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little-pondhead · 1 year

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I forgot about this.

The whole reasoning behind the Supervillain Danny AU sketches was that his villain persona was the complete opposite of his normal, sane self and hero persona. Danny plays into the Fenton name really hard, and ramps up the “mad scientist” bit, taking inspiration from both his normal civilian life and his parents, thus using just his last name as a villain.

And then I wanted to add what Sam and Tucker might look like if they joined in on his shenanigans. To keep with the “opposite of their normal life” bit, let’s throw in some ghostly artifacts that help the two keep up with Fenton’s madness.

Sam would get an angel’s halo that helps her form ghostly wings, and she’d play into the good-two shoes angelic look, and then she opens her mouth and verbally assaults you. She pins her bangs back and wears clothes that better fit a celestial aesthetic and uses all the etiquette training her parents taught her. Manson looks like some sort of regal angel and people expect her to be the nicest out of all of them. She’s not. Manson is the sneakiest and most bloodthirsty one, and heroes regularly wonder if she has actually committed murder or not.

Tucker takes inspiration from his time as a pharaoh. He has a metal postiche that enhances his physical ability. (Maybe it gives him dreadlocks too, but I like to think Tucker is just wearing a whole ass wig.) He wears a strange mix of street wear and his pharaoh outfit, and throws his tech-obsessed self out the window. Fenton is the nerdy one here, so now Foley is the muscle. Foley plays up meathead American bully stereotype hard. He delights in throwing hands, and hunts down supers just for the sake of a fun spar. (For him not for the supers.) Foley’s favorite people to fight so far is Killer Croc and Superman. Heroes are concerned about what would happen if Foley fought for real, but then they saw what he did to the Joker “as a joke” and decided not to ask any more questions.

Basically, the trio looked at their civilian lives and picked out what they considered “villainous traits” from the people around them that they then played into as villains themselves. If that makes sense. Sam hates how her parents want a perfect child, so she makes herself look like one. She speaks in backhanded comments and has a snooty attitude, which she learned from other rich people. Tucker is constantly confronted by bullies everyday, and all the rogues that come to Amity are always fighting, so that’s what he decides to mimic. Yeah, he now gets to be the big and strong protector of the group, but all his experience with fighting have been bad ones, and that reflects in his style. And finally, Danny. Why does he take after his parents and play into the family name? Because the Fentons are one of the biggest obstacles and source of anxiety in his life. Danny associates mad scientists to pain and other bad things, so even if all he’s being helpful in a really annoying way as a villain, his parents and the threat of the GIW still influence how he presents himself. Because to Danny, those two things are far more scary than a kid with a pirate ship or a man wearing a bat fursuit.

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the-cypress-grove · 3 months

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Prompt: 211

"Do I know you?"

"Forgotten me already, darling?"

"Ah. Fuck."

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avvail · 6 months

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supervillain x their super oblivious civilian lover

original ask submitted by @save-the-villainous-cat for the ask game!

“Morning, baby,” the civilian yawns wearily as they plod into the kitchen, rubbing their eyes softly. The supervillain turns in a beat, smiles, and then focuses their attention back onto the pans over the stove.

“Good morning, my love,” they answer smoothly, not stopping from flipping over a pancake when they feel arms wrap around their waist and a forehead nuzzle into their back. “Have a good sleep?”

The civilian nods, sighing. “Yeah. I didn’t even feel you come back last night.”

That’s because the supervillain didn’t, but they wouldn’t tell them that, of course. Once the pancake is flipped, they turn and cup their cheeks, kissing their lips softly.

The civilian looks at them and smiles happily, and the supervillain almost wants to drop the breakfast and whisk them right back to bed.

“Another late night at the office?”

The supervillain chuckles, like that’s funny. It is, a little bit. Their lover was too naive for their own good, and the idea that they would be content with an office job was quite amusing.

“Unfortuantly,” they simply respond, and the civilian huffs, like they’re offended themselves.

“They can’t keep doing that, you know,” they pout, eyes fluttering slightly when the supervillain brushes some hair from their face. “Can’t you complain so I get to spend more time with you? You’re always so busy.”

They peel away, reluctantly, and the supervillain sees the playful pout on their lips, smiling to themselves.

