the lord would claim his title then and there.

Or, he could stumble back to the lord's manor and let himself be tortured until he finally gave.

Maybe it was arrogance, but the prince believed he was strong enough to endure the tortures, especially if it meant they'd take the arrows out first. He began limping, several feet away from the lord, following him to his prison.

******

Banished

Original Work

Banished

@badthingshappenbingo

This seemed like a perfect trope for some royal writing ;D

TWs: branding, lady whump, sex- mistress- implication (just mentioned once)

******

"Get out." The prince pointed to the closed door. He didn't look at his lover; he was too furious to.

"You are joking," she said quietly. Her hand fell onto His Highness' shoulder gently, but he knocked it off with a quick swipe of his own hand.

The prince shook his head. "You've betrayed me. You need to leave."

She huffed, and took a seat at his desk, crossing an ankle over her leg, before propping an elbow on her knee. It was the prince's own clothing that allowed her to do this. Lover could never sit in such a position as this in the obnoxious dresses the servants and maids made her wear. "You know I love you," the prince's lover said, but he didn't believe her. Not anymore.

The letter in his hand was crumpled and wet with sweaty palms. "You don't love me. You love some northwestern widowed lord! How do you even know this man?" He shook the letter in her face before crumbling up and holding it over the flame of a candle on the desk behind her.

At first she'd thought he was about to give her an angry, yet passionate kiss. That's what lovers did, right? They got angry with one another and then they made up- or made out. Once she realized what the prince was actually doing, she squealed and pushed his hand away, sending the wadded paper flying. She scrambled for it, trying to blow the flames out before they caused too much damage. "How insecure are you that you believe I would cheat on you!" she screamed at him.

It was somewhat shocking that the guards hadn't stomped in yet, after hearing the prince's lover yelling. Then again, he hadn't ordered them to intervene, so why would they? They never acted without hearing his word first. Lover tried to advise them differently, for someone could sneak in and begin fighting Prince, and he might be been killed before he could yell for help.

"This letter means nothing, Prince. Nothing, okay? It's just...it's something I'm trying to figure out."

"Something?" he asked. "Like what? Whether he is worth abandoning a prince over?"

"Why don't you trust me?" Lover's voice turned pained. "Why are you making such cruel assumptions? You know me better than to hurt you like this."

He snapped, "I'm not hurt."

It wasn't true, she knew. If he weren't hurt, he wouldn't be angry. But he had no reason to be hurt. She didn't love the lord. He might have loved her, but she didn't him. If Prince would just listen to her... "He's a friend. Nothing more. Never more. I promise you. I promise you are the only one I love. Say something sweet to me. Please. Tell me it only shocked you and- and that you love me back. Don't let a pesky letter get in the way of us."

"How long have you been sending letters to him?"

"Prince-"

"How long?"

"Prince, he's just a childhood-"

His words came out as harsh as a whip. "How. Long."

Lover opened her mouth, ready to avoid the question again; it wasn't important, but Prince pinned her with a deadly gaze and a set jaw. She swallowed. "Since I came to [Prince's Kingdom]." She quickly tried to excuse herself again. "His words meant nothing beyond a brother-sisterly love, Prince. He's always told me he loves me. And he's told other friends as well."

"So you are his mistress."

"What? No. That is ridiculous!" Lover suddenly lost her breath at the accusation. She didn't even know what to say. No, she wasn't Friend's mistress! She was his friend! She wasn't lying; she would never lie to Prince. "Listen to me, please. Look me in the eye. Let me prove to you that it's you I love. Please, Prince. You are looking too far into this."

"Leave. Now."

She stood, reaching for him again, but he spun, gripping her arm in a grip he only used against other soldiers in training.

Her breath caught. It didn't hurt; he wasn't squeezing, but his hold was tight. "Prince," There was a whine in her voice. A single tear prickled in Lover's eye before gliding down her cheek. "I'll tell him not to say it anymore. I'll tell him that he should- must," she corrected, seeing the prince's eyes darken with shadows as he titled his head down further at her. "He must tone it down, or else I will not return his letters."

Prince nodded, and for a moment, Lover thought all was well. His grip loosened, but then he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her toward the door. Lover tripped on her own feet, landing with a loud and painful thud.

