I started writing this with the intent of it being whump, but well- read it, you’ll see. Not really whump, but I’m still tagging it as such.
Cw: violence, manhandling.
A strangled gasp clawed its way from the hero’s throat, raking against their windpipe as pain exploded from their sternum. The force of the blow knocked them back, stumbling against the wall as the breath rushed to leave their lungs. Brick snagged at the back of their uniform, uneven edges of the stone trying to twist its hold on them by the threads.
Cheap shot. That’s what it was. That’s what Villain was. That cheap, petty, good-for-nothing, disreputable asshole. They fought dirty, like the fucking rat they were. Not an ounce of self-respect to their technique, they would fight tooth and nail. Hero had the scratches, weeping blood down their cheek from where Villain’s fucking claws caught them—when was the last time they cut their goddamn nails? Not to even talk about how much grime was certainly on their hands, Hero was appalled anyone, especially the street rat criminal who practically lived to scrounge around the disgusting alleys, would dare touch anything in the city without gloves on.
Tears welled in their eyes without will, Hero rapidly blinked them back as they pushed themself forwards. Their chest burned, breath lodging in their throat as they used the wall to brace themself in the moments preparation before they lunged back at Villain.
Hands caught their shoulders, but instead of the shove backwards they were anticipating and already planning for, they were tugged forwards, their momentum used in a cruel twist as a knee was brought up to meet their stomach. Hero choked out a gasp, a shock jolting back through their body ad they were manhandled back up and slammed against the bricks. Their head hit back against the wall, without any distance to try and ready themself. Specks of white buzzed in the corners of their eyes, pain like cracking cement ripping through their skull. It dazed them, for a moment too long. Villain’s hands ripped down their arms, calloused fingers wrapping around their wrists and steeling in place like iron. Twisting their arms up and shoving them against the red stones, pinned to either side of the hero’s head.
Then they could feel Villain’s breath against their cheek, warm and intrusive and wrong, their lips so close they almost brushed the shell of Hero’s ear as they leaned in-
“Oh my little Hero,” Villain whispered, their voice so quiet left a resounding echo humming through their mind. They slowly drew back, leaving a numb prickling spreading across their skin as a sudden cold replaced the unwanted heat. They stopped, eyes level with Hero’s. “When will you ever learn? You can’t win against me.”
On any other day, Hero would’ve fought back. They would’ve stomped down on Villain’s foot and returned the blows with the same graceless disorder Villain fought with. But they were tired. Their body hurt and their head buzzed with exhausted anger and what was certainly the forming of one hell of a headache.
But instead they just stood there, letting their head fall back an inch to rest against the brick. Let the criminal take on their weight as they pressed their body against theirs. If Villain was to step back, they’d crumple.
Then slowly, with a certain care to contrast the brutality of the blows they had dealt, Villain shifted Hero’s wrists to one hand, pinning them to the wall above their head while their free hand dipped down to brush along Hero’s jaw, the back of their finger tracing a swelling bruise on their jaw.
“I told you,” Hero murmured, their exhaustion seeping into their tone as Villain’s hand follow the outline of the scratches across their cheek, a nail brushing just outside the bleeding edge. A warmth of touch to battle the chill air. “Not- not the face,”
Villain’s fingers curled beneath their chin, a thumb smoothing softly over a spot on Hero’s wrist.
“Oh love, I’m sorry,” Villain’s eyes softened, tilting the hero’s head to the side as their eyes flicked over the shallow wounds. They leaned in, pressing their lips to Hero’s jaw carefully over the forming bruise. “But when have I ever listened to anything you’ve had to say?” A whisper of the taunt returned to their voice, visible in the spark behind their adoring gaze.
Hero only sighed, the night cold fading into a soothing warmth that bled across their skin as Villain’s hand slipped down to cup their neck, their eyes fluttering closed as the villain guided them in and brought their lips together.
Tomorrow, they’d fight back. Tomorrow they’d repay Villain everything they’d dealt and more.
Cw: abuse, assault, implied kidnapping, head trauma, slight elemental whump
Sidekick walked the streets, their jacket drawn tightly around them. The wind pushed at their back, icy claws raking down their spine as they fought to keep walking. Their hands were stuffed deep into their pockets, but that did nothing to fend off the stiffness settling into their joints, a numbness brewing beneath their fingertips that swelled to engulf their fingers, then their entire hands.
It wasn’t that late. Maybe nine or ten, they weren’t sure. A few hours after their patrol should have ended, they were sure. Their night route was usually easy, usually uneventful. Watch was higher in the evening and through the night, so most experienced criminals knew to lay low during those rush hours, so it was mostly dealing with drunks or street fights.
