#NOT A PR0MPT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amethystpath-writes · 14 days

Text

To Traitors

NOT A PR0MPT

******

"The general wants to send me to your homeland."

"For war?"

Villain hummed. "We knew it was coming."

"Of course." Hero shook her head and pushed a shirt further into the bucket of water. She bent it and twisted it and shoved it again. "How did she react when you told her 'no'?"

That was the thing; Villain didn't deny the general. No one denied the general.

Hero picked up on the silence. She always did. “Where does that leave us?”

A choice.

War?

Or her?

“You know this decision is not mine.”

"Sure, it is. I always wanted to travel- try camping."

Camping. Hero knew rejecting orders would be considered traitorous. She would rather be homeless and shunned than to standby while her homeland was being attacked.

"Hero..."

"Is that something you are not willing to do?" Her movements became rushed, like she was trying to maintain a calm, but the only way to do so was to move along with the emotions. She grabbed a shirt, dunked it, rung it, tossed it. Grab, dunk, ring. Grab, dunk, ring. They weren't even becoming clean, and the water needed changed. "My family is there. Where are they meant to go?"

"Even if I did tell the general no, I cannot stop an entire army from marching. The war will happen with or without me."

A sigh veiled the tension in the room. Villain's weight creaked beneath him as he stepped towards his lover. He took a linen shirt, wet and soaked, from her hands, and dropped it in the brown water. He found her hands next, then tugged her up slightly. She took the cue and stood, let herself be held.

"I love you," Villain said.

Hero didn't like crying. This is why Villain began rubbing her back as he pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face into his chest and sniffed once, twice...wiped a face full of tears, sniffed again...stopped, then began sobbing. No amount of squeezing could console the thought of her family being innocently slaughtered.

"You would hide them, wouldn't you? If you found them, you would save them?"

His grip loosened. He whispered, “Of course I would.” Did Hero know it might have been a lie? Even Villain wasn't sure what he would do when the time came that he marched onto her homeland.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then I'm leaving now." She attempted to pull away from Villain's chest, but he held her firmly. Her muscles tensed beneath him, but Villain knew she knew better than to try again.

"Hero, be level-headed.

"I want to warn them," she whispered, so quietly that Villain only knew what she said because of how well he knew her. He knew her every thought before she even had it herself. It wasn't magic; just love.

"And you think you will outrun an entire army overnight?"

"I know I won't!" her tone had changed, and this time when she pulled away, she didn't stop until Villain let her go. "But who am I to not try at all? Who would I be, Villain?" Her face was red and swollen, glistening with sad, then angry tears.

For a moment, she stopped. She took a breath. then swallowed as if she needed to stop herself from asking what obviously came to her mind. Alas, she said it. "How long have you known?" Her voice cracked, and Villain could see she already knew the answer: longer than he should have known before telling her.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology." Her eyes refused to meet his. Villain was almost glad for it. He couldn't bear her anger, not when it was directed at him. "I asked how long you have known."

"Hero..."

"Clean your own damn clothes. I'll pay the Baker family back when I return."

"Pay them back? For w-" No. "You're not taking their horse." Hero was already scrounging around, first grabbing a raggedy sack, then stuffing one random item after another in. "Hero, stop. Hero-" She was going to take the neighbor's horse just to get caught up in the war herself. "Stop!"

She fell to her knees in the next moment. Broke down as if his voice took out the last support beam keeping the house together. hero cried, screamed, and wailed. "No. No. No. No. No," she repeated, and her voice broke time and time again as she screamed.

Tears sprung into Villain's eyes. What did he do?

"I'll send a bird. It will arrive before our army does, and when they receive it, they will know to leave."

Hero's head lifted, and her puffy eyes finally met Villain's glistening ones. "I will prepare beds. We have pelts; I can throw something together, and my brother can take-"

One blow after another, each and every passing moment. Just when Villain thought all might be well, the both of them realized there was no saving anyone. The war was an ambush, and Hero's brother would be expected to take a stand, to protect his own homeland.

"I won't-" Villain swallowed. "I won't harm your family. I will send the bird, and I will pray with every moment of travel that they receive it and leave. I will not draw my sword until I find their home empty, until I am sure they have left."

"You would be a traitor to your own kingdom."

"Better it this kingdom than you."

#not a pr0mpt #hero x villain #hero #villain #hero x villain story #hero x villain drabble #hero x villain snippet #heroes and villains #writeblr #writing community #creative writing #angst #I think. Does Dee know what angst is yet? No. Absolutely not.#I worked on a project for three hours straight and seeing as it is already midnight I figured I might as well finish #the draft I started months upon months ago.#Oh yeah- did y'all know I decided to start rewriting my entire manuscript...again..?#hence the delay in writing. I'm working on my book- working full time- doing school part time...it's a lot. barely any leisure time 😭#anyway this is due for a reblog in the morning :p #weak ending but I have procrastinated posting for wayyyy too long- open to continuing this one if it's enjoyed enough :p #To Traitors

54 notes · View notes

livelaughwhump · 11 months

Note

Hii!

Could you write something about Whumpee having a nightmare and shaking, mumbling and kicking in their sleep. But. Caretaker is an empath and they send out waves of calm emotions, feelings of love, care and peace, until Whumpee has fallen into a deep peaceful sleep a faint smile on their face.

Thank youu

Hi!! Thanks for the request!! Sorry this took so long. I haven't written a general whump fic in a while, so please bear with me!

I hope you enjoy!

Content: nightmare, insomnia mention, brief mention of past captivity, implied past torture, mostly comfort

Whumpee hadn't slept in weeks. Caretaker had tried everything, from calming tea to white noise, but nothing had worked. They'd even suggested a sleep clinic, but Whumpee had nearly had a panic attack at the very mention. At this point, they didn't know what else to do. Whumpee was clearly exhausted, so Caretaker tried the last thing they could think of.

Whumpee sniffled as Caretaker climbed into their bed with them, wiping away their tears and offering Caretaker more space than was necessary.

"I-I'm so sorry, Caretaker," they mumbled as Caretaker settled beside them in bed. "You shouldn't have to do this for me. I know you don't like sleeping around other people-"

Caretaker gently shushed them and brushed away their tears. "Don't be sorry, dove. I'll sleep better knowing that you're not alone. I offered to do this for you, remember?"

Whumpee sniffled again and nodded. "But I don't want you to sacrifice your comfort for my sake. You already do so much for me."

Caretaker smiled and brushed Whumpee's hair out of their face. "Now's not the time for guilt, dove. All you need to worry about is sleep."

Whumpee's eyes wandered. "But...what if I can't?"

"Then, I'll be right beside you. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Whumpee's lower lip was wobbling. "But, what if-"

Caretaker shushed them again, wrapping their arms around their frightened companion. "There's nothing to be worried about, dove. Just relax and close your eyes. I'll watch over you."

. . .

Caretaker was beyond relieved when they heard the evening out of Whumpee's breath. They couldn't remember the last time Whumpee had slept through the night, and they prayed to whatever god was listening that Whumpee would make it even half that.

It had only taken a little over an hour, which wasn't as long as Caretaker had expected. They were so proud of Whumpee. They had been put through hell by a despicable human being. It was no wonder they couldn't sleep. They were probably terrified of being plucked from their bed and taken right back to that awful place without so much as a cry for help.

