#villain writing

[midgardianqueenreturns]

The annoying thing about “ugh why can’t we have more irredeemable and unsympathetic villains, all villains get redeemed or are sympathetic these days” discourse is…most stories that have redeemed or sympathetic villains also have at least one irredeemable villain with 0 sympathetic qualities. Name a redeemed villain and I can often also name another villain from the same story as them who doesn’t get redeemed. For every Darth Vader there’s a Palpatine. You say “not all villains can be Zukos some of them should be Ozais” but miss who the obvious Ozais already are in favor of calling for the Zukos to also be Ozais.

#Villains #villain writing #villain discourse #Redemption arcs #redemption discourse #redemption arcs discourse #fandom bs #fandom nonsense #fandom problems

[caker-baker]

Peace

“You look beautiful.” The villain murmured, their lips light above the hero’s knuckles before letting go.

“You look hideous.”

It warranted a laugh from the villain, leaving the hero to wonder what was humorous in this situation.

“Shall we?” The villain extended a hand.

And in those fineries that the villain had prepared for them, the hero knew there was no other option than to take the hand, and to dance.

Dance they did, gliding across the floor in a beautiful grace, one might be breathless if they were actually watching.

But the hero knew that they weren’t watching, they were just there, dolls under the villain’s control.

“Do you have to have them here?”

“The other villains and heroes? Yes, I want them to see you.”

“But they don’t see me, not really, not when you’re in their heads.”

The villain made a humming sound, thinking of how best to phrase it.

“Think of it like a trance, they are there, they just can’t move.”

Ah, the hero was wrong. It just made the villain’s ability more horrifying, knowing that their friends were in there somewhere, trapped and waiting to get out, waiting for someone to save them.

And save them they would, the hero just needed to keep dancing.

So they let themselves be dipped, twirled, waltzed around while some lovely orchestra played some lovely song.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to do that to me?” The hero asked. “Rather than…” they couldn’t say it.

“Control the rest?” The villain could say it, of course they could. “I guess it would be. But I don’t want to, not to you. I respect you too much. I love you too much.”

“Don’t say that.”

The lovely song ended.

“What shall I say instead?”

“Say that you’ll let them go.” The hero pleaded. “Say that you’ll end it all.”

Another lovely song began, and the hero, somewhere in the back of their mind, wondered if the orchestra was also controlled by the villain, or if they were just paid handsomely.

The villain didn’t speak for a moment, they simply pulled the hero into another dance.

“I could have taken this whole city by storm.” They began. “I could have each and every civilian in my mind’s influence, and it would be painfully easy. Is that what I’m doing? No. I’m dancing with the person I want, in the place I want, surrounded by people we consider friends, the people who fight pointlessly. I want them to see that I could have stopped them all, that the fighting isn’t a choice so long as I’m here. The city’s greatest enemies in the same room together, and they have no choice but to listen. I’m not a villain, Hero.”

Ok, maybe the villain wasn’t doing the worst thing they could have been doing, but it didn’t make their methods anymore right. It didn’t make this right.

“And you think this is how you get it done? What’s next, world peace?”

“I don’t care about the rest of the world, I care about my corner, I care about this city.”

The second lovely song ended.

“Now what?”

“Now, there’s no more squabbling, they know that there will be consequences.” The villain shot the crowd of heroes and villains a look. “Now, I love how I like, and how I like is with you.”

The hero really didn’t know how to respond, so the villain continued.

“Do you remember fighting me? Back when I could only control one person at a time? The others,” they motioned to the heroes. “always had a group of four, for when I inevitably turned one against the rest. You came alone, you didn’t want to fight your own team, so you faced me by yourself. I knew I couldn’t control you then and there, I would never want to risk destroying the compassion and personality that I so rarely see in the others.”

The hero frowned. “The others have personality, compassion, kindness. That isn’t unique to me.”

In turn, the villain stared. “I’m in their heads, Hero. You shouldn’t lie to me on their behalf. I know the things they think, the anger they have, especially towards you.”

That made the hero step back. “Towards me?”

“They assumed I held my punches when it came to you. It didn’t matter if every other villain didn’t, because I did, and that was enough to earn their…hatred isn’t it, but it’s turning to hate now, as they see you with me, not stuck like them.”

“I didn’t ask you to let me go free.”

“Did you hear that?” The villain said, the message directed towards the frozen crowd, all the while still looking at the hero. “They didn’t ask for my affections, nor did they ask me to do this to you.”

The hero didn’t want to ask, but they wanted to know. “Do they still hate me?” And then another thought crossed their mind. “Or are you lying to me so that I’m swayed to your side?”

