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raineandsky · 2 months

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#102

tw: abuse, threats, knives

The superhero barely sleeps anymore, but he can’t afford to. His mind is always haunted by one question: where has the hero gone?

His assistant lingers on the threshold to his office while he stares blankly at the table. She clears her throat when he shows no sign of acknowledging her. She holds a little envelope out to him when he glances up, his name written on the front in glittering cursive.

He reads the contents. Rereads. Looks to his assistant for answers. Receives none. Stares back down at the words on the little note in front of him.

“Well,” he says flatly, “I suppose I best go if we want the city to stay intact.”

The supervillain answers the door with a winning smile and a shocking amount of hospitality.

“I’m so glad you made it,” he says brightly. He ushers the superhero into what can only be described as a mansion. Crime clearly pays well—or he likes to pretend it does. Who knows how he came into a house like this.

The supervillain sets the superhero down in an extravagant dining hall. Servants line the room, practically invisible in the shadows, almost as much of the furniture as the table and chairs in the middle of the room. Most of them have their eyes pointed to the floor.

The supervillain settles in the chair opposite and motions for one of the servants to step forward with a wine decanter. They pour it out agonisingly slowly, their focus honed in on the glass, before skirting around the table to do the same for the superhero.

The superhero startles. “Oh, there’s no need—”

“Nonsense!” the supervillain gestures for the servant to continue. “You’re my guest. Have a drink, please.”

The wine is poured. The servant steps back, their gaze flitting to the supervillain, and with the slightest nod of his head they retreat back into the shadows.

The superhero watches them go, catching the eye of one of the other servants standing on the outskirts of the room. It catches him off guard slightly—he could’ve sworn they were all staring at the floor—but after a moment to study their face he has to hold down a choked gasp.

That’s the hero. The hero he’s spent endless days searching for. The hero that disappeared off the face of the earth, who seemed to just cease to exist. The hero’s staring back at him like they’re equally stunned to see him here, their eyes wide and their jaw slack.

The quiet goes on too long. The supervillain twists in his chair to glance at whatever’s caught the superhero’s interest.

“Ah,” he says shortly. The single word seems to snap the hero out of it, their gaze immediately snapping back down to the ground. “Is my servant here bothering you?”

“You—” You invited me here on purpose. The superhero can’t think of words outraged enough. They’ve been here the whole time. “How dare you—”

“[Hero],” the supervillain says lightly. “Come here.”

The hero shares a worried glance with the servants next to them before slowly stepping towards him. They pause just behind his chair, their head bowed—out of fear or respect, it’s not obvious. “Sir?”

The villain holds his hand up to them expectantly. “Give me your hand.”

The hero spares a glance at the superhero. “B-But sir, our guest—”

“Your hand, [Hero].”

They hesitate, their breath uneven. Then they slowly, slowly put their hand in the supervillain’s.

The supervillain moves faster than the superhero can react. He slams their palm down against the table, his grip deathly tight on their wrist. A steak knife sits in his other hand, the tip poised over the back of the hero’s hand.

The superhero’s on his feet in an instant. The hero desperately tries to pull away, but the supervillain’s grip on them is vice-like.

“Now,” he says smoothly, “what have I said about manners?”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero tries.

“Haven’t I taught you anything?”

“I– I’m sorry.” It comes out of the hero’s mouth like a knee-jerk reaction, like it’s been said a million times before. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again—”

The supervillain twists the knife testily against their skin. Something of a strangled sob tears from the hero’s throat. “Staring is rude, [Hero].”

“I– I know, I’m so sorry—”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero snaps with all the authority he can muster. “Stop.”

“I deal with my servants how I please, [Superhero].” The supervillain’s gaze pulls up to him lazily. “This is my domain, not yours.”

But he thankfully lets go of the hero. They pull back nervously fast, their hands cupped over each other protectively. The supervillain glances back at them as they attempt to meld back into the shadows. “Go downstairs, [Hero],” he says flatly. “We will discuss this incident later.”

The hero’s gaze snaps back to him like he just asked them to walk into hell itself. “Down– Downstairs?”

“Don’t make me repeat my instructions twice, [Hero]. You know this.”

