#supervillains

[prokopetz]

Supervillain monologue where it very gradually becomes clear that the science facts they're dramatically declaiming don't actually have anything to do with their current evil scheme and they're just taking advantage of a captive audience to rattle on about things that interest them.

[fuzzy-oooze]

There's this really obscure forgotten DC hero named the Heckler, who's basically buggs bunny as a superhero, not having any powers or physically strong, but just really good at pissing people off until they accidentally deal with themselves.

Now they're interesting, but the REAL star of the show is one of his villains, John Doe the Generic Man, who's this guy in a stark white suit with flat pink unshaded, untextured skin with no features or anything who talks like chatGPT and has black text over his face that explains what he's feeling at the moment. That guy is fucking fascinating.

[cultofthewyrm]

Metal X-men - Mystique by Jhony Caballero

[theshadowrealmitself]

Superhero being worried about doing in-person events because they don’t want to leave their route unpatrolled, what if that’s when the villains attack??

Meanwhile, it’s during those events that crime is at its lowest, because the villains are at the events, getting their merch signed by the hero

[but-a-humble-goon]

There’s something so inherently tragic to me about petty supervillains. People blessed with extraordinary gifts but no ambition to use them beyond pointless selfish personal gain.

There’s a small moment that nonetheless stuck with me from an old episode of Iron Man where he’s battling a villain called the Living Laser who does exactly what it says on the tin and Tony with this touch of genuine sorrow in his voice basically says to him “you have the power to turn into light at will. You are an incredible one of a kind miracle of science. You could change the world. You could do or be anything you wanted… and the very first thing you thought to do was rob a bank. That’s just… sad.”

Everyone’s had their fun laughing at “I don’t want to cure cancer, I want to turn people into dinosaurs” and it is funny but there’s also just this profound tragedy in that isn’t there? Am I mad? That’s so much potential for good wasted.

[unnameablethings]

concept:

supervillain × henchman with the twist that the supervillain is a sort of cartoon foppish dramatic gay villain with gonzo schemes and no bodycount. and the henchman is secretly a grimdark ultrapowerful Apex Predator supervilllain who came to Stake Out the competition. got mistaken for a henchman and found this so fucking funny hes just 100% committed to the bit.

hes carrying around boxes of fucking Acme Corporation sticks of dynamite. hes dressing in the matching stylish outfit. hes managing the other henchmen to execute gonzo schemes flawlessly. genuinely the most fun hes ever had in his life

his dumbass gay boss has literally no idea the lengths he is going to behind the scenes to make sure nobody interferes with any of this shit.

(apex supervillain, in his Supervillain Disguise. homoerotically and terrifyingly flirt/threatens flamboyant supervillain. smash cut to this poor man lying face down on a couch unpacking this with the very attentive henchman)

("hes going to eat me maybe????? but GOD that was the HOTTEST fucking thing thats ever happened to me. but i might DIE?? do u think he LIKES me...."

henchman: i think he does :3)

the ruse comes out when someone who the apex supervillain didnt catch comes to ACTUALLY challenge/harm his gay boss in public and apex supervillain is like. yeah no we're not doing this. time for the power of unfathomable violence.

gay supervillain promptly has a FULL MELTDOWN. oh my god the blood. and also. "you LIED TO ME???"

apex supervillain, apologetically: "I was waiting to see if you'd ever figure it out yourself. And the longer it went the funnier it got."

gay supervillain: "I TRUSTED you!! you were my BEST HENCHMAN"

apex supervillain: aw. past tense?

[the-modern-typewriter]

I love your civilian x villains 😭

Could you please do a civilian (f) x supervillain or villain (m)?

I love it when bad guys get obsessed/fall in love with innocent, terrified and confused sweethearts 🤭✨

Here's a flower for u: 🌷

"Are you hurt?"

"Only by you," she said, as coolly as she could. "You lied to me."

"You're bleeding."

"You let me believe you were just some guy!"

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing, gloves tucked away into his pocket as he reached to brush his fingers along the cut on her abdomen.

She hissed out a breath of pain, recoiling. Their gazes met, danced, did all the things that the most treacherous lovers were supposed to do on a first meeting. "It's just a scratch," she said, belatedly. "My lord."

"You don't need to call me that. Let me see."

"Don't touch me!"

He paused, searching for her gaze again, but she refused him that too, squeezing her eyes shut. Her heart lashed against her ribs. She swallowed.

"You lied to me," she said. "Lord Cyberion."