“The overtime is criminal,” the supervillain smirks, and the civilian laughs, shuffling away.

“You’re funny.”

The supervillain turns back to the stove, checking on the pancakes. They have some bacon and egg on the go, simply because they feel the need to spoil their lover like there was no tomorrow. They were theirs, after all, all their obliviousness aside. They just didn’t know it.

The civilian hums softly to themselves as they set the table and pour some drinks, and the supervillain relaxes into the tune. It makes them work more efficiently, until they’re dishing up, and letting their eyes linger on their pretty lover easily.

“Wanna eat and watch TV?” The civilian asks, an eager glimmer in their eye. “Unless you have to rush...”

The supervillain was their own boss – it didn’t really matter to them, not when the civilian didn’t even notice their lackluster “office hours”. They kiss their head, herding them into the lounge.

“Go on, then,” they smile, handing them their plate and watching them get comfortable on the couch with a little smile. The supervillain joins them, and they attatch themselves to their side like glue, but the supervillain doesn’t mind. They eat their fill of bacon and an omelette, while their civilian shovels added pancakes into their mouth as well.

Sometime during a programme, the supervillain’s phone rings. The civilian’s head lifts in curiosity, and they answer it. It’s work related, but they don’t leave the room, letting their hand gently card through their lovers hair as a distraction. Not that they needed it.

“Uh huh, and that’ll be ready to use by tomorrow, will it?” They absentmindedly question, their annoyance piqued by the delay of their supplies. “Just don’t fuck up the encryption. It’s sensitive, one wrong move and it’ll be your head, do you understand?”

They end the call, and the civilian shifts, glancing at them with an amused smirk. “Encryptions? Sounds fancy.”

The supervillain laughs. Not because it was funny, but just because the civilian was absolutely clueless. They lean forward, kissing their head, a roaming hand landing on their thigh.

“You know what?” The supervillain drawls. “I think I’ll have today off.”

The civilian frowns softly. “That’s the fifth time in the past two weeks. This is why they’re keeping you late, you know.”

They shut them up with a kiss, and the civilian doesn’t complain. They never do – the supervillain could destroy the city, and their clueless little lover would be by their side every step of the way.

#surrenderanask #fun :)#hero and villain #supervillain x civilian #supervillain and civilian #supervillain #civilian #writing snippet #only a short one though #ask #ask game #writing #my writing #avvail

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 7 months

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Short Prompt #1317

"Are you certain we can't do this the hard way?" the civilian asked, leaning forward in their restraints. "I mean, come on. I was expecting something much more exciting than this!"

The villain could only shake their head in disbelief. "You are truly the strangest hostage I've ever kidnapped. You want me to beat you up?!"

#writeblr #writing #writing prompt #short prompt #hero x villain #villain x civilian #hero x villain community #smuwfy #some messed up writing for you

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saltydumplings · 9 months

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Hi, I’m not really sure how this works but I was wondering if you could write a lil short story/snippet of villain x reporter were villain find reporter following then after a big battle?

thank you in advance!! 💙

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a request for the first time in months, oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Request #29

There was blood on their left shoulder. The villain huffed in annoyance, wiping at the stain with one hand and grimacing when it smudged.

That fight had been unnecessary.

The hero had instigated it - the villain giving them ample opportunity to stand down but their enemy was stubborn. Almost stupidly so. They took one look at the villain and decided that they couldn't possibly go one second longer without punching them in the face.

And, of course, the media would paint it as their fault. Because if the villain so much as breathed anywhere near the city centre then obviously their intentions were nothing short of nefarious. No, the villain didn't need to go grocery shopping at all: those bananas were clearly going to be the foundation for their next evil scheme - crucial some might say.

The villain groaned to themself as they walked down the alleyway, using their clean hand to pinch the bridge of their nose.

So much food had been wasted.

So much damage had been caused and for what?

If they were being honest, they weren't entirely sure if it was worth it anymore. If the cause that had led them to where they were still held out strong enough to reason days like this - destruction like this. Common destruction; everyday, needless, a mere swipe upon the hero's page but an ugly blot upon their own. The villain was supposed to be fighting for change but it seemed that everything they did only made the walls they were trying to tear down stronger. They were enabling the very thing they stood against and all the while they were hurting the people they were trying to save - trying to free from a society that never thought of them twice.

