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sunnynwanda · 4 months

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Hellbent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What came after was worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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whump-blog · 2 years

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Prompt 44

Villain is strapped to a stretcher in the centre of the cell. His breathing and the sound of the metal instruments that Hero observes trying to decide which one to use next on Villain's abused body is all that can be heard.

Villain has been tortured for days inside the heroes' headquarters. And today was no different, or so Villain thought, until the metal door suddenly burst open to reveal the figure of Henchman.

Villain's tired eyes rested on his figure and gave him an exhausted smile.

Henchman was pointing his gun at Hero, who looked furious but no less surprised from the other side of the cell.

"What do you think you're doing rescuing this son of a bitch?" Snarled Hero as he kicked the stretcher where Villain was lying causing him to groan in pain. "Can't you see he's a villain Henchman? Drop that gun and join us, you're still young... you can still join the side of the good guys, the side of the heroes."

"When I had no one, none of you heroes came to save me. Not you, not one of your friends…" replied Henchman. "Villain was the only one who was there, he was the one who saved me… for me, he is my hero."

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movedtodykedvonte · 10 months

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*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spider-Man:….

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

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

Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!

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

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

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

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months

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Gaslighter? I hardly know her!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jin guangyao #qin su #The parallels to the mulderskully comic were genuine scripting coincidences that I kept in for the irony.#wwx and mulder both have a strong need to show their beloved (investigation) partner the cool thing they just found.#Much to their chagrin and concern.#For as much of a mess the plot gets in The Untamed...one of the things it does probably the best of all adaptions is setting up JGY.#specifically how we spend time getting to know him as a *Regular Guy* around our deuteragonists' age.#I love how he's present in the cloud recess arc! I was rooting for him as a character! The twist villain reveal felt so heartbreaking!#Here in the audio drama (for as much as it does well) we pretty much get 2 scenes tops with this guy before he's villain monologuing.#before this we know him as 1) the guy NMJ yelled at a lot 2) a suspect 3) leader guy Jin Ling was partially raised by.#The elements are there but but not with any particular depth to make him...interesting (in this version).#Sure we get to learn more after the fact but it just falls so flat in comparison B*/#ohhhh noooo the guy we are pretty sure killed a guy is gaslighting his wife and has a secret torture chamber. And he's a politician.#not much of a mystery to it all innit.#Feel free to disagree or bring up differing points btw; I love media analysis convos and this truly is just my opinion.

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sacredfire44 · 4 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXXX

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

Where is he?

I don’t know, he answers again.

How long?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t Bingge. This was his husband.

And this wasn’t a dream.

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up with him.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up at all.

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

#I really did mean to only type a synopsis #but it got away from me lol #at least it’s out now #considering cleaning it up and posting to AO3 #svsss #scum villain self saving system #scum villain #bingyuan #Bingqiu #luo binghe #Shen yuan #Shen Qingqiu #mxtx #writing #edit:#Tw torture #can’t believe I forgot that lol

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voltaical-art · 7 days

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

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #tav #durge #durgetav #voltaical ocs #bishop #judge #something something are you really better than the villain you hunt if you kill just as many people as him?#i think in canon judge would just let orin be the chosen one he has 0 ambition he just wants to torture his ex boyfriend

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vebokki · 2 months

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bingge's visit to his favorite prisoner

#i was going to color this but....................i dont want to #also different hairstyle + clothes + mole on other cheek = bingge #svsss #luo binghe #人渣反派自救系统 #svsss fanart #mxtx #scum villains self saving system #blood #tw implied torture #wooooooo #ask to tag #btw no nonc*n or anything like that just good ol torture

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aha-my-villainous-thoughts · 8 months

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Are you really here?

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

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #edward teach #ofmd fanart #the villain's art #gentlebeard #blackbeard #stede bonnet #emo ed #that feeling when you want to see someone so bad that you catch glimpses of them in the corner of your eye #they're so cute and fucked up #i tortured this wip months ago and only now can it be released #sorry Ed #making you all emo again because the trailer fucked me up

