Could I possibly request some Superhero x Hero x Villain pls? Where maybe Hero and Villain are being terrorized by Supervillain and Superhero, who is really protective of both of them isn't going to let Supervillain be a nussiance and a terror for much longer.
NYEHEHEHEHEHE YES
Prompt #17
(Part 2) (Part 3)
Superhero found them in their room, curled up in bed in the dark.
Their arms wrapped around their blanket to hold on to something, gasping quietly as they tried to catch their breath and slow their panicked mind.
Superhero had enough experience with this. They quietly slid into bed next to them, laying close but not touching. Waiting for them to come to Superhero.
Finally, after several minutes of gasps and sobs and audible swallows, Villain did. Rolling over to face their partner, wrapping their arms around Superhero and burying their face in their chest.
Superhero gently rubbed their back, listening as Villain cried softly against them.
"What'd they do this time?" Superhero murmured, letting out a breath.
Villain pushed themself away from Superhero slightly, putting just enough space between them to show Superhero their hands. It was hard to see in the dark, but Superhero could just make the large red welts running across their palms.
"Are there more anywhere else?" Superhero whispered, gently taking one of Villain's trembling hands.
Villain slowly reached back to touch their neck, and Superhero took a deep breath.
It was taking all of their effort to stay quiet. To not overreact, because they knew that was the last thing Villain wanted in their current fragile state. That despite the absolute anger and hatred running through them, they couldn't express it now.
"You're not going back there," they leaned in to kiss Villain's forehead. "I'm not letting you. Now let's get you patched up."
This had gone far enough.
Superhero had meant to slip out while the two were sleeping, but it was just as they were reaching for the door nob when something caught their wrist.
Startled, Superhero jumped, twisting around and glancing up, only to find themself facing their other partner. "Oh," they let out a breath. "It's just you."
"I'm not letting you do this." Hero said firmly, their grip on Superhero's wrist tightening. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"I have to," Superhero spoke quietly, matching Hero's low tones. Neither of them wanted to wake Villain, who was now asleep in the bedroom. "They can't keep terrorizing you two like this."
"We can stay away from them," Hero's voice was soft, but determined. "We'll avoid them, and things will-"
"We both know that's not a possibility." Superhero pointed out. They took a step closer to Hero. "They're not going to leave either of you alone. This has to be dealt with before they realize Villain isn't coming back, or else they're going to hunt you two down."
Hero let out a breath, glancing down at their feet. "I know," they whispered. "I'm scared."
"Hey," Superhero pulled them to themself, holding them tightly. "I'll deal with it. I can handle them. After all, I've got two wonderful people worth fighting for, right?"
They could feel Hero's slight smile against their chest. "I guess. I know how you are when you're defensive."
"No one's beaten me when I get defensive," Superhero agreed.
It was true. Their was a different kind of fire that lit inside of Superhero when they were fighting for something or someone particularly special. They thought everything should be equal, and couldn't bear to see injustice. They put their all into fighting for the things they found important, and that side of them was particularly brought out when it came to their partners.
They felt Hero swallow. "Villain hasn't said anything all day."
"I know. That's why I have to do this." Superhero took a step back, their hands resting on Hero's shoulders. They both knew that the usually talkative Villain would go completely silent when they weren't doing well. It'd only happened twice, and it was terrifying each time. "Go back to them. They need you. I'll be back soon."
Hero nodded, but Superhero could see the warring emotions on their face, could feel their uncertainty in their movements. They leaned down to press their forehead against their partner's. "I'll be back when you two wake up."
"You'd better," Hero whispered.
"I promise."
Supervillain's lair was dark.
In the deep quiet hours of the night, every half-built contraption looming up out of the darkness as Superhero snuck through on the lightest of feet. Every step was carefully planned so Superhero wouldn't accidentally bump into anything while sneaking through.
Using the map of the lair they'd gotten from Villain, they new that Supervillain's actual quarters were on the bottom floor, behind a huge locked vault door and a hallway full of traps.
All of these could be deactivated by a code that had also been in Villain's notes, and for a moment it seemed something good had come of using Villain as a double agent to get close to Supervillain.