But no. Not tonight, things weren’t easy. Why would they have been? Considering Sidekick’s luck, they supposed it was nothing short of a miracle that they were able to walk away from a fight with Villain with only a few scrapes and bruises, and maybe a cracked rib, given how the pain in their side worsened with each heavy step and each breath they took a bit too deep. They had been so eager to get back home, to their little shared apartment with Hero, they hadn’t bothered to stop by the infirmary. They could breathe just fine, the pressure wasn’t growing unbearable. Some ice and ibuprofen, they’d be feeling fine in a couple days. They didn’t need to wait for Medic to finally make rounds on them, after treating all of the heroes who were actually injured.
One kidnaps the other (let’s be honest, probably Villain, unless we’re dealing with a reckless and/or immoral hero)
The fight had led them far out of town, and it was too late to get back to the agency/lair.
So they stop at some random inn and get a room.
There’s two beds.
But.
Villain (I’m just going to use Villain as the kidnapper, feel free to switch it to whatever) doesn’t trust Hero not to figure something out. They have had years of training, surely they’d be able to break out of whatever feeble restraints Villain managed to gather.
The only solution, clearly, was for them to share a bed, Villain’s arm wrapped tightly around Hero’s waist for the entirety of the night. Only to make sure they don’t escape.
Cw: workplace abuse, overworking, injuries, sadistic hero, a lot of ignorance on Villain’s part—there’s a lot of funky dynamics and stuff. Implied torture, potentially a teeny bit suggestive
Henchman didn’t mind their job.
The work wasn’t always easy, the hours were unpredictable with many occasions of them being woken in the middle of the night to go assist with some heist or whatnot. There were a lot of long days sitting behind a desk in an empty office, typing up plans or signing papers or proofing whatever scheme Villain had conjured. Their quarters were small and empty, but they supposed that was their own doing. They didn’t exactly reserve time in their schedule to go out decor shopping.
But that was all fine. Being on a federal wanted list was worth it, because they got to work with Villain.
“Bring them a hot coffee when their work drags into the night” Villain. “Leave a snack and something sweet on their desk after they complete a successful mission” Villain. “Stop by their office despite their own cramped schedule just to ask how they were doing” Villain.
They were going on just shy of three years. Three years since they had stepped away from their life and devoted everything to a criminal whom they thought wouldn’t even know their name. Stupid, sure, but it worked out.
I don’t know if this really makes sense, but whatever it’s whumpy
Cw: abuse, blood, general beating, threats, broken bone(s), implied forced to beg, implied/potential torture, collapse, injuries, maybe implied kidnapping
The wind pushed at Hero’s back, cold and violent, howling past their ears. It seemed to fight against their movement, pushing them forwards as they were about to fall back. Urging them forwards, shoving them back to the battle, but the force overpowered them with little effort. Their knees were the first to make contact with the gravely surface of the roof, then their forearms, scraping at the loose cement as they sheltered their face from the impact.
“Giving up already?” The villain snickered, their voice carrying across the night like a leaf caught in the breeze, smooth and clear despite the cacophony that whirled around them. “I knew you were pathetic, Hero, but this? This is sad.”
The click of their tongue cut through the storm with an exaggerated tsk, their boots settling loudly against the ground as they stepped forwards in long, drawn strides. Hero grit their teeth, swallowing back the pained sound that threatened to slip past their red tainted lips. They hadn’t realized there was blood dripping down their face until the coppery taste invaded their mouth, and suddenly they were gagging on it as it dripped down their throat.
A cough spent bits of red spraying from their lips, sprinkling the gravel as they fought to prop themself up on scraped forearms, only for their efforts to quickly be proved in vain as Villain’s foot came crashing into their side, a sledgehammer against their bruised ribs that knocked them down.
The villain only grinned at their pain, each labored wheeze prompting a sharp laugh from the other as they crossed their arms, letting Hero squirm on the ground for a moment and attempt to push themself up once more before taking a single stride forwards, placing their boot lightly across the hero’s palm, only inches from their nemesis’s face.
“How easy it would be for me to break every little bone,” they murmured, eyes flitting between Hero’s face and their hand, trapped beneath their shoe as they slowly shifted their weight, relishing in the little cry that caught in Hero’s chest.
“Nn-n’h,” Hero gasped, their energy nearly drained as they tried to yank their hand away, only prompting the criminal to dig their heel deeper, grinding into the fragile bones. “Vil- Villain, don’t-”
“Ah, ah, Hero,” they chided, grinning madly as Hero’s other hand pried at their ankle, futilely trying to push them away. “You know what I want to hear.“
Hero felt something snap, a white pain exploding up their forearm, accompanied by a cry.
“Go on,” Villain prompted. “Convince me not to Make it believable.”
Oh hey some actual content. Plot? Never heard of it.