Caretaker snuggled closer to Whumpee, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of their head. With their incredible relief came overwhelming exhaustion, and Caretaker's eyelids fluttered. Their body sagged against Whumpee's, and with a soft breath that ruffled Whumpee's tangled hair, Caretaker closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.

. . .

Caretaker awoke a few hours later to the sound of soft whimpering. At first, they assumed it was their dog begging for attention, until they heard spoken words.

"N-No, Wh-Whumper, p-please."

Caretaker's eyes snapped open. They quickly pushed themself into a sitting position and flicked on the lamp to their right. Their eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the person Whumpee was begging to. As their eyes adjusted to the sudden light, they recognized the emptiness of Whumpee's room.

"Please, no. I-I don't want it, please..."

Caretaker shifted their gaze down to Whumpee's small, quivering form. Their light curls stuck to their sweat-slick forehead and tears were oozing out of the corners of their tightly-clamped eyes. A quiet yelp escaped their throat, followed by more soft begging.

Caretaker absolutely deflated. They knew all about how awful Whumpee's nightmares could be. Whumpee told them about each one in detail, and they were all worse than the one before.

Caretaker hated seeing them like this. It broke their heart to see the brilliant, joyful, funny person they once knew reduced to something so pitiful and broken.

Caretaker forced a sad smile to their face. They'd always been told that they had a gift for making people feel safe, without even saying a word. They just hoped they'd be able to reach Whumpee through the horrors they were surely reliving.

Caretaker gently ran their hand through Whumpee's hair, softly caressing their tear-stained cheeks. They wanted Whumpee to know that they were safe, that Caretaker was never going to let anything bad happen to them again. They wanted Whumpee to feel loved and accepted and heard, despite the pain and the loss they'd experienced.

Sure enough, Whumpee's trembling seemed to slow, their whimpers quieted, and the wrinkles on their face smoothed out. Their tense body relaxed and they shivered beneath Caretaker's cool touch. Even once they'd calmed down a bit, Caretaker didn't stop caressing Whumpee and wiping away their tears and sweat.

As much as they knew Whumpee would feel guilty for it, Caretaker was beyond grateful that Whumpee had woken them up. They much preferred that to Whumpee waking themself up. If they were given the option, Caretaker would never sleep again if it meant Whumpee never had another nightmare. They didn't deserve to live in such fear and turmoil, and Caretaker vowed that they would do whatever it took to take that pain away from them.

Even if it meant hunting Whumper down themself.

I hope this was okay!! I'm not used to writing regular whump fics, so I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's a little shorter than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it!

If anyone else has any requests, suggestions, or questions for me or my characters, please feel free to send them to me!

#ask #request #fic request #whump fic request #whump fic #whump #whumpee #whump blog #whump writing #writing #caretaker #tw nightmares #whump community #whumpblr #whump comfort #not a pr0mpt #not Worthless content #livelaughwhump

121 notes · View notes

inkygemuwu · 2 years

Text

“W–we're alone.” the hero nervously stated, a bit of sweat dripping down their forehead.

“Correct~.” the villain purred, crowding them against the wall. “No pesky media to interrupt us in sight~.”

— Prompt written by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you.

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

“W–we're alone.” the hero nervously stated, a bit of sweat dripping down their forehead.

“Correct.” the villain purred, crowding them against the wall. “No pesky media to interrupt us in sight.”

The hero swallowed hard. They felt stupid for letting themself get caught again by the villain.

The villain grinned, all teeth, and pinned the hero to the wall, hands mercilessly on either side of their head, allowing no way to escape their grasp now.

The hero’s face reddened, still speechless.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?” the villain tilted their head in a way that made the hero’s heart slam in their chest.

“Wh–what do you want?” it was barely above a whisper.

The villain ignored them, their luscious gaze flicked to the hero’s lips, and then back up to their eyes, drinking up the sight in front of them.

“You look beautiful like this, cornered and confused and so easily flustered. Makes me wonder what you’d look like if I just..” the villain leaned closer, their breath brushing hot against the hero’s ear.

The hero’s face coloured further, an unsavoury feeling blooming in their stomach. “Get away from me.” they hated the crack in their voice.

“But your little reactions are just so adorable, darling.” the villain murmured, voice honeyed and thick.

“Let—” the hero’s voice cut to gasp as the villain started trailing kisses down their neck. They bit their lip, resisting the moan rising in their throat.

“S–stop..” the hero managed, begging, “You can’t just.. just kiss me–.. like that.”

They felt cold as the villain suddenly let go of them, feeling strangely empty, like a part of them was missing.

“Well, that was fun. See you next time.” the villain said and was about to turn around to leave when the hero, unable to suppress their instincts, clutched their shirt and yanked them back, pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Not a prompt.

#not a pr0mpt #inspired/ based on a prompt #hero x villain #villain x hero #flirty villain #flustered hero #flirtation #flirting #kiss #writing #my writing #original writing #ficlet #prompt fill #prompt continuation

438 notes · View notes

arcadian-asgardian · 29 days

Text

Ineffable husbands titbits 5/?

(except it's just Aziraphale this time)

_______

“Have you ever been to Heaven?”

It wasn’t a question Aziraphale had been expecting from this young person who’d come into the bookshop to shelter from the rain. They’d made a bit of polite conversation earlier, and Aziraphale had felt a little as though they had been scrutinising him with curious glances while they had sat at one of the sofas, flicking through their mobile phone and a few vibrant fliers they had entered with.

They seemed to float the question hesitantly, as if not completely sure, yet somehow reassured that Aziraphale was a good person to be asking. He wasn’t sure what might have led them to suspect that he was an angel, but he saw no harm in endeavouring to answer them truthfully.

Had he ever been to Heaven?

“Oh, yes. Many times,” he replied.

“Oh! What’s it like?” the young person asked him eagerly.

Aziraphale paused, before answering tactfully. “It’s… nice, if you like that sort of thing. Very clean. Lots of space.”

“Sounds good,” they nodded, though their enthusiasm seemed somewhat dulled by his answer. “But you don’t really like it then?” they probed.

“Not overly much,” Aziraphale admitted. “I’m afraid I don’t terribly fit in there. The others of my kind don’t seem to like me very much. And all the light tends to give me a headache.”

The young person winced in sympathy. “Ah, I’m sorry. That sucks,” they said. “You’d think they’d make everyone feel welcome somewhere like that.”

Aziraphale hummed a glum agreement. There was an awkward silence as both parties felt the thread of conversation grow thin.

“Is the music at least good?” they piped up at last.

“The music?” Thoughts of celestial harmonies and Climbing Every Mountain entered Aziraphale’s mind, and he tried not to look visibly disgusted.

“That’s not really to my taste either, I’m afraid.”

“Fair enough,” the young person shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s not the only gay nightclub,” they finished with a sigh.

Aziraphale blinked. “Sorry, gay nightclub?”