"Guards!" They stepped in seconds after their prince's call. "Strip her and set her into the woods."

Lover's lips parted and eyes grew wide as she gasped. "What?"

He ignored her shock. "I banish you until the first days of spring. You will not go to [Northwestern Lord]. You will not even enter his domain. You will not enter the kingdom he belongs to, and you will not step into my kingdom until your term is up." Lover listened with rushed breaths as she still sat on the floor. "If I find out you sent even one letter to him, I will have you executed for treason. Am I understood?"

"Prince, you can't- this isn't you. What are you saying?" Her voice was higher than ever before because of her mad panic.

"You had plenty time to tell me about this supposed friend of yours and yet you never did. I'm not hesitating to admit I find you untrustworthy at the moment. For all I know you're spying on me for a kingdom planning to take my own. So I banish you, and if you can prove you have no alliance with [Northwestern Kingdom] then you may come back and we will marry as we planned."

How can you think I want to marry you after this? Lover thought. She didn't dare say it aloud, for fear of him carrying out an execution right then and there.

Prince nodded to her guards. "Strip her, and let her be seen by the people. You will leave her in front of Haggar's Inn, but not before she bears my signature."

"Signature?"

If her heart rate hadn't been insanely fast before, it was now. His 'signature' was a brand used on criminals to let others know to be wary of one's presence. It also served as a symbol of return. Those with visible brands were meant to be returned to the palace immediately. Each category of criminal would be given a brand on a specific body part. If Lover was being banished, the guards would brand the heel of her foot- to make it harder to walk as she wouldn't be given boots.

"Prince-"

"Go. And not another word to anyone of my kingdom until it is time for your return. Goodbye, Lover. I shall hope to meet you again after the cold season."

******

Lost Their Voice from Screaming

Bingo!!!

Original Work!

Lost Their Voice from Screaming

@badthingshappenbingo

TW: needles/syringe

******

"Sh, sh, sh," Villain cooed. Hero was whimpering, begging, as she lay on the metal table Villain had strapped her to. He hovered above her, a needle in hand.

His hand came closer, and Hero could feel sweat forming on her hairline. She jerked a shoulder, a last attempt to break away before the mystery-filled syringe would be plunged into her arm. "Please. Don't- don't do this."

"My dear, I haven't even said what it is. What if I told you it was a liquid candy?" Villain held the syringe up to the light, flicking it and watching as the air bubbles escaped. It was important that he didn't kill his precious subject. She hadn't been repaid for torturing a close friend of Villain's.

"Of course you wouldn't believe me," he said to her, bringing the syringe to eye level. He glanced at Hero, smiling. "It's fascinating to see how fearful you are of a sharp point. I wonder if you'd feel the same way about a knife?" He cocked his head to the side. "A dull blade is funner, more painful, but if you don't like needles...I can accomdate for that." His lips split like stage curtains, showing his teeth, proving how wicked he was. "I think I have an idea. How about instead of stabbing you with a knife, I do it with the needles?"

Hero apologized, to Villain's surprise. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened. We shouldn't have taken [Villain's] Friend. We could have done things differently. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Your words are empty," he told her. "I won't consider them until you understand how Friend felt as you tortured them."

"I didn't do it," Hero tried to use as an excuse. "I never agreed to it. I stepped away while it happened. Villain, I didn't stand for it." Her voice rose with panic as he came closer. She jerked and jerked against her restraints without use. "Villain, please. Please let me go."

He shook his head. "You'll want to stay still, or else I might accidentally poke you more times than necessary- and I don't think you want that."

Hero's breathing picked up, and a trail of chills ran up and down her arms. The needle wasn't even an inch away from her skin. She cried out, now kicking against the restraints. "Please!" Hero screamed, and she said more, but even she couldn't tell what. Her mind was in a frenzy, not understanding anything beyond the crashing waves of fear that were drowning her.

The needle sunk in, and Hero screamed something horrendous. A vicious 'No' escaped her lips one last time before half of her body fell slack just below her neck. The left side tingled for a second before going completely numb, completely still. "Wha-" she tested her voice first, happy to know it still worked- unlike her fingers which she now tried to clench into a fist. "What is this? What did you do to me?" Villain ignored her, moving to her other side, sticking the needle into a small jar with whatever he had already injected Hero with. "No, stop. Stop! What are you doing!"

