Teammate watches Villain, their longtime rival, be captured and dragged away by their allies. They know Villain is being held somewhere on the base, but they shove the thought aside and carry on as normal… Until they need advice on a matter their team can’t help them with.
They make their way to the containment floor, and find Villain, sneering and making sarcastic jibes as usual. But then the image of them starts to flicker, and Teammate realizes it’s just an illusion. Real Villain is chained in the corner of the cell, exhausted and beaten.
“Sorry,” they mutter. “Didn’t want you to see me like this.”
The hero discovers just how the authorities are “interrogating” the villain
The hero sat in the visitation room. All other tables were empty.
The villain was led in by two guards, hands cuffed together, and then to the table as they sat him down across from the hero.
“You know why I’m here?” the hero asked.
“Because you missed my pretty face?” the villain retorted, humor lacking in his voice. He kept his eyes on his hands. Dark rings clung under his eyes, and he had a nasty cut on his lip. The hero had given him that, but… shouldn’t it be more healed up by now?
“I have questions,” the hero said.
“What food would I recommend from the prison cafeteria? Well, I-”
The villain coughed and winced, drawing in a sharp breath. He flexed his fingers, and the hero looked at his hands for the first time. All of his fingernails were either blackened or covered in bandages. The hero reached out to take his hand and examine them.
The villain yanked back suddenly, as far as the handcuffs would allow. He breathed raggedly and eyed the guard standing behind the hero. With a pained gulp, he laid his hands flat on the table. The hero followed his gaze.
TW: references to past torture, fantasy religion, references to past consensual relationship, VAGUE reference to possibility of noncon and how it didn’t happen.
There was a brief hissing noise and a whiff of sulfur to Alsander’s left, further into the alley, as a doorway opened in what had been the solid stone of a wall.
With a flicker of red light, a cloaked figure stepped out into the alley, turned, and stared at him. “Harrow—!” Then she was there in front of him, her hood dropping about her shoulders, patting his chest as if to be sure he was solid and real, raising a soft hand to touch his face. “You’re alive, it’s you!”
He caught her hand gently. “Risha… Don’t, please— Not like that— I can’t.“
“Harrow— Nine Hells, what happened to you??” said Risha, tears filling her huge dark eyes. She was a succubus, and in her current form of a pale human woman with ample curves and sheets of blue-black hair; no horns, wings, or tail in evidence now. “I couldn’t find you!! I’ve been looking everywhere, and all I could get was that you hadn’t left this plane, but you were just gone! Where were you? Who did this to you??”
HI! This story is still an ongoing series! With a plot and plans ahead! The Plague had me pretty de-railed from writing steadily, but I AM still writing this anyway!
Lily belongs to @whumpqhs and Tristan to @adarhysenthe and this would not get written without them.
TW: food, fantasy religion, internalized ableism, whumpee becoming accustomed to visible disability and loss of former self image and the strangeness associated, mind control mention, touch aversion, PTSD triggering, panic attack
Tristan spent the next week helping Alsander to eat regular meals and regain a little strength. Lily, of course, continued fussing over San the whole time, but some of what Emmet said seemed to be slowly sinking in. She would still awkwardly change the subject if future plans were ever discussed. Emmet, meanwhile, was being introduced to squire life in the Temple. He still took time out to see the friends when he had his breakfast or luncheon breaks, and excitedly tell them about things he was learning.
Once Alsander could shuffle around upright for longer than a few minutes, they agreed that it was time to see a barber, get San a good walking stick, and maybe even find a ring of mind shielding. His dreams had been quiet since the soul-wound had been healed, and he was improving more rapidly for the rest he’d been getting, but he still didn’t like the idea of Conroy possibly being able to send thoughts to his head. The walking stick was the definite need, first and foremost. The more time San could spend moving, the stronger he’d get.
Tristan shrugged on his clerical robes over his more casual tunic and trousers, then helped to get some boots on Alsander’s feet. “You ready? You can lean on my arm until we get you that stick.”
Made possible by @whumpqhsand@adarhysenthe who are responsible for Lily and Tristan, respectively.
