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#americanoooooo don’t you try to catch me
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In need of some hurt comfort😭😭.
What about a tired, but stubborn hero and patient, lovely villain that slowly helps them rest? Know it's very cliché I just will always love itt(sorry for bad English)
Have an awesome day!
“Oh God,” the hero whispered. They kneeled on the ground of their kitchenfloor, staring at the white tiles. Their knees hurt, their shins burnt.
All they could do was stare at the broken mug in front of them.
It was getting worse and they could feel it. They were losing their mind, becoming more and more of a restless zombie that wandered around the city.
Now they were seeing shadows, they heard whispers. They forgot things easily and even lashed out more frequently. They could barely tell what kind of person they were anymore.
“Sweetheart…” The villain’s voice was clear and soft. At least the hero still understood that. They turned their head and looked up the villain. “…it’s three in the morning.”
“I…I wanted something. I think I was making coffee…?”
“I think you should be in bed right now,” the villain said. They kept their distance.
“What are you doing here?” the hero asked. Their gaze was glued on the mug again. A birthday gift from their parents.
They were saving people on a daily basis and their parents gave them a mug for their birthday? Weren’t they worth a little more than that? Hadn’t they actually achieved something spectacular in their relatively short life?
“I was actually going to…steal some documents from you. But I heard you and…” They didn’t have to say much more.
In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the hero just as insignificant as everyone else? But their achievements couldn’t possibly be for nothing.
Or was this a sibling thing? Were their parents trying not to make the hero’s siblings feel left out? But even then, to be fair, the hero had accomplished more, they had been more successful, they had fulfilled their potential.
What more could their parents ask for?
What more could the hero give to them, except for their pure flesh and bone?
“I’m not really sure what you’re doing,” the villain said. “But I’m pretty sure you should be in bed.”
“I wasn’t asking for advice.”
“Consider me concerned.”
“Consider me annoyed.”
“You’re bleeding, do you know that?” the villain asked and when the hero looked down their hands, they could see it too. They had cut themselves on the shards of the mug and the hero had been too concerned with other things to realise it.
When had they become so sloppy?
“Goddammit…” They stood up — making their knees and ankles crack from sitting too long — and cursed quietly as the blood was running down their arms. They went to the sink and turned it on.
“…I’m not really supposed to talk to you when I’m stealing from you but, uh, are you okay?”
“I’m totally fine.” The hero turned off the water but that didn’t really help. The cuts were deep and they needed to stop the bleeding. Lost in their thoughts, they grabbed a dish towel and pressed it against their palms.
Now, the villain took a step forward. Then another. And another.
They grabbed the hero’s hands.
“Sometimes I don’t know what team you’re playing on. That’s a little scary.”
“Excuse me?” the hero asked.
“I can’t always tell if you’re one of the good guys or not,” the villain said. “Just let me be the bad guy to your good guy, okay? That would make it a little easier.”
“Are you asking me to be your nemesis?” the hero asked.
“I guess so. Get some more sleep. Don’t shoot at the good guys. Be a little…nicer?”
“Haven’t I done enough for the city? Haven’t I saved enough people already?” the hero asked. Suddenly, their anger boiled up again but their hands burnt enough to focus on that instead of that giant dark hole in their stomach.
“Isn’t that the thing about heroism? This doesn’t end. And you can’t ask for anything in return.”
“That’s how this works, huh?” The hero’s chuckle was empty. “I thought I’d be feeling more fulfilled.”
“I’m not really an expert when it comes to this but I know from experience that people turn into wild animals when they haven’t had enough sleep or enough food. You’re not thinking clearly.” Their hand landed on the hero’s forearm and slowly, they pulled them towards the bedroom.
“You’re pretty nice for a villain.” The villain took the bandages from the nightstand (the hero usually came in through the window, bandaged their wounds and passed out immediately on bad days) and started wrapping them around the hero’s palms.
“Say that again when I kick your ass on Monday.”
“We have a schedule now? Really?” The hero rolled with their eyes. Somehow, these nasty voices and shadows weren’t as bad as before. They didn’t feel the urge to be violent to get rid of them.
“Yes, I’m your nemesis,” the villain said. “And believe me, I’ll find out what’s going on with you.”
Wasn’t that going to be fun?
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