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chaotic-orphan · 1 month

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Hi, hope you’re having a nice day!! Love your writing :) Could you please continue heroic betrayal if you’re planning to?? Not to rush you or anything, it’s just got me slightly hooked oops! Thank you!! :)

HEROIC BETRAYAL (6)

Part one here

Continued from here

This part has had so many drafts, so so many, because I couldn’t get Supervillain right at all, and today? For some reason! It all just flowed! So you are in luck! It’s the paddy’s day weekend, struck gold! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in a tense silence that made Hero squirm. The two of them were always chatting, or having banter back and forth. When they fell into a silence it was an easy one that never felt awkward or uncomfortable. Now, with Flynn marching Hero up a set of stairs, it felt as if they were two strangers. As if Flynn was actually a Villain.

He is, a voice sniped in the back of Hero’s mind. Flynn is a villain. The lie was his Hero façade.

Hero kept their guard up as they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs. Hero expected to be greeted with the view of a warehouse, or some top secret villain base. Maybe something from the movies, or an equal to the Hero tower HQ.

Instead, their gaze found a house. Hero frowned, wanting to turn their head and comment on it to Flynn but they didn’t. They refused. Flynn didn’t deserve their comments or thoughts on anything anymore.

“Through here,” said Flynn, pulling Hero to the right. Hero caught only a glance of the framed pictures hanging on the wall, of Flynn and Villain as children and a man and woman smiling in the picture above them. Hero swallowed.

Were they in Flynn’s childhood home this entire time?

It’s not what Hero expected at all. It was clean, almost pristinely so with wooden oak floors and a warm, homely feel to it. Clean and yet lived in.

Hero closed their lips, and just let Flynn guide them through another door into a dining room. Hero’s brows raised to the ceiling, looking at Flynn in question before they could help it.

Flynn curled his top lip inward, his tell for when he was embarrassed. “Supervillain insisted,” he said by way of explanation and brought Hero to the end of the table. It sat six people, two chairs on each end and two on both sides.

Flynn pulled out Hero’s chair and quirked his lips at them. “Can I trust you not to do something stupid?”

“You can always stop me if I do,” Hero replied sweetly, sugared smile not quite meeting their eyes.

Flynn’s smile was cold in return. “I can. Or Villain, whichever is quicker.”

Hero felt that cruel pang of betrayal bloom in their heart like a rose’s thorns wrapped thick around it. Hero didn’t reply to that, they just sat down on the chair lifting their handcuffed hands onto the wooden table and let Flynn push in their chair.

Flynn sat beside them, on their right. Hero could have laughed at the horribleness of it all. Flynn sat on Hero’s right because after endless sparring they had both realised it was Hero’s weaker hand. If Hero was going to do something stupid, going for their right hand side would be easier to subdue than their left.

How had they not seen the warning signs? How had they not realised that Flynn was working against them this entire time?

Hero trusted them. They thought if the world ever went to shit, or turned against them, Hero could turn to Flynn and still find a home in him.

Now all their trust was twisted against them mercilessly, and Flynn was a stranger who could smile at them with a bloodied face — and possibly broken nose — and threaten to have the person who broke it hurt them more.

Hero heard movement and voices behind the two doors in front of them, different than the door that Flynn and Hero entered the room through. There was a lively bustling of movement and then a man in his late thirties, early forties walked through the doors with a wide friendly smile holding two plates of something.

He had wavy brown hair, slightly overgrown around the edges, some strands tucked behind his ears Hero noticed. His eyes were sea-coloured, somewhere between green and blue, but shining with a happiness that Hero didn’t expect of Supervillain.

Then it hit Hero that they were staring at Supervillain. The Supervillain! Hero’s nemesis, their foe— the man who was always one step ahead of Hero. Hero glanced at Flynn, almost mutinously before Supervillain drew Hero’s attention back to them.

Supervillain set a plate of food in front of Hero with a big smile, then walked around Hero and placed one in front of Flynn. It was what looked like roast chicken and green beans and roast potatoes. Hero stared down at it, their mouth watering slightly and a gnawing yearning in their gut for food.

How long had they been here? Overnight at least because it was day time at the moment. Hero looked at Flynn. Flynn glanced at Hero then to Hero’s plate and dragged it over to him.

“Hey—”

“Relax, I’m just cutting up your chicken. You’re not getting a knife.”

Hero waited, watching Flynn cut up the food. Then they sat back against their chair, eyes going to the doors to see Supervillain was gone. Flynn pushed Hero’s plate back in front of them. Then Supervillain came through again followed closely by Villain, a shadow like fist holding something that was dropped in front of Hero. It smacked against the table lightly with a bounce and Hero realised it was a plastic fork.

Everyone else had proper utensils.

Hero waited until Supervillain and Villain sat down before speaking. “If you think I’m eating this, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Supervillain’s smile didn’t dim. “As you like it, Hero. Though, if I drugged you with the chicken or the vegetables I would have drugged us all.”

Hero didn’t move to grab the fork, no matter how much their stomach wanted them to. Flynn grabbed Hero’s plate, “we can swap if you like.”

Hero’s head snapped to him. “And how do I know this wasn’t all some planned ploy?”

“You don’t,” said Flynn honestly, meeting Hero’s gaze earnestly. Hero had to look away before they cried. Stupid fucking Flynn.

“If I may,” said Supervillain, his voice smooth and steady, drawing Hero’s gaze. “If I wanted to starve you, I wouldn’t have plated you up a meal. I would have handcuffed you to the chair and let you smell the food and watch us eat.”

Hero swallowed, gaze hardening into a glare as Supervillain tilted his head and shrugged lightly. “However, if you don’t want to eat I won’t force you.”

Hero sat back stubbornly, eyes not leaving Supervillain as he tucked into his divine smelling meal.

