For Funsies

(They/them) Hero/villain writing except it’s just incredibly self-indulgent Also whump apparently Don’t be shy! Asks/Requests are welcome

[neon-kazoo]

Master post!

Because I want to feel ✨ fancy ✨

Feel free make a request or ask to be tagged! Don't be shy, I need motivation.

Hero/Villain snippets/stories (single part): Here

Hero/Villain snippets/stories (multi-part): Here

Hero/Villain ideas/prompts:

Chronically Ill Hero

Bargaining

Non-Hero/Villain under the cut

Poetry/Vents: (themes of)

Long Slender Fingers (degenerative illness, gifted kid burnout/not living up to potential)

The Hate in My Heart (friendship loss, religion)

I Miss Being Warm (illness, loss)

I Want to Fail (failure, ruminating on mistakes)

No Lollipop (medical trauma)

themes are just my personal significance, anything is up for interpretation

[neon-kazoo]

History

For a fully coordinated mission with the whole team, it sure went bad very quickly.

Though that did tend to happen when you unknowingly walk your team straight into a supervillain’s den. It didn’t take long to realize that they were outmanned and outgunned, surrounded and deep inside enemy territory. Regrettably, but without much choice, Leader had given the order for the team to surrender. They had all been ordered to the floor and left kneeling in an arc facing an ominous door. They all hung their heads, trusted to cooperate based on silent threat alone.

Except Sidekick, apparently. Hero noted through lowered eyes that Sidekick was flanked by two henchmen, each with a vice-like grip on their shoulders. Their hands had been bound behind their back, despite the fact that they had done nothing to warrant it and none of the other members of the team had received the same precautions. Sidekick sat calmly without question, somehow still earning the wary looks of every guard stationed around the large room. The rest of the team went largely ignored as they exchanged questioning glances.

Hero themselves was wracking their brain to make sense of the situation, but the door heaved upon before they had a chance to form any sort of an explanation.

Supervillain was as strong and imposing as his name suggested. He was a pretentious-looking man—clean-shaven and crisply clothed—with an attitude to match. A gnarly jagged scar stood out across his face, often cited as his most defining physical feature. Hero would add that he also had a glare that could cut down cities, and right now it was directed at one specific member of their team.

To Hero, it didn’t make sense.

None of them were any direct match for Supervillain, least of all Sidekick. They weren’t healthy enough for the field; they were just tech support. Strictly in-office. Well, usually. There was no conceivable reason to keep them here, especially restrained as they were.

Leader, always looking out for the team’s well-fare even in the worst of positions, immediately tried to start bargaining for their most vulnerable member.

“We will continue cooperate. Under one condition.”

The Supervillain released a distracted hum.

“You release Sidekick.”

Leader clenched their jaw after presenting the demand.

“Is that so?”

Supervillain didn’t even turn his head towards Leader. To their credit, Sidekick didn’t turn away either, though Hero had no idea how they managed it. Hero could hardly manage that level of stoicism in the Supervillain’s presence.

Hero chimed in, reasoning, “Let them go. They’re harmless to you.”

Supervillain’s eyes narrowed inexplicably at that. Simultaneously, said member of the team scoffed.

“His face would beg to differ.”

Hero turned a surprised gaze to find their sidekick shooting a rueful look towards the aforementioned face. The thoughts behind the team’s eyes turned from shock to terror.

Sidekick never mouthed off. Sidekick hardly ever spoke at all.

Hero watched as fingers curled tighter over the shoulder of Sidekick’s shirt.

What the hell were they talking about?

Hero shifted their panicked gaze to Leader, only to find them running their eyes across the villain’s face. Hero followed suit, eyes widening as they did.

Was Sidekick implying…?

Supervillain paid their further pleas no mind. They addressed only the one group member when they spoke.

“And here I thought you would have used me as part of your resume.”

He watched them down the bridge of his nose, still standing a considerable distance away.

“Some of us have merits of our own, that don’t involve a list of who we’ve harmed.”

The room went quiet. The guards shifted uneasily all around. Neither person broke their gaze.

No way.

Hero’s head spun at the sight. No one was stupid enough to outright attack or even provoke the supervillain or his lackeys, especially not like this.

Or maybe, Hero thought as they glanced towards the stone-cold glare Sidekick was holding with their chin held high, nobody was ever brave enough.

@whumplicity

[neon-kazoo]

Whats your mbtiiiii

Had to get an excavator to dig this out of my screenshots, but according to the test I took my sophomore year of high school: INFP-T

If someone could point me towards a test thats actually free I could probably give you a less outdated answer 😭

[neon-kazoo]

Nope

The red lights were the only thing illuminating the lab, the villain’s footsteps the only sound echoing down the hall. Their strides were even, measured. They moved deliberately at a slow pace, dragging out the chase and building so much tension in the hero’s chest that they felt they might explode.

“Oh Herooooo, where are youuuu~?” The villain sung.

Hero pulled their knees impossibly closer, hoping to melt into the shadow or sink into the floor, whichever got them out of here faster.

“Little mouse always gets caught by the big bad cat eventually,” they taunted, projecting their voice into the doorway of the room Hero was hiding in.

The hero’s breathes were shallow, their heart beat uncontrolled. They swore they could feel the walls of the desk they were under start to compress, squeezing the air from their lungs.

A single foot placed itself down, the tap of it distinctly too close.

“Yeah, no. I can’t do this anymore.”

Hero unfolded themselves from their hiding spot, standing tall to face the villain closing in.

Villain’s gleeful smile faltered.

“Giving up so easily?”

Their disappointment was easily concealed, but the hero saw right through them. They may have been terrified, but they also knew their opponent well.

“You were going to find me eventually. Why should I prolong my suffering?”

There was not a doubt in Hero’s mind that Villain had known exactly where they were right from the beginning. All they did by revealing themselves was put an end to their game, and curbed the sick satisfaction they derived from it.

“You think this is suffering?”

The villains’s smile returned, the edge of it quirking up.

Hero recognized what the villain was getting at. They knew all kinds of torture and torment awaited them once they were finally firmly within the villain’s clutches. The hero also knew full and well that the dread of anticipation could far surpass the pain of completion. The hero followed a popular philosophy that could be expressed many ways:

Rip off the bandaid, plunge the needle in, get it over with.

Waiting—stalling was half the problem. As far as they were concerned, they had just cut their troubles in half.

Hero shrugged disarmingly.

“I think this is over.”

They walked slowly towards the certainty of the end, no longer scared of the sounds their rubber soles were making against the flooring. Their head was held high, their breathing more even than it had been in a considerable amount of time. The villain watched them, their surprise and disappointment boiling dangerously beneath the surface.

In a way, the hero had won, simply by losing.

But they weren’t naive enough to think they wouldn’t pay.

@whumplicity

[neon-kazoo]

Ok y’all fight it out cause I can’t pick one to work on

My current requests:

1. “how about an ftm hero who knows the press will turn on him and make it easier to find their identity and desperately tries to hide it from the villain”

2. “okay so what if there was a hero who's power was to amplify other people's powers so they often go on missions in a pair BUT they get separated from the other hero they're with for some reason and then get found by a villain who basically kidnaps them in order to make themselves all powerful or something.”

3. Bluff

4. Bloodstained Ivory

Force me to work on

Ask one

Ask two

Bloodstained Ivory pt. 5

Bluff pt. 5

Voting ended onMay 13

[creekfiend]

a harmonica is like a fancy kazoo and I say this with all of the love and admiration in my heart because I think the kazoo is the perfect instrument. they should make Professional Quality Kazoos.

[flowercrowncrip]

I have good news! (Or perhaps just chaotic news) They absolutely do make professional quality kazoos:

Can I perhaps also introduce you to the kazoo trombone?

[creekfiend]

I love how both of these are still under $30. incredible work everyone

[neon-kazoo]

Zoom Zoom (The Briefcase pt. 6)

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five

Pro tip: if you suspect you're going to be forced down into a storm drain anytime soon, make sure you keep your shoes on in advance. Given the choice between bare-feet and paper-thin cotton, death is often the preferable option—if that's being offered.

Villain was no longer offering.

Hero checked.

Back in the car, Hero had the belated sense to strip off their soaking wet socks. They had been banished to the backseat—if you could even call it that. It was really more of a storage space, and would be better fit for a backpack or—ironically—a briefcase than for a fully-grown human being. As such, Hero sat hunched and criss-cross apple sauce and found themselves wondering why anyone would spend so much money on a car with less than a third of the seating space as a nice, practical mini-van.

Rich people's flawed logic aside, they were still deep within the flesh of the tomato, and Hero's heart rate was unquestionably elevated—probably a result of claustrophobia from the cramped state they were forced into. That, and the fact that they couldn't see.

"I really don't think this is necessary," Hero mumbled, resisting the urge to tug at the fabric covering their face and head effectively like a hood.

"Did I ask?" Came the inevitable retort, complete with its infuriating level of casual snark.

Hero's glare all but burned two holes through the sack.

No, he hadn't asked. Just like Hero hadn't asked to be kidnapped, dragged around like a dog in a purse, and kept in the dark like they had spontaneously developed an allergy to the sun.

Hero bit their tongue, though they weren't quite sure why. Maybe it had something to do with their steadily depleting oxygen levels making speaking seem like a waste of precious breath.

Already having established that they were unable to leave the severely sunburned race car once locked inside, Villain had taken the liberty of stopping inside one of the shockingly-not-abandoned gas stations. He returned with the sack of fabric—undoubtedly stolen off a travel pillow—that now enswathed their head as well as a safety pin he flicked over at them without a word. It was only then Hero had remembered the state of their shirt and realized their love for their sense of sight.

The veil was suffocating and infuriating all in one. Hero strained their eyes and their lungs trying to pass both air and vision through the black. Just when they were convinced that nothing short of a knockout punch was going to keep the fabric over their eyes, the persuasive poker player had pulled out his ace. Hero didn't need their sight to catch the unmistakable crinkle of a candy bar. Seconds later, something light and rectangular hit their lap, accompanied by the simple condition,

"Keep it on."