Their eyes flit between the supervillain and the superhero for a moment. Then they dip into a short bow, and with a slightly choked “sir,” they practically bolt from the room.

A couple of the servants behind the supervillain exchange whispers and sorrowful glances.

“I must apologise,” the supervillain says with an innocent sigh. “I thought I’d trained my servants better than that. I assure you such behaviour will be dealt with.”

The superhero’s still on his feet. “Release them immediately.”

The supervillain idly swills the wine for a second. “Or what?”

“The agency will not stand for this.” The superhero clenches his fists at his sides. “I will not stand for this.”

“Well,” the supervillain drawls, “you can have them back when I’m dead.” The supervillain sets his glass on the table a little too hard. “This has been a wonderful evening, [Superhero]. Now get out.”

It takes 20 minutes to get back to the agency, and by then the superhero has a half-formed plan in his head and a burning cry for vengeance.

When he’s dead. So be it.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #whump #tw abuse #tw threats #tw knife #friends i am FIGHTING burnout rn #i had covid like 2 weeks ago and ive barely written since then #just no ideas no energy no vibes no anything #but!! ive been crankin some stories for yall out this weekend SO im hopin this marks the start of the end of that #im gettin back into the groove after 2 weeks of almost nothing!! bear with me!!

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nuppu-nuppu · 2 years

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angel izuku

#Midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #bnha fanart #mha fanart #deku #i tried to draw kacchan too but i just couldn't get it right sorry this is all you will get #i'm oretty happy with how this came out #i would be happier if i had a kacchan to go along with it ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;#sorry about it #listen to phoebe bridgers right now #this is straight up angelic shit #hope you're doing well #i'm finally starting to recover from covid so i'm doing a lot better #<33333

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lolita-lollipop · 2 years

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I just had an idea! So think about this we still are in zoom for classes and Aizawa is just teaching his class? And then we come in saying like dad or other things trying to get his attention or help how would us react ?? would they go Yandere?

YANDERE CLASS 1A X READER X YANDERE PARENTS ERASERMIC

The coronavirus had changed many things in the average lives of the 1A students, like the new restrictions on going off-school perimeters, the mask-wearing in public classes, and most drastically, the zoom classes from inside their dorm rooms. The only class that was allowed outside their hero class, and even that was done privately one on one. These kids spent alllllll day locked up in their rooms, it was suitable for more introverted students like Yokoyama or Jiro immensely enjoyed it, they didn’t have to speak to many, and the schoolwork was so much faster. But extroverted students, like Kirishima or mina, or maybe even bakugo, loathed it.

The only human interaction they got was with teachers, or with students through a screen. Bakugo spent all day blasting music, screaming at anyone who knocked on his door, mina was exceptionally irritable, and Kirishima pretty much spent all day watching Spanish soap operas. Not to mention the fourteen other students practically dying in their dorms. They all desperately needed something to cheer them up.

Then they all saw you.

It was small, just a peek. It was around the end of the school day, English with present mic. Or in other words, the worst class of the day. They’d all been crammed onto a zoom call with the oh-so-bubbly blonde, half asleep, longing to go outside and save some child from a pile of burning rubble. Or even get attacked by the LOV! anything- literally anything other than listening to this man ramble on about conjugations and verbs. Bakugo was screaming with his mic muted, Deku was legitimately watching the green paint on his wall dry, and Mina was learning a dance from thirty years ago. Everything was so dull.

Then. You came along.

“To conjugate a word in English you have to first take the subject and place it behind the action, then you-“ Mic rambled on, clicking through a PowerPoint to teach these poor kids English. He was cut off not long after, the door behind him creaking open with a looonnnnggg squeak, mic stopped speaking, expecting it to be his other husband getting home from work. The mic was in quarantine at the moment, working from home, bored. After the loud creak, I showed you, dressed in a pink pajama ensemble, hair pulled back into two low pigtails, a tired look on your face even though it was 3:00 in the afternoon. Probably the aftereffect of the “special tea” you’ve been drinking, the second they all saw you. They. Fell. In. Love.