“Flynn said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do,” Supervillain replied. “As soon as we have eaten. It’s bad for the stomach to mix work and pleasure.”

Hero blinked at him, then stared back at their plate. The steam was still rising from it, begging for Hero to eat it. Hero swallowed again, finally reaching for the fork that was discarded in front of their plate.

Nobody at the table made any remarks as Hero took their first bite of chicken. They didn’t even feel eyes on them as they ate, and with every bite the possibility of the food being drugged became less and less important as they filled the hole in their stomach.

All too soon their plate was empty and Hero set their fork back on the plate, sitting back in their seat, satisfied. Supervillain smiled at them from across the table.

“Well?”

Hero swallowed. “Really good.”

Supervillain’s smile beamed at them. “Good. Flynn, would you and Villain mind cleaning up?”

Flynn’s eyes went between Hero and Supervillain, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Supervillain looked at him. It stifled the words in his throat and he nodded and gathered his and Hero’s plate. “Sure.”

Villain did the same with their and Supervillain’s plate. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”

Flynn cast one last look over his shoulder at Hero, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then the double doors shut on both of them and it was just Hero and Supervillain alone.

Hero’s chest got tighter at the realisation. How many times had they longed to get to sit down with Supervillain and pick his brain on his strategies and plans? How long had they wanted to know his motivations behind it all? What the bigger picture was…

Now, Hero wanted to be anywhere but here.

Supervillain leaned forward, elbows resting on the table hands folded in front of him. “Flynn tells me you’re a fan of mine.”

Hero scoffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call myself a fan.”

“Of course,” he replied pleasantly. “A hero would never admire a villain after all.”

“That’s in the job description.”

“Tell me, did you ever admire Flynn?”

Hero’s eyes snapped back to Supervillain. His smile was less pleasant now, more shrewd. Intelligent, inquisitive, intimidating— his eyes narrowed in curiosity, the corners of his lips still quirked into a smile.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He was always a Villain.”

“Yes. However, that is not what I asked you.” Supervillain said lightly, not letting Hero off the hook. Hero swallowed in reply. “Did you ever admire Flynn?”

“Yes,” said Hero patiently. They couldn’t lose their cool now, they had to match Supervillain’s relaxed demeanour. “He was my partner. Obviously I admired him.”

Supervillain let out a breath. “Tut, tut, Hero. He’s a villain. How can a Hero ever admire a Villain?”

“If you want to get into some philosophical debate I’d rather Villain bash my nose against the bars of my cell again.”

Supervillain’s lips pursed. “If you like.”

The words ran like cold water down Hero’s spine. “However,” he continued, “I’d rather pick your brain before Villain rips it from your skull.”

Hero swallowed the lump that was rising in their throat. How can he be so nonchalant about telling Hero that he had no reservations about Villain killing them? It isn’t anything like Hero thought he would be.

“You wouldn’t let them,” said Hero licking their lips, making an effort not to make a face at the taste of salt and iron of dried blood dancing along their tastebuds.

Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. “No?”

“No,” Hero echoed then swallowed. “Even if you did let Villain hurt me or torture me, or whatever, you wouldn’t let them kill me. You’d rather draw it out slowly.”

Supervillain raised his hands, elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them as he stared at Hero. His sea green eyes looked stormy now, the twisting murky colour piercing through Hero’s soul. His smile was anything but friendly now.

Now, he looked like Supervillain, like Hero expected him to be. Confident, perspicacious, formidable. This was the opponent Hero had been playing alongside across the city for months now. Hero noticed their heart beating faster in their chest.

“And you say you’re not a fan,” Supervillain said, a perceptible knowing coating every smooth syllable.

“I’m not a fan of you hurting people. Killing people.”

“And yet it’s all you heroes ever seem to respond to.” Hero’s retort died in their throat. “If it takes violence to goad you out of your precious hero tower, then I will resort to violence.”

Goading? What goading? Hero’s brows furrowed down over their eyes, shadowing them slightly as their mind ran over Supervillain’s words.

“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed fondly. “Flynn said you have a look when you’re trying to solve a riddle, this must be it.”

“I don’t have a look,” Hero spat, ignoring the blush that coloured their cheeks.

“Of course you do, dear Hero. We all do. That’s why in poker you have to learn to mask your tells.”

“Are we playing poker, Supervillain?”

“No, hardly. Though I’d wager I could win your money as easy as it took me to tank that developmental property on seventh.”

Hero hope their glare was burning a hole through Supervillain’s skull until they realised they were playing right into his hands and dissolving. Hero licked their lips and leaned forward in their chair too, hands clasped on the table in front of them.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? You wanted me to follow Villain. You wanted them to catch me,” Hero said. Them was much easier than saying Flynn out loud.

Supervillain smiled appraisingly. “Yes.”

“And bring me here to meet you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Supervillain’s eyes flashed, something glinting within them. “Because Hero, I’ve wanted to meet you as much as you’ve wanted to meet me.”

Hero held up their cuffed hands. “Couldn’t have done it more civilly?”

“Oh please,” Supervillain scoffed, resting his palms flat on the table and pushing his chair back. Hero’s heartbeat quickened as Supervillain stood up and started making his way slowly, predatorily slowly, towards Hero like a cat playing with a mouse. Hero wanted to not move, to not show him the effect he had on Hero, but their body didn’t get the message. The closer Supervillain came to Hero the more they shrunk back into the chair, hands braced on the table ready to spring to their feet and — and then what?

Supervillain stopped beside Hero’s chair, one hand on the back of it, the other hooking a finger around the small length of chain that kept Hero’s wrists locked together. He pulled it up, Hero’s arms going with it involuntarily until Supervillain held Hero’s arms up high over their head.

Hero grit their teeth as their shoulders strained from their sitting position.