Was he really—

No. Nope. Absolutely not. They were not a child and they could not be—

Their stomach growled as they caught sight of the label through the sliver of sight allowed down past their chin.

It was not just a candy bar, but a chocolate bar, with almonds.

Okay, maybe they could be bribed just a little. But strictly only in regards to sustenance. They dropped their hands from their head shamelessly to tear open the wrapper. What could they say, the body needs fuel. They certainly weren't going to think of another magnificent failure of an escape plan on an empty stomach.

The things Hero would do at this point for a three course meal. Or really just anything without so much saturated fat. Beggars can't be choosers, so Hero happily reluctantly accepted the trade in the form of taking an unhinged bite of the bar that was definitely designed to be snapped.

Speaking of things they wanted, creeping its way to the top was a shower. Drug store deodorant and bird baths in the middle of public restrooms could only do so much. That storm drain certainly couldn't have done them any favors in the aroma department. If he was anyone else. Hero would have felt bad for their companion being stuck inside an enclosed space with them. In this scenario however, it was completely his own damn fault. And if you asked Hero, Villain deserved a lot more than just some minor olfactory distress.

Maybe they needed to look at the bright side. Just think, things could always be worse. At least all their appendages were still intact, and they didn't even meet a homicidal clown down in the sewer!

Okay, maybe their standards were looking a little low.

Well, no better time than the present to start raising them!

They decided the first thing they would no longer be tolerating was external impedance on their senses. Really, they reasoned, they deserved the comfort of 20/20 vision.

Their hands unfolded from where they had been resting in their lap. They raised one sneakily with the goal of gradually increasing their field of view.

"Don't even think about it," droned Big Brother.

Well, when he put it that way…

Their incentive depleted (read: candy bar reduced to smudges of chocolate on their fingertips that they were in the process of licking off), there really was nothing to stop Hero from peeking out of the hem of the fabric like a kid cheating at hide and seek.

They got away with it for all of five seconds before they made unfortunate eye contact in the left side mirror. Villain shifted and Hero froze with the soulful essence of that same kid now caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

"How about this:" He started, adopting a tone one would typically reserve for negotiating with a toddler, "For every second I catch you looking out the window, I’m going five more miles per hour over the speed limit."

He hit the gas like he meant it and Hero didn't doubt his sincerity for a second. They tugged the hood down fully like their life depended on it—which was entirely possible at these speeds. Beneath the fabric they scowled.

How dare he appeal to their safe driving instincts?

Their personal reckless driver seemingly had nothing more to say after that, not that they could see his face to read it anyway. At most, they caught a blob of brown they presumed to be his hair on the other side of the black-blob headrest atop a corresponding blob of skin. The not-so-tightly woven fabric did its job, they couldn't read any road signs or pick out any other large identifying markers out the windshield. Mostly, it was just light that they saw, and even that was fleeting.

Grand plot foiled, Hero turned to occupying themselves elsewhere. Switching their attention to a different sense, Hero dragged their palms across the leather beside them. They felt the stitching catch on the creases of their hands as they swept back and forth, seeking more input to ground them.

They began to run their fingers through the split between cushions, feeling for hidden treasures like they used to do as a child predisposed to boredom. Soon enough, their fingertip hit cool metal.

Jackpot.

They swept their thumb in to pinch the coin between their forefinger and brought it up and into their other hand to inspect. They knew by the size that they had plucked out a nickel, but a measly five cents was not near the final total.

Apparently rich people don't care about change, because Hero amassed quite the collection while the blood car just kept on chugging. If they ever got their car back, those owners were going to be pissed about the egregiously increased mileage. Speaking of, how many emissions had Villain single-handedly released in the name of this briefcase? If only the environment protection agency had the authority to make arrests, this ordeal could be over without Hero ever having to so much as make a statement.

Alas, that was just but a fantasy. Hero absentmindedly started rolling one of many quarters around their palm, barely feeling the small ridges across the edge. They gave it one good flip in the air before deciding that was too much effort to continue with their mysterious reduction in catching accuracy.

Dreaded buzzing had the hero perking up. They caught the shape of an elbow doing what they could only presume to be digging into a pocket. A lighter blob appeared between the two front seats, standing out from the jet black interior. A dark square was lifted against the skin by the ear. The phone, from what Hero could tell—not that they were allowed to catch so much as one more glimpse of its screen—was still functional, though it could probably use some time in a bag of rice. That, or Villain had previously briefly typed on a phantom display in a delusional state of mourning.

Their assessment was confirmed when they heard the faint sound of a voice speaking on the other end of the line. While admittedly there could not possibly have been anything more important at the moment than the contents of that phone call, Hero nonetheless held other priorities. Namely, the pack of cigarettes they deciphered were sitting on the center console.

Maybe they were still pissed about the hood, or maybe their freezing toes were getting to them. Either way, it proved too good an opportunity to pass up.

Hero patted around beside them. First, they encountered the soggy ACE wrap, also known as a worthless piece of shit. Next the empty wrapper, and after that it was an empty Coke can. The pile of coins was promising, but they would surely be too loud and shift when loose. It was only when they felt the damp cotton of one of their wrung-out socks that an idea fueled by nothing but sugar and almonds began to form. They lifted it into the air pinched between two fingers to test its weight.

The plan solidified as Hero decided it might just work.

At first they started to roll it, but quickly they judged that to be too thick. Instead they started folding it, carefully placing a few of their scavenged coins between the cotton folds. They lifted and lowered their chin for another glance and the box was still sitting there in front of them.

Taunting them.

"I see," Villain spoke into the phone darkly before abruptly veering and earning himself a hefty honk from some car behind.

Hero flinched but took the opening without hesitation, sliding the pack off the console and into their waiting hands. Deft fingers set to work matching the weight of the cancer sticks. Executing a remarkably quick turn-around, the box was back in place mere seconds later. The phone call ended with an aggressive slap of the phone against the leather. Hero waited a safe twenty Mississippi before taking one last look. To both their horror and relief, by then the pack was gone.

Now to be rid of the evidence.

Hero channeled every morsel of their days-long misery into the moan they used to ask Villain to roll down a window.

"I don't feel good." They wrapped their arms around themselves, clutching their stomach. "Maybe…some air?"

If he looked back Hero couldn't tell, but there was only a short delay before they felt the pressure in their ears and the rush of air hit them from both sides. Hero scooted towards the stream to their right, letting the wind slap them in their covered face.

"Do not throw up in this car."

What wonderful advice for Hero's stomach to absolutely take into consideration.

Trying out a new strategy, Hero stretched the fabric across their eyes, this time looking through the hood and not under it. They turned briefly towards the window, figuring they could spare a measly five miles per hour for the sake of a good cause. They were able to surmise that they were in the right-hand lane, nothing but a thin shoulder on the road beside them.

In their hand, Hero gripped the real cause of their nausea.

Hero turned their palm out, creeping it towards the edge of the open window. They reached it without a word of comment from their reluctant chauffeur. They opened their fist as if to feel the air rushing around their skin, and—may Mother Nature forgive them—the box's contents slipped easily from their fingers out into the world beyond.

Their heart raced wildly inside of their chest, their beats per minute easily doubling the speedometer and then some. It took a solid five minutes for them to calm their breathing and convince themselves they had actually gotten away with their petty theft and finable misdemeanor.

Unfortunately, their cortisol levels shot right back up when they were unexpectedly grasped by the back of their neck, pulled forward, and shoved into the front seat. A surprised and mildly offended noise escaped them before they could trap it in their throat.

What the fuck was that for?

Their question was soon answered when the fabric was snatched off their head and they glanced into the rear view mirror just in time to see blue lights illuminate a blacked-out car behind them.

Oh.

Shit.

Villain quickly reached over his shoulder to stretch the belt across his body and Hero followed suit. Every instinct inside of them screamed to grab for the nearest handhold and they happily obliged, bracing for the pedal-to-the-metal move they knew was coming any second now.

Not for the first time that day, Villain decided instead to throw them a curve ball. An unreadable glance was cast their way, just a millisecond too long to be considered casual. Knuckles gripped the wheel hard enough to change color before they stretched out and relaxed as if they had never been strangling the leather-wrapped ring at all. With a curse, he flicked on his turn signal and veered gently towards the shoulder.

In the time it took the car to decelerate, Hero took the liberty of running through all the possible reasons for why they were being pulled over. Their mental review of the list of crimes for the day included a wide assortment of illegal activities, each one seeming more probable an explanation than the last. Was it the littering that did them in? No seatbelts? Illegal tint? Improper lane change?? Speeding???

Hm, or maybe—

STEALING THE GOD DAMN CAR???!

Not to mention kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon—they could really have gone on.

Villain shifted the car into park. Hero stared at the gearshift between them as they slowly began to consider that they might actually be doing this.

"If you so much as—"

"Don't. I get it."

Sit down and shut up.

Not their strong suit, but they could manage that. Especially if it kept someone else alive. They were not in the mood for another gun fight, nor were they particularly feeling like being labeled an accomplice to murder today.

"I highly doubt that."

What a vote of confidence.

The villain glanced over at them briefly, somewhere between stoic, wary, and warning.

"Fix your hair."

Hero swiftly flipped down the sunshade mirror and ran their fingers down their scalp, fluffing some strands and flattening others. Without thinking, they reached over to do the same for Villain. Blessedly, he was too busy digging through his wallet to notice, but Hero still recoiled bodily, immediately retracting their arm and shaking out their hand.

Great, now they needed hand sanitizer.

The officer started to approach the vehicle, and Hero was still braced for the car to take off at a moment's notice. They were increasingly surprised when it, in fact, did not. As if only to confuse them, Villain did the fancy button equivalent of twisting the keys out of the ignition and turned the car off.

Now, Hero was not usually one to advocate running from the police. However, if there ever was a circumstance…

Certainly this would qualify.

Nonetheless, the officer made it to the window and the king of hubris rolled it down. Hero's eyes searched frantically for the gun they knew to be somewhere on his side the car.

Please don't be pointed outside. Please don't be pointed outside.

They couldn't find it, which was either a good thing or a really, really bad thing.

"Not a word," Villain reiterated under his breath, which was fine by Hero.