At this point, it was better to simply retire and let things return to the way they were. And, if in their misery they figured out a better way then perhaps they could try again...

The villain came to a sudden stop, wondering if they would truly give in right there and then, only to freeze at the sound of movement behind them. A short, scuffling noise - someone attempting to hide and not doing a very good job of it.

Surely the hero hadn't followed them?

The villain turned about, surveying the empty alley behind them, their gaze quickly honing in on a stack of crates. They waited patiently, silent, watching as their would-be stalker peered out from behind their cover and ducked down twice as fast - a small squeak of realisation echoing off the walls. Even if the villain hadn't seen them, they certainly would have heard that.

They let themself relax somewhat, rationalising that their pursuer was either a civilian or a moron. Perhaps even both...

"You realise that you're not exactly discreet, right?" they said.

There was a pause. A long one.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," the villain pushed. "Either you come out, or I drag you out. One--"

"No, no! N-No need for dragging!"

The villain felt their brows raising as their stalker revealed themself, quickly springing out from their hiding spot like a startled rabbit. They had been right: civilian and a moron. Though, when it came to members of the press, the villain couldn't really expect much else.

"I-I, um," the reporter stumbled on their words as the villain approached them, hands clutching onto their notepad shakily. "I just had a, er - a f-few questions. I-If that's alright with you, of course..."

Perhaps stubborn was a better word. Tenacious.

The villain had seen the way these people practically hovered around the hero. Had even seen one or two get punched by the crime-fighter out of pure annoyance and yet, still, more persisted to harass them.

None had ever attempted to approach the villain before though. None had ever dared...until now.

They stopped just centimetres away from the other, amused by the way the reporter held their ground even when they were clearly scared out of their mind.

"You get three questions," the villain allowed. "But I won't promise any answers."

The reporter's eyes widened. "W-Wait, only three?" they asked.

"Two now," the villain answered.

A beat.

The reporter floundered, opening and closing their mouth multiple times before hurriedly flicking through their notepad. Clearly they'd had their questions planned out - pages upon pages of them - but now they were having to choose only two.

The villain quirked a brow as they watched, foot starting to tap upon the ground while the seconds ticked by.

"Okay, I- no, no, h-hold on."

The reporter flicked back through their notes again, the villain tolerating it all of about five more seconds before snatching the pad from their hands and holding it out of their reach - the reporter giving a startled squeak before looking up at them with horror.

"G-Give that back," they said.

The villain smirked. "No."

"B-But--"

"But what?"

"I..." the reporter flushed, fingers twitching at their sides. "Could you please just give it back?"

The villain's grin grew sharper. "No. And you have one question left - better choose wisely."

"Wait, but that wasn't- I didn't- i-it--!"

"One question~" the villain chimed.

The reporter settled back into silence. Their gaze flicked between their notepad and the villain that held it, something surprisingly similar to a glare lining their expression. Were they about to...?

They did.

The reporter jumped up and snatched the notepad right from the villain's fingers, darting back immediately and flicking through it with frantic urgency.

Cheeky little--

Where the hell did these people get their courage from?

The villain went to snatch it back but the reporter raised their hand, reading out from the final page in an incomprehensible rush:

"DoyouthinkthatHeroshouldbeheldaccountableforthedamagetheycausewhenfightingyouanddoyoubelievethatthisdamageisnecessarywhenthwartingyourplans?"

The villain stopped. Blinked. "What did you just say to me?"

The reporter swallowed, taking in one steady breath before trying again more slowly. "Do you think that Hero should be held accountable for the damage they cause when fighting you, a-and do you believe that this damage is necessary when thwarting your plans?"

Of all the questions they could have asked, the villain had not expected it to be that. It stunned them: they were so used to people always taking the hero's side that they'd almost forgotten the rush of relief that came with being believed - that little thrill of confidence when you found out you weren't alone.

They paused, eyes wide as they studied the other in a new light. "No," they whispered.

"No?" the reporter questioned. They let themself relax a little - no longer cautious but rather curious.

"No," the villain clarified more strongly. "No: that damage is not necessary. And yes they should be held accountable for it - they shouldn't be allowed to use me as an escape goat for the destruction that they actively cause."