“We both knew one of us would have to be in chains for us to be able to chat,” said Supervillain tilting his head. All friendliness had melted from his face leaving a cold grin and hungry eyes feasting off the sight of Hero at his table. “I just decided it wasn’t going to be me.”

Hero tugged their arms down suddenly but they may as well not have for the lot of good it did them. Supervillain leaned down, his face close to Hero’s as he grinned.

“You should have struck first, little Hero. Then maybe the roles would be reversed, but as of right now—” Supervillain’s eyes darkened. “I control the board.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill

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peony-plum · 10 months

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Madness over took me

#elder scrolls #oblivion #hero of kvatch #shivering isles #elder scrolls fanart #dunmer #elder scrolls oblivion #sheogorath #butterfly #female madness #my art #oc hero of kvatch #oblivion art #tes #hero turned villain

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the-broken-pen · 3 months

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Six months ago, when the protagonist had first appeared in the middle of the villain’s compound, scrawny and half feral, the villain hadn’t thought much of it.

And then it happened again.

And again.

The villain thought something of it.

“Let me work with you,” they had begged. The villain was almost certain the protagonist was homeless. “Please, I have powers, I can—”

The villain said yes.

Maybe it had been whatever remnants were left of the villain’s stupid heart. Maybe it was the chocolate donut they had that morning. Maybe it was the desperation coming off the protagonist in waves.

Maybe they were just bored.

They paid it no mind.

The protagonist did have powers, but they were minor. The kind you see in small children, the first in a bloodline to mutate powers. Their great grand children would wield enough power to level buildings, be heroes and villains and everything in between. But for now, they sat in preschool classrooms and summoned the tiniest spark of flame.

The protagonist, trembling like a fawn, sweat slicking their brow, seemed to be one of those children. Albeit an older version.

Not useless, exactly. They had a startling affinity for picking locks—which explained the ability to get into the villain’s compound—a willingness to fight anyone, and a lack of fear. But they weren’t exactly the most useful sidekick the villain could have picked.

The villain wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, though.

Their stupid, half dead heart, it seemed, cared for the protagonist.

So, when the hero set out to kill the protagonist, the villain knew they would do anything to keep them safe.

They caught the hero’s hand, twisting to shove them backwards a step, and they felt rather than saw the protagonist wince.

“Violent today, aren’t we?”

The hero was seething, and it unsettled something in the villain. The hero was unstable, yes. But the villain had never seen them try to kill someone before; they hadn’t even considered the hero might try.

They dodged another blow, the hero’s power blasting apart a building behind them. Their spine prickled, and they dropped to avoid the next hit.

“Just itching to go to prison for homicide, hm?”

When the hero didn’t even attempt to respond to their half-assed banter, the villain’s gut roiled.

“Protagonist,” they said between breaths. “Leave. Now.”

“No.”

They managed to throw the hero to the ground, risking a glance at the protagonist. They were covered in dust, supersuit dirty and torn across one calf, but their feet remained planted, shoulders set. “You heard me. Go back to the compound—“

The protagonist’s eyes widened, and the villain knew they had turned away for too long.

The villain went down hard, ears ringing, as the hero shook out their fist.

“Stop it,” the protagonist’s voice cracked. They took a step forward, wavering like they weren’t sure if they should run or fight.

“Go,” the villain coughed, and the protagonist flinched. They rolled onto their back, struggling to stand as the hero’s power flickered dangerously.

The villain knew, innately, that the next hit would kill them.

The villain sucked in a painful breath.

The hero lunged.

And the protagonist, voice wrecked with fear, screamed, “Dad.”

The villain’s heart stuttered.

There was a flash of light.

In front of them, panting for air like they would never get enough, was the protagonist. The hero’s fist was planted against their chest still, and the villain could tell it had been a death blow. Anyone, even the villain, wouldn’t have survived.

And yet—

The protagonist stood, unharmed.

“Dad,” they said again, and the hero didn’t quite flinch, but it was close. “Stop.”

The silence was deafening.

Something in the hero’s jaw tightened.

“Move,” the hero said lowly. The protagonist didn’t falter.

“No.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“What exactly will you do to me if I don’t listen,” the protagonist gave a sharp laugh. “Hit me? You tried that already.”

The hero sucked in a breath.

“I am your—“

“You are my nothing,” the protagonist corrected. “Certainly not my father. You lost that right when I was eight.”

The villain managed to push themselves to their feet.

“That was stupid,” the villain murmured, but it didn’t have any heat to it. “You couldn’t have known that would work. You had no idea if you could survive a hit like that.”

The protagonist very pointedly did not turn around, shoulders tense.

“I did,” their voice was strained. “He lost the right to fatherhood when I was eight, remember?”

The hero didn’t say anything, but the villain thought that might have been shame creeping its way across their face.

Oh.

The hero—

The villain had been harboring the child of the most powerful being on the planet for six months. A child the hero had tried to kill, or at the very least, hurt.

Their heart stuttered.

They had been harboring the most powerful being on the planet, their mind corrected. A drop of blood slid its way down their spine. Power grew with every generation, and with the hero already so powerful, any child they had would be something close to a god.

“You said you had mild telekinesis,” the villain said numbly. The protagonist half turned to look over their shoulder, eyes shiny.

“My mom,” the protagonist. “I got it from her. The rest…”

From the hero.

The protagonist scanned the villain’s face.

They were searching for signs of violence, the villain realized. The protagonist wasn’t afraid of the hero anymore; no, the protagonist had seen the worst they could do. But somehow, the protagonist had begun to care for the villain. And they were terrified the villain—the person they trusted the most—was going to hurt them over a secret. The villain could see it all, scrawled across the protagonist’s face clear as day.

The villain was going to kill the hero. Painfully.

“Protagonist,” the villain kept their voice even. Gentle. Slow. “I’m not mad. And I’m not going to hurt you.” Their eyes slipped past to the protagonist to the hero.

“Him, however, I will be.”