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lord-squiggletits · 2 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#squiggposting #pharma apologism #i'm sure the doylist reason for the writing is just that pharma was a designated villain #so since he's a villain and 'crazy' it's fine for everyone even the good guys to treat him like complete trash #i just think from a watsonian perspective taking a sympathetic approach is way more interesting and logically consistent #what i mean is like. from a meta perspective one of the best ways to show that a character is super evil and not worth saving #is when even the good guy heroes. the ones who are supposed to be kind and compassionate and wise. see him as dirt #and this is also kind of a necessity in most plots bc TF is the kind of series that just needs action villains and long-term antagonists #so not every villain is written or has a plot to be made redeemable. and pharma is one of these bc he's not important or a legacy character #so from a doylist (meta) perspective you could read the autobots' disregard of pharma as a sign of #'this guy is not meant to have your sympathy as a reader. pay no attention to him'#but from a watsonian (in universe) perspective it paints a miserable picture of pharma being utterly forsaken by the ppl he served alongsid #and like yeah i'm super autistic about pharma so of course i view him with sympathy but like #the idea of being a loyal and good person for years only to be subjected to a Torment Nexus of #being blackmailed into breaking all of the oaths you held sacred. under threat of you and all your comrades dying horrible torturous deaths #then when your comrades find out about it they focus solely on the 'harvesting organs' and not on the 'blackmail' part #and then you get literally left for dead by your comrades and best friend hating your guts #and then you get rescued by a guy who uses you as a test subject for his evil machine #this is a fucking nightmare scenario like pharma could hardly be suffering more if the author TRIED to make him suffer #and for me it's like. the evil pharma did can't be decontextualized to what drove him to that. as well as the question of like #how easily ppl can write someone off as evil and turn a blind eye to (or even find satisfaction in) their suffering bc theyre evil #and either brought it on themselves or it's just karma paying a visit #like. i feel like if pharma WERE a shitty doctor and a terrible person his whole life then the delphi situation would feel like karma #but the way it's written and the lore retroactively put in makes it feel more pharma getting thrown in a torture carousel #and THEN becoming evil. but then being treated as if he was always evil or was some sort of bad apple #bc like i'm not opposed to LOLing when a villain gets a karmic torture/death related to the wrongs they committed #but in pharma's case it feels less like karma and more like endless torture + being abandoned by ppl who should have been more loyal

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save-the-villainous-cat · 8 days

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The hero couldn’t believe their own exhaustion. Apparently, their limbs didn’t want to work and neither did their brain. Even though they had sort of expected this, there was enough energy left to recognise and frown at their nemesis.

“You’re here to kidnap me?” the hero asked. They looked down at the saved city, at the aftermath of the chaos.

Some streets and buildings were scathed but all together, the hero would’ve called this a good job with little casualties. They leaned back and let out a long overdue breath.

“Presumably.” The hero turned their head to glance at their nemesis. Every muscle hurt. Hell, muscles the hero didn’t even know they had hurt.

“Two months. I thought you were dead,” they said eventually and the words were heavy on their tongue. Sadly, they didn’t even have the energy left to be mad at their nemesis.

“I’m…” The villain stared at the ground. They still looked the same. Still the same scary villain that would break ankles and wrists to get what they want. And the hero supposed they were still the same pathetic hero that followed them around like a dog, trying to convince them to use their powers for the good. Even in death.

“You have to carry me if you want to kidnap me. I can’t really move.”

“Okay.” The villain approached them and picked them up immediately without any struggles. All the hero could do was whimper when the villain touched their sore muscles. The hero felt a little stupid in the villain’s arms but they didn’t really have a choice either when the villain walked towards their car.

“Where were you?” the hero asked quietly. Some questions they only dared to whisper.

“I was injured,” the villain explained.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened!?” Suddenly they panicked. The villain had been injured? Had licked their wounds in their lair alone? The hero wanted to be mad but above all, they were concerned.

“Yeah, I needed a new kidney and everything.”

“What?!” The hero’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you disappeared for two months instead?” the hero asked. By now, their voice was hoarse and their head unforgivingly heavy.

“…yeah.”

“Listen, I could’ve donated, I could’ve—”

“Do you think it’s smart for the two most powerful beings in the city to recover from surgery at the same time?” the villain asked. The hero hated that, they hated when they used logic against them. It didn’t change that they were pissed, in fact, it only added fuel to the fire.

“You could have at least told me.”

“So you’d worry and neglect your duties?” The villain shook their head. “I love this city. I want what’s best for it and while I was gone, you were the only one left who actually cared for it.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A fucking asshole,” the hero said. They were overwhelmed and confused, numb and aggressive. They hadn’t seen the villain in two months and now they were back with a stranger’s kidney inside them and their strong arms around the hero.

Had they made a mistake? Felt the hero closer to them than they actually were?