Quite frankly, they were still too dumbfounded by his decision to speak.

What on Earth was his plan here? Bribery? Charmspeak?

Guess they were about to find out.

"Good afternoon there sir, how are we doing today?"

The officer braced his hand on top of the car and leaned down slightly to get a good view in the window. Hero smiled politely and figured Villain was probably doing the same.

"We're doing good here officer, how 'bout yourself?"

One point for charmspeak. Hero fought to keep their face straight after hearing the most polite thing to ever come of out their least favorite person's mouth. Said least favorite person held up his ID and a folded piece of paper he must have pulled out of his ass.

A tense moment passed in which Hero was sure Villain was finally going to get his bluff called. His ID wouldn't check out, the registration would obviously be fake, or the plates had already been run and he was about to be asked to step out of the vehicle and put his hands behind his—

The officer waved him off and shook his head.

"Don't worry, there's no need. I just wanted to let you know your left brake light is out."

One point for needing none of the fucking above.

"Really?" Villain craned his neck back over his shoulder in a show of disbelief. "Wow, I had no idea. Thank you so much for letting us know. I'll be sure to get that fixed as soon as possible."

"My apologies for the theatrics," Officer Oblivious waved his hand around, presumably to indicate the lights and sirens he had used to pull them over, "But it does get the message across."

"That it does," the villain chuckled, and it almost sounded earnest. "Well we certainly appreciate it."

Of all the words Hero could think to describe themselves right now, ‘appreciative’ was far from one of them.

Villain gestured between his totally-not-captive passenger and himself and all Hero could do was seal their lips shut and nod.

Good cop smiled and inclined his head.

"Y'all have a safe drive now."

Sack or no sack, Hero was convinced that they could have seen Villain's teeth shine through fifteen feet of concrete.

"Absolutely we will. Take care.”

The officer's boots scuffed on the concrete as he turned away from the window and started making his way back towards his vehicle.

"Sick car by the way," he called just as the vegetable engine roared back to life and Hero had to brace their jaw to keep it from dropping. He patted the top of the car twice as he walked away.

The cherry on top.

The villain slid his wallet back into his pocket and tucked the paper into the console Hero had never seen him open. Hero kept their features carefully blank, blinking a few times just to be sure that they heard all that correctly.

Brake light.

Huh.

That was not on the list.

The window sealed back shut and Villain turned on his blinker to merge back onto the roadway. The officer pulled out his car behind them, blocking the way and forcing the lane clear for them. Hero maintained their flabbergasted silence.

There was no way it was that easy.

That valet service must be doing a hell of a job covering their ass for misplacing a car. Either that, or Hollywood couple was having an extra long dinner.

Another reason to never play poker with Villain: the bastard was fucking lucky. No one else in the world would have gotten off scot-free like he just did. Hero crossed their arms as a sign of universal protest.

Some cosmic bullshit is what that was.

Well, at least now they could see—if they were still doing the whole silver-lining thing. Hero stared out the window like the angsty teenager they were not too so very long ago. They pondered the unfairness of the situation, and the unlikelihood of it all.

Seriously, were they supposed to believe that rich people can't afford to get regular vehicle inspections? And don't even get them started on the blatant wealthy male privilege in that interaction. Now if they were driving an old beater car—

Their pouting was interrupted too soon by a low voice projecting deadly calm.

"Hero."

Uh oh.

Hero immediately started eyeing their exits. The last time they heard that tone they ended up on a significantly bloody trek across the countryside, and they were not looking for a repeat performance.

The thought crossed their mind that this outfit would not hide blood nearly as effectively.

Against their every instinct, Hero turned just in time to see a flash of silver on the other side of a console where strewn was a crushed empty box and a pile of wet sock.

"Where are my cigarettes?"

-

@whumplicity @dreamingofviolence @kayochine

[neon-kazoo]

HEYYY MY FAVOURITE KAZOO

I am here to harass you for that WIP ask game >:) Pretty please with a cherry on top and extra whipped cream tell me more about Villain attempting to trap Hero in an elevator HEHEHE this sounds like either one of the most traumatising things Hero will go through or the most hilarious shenanigans ever 😍😌✨️

Thank you and have a good day :)

OKAY SO in the original idea Hero is actually not the one getting traumatized, but some poor civilian they let get on the elevator before them out of intense chivalry. With a sprinkling of disabled civilian because I’m still on that kick.

Getting an elevator all to yourself is great and all until it comes to sudden stop and oh wow would you look at that you aren’t alone anymore! Some evil guy is talking to you through the roof!

The big question is, how does Villain take this? Are they surprised or are they calm, do they decide to make the best of it and use the civilian as a hostage anyway?

All questions I uh…totally have answered mhm very fleshed out idea I have here. Personally, if my villainous plot was foiled by some stupid hero unpredictably doing a good deed/being needlessly polite I would be incredibly pissed off, but maybe that’s just me.

But now you’ve got me thinking… some claustrophobia here, some sudden dropping of the elevator there…

Hmmmm a lot to ponder now

[neon-kazoo]

Can you please continue The Briefcase? I totally binged it and am so excited to see what happens next! A cookie for your time 🍪

EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR SNIPPET #100 🎉

And it’s the longest one yet :)

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Vroom Vroom (The Briefcase- Part Five)

A fancy restaurant, apparently.

And when they said fancy, they meant fancy. Entrance lined with velvet ropes, fancy. Heels higher than the chance of Villain stabbing them again, fancy. Purses that definitely cost more than their yearly rent clutched in hands and hooked over elbows galore. Plush ottomans were dotted all around, though no one was actually sitting on them—not even resting a coat or a bag down. This was all just a waiting area as far as Hero could tell, and judging by the glass elevator centered in the lobby, the actual dining room was high above.

It was like the train car, but bigger. So much bigger.

Way too fancy for the souvenir shirt Hero was wearing, hence a trip to a mall along the way.

This means they had the pleasure of having another fun shopping experience with their oddly-caring co-captor, aka the walking contradiction of a woman dubbed Mrs. Maroon. She had stared at them for way too long before deciding on a silk buttoned shirt and a nice pair of black pants. Hero wasn't usually one for formal wear—couldn't afford it, really—so they couldn't really make a judgment on just how fitting or fancy it was, only that it was ridiculously expensive. Seriously, they had choked when they caught a glimpse of the price tag, having to disguise it with a not-so-polite cough. The color of the top wasn't bad, a nice deep plum that reminded them of a shade of lipstick most people weren't bold enough to try.

Honestly, Hero was just surprised Christine had picked a color other than maroon.

Still, Hero felt underdressed. Their hair was a mess from being wind-whipped and rolling around on the ground, but it was nothing some water and finger-combing couldn't fix. Mrs. Maroon wasn't quite satisfied with it, however, so they added a real comb and some gel Hero was pretty sure she stole—okay maybe just borrowed—from Villain.

Their jacket no where to be found, which—yeah, it was kind of a bio-hazard at this point. Still, they missed its comforting warmth, not so much its crusty edges.

Hero shifted on their aching feet crammed in direly uncomfortable shoes. The loving couple was up at the host stand making a reservation, leaving Hero awkwardly standing by the window, hesitating about making probable history by sitting themselves down on one the perfectly plush suede seats.

Seriously, did no one around here have bendable knees?

They were suffering enough in a flat pair of dress shoes, they knew for a fact those heels were doing some long-term damage to half the guests in the lobby. Just when they were about to take the plunge and give their legs a rest, they spotted Villain finally sauntering back from parking the car. The glass was tinted and reflective such that they could watch him outside without him being able to watch them inside unless he got very close, which Hero took full advantage of.

They hadn't paid a lot of attention after leaving the mall, instead electing to partake in a cat nap slumped over in the back seat of the SUV. They could see now though that something about Villain's face was different. He ran his fingers down his chin—a move which Hero thought made him look like an imperious asshole—jogging their memory in the process.

Ah, gross. He shaved.

Hero turned away from the window as soon as Villain got too close, facing the other direction as he stalked up to the host stand and carefully studying a plant while he had a word with Dale and Christine.

It was only when he unquestionably started towards them that they deigned to turn and face him. He took them smoothly by the elbow when he reached them, pulling them around the various groups waiting on their feet and walking them out the door. A few steps later, he released them without a word. Hero stayed in step with him for a moment before they dropped off, unsure where he was heading and if they were supposed to follow.

Villain, continuing without a care, strode towards where most people were arriving, lifting his hand and showing his palm towards another couple just pulling up. The man gave him a simple nod before exiting the vehicle and rounding the hood to pull on the second handle of a two door sports car of a brand Hero couldn't be bothered to guess. A woman in a dress befitting a red-carpet stepped out and attached herself to his arm as they both headed towards the door.

Great, another couple to keep track of. How many 'friends' did this guy have?

Hero doubted this was a car often used in the commission of crimes—given the singular fact that it was fire-truck red. Not exactly the low profile stealth/get-away vehicle Hero would have gone for in this profession, but to each their own they guessed. Who knew, maybe they could afford a new one after every felony.

The man tossed his keys and they fell into Villain's hands as smooth as if he was holding a giant magnet. Neither person spared him a second glance, not even to confirm if he had made the catch.

It hit Hero then that they didn't know him. They thought he was the valet.

True to the illusion, Villain walked confidently towards the driver's side and flipped the keys around his finger before getting in. Seconds later, the pane-less window of the passenger side rolled down and Hero rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Get in."

Hero didn't even bother to look, they knew that tone like the back of their hand. That was his 'I-am-brandishing-a-weapon-and-threatening-to-wield-it-in-your-direction' voice. Just for kicks, Hero imagined it was something ridiculous, like nunchucks or—even better—a morning star.

Blame it on the lack of quality sleep, but Hero burst out laughing at the image of Villain pulling out a medieval club from who knows where. Realistically, concealing it would've surely poked several holes in his suit jacket—unless he'd rigged some kind of retractable spike situation—

The rev of an engine cut off their ludicrous line of thought.

Right. The car. They needed to get in the stupid tomato-looking car.