The protagonist worried their lip between their teeth, and the villain watched as their power—their true power—sparked along their shoulder blades.

The villain stepped forwards—

“Don’t,” it was little more than a whisper.

The villain stopped.

The protagonist slid in front of the villain once more. “Just,” they raised a hand, as if taking a moment to choose their next words. “Stay.”

The villain stayed.

When the protagonist’s attention turned back to the hero, it was bloodthirsty. It spoke of war, and hatred, and revenge.

“You’re going to leave,” the protagonist’s voice was sharp enough to cut skin. “And you aren’t going to come back. I don’t care if it’s because you don’t want to, or because you know that if you do, I will kill you and I’ll like it—you won’t come back.”

The hero swallowed.

“The city needs me.”

“You are a plague to this city, and I am ridding it of you. Get. Out.”

The hero stumbled a step backwards, as if they had been hit. Their expression twisted.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” the protagonist seethed.

They all knew the protagonist meant it.

The hero was halfway down the block, news vans and reporters scrambling their way onto the scene with cameras raised, when the protagonist called after them.

“Oh, and Dad?” The cameras snapped to them, and the protagonist grinned. It was vicious—it looked like the villain’s. “Parents who abuse their children don’t get to be heroes. Especially not you.”

They waited a beat, two, three.

The press exploded.

Above the din, power crackling around them, the protagonist mouthed two words.

“I win.”

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patchworkorphan · 4 months

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Heroic Betrayal: part one

Hero followed the villain through the winding trees, arms braced in front of them at the oncoming bushes and branches they had to wade through before they got to a clearing.

Hero stopped, breath hitting off cold air, surrounding them in smoke. They listened for any sound but heard nothing.

Then – there.

A sudden movement.

Hero bolted after Villain again, hot on their heels as they sprinted after them. Villain was so close. Hero had to push a little faster. Hero reached out to grab Villain when someone knocked into them from the side. The trees extended above Hero, the world seeming to stretch as they fell.

Hero’s head hit off the frozen ground hard, rattling their brain, the world growing hazy for a moment. Hero’s assailant landed on top of Hero and while Hero was momentarily stunned, they sat up, knees straddling Hero’s hips effectively pinning them. Hero swung a closed fist up, but their wrist was caught, and their attacker pinned the other to the ground as well.

“Well, well, well. As I live and breathe, Hero. It’s been a long time.”

Hero would recognise that stupid drawl anywhere.

“Flynn?” Hero asked, their brain trying to catch up with their mouth. “What are you doing here? Get off me! Villain’s getting away.”

“I know,” Flynn said with an easy smile. “I’m meant to distract you.”

Hero’s blood ran cold. “What?”

Flynn tilted his head down at Hero.

“I didn’t hit you that hard, did I? If I want you to not remember something I won’t beat the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he said, leaning down to get closer to Hero, whispering, “I’ll take it.”

Hero threw all their weight into their hips, as they shifted, rolling Flynn off them so they were on top.

“As you like it, sweetheart,” Flynn chuckled. Hero threw a fist out and this time it landed.

“You’re a traitor?” Hero breathed when Flynn smiled up at them. “You’re one of them?! That’s why supervillain knows every move before we make it…”

Flynn put his two hands behind his head, grinning up at Hero with a charming smile. “I always did love when the mystery was solved in the end. Especially by you, that look on your face.”

“We were friends!” Hero snarled, fists grabbing the collar of Flynn’s shirt to make him listen. This wasn’t some game or joke they could just disregard. How could they be so calm? This couldn’t be happening. Everyone loved Flynn, everyone. He was always so nice.

“We are friends, dear Hero.”

“Not if you do this. Not if you’re one of them. Sidekick got hurt because of you!”

“And they’ll heal, won’t they? I warned them not to be put their nose in other people’s business.”

Hero sagged a bit. Their grip loosening.

“Are you going to take my memory?” Hero whispered quietly.

Flynn’s gaze softened and he put a gentle hand on Hero’s wrist. “No. I would never use my powers on you. It would take away all the fun.”

Hero’s eyes widened in surprise.

“But… but I know now. I’ll tell Superhero— do you want to be found out?”

Flynn’s smile turned secretive, like he knew something Hero didn’t. “No, you won’t.”

Hero stared at him; mouth open in silent confusion. Which all ended when they felt cold metal press against the back of their skull. Flynn beamed at someone behind Hero, then fixed his smug gaze on Hero’s eyes.

“You won’t because you’re coming with us.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

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writing-to-survive · 3 months

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#176

When the villain offers the hero a place next to them in their evil ways, the hero always refuses. But this time, the hero snatches at the offer. They let dark thoughts consume them. They find evil being much more fun than their old heroic actions. The hero gets so good at being a villain that they become better than the original one who gave them the offer.

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whump-in-the-closet · 11 months

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Motivations for Whumpee-turned-Whumper/ Hero-turned-Villain

Revenge. Anger burns away at them. There’s no rest, no sleep at night. They hate the world and the world hates them. It’s their own personal hell and the only way out will be paved in their enemy’s blood. Time to sharpen that blade, polish those knives. Someone is going to pay.

“Divine” Justice. Closely related to Revenge, but this time they think their enemies deserve the punishment. They see themselves as being entirely in the right. Justice is blind, isn’t it? Well, their enemies will never see the light of day again. It’s only fair, to take what their enemies took from them.

No Choice. There’s the cold, detached metal of gun to their head. The creeping intimacy of knife to their throat. Free will? How about a hissed, “Do as I say”? They make others suffer and in return the pressure at their throat relents. It’s a kill or be killed world after all.

Convinced. Should they? Should they not? The pros and cons are weighed and found wanting. The Villain is starting to make a lot of sense— and really, what is morality but the following of one’s conscience? Morality is biased. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe they’ve been on the wrong side all along.