“Why are you hurt?” The hero closed their eyes and let out another long breath.

“I fought some machine. The blades were quick and the bullets even quicker so I had to be faster than that and now I am just…tired.” They leaned their head against the villain’s chest.

“No, I meant my recovery. You’re hurt because I left.”

“I’m mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“You’re disappointed that I didn’t ask you to donate your kidney,” the villain said. The hero swallowed. “Is there something more intimate than keeping your nemesis alive that way? You’re mad you got robbed of that.”

“Ugh you’re so full of shit.” And yet, the hero’s face was burning.

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe they wanted a connection to the villain that was deeper than “work.”

Whatever.

“I didn’t know you’d be this upset.” Either the hero imagined it or it was true; the villain pulled them closer.

“I am not…I tried reaching out but you were nowhere. Do you know how frustrating that was? As if you got killed and thrown into a ditch. I could barely concentrate on anything.”

“I didn’t know that. Maybe I mean more to you than I thought,” the villain said and the hero couldn’t believe how dense their villain could be. As structured and intelligent as they were, their social skills were an abnormality the hero usually knew how to handle.

But now, in their arms, they were grateful.

“Of course you do, dumbass.” The hero met their eyes and they felt at peace. Completely. Utterly.

How could they waste their life like this? Yearning without making a move? Never daring, always tip-toeing. To the point where they wished they had given them their kidney.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” The villain didn’t joke. They didn’t wink. They rarely did any of that.

“Kidnap me faster, will you?”

“If you insist.”

Back at the lair, the villain allowed them to touch the fresh scar and the hero did. Over and over and over again.

#show me your teeth teeth teeth teeth #sry I love torturing my heroes #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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sunnynwanda · 9 months

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The Darkside: Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning: mentions of physical torture and trauma, a somewhat grafic description of rape in the 2nd chapter, blood, broken bones, healing and aftercare for Villain, revenge, murder & death(s).

Sneaking back into the city wasn’t particularly difficult. Finding their former friends fast asleep in their beds wasn’t hard either. Kidnapping them and hanging them up by their toes in an abandoned building was almost too easy. Making several deliberate cuts and leaving them to bleed out as they beg for mercy was... a delight. The one thing that was actually hard was not letting them die. Not that easy. Not by Hero’s hands.

They smile to themselves as they dismount their motorcycle in front of the cabin. They left their former fellows chained upside down, helpless and slowly bleeding. They wouldn’t die. But they wouldn’t have enough strength to free themselves. Not until Hero returned, anyway. They grab their bag and stride into the cabin, directly to the kitchen. Villain is still asleep, so they make coffee to keep themselves awake and start preparing breakfast.

“You’re back.” The statement catches Hero off-guard. They whip around, smiling at how dishevelled Villain’s hair is. As if noticing their gaze, Villain runs a hand through their untamed curls.

“Morning,” Hero smiles, gesturing for them to sit down. Villain visibly limps, and Hero has to turn away to give them privacy. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“You were gone for a while,” Villain states, their eyes narrow as they watch Hero’s back stiffen. They manage to find a comfortable position before elaborating. “I needed a shower before going to sleep. It took some time. You still weren’t back.”

“The closest town is quite far away,” Hero lies. They can feel Villain’s eyes boring into the back of their skull and turn around, forcing a smile onto their face. “Did you need anything?”

Villain shakes their head, falling into silence as Hero serves breakfast and sits on the opposite side of the table. They can tell something is troubling Villain but avoid pushing by focusing on their food. Villain does the same for a while, partly because they are starving after god knows how many days without a proper meal.

“I appreciate everything you did for me,” Villain starts out of the blue. They are back in the living room, sitting with their back to the fireplace because their hair is still quite damp. Hero smiles at them from the sofa. “But that doesn’t erase what they did.”

Hero nods once, expecting Villain to continue. They do not, seemingly deep in thought. “Why are you saying that?” The question drags Villain’s attention back to the outer world. They glance at Hero for a moment, examining their countenance before speaking up again.

“I’m past any reservations, Hero.” Determination is evident on their face, but that wasn’t exactly new to Hero. Villain clears their throat. “You can’t hold me back anymore.”

The wheels in Hero’s brain halt for a second, then start motion in reverse. They shrug. “Who says I want to?”

Villain’s expression is serious yet concerned. They wonder if their nemesis understood at all. “What?”