TW: Arguments, murder mention, fantasy religion, very skewed worldview of trauma survivor, aftermath of torture
Tristan went to Alsander’s private room in the Healing Halls, knocking once before he moved to open the door to warn his skittish charges he was coming in. “I’m back.”
At his knock, the door opened and Lily slipped out, looking tired and a little tense. “He’s asleep…"
Halted, Tristan backed up to give her space to get through the door. “That’s alright, I want to talk to you in private anyway. About your…” He touched his own ears.
I know this is my third time drawing fanart, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was very inspired to draw this moment. So, here’s the hug from the reunion. That chapter was so freaking good.
The lights were already turned on in Villain’s room when Hero walked in. Hero felt exposed under the bright fluorescent lights, wearing nothing to hide his identity from Villain. He closed the door behind him but made no move to walk in further.
The room reminded him of Villain’s apartment. There was a twin-size bed, a desk and chair, and a closet with no door or hangers. And there were, unsurprisingly, no windows in the room.
“[Villain],” he said, “I know you’re in here. There’s nowhere for you to hide.”
Hero waited patiently. Well, as patiently as he could. The room was uncomfortably quiet. He took a few steps forward. Wherever Villain was hiding, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t visible from this vantage.
“It’s just me. [Hero],” he continued. “I wanted to see how you’ve been doing. The city hasn’t been the same without you.”
After another tense silence, Hero was tired of waiting. Coaxing Villain out was clearly a waste of time.
He circled the bed. Villain wasn’t hiding there. He checked under the desk. Villain wasn’t there either. Nor was he crouched in between the wall and the closet, which left only one place left for him to check.
He peered around the corner into the bathroom, which, like the closet, did not have a door for privacy. It was small and cramped. The light was already on, dim, but bright enough to illuminate the floor to ceiling tile.
He stepped into the bathroom, and was greeted by his own reflection in the mirror above the sink. It was strange looking at himself now. Ever since they locked Villain up, Hero had changed in an indescribable way. He daresay that he looked betternow that Villain was gone.
On the floor, a trail of water led to the shower. And that was where Hero finally found him.
Villain, who he hadn’t seen so long, was now hiding in the shower. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, and his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He was shaking quite badly.
Hero approached him. He crouched down so that only a few inches stood between them.
“Go away,” Villain said, voice muffled.
“I’m here to help you.”
“You put me here.”
Hero tried to put a hand on his knee; Villain jerked away. His clothes were soaking wet, clinging to him like a second skin.
“I did it for you own good,” Hero lied. It was easier to pretend this way, that he didn’t do it for his own selfish reasons. He asked, “Why are your clothes wet?”
For the first time tonight, Villain finally looked at him. “I was showering,” he said.
“With your clothes on?” Hero questioned.
“Yes. There’s… There’s no privacy in here. They watch every move I make. I can’t be sure that they aren’t watching me in here too.”
Villain sounds paranoid, but Hero keeps that to himself. Instead, he brushes a dripping lock of Villain’s hair aside. He doesn’t flinch this time.
“I could get you out of here,” Hero said simply.
“No,” Villain denied.
“You said so yourself. I put you in here, so I can get you out.”
Villain shook his head. “You’re lying to me.”
“Well… I may want one thing in return,” Hero admitted. Ge rubbed his hand up and down Villain’s leg. Villain’s eyes went wide.
“Don’t touch me!” Villain shrieked, kicking his legs out and pushing Hero away. Ge was pushing himself further into the corner, but there was nowhere to go. “Go away! Get out!”
Hero backed away. Showing his palms to Villain, he said, “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“That’s what they all say!”
“I was going to say…” Hero trailed off. “I’ll convince them to let you go if—”
“No. I don’t want to hear it.”
“—if you’ll agree to live with me. In my penthouse. Just the two of us and the city skyline.”
“Why on earth would I agree to that?” Villain stared at him incredulously. I’d rather—I’d live anywhere other than with you!”