The End Justifies the Means. Sure, it’s wrong but just wait. Pulling out this person’s teeth will give us the information we need. If that doesn’t work, we will flog them. But in the end, it’ll be okay, because we will have the information. What’s one life compared to many?

You Created a Monster. Their name, once one their friends called down the hall, is now a threat half-whispered. That name is a hallmark of fear and terror. Everyone knows who they are and what they’ve done. They disappeared for a while, but they returned dripping with scars and someone else’s blood. Who knows— if someone had held them while they screamed— if their friends had lived— maybe they wouldn’t be who they are now.

#am i working on this instead of the cyoa #indeed i am #work and exams are killing me #so here i am #writing whump prompts #whump prompts #whump writing #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump ideas #whumper turner whumpee #hero turned villain #cw mentioned mouth gore #cw mentioned flogging #cw torture

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villainsandheroes · 7 months

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Still a Chance

Give me a hero who suddenly gets paired up as a team with someone who is clearly better then him. The issue is Hero is early thirties and knows how to play the game. Their partner, the better ones, is 19. It was an insult to begin with to suggest they needed help. But as they listen to their partner talk they wonder how on earth they became a hero.

They still have that light in their eyes, the jingle in their laugh, and the hope in their words. They aren’t destroyed by the horrors of the job.

Hero becomes a villain to try and save them.

#whump community #whumpblr #whump #hero #hero turned villain #whump writing #heroes and villains #whump prompt #hero and villain #hero and hero #hero partners #not sidekick #na #equals #villain?

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wonder-vixen · 3 days

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#comet girl #pandora gold #next global crisis #assert films #female superhero #superheroine #heroine #good girl gone bad #hero turned villain #female villains #super villain #supervillain #web series #blonde #brunette #supervillainess #villainess #super criminal

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heroes-villains-side-blog · 1 year

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Fluffy cape 🧸

Inspired by this prompt by @thepenultimateword

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“Welcome to Villain Con! Happy to see so many villainous faces this year! I hope my presentation does your future career at my company justice — Let’s begin.”

After the presentation and 10 minutes for questions and application forms, Villain was pleased to leave the conference room with a healthy stack of papers.

This had been one of their best presentations yet! And the candidates all seemed so charming and sinister too!

Villain went back to their booth at the career fair and took out their lunch. There was still an hour to go till the convention ended, and they already had over forty applications. Would it be in poor taste to go through them right now?

Maybe.

So they decided not to chance it.

For lunch, they had gotten an apple, a few shawarmas, and some coconut biscuits. Their food proudly sported their organization's packaging, which hopefully would let potential candidates know that they provide free food to all employees.

They were halfway through when their peripheral vision spotted a figure of light blue stroll up toward them.

“Hi. May I have an application form?”

Smile, Villain remembered. They looked up with their practiced nonthreatening soft smile, hand already reaching out for a form when they froze.

It was a hero. Very clearly. Cape and all.

Before they could blurt out “Scatter” for their fellow convention-goers, the do-gooder held up a special convention badge and a power-suppressing cuff.

“It’s okay! I have permission! See?”

The badge said this hero had been vetted and had permissions to attend the convention due to their potential to join the dark side.

"That's… I didn't know they gave cards like that… Or they vetted… or that they let heroes in at all…"

"Yeah," Hero gave a nervous laugh. "Had to go through a super long process…"

Villain nodded weakly.

"And costly too." That seemed to be a rough point for Hero.

All Villain could say was "Oof."

"Haha, yeahhh…"

Awkward silence.

"Well!" Hero began, in their Hero voice they used for civilians. “May I have an application, Mx Villain?”

“Um… are you really looking to join the dark side?”

“Yup! Didn't pay for this convention badge for nothing!”

“Why? Why the change of heart?” Villain was unsure but handed them one of the forms anyway.

“Oh, you know. The usual.” They filled it out on the table, and Villain couldn’t help but notice the way they dotted some of the i's with hearts, or that sometimes they ended their sentences with smiley faces, or — OKAY, THAT WAS ENOUGH PRYING!

Villain let the applicant, because that’s what they were right now, fill out their form in privacy while they sat down and finished their lunch.

“HERO?” said someone and everyone’s head turned first at the speaker and then at where they were staring.

“IT’S OKAY, EVERYONE! I HAVE A BADGE, SEE?” But it didn’t matter because a million smoke bombs burst from all directions till only Hero, Villain and Other Villain (the speaker) were left.

Hero sighed.

“I cannot afford the convention fine for this,” they mumbled.

“HERO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Other Villain had taken out their weapons but were holding them loosely, like they were holding a piece of paper and not deadly apparatus.

“Hi, Other Villain. I was applying for a henchman job. What about you?”

“YOU? A HENCHMAN? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

“I’m leaving the hero business. See?” They held out their badge that had failed to pacify the convention-goers, something they had been clearly threatened against.

“And you didn't tell me? I thought we were nemeses!”

“We are! Er, at least, we were? I honestly haven’t told anyone I’m leaving the biz, it’s not personal, believe me.”

“It just… it’s fine. Never mind, it’s fine. I don’t care.” They… sniffled?

“Don’t be like that, Other Villain!" Hero went up and put an arm around them. "I didn’t mean it! I just didn’t want anyone to find out till everything was set in stone, y’know?”

“Fine, fine, whatever. I don’t care.”

"Other Villain, I didn't mean it like that." But they weren't listening. They had started walking away, head down and wiping at their face.

"Sorry, Villain. Duty calls. Let me know if there's anything more you need for my application, yeah?"

Hero then ran after their ex-nemesis, ready to wrap them in their cape made of soft fluffy faux fur just for this purpose.

... Fin? 💼🧸

Notes:

Tried to be gender neutral but had to work with what Canva gave me :/

Yes, Hero's cape is soft and fluffy and made with actual pillow covers!