#til there's a famous gay nightclub in london called heaven #my fic #my titbits #not a pr0mpt #good omens #aziraphale

2 notes · View notes

world-of-fire-and-flight · 2 years

Text

Love Letters: Part 6

A/N: FINALLY (that’s all I’ll say)

Warnings: Betrayal, violence/physical violence/depictions of fighting/depictions of violence, loss of consciousness/being rendered unconscious, kidnapping

Hero’s eyes swept over the darkened alleyway. Supervillain should be here, so where were they? The growing pit inside of their stomach caved in on itself. Whenever their nerves did that, Hero knew nothing good was coming their way. They’d have to check their intuition and make sure it wasn’t just their anxiety taking hold of their clarity.

If Supervillain had the Ancient Sword, why wouldn’t they have used it by now? The artifacts had gone missing eleven days ago. Surely eleven days was plenty of time for them to do whatever it was they’d planned to wield the sword for. If the legends were true and it made whoever wielded it nearly invincible as well as inhumanly strong, then why hadn’t they used it by now?

Hero was certain Other Supervillain was their target. They also knew that Other Supervillain was many things, but they were human…or at least Hero assumed they were human. Either way, Hero knew they weren’t indestructible. Telekinetic, maybe, but invulnerable?

They could be killed.

Hero had seen Politician bleed after a close call due to an assassination attempt. So why hadn’t Supervillain killed them and taken their status yet? What were they waiting for?

Or…was it possible that Other Supervillain wasn’t their target?

“Hello, dear Hero,” Supervillain drawled as they rounded the corner and caught sight of them standing in the alley. “Punctual as always.”

“Have you come to give me information about the artifacts or not?” Hero snapped. If their irritation could manifest a body of its own, it would certainly be a snarling beast with its hackles raised.

Supervillain tsked them, wagging their finger patronizingly. “In due time, Hero.”

Hero fought the urge to roll their eyes. Their fraying patience didn’t extend to the firm press of their pursed lips. Superhero reminded them to keep their head over the communication device in their ear. Instinctually, Hero’s eyes surveyed the shadows, looking for henchmen or something hiding, waiting for Supervillain’s command. Their heartbeat slowed but remained steady.

Something was horribly wrong. And their body knew it with every fiber of their being.

“Then why did you want to meet with me?” Hero asked. “Just wanted to waste my time?”

Supervillain took an interest in the rubble piled and strewn throughout the narrow dead-end. They took a step closer. And then another slow, deliberate step. Hero swallowed, watching the predator cage in their prey.

“A little birdy told me you’ve just about solved the case of the missing artifacts,” Supervillain started pointedly. Hero said nothing. Supervillain studied them through narrowed eyes for a fraction of a second. Then, as if remembering themselves, their face eased and their features drew a curious expression. “So, have you?”

Hero cracked a wide smile that didn’t reach their eyes. Every nerve in their body told them they should be expecting something, but what?

At least Superhero had their back.

“That’s classified, as you well know, friend.” Hero took a step toward the main street—toward the master criminal blocking their path—and made ready to fight for their life. “Well, if this was only a social call, then I’m afraid I’ll have to be going now.”

Supervillain stepped in front of them. Hero met their hard stare with a glare.

“Oh, come on,” Supervillain bared their teeth in a dangerous grin. “What’s a little information shared amongst friends? I’m dying to know who took the artifacts.”

“Isn’t obvious?” Hero said, shrugging their shoulders. “Other Supervillain. Who else is strong enough to use the Ancient Sword?”

Before they could drink in the tightening of Supervillain’s jaw or their bristling pride, a different voice cut into their conversation.

“See,” Superhero’s voice echoed behind them, followed by a thud. “That’s not what you told me before.”

The hairs on the back of Hero’s neck stood on end. Whatever nerves hadn’t shriveled up and died in the anxious pit of their stomach coiled up, waiting to spring.

They’d anticipated betrayal at the hands of Supervillain. They’d anticipated much worse at the hands of Other Supervillain/Politician if they ever crossed paths again on the streets. They’d even expected betrayal from other heroes and vigilantes that had never come to pass in their time of occasionally working with them.

But Superhero?

Never in a million years would they have expected the higher-ranking hero to cross them, let alone join ranks with Supervillain.

Their mentor’s words from two nights ago rang in their memory. It wouldn’t be the first time a hero fell for a villain.

Hero turned their head just enough to see Superhero out of the corner of their eye, but made sure they could still see the master criminal standing too closely beside them.

“I guess we won’t be needing these then,” Hero said carefully as their hand reached for their earpiece and removed it from their ear canal. “I can’t stand the echo.”

Before either villain could react, Hero threw the comms unit down and smashed it underfoot. With any luck, the lost signal would alert the Agency and someone—anyone—would come to their rescue.

“I really wished you hadn’t done that, Hero,” someone said, but Hero didn’t register who, already anticipating their next several moves.

Hindsight, it’s said, is twenty-twenty, but it had its limitations too. While Hero could accurately predict a given chain of events thanks to their gift of sight, it didn’t do them any good against two adversaries. It wasn’t a combative power; it wasn’t a defensive power, not really—but it was better than nothing they supposed. It bought them precious seconds on more than one occasion, and they couldn’t be more grateful for their power than in moments such as this.

Hero blocked Supervillain’s jabbing elbow and delivered a blow to their throat, whirling away from the criminal. They left them, doubled over on their knees with bulging, watery eyes and clutching at their throat.

Superhero was quick to launch themselves at Hero, but Hero was already throwing themselves to the side, forcing themselves to scale the wall, zigzagging with each powerful leap of faith between the two buildings that made up the walls of the alley until they reached the side of a fire escape.

Huffing, Hero hauled themselves over the side and landed on the escape’s stairwell. Glancing below them, they called, “What’s the matter? Can’t keep up?”

Superhero stared up at them. “I wouldn’t celebrate too soon, Hero.”

Hero’s eyebrows furrowed as their old mentor’s words settled in their mind. The fire escape groaned. Hero gasped, whirling to face this new threat, but before they could a do single thing, their mind went blank.

Part 7

Taglist: @selene-stories

46 notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 8 months

Note

A hero and villain prompt (not romantic) with the concept built around the sentence “you never learn, do you?” In my head the villain says it to the hero, but I don’t particularly care either way. Thanks if you can, thanks if you can’t!

"You never learn, do you?"

The hero's breathing came hard, their wavering vision fixed on a spot on the horizon. "'Fraid not."

"Mm." The villain's fingers combed through the hero's hair, far too tender for the fury radiating from them. "Perhaps you simply enjoy these lessons."

"Perhaps the lesson is not one worth learning. "

They had been friends once.

The villain snorted. Their grip tightened, wrenching the hero's head back, their body off the floor. The hero’s forcefield spluttered, once, twice, before guttering out completely. Pain twinged up the hero's scalp. They closed their eyes.

"Look at me."

"No thanks," they kept their voice light. "I feel sick enough already."

But they both knew it wasn't just that.

"You've exhausted your reserves," the villain said. "Again."

"Like you care."

"You could escape for good if you stopped doing that. If you stopped coming out of hiding any time the city is threatened."

"Like. You. Care."

But of course the villain cared. And of course that changed nothing.

"I have to bring you back," the villain said. "Open your eyes. You don't need to make this more painful."

"You don't have to do anything. "

"Neither do you. This could be someone else's fight."

"I'll just escape again. I always do."

"Will you? Because the company is learning, even if you're not."

The hero swallowed.

The villain tugged at their head.

The hero's jaw clenched.