“I want you to unleash your rage on them,” Hero says matter-of-factly like that doesn’t mean eliminating their entire base and killing their mentor. “And I want to help.”

“Okay...” Villain is still processing the proposition. Since when do you have no problem with homicide? They are about to ask just that when Hero interrupts their deliberation again. The excitement in their voice makes the hair on Villain’s nape stand.

“So, where do we start?” Hero paces the room before stopping by the window. Villain doesn’t exactly have a plan as of now, but that is the least of their worries, it seems. “Cause I might have done... something.”

They dart across the hall, leaning against the wall as Hero unlocks the metal door. It was only two hours ago that Hero revealed what they had done. Now, they are about to face two of the most respected crime fighters in the city. They walk into a dark cellar, waiting for their nemesis to turn the lights on. The scene that opens before their eyes would be disturbing in other circumstances. Right now, it brings a smile to their face. They watch their captors dangling from the ceiling, blood dripping down their arms and pooling under them. Hero stays behind, watching them approach the heroes, dagger in hand. They crouch down to be face level with them, dragging the blade across one’s cheek. The man whimpers, choking on their own tears.

“Can’t even bring yourself to beg for mercy, can you?“ Villain asks, turning their attention to the woman that stepped on their throat while Superhero smashed their hand. “You know you don’t deserve it.”

She lets out a muffled moan, nodding. Villain tilts their head, thinking for a moment. Then they rise, throw a short glance at Hero and release the chains, allowing their prisoners to land on the floor in a pile of twisted limbs. Hero remains silent.

“I’m not going to kill you. You don’t deserve even that.” They cut the “thank-yous” short, ordering the heroes to shut it. “The only thing I regret is that Hero had to dirty their hands in your rotten blood.”

One of them tries to apologize, to come with an excuse of being forced by their boss, but Hero interrupts, stepping forward. “You will run without a glance back. Cause if you do, I won’t be as kind as Villain. I can promise you that much.”

Their voice sends a shiver down Villain’s spine. They want to ask how Hero knew taxidermy cuts. Did Superhero teach them? Or perform those on them as punishment? Villain isn’t sure they are ready to learn the answers to the questions circling in their mind. What they are sure of is that no one can survive those cuts, not after bleeding out for so long.

They reach the headquarters by sunset. Infiltrating the facility takes less than twenty minutes. They locate Superhero in the interrogation room and shut down the lights in the building, locking themselves in. When Hero swings the door open, Superhero doesn’t even turn to face them. It’s only when the door shuts behind Villain’s back that he reacts.

“Lovely of you to show up,” he smirks at Villain, then turns his attention to Hero with sickening satisfaction in his eyes. “I’m glad you delivered, pet.”

Villain’s blood freezes in their veins. They stiffen, watching Hero nod, then round the table to stand by Superhero’s side. No. It feels as if boiling water was poured over their head burning them to the bones. Their eyes start to water, and Villain blinks, unable to comprehend what is happening. No.

“What’s the matter, dove?” Superhero tilts his head and barks out a laugh, gesturing towards his apprentice. “Did you think they were helping you for real?

Hero doesn’t meet their eyes. Villain’s breath hitches in their throat, heartbeat frantic. They can feel their blood thumping in their temples. Their vision blurs, and they don’t even know if it’s tears or their body shutting down in shock. The room is spinning. They know they are outnumbered, but they also know they have nothing left to lose. And they won’t go down without a fight.

“How naive,” the condescending tone awakes something absolutely feral in Villain. Their entire body vibrates with rage. They clench their jaw, pressing their lips together to hide the tremor that runs through them. “That’s what I always liked about you, Villain. You play fair. And I make up my own rules.”

Villain’s mind is reeling, wailing in their head because they cannot fathom how dumb they were. They shake their head despite the lump in their throat that is threatening to explode into sobs with every passing second. They were so, so stupid to get deceived that easily, to believe the enemy, to trust someone trained by the very person that ruined them.

Hero takes a step back, gesturing for Superhero to proceed. The man smiles, nodding in appreciation.

“Tell me, Hero, what would you like in reward for such a lovely gift?” He reaches for the handcuffs and licks his lips, a disgusting smile plastered on his face. “A taste of them, maybe? I could let you use them all you want, for torture or pleasure. I’ve had my fun with them.”

