Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Your sword is long, your lance is keen, your shining helm afar is seen
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Writing Prompt 100
Hero cried, clinging to Supervillain desperately.
“See, darling,” he murmured, brushing their hair almost tenderly. “See what happens when you try to help them?” The sobs only grew, tears soaking through Supervillain’s shirt, not that either cared enough to notice.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I thought-” a hiccup interrupted them, and Supervillain shushed them, leaning their cheek on the other’s head.
“I know, dear. You wanted to help. You’re sweet like that.” They waited for their child’s cries to quiet, pushing them away gently as they wiped remaining tears from their cheek. “Just let me handle this, now. I’ll make everything right, darling. You just stay here and be good.”
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Writing Prompt 101
Supervillain threw the glass with a shriek that echoed through the halls, and Henchman stopped in their tracks outside the door. In their hands was a file, one that while Henchman hadn’t looked through - of course they hadn’t, they’d never be so disobedient - they knew it wouldn’t help their boss’ mood.
Their thoughts stopped when the door slammed open, revealing a disheveled and positively furious looking Supervillain.
“What.”
“I- these came for you.” Henchman said it quickly, holding out the files for the other, who glanced between them and Henchman. They grabbed the papers with a near growl, slamming the door in Henchman’s face. Henchman breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be able to leave before Supervillain’s rage really grew.
As they walked through the halls back to their own assigned space, they heard another crash, and sped up, and didn’t slow down all the way to their assignment.
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the weird thing is, when I view my job as some sort of background extra it becomes much more palatable. people go to a library and see me shelving a stack of books in my cardigan and glasses (now with glasses chain!) and they go "yeah, that's exactly right. that's how it's supposed to be in a library." and for some reason, that's comforting? the work is whatever, and the customers are customers, but sometimes it feels like I'm being paid just to make sure this places looks right, and I find that very fun.
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Always
Villain tried to shut the door, but Henchman was too fast, catching it by its edge before the gap could fully disappear.
“Found you," they said, half threat, half croon. They shoved into the house, knocking Villain back a few steps.
"What are you doing here?" Villain said, catching themself on the coatrack and nearly pulling it down on top of themself.
Henchman reached over Villain's head to steady it and then stayed there. Peeling back the nonchalance plastered over their shame. Taking in their altered form.
"Where have you been?" they countered, soft, knuckle raised gently against Villain's cheek before abruptly dropping again.
"Here. There. What does it matter? You found me." Villain ducked under their arm and hobbled slowly to the couch. Henchman's heavy step traveled in the opposite direction, followed by the click of the door closing, then the steps tramped back toward them. By the time Villain had plopped down on the couch cushion Henchman was kneeling in front of them. For an instant, it was like nothing had changed. Total fealty.
Villain stopped their hand short before they could touch Henchman's head. It felt wrong when they were so utterly weak. There had always been a balance, Henchman so physically intimidating, and Villain thrumming with destructive power. The upper hand, the reason for such devotion, had been crystal clear. Now, Villain could wither and scatter under Henchman's expectations.
"You completely disappeared." Henchman laid their head in Villain's lap anyway. "You were hurt and I got worried. But you didn't answer my calls. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. It's taken me 8 months to track you down. It's like you were trying to avoid me."
Villain sighed, dropping their rigidness and succumbing to the urge to stroke back Henchman's hair. It was just as soft as they remembered, thick and fluffy like an animal pelt. They twirled a piece above their ear, but avoided Henchman's watching eyes as they responded, "I was done for and everyone knew it. It was better to step down and disappear than wait for someone else to assassinate me."
Henchman reached up and took loose hold of Villain's wrist. Why was their gaze so earnest? Didn't they know? Didn't they feel the difference in them? Shouldn't that past awe and adoration be visibally dying at the sight of them?
"I would've protected you," Henchman said.
"I didn't want you to. I have too many enemies. You would have been hurt."
"Then you should've told me. I would've come with you."
"I didn't want that either."
Henchman flinched, and Villain was struck with a stab of guilt. That wasn't entirely true. Of course, Villain had wanted Henchman with them. Of course, it was agony knowing they couldn't even say goodbye. But anything but a clean break would have been worse. They couldn't just ask Henchman to give up their position, goals, and standing for life of nothing. No, more than that, they couldn't bear to see Henchman's devotion grow into disdain. The loss of their powers was the loss of their worth. Henchman would've clung to the threads of their memories but ultimately, Villain would have failed them.
Henchman dropped Villain's wrist but huddled in a little closer. "And...now that I'm here?"
Villain's heart panged. "You should go back."
Henchman hugged tight around Villain's legs, almost like a lifeline. "Why?"
Moment of truth. Time to make this permanent. “I’m not going back.”
“I know.”
“I can’t. I’m ruined. Those heroes took everything when they stripped me and left me for dead."
"I know."
"And even if I wasn’t. I still wouldn’t go back. I was getting tired. Losing focus. That's how they got me in the first place."
“I know.”
Why did they keep saying that? Obviously, they did not know if they could be so casual. This was the rest of their life!
“Henchman, I can’t give you anything anymore. I don't have the influence or power to protect you. I can't bring about a bright new world. I'm spent. A pathetic shell. You should find another person to serve. I'll never be able to give you what you want."
Henchman turned their head up at them. "Why would I want any of that?"
Villain choked. "Don't you?"
"Maybe when I was a kid. Things change over a couple decades." They lifted their head and sank back on their heels. "Your powers were amazing. It's true that they drew me to you. But I never stuck around for that. Or for the status. You're just so..." Henchman broke off, face crinkling as they searched for the word. Finally, they shrugged. "I don't know; it's too big. You spent so long taking care of me. Looking out for me. Giving me chances I didn't think I deserved. Let me do the same for you." Henchman took their hand in both of theirs, hesitantly kissing one knuckle. "Just let me be with you."
Villain flushed a little. They'd always been close. Close enough for feelings. Close enough for both to recognize it in the other. But there had never seemed to be a right time to acknowledge them out loud.
"Do you really not want me here?" Henchman said at Villain's extended silence.
"You'd be ok with a normal life?" Villain pressed. "No powers, no schemes, no money, just me?"
"It's always been just you."
Villain slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Henchman. "Of course, I want you here."
They couldn't keep their voice from cracking in the middle and the next thing they knew they were folded up in Henchman's arms. They melted immediately. All the shame, fear, and frustration seemed to fade right out of them.
"I love you."
Henchman jolted a little, but as they pressed their head to Villain's, Villain saw a smile tugging at their lips. "Good. Then I'll always, always stay."
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