For a moment, the reporter's jaw went slack, fully engrossed in what they were saying. The second the villain stopped though they fumbled about their pockets, quickly fishing out a pen and clicking the lid off - taking a few scribbled notes before staring back up at the villain with shining eyes.

"Anything else?" they asked eagerly.

The villain flushed a little under the attention, and not in a bad way. The more they talked to the reporter the more likeable they became: the villain still thought they were stubborn - foolishly so - but they were beginning to recognise that it was more in a puppy-like way than anything truly annoying; the reporter was cute.

"They'll look for any excuse to attack me," they said, each word a small weight off their chest. "The papers will say that I was the one to initiate but I rarely am - that's just what the government wants you to believe. In fact, I'm sure Hero is instructed to be more reckless purposefully just to paint me in a worse light but that's never been my intention: never has been, never will be."

"I knew it!" the reporter said. Then they blushed when the villain raised a brow at them, ducking their head in a vague attempt to hide behind that tiny notebook of theirs. "I mean, I - I had some, er, speculations..."

The villain hummed. "Good speculations I'd hope."

The red of the reporter's cheeks darkened. "A-Any more comments you'd like to add?" they asked, changing the topic.

The villain had to resist the urge to sigh. Because yes; yes, they did. So many...but they didn't want to dump it all on the reporter at once and run the risk of losing the one person that they'd spoken openly to in years.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" they questioned back. "Do you plan to publish it?"

"W-Well, yes. If that's alright, o-of course." The reporter shuffled a little on their feet, suddenly shy. "Not in any of the major papers though - obviously. I mean, they would never let me... It's for a blog I write online. It's small but I-I like to think that it could grow to something bigger. Something that could, y-you know..."

"Change things?" the villain finished, watching as the reporter gave a small nod. "You want things to change?"

The reporter huffed. "Who doesn't?" they said.

The villain considered that a while. Considered it with a hesitation that they'd never had to deal with before. It was one thing to put themself at risk, it was a whole other thing entirely to then insert someone else into that same mess - to tangle them up in something that they could never get out of.

"How much?" the villain challenged. "How much do you want it?"

A pause.

The reporter swallowed, eyes glancing over the villain's frame in a studious way. "Why do I feel like you're giving me a massive, life-altering choice?"

"Because I am," the villain said simply.

"Oh."

The reporter fell silent again. Their gaze drifted away - focused back on the entrance of the alleyway that they'd followed the villain down before falling once more to stare at the notepad in their hands. They held it just a little tighter, lower lip caught between their teeth as they thought it through.

The villain waited patiently, a small excitement sparking within their chest when the reporter's attention drew back to them.

"More than anything," the other said, finally. "More than I can openly admit."

The other followed their direction without question. "O-Oh, right, yes I-- o-of course!"

The villain nodded. Smiled.

"Alright, then. So be it," they said. "You'll want to put that somewhere safe," they added as an afterthought, gesturing to the notepad in the reporter's hands.

They fumbled to put it away into a bag at their side, the villain watching them carefully as they did it.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" they asked.

The reporter waved a hand dismissively whilst they struggled with the zip. "What, me? No, no, it - it's all work, work, work. I never really find the time for much else."

"So no one to expect you then?" the villain pursued. "No one you're meant to be seeing?"

"No, I--" The reporter paused, their eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because..."

The villain took a step forward then, hands reaching out to catch onto their shoulders. They pulled the reporter closer, the civilian's face flushing at the sudden contact - the sudden strong contact.

"I'm planning to enact my first official kidnapping," the villain said, "and I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #writeblr #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #villain #civilian

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automeris-io-moth · 10 months

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Please please, can we have some rescued Civilian? From anyone, just, ✨ rescued civilian✨

Rescued.

"You know I wouldn't hurt you, right?"

Civilian offered no response, curling further against the wall, blood still warm, staining their face.

They hid their face behind their knees and hands.

"Right, love?" Villain insisted, voice trembling as they kneeled before their partner "They wanted to use you against me, Hero wanted to hurt you.”

Villain took off their mask with a harsh pull, throwing it to the side. They reached forward slowly, wanting for Civilian to face them, perhaps that way, they thought, the sight of their lover would ease them.