Villain growls, low and raving. Hero knows they will not hesitate to kill themselves if in a desperate situation. Villain draws their dagger, ready to fight for life or death. Superhero moves towards them, and that’s when Hero springs into action. Villain barely registers the movement when Hero grabs Superhero by the neck and bends him over the table, banging his head against it several times. They use a combat knife to nail one of Superhero’s hands to the table, cutting through the metal and disregarding the anguished roar from their mentor.

“How about I let Villain do whatever they please to you?” Hero kicks the back of Superhero’s knees, making his legs buckle and smashing his face with a fist until it’s covered in blood, nose fractured in multiple places.

“What are you doing, pet?” The man wheezes out, struggling to pull himself up. “Have you forgotten which side you belong on?”

“I know perfectly well which side I am on.” Hero restricts his free hand, cuffing it to the table leg. “ It’s you that has lost it.”

Villain is too dumbfounded to react. They stare with mouth agape, their brain refusing to process what is happening until Hero looks up at them. The expression in their eyes is batshit crazy.

“We’ll talk about the fact that you believed I’d betray you later,” their breathing is laboured as they speak; voice laced with emotions that Villain is unable to discern. “Right now, he is yours.”

Hero gets off Superhero’s back and walks to stand by the door. Villain is motionless for a long moment before attacking with demented madness. They make cuts, one after another, the same ones Hero used on their coworkers earlier, except deeper and more painful.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Villain asks. Superhero snarls, muttering curses under his breath. Villain twists his hair between their fingers, bending his back, causing the handle of the knife in his hand to tear into the flesh. “Like how it feels?”

They circle around the table, bending down to look Superhero in the eyes with chilling calmness. “Should I show you what the rest of what you did to me felt like?” The man laments, trying everything to fight back as Villain drags their gun along his spine. “Let’s see how you like it, huh?”

Hero steps out of the room. They catch a glimpse of the gun barrel and try not to think what Villain plans to use it for as they shut the door. They can hear the muffled cries and curses as Villain rips him apart for hours. Hero stays by the door for the entirety of it, pacing back and forth in expectation of a gunshot that’s never heard. They dare not open the door until Villain calls on them. It’s past midnight.

When they walk in, Superhero is still alive and bent over the table; an expression of utter madness stains their face. Hero realizes his hand is no longer pierced by their knife when Villain hands it to them. Hero’s face is stern when they nod in agreement and position themselves behind Superhero. They fist his hair, arching the man’s back and making him face Villain.

“Get a good look - they are the reason for your demise,” Hero growls into his ear before slashing his throat, cutting it open and watching blood gushing onto the table. They let go when Superhero’s body stops shaking.

They are seated on a rooftop when Hero presses a button on their phone. Villain is gobsmacked as they watch the headquarters crush down, burying Superhero’s body under tons of concrete and debris. They gaze at Hero with wide eyes, anticipating a grain of regret or sorrow but catch none. All Hero offers them is a small smile of relief.

Villain did not expect to find a friend in their foe or to become allies with the enemy. They did not anticipate the sudden change in their consistently cheerful and kind nemesis. They couldn’t have imagined how unhinged Hero can get once pushed hard enough. And they certainly wouldn’t have pictured themselves being the reason for that. Yet, when the sun comes up next morning, colouring the sky in hues of warm yellow, they sit on the porch of their cabin with a cup of coffee in hand and a friend by their side, watching the outline of the city on the horizon. A city rid of criminal minds and sadistic saviours. A city now free.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Hi, loves!

This ended up pretty long and cruel, I hope you won’t mind either of those. Felt quite new to me as well, especially on this blog. You’ll be deciding what the next story is, so feel free to vote and let me know what you’d like to see.

And thank you for reading this :)

P.S. @pigeonwhumps tagging you as promised.

Love,

Sunny :)

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the-modern-typewriter · 9 days

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hero x villain who's afraid of little old me

#to delete #brain rot #hero has snapped #villain is somewhere between horrified and entranced #taylor swift #the tortured poets department

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ghouljams · 9 months

Note

Begging for someone to break into Bee’s house and König only finds out bc of the bug, so he takes care of it

Here's where we get more of König being insane about his crush. Introducing(formally) the perimeter alarm.

An alert pings on König's phone as he's herding the last horse into their stall. He pats the over-large animal affectionately as he tugs his phone free and swipes through the notifications. He frowns, opening the property map and scanning for where the break pinged. Your side of the farm, not good. Hopefully it's just a wild animal that's wandered too far from the woods and set off the alarm.

He pulls the back wall of the barn open, survey's his arsenal, then grabs a rifle and a few tranquilizer rounds. If it is an animal, he'd hate to hurt the poor thing. If it isn't... Well better not to take care of it on your property.