“Papa? I can’t find my cat- have you seen her?” You peeped out, clearly not recognizing the zoom call, mic whipped his head around at your voice, immediately muting his microphone. All of the students could see how mics face brightened up, how he smiled at you as he spoke a few words. Pointing to the small cat in the corner of the room. Immediately the tiny girl picked it up, turning around to say goodbye to Mic. The class was mesmerized by that far-away look in your eyes. Then you saw the screen and realized what you had done, your face went pale, and your eyes widened. Immediately you ran out of the room and closed the door. Mic let out a chuckle and unmuted, just to be bombarded with questions.

“Who was that?”

“Why is there a girl in your room Mr mic?”

“Is that your daughter?”

“Does she go to ua?”

The smile completely wiped off of his face, realizing what his entire class of students just saw. The girl who went missing not long ago. They all now had witnessed her in person. Oh god oh god oh god. It’s fine, not the end of the world, he can play this off, this call isn’t being filmed, this is just a coincidence, you just happened to be there. No one will know.

“Yes yes that’s just my daughter, I told her not To come in here, sorry for the interruption class, now let’s get back to-“

“What’s her name? How old is she? Does she go to u.a?” Izuku quickly mumbled, taking out his notebook. He had to know who this girl was, she was just- just so amazing. Was this a quirk? This has to be a quirk right? He just asked the questions everyone was thinking about, an obsession clouded every single student's brain at that moment.

“A-ah- invested aren’t we? Her name is y/n, and she’s homeschooled so no. Now back to learning the English literature, because we are in English class”

“Wait but-“ Izuku attempted to continue questioning, but Mic clicked the mute button on all his students. That’s one plus of this miserable pandemic, whenever you don’t want to hear someone, you can just turn them off. that’s enough about you, let’s hope that all the students forget about it, forget about you. Goddamn. So much for letting you walk around without quirk canceling cuffs, your quirk is… special. It makes a sense of protection for anyone who lays eyes on you, makes everyone feel the need to keep you safe. It always works against you though, that’s why your “parents” pulled you out of school. They’ll forget about it. They will.

…

Flashback: they didn’t

days passed by and every single class that Aizawa held with his students, along with Mic, was filled with questions about the young girl they saw in the camera a single time. some students were subtle, and some were not, some would just ask if he had any other children and mix the topic of you in, and some would outright ask to see you (aka our spiky-haired friend bakugo). It worried both of your parents, not only did a large group of hormonally influenced teenagers not only know of your existence, but your quirk has taken over their minds. it was like a parasite.

So, the two would hope for the best and shut down the students every time they asked about you, instead assigning homework to anyone who asked. It wasn't long before they started doing research on you, looking to find you on any platform, every social media app. any google searches, nothing.

it was like nobody knew that the two well-known pro heroes had a daughter, which was quite odd, considering the paparazzi follows them everywhere. While a few of the students gave up hope of finding who you were at least, others took to... less legal ways of research, paying off anyone who would be up to searching the deepest darkest crevices of the web.

Until one night, a month or two after catching glimpse of you, Izuku Midoria was sent the results from his barely legal endeavor. he read through the pages with wide eyes, you would be surprised what someone can do from a computer. Pages upon Pages of info on a screenshot he had taken of this mysterious girl. He didn't understand what it was about her that enthralled him as it did, but oh boy was he caught in this trap.

something that caught his eye though was a specific photo of a newspaper article reading:

"MISSING

reported October 7th 2018

11 year old female missing after going on a walk with her dog (golden retriever), dog was found, child was not. Bearing h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, and around 5'2 in height. wearing a blue striped sweater and jean shorts, hair tied in short ponytail.

Any information found by civilians should be reported to nearest hero agency, or police organizations"

It was you, it had to be, it was your description exactly, and a photo of you, just younger than what you looked like on camera. this little girl in the newspaper, aged four years, yup, it was you. But why was a missing little girl in his homeroom teacher's house? So, he sent it to Ochoco, and asked for her thoughts, who then sent in to mina and tsuyu and momo, and by the end of the day the information was out for the public of class 1-a to see.

Then a groupchat was made, and theories were shared. Of course, they couldn't go to the police about this, because they would be accusing some of the top heroes of a serious felony, and no one would believe them, but they couldn't just do nothing. After all, you just seemed so helpless, so small, like you didn't know how to protect yourself like you needed them to protect you. And they would.