Hero shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Considering that Villain basically lived in a basement before he came here, Hero thought he’d be grateful for the offer. Seriously, Hero was offering to do him a big favor. And for nothing in return.
Hero stood up. There was nothing left for him here. Maybe he would go out for a late night dinner before heading home, he thought. Maybe he’d find a new enemy.
“Wait. Where are you going?” Villain asked.
“Home,” Hero replied. “It was nice knowing you, [Villain].”
“You’re just going to leave me here?” Villain cried loudly. “[Hero], please.”
Villain stumbled out of the bathroom behind him. Hero refused to turn around. He walked quickly.
Until Villain finally caught his hand. He was crawling on the floor, tears streaming down his face.
Hero spoke quietly on the phone, glancing at the unconscious villain on the couch. The nerve they had, coming to his house in the middle of the night. If not for his impulsiveness, he would have left the sick villain outside all night to freeze. Even now, they were shivering under the blanket Hero had wrapped around them.
“Just bring a team to the house. No, if a villain knows where I live, everyone does. Just bring someone before they wake up.”
“Are you sure?”
“I won’t ask again, Sidekick.” He hung up and turned back to look the villain over. They were.. pathetic. Handcuffed under the blankets, deep in sleep. He could only imagine their panic as they woke up not wrapped in a blanket but a straitjacket. It brought him joy. The enemy, lying peacefully in his lair, ignorant of what was to become of them. He chuckled and sat back in his seat. He could hear sirens in the distance. He knew for a fact they were for him.
“Help! Hero, please! Help me!” He could hear the villain through the doorstep cameras he had installed. He could hear the panic in their voice. The desperation. He could hear them pounding on the door. He could tell their strength was running out. The banging got weaker and weaker.
“Help.. Hero…”
There was a thud. Finally, after 10 minutes of tense waiting, Hero crept over to the door. At first he thought it was a trap. A trap to lure him outside. Villain was crafty like that. Except when he opened the door, Villain lay still, splayed out on his doorstep like a sleeping dog. Hero handcuffed the villain first, then dragged them into their house, slamming the door and locking it behind him. If this was a trap, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
His suspicions faded, however, as the time passed. As Villain ceased to wake. When Villain began to twitch violently, he jumped. Why was he so alert? Was he really this nervous about them? As the sirens grew louder, his heartbeat seemed to get louder. He could feel it in his fingers. His temples. His ears. He couldn’t help it.
He could swear they could hear his heart. They would rip off the blankets. They would take him away. He would disappear like the rest of the heroes. Nobody would come for him. Nobody would even remember him. He would die alone. If they even let him. The gut-wrenching feeling that his fate would be worse than death overwhelmed him.
No.
He just needed to wait a few more minutes. Then he could forget. Then, he would never have to see them again.
Villain had fallen back to their uncontrollable shivering, curling up in the blanket. A knock on the door finally snapped Hero out of his spiraling daze. Only then did he realize how loud the sirens had gotten. It must have been the collection team. They were finally here. He took one last look at Villain before running to the door.
“I want to be good” Hero said with their head down.
Villain narrowed their eyes, trying to find the joke, but Hero was never one to joke around, always trying to do the “right thing”, always trying harder than everyone else. Villain likes to mess with them.
Be good. They almost laughed at this, who would ask a villain for a way to be good? Hero would, they just did it after all, although Villain still can’t fully believe it.
“Let me ask you something,” Villain said, walking closer and lifting Hero’s chin with the tip of their finger, Hero didn’t even try to resist. “Do you want to be hurt?”
Hero looked at their nemesis. No, of course not. They thought with themselves, they want to be good, being hurt is just the mean, just something they need to be good.
“I want… I want to be good,” Hero said, wishing to hide their flustered face, but still letting Villain raise their head. Pathetic, they were utterly aware of how pathetic they looked.
“That’s not what I asked, little hero,” Villain said, playfully tilting Hero’s head from one side to another, “You are making me repeat myself a lot today.”