His supervillain name. Because he had a supervillain name. Because he was a bloody, goddamn supervillain. And he'd let her kiss him. He'd kissed her! So sweet, and aching, enough to make her knees go weak. No doubt, he'd find that funny. He the wolf, and she some sheep though she'd never liked to think herself so meek and so fragile. No.

"So, you see," she continued, tightly. "I do need to call you that. Because that's what everyone calls you who doesn't want to get their head ripped off."

"I wouldn't rip your head, love. It's much too pretty."

"This isn't funny!" Her voice cracked.

"I wasn't joking," he said. "And, see, this is why I didn't tell you. We were having a far nicer time before."

"We were having a far nicer time before I got kidnapped for dating you!"

"It won't happen again."

"Yeah!" Her hands shook as she wrapped them protectively around herself. "Because you just ripped their heads off."

He stepped closer again, and a whimper caught in her throat as he caught her chin, gently. He tipped her head up and her eyes flew open on instinct. Their gazes met, once again, and the second time it was impossible to look away. His were dark enough that to be some new category of black hole that ate all the other black holes, until he was the only thing left in the universe.

His thumb caressed along the line of her jaw.

"Yes," he murmured. "I ripped their heads off, and they would consider that a mercy. Because the alternative to that sweet oblivion would have been to be stuck facing me after they hurt you."

Her breath hitched. He reached for her abdomen again, and when she tried to step back again, she couldn't. He held her too firmly.

"I'd do it again," he said. "And the only thing I would regret is that you were hurt and frightened in the first place. I wanted only pleasurable things for you."

"It's just a scratch," she said, again, breathlessly.

"Which is why they just got their heads ripped off for touching you."

Oh Christ. Oh Jesus. Oh whatever other deity or god or thing, real or imagined or fictional, she could pray to for assistance.

She once again couldn't help but fear, in that moment, that there was only him.

"Let me see." His voice brooked no argument. "I need to know you're okay for myself."

"I-" She didn't know what else to do, so she nodded.

She didn't expect him to sink to his knees in one graceful movement, but it left her dizzy. Mercifully, he moved his eyes off hers, so she could blink back tears and glare at some spot far beyond him.

It didn't stop her feeling his gentle touch, the way he carefully peeled up her bloodied shirt.

"You'll need stitches," he said. "But there doesn't look like there's any internal damage. Still, I'd like to have you checked by a doctor."

"I just want to go home."

"Your home isn't safe until I've had new locks fitted. You really put up a fight, huh?" His voice softened. "The place was damn near torn apart."

"Well, I wasn't planning to just let myself be kidnapped," she muttered.

"That's my girl." He sounded like he was smiling. Warm, fond, possessive.

She shivered. She hated, with all of her shattered heart, that part of her still liked hearing that in his mouth. My girl.

"It wasn't enough," she said.

"It wasn't a battle you could have won."

"Are you?"

He looked up, at that, head tipped back like surrender even if he was nothing but. He let her shirt fall down again, to cover the wound. His lip curled. "You consider me a battle, love?"

"You lied to me," she said. The first of the tears, terribly, pricked her eyes. "I certainly don't consider you a friend."

He hummed at that, then rose to his feet. Knowing what she now knew, he seemed to tower over her.

"And I don't," she bit out, "consider myself yours. I'm not your girl. I'm not your anything. It wasn't real."

"It was plenty real for me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't lie to you and pretend to be something I'm not! I didn't - I'm not -" How to even finish all the things he was that she wasn't?

He was quiet, for a long moment, studying her face. He wiped the tears away as they fell, so tenderly, like he wasn't the cause. Like he could never, ever be the cause.

"No," he said softly. "I'm not a battle you can win. Now, come."

She considered running.

She considered how far she'd get.

She considered the throbbing pain in her abdomen, and the pool of heat in her belly that should have only been rage and disgust but somehow wasn't.

He held out a hand for her to take.

"Are you even sorry," she asked, "for hurting me?"

"I never lied to you," he said. "I merely ommitted the facts that would distress you most."

"So, no."

"I'm sorry," he said, "that you got hurt. But I will never, ever be sorry if the whole world knows you're mine."

She closed her eyes again, so she didn't have to look at him. She took his hand.

He reeled her in and kissed her, sweetly, achingly, and her breath caught. She swayed into him; the warmth and solidness and wretched feeling of safety she'd felt, just for a second, when he came for her.

A lie. He was a beautiful, gorgeous, heartbreaking lie.

She knew, then, that he was right.

He was not a battle she knew how to win.