“There are no sides, Hero, that’s my whole point.”

They held out their hand for another dance, but the hero refused.

“Let them go, please.”

The villain cast a sweeping glance towards the crowd.

“And you will stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is as you wish.”

The crowd began to move again, some in marionette like movements, jerky and delayed, others more fluid, jumping back into the motion denied to them like an old friend.

But no one attacked each other, no one went towards the villain or the hero, no one dared to cross the one who could easily take control like that again.

“My gift to you, peace in the city. And now, we dance.”

The hero took the villain’s hand.

A third lovely song began.

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #snippet #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villainess #writing #heroes #this one was in the drafts so #until I finish some requests and the leaf one #hero writing #villain writes #villain writing #hero writes #mind control #mind control snippet #no editing we die like men #currently digging the grave as we speak #but aha! Twas all a ruse! we aren’t speaking at all! #I’m sorry I think the melatonin is working

[chaotic-orphan]

VENDETTA IS 💃🏽💅✨❤️‍🔥🔥 SCRUMPTIOUS (I heavily dislike emojis so me using them at all really says something)

Vendetta: part V

Read part one here Continued from here

First of all I want to thank everyone for their support with this series, it is my little baby and I love Hero and Vigilante so much, I'm glad you like them too!

My exams for college start on the 12th until the 21st so this will (probably) be my last update until Christmas time where I plan on bulk writing and publishing weekly, or bi-weekly, updates to series so I will put a poll up tomorrow where you can vote for what series are your favourite to let me know which ones to spend more time on.

Thank you again for all your kind words for vendetta, but especially this anon whose comment made me giggle. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

“Hero.”

Hero didn’t stir.

“Hero.”

Hero was comfortable. Warm. Cozy. They didn’t want to move, they really didn’t.

“Hero,” more pressing this time and Hero let out a sigh.

“Mmm?”

A hand was in their hair then on their cheek, gentle and soothing and warm.

“Open your eyes,” the sweet voice coaxed and Hero obeyed. They were met with two brown eyes so dark they looked black in the dim hut. “There. Now. Show me where you are.”

Hero froze as they became fully conscious and the hand on their cheek went to their chin, gripping it hard and wrenching Hero’s head up.

Hero recoiled back suddenly, squeezing their eyes shut and it felt like they were falling, falling, falling.

“HERO!”

Hero gasped awake, heart drumming in their ears like an unending drone as they sat up suddenly away from Vigilante’s arms.

“Hey. Hey, Hero. It’s okay! It was just a nightmare. You were screaming, it’s okay. I’m sorry I startled you, c’mere.”

Hero was drawn back into Vigilante’s warmth. They were shaking like a leaf, tongue heavy and obstructive in their mouth, unable to form words or a coherent sentence.

“Sssh, it’s okay. I got you.”

Hero sat in Vigilante’s arms for a minute or two, calming their breathing before they spoke.

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” they mumbled and Vigilante squeezed Hero tighter to them, pressing a kiss into their hair.

“I did too,” Vigilante admitted. “It’s not the worst thing for healing, you know.”

“I know but— Supervillain… they were here.”

Vigilante stiffened behind Hero. “What?”

“They— I mean, it felt like they were here. I could have sworn he was… I mean it was probably just a nightmare, but it felt so real.”

Vigilante moved their hand from where it wrapped around Hero, moving their hand to rest on Hero’s cheek, turning them to face them. They smiled down at Hero, and then pressed a soft kiss against their lips. It was short and sweet and it made Hero feel safe and loved.

“We’ll get Supervillain, Hero. We won’t let him win.”

Hero tried for a smile and failed, instead they nodded, “I know. We should get moving. Try and find Superhero.”

“Okay.”

Vigilante released Hero and Hero leaned forward, looking down at their knee. The bandage was bloodstained already. How long were they asleep? It was daylight outside again, shining into their little trench hut.

“I should change the bandages before we go again,” said Hero. Vigilante was off the bed and got the med kit returning it to Hero. “Thank you.”

“Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Hero’s heart fluttered at Vigilante’s easy words.

They changed the bandages quickly, quicker than last time anyways. Vigilante’s hands were a little more sure and when they wiped the wound Hero was happy enough that the wound wasn’t going to get infected. They would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

They just needed to find Superhero and regroup.

Everything would be fine.

Vigilante handed Hero their twin scabbards harness which they affixed to their back and hip. Hero released a content sigh when the weight of their twin blades returned. It felt like they could do anything with them and Vigilante by their side.