“S-sorry,” Hero said, their face reddening even more in embarrassment, they can’t even answer a question properly, “I-” don’t want pain, I just want to meet everyone expectation, “I-” want to be good so badly I just don’t know any other way. “Yes, please,” they said, “I want to be hurt.”
“You’re obviously here to get some dirt on us.” Villain walked around the Reporter being pinned to the floor by his henchmen, curious.
“You have my wallet. You can see I have like- what- five dollars? Someone gave me a job and a lead and I came here to follow up. When I saw it was you…” Reporter trailed off.
“So cute, you got scared.” Villain chuckled.
“Oh yeah, self preservation in the middle of a crime riddled city. Cute. You’re gonna love half of the police force.”
Villain couldn’t help the laughter, waving a hand.
This is so perfect. This villain is suave and creepy and such a damn good antagonist. I really hope you continue this, and if you do, please add me to the tag list!
I’m pretty sure I saw this somewhere as a prompt/trope a while ago, but I can’t find it now ;-; In any case, this idea really took hold of my brain, so much that it led to me writing something whumpy for the first time in months
Contains: villain whump, superpower dynamics, swear words, descriptions of blood and injury
It’d been a long day.
As he walked, grumbling, Hero kicked a bottle alongside the deserted road, watching it skitter in and out of shallow puddles. His last kick was a little too forceful - it clattered off several yards away, past a figure he hadn’t noticed until then. The figure snapped his head up in his direction, but Hero was swathed in the darkness of broken streetlights and shuttered windows, and he remained unseen.
Hero, however, could see clearly who the figure was.
He smiled grimly. About time my luck changed!
As Villain moved quickly into a nearby alley, Hero sped after him, determined not to lose sight of the man his team hadn’t been able to locate for nearly a month. You’re not slipping away this time.
Rounding the corner, Hero was met with a face full of broken glass as the bottle Villain flung at him shattered upon contact. Hero barely flinched, unharmed. He looked up to meet Villain’s wide-eyed stare.
Hero raised a brow. “That wasn’t a very good idea,” he remarked, before lunging forward and snatching Villain up by his throat.
He felt the muscles of Villain’s throat work as he swallowed audibly. “…It wasn’t, was it,” Villain admitted with a grimace.
Hero frowned slightly. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was…off, with Villain tonight.
Something was different, but he couldn’t let his guard down now - that’s what always inevitably happened whenever they’d battled in the past, and that’s how the slippery jerk was able to escape him every time, always just as he was about to cart him off to jail. Well, not tonight. Hero had the element of surprise on his side this time, and he meant to take full advantage.
A sudden pain then made him drop Villain, who took off like a bullet - Hero looked down to see he was bleeding from a small wound at his side. The bastard had stabbed him.
With renewed resolve, Hero tapped into his powers and dashed after Villain. He caught up to him just as he turned his back to the brick wall that blocked his escape. Without slowing down, Hero rammed into Villain and they both went crashing through what turned out to be a rather thick wall, the momentum sending them tumbling quite a while before they stopped. Hero made sure to stay on top of his adversary, pinning him down amid the rubble, and didn’t wait for the dust to settle before slamming a fist into his face.
He froze at the sound of a distinct crack.
The familiar yet altogether unexpected sound, plus the fact that Villain was unmoving beneath him, drew Hero into taking a moment to really look at the man. His eyes were closed, and he was bleeding from several places across his pale face and arms, dust and debris cloying to the wounds. A particularly nasty-looking gash just above his ear had that whole side of his head already slick with blood. What caught Hero’s eye most, however, was the blood that streamed out of Villain’s nose - a nose which was swollen and…crooked, as if it were broken.
But that couldn’t be. Not from just a single punch from him. And what was with all those other injuries? Hero - and Villain, for that matter - had dished out much worse punishment in previous scuffles with each other, and he’d never seemed too worse for wear; Hero was certain he could tell if he was truly hurt, even under that strange full-bodied set of armor he always wore. No, the only way he could’ve sustained that much damage from such a little tussle would be if…
Oh.
He’s not wearing any armor now, is he?
Oh,no.