Bakugo proposed just finding where they live and "storming the fuckin house" to find you, but many objected, they would be fighting top heroes, and their teachers at that, teachers that know how each and every one of these students fight. Maybe they could try to talk to you if you just so happen to show up in the background again? but what is the chance of that happening?

Then The person who started all of this conversation, deku, made the best and most effective proposition.

blackmail.

It was a simple plan, one that no one could mess up, that could guarantee results. They wanted to see you, not for a few seconds, not just a glimpse, no, they all wanted to look at you for hours. so that's what they would get. Each student sent the information on you, the missing child posters, the newspaper articles on the mysterious disappearance, everything.

To say the next zoom class with Aizawa was tense was an... understatement. There Aizawa was, sitting in his leather rolly chair like normal, acting like nothing happened, not saying anything, just staring at his students, and they stared right back.

" I understand you all have made a discovery, and I have a reasonable explanation for it" He started, focusing his camera, nobody spoke up after that they just continued to stare, continued waiting for him to explain with his "reasonable explanation".

"You see, my husband and I adopted y/n over the summer when we were visiting the u.s. No one else was going to because of her quirk, so we took it upon ourselves as heroes to save he-'

"Cut the bullshit, I know what I want, and it is not to hear you drone on for an hour. We could anonymously send this to the press, and you'd be knee-deep in accusations." Bakugo interrupted, being specially fed up with the fact that this man that's supposed to be a law-following hero committed such a crime, and doesn't even have the conscious, to tell the truth once found out.

"If anything is released then you will never see her again, I know what she does to people, what she's done to your minds, and I understand it. We could... agree upon something." Nobody wanted that, they NEEDED to see you, and although they didn't know why they knew they did. and they didn't need an explanation.

"I want to see her, every meeting, every class, in person or not. I. Want. To. See. Her." Mina continued Bakugo's sentence for him,

"As her father, I will warn you all, if you so much as think about her in the wrong way, I don't care if you're my student, I will hang you with my scarf." Everybody looked at Mineta's screen after he said this, knowing damn well you weren't ever going to speak to him, nobody would allow it. Not in a million years.

"We would never hurt her. we swear on it"

And with a sigh, Aizawa huffed and scrunched his eyebrows, looking more than upset, looking more than anxious, he looked terrified.

"class dismissed, see you tommorow"

---

"sweetheart? can you come to talk to me and papa for a few moments, you can go back to reading your book in a second, but we need to tell you something" Your daddy's voice piped in from the living room, you'd been lying in bed and reading one of the only books they'd allowed you to have, it was odd that he sounded so serious, they never had that tone with you. so you made your way down the stairs, only to be met with the sight of your parents, sitting on the couch and looking grim.

"Yeah. uh- what's happening? am I in trouble?" you questioned, it was a very rare occurrence that they looked upset around you unless it was getting angry that you were trying to be grown up when you weren't. that was common.

"no baby, weve just been thinking. About how lonely you seem to be when we're working, all you have is the cats and occasionally the birds by the window. So we decided to enroll you into U.A, the school we work at, as a teachers aid" Aizawa lied through his teeth, immediately a smile lit up on your face, you'd been begging them for ages to let you go to school, even if it was just a little low budget school. this was amazing!

"oh my god! really! thank you thank you thank you! I love you so much! when do I start! what classes am I in? will I get to have real friends?" you spluttered out a multitude of questions, the little sparkle in your eye that had been lost for weeks finally had returned, it was cute, and the parents were glad it made you this happy.

Usually, kids would be VERY upset about having to go back to school, like having summer break end, but you were the opposite, the last instance of freedom you had before you stayed home 24/7 was our little middle school, with no parents hovering, no childish teaching methods, just you and school. and then they even took that away. so regaining that freedom was amazing!

" Hold on sweetheart, it's a big step to go from homeschool to high school, so most of your classes will be with us, you'll be in class 1A, and any times where you arent with us, you will be with one of our trusted friends. do you remember ms? midnight?" The minor inconveniences to your newfound freedom didn't dampen your mood.

"that's okay... but can I have friends?"