It's a short ride through the pasture to get decent sight lines. Your house is dark, that's good. König raises the rifle, steadying it against his shoulder. The small movements of the horse under him are a little tricky, but nothing he can't deal with. Grace under pressure is what got him the rank of colonel in the first place.

He sweeps his sights around your house. While the breach hadn't been too close, it did take him time to get here. No deer, no foxes or coyotes threatening your brightly painted chicken coop, no raccoons in your trash. König frowns, sweeping wider just as a flashlight wanders its way around the blind side of your house. That makes this easier. His brain clicks through calculations, before taking aim and watching for impact. The quiet thunk of his silenced rifle firing is like music to his ears.

The figure startles a little, grasps at the dart's entry point, stumbles and collapses. And they said he couldn't be a sniper.

König rides closer to the fence, and hops off his horse, fishing some rope out of the saddle bags. It's always so easy to hop your fence. He keeps his eyes on your bedroom window, careful to stay quiet as he makes his way to your back door and your would be intruder. It's only when he turns the man over and he feels the cold grip of malice that he really decides what he's going to do next.

The man awakes in a single chair, in a small concrete room. It's dark, the only light coming from a single bare bulb hanging over head. Across from him, König leans forward. Watching with his elbows resting on his knees as the man jerks and panics against his restraints.

"It is very fortunate that I found you when I did," König tells him, "I would not have been able to stop myself if you'd actually gotten into the house."

"Where am I?" The man spits, König clicks his tongue, shakes his head.

"Now now, you are asking the wrong question. You should be asking, 'who are you?'" König motions with his hand, "Go on."

"Fine, who the fuck are you," The man's face is red with barely contained rage.

"I'm the man that's going to kill you."

All the motion seems to drain out of the man, his muscles locking up in fear or perhaps realization as König stands. The little metal table he drags over shakes and bumps along the uneven ground. It's only the noise of it, the sort of slick friction of metal against plastic, that makes the man look down at the tarp covering the floor.

"Don't look so worried, this is going to hurt a lot, but not for very long." König pauses, picking up a file, "Well, not for me anyway. For you it will feel like an eternity."

"I- Whatever it is you want we can work something out," The man asks, begs, leaning back in his chair as best he can as König draws closer. "I've got money, you want money? Or- or- shit!"

"No money," This part is always fun, the begging, the crying, the last shred of hope, "you hurt someone very precious to me, and I can't let that happen again."

"I don't even know who you are," The tears are starting. König grips his jaw hard, forces his mouth open to give the file room to drag against the man's teeth.

"But I know who you are," König hums over the grating noise of file against enamel, the building panicked scream, "and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

Yes, König thinks, that is all that matters. It isn't as if the man is fit to answer the question anyway, what with the amateur dentistry happening. This is really fantastic timing on your ex-husband's part, well fantastic for König. He'd just been wondering if and when would be appropriate to rid your life of this scum. It wasn't like you'd miss him, truly no one would, but timing was -is- everything.

An extended business trip, a few bad investments, a drunken if slightly rabid text exchange. König kept close eyes on his targets, even if he told himself it was just to keep you safe. He knew every detail, every movement this bastard made. How convenient that his tour of stupidity would lead him right into König's hands. His car might be a problem, but it's nothing König hadn't handled before.

König pulls back from his work to stare at the bloody gums and nubbed teeth. The man sobs, gurgled bubbling spit turning red from the rough orthodontics as he tries to speak around the pain. König thinks he'll do the fingers next, maybe try inserting some metal screws into his legs. It doesn't really matter what tortures he puts the man through, it'll all be burned away in the end.

König wakes you up in the morning, his knocking on your front door thunders through your house. Although you suppose it could be anyone knocking on your door, you don't really get any visitors but him. You pull a pair of shorts on to answer the door, just barely awake enough to deal with people. Your alarm isn't set to go off for another two hours at least.

When you pull your door open you blink blearily up at König. His eyes dart over you, taking in your pyjamas as you rub your eyes with a frown. You don't know what was so important it couldn't wait for later in the morning.

"König s'early, what're you doing here?" You yawn. König's expression is soft and affectionate, it's too early for that.

"I thought I'd make you breakfast," He pulls his bandana down for you to see his smile. You hum and turn to go back into the house, figuring he'll follow you like always. König's hand catches your head and spins you to face him again, dragging you for a kiss. His fingers tighten their hold on you as his lips drag against yours. It's the sweetest good morning you've ever gotten. You wonder what's gotten into him.