They grabbed the door handle, mockingly-offended Villain hadn't bothered to open it for them like the chivalrous owner had. They were half expecting the car to smell like ketchup, but were met instead with a lingering smell of clashing cologne and perfume. The interior was blacked out, perfect for if their bandages came undone and they started bleeding profusely again.

Villain sat causally in the driver's seat and shifted the car into gear in a smooth display that had Hero feeling a little envious. Of course they didn't get to drive the cool obnoxious sports car.

They pulled away from the curb and Hero felt a pang of hunger hit their stomach. They looked back longingly at the high-rise behind them before throwing Villain a glare. He ignored them, as per usual.

Whatever, that line was excruciatingly long anyway. The menu was probably pretentious too.

"Where are we going?"

Please be food.

"Away from here. Preferably as fast as possible."

'Fast' might have been an understatement, as they were already entering the highway by the time he decided to answer. They cleared the on-ramp in record time and it seemed Villain's attitude towards merging was more of a 'get out of my way' than a 'please let me in.'

As if this spontaneous journey couldn't get any more dangerous, Villain pulled out an insistently vibrating phone and began reading off its screen. He switched attention back and forth between the windshield and the digital display with a ratio that had Hero gripping the handle in the ceiling and revisiting the prayers that had been getting a lot of mileage lately.

Finally, after seeing him drift particularly close to a blue mini-van, Hero couldn't take it anymore.

"Uh uh. We are not speeding and texting and driving." He had indeed begun to type somewhat emphatically. "Some of us actually want to live"

Villain raised an eyebrow. Whether it was at the demand or the heavily debatable proclamation, Hero didn't care to know. It seemed for a moment he was going to go back to his stoic silence, but after throwing a glance in the rear-view mirror Hero saw something shift.

"Alright then," he acquiesced lightly, "Take the wheel."

Surprised but not about to argue, Hero unbuckled their seatbelt, one hand on the door preparing for him to stop the car.

Except he didn't stop the car. He sped up.

Hero looked back over at Villain with concerned eyes. He had slipped the phone temporarily into his breast pocket and was now sitting with his left leg pulled up into the seat. He was shifting in a way that left Hero thoroughly confused.

"What are you doing?" They asked warily.

What on Earth was he doing?

"It's illegal to stop on the highway," he stated, like it was an obviously applicable fact.

Since when did he care? And what did that have to with—

Oh no. Absolutely not.

When they saw both his hands leave the wheel they automatically replaced them with their own. With both his feet located up on the leather, Hero realized there was currently no limb in remote proximity to the brake pedal.

Guess they were doing this then.

Hero kicked off their awful shoes and lifted themselves up on the seat. They swung one leg over the console and their upper body followed, uncaring for how they interrupted the former-driver's movements. They tugged on the wheel to drag the rest of themselves over, careful not to send the car careening into a ditch or one of the many other cars innocently traveling during rush hour. Villain was lucky the windows were tinted to probably illegal levels, or else everyone else on the road would be getting quite the show. By the time they were somewhat located on the left side of the car, Hero had definitely whacked Villain in the head with their shoulder and were currently pinning one of his legs in place under them. A litany of buttons with purposes Hero couldnt even begin to guess had been pushed in the process. Villain was shoved somehow in between the two seats, and only once he wrenched his foot out could he slide completely into the chair Hero had previously occupied.

Hero smiled when they saw his resulting hair-do was ever-so-slightly ruffled. The corners of their mouth fell, however, when they caught the barely visible sight of the gun tucked between him and the right side of the car. He wasn't focused on them or their short-lived amusement, but instead on the road behind them, eyes narrowed and knuckles held tight.

Always an ulterior motive.

Hero turned their gaze to the road in front of them because somebody had to. Noticing they were following a little close, they shifted their foot over to lightly press on the brake. They felt something weird with their toes, causing them to quickly dip their gaze into the floorboard to catch a glimpse of their socks and something they couldn't quite compute.

"Uh," they questioned, hesitant to interrupt whatever was going on on that side of the six-hundred horse power machine but mildly freaking out, "why are there three pedals?"

Villain didn't turn, as if this news wasn't surprising to him in the slightest.

"It's a manual, genius. That's the clutch."

Right. The clutch. How could they forget?

"WHAT THE FUCK IS A CLUTCH?"

They took it all back. They did not want to drive the cool sports car. They never wanted to drive anything ever again, actually.

"On the left," came the exasperated response.

Panic had begun to rise inside of their chest. Hero held both their hands out in front of the steering wheel, creating two right angles with their thumbs and index fingers.

"THEY BOTH LOOK LIKE Ls!"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Villain placed his phone face down on the dash and leaned bodily over the console, grasping their knee with two hands and physically lifting their foot onto the correct pedal.

"That one."

There wasn't time to be disgusted, Hero had to immediately put their new found knowledge to use. Villain called for them to press that pedal in and he shifted the stick between them. The engine kicked but then they were moving faster and the villain seemed to relax. Hero, on the other hand, still looked around nervously.

What were they running from now?

"Why did we have to steal a fucking fire engine?!" Hero exclaimed, shaking their head to dislodge an unruly strand of hair from their field of vision.

If only it had the lights and sirens to go with, speeding away would be a lot easier.

"It's not stealing if they gave me the keys," Villain droned.

"Under false pretenses! I don't think this is what they had in mind!"

In front of them, the road sloped upward. Taking a wild stab, Hero pushed what their best guess was a gear shift and waited for something to happen, carefully keeping their foot off of the gas. They were met with a horrible grinding noise that had even the villain cringing beside them.

"Are you trying to kill the gears?"

"I don't even know what that means!"

The sound took on a new intensity and Hero's shoulder's shrugged up to their ears.

Definitely not what that couple had in mind.

Unsure what to do next, Hero moved their feet around randomly and white-knuckled the wheel. Meanwhile, the car was decelerating to a noticeably concerning level.

"Hey, Hero, let's keep it moving here!" Villain urged with all the appropriate desperation of someone knowing they were in the left hand lane of a city highway.

"I'm TRYING!"

After a few more seconds pressing a random assortment of pedals, by the grace of someone the rolling death machine started to move faster and started sounding less like a vehicle about to crash straight through Death's doorstep.

After all the commotion Hero noticed they were burning up, almost to an unnatural degree. But oddly enough, only from the back of their upper legs to their lower back. They slid a hand between the seat and one of their thighs, finding the source of the heat to be not themselves but the leather beneath them.

Was the car on fire or something? They wouldn't be surprised.

"Why is my seat warm?" They wondered aloud, brows pinched in confusion as they turned their head checking for smoke.

Villain glanced at the center display and laughed.

"Probably because you turned the heated seat on."

How he could decipher that from a glance was far beyond Hero. There were buttons on the steering wheel, for fucks sake. How could he possibly know what did what?

On second thought, he probably owned one of these, or something like it.

Rich bastard. No regard for the climate.

Either they had started to get the hang of driving a 'manual,' or the car from Hell had gotten too tired to keep yelling at them. Either way, they were making steady progress towards their unknown destination. Traffic had thinned out significantly, having passed a major interchange about a mile back. It was easy enough to move over when Villain directed them towards a deserted exit. The only noticible landmark was a run down gas station on their left, complimented by an even more run down gas station on their right.

Hero couldn't help but notice there was absolutely nobody else on this side-street. Not a soul. Not even a man with a cardboard sign at the corner. And definitely no Maroon SUV.

"Where are your…friends?" They hesitated, but he knew what they meant.

He was perceptive, when he wanted to be.

"We're past the point of needing their help." He scowled.

A hint of frustration in their voice, Hero replied, stressing, "Okay, what does that mean?!"

He ignored their question in favor of tracing his eyes over the reappearing screen of his phone, lifting his fingers and moving them lightly in the air as if deciding what he was going to type. Sick and tired of being held out of the loop, Hero made a judgment call.

After a quick and discrete mirror check, they braced their arms against the steering wheel and floored the brake. With one arm they threw the stick into park and reached into Villain's space with the other. They snatched the device right out his hands in a move so sudden not even he could stop it.

They cradled the stolen good in their hands carefully and swiped hurriedly at the screen. Skipping past the most recent message, Hero started with the notification at the top of the chat.

It read:

It is with great disappointment that I halt the search for item 350.

So by 'help,' he meant they were past the point of needing their money. The briefcase was no longer for sale.

By this point, Villain's arms were well on the way to attempt to reclaim his property. He had easily recovered from his head whipping back into the headrest and was moving at a lightning speed that should have been terribly hard to rival.

For once, Hero was faster.

Lack of seatbelt working in their favor, they flung open the door and put a few steps' distance between them and Santa's sled. Villain followed their lead on his own side, and their eyes connected over the roof with a fire that had thus far been left to a mutual low simmer during their obligatory road trip. Now, it was a wild roaring thing, and Hero couldn't help but think they were very, very close to getting burned.

Planning on delaying that for as long as possible, Hero juked left and then right, commencing a comically circular chase around the evil car. Every once in a while they both paused, before abruptly switching directions and continuing the unproductive pursuit. For a while, Hero thought they might be stuck running clockwise forever, eternally doomed to be four steps away from Villain for the rest of their life.

Of course, the universe was not so merciful.

Finally, their ankle folded, and they hit the ground with a regretful small squeak. This left them sprawled out on the concrete. At some point, the phone had left their hand and was now skidding across the cement. It slid itself all the way over to a towering pair of legs, coming to a stop by landing perfectly under the slightly raised toe of a shiny black loafer.

Tragic, yes. But damn him that looked cool.

Tenacious as they were, Hero didn't simply give up there—though they probably should have. They sprung forward one last time, moving horizontally with the leverage of all four limbs. Stretching out their arm, they miscalculated just how far they were from Villain's feet, leading to them just barely grazing the phone with their fingertips. While this was enough to dislodge it, it unfortunately was not enough to bring it back into their possession. It was, however, enough to send it spinning into the thin opening of the nearest storm drain lining the street.

Hero watched the device disappear with disbelieving eyes. They looked up with familiar horror to find Villain pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Remind me again why I'm keeping you alive?"

The truth was they had absolutely no idea.

"My charming good-looks and my witty humor?" They squeaked.

"You're right." The villain nodded, approaching with purposeful steps. "It's definitely time to kill you."