"Of course sweetheart. as long as we approve, there are so many good boys and girls in my class, you'll love it" Aizawa replied, thinking about the little bastards making him thrust his daughter into the scary new world. fucking bastards. he and Mic caught eyes for a moment, before continuing.

"You start in two days.

be ready" --------------------------------------------------- I swear im not dead, just been working on my drafts so i can clear out my inbox, if you see any grammer flaws, no you didnt.

anyway, this account has 1,700 followers now, and I'm doing a special. someone give me an idea in the comments plz.

have a wonderful day anon! and all those who read! bye bye!

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ask-team-relic-pmd · 2 months

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unclear whether i'm ever going to manage to revive this blog but it haunts me nonetheless so have some old character art i never posted

#ooc post #pokemon mystery dungeon explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd hero #pmd partner #pmd art #pmd ocs #i'm actually really sad that long covid killed this blog these characters mean a lot to me and i want to tell their story someday

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jupi-tercreates · 8 hours

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2020 vs 2022 vs ???

#thinking about doing another updated version #to see my growth #this is hinata my mha oc #good ol' covid art days #myart #artist corner #original art #illustration #digital art #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #original chacter #art

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poppy5991 · 9 months

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Horikoshi: writing a series that explores the impacts of trauma and PTSD on the individual, family, and society with incredible accuracy and poignancy in conjunction with a beautiful meditation on the complexity of morality & the need for empathy to solve society’s ills

People on the internet: this character is irredeemable

Me:

#YOU MISSED THE WHOLE POINT AHHH #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tbh as a first responder who had PTSD from the pandemic I relate really deeply to certain parts of Endeavor’s character arc #horikoshi writes trauma so fucking accurately it kills me #one for all is metaphor for intergenerational trauma #the post-war arc is like a sucker punch to the gut if you worked in healthcare during COVID #makes me wonder if he based some of the writing on pandemic events #endeavor #Shigaraki #lady nagent #hawks #toga #Dabi #it’s the entire reason Izuku is the main character!!!

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asthecrowrambles · 6 months

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finally explored the ending to retribution by sending the puppet to hollow ground and getting puppet stuck and oh my god. ohhh my god ortega played me like a FOOL

its so ironic how sidestep is convinced meeting ortega at the diner wasn't a coincidence, but thinks ortega running into the puppet wasn't planned or intentional

#HE'S SUCH A SNEAKY CLEVER BASTARD I LOVE IT #i think i hauve covid /ref #fhr #i am so so normal about fallen hero rebirth and retribution (lying)#edit: i dont actually have covid just referencing that one joke

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gardenofnoah · 2 years

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cough medicine

i have caught the plague and i want to be babied so this is entirely self-indulgent and fluffy. wc: 874 cw: reader is sick

Kirishima Eijiro's dreams were interrupted by the feeling of damp sheets underneath his sprawled out arm. Rolling up on his side toward you, he reached over and made contact with your back, his large palm rubbing circles over the fabric of your sleep shirt--also damp. You stirred a bit at his touch, rolling over onto your back and trapping his hand beneath you. It made him forget his investigation, his lips turning up-- he could wiggle his hand free, but he kept it there, fingers massaging your skin. His abdomen tensed as he half-sat up to look at you, smirk gone when he saw the way your hair clung to your sweaty face. He leaned over to press his lips to your forehead-- you were fevered.

"Shit," he muttered, carefully maneuvering his hand out from underneath you. He slid out of bed quietly and padded to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet to grab the little "sick kit" you'd kept in there for this exact scenario. He tiptoed back to your bedroom, picking a clean shirt for you from your drawer before lowering himself back onto the bed and reaching out to lay a large hand on your belly, rubbing softly.

"Hi, baby," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. You scrunched up your face and let out a whine, eyes still closed. Eijiro's eyes crinkled and he leaned down again to kiss your clammy forehead.

"Mm?"

"Hi, sweetheart," he whispered into your skin, his repeated kisses and warm hand against your belly causing your eyes to flutter open.

"What time is it?" you grumbled, eyes unfocused and blinking sluggishly.

"Ah, early," he looked at you sympathetically, "are you feeling okay?"