Yes, the ending is rushed on purpose. Not feeling most of my snippets so just gonna post them to clear them out. So the endings will be rushed, like this one. (sometimes you just gotta stop being a perfectionist so you can move to other things, y'know?)

I also realized while working on this that I've never actually been to a career fair :/ idk what happens there, I just guessed here, no research :/

-------------

Writing journey:

Turns out I like the vibe of and prompts of fluffy oblivious x smitten, but turning it into a two-way relationship is just not my thing. Not even a qpp. Just can't do relationships lol. My characters are gonna be oblivious x smitten or smitten x not smitten for life.

For this, I tried to go for an actual beginning, middle, end, but I had more fun with the convention card and now want to tangent from the fluffy prompt into more world of heroes and villains intricacies, like more documents and domestic interactions, and more into the reason why Hero has decided to give up heroics (idk why yet lol, I think I had a reason but forgot). It's just more interesting to me to write something plot-y or ridiculous or dramatic with a side of crushing, than trying to write 2 characters' journey to a romantic relationship. Just not me.

Shout out to @just-a-space-rabbit for the idea of Other Villain's reaction.

And to @world-of-fire-and-flight @tratieisdabest @eahravinqueen @just-a-space-rabbit because I was excited and proud of the card and showed it to them :D I showed it to more people coz I just love it so much!!!!! 🤩🥰💞💞💞

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hurtmyfavsthanks · 7 months

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Whumptember day 20

“We can’t all win” Failure | City in ruin | Boot on throat

Content warning: implied mass murder

Villain couldn’t tear their eyes from the burning city.

It looked like something from a disaster film. Cars were burning, buildings were crumbling, and everything seemed covered in a thick layer of ash. The world was silent, and that was far worse than any screaming could ever be.

Villain stood, utterly numb, on the last building left standing. Besides them stood the person responsible.

“You were right about this city,” Hero said, voice horace. They sounded close to tears. They didn’t avert their eyes from the destruction. “It was corrupt down to its roots. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but you were right the entire time.”

Villain’s throat was too dry to respond. They felt like they couldn’t breathe.

“I tried for years to ignore what you were exposing. I pretended you were just cherrypicking a few bad actors, that the problem was surface level and easily solved. I was wrong,” Hero shook their head, eyes distant. “But you were wrong too. You can’t threaten and blackmail that kind of issue away. That level of corruption can’t just be cleaned up. You have to pull it out. Burn the fields, wipe the slate clean and try again.”

Hero’s head turned to face Villain, and the sudden movement was enough to jerk Villain from their stupor. For the first time, Villain looked at Hero. Their once white uniform was stained with blood, traces of it spattering their face. Hero’s eyes were filled with tears, full of grief, and yet Villain couldn’t see a hint of regret.

“You were always trying to improve this city, even when they called you a monster for it. You understand what it means to make something truly good, and you were trying to show the world that,” Hero gestured to the destruction around them. “There’s nothing in the way now. We can do something great here,”

There was no bitterness in Hero’s expression. No anger, no resentment. There was only hope, burning and genuine, the look of a hero looking forward to a better future.

It terrified Villain.

Hero outstretched a bloody hand to Villain. They smiled, soft and sincere, as the world burned around them. “You’ll help me, right? We can make a better city.”

Villain knew what they should have done. They should have lashed out, refused to work with a mass murderer and stand on what few morals they had left. They should have fought back.

But they didn’t. They didn’t dare to. Instead, Villain took Hero’s hand without a word.

#Whumptember day 20 #whumptember 2023 #whumptember #Hero whumper #villain whumpee #(close enough? That villain sure is distressed so im counting it)#whump #tw: death #tw: murder #city in ruin #hero turned villain

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chaotic-orphan · 3 months

Text

Heroic Betrayal: part five

Read part one here

Continued from this point here

*~*~*~*~*

What kind of idiot were they to be stuck here? Hero should have told Sidekick when they got the tip about Villain… they should have told them that they were going to rough Villain up a bit, get the information they needed on Other Villain’s whereabouts and beat the shit out of them. Just a little revenge for touching a hair on Sidekick’s innocent head.

Even if they managed to catch Villain and mete out justice on Other Villain, they would have beaten the ever-living shit out of the wrong person, and that was something Hero didn’t want to think about in that moment.

That Flynn…

Their Flynn was the one who put Sidekick in the med bay.

Sidekick, who was still in the med bay, where Hero should be, but no. Instead, they were here, powerless and bleeding and it was all their fault.

Hero didn’t know how long they sat and stewed on that thought. Long enough that their nose stopped bleeding anyway. Hero tentatively reached up to their upper lip, their hand came away from it dry, the blood caked and flaked onto their face now.

“What happened to your face?” Hero angled their head down from where they stared at the ceiling to see Flynn standing on the other side of the cell bars.

“Fuck off, Red,” Hero grumbled, and fought the wince at their casual nickname for Flynn slipping out of their lips. “I’m not in the mood.”

A jangle of keys and the cell door was open, footsteps approaching Hero in their cot in the corner. Hero’s heart ached with every beat as Flynn came into their line of sight, concern drawing his features together.

How many times had they seen that same concern on his face? Told Hero it was going to be okay. Cleaned their wounds, laughed about the bruises the next day?

How much of it was a lie? — Hero wanted to ask. The question burned a hole on the tip of their tongue, but they didn’t dare speak it. They just stared up at the ceiling as best they could.

“What? You piss someone off already?”

Hero sighed. Flynn sat on the edge of the bed, moving closer to Hero, his hands going to inspect the damage like he so often did. It made something ache in Hero’s chest. Hero slapped their hands away, tears burning in the back of their eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Flynn,” Hero bit out. “You don’t get to betray me and then pretend to be my friend and concerned about me.”