Cw: kinda kidnapping? Guns, threats, manhandling, restraints, potential implications of past torture/abuse
It was a quiet night. Snow fell lightly to the ground outside, drifting to the streets, lit softly in the orange glow of the road lamps. The wind was gentle, peaceful, but that didn’t take away from its bitter cold sting as it pricked exposed skin.
Hero sat on their couch, a blanket spread across their lap and an empty cup of tea on the end table. Embers glowed in the hearth below the mantle, the flames that had once ate away at bark with a burning vigor having settled into a soft crackle. Hero knew they ought to add another log, that the coals wouldn’t last too much longer on their own, but for now they were too exhausted to do much other than sink back into the cushions.
Their curtains were drawn shut, blocking the view of the slow storm outdoors. The winds fluctuated, intensity raising and dropping as the minutes ticked by into the long hours before dawn.
When hero was woken up, the fire had gone out. Their TV had lapsed from the movie they were watching into whatever late night cable movie no one had ever heard of. They blinked slowly, one hand raising to rub the sleep from their eyes as the other fumbled for the remote, clicking off the screen after a moment of disorientation. They didn’t have a minute to question what had woken them up before their unasked question was answered as they heard it again. A small knock, they didn’t think they would have noticed if it wasn’t now completely silent throughout their home.
Okay okay okay so. Hear me out. Villain that is really afraid of pain and hero that loves to frighten them 👀
Cw: kidnapping, implied torture, restraints, partial noncon nudity (not sexual, just a shirt), sadistic whumper, mentioned mouth whump (nothing happens), algophobia, stress position-ish, knives, blood, pet names
“Stop- stop it, let me go,” Villain spat, their voice thick with venom, half drowned out by the loud clanking of chains as they thrashed and twisted, kicking out whenever the Hero got close enough. The whole act might have been more menacing though, if it wasn’t for the fresh tears streaming down the criminal’s cheeks, for their ragged gasps as they struggled to catch their breath.
Hiii, first time requesting, hope I'm doing this correctly. Let's get strAight tO busInEss~~
So, I had this idea about a Hero who for some reason has retired (from hero business, left their agency etc.) and after maybe two three years they're living a quite normal life as a simple citizen. And tho Hero left everything about their old life behind, their old enemy, Villain, seeks bloody revenge from them (haven't thought of a good reason, could be personal, feelings or wtvr) and one day decides to kidnap them and carry out their revenge plan. Do they torture them? Sell them to some pretty bad people to be taken advantage of, then returned when broken? Drug them? Destroy their life? You name it.
kdkwks I haven't thought of an ending and really it's okay if you decide not to develop the idea but it would be SO SO SO AMAZING if you could please make it happen 👉👈<3
No pressure tho, and keep up then good work, we appreciate you 💛
OOOOO I LOVE THIS IDEA OMG YES
Let’s get straight to business.
(The build up to the whump is a bit long, my apologies <3)
Getting out of the business had been a long, exhausting process. It seemed as if any time they tried to formally submit their letter of resignation, some new villain would arise and start wreaking havoc in their city, delaying them another month. Between all the formalities and legal issues, from the time they submitted the first notice to the day they were clearing out their office in the agency, almost a full year had passed.
It had all been worth it, however, when they collapsed onto their bed and woke up feeling rested for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Being a hero had been fun at first, an impulse decision that they had made as a broke graduate, drowning in student loans and finances. The agency had covered everything, from their apartment contract to their grocery bills. Hero had had everything they could ever dream of owning, and all they had to do was dress up in some fancy armor and watch over the city a couple hours each day.
It was easy, back then. Rarely any problems, the worst threat they had encountered was some bastard trying to break into a corner store. It could barely be considered a fight, the man armed only with a baseball bat.
But as the days passed, things got worse and worse. Petty thieves turned into full on supervillains, individuals armed with weapons of mass destruction and no morals to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Between the police reports, interviews, crime fighting and talk shows, Hero was exhausted.
In the beginning, they had wondered why anyone would ever not want to be a hero.
By the end, they realized why the face of the city’s defender changed by the month.
It took them a while to tie up all the loose ends, but they couldn’t have been more relieved once it was over. They worked a normal job, with normal hours and fair wages. They spent their free time reading, wandering the city streets; just enjoying a life that wasn’t constantly in danger.
It was so wonderful.
They almost weren’t surprised when that all came crashing to an end.
• • •
It had been a day like any other. Hero got up with the sun, made themself a quick coffee and took a jog around the block before getting ready for work.
Their job as a host to a local diner was easy. Say hello, seat the tables, make a bit of small talk until the waiters came to take over. Usually business was slow, but that was okay, leaving Hero lots of time to relax.