The villain clicked their tongue, frustrated. Inevitably, their other hand rose, wrapping around the hero's throat, cradling their spent and battered body against the villain’s hips. Power seeped from the villain's palm. It burrowed through skin and sinew where the eyes gave away to influence so easily.

The telepathic lessons were always the same.

Don't run. Don't resist. Do as you're told.

"Ridiculous, " the villain murmured, as the hero's eyes fell open, with no barriers or protection left in place to shield them. "Making me chase after my own bodyguard. I can't keep pleading to the board for you."

"Yes. Well," the hero rasped. "You never learn, do you?"

Eighteen months later, the cycle repeated again.

#villains and heroes #villain #hero #whump #idk idk #writing #ficlets #so weird writing on my phone #feels different #this is not a writing pr0mpt

418 notes · View notes

chamoemileclown · 3 months

Note

I would like to suggest rat Spreen or rat Vegetta

im always grateful when i get the opportunity to do stuff revolving around the less active members!!

#these are the last of the rats!!#they're v cute thanks for the pr0mpt #qsmp #qsmp fanart #qsmp art #qsmp vegetta #vegetta777 #vegettagaymer #qsmp spreen #spreen

86 notes · View notes

mirohtron · 2 years

Text

"You don't understand," the villain hissed. "Loving me will ruin you, you stupid thing. Maybe you want that, maybe you want to be ruined and left unstable and hurt, but you don't seem to realise the extent. I will take all the light you can give me and let you burn to ash, even though I can see it'll kill you. I will not blow you out. I'll take it, selfishly, and I'll exhaust you until you hate me. I—"

The hero trapped them against a wall and kissed them, and kissed them more, and then some more until the villain was pushing against them dizzily and the lack of air crumpled their lungs up.

Then, the hero let go.

The villain slumped against the wall, staring, reeling, gasping in precious air.

"I don't care," said the hero. Just as breathless. "I don't care, I really don't. You think we're bad for each other? Then let's just exhaust each other until the novelty wears off. Until then," the hero kissed them again, harder, shorter, and the villain couldn't suppress their noises, "I'll just take what I can get."

The villain didn't have a response to that.

The hero kissed them again.

598 notes · View notes

ziptiesnfries · 8 months

Text

y'all have no idea how many whump concepts i've come up with that just never made it on my blog

i had one a little while ago where a bunch of human-animal hybrids (particularly hybrids of commonly hunted animals) are kidnapped and hunted for sport by rich humans. of course, the prey aren't killed during every hunt - it would be too much of a hassle to replace them that often. but you never know when an accident might happen!

the main character is a fox girl who's aggressive but helpless to do anything about her situation. she's friends with a deer girl who's a lot more timid and resigned to her eventual fate. the two of them weren't really friends at first, but they grew on each other.

#i never wrote any of this but i've been thinking about it lately #also just in case: if you get inspo from this please ask me before taking the idea!#this is not a pr0mpt this is just me idea-spitting #but like i'm happy to elaborate #i just didn't have a whole lot of specific ideas for this one #ziptalks #hunted for sport #death tw #ask to tag

12 notes · View notes

creweemmaeec11 · 1 year

Text

Skimming off the top

"Relax, I'm not about to chop your head off," the villain mused, rounding their desk to instead lean back against it. They eyed the henchmen in the chair before them, "But I know you've been skimming money off the top. Don't dig yourself a deeper hole by denying it. Just tell me why,"

Despite the villain's calm demeanour and even reassurance, henchman was undoubtedly shaking. He knew this had been a bad idea. He was about to pay for it.

"I... I needed the money-"

"For *what*?" The villain pressed.

"My... my wife she-"

"Diana? Is she alright?"

Henchman was shocked his boss even remembered her name, but he forced himself to press on, "no, or- yes- well, kind of? She uh, she's pregnant,"

"That's amazing news," the villain replied. They sounded genuinely happy, "Are you worried about not having enough to properly start a family? You could have spoken to me about a raise,"

"No no! It's, well, there have been some complications in her pregnancy. The pressure ruptured her appendix-"

"My god, is she okay!?" Villain gasped in horror.

"Yes! Yes she and the baby are fine, but the surgery was expensive so I'd been skimming to try and pay it off,"

Villain sighed, "why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" They asked. They seemed genuinely confused.

"I- what?" Henchman stammered.

The villain rounded the desk again, sitting back down on their chair, "how much more do you need to pay it off? My calculations tell me you've skimmed about $2000 already, correct?"

"I- yes, sir. I still need $6000," he replied. What was happening here?

Suddenly villain pulled out a chequebook, "Don't get me wrong, you're still in trouble for skimming behind my back. I'm no tyrant, if you need money desperately like this, just come to me next time. We are grown-ups; we can work something out. For now, we can take it off your paychecks until it's been repaid, once this has been settled," villain explained, before standing back up and handing over a check signed for $6000. "Let me know if you need any more, okay?"

Henchman was stunned, "I- I- yes- yes sir- I- thank you-"

"You're welcome," the villain nodded, "That being said. I don't want to see you skimming again. Got it?"

"Absolutely sir, it will never happen again,"

"Good," Villain nodded, sitting back down into their large office chair, "now go home,"

The henchman's eyes widened, "but I thought I wasn't getting fired!"

"You're not," villain smiled, "but your pregnant wife just had surgery. You're on mandatory leave until her doctor clears her health, got it?"

The worker's eyes widened even more, "I- yes, yes sir. Thank you so much,"

The villain nodded, looking down at their desk again, scribbling something else on a different paper. After a moment, they glanced up to see the henchman hadn't moved. They raised an eyebrow as if to say "why are you still here?"

It was because the worker felt like he couldn't leave. He had expected such punishment, but this was...

He forced his legs to stand and walked out, heading straight home. His wife would be thrilled.

2K notes · View notes

amethystpath-writes · 4 months

Note

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, the power-dampeners fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t wanna write this tho!!!

A/N...You know how I made that post like a month ago? About followers and how much they mean to me? And about how I recognize some of them as being frequents or long-time followers? I recognize you. I remember you. And I appreciate you.

As a secondary note, the cutoff is spicy, but it’s PG. Unless we’re looking for non-PG. Lord knows I’ve written terrible things here.

NOT A PR0MPT

******

It was the greatest pain he’d felt. Guard looked up at him with such fear that Villain felt himself quaking in his own shoes.

Empathy. What a horrible emotion.

He could have been like the others, tearing at the walls, ripping the floor up, cutting people down. But Guard…

Guard, who had brought him, not only his food, but dessert hidden in a folded napkin.

Guard, who had changed the bulb when it burnt out though no other guard would. And not just any bulb. Guard knew how Villain hated those damn LEDs.

‘I could never sleep like that. Why should you?’

Guard, who listened.

Guard, who understood.

When Villain looked at Guard, at the fright, the confusion...he couldn't be like the others, even as some other criminal shoved a broken pipe in his hands. Distantly, he saw the criminal nodding at guard, and heard them mumble, "For that one."

That one.

That one had a name. That one was kind and- and considerate, and everything these escapees were not. He was thoughtful, and he was everything Villain didn't deserve.

A monster. I'm a monster.