He reached down and grabbed Hero by their overpriced collar and they heard it rip—which they were upset about for a moment before they realized they hadn't actually used their own money to buy it, and that really shouldn't be their priority right at the moment anyway. They let him lift them to their feet, because they didn't really know what else to do. Surely, if he was really going to kill them, he wouldn't do it on the street in broad daylight. They at least had a few seconds to figure out how to quell his homicidal impulse while he contemplated a more private location. At least, that's what they thought.

A quick glance into his eyes had them thinking otherwise.

Well, shit.

Hey, didn't they still have that knife?

They didn't even get their fingertips into their pocket before the switchblade was back in Villain's hands. He pointed and waved it, still closed, right in their face.

"You are such a pain in my ass."

Right back at him.

He crowded them against the car with a proximity that would have an elderly bystander blushing. Hero averted their eyes with such veracity that they clocked every nonexistent pedestrian in a block radius. They desperately wanted to shout, make any kind of sound, to tell anyone hidden in the vicinity that this was not an age-gap romance, but in fact an active and ongoing kidnapping—and yes, they did consider those to be mutually exclusive—but they found their throat sealed tightly shut. When he slid them momentarily to the side and pulled open the door, Hero happily fell right in to the open space, incredibly grateful to put some distance between them.

He didn't bother to threaten them, which Hero found incredibly disconcerting. He also didn't get in after them. Hero had barely enough time to pull their feet in before he closed the door and clicked lock on the fob, turning to lean against the side of the tomato instead. He rustled around in his jacket pocket, and Hero's mouth gaped when they realized he was pulling out a cigarette.

Temporarily forgetting all forms of reason, Hero leaned back against the center console and brought their knees up to their chest to kick at the door and window that separated them. They may or may not have yelled something about lung cancer. Naturally, Villain ignored them, blowing out slow puffs of smoke leisurely like he was on his ten minute lunch break.

Coming back to their senses—but still very much enraged—Hero turned to looking for the interior unlock button. The only problem was the car was so fucking fancy they couldn't find it. No peg by the window, no little switch by the handle. Just smooth upholstery and switches with symbols simplied beyond all comprehension. Hero cursed minimalism as their search continued to turn up empty. Surely this had to be some kind of safety hazard.

Just when they'd given up, thighs burning and ankle throbbing, they saw lights flash on the side-view mirrors. The door opened and their least favorite person in the world poked his head in to mockingly ask,

"Is your tantrum over?"

They opened their mouth, already appalled at the audacity. Their stunned silence snapped when he looked them in the eyes as he took a drag and blew the smoke straight into the car.

Not anymore, it wasn't.

"You ASSHOLE!"

The door slammed shut again, leaving them screaming and coughing into a practical void.

When he opened it again, Hero had their eyes closed and seat leaned all the way back, breathing in a practiced rhythm. At some point they had popped a button on their shirt, which they covered with folded arms.

"Is this the part where you stab me again?" They questioned calmly.

"I would, but that doesn't seem to deter you."

"Maybe if you just told me shit instead of dragging me around like a court jester—"

"You are entertaining, I'll give you that."

Hero froze. Collected themselves.

This was about bigger things.

“You should have told me from the beginning. Before the beginning. I could have helped. I could still help.”

“I prefer not to work with reckless and impulsive people," Hero gave him an intense side-eye that did not seem to discourage him in the slightest, "that have a predisposition for distrusting and despising me.”

Harsh, but fair.

“And frankly, the less people that know about the briefcase, the better.”

Apparently that included Hero, because they had still yet to hear what exactly was in this damn thing. Currently they were trusting the word of their sworn enemy, by whom they were actively being held hostage.

Well, they thought they were still being held hostage. Pretty sure. They were having a bit of a moment, rare discussion with honesty and all.

Maybe they should test it out, just to be safe.

A fist in their torn collar brought them down before they could even properly turn.

"Gods, you are a child. Sit down."

Yep. Still a hostage.

But hey—they were not a child. They were past legal drinking age, thank him very much. They opened their mouth to say as much, before realizing that probably wasn't as much of a flex as they were thinking it was.

"Do you want to help or not? Cause right now you're still just being a pain in my ass. And I don't tend to let those stick around."

There was the threat they'd been missing. It was comforting, almost. Familiar at the least.

"You could just let me go?" Hero suggested optimistically.

Villain tilted his head down and leveled them with a knowing look.

"Can you honestly say that that would stop you from meddling in this affair?"

Of course not.

"Yes! I just want to get out of here and away from you!" Hero pleaded emphatically.

He didn't buy it, not that Hero could blame him at this point. A volcanic explosion wouldn't be near enough stop them and their life-threatening tenacity.

"At least this way I can keep an eye on you."

And if that wasn't a fate-sealing sentence, Hero didn't know what was.

@kayochine @whumplicity

[yougivemewhumperflies]

WIP TAG GAME

Thanks to @lilostrike for the tag!

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous, and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

Ahhhhh *covers hands over eyes*

The Magician’s Trap Ice Ideas Invisible Invisible 2 Royal Ideas Royal Royal 2 Statue EC part 8 Idea Protect Wish Epilogue Cursed Part 15 Cursed Part 16 Guardian Girl Things that help me write

This list is brutal to see. Tags so you can suffer too (no, 17 is too many and yes, I do really want to see your work!): @jumpywhumpywriter @how-the-powerful-fall @f1shs-b0nes @bookshelf-for-stuff-i-wanna-read @bloodthirsty-squirrel @whumpninja @a-little-bit-of-whump-123 @surplus-of-sarcasm @kiichu @sacredwrath @piddlepog64 @enemieswbenefits

[jumpywhumpywriter]

OOOOOH THANKS FOR THE TAG! This looks fun! (And also deeply humbling, because I am now forced to confront just how many WIPS I have going on behind the scenes right now XD)

*winces knowingly before adding my WIPS list here for everyone to see*:

Broken Hero vs Mind-reading Villain

Special lengthy series specifically for 🎀 anon (a secret project for now)

The Siren and the Little Girl

Emaciated Villain Used as Entertainment at a Hero's Party

Run, Human, RUN

Hero Kidnaps Villain

Beauty and The Freak

The Monster in the Black Room

Whumpee (Nico) Drugged for His Own Good

Immortal Deity Fights Mortal Human

Mysterious Villain spares Hero

Injured Sidekick -- Hero's apprenticeship with Other Supervillain backstory -- separate series

Injured Sidekick bonus scene (Medic)

Injured Sidekick bonus scene (Henchman)

Superhero x Rogue series (using characters from Injured Sidekick universe)

Villain's coffee shop bonus scene: how Villain discovered Mocha's superpower

Villain's coffee shop bonus scene: how Villain got his burn scars saving a life

Two Living Weapons

Whumpee kills Whumper

"Don't attack someone without knowing who their friends are" -- "Whumpee's secret"

Bully Whumper (prompt from another writer who didn't want to write it)

Villain memory loss

Antagonist's false victory -- "plot twist"

"Slave whumpee gifted to a royal" series

Villain experiences street justice

Whumper secretly scared of Whumpee

Hero's child with death-touch superpower

Rescued by a monster after car crash in the wilderness

Guard & captive Supervillain who breaks free

Quadriplegic hero

Misc Shadow scenes

Werewolf Hero

The Vampire King

Hero's evil twin, Villain

Villain pushes hero too far

Vampire hypnosis story continuation (anon request)

Overprotective villain x younger siblings who IS a hero and they sedate them and have to watch their sibling take over the world? LOVE UR WORK. BONUS POINTS IF THIS IS A VILLAIN FAMILY. (Anon request)

Terrifying Villain with addictive mind powers (requested by @doctorsawyer)

Rooftop hero x villain prompts list (anon request)

🐉 anon story requests (several of them are lurking in my inbox right now; I'll get around to writing them eventually)

Injured villain goes to the hero asking for their help (they've been getting closer together) but hero actually betrays them (anon request)

hero fights villain, but the first is already hurt from a previous battle, so they almost doesn't make it BUT a rival saves them and eventually ends up being their caretaker (anon request once more)

Blind whumpee comfort (anon request)

City Dragon

Purring vampire

Mercy killing

Mute, silent sidekick with slashed vocal cords

Sidekick's powers self-destruct

Child assassin with death touch powers

“You're not supposed to be able to see me”

Vampires & their reflections

Supervillain's daughter & hero

Poem fragments

Literally I am so swamped 😭 53 WIPS in total on this list, and that's just what I could easily find. There's definitely more hidden in my notes and documents that I didn't search for.

I have SOOOOOO much already written for all these WIPS, but none of those writing pieces are complete enough to post yet (or are just written completely out of order. I can't post chapter 5 without writing and posting chapter 4 first, you know? XD)

Here's tags for who I'm curious to see the insane amount of WIPS they have (@chaotic-orphan, I might have outdone you with how many WIPS I have XD)

@whumplicity

@heros-whumper

@whumping-valentine

@justbreakonme

@goes-whump-in-the-night

@dreamingofviolence

@barbarianwomon

@whumperofworlds

@kninewarrior-whump

@letters-unsending

@theultimatespicysandwich

@whump-till-ya-jump

@whumpy-daydreams

@not-a-space-alien

@whump-world

@emcscared-whumps

@whumpshaped

@loreleiloon

@writinggremln

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whumpologyy

@afterdarkwhump

@galactic-worm

@just-a-space-rabbit

@3-2-whump

@melpomenelamusa

@whumpisgoodwhumpislife

@honeycollectswhump

@wolfeyedwitch

@sorrowful-hyacinth

@the-bloody-sadist

@snaillamp

@paingoes

@livelaughwhump

@autocrats-in-love

@defire

@tildeathiwillwrite

@painsandconfusion

@oddsconvert

@whump-mania

@snakebites-and-ink

@thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

@neon-kazoo

@whumpy-wyrms

@there-will-always-be-blood

@mj-iza-writer

@yet-how-they-creep

@whumpster-dumpster

@whump-queen

[dreamingofviolence]

Thanks for the tag Jumpy!!