This, too, was a rather slow day. Only a handful of customers had stopped by in the morning, and they didn’t stay long. By four in the afternoon, after the small lunch wave, Hero found the diner empty except for themself and their coworker.
“I’m taking ten,” Coworker called, untying their apron and tossing it over the coat rack.
Hero nodded, not looking up from the book which they were reading. “Enjoy.”
And as Coworker retreated into the back, Hero found themself alone.
Usually they didn’t mind being by themself- they enjoyed it actually. Peace and quiet, just them and their thoughts. But today.. something felt off. The moment they heard the back room’s door shut, a sense of unease pricked their gut, the hairs along the back of their neck standing on end.
Hero looked up, a sour taste settling in their mouth as they quickly closed the book and got to their feet.
If there was one thing their years of heroism had taught them, it was to always trust their instincts.
And now, their instincts were telling them something was seriously wrong.
Their skin began to crawl as they did a quick once-over of the diner. All that met them was scuffed floors and empty booths.
A few moments later, they shrugged it off. Maybe something was happening outside, an accident or a robbery. But as long as it wasn’t within the four walls of the diner, as long as it wasn’t within Hero’s little sanctum, it wasn’t their problem.
• • •
The nagging feeling seemed to follow them home that night, as Hero got off their shift half past eight. They were on edge as they walked home. Though the streets were busy, bustling with people and crowded with cars, Hero couldn’t help but feel isolated, picked apart from the crowd by some unseen force. They could almost feel eyes burning into their back, following each little movement they made, but each time they looked up they were met only by a sea of moving bodies, faceless people that maneuvered past them with ease.
It was beyond unnerving.
The feeling didn’t shake as they returned to their apartment, taking care to deadbolt the door and lock all the windows. But even after they snapped the curtains shut, blocking off their last bit of connection with the outside world, the sensation persisted.
They decided to sleep in the guest bedroom that night, a kitchen knife conveniently clutched under their pillow. The room was likely the most secure in the house, with only one alley-facing window. Furthest from the front door, it’s entry tucked in the corner of the living room, one wouldn’t notice at first glance.
Though the precautions were minimal, and in hindsight, quite futile, they allowed Hero a false sense of security, just enough to lull them to sleep without a second thought.
One thing that had changed in their years since hero work, Villain noticed, as they slowly slid the syringe’s needle into Hero’s neck and depressed the plunger. They slept a lot heavier than before.
Convenient for them, Villain shrugged, waiting a few moments until they were sure the drugs kicked in before hefting the sleeping Hero over their shoulder. It sure made their job a lot easier.
• • •
When Hero came to, the first thing they noticed was how cold it was. A deep chill seemed to have settled in their bones overnight, stiffening their body and clouding their mind.
They were never sleeping in the guest bedroom again…
A small groan slipped from their lips as Hero began to raise their hand to rub their eyes, only for a sharp pinch to catch their wrist, splitting the skin.
They hissed in pain, eyes flying open and squinting against the light. It took a few moments for the world around them to shift into focus, a palette of blurred greys sharpening to a vast floor of concrete.
Ahead of them, for a good twenty feet, a room stretched out, lit by flickering bulbs. Cement floors connected to cement walls, little divets and grooves in the flooring being the only thing they could see.
Hero’s brows furrowed, their lips parting in a slur of confused, incomprehensible sounds as they looked down.
Their hands were bound tight to the armrests of a chair, leather restraints pinching their skin at the buckles. Their shirt was in tatters, the sleeves ripped clean off to expose the numerous scars that littered their arms, reminders of their days in the business. The fabric was sliced clean down the front, cold air having full access to their exposed skin.
What the fuck..
Hero tried to twist their head, a confused cry for help tearing from their throat as they quickly discovered that their head too was restrained, a strap across their forehead forcing their head straight. Rough leather dug into their ankles as they kicked and thrashed in vain. They could barely move as it was, their efforts quickly rendering them exhausted.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” A voice from behind them sighed, the sharp clicks of heels echoing as a figure stalked around their chair. “I expected more from you, Hero.”
“Wha- who are y’hh?!” Hero’s voice dragged out, still affected by whatever drug that must have been coursing their system.
The figure sighed, stopping just in front of them. Though their face was clear in sight, the stark lighting casting deep angles across the stranger’s face, Hero’s mind drew a blank when it came to recognition.
“Are you serious?” Their kidnapper growled, shoving their face close to Hero’s, watching as the other’s eyes widened in fear. “Two years, and you’ve already forgotten me?!”
“…Oth’rvillain?” Hero’s voice came out a mere squeak, riddled with terror as they shrunk back in their chair.
Villain’s face darkened, their hand flying before they could fully register what they were doing, striking Hero hard across the face.