As Guard's eyes quickly shifted between the pipe in Villain's hands and his eyes, Villain felt a pang of both sadness and anger. The sadness struck his heart, something so deeply buried beneath his powers, he forgot it even existed. His anger, however, centered in his hands, hot against the broken pipe. Instinct screamed to join the chaos- the power he possessed, it had to be rid of somehow. It was the reason he was ever locked up.

"I'm not- I wouldn't-"

The pipe clattered against the hard floor. It had no room to echo, the thrill of the room silencing it- thankfully to Villain. It would have drawn attention to him. They would see his empty hands, see the pipe, then see Guard- unharmed. They would kill him, brutally, and then they would kill Villain.

"Where do I go?" Guard's voice was booming despite the noise around. A bang! here, a crash! there. Villain's head was pounding, but he heard Guard's voice like an angel sent from above. A scared angel, a delicate thing, all bright eyes and parted lips.

"Here, and keep your head down." Guard held his hand out, and swiftly, as he took Guard's hand, he also grabbed his sleeve, then tore it without a moment's notice. "You ever do roleplay?" Villain pulled Guard up to his feet.

Guard's eyes widened and he shook his head without a word. Villain didn't quite believe that, but he nodded anyway.

"You and I are going to switch roles right now, okay?"

Predictably, Guard's face went still. Act as a prisoner? Villain was sure he was thinking it. Guard would never so much as think he was above being a prisoner (of course, Guard never deserved to be as such), but it was frightening. Villain knew- or at least hoped- that Guard trusted him not to take advantage of the situation. If he thought differently of Villain, he would have never acted so kind.

"What happens if-"

"Don't worry. Look." Villain gestured with a nod, not only to the chaos down the hallway, but to the other villains. While some were destroying everything in sight, others were taking victims by the arm, by their hair, by anything they could grab onto. It wouldn't be unusual for Villain to walk Guard out of the prison, to take a hostage.

Villain's history, the reason he was imprisoned at all remained a mystery to everyone. Some were very open about their reasons; they relished in being villains. I'll be your bad guy, was the motto they seemed to live by. Villain kept to himself. While some believed it was a weakness, others believed Villain's nonchalant attitude meant he should be avoided.

"If there's police outside?" Guard said under his breath as they began walking.

"Then you'll be safe."

"And you'll be arrested."

"I was in prison before. Why shouldn't I go back?"

Villain was shocked. Guard ripped his arm from his grasp and stopped, dead in the middle of the hall.

"You don't deserve that, and you know it."

He gritted his teeth. No, prison wasn't what he deserved, but-

"What happened to you," Guard began, "is so far from your fault. I'm glad this is happening; I've wanted a revolt like this because it means you'll be free!"

"Keep your voice down; you're drawing attention."

"Then I'll draw attention, Villain!"

Now, his teeth were grinding. "You are going to get yourself killed if they hear you."

"I don't care," Guard argued. "I don't care if I die, or if I'm even tortured. I care about you."

Villain didn't think. His hand felt like an extension of him, one that acted on its own. He was holding onto Guard's collar, his face inches away from the one who had taken such great care of him. A fire was burning his hand. Villain let go, then released a breath. "I'm scared," he admitted. "That's why I haven't broken out."

"Scared? Villain, no one can hurt you out there."

"That," he asserted. "That is exactly why I'm scared. Guard, I can't control myself, and honestly, this?" He tapped his chest, where, under his shirt, there was a rectangle plastered-no burnt- into his skin. "I came here for this. They don't just hand these out on the streets. You have to do something wrong to get one, to have a shot at being normal, to be someone like you."

His hands were burning. Again. He was tired of this rage, that sunken feeling of despair. Red and flame. A gas stove left running overnight. He would blow the house up.

Fire.

Red.

Rage.

Ablaze.

"Villain, no!"

Buzzing.

Villain could hear buzzing. No, that wasn't the word. Something was squealing, high pitch in his ears.

Screaming.

Nagging.

What was that sound?

"Are you okay?" The words were on repeat. Broken record. God, Villain couldn't think. Were these words his own or did they belong to someone else?

“Hey. Hey, listen to me.”

“Burns,” Villain knew this was his voice; he felt it in his chest- a deep groan that, if he were anyone but himself, would have pierced his heart. So much pain. “My hands. My hands burn.”

Fire ran down his cheeks in the shape of tears. What had he done?

What had he done?

“The others-” he started, but Guard- Guard! Without a second’s notice, Villain sat straight up, all signs of pain vacant as he turned. His head, Villain realized, had been in Guard’s lap.

“They’re okay,” Guard said, stiffening now as Villain sat up. “No causalities, but we can’t go back.”

When Villain squinted, Guard explained, “They’re searching for you, as well as all the other prisoners. We’re safe, but we can’t leave. At least, you can’t. Shouldn’t. I would never tell you what to do.”

Of course not. Guard was kind and delicate and- “How did you make it out? I- you were- that should have killed you.”

If there was one thing Villain wasn’t expecting, it was this: “You’re not the only Super I’ve been kind to. One of the others saw what was about to happen. They saved me.”

Guard was nothing if not honest, and though Villain was truly a good person, he wouldn’t know a lie if he’d never told one himself. Right now, Guard was hiding something.

#not a pr0mpt #request fill #villain x guard #guard x villain #and the other tags that don't quite fit but are within the same world-#hero x villain #hero x villain snippet #hero x villain story #hero x villain drabble #mlm #that means male and male right?? i'm not using a dirty tag right??#heroes and villains #hero #villain #anyway #Hi!#long time no see

82 notes · View notes

livelaughwhump · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Fic #2

Concept: a whumpee who has only known whump their entire life is rescued and treated with kindness for the first time, but whumpee doesn't understand the concept of kindness that doesn't need to be earned.

. . .

Whumpee shrank back into the farthest corner of their cage, whimpering and hiding their face from their new visitor.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," a gentle voice said. "You don't need to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you."

Whumpee glanced up, eyes gleaming with tears. "You're-You're not?" They choked out. Their voice was hoarse from lack of use. Their visitor smiled and shook their head. "Why-Why not? What do you want from-from me?"

"Nothing," their visitor promised. "I just want to help you. My name is Caretaker." Their visitor reached a gentle hand toward whumpee, who yelped and whined as they shrank into a pitiful ball once again. Caretaker retracted their hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but I promise, I'm only here to help. I'm going to get you home."

Whumpee glanced up again, this time their eyes held more than just tears. Their expression was pained and full of grief and despair. There was a sense of hopelessness in their eyes that made Caretaker's stomach drop.

"But I-I am home," Whumpee mumbled.

Caretaker shook their head. "I know Whumper probably told you that, but this isn't your home. I'm sure your family misses you. Don't you want to see them again?"

Whumpee's lower lip quivered as they gently shook their head. "No, you-you don't understand. Whumper-Whumper is my family. They're-They're my parent." Caretaker's eyes widened and their jaw dropped. Whumpee whimpered and hid their face once more, thinking they upset caretaker.

Caretaker promptly fixed their expression. "No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please, let me help you."

Whumpee shook their head and cried. "No," they sobbed. "I can't leave, whumper will get angry and hurt me again. Just leave me alone. This is where I belong."