Ngl I feel humbled the other way around, I have too little WIP😭😭 I have so many ideas but too little time to put them in words (because my biggest WIP right now that looms over my shoulder all the time is my BA thesis…) I’m waiting for summer to be free to write. Anyways, here’s the list:

Part 5 of the Nothing Hurts Like You Do series (remember when I said update till the end of march? please don’t hit me…)

Part 2 of Have you earned your stripes?

Part 2 of Please don’t cry

Hero x Villain snippet (confrontation after the years with some cool powers)

So yeah it’s really small…

Here’s tags:

@stars-hide-our-fires

@writinggremln

@neon-kazoo

@birdie-likes

(I know some of you were already tagged but I’m also curious hahah)

[neon-kazoo]

Thank you @jumpywhumpywriter @dreamingofviolence and @chaotic-orphan for the tags <3

Well ig if three whole people want me to confront my laundry list of ideas ig I can do it

This is probably not everything because theres 500 notes on my phone and I’m not that committed. (Also wip folder? What’s a folder? We die like my iphone 11 every time I open my notes app)

In no particular order (ok kinda most recently worked on first):

1. Zoom Zoom (The Briefcase part idek)

2. Stairs pt. 4

3. Something New (Bloodstained Ivory part idek)

4. That Funny Feeling (is it a WIP if it’s fully finished and sitting in my drafts?)

5. Any Volunteers?

6. Request 1

7. Request 2

8. Hero with intrusive thoughts

9. Birmingham

10. A Rude Awakening pt. 3 (its actually 4)

11. Forced Proximity Trope

12. [No title]

13. Checks on prisoner for first time

14. Shivers

15. Pre-interrogation

16. Fakes violent kidnapping to get villain to capture them

17. Two friends arguing, making up

18. Handcuffed together

19. Doorbell/Knock Knock

20. Funnily enough, Civilian didn’t remember there being a half-dead man slumped against their door when they left.

21. “Why didn’t you ask for help earlier?”

22. Hostage-walking disabled civilian through forest/desert

23. Criss-cross apple sauce instead of kneeling

24. Get captured by the villain to avoid death at hands of another

25. Diner scene

26. Stolen from Agatha Christie

27. Of course I knew you were coming

28. Betrayal

29. She was doing that thing again

30. Hero that doesn’t fight

31. The villain wants the hero to have a peaceful night

32. “Is this a bad time to mention I’ve never had alcohol before?”

33. My thumb hurts

34. “I feel like my rice purity score is about to go down”

35. Enemy dinner!!

36. The heroes got away. Again

37. Cosplaying

38. Chase down stairs

39. Character incapacitated

40. Hero and Villain Go Holiday Shopping

41. Hero has to open a safe

42. [No title]

43. Taken hostage a second time

44. Hero/villain stuttering!

45. Villain making fun of hero (Civilian?) for getting in bed early

46. Mind control villain and eds hero

47. “Are you aware that your shoulder is trying to secede from the union?”

48. A Villain’s Guide on How to Track Your Hero Down (and Maybe Save Your Identity in the Process)

49. Hero and villain fighting

50. Fight like a dance

51. Other villain captures hero’s partner

52. Hero tries to tooth capsule to avoid capture

53. Hero trapped in mind box

54. Tired

55. I’m here. Now let them go.

56. [no title]

57. Villain tries to trap hero in elevator

58. Guest of Honor

59. Hero learning ASL for villain

60. Carnival

61. Hero has hiccups

62. Relief

63. Hurt

64. Kill Count

65. Villain feeds captive hero dino nuggets

66. One Day

67. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how horribly am I about to die?”

68. Done

69. The Waiting Room

70. One Day

71. “Join me”

72. Helpful

73. Injured

Ok yeah thats not everything but I’m tapping out at that particular number for no reason whatsoever

yeah you’re not getting 73 tags out of me, so let’s just ignore the 7 shall we?

@whumplicity @pastlivesandleftoverstories @surplus-of-sarcasm

no pressure and sorry for double-tagging some of you!

[neon-kazoo]

NEON

*politely but eagerly kicks door down*

BLUFF IS SO GOOD

Could we maybe perchance have a part 4????

👉🏻👈🏻

Well someone owes me a new door

Part one Part two Part three

Bluff (part four)

That whole needle move was cheap, if you asked Hero.

What wasn't cheap, however, was this glorious scotch. True to his word, Villain supplied them with a glass and they nursed it like it was their last meal—and by that they meant they downed it all in one gulp. That earned them an unsavory look from the bottle's owner, but didn't stop him from pouring them a second—albeit lower—glass.

This one they actually did sip slowly, obviously trying to avoid having to explain their rather unfortunate situation any sooner than necessary. They rolled their newly-freed wrists around in a circle, massaging the colored lines that marked the raw and bruised skin. Across from them the villain watched from his cartoonish chair with an increasingly nefarious look in his eyes.

He didn't much care for their stalling.

"You have about ten seconds before we go back to trying this the other way," he warned, patting the dark oak tabletop—the location of the mystery injection.

Hero swallowed a little harder than necessary at the threat. In a timely but not frantic manner, they set down their glass and took a moment to work their jaw, mulling on the words they were about to speak.

In an ideal world, they would be explaining this to the authorities and not to their nemesis inside his own lair. And certainly not at the threat of needle-point, although Hero strongly suspected the ominous syringe was filled with nothing but saline. Hero deeply resented that he hadn't just asked for what he wanted to know. Polite inquiries could go a long way, not that Villain was really ever known for being polite.

Still, Villain did not hold the worst traits Hero had ever encountered. He was unpredictable yes, but still somewhat of a known. They couldn't say the same for their previous captors, however.

"I…really don't know who they were."

They slid back in the leather chair and slumped slightly in defeat.

"Unfortunately, you are going to have to do better than that."

Hero figured there was no better place to start than the beginning.

"Do you ever get spam calls?"

The villain blinked, unimpressed. The hero stumbled forward into their ramble irregardless of the look they received.

"I ignored it, like a regular person. The first few times. The thing was, they just kept calling. Five missed calls. The same number. Eventually, curiosity wins, you know?" They coughed awkwardly, and wished they could blame it on a swallow gone wrong. "So I answered it."

"Thrilling, but I am failing to see the relevance here."

"I'm getting there, I swear."

Hero picked their drink back up, cradling it like it could protect them from the memories of their recent past. Villain raised a singular brow, which they assumed was indicative of the wordless question 'are you?' Hero, unappreciative of being rushed, simply closed their eyes before continuing to speak.

"It was one of those robot voices. At first I couldn't make it out so I almost hung up, but then…they said a name."

They felt their face scrunch up with a look that certainly revealed their pain.

"An…important one."

Hero's eyes fluttered open in time to see the villain grab his own glass, tilting back a long sip without breaking his weighted gaze. The hero felt pinned in place by it, tempted to throw their half-empty drink against the wall and let it shatter just to get those eyes off of them for even just a second.

For that though, they knew there would be consequences. The best thing they could do for themselves now was finish the story.

"After that it said a place and the call cut off."

The hero shrugged, like this information was insignificant.

"The building with the storage room," Villain questioned casually.

"Yeah, the building with the storage room," they confirmed.

The villain nodded, folding one leg over the other and tilting his head for them to continue.

"What happened once you got there?"

The hero grimaced again and drained the rest of their glass.

"There was a picture taped to the door. While I was looking at it, some people came up behind me. They told me if I didn't follow their instructions exactly—"

Despite themselves, they felt the blood drain from their face. They unfocused their eyes for a moment, taking a second to pull themselves back from the edge of catastrophic thinking.

Passing out right now would not do anyone any good.

"They wouldn't let me turn around. Led me further into the building, cuffed me to a shelf. Told me even if I got loose, they'd kill them if they even so much as saw me in the next forty-eight hours. Then they left me there. Alone. And, well." They winced abashedly, "You know what happened after that."

The villain hummed, sipping again like he was simply catching up with an old friend over a drink. Hero wished they had a drop left to mimic him.

"Well, isn't that interesting."

Tragic and terrifying were probably better words in the hero's opinion. No part of what they had recounted brought them an ounce of the intrigue it clearly sparked in the villain. Hero didn't know if it was a good or bad thing for their predicament to have caught his interest.

"That is, if you are telling the truth."

Hero's entire body went stiff as they froze. Admittedly, they had gone a little light on the details, but they hadn't told a lie. They knew better than that. Clearly, though, their nemesis had conjured some kind of reason to distrust them. They looked up into Villain's eyes and did not like what they found swimming behind them. He rose to his feet and Hero followed just a millisecond behind, taking an immediate step back and around the chair they had been sitting in.

No shot they were staying still to find out what he planned on doing next.

"Woah there."

The villain raised a hand in a placating gesture. The hero didn't stop, fully rounding the furniture to try and put some distance between them. It worked for a moment while the villain advanced, until their foot caught on one of the cursed foot stools and slowed them just enough for him to catch hold.

But when he did, strangely, he didn't immediately push them down onto the carpet or force their hands behind their back. Instead, he braced an arm against each of their shoulders, patting one twice in reassurance.

"Relax," he spoke calmly, "we're just going to do a bit of fact-checking, that's all."

Right. And that meant what, exactly?

The undying optimist in them imagined Villain leading them over to a computer, asking them more questions, confirming details of their story. He didn't grip them any tighter, just waited calmly for them to react.

Maybe they were just too on edge from earlier.

Hero let out a shaky breath. They dropped their relieved gaze down and beside them to the table and found two coasters resting alone. Immediately, they tried to twist, but found themselves inadvertently turning into the needle that sank into the side of their neck.

"No. No!"

Their performative stoicness long forgotten, the hero cursed as they felt the burn of who-know-what being injected under their skin.

"Don't worry, it's over," the villain soothed. He held up the empty syringe as if that was going to make it any better. The hero ashamedly felt tears begin to run parallel tracks down their face.

Gently, Villain guided the jerking mess that was the hero to the floor.

"What…," they choked, "what did you?"

"That was just a little something to help you relax."

What a job it was doing so far. The hero twisted and writhed, anything to get away from treacherous backstabber on top of them now. How this was going to help the villain find out anything was far, far beyond the hero at this point. Sensing their confusion, or perhaps just eager to reveal his play, the villain continued.