“You’rehuman?!” Hero cried, incredulous, as Villain stirred back into consciousness.
The man winced, blinking rapidly, as he made what looked like a herculean effort to focus his gaze onto Hero. Villain flashed bloodied teeth as he rasped, “What gave it away?”
Tragic Villain – completely aware of their evil but takes little to no pleasure from it and could very well resent the evil they are committing
Noble Demon – a character who will proudly declare themselves evil, but still finds themselves doing good once in a while
Reluctant Monster — The Reluctant Monster usually has no idea that they’re a monster at all. They are often a member of a species that traditionally does nasty things to people, but that is not in their own personal nature
Broken Ace – A character who is handsome, popular, and mature, but it’s a front he’s viciously maintaining to mask the fact that his self-loathing has reached the level of dangerous unbalance
Affably Evil – A villain who is actually amiable and nice in spite of their intentions
Dark Is Not Evil – A character who looks sinister but is actually good.
Defeat as Backstory: A character suffered a defeat sometime before the main events of the story.
Sympathetic Murder Backstory: A character once killed someone, but for sympathetic reasons—still, they carry guilt over it.
Start of Darkness: A prequel about how the villain came to be who they are.
Being Tortured Makes You Evil: Tortured into evilness. A character who undergoes prolonged torture gives up on their ideals and morality and joins Team Evil.
Face of an Angel, Mind of a Demon: A character is adorable on the outside, but evil on the inside.
Face–Monster Turn: Being forced to turn evil by factors beyond one’s own free will.
Forced into Evil: A character does evil deeds because someone or something else is giving them no other choice.
Tragic Monster: A character is transformed into a dangerous monster and is miserable because of it.
Used to Be a Sweet Kid: A villain or jerk was a lot nicer when they were younger, but something happened that caused them to grow up to be the bad person they are today.
Villainous Breakdown: The villain reacts to defeat by having a psychotic meltdown.
Never Be Hurt Again: fairly common stock motivation, in which characters who have been abused, betrayed, mistreated or otherwise persecuted in the past are acting to make sure that this sort of thing never happens to them again
Driven to Villainy: A broken shell of a human being, warped by events around them, and forced into villainy by forces outside their control.
Fallen Hero: used to be a hero
Jerk-to-Nice-Guy Plot: A plot where a character starts off as a Jerkass, but events change him into a Nice Guy.
Misery Builds Character: Having a character go through absolute hell as a way to strengthen them.
Once Done, Never Forgotten: A character has done something in the past that no one will forget — or let them forget.
Forgiven, but Not Forgotten: just because people forgive doesn’t necessarily mean they will move on. They may hear that they are trying to change their ways, but is still not good enough to make them completely happy again.
Reformed, but Rejected: desire of the character to leave his evil ways in the past is completely genuine — but the hero still refuses to be “fooled.” All he wants is a chance at a normal honest life. It’s getting people to give him that chance that presents a problem.
Reformed, but Not Tamed: Now genuinely on the side of good, but they retain characteristics or methods that they used when they were evil.
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.
Their wounds ached terribly, undoubtedly fractured ribs constricting their lungs, stabbing pains shooting through their with each breath.
The heroes had seen it to them that they gotten “superficial treatment” on the transport back to base. All that had meant was some undertrained medic poorly setting their broken arm and binding it with dirty bandages.
They hadn’t bothered to take care of the deep gash above Villain’s eyebrow, that hours later was still dripping blood. Figures.
A small cry slipped from the captured criminal’s lips as their footing faltered and one of the guards wrenched them upright, jostling their broken arm. Hot tears sprang to Villain’s eyes as their vision went white, consciousness slipping away for half a moment before slamming them back to reality.
“OW-” Their voice cracked as they looked up to the supposed good-guy.
The guard rolled their eyes and let out a muttered “keep walking,” as they dragged Villain forwards.
It was so stupid.
Villain’s day had already been going shit, even before they were captured. Their coffee maker had broke first thing in the morning, then they had left their waffles for too long in the iron. They were out of milk, so they ended up having dry cereal for breakfast.