"No, you don't belong in a cage. If you come with me, I can promise you that you will never spend another second locked inside of a cage. Whumper will never hurt you again, I promise." Whumpee stared at their rescuer, the smallest hint of hope sparkling in their eyes for the first time. "Please, let me help you." Caretaker extended their hand to whumpee, who merely stared at it in contemplation before laying a shaking hand atop caretaker's and allowing them to pull whumpee out of their cage.

Whumpee didn't speak the entire car ride back to caretaker's house, nor did they say a word once they entered. They didn't know what kind of punishments caretaker would give them if they did something wrong, so they simply opted to do nothing instead.

They still refused to speak until caretaker was in the middle of giving them a bath.

Whumpee stared wordlessly at the murky water they were halfway submerged in as caretaker mercilessly scrubbed at the dirt and blood caked on their skin and matted in their hair.

"Am I scrubbing too hard?" Caretaker asked for possibly the fifth time since they started. Whumpee didn't respond, too fixated on their newly clean skin to hear caretaker's question. "Whumpee?"

Whumpee blinked and turned to look over their shoulder at caretaker. "Hm?"

Caretaker's brows furrowed. "Are you okay? What's on your mind?" Whumpee shrugged and returned to staring silently at nothing. "Are you uncomfortable? Have I done something wrong?"

"No," Whumpee's soft voice answered. "That's-That's the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"You-You're being so nice to me, and-and I don't understand why. I haven't-I haven't done anything to deserve your kindness, so-so I'm just waiting for you to get angry and hit me or-or tell me what you want me to do for you so I can make up for-for being such a burden." Whumpee hunched their shoulders, shivering in their cold bathwater. "I know I'm not worth any of this. Just tell me want you want from me, please. I promise, I'll behave."

Caretaker stared at them in shock, their breath hitching as Whumpee's words set in. Whumpee turned to face them after caretaker didn't respond and their eyes widened when they saw caretaker's face.

Tears flooded whumpee's eyes and they wrapped their arms protectively around themself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I can be good, I promise. Please, don't hit me."

Caretaker shook their head. "No, no, sweetheart, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Look at me." Whumpee didn't dare disobey. They stared at caretaker through the distorted lens of their tears, sniffling all the while. "Whumpee, I don't expect anything from you. I'm doing this because you deserve to be clean and fed and warm. You deserve a room and a bed, not a basement and a cage." Whumpee's gaze wavered. "Comfort and warmth should not be a privilege, whumpee. You deserve good things."

Whumpee looked away and shook their head. "How can I deserve good things? I haven't done anything to earn them."

"You don't need to earn them," Caretaker assured. They released a heavy sigh. "I don't know what whumper taught you, but you are not a bad person."

"You don't know that," whumpee sobbed. "You don't know me. Whumper always said that if I'm not useful, I'm worthless."

"Well, whumper isn't here anymore." Whumpee was silent at that. "And I promise, I will never make you feel worthless."

Whumpee sniffled. "P-Promise?"

Caretaker nodded. "Yes, I promise. I will do everything that I can to help you understand that you deserve kindness, whumpee. I will never treat you like they did."

Whumpee's lower lip was trembling, and they refused to look at caretaker in fear of bursting into tears. "No one-No one's ever been this nice to me before."

Caretaker could feel their heart break as they took in those words.

"Thank-Thank you," whumpee said. "I promise, I'll try to be worthy of your kindness."

Caretaker gave a weak smile. "We'll work on that."

140 notes · View notes

inkygemuwu · 2 years

Text

Hero: “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Villain: “Why, are you seducible?”

— Prompt written by @amberss.

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Why, are you seducible?” the villain smirked.

The hero’s face flashed, flustered, at the villain’s response. They didn’t expect them to answer in such a way. At least not like that.

This wasn’t the first time the villain tried to seduce them. They’d tried it before, several times, and yet it never ceased.

The little compliments and the eandearing nicknames were the start of it all. It was just flirting at the beginning, but then graduated to something bigger, this.

The villain advanced closer, and the hero instinctively took a few steps back, alarmed, heart hammering.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the villain mused, and raised a sensuous brow.

All of a sudden the hero’s mouth felt dry, unable to speak. They took another step back, just for the villain to mimick the gesture.

The both of them kept on, until the hero’s back hit the wall.

The villain stood in front of them, tall and beautiful and generally deadly. They rested both hands on either side of the hero’s head, blocking them any possible paths of escape.

The sight before the hero’s eyes was dazzling, like looking at the sun. Too big, too bright.

“You look lovely, blushing like that.” the villain purred, cupping the hero’s burning cheek oh so gently. “It makes me wonder, really, how exquisite you’d look like as a disheveled and hot mess on my bed.” their eyes became half-lidded, dark and rich with a glint of pure admiration.

The hero flinched at the caress of the villain’s smooth hand. Soft, yet hypnotising. A deeper shade of red crept upon their features.

The villain never failed to make the hero’s stomach pool with heat.

“You wouldn’t even get the chance.” the hero choked, breath hitching.

Their stomach lurked again with the same sting of hots when they heard the villain’s amused giggle. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure, dear.” the villain crooned, gaze voluptuous. “I don’t need to take you by force. I can make you give yourself to me.”

“Persuasive are we?”

“Perhaps.” the villain said, “Perhaps not. It’s your choice. You’re responsible for your own actions anyway.”

The hero glared at them, at their audacity. How could they say something like that while they were clearly messing with the hero’s mind?

“You’re the one who’s enticing me!”

“And you like it,” the villain replied, tilting their head attractively, “don’t you, darling?”

The hero snarled, but they did like it, and they hated themselves for that. They hated themselves for being so predictable and unable to even pretend they weren’t affected by the villain’s temptation skills.

The hero suddenly gasped at the villain’s hand snaking up their arm and to their hair, gingerly stroking it. “Touchy touchy.” they chuckled, charmingly so.

“S–stop. God damn it– stop!” the hero rasped.

“Now now, little hero, don’t be so rude. Aggression doesn’t suit you.”

The hero tried to snarl, to show as much ferocity they could master, but it only made the villain laugh.

They felt small, ridiculous, ashamed. As if they were nothing but a small toy to play with and discard when not needed anymore. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. The villain wasn’t fair.

The villain let out a yelp of pain at the harsh kick they received to their stomach.

The hero fled. They decided that they’d make sure to be prepared next time they meet the villain.

Not a prompt.

#not a pr0mpt #inspired/ based on a pr0mpt #hero x villain #villain x hero #seduction #flirtation #flirting #seductive villain #flirty villain #seducible hero #flustered hero #kiss #suggestive #writing #my writing #original writing #ficlet #prompt fill #prompt continuation

159 notes · View notes

arcadian-asgardian · 1 year

Text

Ineffable husbands titbits 4/?

_______

Her friend had just arrived, and they were getting ready to go inside the venue, when they were both startled by a chorus of honking car horns from the busy London street. They turned just in time to see a vintage Bentley screech up to the curb side, and sit there for a moment, purring deep and loud like a mechanical panther, until the engine growled to a halt.

The far door opened and a tall, wiry man with red hair, dark glasses and a very slinky black outfit stepped out. He slammed the door shut nonchalantly, and rounded the car with a swagger and a toss of his hair, seeming to be heading towards them. She exchanged an excited look with her friend. A tall, handsome stranger – and a well-off one, by the looks of it – perhaps looking for some female company for the evening? It looked like her luck was in.