#König really said “our farm”#cowboy!König #oc: bee #könig x oc #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #tw violence #tw teeth #tw torture #tw stalking #König does some villain shit #he's gonna burn that man to ash and abandon his car at the airport #make everyone think he's just gone on a long trip #months later one of Bee's friends texts to see if he's contacted her at all

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whump-and-other-misfortunes · 3 months

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Whumpuary 2024 Day 14

14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation

cw past trauma, implied noncon/torture, hurt/comfort, aftermath of whump

“You’re slower than usual,” Hero teased when they pinned Villain to the wall. “Lost your edge after that little vacation you took?”

Villain was breathing heavily. Their hands grasped at Hero’s, which were fisted in the front of their suit, but Villain lacked their typical strength. “Wasn’t a vacation, you jerk,” they huffed. “And I’m doing my best here.”

Hero pulled one of their hands back, and their heart jumped when Villain flinched away from them; they’d never reacted like that before. The instinctual fear was clearly visible in their eyes.

“Whoa, hey,” Hero said softly. “I was just gonna—your mask is slipping.”

Villain looked down, frowning. “Sorry. I just...go ahead.”

Hero raised their hands slowly and adjusted Villain’s mask, noting the sharp intake of breath when Hero’s fingers grazed their cheek. As they put it back in place, Hero could see a dark bruise hiding under the mask. The slightest bit of purple spread up their cheekbone.

Villain was trembling when Hero stepped back.

“Are you okay?” Hero asked. Logically, they knew they should take advantage of Villain’s weakness and bring them in. But they just couldn’t bring themself to be that cruel.

“When I was gone this week,” Villain whispered, “I was...Supervillain took me hostage. I’ll spare you the details but...they did some shit to me I wouldn’t even do to my enemies.”

Hero felt their heart ache at the admission and the pained expression in Villain’s eyes when they looked back up. “I’m sorry, I—I had no idea.”

“Not your fault,” Villain said with a shrug. They tried to force a smile as well, but it didn’t quite work. “But it messed me up pretty good. I can’t sleep. I can’t move without remembering their hands on me.”

A sick feeling curled in Hero’s stomach as they imagined what the normally collected Villain must have been through to have them on the verge of tears at the memory. They slowly reached out, giving Villain enough time to stop them—but when they didn’t, Hero pulled them into an embrace. “It’s over,” they muttered into Villain’s hair. “You're safe now.”

Their words seemed to open the floodgates, and suddenly Villain broke down. Hero didn’t know what to do, so they just held their nemesis as they cried. The fact that they’d been in the middle of a fight passed through Hero’s mind, but it didn’t matter now. They were a hero—their job was to help people. Even if those people regularly made their life hell.

“I’m sorry,” Villain choked out. “This is pathetic. And I—I deserved it.”

“No one deserves to be hurt like that,” Hero said, rubbing their back in soothing circles.

Villain tried to steady their breathing as they looked up at Hero, eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you. Just—give me a minute, and we can get back to it.”

“What do you say we get a rain check,” Hero asked with a small smile, “and you let me buy you a coffee instead?”

Villain sniffled and rolled their eyes. “As long as you promise to reschedule. Because I was looking forward to kicking your ass.”

Hero laughed. “Okay, deal.”

Although the coffee may not have truly fixed anything, it was a welcomed comfort.

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epiclamer · 1 month

Text

Part 1 somewhat sexual torture scene, anyone?

Sidekick didn’t even dare to breathe as the villain carelessly ghosted their knife point against their bare chest. Occasionally, letting the razor sharp tip of the blade scrape or scratch the surface of Sidekick’s skin.

Hero had taught Sidekick how to handle pain, how to breathe through it, how to control their bodily reactions. But no one had prepared them to have bodily pain waved in their face but hardly ever acted out.

It felt like some sort of psychological game of the villain’s. As if they were planning to reduce the sidekick to tears and a begging mess by only ever suggesting pain, without ever using it.

At this rate, the adrenaline pumping at full speed through the sidekick’s veins—exhausting them—worried them enough to wonder if Villain’s method would actually work. If eventually they would beg to have the villain just hurt them already and stop playing games.