"Huh? I feel fi-" a harsh cough tore through your chest, cutting you off. Eijiro's hand came to settle on your chest when you stopped, and you whimpered. Okay, maybe you weren't feeling too great.

"Could you sit up for me? I'll take your temperature, and I have some medicine. I have a new shirt for you, too."

You shot him your best glare, knowing that it probably looked pretty pathetic. He smiled at you, warm eyes full of concern, and his hand moved to weave itself through the hair at the side of your head.

"I'll be quick, sweetheart," his fingers scratching your scalp making your eyelids droop, "then you can go right back to sleep."

You sucked in a slow, labored breath and brought your arms up, reaching for him to help you sit up. You were surprised at the effort it took. One hand circled around your fingers and pulled them to his chest, reaching behind you to support your back with the other as he gently pulled you toward him. You let out a low groan-- the movement made your head spin and you felt the beginnings of nausea fizzle in your stomach.

His fingers reached the hem of your sweat-soaked shirt and you raised your arms up weakly, allowing him to pull it from your body and pull the new one over your head. You opened your mouth and let him place the thermometer under your tongue, shoving your arms through your sleeves. It sat there, intrusive and awkward, while he pulled the box of cold medicine from your kit and popped out two pills from their aluminum casing. He leaned over, jostling you a bit when the bed dipped, to grab your cup of water off the night stand to hand to you, plucking the beeping thermometer from your mouth in exchange. He looked at it and blew out low whistle.

"Bad?" you croaked. He leaned forward, planting a kiss on your hairline.

"Not great, baby."

"Well stop kissing me then, Eij," you grumbled, head dropping to rest in your hands, "gonna get you sick." You felt his palm on your forehead, gently pushing you up to look at him. He grinned at you and brushed his thumb against your skin.

"I will not. Take these for me?" he held out his hand, and you eyed the large pills. Sighing, you took them from him and placed one on your tongue, grimacing when it scratched your sore throat on the way down. You took the other and handed the water cup back to him.

"Good job, baby. Thank you."

You felt warm then, and it had nothing to do with the fever. You puffed out a breath, leaning forward to press yourself into his chest and tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He brought a hand up to your back, his palm pressing soothing pressure into your spine. The other cradled your head, pulling you closer. "M'sorry you're not feelin' good, sweetheart."

You hummed, eyes closed and ready to go back to bed. He was warm, and his body around you was like your own weighted blanket. You felt him maneuver himself back into the pillows, bringing you down with him to lay on his chest. His hand drifted up and down the length of your spine as you settled in, the beat of his heart against your ear lulling you to sleep. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad if Eijiro was here to take care of you like this.

this fic belongs to me (@b-writes-things). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

#kirishima #eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima comfort #kirishima would be the best nurse #i want him to kiss me on my head and bring me tea #my hero academia #covid is the only reason i am updating like this #i can do nothing else but type my silly words like a little monkey

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silly-hero-plush · 11 months

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he's currently gaming

#guess who's back from a hiatus and goddamn covid #anyways posting will go back to semi-normal!!#||other tags >>#Silly Hero Plush #hero omori #omori hero #omori plush #hero plush #omori game #omori meme #therapy with dr albert krueger #twdak

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peachieprompts · 1 year

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Dialogue Prompt #261

“You’re nothing to me.”

“Interesting how your tune has changed.”

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rubikx107 · 12 days

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They look so alike , like they are the same person 🗿

#dota2 ffogure #dota 2 #dota 2 heroes #covid memes #mcu memes #fypシ゚viral #foryou #gaming #lol #funny memes #funny #fypyes

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raineandsky · 2 months

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Revenge Means Chaos

#80.2 (part 1) (part 2)

Next week. The Lousy Farmer.

The hero flops down at the bar. The bartender eyes him as he slides a pint across the bar to him.

He can't believe he's wasting his evenings like this. Why can't he just leave work at work? Why can't the villain leave him alone for one minute?

The band is setting up on the humble little stage. The hero can see the reason he’s here, plugging his guitar into an amp and fiddling with the settings. The poor guitar looks battered; the hero wouldn’t be surprised if the villain smashes people’s faces in with it on his days off.