But then he stepped away from the predicted path, towards the gutter, and opened the near door of his car. He offered a hand inside. She watched as it was taken by another, plumper, hand, and he gallantly stepped back, lifting another figure out of the seat. A round face and shining blonde curls were revealed as another man stepped out, smiling warmly at his helper. He was dressed smartly in much lighter clothes, with an old-fashioned style very different to his companion’s chic fit. He mouthed something that seemed to include a ‘thank you’, and in response, the ginger man bent low, bringing the other’s hand to his mouth and placing a long, romantic kiss on the back of his fingers. The blonde’s face lit up with delight, and a private twinkle flickered in each of their eyes for a moment. The ginger straightened and flicked his door closed, locking the car with a click of his fingers.

She watched them walk inside, arm in arm, and sighed. Of course. The good ones were always taken.

#my fic #my titbits #not a pr0mpt #good omens #ineffable husbands #i have had a bastard of a day #but somehow that motivated me to bang this one out at last

10 notes · View notes

world-of-fire-and-flight · 2 years

Text

Better Listener

A/N: I apparently started this at some point, or had intended to start this, and then forgot about it until I was organizing my documents😅. Anyway, thank you to @some-messed-up-writing-for-you for this awesome prompt! Prompt is in blue 😊

Warnings: injury, medical scenario, referenced violence/past violence, reference to past torture, blood reference, stabbing reference, taken hostage, restraints, emergency surgery and medical treatment, the author pretending to be a doctor, near death experience, almost dying, threat of torture, implied threats, profanity

My masterlist

Villain prowled the streets with the keen eyes of a predator. There was no plan. Acting on a whim was completely new to them, as they usually spent weeks, if not months, meticulously planning their heists, but tonight, tonight they had no plan. Right Hand was on a sabbatical of sorts and that left Villain without a sounding board and their most trusted henchman.

It’d been three weeks, and Villain still hadn’t the slightest clue what they were doing. All of their planning had been put on pause because Right Hand had taken a vacation from villainy, and to what? Take care of their kids because Lover was…

Villain wracked their brain but couldn’t remember what Right Hand had said about their spouse. Was it a car accident? An illness? Any guess was Villain’s best guess at this point. For all they knew Right Hand’s spouse was an astronaut or something and needed to go on a very important space mission to save the earth from an alien invasion or something critical like that.

It was one of Villain’s many faults, not listening. Well, no. They listened, they just didn’t remember things well because very rarely did they find the things they heard mattered in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t really matter why Right Hand had needed the time off, only that they weren’t around to poke holes and fine tune Villain’s grandiose plans.

And that’s how they found themselves wandering the city streets aimlessly for the last two and a half weeks. They’d wrapped up their latest heist without Right Hand—and by that, Villain meant they’d all narrowly escaped the clutches of justice because as it turned out, Villain needed their second-in-command more than they knew. Without them, the whole heist had been a disaster from before they even broke into the vault. Right Hand was like a Villain to English-English to Villain translator. Without Right Hand, Villain couldn’t communicate a damn thing to their other henchpeople. It was like Villain thought and spoke in a code unknown to most people, but somehow Right Hand had managed to crack it and understand it.

If only they could say the same for the rest of their henchmen.

But they had to maintain their presence at the very least, or else someone might come along and think them weak and try to usurp them. Villain just couldn’t have that. So they sent everyone packing on their own vacations…except Thief.

Thief had been dealt with after their insubordination at the last heist. Villain still hadn’t managed to get the blood stains out of their suit, or the cheap carpeting of the basement. They were due for a new area rug any way.

Rounding the corner into an alley, Villain was just about ready to ascend to the rooftops to make their way home for the night when a pair of limp, outstretched legs made their eyes spark.

Inching closer without a sound, Villain examined the shadows of the grimy alleyway and the slumped figure passed out amongst the rubble. A slow smirk spread across their face like melted butter in a hot pan.

“This is depressing.” Villain deadpanned, staring at their abandoned nemesis bleeding out in the middle of the dirty alleyway.

If Hero had still been conscious, they would have certainly grumbled out an annoying remark. And they most definitely wouldn’t have let Villain pick them up and carry them away.

Now they only had to figure out what to do with the grievously injured hero in their arms, and what they were going to do about their situation.

What would Right Hand tell them to do?

Villain didn’t know, but their mind spun with the possibilities. They could keep Hero, if only to get them out of their way. They could figure out who did this to their nemesis, but why bother? What did Villain stand to gain from picking fights with other villains—or was it another hero? Either way, it was a fight Right Hand would surely say they didn’t need and wouldn’t benefit from in the end.

Villain supposed they could figure that all out after they’d tended to Hero. Maybe they could use them for information, or as a bargaining chip against the Agency. That seemed like the best scenario, Villain mused as they set the Hero down on the gurney in their base’s operation room. Hero let out a low groan that broke off just as it passed their parted lips. Turning away, Villain thoroughly washed their hands and donned their surgical gown. A pair of gloves and a mask were next as Villain still found themselves wondering just what to do with Hero. Their options would be limited if Hero were to die, and if they died here, in their custody? Villain couldn’t imagine the fight that would threaten their doorstep. It was better to save them, if only for a time.

The criminal eyed Hero and their gaunt features as they wheeled over a metal tray to set their instruments on. They looked so small and frail in their current state. It nearly twisted the cavity in Villain’s chest where their heart should be.

Nearly, but not quite.

Focusing their attention on the rest of Hero and not their pallid face, Villain gently straightened their limbs and assessed them for more injuries than the stab wounds littering their torso. It was the most exposure and vulnerability that Villain had ever seen in Hero. The entire front of their supersuit was drenched with their blood—or at least Villain assumed it was Hero’s blood and not that of their assailant.

Swallowing, Villain found a lump in their throat as they went to restrain Hero to the gurney. Taking up the surgical scissors, Villain began to cut away what they needed of Hero’s supersuit so they could patch them up.

All irrelevant thoughts fled the moment Villain began to tend to Hero’s wounds. By the time they were done, they’d decided it was a good thing for Hero that they’d been the one to find them and not someone like Vigilante—who was utterly useless when it came to things like this—or Supervillain themselves.

Yes, Hero was very lucky, and Villain would make sure that they knew it.

Hero woke with a hazy start. All at once, their consciousness slammed into them, but their body took a moment to catch up to their whirling mind. But when it did, Hero found they couldn’t move. Blinking, Hero glanced around the darkened room. The only light came from a dimmed nightlight plugged into an outlet on the opposite wall. There were no windows.

Panting, Hero turned their head to the side and glanced at their arm. Someone had restrained them to a gurney, lovingly tucked warm blankets around them, and by all means had given the room the pretense of a hospital.

Hero fell limp against the thin mattress of the gurney. Not a hero, then. Maybe Medic, the caped community’s freelance and fickle medical professional, but they were usually around when their patients came to.

Maybe they’d only stepped out for a moment? But no, Hero reasoned with themselves, that wouldn’t explain the restraints. Medic had a thing about that. Only used them during operation or when someone first came in and was fighting them in their delirium. Post-surgery was a different matter entirely, especially since most people—usually villains—left before Medic even gave them the all-clear.