"A numbing serum- to some extent. You won't feel light touches, see?" Villain reached across Hero, dragging a gloved finger down her arm. He was right; she didn't feel it at all. "Notice I said light touches. You'll feel what I do to you later, and it will be all you feel. It will hurt tremendously." His hand retreated, but he leaned forward, lips on Hero's ear. "You'll wish you were dead," he whispered. Hero felt his lips curve against her.

A small whine rose in her throat as Villain retreated once again, only to return with the needle. She hadn't expected it, and therefore had no time to pathetically fight. Hero was thankful, at least, that her face remained with feeling. "Villain, I didn't do anything to them. Please, please, let me go. I'm not-" I am his enemy. "The others are brutal, and I don't agree with their methods. I don't-" She screamed with freshly sprung tears. Her thigh stung and burned, and the pain...it radiated, as if it had grown roots. The pain was an invasive, spreading plant, throbbing where it went. Hero screamed, cried. Her throat was going raw with just the one stab that Villain gave. "Stop," she shrieked "Stop, it hurts!"

"You said you disagreed with your team's methods, and I believe you. That makes you better than the rest, and that's exactly why I chose you over the others."

Her leg lit on fire once again, like Villain poured gasoline over it. Hero let out a pained holler again, wishing she could grasp her leg, hold it. Was it bleeding? Did he stab her? Was that what this pain was? She couldn't see. She probably didn't want to. But it hurt. It hurt so bad, so irrevocably bad. "Please," she keened. "It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, ithurts, ithurts."

"You're kind, purer than the rest."

"Ah!" Hero's head banged roughly against the table as she gritted her teeth. Her arm was lit on fire now and it spread to her shoulder, nearly into her neck. She stretched her head away from the pain- as if her brain being further away from the source of pain would allow her to just forget about it.

"And in being purer, you don't deserve this."

Another bout of pain and demise blossomed, lower in Hero's arm this time than last. She wanted to ask 'If I don't deserve this then why are you doing it?', but Hero was in so much pain that she couldn't form a single word. All she could do was scream and groan and whine and cry. Her throat was sore on top of it all.

"Did you know that my friend is still in physical therapy? After a whole damn year. Your team wrecked him."

Another plunge of devastation bloomed in her knee. That was the worst stab of them all so far, but now when she screamed, nothing came out except for a wheeze. Her throat was scratchy, her voice gone.

"He'll be in therapy for at least another six months is my guess. He'll heal. You, however," Villain chuckled lowly. "You, I intend to return broken beyond repair."

Hero blinked slowly as Villain seemed to be giving a break. Still, she groaned in immense discomfort and pain. Her breaths became caught in her chest. Please stop. Please stop. She couldn't say it, could barely even think of opening her mouth, in fear that it would tighten the wrong muscle and make the fires ignite all over again.

"Think it's about time to skewer the other knee. What do you think, Hero?"

Somewhat unfortunately- since her words wouldn't matter anyways- she had no voice to oppose. A new fire was struck.

Over-the-Shoulder Carry

Original Work

Over-the-Shoulder Carry

@badthingshappenbingo

One prompt away from a bingo! Who's ready for some more hero/villain action?

******

Eyes rolling back, Hero crashed down to the ground. She'd been trying so desperately to stand, but...it hurt. Everything hurt. And her chest- her lungs felt like a rope had been tied around them and someone was tightening the coils. Hero couldn't breathe.

A struggle larger than standing was keeping her eyes open. The lids kept falling heavily and Hero had to blink wildly to stay awake. If she passed out, she was as good as dead. It was only a matter of time before Villain found her.

It was a sick game Villain was playing with her. He overpowered her, beat her, and then told her to run as far away as she could in the next thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. If Hero looked behind her, she could probably still see him. After all, most of this time had been spent crawling because of her inability to stand, and walk or run.

The field was on fire, and Hero could even feel the heat of a flame near her face, but she was too exhausted to move away. It wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

"In thirty minutes, you could have ran six miles, Hero. I'm disappointed."