“You better be fucking joking,” They spat over the Hero’s pained cry, reaching forwards to grab them by the jaw.
“Shh-‘id- Villain-” Hero gasped, cringing as Villain dug their nails into their jaw. “Ff- sr’ry-”
“Oh god you’re pathetic,” Villain hissed, pushing their face so close to Hero’s they could feel their breath, hot and sticky against their cheek. Their entire body stiffened as Villain reached back into their pocket and pulled out a knife- the very dagger that had haunted their dreams since Hero’s resignation. The one that they could so clearly remember splitting their skin and slicing their muscles in the midst of battle, just the sight makings their mind go into a panic.
A terrible sinking feeling brewed in the pits of Hero’s chest, their stomach flipping as Villain slowly raised the knife to their chest, tracing the tip of the blade over an old scar with just enough pressure to scratch but not split the skin.
“It’s been a while, darling,” Villain whispered as they leaned in close, brushing their lips against Hero’s ear. “I’ve missed you.”
Hero squeezed their eyes shut, a small whine dying in their throat as Villain dragged the blade down, carving a shallow gash across the length of their chest. Warm crimson blood beaded against their skin, an uncomfortable heat rising to the surface of the wound.
“Well,” Villain chuckled, eyes sparkling with amusement as they pulled back, watching as Hero’s blood began to spill. “I’ve missed your screams.”
*long dramatic sigh* fiiineee Ig I could be a good friend and giev you an idea instead of manipulating you to go on tiktok- KSSKDKDD
What abouttttttt Villain finding out Hero has been treating Sidekick badly
Hehe oki bye imma go on tik tok instead of writing :3
Cw: sidekick referred to “kid”/“kiddo” but is 18+, mentioned torture and death, past noncon body mod, past abuse, captivity
Sidekick paced the length of the cell, their hands twisting together anxiously as they glanced around the room for the thousandth time.
Cement walls, flickering lights, security camera in the corner—it was exactly what was to be expected in the cellar of a villainous hideout.
They let out a frustrated huff, slumping down against the wall.
Shit, Hero was going to be pissed.
All week, sidekick had been “slacking” in training. They hadn’t been working to the standard which Hero demanded; they’d pulled a few punches, slowed a few kicks. And look where they were because of it. They knew exactly what would wait for them upon rescue.
Sidekick almost hoped Hero would never come for them.
Villain’s henchmen had been surprisingly gentle when transporting them. All throughout their training, Hero had taught them that getting captured was a death sentence, that Villain would kill them long before they ever got the chance to escape. They were told they’d be tortured, beaten within an inch to death and then a bit more, humiliated and dehumanized until Villain finally got bored and put them out of their misery.
So far, they had just been escorted to the cell—not even restrained—given water and told that Villain would be with them soon.
Hell, even the cell wasn’t that bad. A desk, a modest little toilet and sink—there was even a cot, topped off with a blanket and pillow. It was small, sure, but not uncomfortably so. They could move and pace, making them feel less… trapped.
Sidekick didnt dare touch the bed though. Even though it was cold, and they wanted nothing more than to wrap themself in the blanket and forget the day they just had, they didn’t want to risk getting comfortable. Comfortable meant letting their guard down, and letting their guard down meant nothing good.
There was no clock in the room, but Sidekick didn’t have to wait long before they heard the door click open. They quickly scrambled to their feet, standing up just as Villain walked in.
Sidekick wasn’t sure what they had been expecting. A knife, a whip, hell, just Villain. But never had they expected their boss’s enemy, the criminal mastermind to walk in, wearing normal clothes and free from a mask, carrying a tray of steaming food.
“Hey kiddo,” Villain greeted, crossing the room to set the tray down on the desk. “Sorry for the wait. You holding up okay?”
Sidekick faltered, their eyes going wide. What the hell…?
Villain chuckled, stepping aside and motioning towards the food. “Not what you expected?”
Sidekick just shook their head, swallowing dryly as they pressed a bit further against the wall. What was going on?? Why was villain being so… kind?!?
“Look, kid, I don’t know what Hero told you, but I’m not gonna hurt you.” Villain crossed their arms, their eyes full of nothing but concern as they watched Sidekick’s gaze dart between themself and the tray. “Its not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Potentially poisoned food was just about the last of Sidekick’s worries at thay time, but they must have made a face, because Villain moved back towards the tray, picking up a single green bean and popping it in their mouth.
“See?” They swallowed, leaving back against the wall. “Not poisoned. I’m many things, Sidekick, but I promise you I’m not a liar.”
A moment of tense, awkward silence passed before Villain let out a long sigh.
“Would you just say something, kid? It feels like I’m talking to myself here.”