It didn't.

As the blood-stained fingers brushed against Civilian’s face the trembling person whimpered in fear.

Shocked, Villain took away their hand.

“I’m sorry, Civilian,” they whispered “I never meant for you to be involved in any of this.”

“Let me leave,” Civilian’s voice trembled. “I won’t tell anyone who you are.”

Villain sighed.

“I know you won’t. Stand up.”

A second, a heartbeat.

As gently as they could, yet firmly still, Villain grabbed onto their arm, pulling them up. Trembling legs pushed them straight into the arms of the criminal, barely able to keep themselves up, Civilian felt the arms of their lover - the killer - sneak behind their waist to keep them upright, such a normal, mundane action from them, brought shivers to their spine.

With a clean, white handkerchief, Villain cleaned their face. Then, they placed their jacket right back on, all sight of blood gone from view.

“We’re going back home,” they said, looking right back at the wide, teary eyes that stared at them, kissing the forehead of their lover “I’m gonna take care of the wounds Hero dared to make on you, I’ll clean you up. Then, I’ll cook you something hot, something you like. We’ll eat dinner together, and then we’ll talk.”

Civilian shook their head, crying harder.

“I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. I would never, ever hurt you,” they grabbed their chin, lifting Civilian’s face up to make them face them “but I don’t have the same considerations for others, so be careful when we go out on the streets, love.”

Masterlist

Rescued Civilian, yes. Terrified of their rescuer Civilian, also yes.

#my writing #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #villain x hero #short story #hero #writing wip #writing snippet #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #villain #villains and heroes #wips #civilian whumpee #carewhumper #villain carewhumper

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Destruction

Snyopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

Being the first person out the door undoubtedly did Civilian no favors to their work reputation.

Anytime someone joked about it, often with an edge, Civilian would make excuses: their dog needed let out (they didn’t have a dog), they had to get to the bank before it closed (they use their banking app 90 percent of the time), they liked having a work/life balance (that one’s true).

The real reason, of course, was to avoid any encounters with them. Their newest colleague -- Jonathan Anderson. A bland, forgetful name for a bland, forgetful person. He arrived two months ago in her data entry division, dressed everyday in the same unremarkable navy suit with a grey tie, gave generic responses to small talk at lunch.

And he scared the shit out of them.

Luckily for Civilian, their paths didn’t cross that often and when they would, Civilian had found ways to neatly side step them -- emails instead of face to face conversations, calling in favors, and once, even taking a sick day to avoid a meeting.

It worked great -- until it didn’t.

The elevator descended at an agonizing snail’s pace. Civilian stood in the back, gripping the railing behind them with a sweaty hand and tried to breathe slowly and evenly.

The only other person in the elevator with them -- and the only other person in the building -- was Jonathan Anderson. Because of course he would be working late the one time Civilian had a deadline change and a mad scramble to get everything read by tomorrow.

He stood in front of the buttons, his back to them, plain brown leather briefcase dangling from his hand. To everyone else, he looked harmless. But the sheer power of his aura radiated like the sun. It made Civilian light-headed being in such close contact with it.

Thirty more seconds, they thought to themselves. That’s all this elevator ride would last. After that Civilian could scurry off to the parking garage and screech out of here.

29 . . . 28 . . . 27 . . .26 . . .

The elevator came to a sudden, sickening halt and Civilian’s heart with it. They waited for the emergency alarm to blare, but the elevator stayed eerily silent.

“Is there . . is there something wrong?” Their voice came out shaky and hoarse. They cleared their throat.

For a moment Jonathan didn’t respond. Instead he turned around to lean casually against the wall and survey them, his face as bland and unreadable as always.

“That’s a question I think I should be asking,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

Instantly their hackles rose. It took considerable effort to keep the panic from their face, to force their shoulders to relax, to look confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re afraid of me.”

The truth struck true, lodging itself between their ribs. Civilian swallowed, suddenly dry mouthed, and tried to find the air again.

“You’ve trapped me in an elevator and you’re bigger than me,” they pointed out.

“That is rather nerve-wracking, I’ll admit. It’s almost believable. But this started a long time ago, didn’t it?”