The villain scans over the crowd again, and this time his eyes flit straight to the bar to lock with the hero’s.

He throws the hero that stupid, self-absorbed grin again. Hello again, he’s practically saying, I see you’re back.

The hero scoffs into his beer in a way he hopes replies out of obligation for the safety of the city.

The music is similar to last week’s; upbeat, excited, loud. The patrons of the bar sink into the music as they do the drinks, and within the hour a small, slightly drunken dance floor has begun forming in front of the stage.

The dancing proves difficult to weave through. The hero abandons his easy spot at the bar to make their way towards the stage, dipping between stumbling dances as he goes. The villain’s eyes are on him the whole time—the hero can feel them burning into him as he moves.

He reaches the foot of the stage with a huff of relief. He turns his face upward; the villain’s gaze leers down at him, the stage lights haloing him like he’s descended from heaven, his fingers plucking effortlessly at the guitar’s strings.

A smirk—enjoying the show?—and the hero scowls in a wholehearted response—enjoying the part where I’ll whoop your ass.

He waits there until the singer rounds off her last note to the uproarious cheering from the audience. She grins ecstatically, practically glowing.

“Thanks y’all!” she shouts over the crowd. The drummer spins his sticks in his hands with a smile.

The hero saunters to the door behind the little stage—he can cut the villain’s exit off from here and quietly arrest him without causing a scene with the drunken masses. It’s almost too easy.

He carefully holds back the victorious smile before it’s due. He has the time in the world to laugh at the villain on the ride to the agency.

The villain’s gaze flits to him and back out to the crowd as he pulls wires from his guitar. The singer is still talking but the hero blocks her out. His focus rests on the villain with intensity that’s clearly making him uncomfortable. Good. Let him know what’s coming for him.

The villain hops down from the stage ahead of his bandmates, and the hero gets in position to grab for him as he heads for the door. The villain spares him one last glance, adjusts the guitar’s strap against his chest, and takes off into the crowd.

The hero swears under his breath and falls into the masses after him.

People part for the villain, moving aside with a friendly pat on the back. The hero has to battle his way through. The villain breaks through the main doors and into the night as the hero throws himself out on the other side of the horde.

The hero flies out into the evening and almost gets a guitar to the face on the other side. He just manages to duck out of the way, the guitar sweeping much too close to his head. He throws a punch and the villain darts back, that self-confident smirk still twisting his lips.

The hero moves in for another strike. He only gets to pull his fist back when someone grabs him from behind.

“What is it with people attacking the musicians?” someone says from opposite the hero. He can see someone wrangling the villain ahead—a security guard. Perfect.

“He’s– That’s [Villain]!” the hero cries over whatever answer the person behind him was about to say. He thrashes in their grip uselessly, eager to get his hands on his nemesis. “I’m attacking a musician because he’s a criminal!”

The person behind him barks a laugh. The villain has stopped twisting angrily in the security guard’s grip and has been let go of, like he’s earned the freedom. He adjusts his guitar strap on his chest again and levels the hero with a smug gaze.

“Gosh, it’s scary, isn’t it?” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, turning to the small crowd forming at the main doors of the bar. “The agency has people like this protecting our city? He’s insane!”

A few murmurs rise in agreement. Cameras flash, phones get held up. The hero feels sick.

“No, wait, he’s—” The security guard turns him away from the crowd, from the people who’d have a chance to listen “—he’s [Villain], can’t you see that? I need to arrest him before he causes any more damage—”

The security guard gives him a hearty shove onto the main street. “Consider this your warning,” they snap. “Don’t let us catch you around these parts again, a’ight? Or consequences might be a lot harsher.”

“Wait, he’s—”

But the security guard’s already turned on his heel, meandering back to where the villain is basking in the praise of his fans. They usher everyone back inside with the help of the other guard, and with one final clang, the door slams shut on the hero.

Cameras. Phones. The crowd agreeing quietly with the villain.

Oh, the hero’s career is about to go up in flames.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #im so so aware that this has a different vibe to the first part. i wrote this in the throes of covid. i am only 83% coherent #ironic too cause i wrote this with covid and its posting when i have a stomach bug #so apologies to the anon asking for this cause god.

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