Hero barely had the energy to shake her head in fear. She used that small bit of energy to claw at the dirt and pebbled ground, hardly inching forward. She groaned, and gave a high whine as she did so. It looked and sounded pathetic, Hero knew, but she didn't care. Get away, get away, get away.

"Come now, you know you're defeated." Villain clenched his fist around a handful of Hero's shirt, and pulled her up just a few inches off the ground where she was laying.

She cried as he did so, her limbs falling useless in front of her as her body practically hovered.

Fight back, she pleaded with herself. Fight him. But she couldn't. Her limbs were too heavy, and they ached too strongly. Not even her head could lift up. In fact, it was probably the most heavy part of her body.

Her voice came out in a whisper, one that even cracked. "Please."

The villain hummed, laughed, and yanked her up further roughly. She was a rag doll. "After all this time," he whispered gloriously, astonished even by himself and the sight he was able to produce. The hero, under his palm, beaten and bloodied. Useless. Nothing. He'd won. "You're finally mine."

There was a bit of resistance. Hero's shoulders stiffened like she was going to throw herself at Villain to shock him, but it didn't work. Of course it wouldn't. Hero was weak and helpless.

"Kill me."

Villain only heard her voice because of the otherwise silent field. He could hear the burning, but Hero was closer to him than those flames. He heard her, and he chuckled lowly. "Begging for death, is it?"

She made a sound in her throat. Another cry, maybe? Or was she so worn out now that she couldn't even whisper?

"It would be so horrendously boring for me if you were dead." Hero didn't see it, but Villain looked about the field. "All of these people, the people you swore to protect are dead. You failed, Hero. There ought to be a punishment for that."

"Please," Hero keened.

So she could speak.

Effortlessly, Villain grabbed Hero with another hand, tossing her roughly over his shoulder after flipping her so her back faced away from him. One arm remained at his side, while the other held the backs of Hero's knees.

Upon being tossed, Hero hollered a broken scream. Tears swelled in her eyes and her nose stung like it'd been punched. Her ribs settled uncomfortably on Villain's back while her hips rested on his shoulder. Arms dangling with blood rushing to her fingertips, she remained silent, world fading to black between each step Villain made.

Kill me, Hero said again, but only in the confines of her mind did she actually say it. And soon after she didn't have the chance to try and say it again, for the world was gone. It was dark and nonexistent as she passed into unconsciousness.

*****

BTHB Bleeding Through the Bandages

Original work

Bleeding Through the Bandages

@badthingshappenbingo

******

"What the hell are you doing?" Teammate yelled, walking briskly into the training room as Hero threw punches at a makeshift dummy. Their knuckles were bleeding, but that wasn't the worst part.

Hero grunted, before practically falling into the dummy with an arm to hold themselves up. Their other hand held their side, where they felt their palm and fingers becoming wet. They didn't say this, but instead began huffing and puffing harder as if they were more winded than they actually were. They were fine. Teammate would have a fit if they knew Hero reopened their wound, though. It needed to stay hidden. Hero would deal with the bleeding later, when they were done training.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm practicing a few punches." Hero clenched the fist that held their side and hit the dummy on the shoulder with a pathetic thud. "See?"

Teammate shook their head, stepping further into the room. "Well, stop."

"Listen," Hero said sternly, and nothing they were about to say would be an act. "I'm not letting another person overcome my abilities. I was weak. I need to become stronger."

"You're young. You have time to improve on yourself, but right now, you're injured and need to take time to heal. In fact, I think it's time we change your-"

Hero snapped quickly before Teammate could come to their side, "I'm fine, okay? I feel fine and I am fine. Lay off a bit, would you?"

"Take your arm off the dummy."

"What?"

"Your arm," Teammate repeated. "You're using it for support. Take it off the dummy. I want to see how badly you're lying to me."

Hero rolled their eyes. "I'm out of breath. I've been working out for several hours."

Teammate knocked Hero's arm away, not waiting around for a compromise. They watched as Hero's eyes went wide and they began swaying, trying desperately to grasp the dummy again, but just as their fingers came near brushing it, they began to fall back. Teammate was there before Hero could tip passed their heels.