They were a criminal mastermind, Goddamn it! They shouldn’t be having dry fucking cereal for breakfast!!
The bank they had intended to rob didn’t have nearly as much cash as they expected, which they almost instantly blew off paying their debts and giving their henchmen paychecks.
Then, as if their day could get any worse, they cafe they went to for lunch was out of lettuce. How was Villain supposed to have a salad if there wasn’t any fucking lettuce?!
If the heroes had known how their morning was going, Villain was sure they would’ve been pardoned for blowing up the crummy old diner.
It was going to be torn down in a few weeks anyways! If anything, Villain had been doing the city a favor!
Butnooooo.
Hero went on a thirty minute rant about how that was a “serious offense” and “highly illegal” and- right when Villain was beginning to doze off, they attacked!
Villain scoffed, tripping over their own feet as the two guards dragged them further through the halls, entering a poorly lit, secluded corridor.
The walls were dark and made of concrete, a plain metal door every fifteen feet or so, secured with all sorts of different locks. On each, a number painted in plain white.
Four… six… eight…
The guards pulled them to an abrupt stop outside door eleven, holding them upright as Villain’s knees buckled. One of the guards pulled a ring of coppery keys from their back pocket, letting go of Villain’s arm for a moment as they fiddled with the locks, sticking a different key in each one and twisting, before finally undoing the deadbolt and pushing the door open.
The cell inside was small, a cold draft hitting Villain’s skin and making them shudder.
A yelp slipped from the criminal’s lips as the second guard shoved them forwards, tripping once more. With their hands bound, they could only twist midair, letting their shoulder take the blunt of the force as they promptly face planted into the cement.
The guard snickered.
“Make yourself comfortable, Villain,” The other guard laughed as they clumsily rolled to their side, blood beginning to gush from their nose as a terrible burning sensation swallowed their face. “It’ll be a while before Hero can see you.”
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.
Villain let out a ragged scream, their voice cracking as they thrashed against the restraints keeping them pinned to the cot.
“HERO- I SWEAR TO GOD LET ME GO-” They yelled, raising their head as much as they could off the pillow. “PLEASE- HERO LET ME GO!!!!“
Tight
“Shh, calm down sweetheart,” Hero soothed, their heart wrenching as they brushed a sweaty lock of hair back from Villain’s forehead. “It’s okay. These people are going to help you.”
“NO- NO PLEASE- HERO-” Villain gasped, cringing away from the touch. They didn’t even have the time to panic about their mask, their exposed identity, any thought other than escape free from their mind.
“Villain, please calm down,” Hero sighed, resting their hand on Villain’s forehead. “You’re going to be okay. This place is full of doctors, behavioral specialists. They’re going to help you.”
Villain’s face flushed bright red, their eyes blowing wide as their gaze flicked from Superhero’s face to the small dog crate by their feet, a terrible heat beginning to bubble in their chest.
They glanced over their shoulder, desperately looking to the faces of the other in the room, but no one met their eyes, expressions blank.
“Go on. Get in.” Superhero’s lips twitched back in a cruel smirk, bending down slightly to pull open the cage’s door.
Villain blanched, taking a step back as they quickly shook their head
“Come on now, get in.” They beckoned Villain forwards, eyes glinting with malice as they nodded to one of the heroes behind them. Villain let out a startled yelp as they were shoved forwards, the heavy manacles locked around their ankles tripping them.
They landed with a groan at Superhero’s feet, the chains around their wrists preventing them from breaking their fall in any way. An awful, hot pain exploding from their nose.
A harsh laugh cut through the air as Superhero crouched down, reaching forwards to grab Villain by the hair.
“My, wasn’t that just pathetic?” They chuckled, wrenching Villain’s head up so they could see the fine stream of crimson dribbling down Villain’s chin.
“Let this be a lesson to you, pet,” Superhero grinned, roughly manhandling Villain into the cage. “If you’re going to spit and act like an animal,”
Villain cringed as the cage’s door slammed shut, and Supervillain snapped a padlock closed around the wire bars.