Sidekick’s face went pale, and they shook their head, huddling further in the corner. Fuck, fuck, fuck-
Villain groaned, pushing up off the wall in a quick movement and crossing the room. Sidekick’s breath hitched, their eyes going wide as Villain quickly approached.
“Just talk to me, kid,” Villain stopped just in front of them, every thought in their mind screeching to a dead halt as their eyes fell to Sidekick’s neck.
More specifically, the thin pink scar etched deep into their skin.
“Shit,” They breathed, everything beginning to click into place as Sidekick cowered.
Okay I see all the continuation requests but rn im really in the mood for new stuff so- if anyone has requests feel free to send them lol
(I’ll get to them one day I promise <3)
Cw: hand whump, captivity, restraints, abuse, torture, needles, bruises
The room was poorly lit and cold, goosebumps dotted along Sidekick’s exposed skin. They shivered, squinting through the darkness as they tried to look around Villain’s back to see whatever they were fiddling with on the table, hidden from their view.
“Wha- whadd’ya doin?” Their voice dragged out, slurred through their swollen lips. A drop of bloody saliva trickled down their chin, dripping to stain the tattered neckline of their shirt.
Villain just chuckled, turning a moment later so Sidekick could see what they held.
Their breath caught.
In their gloved hands, Villain held a relatively small, clear plastic case, nearly overflowing with… sewing needles?!
Sidekick blinked quickly, trying to clear the tears from their bruised eyes, sure that their vision was betraying them.
Villain hadn’t been at all gentle getting them to where they were now. At every little stumble, every little sound that slipped from Sidekick’s lips as they were dragged blindfolded through the halls of Villain’s compound had only earned them a swift punch to the face, a kick to the back. Their entire body throbbed painfully, their skin swallowed by one big, angry bruise.
“Now,” Villain’s voice was cool snd smooth, their expression a mask of cold indifference as they knelt down by the chair which Sidekick was tied to, plucking a single needle free from the container. “You are going to tell me everything you know about the agency.”
Sidekick’s breath hitched, their bloodshot eyes going wide as Villain brought the needle up to their pinkie finger, the tip digging into the joint just enough to draw a drop of blood.
“Sure these don’t seem like much,” The criminal hummed, filling the void of Sidekick’s silence. “One, two, oh they’re tolerable..”
Sidekick let out a small whimper as the needle was pressed into their finger, a small prick of agony shooting through their restrained hand and up their arm.
“But tens, hundreds of them,” Villain chuckled, their lips twitching back into a cruel grin as they watched tears brim in Sidekick’s eyes, readying another needle. “You’ll find that they are quite unbearable.”
Villain tossed and turned on the cold, hard floor, struggling to find comfort.
The ceiling lights were stark white, illuminating each little crevice in the walls and floor and highlighting the dried blood splattered across the cement.
Maybe if they had access to their arms, they would’ve been able to so something to better their situation. But with their wrists still twisted behind their back, chained there with shackles that drained every last bit of their power and energy from their malnourished body, Villain wasn’t able to do anything other than lie there. Their head pounded, a pain only fueled by their dehydration and the bright lights.
They didn’t know how long they had been left there, alone. It had to have been days by now, weeks even. They had no way to tell.
The lights never shut off. The constant assault against their eyes led to Villain barely getting any sleep, staying awake for hours on end just staring at the wall.
A scream tore from Hero’s throat as the crowbar slammed hard against their side, a sickening crack filling the air as a white hot agony engulfed Hero’s ribs. Their vision darkened, their senses zoning out until all they were aware of was the pain, the terrible pain that flooded every cell in their body and overwhelmed their mind.
Villain laughed as their scream broke into a sob, watching as Hero’s body crumpling in on itself, until they were only held up by the chains snared around wrists.
“Aw, why aren’t you just pathetic,” Villain chuckled, stepping forwards as they spun the crowbar in their hand, hooking the curved end under Hero’s chin and using it to tilt their head up. Their grin only grew as they examined Hero’s abused face, dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look all bloodied up?”
Hero tried to responded, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper as they recoiled from the touch, a shiver creeping up their spine.
Villain bellowed a laugh, pulling the bar away and letting Hero’s head fall back down.
“Remember what you said to me earlier?” They asked suddenly, heels clicking against the cement floor as they circled the limp hero, eyes flicking up and down their helpless enemy’s body as they debated where to land their next blow.
Hero didn’t respond. Even if they could, they weren’t sure what they would have said.
“No?”
“Yes?”
“Fuck off you fucking piece of shit?”
What was Villain even talking about?!
Villain waited a moment, before slamming the crowbar against Hero’s kneecap.
“You answer me when I speak to you,” Villain growled over the guttural scream that Hero let out.
“Nn-nnnnnhhh-” Hero gasped, swaying unsteadily as the chains dug into their wrists.