"The truth serum, you'll find," the corners of his mouth tilted up with nothing short of pure unadulterated satisfaction, "was in the liquor."

The hero could only stare in bewildered shock as their limbs grew heavy and their mind made the almost imperceptible switch.

@laurenpiplupfluff2 @whumplicity @thelazywitchphotographer

[neon-kazoo]

Pain

“It hurts.”

A shuddering breath was sucked through a set of dry lips.

“God, it hurts so bad.”

Shaking hands pushed weakly towards a source they would never be able to reach.

“It’s not— I can’t— I can’t do this.”

They shifted, rolled. Writhed.

It didn’t help. Nothing helped.

“I can’t do this!”

Moments of quiet agony followed, until the hero looked up with red-rimmed eyes. Pitiful as it was, the villain couldn’t be sure they had broken until they spoke again.

“Kill me.”

A visceral groan sealed the plea.

“Kill me please.”

[neon-kazoo]

An Even Ruder Car Ride (A Rude Awakening pt. 2)

"She's gonna forget to feed Bartholomew."

That earned Civilian a side eye from the villain—who had indeed instructed her to be quiet, but had yet to do anything to enforce that instruction. Civilian easily disregarded the glare. It wasn't like she was screaming for help or anything, just making an idle comment with no ulterior motive whatsoever.

"Can you remind her? You know, when you do your whole me-for-her proposal thing or whatever your plan is."

She gazed hopefully across the center console. He may have been a pain in her ass, but Bartholomew didn't deserve to get caught up in his owner's affairs. Poor baby would probably be starving by the time her partner noticed, screaming his head off so loud that their nonexistent neighbors would be able to hear.

"I wasn't aware I was taking requests," the villain mused from the driver's seat of the car.

"And I wasn't aware you were in the business of letting innocent pets starve, but here we are."

Civilian was well aware she was pushing her luck. It was, however, the only thing she could think to do in this situation. She turned to look out the window for a quick distraction, watching the familiar shapes of the outskirts start to grow smaller and be replaced by towering buildings that would soon block her view entirely.

"Aware of my business, are we?" The villain raised an eyebrow.

"Aware enough," Civilian muttered under her breath and it fogged the glass of the window.

"Please, enlighten me."

This was the part where Hero would tell her to shut up. Unfortunately for Hero, and maybe for herself, Civilian had absolutely no intention of doing so.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"You think I make a habit of letting complete strangers march me off in the middle of the night?"

She adjusted the air vent as she spoke. The villain huffed a laugh at the rhetorical question and Civilian narrowed her gaze.

"What?"

He met their eyes across the car and Civilian held tight to the voice of Hero in her head begging her not to jump out of the car and roll onto the highway. Just when she thought she’d have to break her promise, he went back to looking straight out the windshield.

"I'm starting to think I should have kidnapped the cat."

"Hey!" Civilian protested. "I think I'm a perfectly good victim," she huffed back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We'll see about that," he lilted, and suddenly Civilian no longer liked the sound of it.

Before she knew it the car was being pulled into the shadow of a darkened overpass. Middle of the night as it was, there was no one on the roads to question the illegal parking. For once, Civilian tentatively kept her mouth closed as he shifted it into park, unsure about the sudden stop seeing as there was no obvious evil lair in sight.

"Okay, 'perfectly good victim', put this on."

He held up a dark strip of fabric and Civilian scowled in distaste, leaning away automatically towards the door. The villain narrowed his eyes.

"Blindfold, or the trunk. Your choice."

With a hefty glare Civilian would never dare use on Bartholomew, she snatched the dangling fabric out of his hand. Villain put his foot back on the brake with his newly-freed hand drifting towards the gear shift to put it back in drive. Just as it seemed she was about to comply, a single index finger lifted itself into the air.

"On one condition."

The villain stopped in his tracks. He slid his gaze begrudgingly to the passenger seat and immediately began to roll his eyes.

"Let me guess—"

"Bartholomew gets fed."

Her captor stared at her, not blinking. Years of being a notoriously hardened villain swam behind his eyes. His fingers flexed against the wheel, fighting the urge to do who-knows-what. Finally, despite the clear villainous impulses, he seemed to decide to pick his battle elsewhere.

"If I say yes, I expect to not hear another word."

Civilian paused, for dramatic effect.

"Fine."

The villain doubled her pause, and she was absolutely sure he did it just to spite her.

"Rest assured," he acquiesced mockingly, "your true beloved will receive his tube treats."

The corners of Civilian's mouth lifted in satisfaction as she tied the strip around her eyes. For now, it was the closest to a win that she could she get.

@whumplicity @pastlivesandleftoverstories (I believe you were interested :)

[neon-kazoo]

Remember

Hero curled their body into a deep groove where large roots met the wide trunk of a tree. They rested their cheekbone against the rough bark, pressing into it in search of a sensation to ground them. High above, branches swayed and leaves bristled. The tree surrounded them in all the ways it could as they closed their eyes and drifted towards a peaceful slumber.

“I always knew there was something going on between you two.”

Hero’s head snapped towards the softened voice. Their eyes confirmed the horrid reality that caused them to scramble to their feet. They braced against the tree, afraid to lose their balance in the tangle of roots underfoot.

“Henchman it’s not—“ They started, salvage-mode automatic as it always was. They didn’t dare lift a hand to wipe the tears from their imprinted cheek.

Henchman slowly shook their head.

“It is. That’s okay.”

Hero cast their gaze down, tucking their hands under their arms shamefully.

“I’ll— I’ll leave.”

They stumbled out a few steps, not enough to truly leave the cover of the sprawling limbs.

“No. Stay.”

The former henchman lowered their own eyes. They quietly placed something at the base of the tree, whispering an unheard word before retreating back onto the barely-worn path.

“I won’t disturb your moment any further.”

The hero stopped, not quite sure what to do. A moment passed once the rustling of grass confirmed the henchman’s retreat. Warily, Hero returned to rest against the trunk.

The tree itself was a massive thing, both sturdy and sprawling. Imposing to an outsider, nothing but comforting to the one who sought refuge there. Its importance was far detached from its size, however. Its real significance came from below.

Feeling the gentle pull, the hero spread their hand out against the ground, fingers sliding on freshly fallen leaves.

Beneath their calloused palm rested a body, long since enveloped by the caring roots of the tree. Bones laid in peace in the soil, the softer parts of them returned to the forest. This the hero knew. Their lover was all around them, the dirt under their nails, the light reflecting off of the leaves, the whisper of the passing wind. The surrounding forest thrived, and the tree stood tall with the strength of the one that had fallen.

Season after season the hero returned. Maybe to pay tribute, maybe to mourn, maybe to love.

Over time, even bones become brittle. Given many more years, it would be as if the villain had never laid there at all. But regardless, the hero remembered. And so does the forest.

@whumplicity

[neon-kazoo]

Christmas comes earlier because I’ve gone over this so many times that I can’t look at it anymore. Take that self-imposed deadline!

Part one Part two

Elevator I (Stairs pt. 3)

Brooke was in desperate need of an overpriced drink with an oversized straw.

After an evening date with lidocaine and a full day spent in bed, Brooke knew it was in their best interest to at least attempt to leave their apartment. They had been holding themselves back from Google for all of two days and knew she wouldn't last much longer, so she decided to make a day of it. She grabbed her keys, her laptop, and her wallet and headed out the door.

It was a short journey, but every journey was a challenge when you're dealing with city-maintained sidewalks. Brooke paused for a second to roll out her shoulders. They had to be extra careful watching for cracks since they no longer had the protection of a functioning seatbelt, courtesy of one infuriating villain. A kind fireman had cut them out of it, and they removed the annoying remnants later with some kitchen scissors so the straps didn’t keep getting caught in their spokes.

It was a nice enough day, few clouds in the sky keeping the sun bright but not blinding. The rest of the view they couldn't really enjoy, eyes trained down as they were. The last thing she needed for her mental or physical health was to be launched onto the concrete because she missed a rise in the pavement, hence the extra caution.

They had most of the route memorized, but some construction had forced them into a slight detour. This way took them past a semi-populated plaza in the center of town. Her unfamiliarity with this sidewalk in particular resulted in a much-too-long search for an elusive curb cut. Luckily one did exist, and their destination was within sight just across the road.

They finally arrived at a cute little boba shop that they knew had a table low enough for them tucked into a cozy corner, complete with an unobtrusive sign encouraging guests to leave it empty for those who needed it. They did have to jump the threshold, but after that there was a nice clear path to the register, and staff friendly enough to help them carry their drink to the table.

Brooke wasn't sure if they just always saw her coming, or if the chair on one side was pulled away permanently. Either way, it was thoughtful and appreciated as they easily maneuvered themselves under the table.

Brooke's fingers stretched out eagerly, lifting the lid of the laptop she had placed on the table and beginning to tap away at the keys, thus beginning the search for her previous captor. It was easy enough to find him, given he had given them his apparently self-proclaimed villain name which dozens of articles referenced in their headlines.

Apparently, they really should have heard of him.

The Hive was an up and coming amateur villain who had made his debut only a few blocks from the mall. He had made almost ten appearances since then, with the mall being the most recent and closest to home. Putting aside the under-a-rock dwellers such as herself, this 'Hive' guy was popular. He even had a hashtag floating around Twitter with a hundred or so posts attached, something Brooke probably would have known earlier if they hadn't deleted all their social media apps.

The first, though admittedly not most pressing, question she had was: what was up with 'Hive'? Brooke did not see any bees, nor did they remember hearing any tell-tale buzzing coming from the villain or his lackeys. Additionally, they encountered no yellow stripes, no stingers, no anything else they could possibly think to associate with the term.

His power, as confirmed by his entry on HeroVillainpedia, was selective incorporeal form. His name origin was listed as self: public broadcast, and he was unsurprisingly known to always work alongside a large group of henchmen. Brooke reached the bottom of the page without learning much more about the man that they hadn't already gathered from being in the mall. She leaned back in her chair, taking a long sip from her frankly quite heavy cup.