Flynn stared; eyes sad as he said: “okay. Guess I deserve that.”

“You deserve so much more,” Hero said, eyes burning with hatred, voice barely above a whisper. “How many of our friends died because of you? Hmm?”

“Hero, not all of it–” Flynn began then stopped, huffed out a breath of air through his nose, hand running through his hair. “Not all of it was a lie. I am your friend. I do care about you.”

“Oh really? Then you’d never use your power on me, right?” Hero demanded, echoing back Flynn’s words against him. Flynn had the audacity to even look guilty at that, and Hero leaned forwards, hands on Flynn’s as they said: “I forgive you, okay. I forgive you if you let me go. Flynn, please.”

Flynn’s eyebrows knit together, clearly conflicted but he said nothing. After a moment, Hero let out a breath of disbelief and sat back against the wall again.

“Yeah,” Hero scoffed, “we’re friends.”

“You have blood all over your face, Hero. You really want to just leave it?”

“Why the hell not?” Hero said, trying to force their tone into some form of neutrality.

Flynn sighed and stood up from the cot. “Supervillain wants an audience with you. I was sent to retrieve you.”

Hero rolled their eyes but got to their feet no less. “Of course,” they said, pushing past Flynn to the door. “God help you actually wanted to see how I was doing.”

“Hero—”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Let’s just go.”

“Hero that’s not—”

Before they could get the fourth word out, Hero had whirled on them eyes blazing hotter than any hells furnace.

“Fair?!” They asked incredulously, their voice jumping two pitches at the sheer audacity of the word on their lips. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Flynn didn’t back down this time. Instead he stepped forward, looking down his nose at Hero.

“Yes. That is what I was going to say.”

“You are unbelievable!” Hero snapped matching Flynn with a step forward of their own. They held their cuffed hands up in Flynn’s face as if to remind him exactly why Hero was there in the first place. “If you’re my friend you’ll take these off.”

“Hero you know I can’t—”

Hero didn’t let him finish. Instead they placed their palms on Flynn’s chest and shoved them as hard as they could. Flynn looked about as bothered as if a fly had flown into the room.

“I can’t uncuff you Hero,” Hero said, lowering their voice to mimic Flynn’s and shoving him back again. “I can’t let you go Hero.” And again. “I can’t fucking think—” shove “for myself” shove “Hero.”

Hero glared up at Flynn trying to fight back the frustrated tears building behind her eyes. Anger was easier to focus on in the moment rather than that vast aching pit twisting uncomfortably in their gut.

“But I promise I’m your friend, Hero,” Hero mocked, shoving him back again until Flynn’s back hit off the wall. Flynn’s eyebrows curved down and it left a pang in Hero’s chest that they hated. “And then you have the gall to look hurt. As if I betrayed you.”

Hero ignored the tears that fell at the last sentence, or at least tried to. They tried to be firm and act tough, but saying the betrayal out loud, acknowledging it when it was just the two of them was too much.

“Would you trust me if the roles were reversed?” Hero asked, not even wanting to look at Flynn for the answer. The more they saw the conflict on his face the harder it was to hate him. Flynn however, didn’t take this into consideration when he put his hand on Hero’s face and tilted it back to face him.

Hero narrowed their eyes at him, pushing every ounce of anger into their gaze hoping they would turn into actual daggers and stab him.

“No,” Flynn breathed softly, thumb wiping away the tear streaks from Hero’s face. “I wouldn’t trust you if the roles were reversed, but I would hear you out of you tried to explain it to me.”

“And if I took you to Supervillain?!” Hero asked, their voice low and furious as they stepped out of Flynn’s touch. “The enemy we’ve been trying to stop for months?”

“You.”

“What?!” Hero demanded hotly.

Flynn’s gaze hardened, his face devoid of all emotion now except for his usual mask of easy confidence, smirk on his lips as if he didn’t just wipe Hero’s tears away.

“The enemy you’ve been trying to stop for months,” Flynn said again taking a step forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Hero matched his step with one back, cautious, hackles raised. “I mean the man you borderline obsessed over, Hero. Don’t you want to meet the genius who eluded you, the great detective, for all that time?”

“Not particularly,” Hero said through gritted teeth, with another step back that Flynn matched, getting closer and closer each time.

“That’s what you called him though, right? A genius,” Flynn teased, his grin showing his teeth. “I mean, fuck, Hero some of the moves he made you were damn right impressed with. You even said you’d have done exactly the same thing if—”

“I was in his position,” Hero cut Flynn off. Flynn’s smirk grew wider as he took another step closer, dipping his head conspiratorially.

“Now you can be,” said Flynn with a wide gesture of his hands. Hero followed his hand to the cell door that they happened to be right beside. Hero was keenly aware that Flynn was backing them towards the door the whole time. “Even just for the intellectual stimulation if nothing else.”

“Go fuck yourself, Flynn. I’m not willingly walking into the Lion’s den.”

Flynn’s eyelids fell half over his eyes. “It is less dignified to be dragged, Hero, but if you insist.”

Flynn made a grab for Hero’s arm but they dodged at the last minute, turning to shoulder Flynn out of the way. Flynn didn’t so much as budge from his spot. Instead he caught Hero by the strap of their scabbard and yanked them into Flynn’s chest.

“The hard way, wonderful. I wouldn’t expect any less of you Hero,” Flynn said, wrapping an arm over Hero's chest and keeping them close as they stepped out of the cell, pushing Hero forward with their own body weight. “Let's go introduce you to Supervillain.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The orphanage roll call (tag-list): @shywhumpauthor (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

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gale-gentlepenguin · 1 year

Text

You know what I dislike about the hero turned Villain au’s? A lot of them completely invert the character, making the hero super confident, flirty and bad boy/girl Smooth

Where are my hero turned villains that are still socially awkward? What about my villains that can’t flirt to save their lives. Just because you kill now doesn’t mean social interaction isn’t scary

#hero turned villain #villain au’s #the point is to be the character as a villain

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puddleslimewrites · 9 months

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Heroes Don't Have Hearts (Prompt #13)

That was the first lesson, taught on the very first day of training. Hearts - feelings, emotions - bring weakness. You don't need a heart to do your job. You don't need a heart to smile for the cameras and crowds.