“No you don’t remember?” Villain tilted their head, the corners of their lips twitching. In a swift movement, they stepped forwards and grabbed a fistful of Hero’s sweaty, matted hair, yanking their head up to meet their eyes. “You said you would never break,” They filled in, grinning as they wrenched Hero’s face closer to theirs, looking straight into their swollen, bruised eyes of their captive.
Hi!! I love your writing and I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you might consider writing about a Hero that gets drugged and kidnapped by an obsessed Superhero? Maaaaybe Villain has to rescue them?? Only if you want to of course!!
HEHEHEHEH OF COURSE!! This kinda strayed from my original plan but I like how it turned out hehehe
My most sincere apologies to those requests I have yet to answer motivation is weird and idk I just got a big “DING DING DING YOURE GONNA WRITE THIS ONE NOW” feel
Six arrests, two casualties, and fourteen police reports, all spread across a twelve-hour period would be enough to drive even the strongest of heroes to the point of madness
The moment they passed over the threshold to their little apartment, Hero let the last bit of their resolve fall as they yanked off their armored jacket and carelessly tossed it to the floor. They didn’t even wait to hear the door slam shut before they crossed the room and promptly collapsed onto the couch, burying their face in the lumpy pillow with a groan.
Just as they were about to experience the closest thing to “relaxing” as they had all day, a low voice from the kitchen jolted them out of their newfound peace.
“You know, you really should start locking the door,” Superhero chuckled, their heels clicking as they stepped around the small kitchen island.
Hero sighed, their initial panic quickly fading into a bitter annoyance as they buried their face back in the pillow.
“‘m not in the mood for a lecture,” They groaned, squeezing their eyes shut as Superhero’s footsteps neared closer.
“That’s not what I’m here for,” Superhero chuckled, reaching a hand down to ruffle Hero’s hair. “I know you had a long day, I thought I’d make you a nice tea to help you calm down,” They offered, carefully crouching down next to the couch as they stroked their gloved finger’s through the Hero’s knotted hair.
After a moment, Hero peeked up from the pillow. “Really?” They asked, eyes widening slightly as they saw the steaming mug held delicately in Superhero’s hand. “But I ran out weeks ago-”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I bought some for you,” Superhero smiled, playing with Hero’s hair as they slowly sat up. “Your favorite too, chamomile!”
Hero’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as they carefully took the cup, nearly melting as they watched the steam drift into the air.
It was still hot.
“Thank you so much,” Hero smiled, the first genuine smile they had had all day—hell, all week.
Superhero smiled back, their hand slowly trailing down to rub Hero’s shoulder, their eyes filled with adoration as Hero raised the mug to their lips.
“It’s the least I could do, sweetheart,” Superhero assured, swiftly shifting from the floor to the couch, sitting next to Hero as they continued to massage their shoulders, working out the knots and stress. “This city doesn’t give you the love you deserve…”
Hero sighed, finishing the drink in four large sips before setting the mug down and fully leaning into Superhero’s touch.
Three months ago, Hero wouldn’t have ever thought they’d be where they were now. They were a rookie, new to the city and unknown amongst the citizens. Then, their only hope had been to not be living off the streets.
Now… they we’re living in their own—albeit small—apartment, in the arms of the one whom they had once barely dared to dream of talking to for fear of getting their hopes up.
Hero sighed, their vision unfocusing as they melted into Superhero’s embrace. They were so warm inside, it felt so good…
Something was wrong.
“Wait-” Hero’s eyes widened and they quickly pulled away from Superhero. Or at least they tried to. All that came out was a muffled sound somewhere along the lines of “mmmrhhhngggg” as they squirmed weakly.
“Shhhh,” Superhero whispered, their arms tightening around Hero as they rested their chin on their head. “Just close your eyes, darling, I’ll take good care of you…”
“Nnn.. nnnhhhmm….” Hero’s eyes unfocused again, drifting shut as they slumped into Superhero’s embrace.
No no nononono-
•••
Something was wrong.
Villain realized as they paced their study, boots clicking against the wooden floors as they walked. Their arms crossed tightly over their chest, fidgeting with their cape as they closely watched the live feed broadcasted across their screen.
Screams and explosions cut through the tension of the room, but Villain didn’t flinch as they squinted through the pixelated image.
“Goddamn it, where are they?!” Villain finally shouted, slamming their fist against their desk.
Henchman startled slightly, looking up from their tablet. “I- I don’t know boss, no one’s seen them since last week..”
Villain growled in frustration, their nails digging into the wood as they leaned forwards. “Detonate the third bomb.” They ordered, eyes locked against the screen. “Lets see if that’ll draw our little friend out of hiding..”
Little did they know, Hero was in fact hiding. But not from them, no, not at all.