"I wonder," Teammate said, "if you're nearly passing out because of pain or..." They rounded Hero, peering at their clothes- at the growing dark spot. "Or the loss of blood." Teammate sighed. "We're running out of supplies and Villain is on the prowl. I have enough to bandage you once or twice more before we have to resort to strips of cloth." They shook their head. "Come on. Let's go get you patched up again."

******

Betrayal

@badthingshappenbingo

Betrayal

Original Work!

******

It's sunny outside. I can see glimpses of light coming through the bag over my face. It's made of a closer-knit fabric. Perhaps if it were more tightly bound around my eyes then I'd be properly blinded. However, I don't think they care whether I can see if it's day or night. They only care that I can't see where I'm going, and I can't, so they've achieved their goal.

The only thing I question now is why I'm being blinded. I know their base inside and out. Maybe not blindfolded, but the moment they take the bag away from my head, I'll be able to identify where I'm at, where I would need to go for a quick escape if I gained any opportunity to make such an attempt. I'm even aware of the tunnels beneath the property- made of cement, supported every now and then with steel rods. Some of them lead directly to guardhouses, near entrances and exits.

Problem is: (1) I'm blinded, and (2) the weights on my ankles aren't going to let me get far. I'll exhaust myself at least twice as fast if I run with the extra weight. They didn't used to be there, but the Facility workers finally realized I'm more durable than they originally thought.

My toe jams into something and my body jolts at the shock. "Thanks for the warning," I mutter to the person 'guiding' me. Regaining balance isn't all that easy when your hands are stuck behind your back.

"You get what you deserve for trying to run off. Think you'd be let go that easily?"

I shrug, continuing the walk without pause. "Made it further than everyone thought I would." It's true. I heard them all making bets on my attempted escape. Some said I wouldn't make it to the Whipping Square. Others said I would make it just passed it before I was shut down. Want to know where I did make it? The front gates. The front damn gates, and then my whole body spasmed. I'm still not sure if it was electrocution or some gas they let out. Either way, I made it further than they anticipated. Unfortunate, for me, that it wasn't so far they weren't prepared.

My guard, or whatever he is, grumbles something. I don't particularly care what. There's not much to care about here besides maintaining a witty or nonchalant response. Why do I do it? I suppose it's a dignity or pride sort of thing. 'Show no fear.' 'Don't let them break me.' Yada, yada, yada. I don't actively think those things. Most times I just laugh. It's just because of those phrases that I suppose contribute to my responses most of the time. The psych is a silly thing sometimes, isn't it? Makes you do things without you even knowing why.

"Knees."

My brows raise, but no one will see. A shame. I've been told they have a perfect arch. "Knees? I do hope there's a cushion. Do I get a cushion for my noble, knobby knees?"

The guide doesn't find it funny, I guess. He grabs hold of my shoulder before whacking the back of my legs with his own knees and knocking me on mine. A breath draws through my teeth. The impact hurt a wee bit.

"Am I to be beheaded then? Is that it? Brutal," I say. "I should at least hope you preserve my features. It'd be a shame for a pretty face like mine to rot somewhere dank and dirty."

P2 This World Ends

Part 1 here

@badthingshappenbingo

Hair Matted with Blood

Original Work

******

The entire city smelled of metal, and it wasn't because of the smiths like it usually was. Skira used to love listening to their clacks and clanks. The sound of metal pounding on metal, pounding on metal. Anvil, in-the-works weapon, hammer.

She loved the sight smiths produced, too. The red hotness after they stuck a stick of iron into the fire. Funny, that they used iron. Skira assumed they made their weapons to fend off other fae of the area.

Her parents warned her often of other fae- ones that may still be under the gods' command. As far as Skira's parents knew, they were the only community holding a human. Then again, no one would ever actively broadcast they had one, even if they did allow it to live freely within the fae's civil status.

The human they had was nice; Skira spoke to her a few years ago when the human arrived. It was after the killing was over and a small clan went out to take in any leftover humans. The human in Skira's community now was the only one the clan managed to find.

Her name was Paisley. It was almost a fae name, but Paisley pronounced it differently than what the fae would. The human said it was Paisley, not Paizley. Skira called the human Paiz anyway. It was more natural to her.