Villain dragged their knife up until the point rested between the sidekick’s collarbones. “I think I’ll start here… Make a cut allllll the way down the center of your chest,” they cut a thin straight line as they spoke, from the sidekick’s sternum to just above their belly button.

It stung more than Sidekick would’ve liked to admit, it burned even if it wasn’t deep and droplets of blood pushed through faster than the skin could settle from the intrusion of the blade.

“Push the blade in nice and deep, leave your whole chest open for me to see…” They pierced a little deeper into the skin at the bottom of their previous cut, emphasizing their point enough for the sidekick to yelp. Villain smirked at the reaction, “what do they call those? When you open someone up in the chest?”

Sidekick felt bile rise into their throat and they stifled a gag. “A-A vivisection?”

The villain hummed, their smirk only growing as they brought the knife back up to circle the hero-in-training’s shoulders, watching intently as the blade broke skin occasionally and the sidekick flinched adorably so. “Exactly. What a smart little sidekick, hm? I see why Hero picked such a prodigy as yourself. Although, I might’ve picked you for a reason other than your brains.” They winked, squeezing the sidekick’s thigh with their freehand.

But Sidekick couldn’t focus, they could hardly hear anything over the rush of blood and fear that ran to their head the second they realized the villain wanted to cut them open on a hotel room bed; prop their ribcage up and squeeze all their organs, slowly and agonizingly killing them.

“Y-You don’t really mean that, right?”

Villain’s eyes and attention pulled from their knife, back to the trembling sidekick beneath them. “Why? Does that scare you, Sidekick? Is such a gorgeous specimen like yourself scared?”

They would’ve said no. They should’ve said no. Yet they could only manage a terrified squeak before shutting their mouth once more, desperately attempting to calm their racing breaths.

“Maybe I should invite Hero… I’m sure they’d love to watch helplessly as I carve you up. Maybe leave the both of you tied up for Hero to slowly watch you slip away right in front of their eyes.” The criminal grinned as they watched the sidekick writhe in their bonds, fighting harder and harder to break free from the villain’s entrapment. “Do you think they’d enjoy that? Watching their perfect, hot, innocent, sidekick beg for mercy; beg to die?”

“Please—”

“Hm?”

“Please, please, please—” Sidekick heaved an anguished breath, sucking in air desperately like many of the villain’s waterboarding victims had.

They pulled their knife back, resting it instead against the bed below the sidekick and pressing a strong hand to the center of the other’s chest. Pushing Sidekick back down slightly to ground them from any oncoming panic attacks, even if it meant smearing some of their blood onto the villain’s palm.

Villain rolled their eyes, realizing they might’ve gone a bit hard on the poor trainee. “Relax, Sidekick. I’m not going to kill you, or cut you open, or experiment on you, or do any of the terrible things I’m sure you’ve already thought up.”

Sidekick flinched, their whole body twitching against the pressure of the villain’s hand. “You… You’re not?”

The villain’s grin stretched as they shook their head. “No. I might’ve, if your charm and good looks didn’t intrigue me so much. But fortunately for you, I think I’d rather get to know you before I plunge a knife into your heart.”

A skip in the sidekick’s heartbeat told them it was okay to take another breath, somewhat out of relief now. They did their best to ignore the burning wound on their chest and instead play grateful for their life’s sake, but somewhere deep down they were actually looking forward to it.

“However, unfortunately for you,” Sidekick’s heart sank along with the villain’s previously friendly smile. “I noticed in your struggle you hit the handicap emergency help button, which conveniently alerts the front desk of an issue in this room—as I’m sure you’re already aware.”

Villain reached out again for their blade, plucking it off the bed while they shuffled their position to pin the sidekick down by their neck. “And as much as I know someone will be here to rescue you any minute now, you must understand that I won’t let you get away that easily.”

Before Sidekick could react they felt the villain’s knife pierce the skin just above their collarbone. They tried to shout, struggle, anything, but Villain was fast, precise and had an advantage against the struggling sidekick from above.

They carved, almost reaching the other’s jugular vein, but their knife work was educated enough to miss. And once they were done they moved their mouth to the wound, gently sucking the blood from their raw skin, before standing up and turning on their heel to make their escape through the window.

Villain hesitated before they jumped, looking back at the wreck of a sidekick they had left tied to the bed. “Tell Hero I said hi! Oh, and that I think you’re delightful~”

With that, the villain was gone, and the rhythmic drumming of knuckles against the room door sounded in perfect timing as the villain’s carved initial bled from its spot above the sidekick’s collarbone.

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