It definitely hadn't been worth it, however. Superhero thought back on the welts on Villain's hands and the clear markings of a horrid tight grip on their neck and scowled to themself in the darkness.
But Supervillain would be dead by morning. Superhero would see to that.
They had just made it to the computer to deactivate the traps when a light flicked on behind them.
A cool breeze tickled their back, and Superhero froze.
They were caught.
The crime-stopper slowly turned around, trying to calm their pounding heart as they faced their foe.
Supervillain sat on a large tarp, covering some sort of boxes that Superhero couldn't see. They were lounged backwards, as cool and as awake as ever even at the ungodly hours of the night.
"So," they said, leaning back further. Only pointing out their casual stance. "I see Villain ratted me out."
"I made them," Superhero lied. "I knew they'd cave."
Supervillain smirked. "Yes, they always were quite soft. Easily malleable. It's not too hard to get them to bend, I should've been better at picking my right-hand men."
It was a direct jab at Superhero, trying to get them to give something away. Superhero didn't know how much Supervillain knew about their relationship, but they knew the criminal was suspicious. It was part of why they'd started being so harsh on Villain in the first place.
But Superhero managed to keep their composure, despite their desperate urge to leap forward and tear Supervillain apart with their bare hands. They stood their ground, glaring. "I'm here for Hero." Now that relationship was public, and it was why Supervillain had started targeting them out of the other teams of heroes. They knew Superhero's favorite, and knew it was a way to really get to their enemy.
Supervillain chuckled. "Ohhh, Hero! How are they doing? Last I heard from them I scared them so badly they nearly fainted then I left them for dead. Have they recovered yet?"
Superhero's hands tightened to fists. "They were already back on patrol last week."
The criminal whistled. "That's impressive! Now, I assume you're here to do the same to me?"
Superhero dropped into a low stance, ready for a fight. They had to finish what Supervillain had started by ever daring to lay a finger on their partner's.
"I'm here for your head," they snarled.
Supervillain's eyebrows raised. "Well. Isn't that quite a threat. Shall we get this over with, then?"
"If you don't mind."
Superhero loosed their weapon as Supervillain dropped down from their stack of boxes, ready for battle.
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Fuck around and find out
zoomed from here with @heatherxmp
This fucking guy. Kaz hated a lot of things in this world, most things if he was being real. But Heather? Was not one of them. He just hated the way he wanted to simp whenever this hunk of a man was around. Especially when he called the son of Acat any form of ‘my’ and ‘pretty’; though he would never admit it. With his lips squished that had Kaz’s face looking like a puffed out fish, all of the anger from the guys before pushed out of him just like the words he said squeezed out of the tiny hole he had from Heather’s firm hold. “I would kill them for you. Anyone bumps into you again they gonna catch these fuckin’ chains and the fucking curb.” And this gun, but that was obvious as he heather was currently grinding against it *and* him. Which was… to say the least, keeping him from moving away from the hold he was in. “Don’t lie, you'd love to see me do that shit.”
Another thing Kaz hated, was admitting that Heather had a way of making him forget about everything else. Sometimes, that gaze would pull him in so hard not a single other thing in the room mattered.
Hate number three at this point, but even being stared at-the bane of his existence-if it was Heather? Suddenly it would have him blushing under his thick makeup, something he was thankful covered it up every time. The heat in his lips probably gave him away though as he welcomed the plump lips that he was craning his whole neck for. Giving in immediately and only pretending to push him on the chest after Heather pulled back. Even still the goth’s arm was holding onto him so tight it was obvious he didn’t want Heather to move an inch….
Well maybe an inch.. Into him… but that’s besides the point.
“What should I be saving my energy for, then? You?” With a smirk Kaz wove fingers in the back of Heather’s hair, forcing his cute fucking smiled face (thought with animosity in the best way) to bend down to Kaz’s level, a shit eating grin on his face. “Wanna tussle? You can beat me up instead.” With his makeup on, Kaz was confident; didn’t mind being so fucking bold. It helped that this was heather; There were never any expectations with him, they could joke about it, or actually do it, and either way was always fun.
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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