He straightened and took a step towards them. And another. All while speaking in that affable, level tone, as if commenting on the weather.

“Since my first day here. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you never shook my hand that day. Or that I don’t notice all the little tricks you pull to avoid me. Yet we’ve never had a negative encounter. You’ve never given me the opportunity to create a bad impression. It’s rather baffling, don’t you think?”

He stopped a safe distance away but close enough to prevent any attempt to escape. Despite being only a couple inches taller than Civilian, they loomed in the small space.

“So tell me -- how do you know?”

“Know what?”

It was their only defense, this wide eyed denial. To pretend they were discomfited by a bizarre encounter with their coworker, rather than straddling the edge of a panic attack while stuck in an elevator with a man who could kill them with a snap of his fingers probably.

He snorted. “You gave up the ability to be coy when you stepped into this elevator. Please don’t make me ask you again.”

Though he made no threatening movements, the swell of his power spoke for him, the pressure of it nearly suffocating.

“I can feel it,” Civilian whispers shakily. “Your power. Anyone’s power. They have an -- an aura about them and I can feel how strong it is.”

“So you can tell, instantly, who is and isn’t a powered individual?” he clarified, his focus sharpening like the sun through a magnifying glass.

They only managed a nod, their throat tight.

“Fascinating.”

The hint of awe in his voice would have been flattering if Civilian hadn’t spent so much effort to avoid this kind of attention.

“And which organization is benefiting from this power? Who is keeping tabs on me?”

“No one,” Civilian said hurriedly. “I haven’t told anyone.”

A wicked smirk spread like slow poison across his face, transforming a visage that no one looked twice at into something terrifying.

“Do you think I’m as stupid as I pretend to be for work? There is no possibility that any organization would allow someone like you to walk untethered. Now, answer the question before I show you exactly why my aura frightens you so much.”

His hand hovered just over their heart, the beat of which a cacophony in their ears. Nothing happened -- yet. But the anticipation of it, coupled with the fact that Civilian still had no idea what such power was, made their whole body start to tremble.

“They don’t know about me,” they said, throat tight. “No one knows about me. I’ve kept it a secret my whole life.”

Jonathan still surveyed them with suspicion. “Why? I imagine you would be an extremely valuable asset to them. And those tend to be very well compensated. You expect me to believe you’d rather be a data clerk for a bank?”

A flash of rage breaks through the fog of terror. “My father was an extremely valuable asset. It didn’t stop him from dying an excruciating and unnecessary death. I’m not following in his footsteps.”

For a moment he looked taken aback at this confession before his eyes narrowed in what almost seemed like approval. It emboldened Civilian.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here and I don’t want to know. If I tell anyone about you, it will blow my secret too. So just . . . let me stay out of your way?” They swallowed, tongue darting out to moisten cracked lips. “Please?”

For several agonizing seconds he just looked at them, his face blank as printer paper. Civilian tried to meet his eyes, to look trustworthy, but the weight of his flat, calculating stare was too much. Instead, their gaze fell onto his hand, still hovering over their heart, ready to crush them or incinerate them or dissolve them or whatever ungodly thing he could do.

And then his hand slowly slipped down further between them and flipped up, palm open.

“What take out do you enjoy?” he asked.

“ . . .what?”

“It’s a bit late for a restaurant, but I know several takeout places still open this time of night. Do you have a preference?”

It was Civilian’s turn to stare at Jonathan with their brow furrowed.

“You -- you don’t need to buy me dinner,” they stammered.

“Of course I do. It’s customary for a date, yes?”

“For a what?” Civilian choked.

That wicked smirk appeared again, giving life to the void of his neutral expression.

“You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“I -- I’m not your enemy!”

“And you will never have the opportunity to be one. I’m ensuring it. And since you refuse to acknowledge my presence here at work, there is only one other recourse. Now choose or I shall choose for you.”

A date. Dinner. With him. Someone with the strongest aura Civilian had ever encountered. Someone who was definitely planning something illegal.

“I like tacos,” they said faintly.

With a wave of his hand, the elevator shuddered back to life and continued it’s gentle decent to the ground floor.

“Then we shall get tacos,” said Jonathan, taking their hand.

Part Two

#my writing #not a prompt #enemies to lovers #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain

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