“Doctor Impossible—evil genius, would-be world conqueror—languishes in prison. Shuffling through the cafeteria line with ordinary criminals, he wonders if the smartest man in the world has done the smartest thing he could with his life. After all, he’s lost every battle he’s ever fought. But this prison won’t hold him forever.
Fatale—half woman, half high-tech warrior—used to be an unemployed cyborg. Now, she’s a rookie member of the world’s most famous super-team, the Champions. But being a superhero is not all flying cars and planets in peril—she learns that in the locker rooms and dive bars of superherodom, the men and women (even mutants) behind the masks are as human as anyone.
Person A of your OTP is a superhero, and Person B is a super villain, both of whom happen to reside in the same small town; neither of them know who the other is outside of the mask.
So when Person A meets Person B at the local coffee shop one day, neither of them think much of it. They hit if off immediately when Person A tells a Star Wars joke and Person B counters with a Star Trek joke, and suddenly they’re in a heated argument about which one is better and why.
It’s not love at first sight.
It’s more of a gradual decline that neither of them realizes is happening until one day, Person A stumbles into the kitchen at 11 a.m., their hair a disaster, dried drool on their cheek and morning breath, and Person B thinks “I’m going to marry this person some day”.
Of course, all good things come to an end.
Person B decides they’ve been too calm, too domestic lately, so lies about a business trip so they can blow a few places up under the guise of their super villain, maybe rob a few banks so they can get Person A something nice (like a ring, maybe).
(Person B gets the ring after they steal money from the bank to buy the ring. But hey, they still paid. They’re doing this right).
Only, Person A is in one of those buildings (Person B checked, no one should’ve been in there, but by the time they blow it up, it’s too late).
Instead of Person A stumbling out of the wreckage, it’s that ridiculous hero that’s been thwarting Person B for as long as they can remember, and Person B just loses it- screams to the heavens because they just killed the one person who could ever love someone like them. And then they attack. Ruthlessly, without a care in the world because suddenly, Person B doesn’t have anyone to fight for, and a person with nothing to lose is the most dangerous kind.
That was their downfall.
When the hero pins Person B to the ground, bruised and bloodied, and grabs for Person B’s mask, they don’t even fight it.
The hero stares and Person B thinks, this is it. This is my time. Perhaps Person A will forgive me if I die too.
Only, when the hero makes a move, it’s towards their own mask, and when it comes off, Person B is staring up at their lover, and doesn’t know if they want to scream or cry or laugh because this, this is not what they expected.
So Person B crawls painstakingly to one knee, pulls out the ring with bloodied fingers and asks,
“Will you marry me?”
And Person A cries. They just break down and cry, and then slap Person B and then kiss them, and then tell them “yes” a million times over because while they’re not conventional, they’re in love and that’s what matters.
They get married seven months later in the local coffee shop, with the Star Wars theme song playing as they walk down the isle.
Atticus hung from the cliff’s ledge, fingers grasping into the stone. Sorcery, not strength, kept him from plunging to certain doom. Balanced on one foot, barely, his cane casually danced with the wind, threatening with each passing moment to abandon him and fall to the chasm below.
“Could you lend me a hand, please?”
A young man sat, comfortably, just a few feet away, eating apricots and sorting through apps on his phone. “I went through quite a bit of trouble to put you there, so…” He did not look up.
“Not until you tell me your sinister plan.”
“…to bake gingerbat cookies and watch a movie.”
“That’s it?” The hero frowned, chewing on a particularly tasty bit of apricot. “What movie? Oh, do you want an apricot?”
“No thank you. Bit busy. Tim Burton’s Night–”
“Tim Burton or Henry Selick?”
The two argued over semantics and film credits, directorial control versus movie poster presentation, for several minutes. “Alright,” the hero muttered, standing up and dusting himself off. “I’ll help you. But first?”
It was a common request. “Yes, yes, alright.” After all, Atticus had been in the business for ages.
The hero’s phone made a sound like an old fashioned camera’s flash bulb going off. The photo appeared a moment later, the two grinning like fools, Atticus dangling and the hero laying on his back.
So earlier today I asked myself, what categories do supervillain teams come in? And these are the answers I came up with, but I’d like some outside input.
1. The Popularity Contest
This team is composed of the villains who have become most popular with the fans, regardless of their abilities or their appropriateness at fighting the hero team at hand. This is best exemplified by the Super Friend’s Legion Of Doom, which was made up of characters that the writers believed kids would recognize. This, notably, led to a team with four Superman villains and three Batman ones, but no Hawkman villains, as well as a team with quite a few members with redundant abilities.
2. The Big Leagues
This team is composed of the most powerful villains the writers can get their hands on. Their reasons for working together may be tenuous at best, but the heroes will still be quaking in their boots. This can probably be best demonstrated by The Light from Young Justice. We never did find out how Vandal Savage was able to keep Lex Luthor and Ra’s Al Ghul in the same room without heads rolling, but I’ll be darned if they weren’t intimidating together.
3. The Battle of Egos
This team is composed of the archenemies of each of the heroes from the story, making for a volatile but well-selling group. The purest example of this would be the JLA’s Injustice Gang, which had one popular villain to oppose each of the Justice League’s heroes….more or less.
4. The Copycats
This team is composed of members who have the exact same powers as the respective heroes they’re expected to fight. These teams often lack charisma or ambition, but they make for cool fight scenes. The best examples of this that doesn’t require a multiverse to work are the Dark Avengers, who got so out of hand they even mimicked the heroes’ costumes.
5. The Counter-Measures
This team is composed of villains who are each designed to take out a specific hero. These villains often aren’t especially popular, or even very powerful when not facing their hero of choice, but they pose a significant threat to the heroes they oppose. For instance, take the original Masters Of Evil, who all had a power that made them especially threatening to one of the founding Avengers….except for Black Knight.
6. The Odd Men Out
This team is composed with little regard to the heroes they’re fighting. They don’t care about fighting the individual members, they just want to have a solid team that can work together decently well. There are a lot of examples of this, but the first that came to my mind was the DCAU’s Injustice Gang, who were entertaining but didn’t have a lot in terms of popularity or significance to the heroes.
7. The Smorgasbord
This team is composed of everyone. Or at least virtually everyone. This is basically a supervillain union, composed of all the baddies the artist had time to draw, and tries to overwhelm the heroes with sheer manpower and scope. The most successful attempt at this was the Secret Society of Supervillains, in its various incarnations.
So whattaya think? Did I get them all, or are there some types of supervillain teams I missed?