Whoever had taken them, didn’t have the same feelings about restraints as Medic. And that could only mean one thing: they’d been taken.

But who? Where?

Hero wracked their brain. What was the last thing they remembered?

Shutting their eyes, Hero’s brow furrowed. They’d been fighting—and losing. But they’d gotten away, bleeding heavily and weakening with every step.

The alley.

They’d made it to the alley between Best Pizzeria and Fusion Dining on 7th.

A disputed territory between Villain and Mob Boss.

Hero groaned. Neither outcome suited them. Maybe Medic had had a change of heart about restraints. Maybe Hero had fought them pretty badly, and they’d made an exception for post-op.

Light footsteps sounded out in the hallway. They stopped just outside of Hero’s door. All too soon, the hinges squeaked piteously. Hero picked their head off the pillow and watched as the their captor came into view. Bright light spilled into the room from the hallway, outlining the figure entering the room in a harsh shadow that hid them from Hero.

“Hello, Hero,” Villain drawled.

Hero let their head fall back on the pillow. Maybe they would’ve been better off with Mob Boss and their crew. At least they weren’t annoying.

“Go away, I’m still asleep.”

“Are you?” Villain quirked their eyebrow, twisting their lip in a smirk.

“Yes.”

“I see,” they said with an amused lilt to their voice. “Then I suppose you don’t want to hear the price for bringing you back from the brink of death?”

Hero’s eyes narrowed, watching them closely. “I wasn’t almost dead.”

Villain shrugged, bobbing their head from side to side in a show of considering Hero’s statement. “You lost a lot of blood, had seven stab wounds, and passed out in an alley, never once waking on the journey here. I’d say you were pretty much on death’s door. But thanks to me,” they paused, smirking down at Hero as they braced themselves on the gurney’s foot board. “You’re very much alive.”

“What do you want, Villain?” Hero huffed, flexing their hands when their exaggerated breath jarred the stiffness of their torso and the stitches Villain has so graciously given them. “Want me to heal so you can do with me as you please without someone else’s handiwork to compete against?”

“I did take an oath to do no harm—”

“And threw it out the window.” Hero rolled their eyes. “Imagine the money you could’ve earned if you hadn’t given up on medicine. You’d be loaded!”

“That’s what everyone thinks.” Villain grit their teeth. “Truth is, you don’t make much unless you play the game with the bureaucracy and the hours are shit and people are shit and the whole thing is just such shit toward people who just want to do good.”

“So you decided to become a villain? That makes sense,” Hero said, their voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Pays better than being a hero,” Villain snapped, “I still need to eat, and honestly? I would’ve rather stuck with medicine at that point. Same bullshit and politics.”

Hero went silent. Villain wasn’t necessarily wrong about that. Shit hours, shit pay, and a cronyism-based bureaucracy that made Hero’s temper flare every time they saw heroes like Leader get promoted over heroes like Superhero all because they kissed the right asses and Superhero refused to play the game.

“See, you know I’m right,” Villain laughed. “How is that justice, hm?”

“It’s not perfect, but becoming part of the problem isn’t a solution either,” Hero said quietly, resigned to the fact that not only was Villain right, but things would never be resolved so long as people were…well, people. That was the problem with society, Hero realized. Society was like an equation that didn’t quite come out the way it should because of human error. They supposed the human error, in most cases, was selfishness and greed. Hero shrugged the realization away. Now wasn’t the time for a philosophical epiphany. “What do you want, Villain? Company because Right Hand left?”

Villain’s smirk soured. “Two things, Hero, Right Hand didn’t leave and secondly, it’s none of your business what my people are doing outside of the mask, is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Hero muttered, watching as Villain strode around the bed and took stock of the monitor they’d hooked Hero up to before they sat in the bedside chair.

Clasping their hands together in their lap, Villain stretched their legs out casually. Hero was forced to turn their head to the side if they wanted to keep the criminal in their line of sight. By all means, Villain exuded control. Hero supposed a butterfly would’ve held the same menacing and smug control given their current circumstances restrained to the gurney too.

“Here’s the deal, Hero,” Villain started, “you are mine.”

Hero began to sputter, a sharp retort on their tongue and fire in their blood, but the look Villain shot them made them reconsider. Rarely had Villain ever actually appeared to threatening toward them, but in this moment between the dim light of the nightlight and the deadly calm over their features, Hero found themselves swallowing against the growing lump in their throat with apprehension.

“I’m ransoming you to the Agency, and until they comply, you’ll be my hostage,” Villain continued in Hero’s silence. “You have my word that you’ll be treated well until then. Any questions?”

Hero remained silent for a heartbeat. Villain had been pretty clear with their intentions, and Hero supposed they’d just have to take their word about their safety for the time being. Finally, Hero turned their head away to stare up at the plain ceiling, if only to avoid Villain’s piercing gaze. “Just one: what am I worth?”

“To the Agency or to me?”

“You know damn well what I meant,” Hero nearly snarled.

Villain tsked them. “And here I was going to uncuff you, but if you insist on being hostile toward me, they’ll have to stay on.”

“Go to hell,” Hero spat. Despite their words, the fight in their blood fizzled out. There was no point. Villain had set their mind on their plan. “Next time I almost bleed out, just let me. ‘s not worth it on my end. Or,” Hero licked their lips, “call Right Hand before you do anything. Let them talk some sense into you, for god’s sake.”

The chair groaned as Villain stood, their shoes scuffing the floor as they gravitated toward Hero’s bedside. With a snort, Villain said, “Is it that obvious that Right Hand is integral to my operation?”

Hero cocked their head. “You’re willing to admit that?”

Villain hummed, reaching for Hero’s hand and deftly undoing the cuff. “Apparently I get caught up in the details of things and can’t clearly communicate my goals.”

“As your hostage, I feel like it’s my duty to tell you that’s a bunch of bullshit,” Hero said as Villain moved to the other side of the bed and undid the second cuff. “It was quite clear to me that I wasn’t making it out of here unless you got what you wanted from the Agency or someone came to rescue me.”

“Would you like a job then? I need to replace Thief.” Villain leaned against the side railing of the gurney.

“Hell no, not if I have to put up with you every day,” Hero declared without hesitation.

“That’s fair,” Villain sighed, glancing toward the door. “You should rest. Can’t rile up the Agency by sending you back to them just as badly as how I found you. That’s a fight I don’t care for at the moment.”

“Whatever,” Hero said, rearranging the blankets around themselves now that they had free range of their arms and could burrow their hands in the soft material.

Villain rolled their eyes. “It’s a wonder you’re a hero with that attitude of yours,” they said as they turned toward the door and made to leave. They paused before they opened the door and glanced back at the watchful hero. “To me, you’re worth the Agency’s classified documents on Supervillain. We’ll see what you’re worth to them.”

Hero arched their brow. “That’s all? Pft, I would’ve asked for more. I’m worth at least Supervillain’s, Vigilante’s, and yours, if not a few hero files, too. Now I see why you need Right Hand. They’re the real mastermind.”

“Good thing I haven’t made my demands yet,” Villain smirked, pulling open the door. Stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind them, they added, “Sleep well, Hero.”

“You’re such an ass!” Hero called after them, utterly humiliated.

Maybe Villain was more of a mastermind than they’d given them credit for.

38 notes · View notes