Curled into the back of a closet, tucked among old coats and mothballs, Hero sat with a hand pressed tightly over their mouth, tears brimming in their eyes as the fresh bruises around their throat and wrists throbbing painfully.
“Oh Heroooo,” A sing-song voice called as loud, heavy footsteps stomped about outside. “You can’t hide forever, love. I- I’m sorry if I scared you earlier but I just want to talk- really! Just come on out…”
Content Label: Mature
The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.
Cw: kidnapped, restraints, bruises, broken bones, captivity, cells, blood, injuries, property destruction, bank robbing, bombs, medical neglect, rough wound care (mentioned), manhandling, noncon touching, broken nose, collapse
The world tilted around them, colors and sounds blurring together as Villain limped forwards, their muscles drawn stiff as they were escorted through the maze of halls.
Their hands were bound tight behind them, arms wrenched into an awkward position by the power inhibiting cuffs. Two guards, dressed in bleak grey uniforms flanked them, each with a grip on their arm forcing Villain forwards.
The stark lights of the compound burned Villain’s eyes, making them to squint in any attempts to see clearly. A sharp throb echoed through their skull, like a heartbeat in the back of their head, reminding them that they were still alive.
After the day they just had, it was easy to forget.
Cw: possible death, murder, stabbing, angst, blood, crying, sad, feel like I’m missing something
A sob slipped from Hero’s lips as they clutched the limp form closer to their body, trembling fingers pressed tightly against their apprentice’s chest.
“Sidekick, st-stay with me-” Hero’s voice cracked, tears distorting their vision as warm, sticky blood soaked through the thick material of their gloves.
Below them, Sidekick let out a whimper, their clouded eyes unseeing as they gazed into the distance.
“Ple-please Sidekick, help- help is coming,” Hero promised, their other hand moving to clumsily push Sidekick’s bangs from their forehead. Stroking their hair, providing them with as much comfort as they could in these terrible moments.
Above them, thunder rolled across a dark sea of clouds as a bolt of lightning split the sky, for a moment illuminating the stain of scarlet that soaked the front of Sidekick’s uniform.
Somewhere in the far distance, a siren wailed.
“Come- cmon sidekick- please- please hold on,” Hero begged as tears streamed down their flushed cheeks, cutting pathways through the blood and grime. All of their own pain faded to the back of their mind, their bruised bones and tired muscles no longer meaning a thing.
Nothing meant a thing when their best friend was dying in their arms.
Sidekick’s breath hitched, the fog behind their eyes dissipating in a moment of clarity.
“He-hero-” They rasped, their pupils dilating as they focused on their mentor’s face.
Villain let out a small cry, their entire body stiffening as Hero eased them down onto the couch. Their breath came in short, shallow bursts, each rise and fall of their chest causing a fresh bolt of pain to shoot through their chest.
“Shhh, shhh, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, their voice frantic and hushed as they took a quick step back, raising their hands as if they were afraid to hurt villain more. “I’m sorry- we can’t stay here long, we only have like ten minutes until the police get here-”
Their rambling was cut off as Villain let out another groan, clapping a hand over their mouth as they tried to stifle a cry, barely containing themself.
“Ff-fuck, get- get th-” They whimpered, a tear dripping down their flushed cheek as they clutched the rag tighter against the wound. Warm blood bubbled up from the terrible cut , soaking through the scraps of fabric and staining the cushions below them.
“Oh-” Hero blanched, suddenly remembering what the whole point of returning to their apartment was. They quickly turned, dashing to the bathroom and throwing open the cabinets door.
Toothbrushes and combs, bottles of unopened shampoo and conditioner flew through the air, creating a commotion that would have been comical given any other situation.
“I GOT IT!” Hero yelled, nearly hitting their head on the sink as they stood up, tripping over their own feet as they sprinted back to the living room.
In a quick movement, they ripped open the first aid kit, and dumped the contents out on the rug.
Bandaids… gauze… q-tips.. -was that a flashlight?
Hero didn’t have time to question Villain’s organization as they found what they were looking for, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and a stray piece of gauze.
“Villain- hey Villain, I need you to look at me,” Their voice was higher than normal, their nerves seeping into their tone as they watched the bloodstain across Villain’s front but surely grow. “You know- you know that once I start this, I- I won’t be able to stop, right?” They asked as they twisted the cap off the bottle, soaking the solution onto the gauze.
Villain only whimpered in response, their face scrunching in pain as they slowly pulled their hand away from the wound, allowing Hero access.
Hero’s stomach flipped, bile creeping up the back of their throat as they examined the deep gash across the mess of blood and muscle that was once Villain’s abdomen.
“This- this is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, quickly bringing the gauze to the wound.
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