And you most certainly don't need one to help you sympathize with the enemy.

Superhero had defected - to the Villains' side, no less. Not because of love or some misplaced familial loyalty, but because they had sympathy. They felt bad for the other side, and when the agency wouldn't listen to their ludicrous ideas, they left.

They left a dent in the mold that had been built around them. The agency's most prized possession - gone overnight. They left a new generation of heroes on unsteady footing, lost without the guidance of their most experienced predecessor.

Hero hated Superhero. They hated them for the rules and guidelines implemented after they deserted. Before, heroism was a revered career path. Heroes could be as loved as the love they gave to their people. Those who quit their jobs were few and far between, but defectors were present in any organization. There would always be outliers.

But Superhero's disappearance was more than a simple retirement. They'd created a world of cracked smiles and false proclamations of loyalty. They'd created advanced safety measures and restricting patrol hours. They'd created a system where everyone watches your back, and the feeling was more uneasy than reassuring.

Superhero left. And Hero despised them for it.

tags below cut

Tagging: @world-of-fire-and-flight (because of the WIP Files game from literal months ago :')) Even if you don't see this, thank you for expressing interest ^-^

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thegirlwholived1213 · 1 year

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hi! I heard you write villain x hero prompts, maybe a hero-turned-villain that's trying to get hero to stop being the martyr, and just live happily ☆

I really should be typing up Appendicitis Pt. 4, but I just haven't had the motivation. Lots of you want it, so I'll try to get it up tonight, but for now have this! Thanks for the ask Anon, I had a lot of fun.

“Hey boss, Henchman is here to see you. You have a, uh, visitor.”

Villain scowled, gaze lifting from their work to Sidekick at the door.

“Tell them I’m busy, I’ll reschedule.” Villain truly wasn't sure who was here at this late hour but figured they must have forgotten an appointment.

“Well, sir, you see…”

“Come on, Sidekick, out with it..!”

“It’s Hero, sir.”

“...what?”

“It’s Hero, they snuck in.”

“Hero? Like Hero, Hero? Aren’t they all the way..”

“Yes, I’m not sure why they’re across the city.”

“Yes, well…send them in.” Villain reached into their desk drawer, placing their mask over their eyes.

Sidekick nodded, opening the door to let in Henchman who towered over Hero and easily yanked them into the room by the upper arm.

“Sit.” Villain gestured to the armchair opposite their desk and Henchman shoved the crime fighter into the cushioned seat. Hero’s eyes burned into Villain’s as Villain stood.

“Leave us.” They held their hands in front of them, suit folding neatly under their hands as Henchman and Sidekick exited, leaving Villain alone with Hero.

“So, what do I owe the… pleasure.. of your visit, Hero? You’re pretty far from your sector.” Villain walked lazily around the desk, catching Hero’s wrist as Hero sprung up to strike. They pulled away, anger twisting into fear, and Villain tilted their concealed face.

“In fact, I’m not even sure I’ve met you before, Hero.”

Villain reached up, pulling off Hero’s own mask. Villain traced their young features, index finger grazing their jawline over a cut they must have received breaking in. Hero straightened and pulled away, trying to yank out of Villain’s grasp.

“You haven’t spoken, kid. Cat got your tongue?”

They only glared, and Villain pulled away their own mask with a sigh. The hero visibly paled, trying again to pull away.

“Hero?”

Villain shook their head. “It’s Villain now.”

“They- they said you were dead…”

“Suprise. Will you sit now, or do I have to stand here and hold your hand?” Villain’s eyebrows raised and Hero slowly sat into the seat. Villain crossed back to their desk, pulling a water bottle from the drawer and tossing it to Hero who fumbled with the bottle as they caught it.

“Why-”

“Why am I giving you help? Kid, my fight isn’t with you. This isn’t even your sector, plus you look like you’re barely out of high school. What are you even doing picking fights you can’t win?”

“Superhero told me to,” they answered, warily uncapping the bottle and taking a sip before chugging the whole thing in three big gulps. “But what happened to you? You… you weren’t a villain, you were one of us.”

“Yeah, trust me kid, with the shit I’ve seen you’d be a bad person too. My recommendation? Go home.”

“No, I can’t just go, Super-”

“Now you listen to me.” Villain’s tone darkened and Hero immediately silenced themselves, shrinking into the chair. Villain sighed, pulling a hand over their face.

“The last thing this city needs is more kids out fighting Superhero’s battles. Go. Home. find a normal job, and settle down. Go finish school. Trust me, the benefits you might be told you’ll receive after your time is up aren’t worth it.”

“But-”

“Shush. Do you really think that, in the unlikely situation that you survive past thirty and manage to retire, people like me won’t still try and pick fights with you?”

Hero’s mouth opened and closed, a response caught in their throat.

“Exactly. Go. Home.” Villain stood, crossing the room and opening the door. Hero hesitated, standing.

“I can have you escorted, though if that is necessary I cannot promise that the cut on your jaw will be your only injury.”

Hero sighed, walking out the door.

“Henchman will show you out. I suggest you don’t come back, I’ll have Henchman drive you home.” Henchman nodded, placing a much gentler hand on Hero’s shoulder than their previous grasp.

Villain watched the hero leave, hoping that the Hero would listen to them and take the chance that Villain never had.

#villain #villian trope #hero x villain #villian x hero #villian quotes #hero #hero trope #hero turned villain #whump drabble #whump prompts #whump ideas #whump tropes #whump writing

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