So superheroes and villains were in fact real and present in her town, and that wasn't all just a fever dream induced via a bad medication reaction.

Well, can't blame a girl for having hope.

Setting down their drink, Brooke finally allowed her mind to drift to what had actually been bothering them so much since the villain had sunk through the floor.

He said he'd be back. Or— well, that was just it. Brooke heard him say he'd be back. They remembered it clear as day, and they could picture his face as he said it with the perfect clarity of if they were watching a 4K HD video. He had lifted his visor, winked, saluted, and turned incorporeal.

The problem was: his mouth never moved.

Not once in that whole sequence did his lips part. Maybe he was some kind of ventriloquist? Even then, there has to be some kind of opening for the sound to escape—a quirk of the lip maybe—and Brooke was confident his mouth had been sealed shut.

What part of phantom powers, they thought suspiciously, lets you speak with your mouth closed?

Additional searches for 'Incorporeal voice projection' and 'Stress-induced auditory hallucinations' yielded nothing useful. Brooke continued to scroll down on an article about superpower development that was very obviously posted on a free journal site. One of the twenty ads on the screen caught her attention, probably because it appeared across her screen as a pop up, effectively blocking her view of everything else. The ridiculously-large banner read:

Download VillainWatch Now!!

Stay informed fast with real-time updates and alerts for villain activity in your area.

Disregarding the questionable grammar choices, it was a decently placed advertisement. Compelling enough for Brooke to flip over her phone on the table and unlock it. It really wasn't a horrible idea. They wouldn't mind a helping hand potentially ensuring she steered clear of any future…incidents. Not that she was worried about any particular villain's promised return. The app itself seemed to be free, so Brooke shrugged and hit download.

It first prompted her to select their city. Then came a system pop-up where she of course had to give it access to her exact location, digital privacy be damned. After that all she had to do was allow push notifications and seemingly they were all set.

That taken care of, there was one more thing she wanted to look into. Brooke clicked exit on all but one tab, pulling up a fresh search page for the other superpowered individual that had taken up rent-free residence in their head.

The Sun.

After pulling up a few telescope photos and some clip arts of yellow circles, Brooke amended their search to include the name of their city and the 'hero' designation. Obviously, it was only logical to check up on the other side, the people—or person—meant to be taking care of the city and its subsequent threats.

Dozens of articles gushing about her success flooded the results. Just upon first glance, she seemed to be connected to several charities, have attended a multitude of community events, as well as countless instances of the equivalent of having rescued a shelter's worth of cats from a very tall tree. Overwhelmed by the sheer amount of positivity found in all, Brooke soon found herself loitering on the images page.

Dozens of photos were arranged all over the screen, ranging from action shots to interview stills, all with the same subject. Some had the braids Brooke had seen at the mall, others had her hair worn naturally, revealing a rounded cut that—in Brooke's humble opinion—complimented her soft features even more.

They would have thought that someone who emanated light would be hard to photograph. It was quite the opposite, in fact. The glow always seemed to hit her face just right, a natural highlighter no beauty brand or makeup artist could ever touch. Even in photos, she was stunning.

A true picture-perfect hero.

Brooke reluctantly closed the lid of their laptop. Their boba was long gone, reduced to pink drops and a thin layer of residue at the bottom, as well as a few surviving pearls. They felt guilty just leaving the empty cup on the table, so they caught the eye of an employee who waved them off with a smile.

"Don't worry about it. Have good day, Brooke!"

Brooke returned the smile and thanked the customer coming in who stopped to hold open the door for them to exit. She located the poorly-marked crosswalk just outside and headed towards it again. Their phone buzzed just as they stopped at the tactile strip, leaning forward to try and get a good view up and down the road. Seeing nothing as far as their vantage point allowed, Brooke rolled cautiously into the street. All was well until about halfway across when the grill of a car suddenly appeared, far too quickly for Brooke to do much but stay the course and hope the driver remembered where the brake pedal was.

Now usually, people are rather apprehensive about hitting a chunk of metal with their car. Not this asshole though. They blew right past the partially-obstructed yield to pedestrians sign, narrowly avoiding clipping said pedestrian who's hair blew back from the proximity of the pass. They allowed themselves to stare bewilderingly down the road for a few long seconds before completing her crossing with a disbelieving shake of her head.

Whether the universe had it out for her or was continuously narrowly protecting her, they may never know.

No other cars in sight, Brooke completed the crossing in as timely of a manner as she could manage. She retraced her steps all the way back to her apartment building where the push of a square silver button let them into the lobby. Brad at the front desk must have been on his lunch break, so Brooke had no one to wave at as they turned down the hall towards their rooms.

She cursed the worn-down carpeting for all of the dozen or so feet she had to cross it. They slipped the key in her lock and heaved open her door. Even lightened as it was by the maintenance guy, it was still a bit of a struggle for them to get through the doorjamb clean, as evidenced by tire marks and paint chips surrounding the area.

Today she no more than lightly clipped the wall of her entryway, and the door soft-closed behind them. Rolling to a stop at the edge of the kitchen, Brooke set her keys in a small dish and finally pulled their phone out of their bag. An unfamiliar notification lit up the top of her screen before she could even reach the unlock page.

Villain activity reported 0.1 miles away

Brooke's eyes widened as they realized that it came from their brand new app. Her eyebrows reached new heights, however, when they caught sight of the timestamp.

22 min ago

Guess it's only helpful if you turn your phone off silent.

They tapped for more details, loading an emergency alert-style page that listed pertinent information that would probably have been more helpful twenty-two minutes ago.

Subject: Hive

Designation: Villain

Threat level: 3

Situation Status: no Heroes on sight

When refreshed, the page listed a hero with designation ’rookie’ responding that Brooke was not familiar with. More eye catching was the location:

Site: City Square.

She passed right by there on the way back from boba. Temporarily frozen by this information, they stopped wiggling their legs where they had been stretched out in front of them. She planted her feet on the ground and grabbed firm hold of the kitchen counter. Confident she had gained her balance, they let go and shuffled the few steps into the living area where they could plop straight onto the couch. They grabbed the remote off the low coffee table, pressing the power button and watching the screen light up while they thought through what channel would be best to catch the news.

The first broadcast they came across was blown up on the screen, showing video of the square and police now blocking off the outer-most section. The headline read, "Villain Executes Coordinated Operation in Square." Two news anchors appeared and were soon joined by an image as close to a mugshot as a candid photo could be. Sure enough, it was the face they had had the misfortune of seeing at the mall and had been researching just a half-hour earlier.

The reporters rambled out words that she only partially processed.

"Officials still aren't sure how—"

Hitting pause, Brooke took a moment to stare with narrowed eyes directly at the screen.

What are you hiding, and more importantly, why?

A chill ran up their spine, only solidifying their earlier anxieties.

Frankly, it tends to freak people out.

Instinctively they tried to shoot to their feet, but she couldn't quite get their legs under them. Instead, Brooke scrambled across the floor. She grabbed her crutch from where it leaned against the wall, wielding it like a weapon in front of her. She aimed it in no particular direction, not quite able to pinpoint where the voice had come from.

Their apartment was clear, no source materializing anywhere that they could see from her view of the living room, kitchen, and hallway. Brooke shook her head, using rushed breaths to start up a fervent mantra: "He's not here, he's not here."

She was not going to panic over a figment of her imagination.

Brooke loosed another breath, and the next time she filled her lungs the air felt a little clearer. They propped themselves up against the sofa and used it to push to their feet. They relocated the remote and firmly pressed the power button, checking first to make sure that the TV was left on mute.

Maybe she was just hungry. Yeah, that was it.

They notched their forearm against the crutch and took a step back towards the kitchen to begin the completely routine process of reheating the leftovers she had saved for lunch.

Alone.

One more time, for good measure, she spoke at normal volume, shrugging,

"He's not here."

For a moment, they believed it.

Right up until she heard a knock on the door.

@pastlivesandleftoverstories

[neon-kazoo]

Hello again! Can I interest you in another new installment for a new installment? I know I gotta do the next bit of A Bit Disappointed. Would you do a part 3 for Stairs in exchange?

You can pick our deadline this time. ☺️ Of course, only if you're interested, no pressure.

You most certainly can :)

I can never resist some good ole peer-pressure I mean motivation!!

Unfortunately I am pretty swamped for the next week and a half, so I would like to propose a very liberal (and slightly embarrassing) deadline of the end of the second week of March.

Can’t wait to see what you write :)

[caffedorzo]

tagged by @orchidreign to make myself with this picrew!! tysm my darling 🖤✨

i was eager to do this one even though i have a lot of other tags to do, since i *thought* i'd be dying my hair in korea and wanted one last picrew with the red.. sigh

tagging: @k1ttenblood, @mvement, @mellowsleepy, @sapokanikan, @bwaldorf

@vermiliones, @starchild--27, @oathome, @allisstardust, @dance-insane

@doppiomacchiato, @cornpotato, @giulla, @solpng, @karube

@fignwtn, @zyx, or anyone who wants to do this!!

[bergamotpeel]

thank u!!

tagging @sundayafternoonsurvivor @legallylibra @bunnyduvet @ladyparamount @dustydolls @peachmango-kombucha and anyone else who wants to 🩷

[legallylibra]

ty for tagging me!! This was a lot of fun and such a cute picrew :0

Tagging @transslycanthropy, @whumpologyy, @brutal-nemesis, @cottoncambi, @keplerspacecraftofficial, @paparoach and anyone else who wants to :3

[brutal-nemesis]

thanks Erin!!

open tag because i am on my phone and i don’t wanna deal with it so jump in if you want to play!!

[b0amagination]

Me and my YELLOW COATTTTT YIPPEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@as-a-matter-of-whump @galaxywhump @whumblr GET IN HERE FRIENDS :3

[whumblr]

love the yellow coat. Thanks for the tag <3

@notlikeothernurses @chaotic-orphan @zillobeastrevival if yall want

[zillobeastrevival]

Tysm Whumbles :D

tagging @creadigol @neon-kazoo @blackrosesandwhump

[neon-kazoo]

Thanks for the tag :)

Why write when I can spend all my free time on picrew?

Tags: @atlaserine @whumplicity