Vigilante lead the way out of the hut and fashioned an invisible ramp that they walked up and onto the battleground again.

It was eerily silent.

There was no noise. No bullets flying or screaming or crying or anything, it was just… quiet. Hero looked over to where they fought Assassin and saw her lying still in a pool of black blood.

“Where do you think Superhero will be?” Vigilante asked, glancing to Hero and following their line of sight to Assassin. Vigilante stepped between Hero and Assassin’s body, reaching forward and tilting Hero’s chin up. “Hey. It’s okay, Hero. I need you to focus.”

Hero blinked at Vigilante. When the words registered in their brain they sighed and shook their head. This wasn’t the time to get emotional.

“Right. Sorry… they weren’t at the Guild, which means— well, I thought it meant that they would be out fighting here, but…”

“But there’s no one here,” Vigilante said.

“Yeah. Which now makes me think our best bet would be the Guild.”

Vigilante frowned. “Do you think they’re still alive?”

“They have to be,” Hero said. “Plus I don’t think Supervillain would be private or gracious if they killed Superhero. If Superhero was dead, Supervillain would probably have them hung on a flagpole or something outside the Guild.”

“But what about all the villains that swarmed the guild? Didn’t you say there was an evacuation plan?”

“I— yes,” Hero sighed, rubbing their eyes. “But I think… I think it’s our best option. Our only option. I’d rather take on a swarm of Villains than be out here and searching for Superhero who we may not even find. There’s still Heroes at the guild. If Superhero’s not there maybe we can help them instead.”

“Okay. Back to the Guild then.”

Hero nodded. “Yeah.”

Hero stepped forward but was stopped by Vigilante’s hand snaking around their waist and turning them to face Vigilante who smiled their cheeky smile down at Hero. The smile was contagious, goofy, and Vigilante looked so young in that moment. As if they were just on a hike with a date and wanted to be romantic in the natural scenery. They pressed a hand to Hero’s cheek, thumb under Hero’s chin tilting their head up and leaning down to kiss them.

Hero almost floated when their lips met. It was gentle and soothing, then it was passionate and aggressive so much so that Hero thought Vigilante’s lips would leave a bruise on Hero’s but they didn’t care. They responded in kind, wrapping their arms around Vigilante’s neck and drawing them closer, a hand going to Vigilante’s hair and Hero smiled against Vigilante’s lips as they felt Vigilante nearly float away too.

It was everything they couldn’t say to each other. Something words wouldn’t cover properly or even hint at. Vigilante nipped at Hero’s lower lip and Hero opened their mouth willingly, letting Vigilante deepen the kiss, wanting to stay here like this forever.

The certainty of being wanted, and knowing exactly what they wanted. It was bliss.

Everything they needed in their embrace, between their breaths, their lips, tongues and touch.

Hero could have died in that hut and being with Vigilante in that moment was heaven. No worries, no concerns, only that passionate certainty.

But they were still alive.

They still needed to breathe.

Vigilante was the one to break the kiss, pressing their forehead against Hero’s, their soft breath fanning Hero’s cheeks.

“I love you, Hero,” said Vigilante, tightening their grip on Hero’s waist. “I want you to know that. In case—”

“In case nothing,” Hero replied. Not even daring to think like that for a second. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. I love you more than the world, and if Supervillain wouldn’t have a hit out on me then I would have run away with you. Somewhere quiet. We could just be me and you, no heroes and villains and vigilantes. Just us.”

“Hero—” Vigilante said but it came out half sad, half strangled.

“No,” Hero sniffed. They didn’t realise they had been crying until then, because what if this was their last chance together? What if this was it forever? Hero had to say everything, everything they loved about Vigilante. They had to know just in case. “No, I need you to know.”

“I know,” Vigilante whispered, thumb wiping away the tears streaming down Hero’s face and sniffing in return. “I know. Maybe when all this is over, we can just give up. We can go. Together. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Hero sobbed and sniffed, trying to console themselves. “Yes.”

“Okay. We have a plan now. Guild first, save Superhero, defeat Supervillain and then retirement. Easy.”

“Easy,” Hero laughed, wiping their eyes with the back of their hand.

Vigilante took Hero’s hand in theirs and interlocked their fingers, and it felt like Hero was grounded. Back on earth, back in their body. There would be no just in case. Hero wouldn’t let Vigilante die. They tightened their grip on Vigilante’s hand.

Vigilante would live, Hero promised themselves then and there, even if Hero had to sacrifice themselves to make sure of it.

*~*~*~*~*

Without teleport they had to walk back to the Guild. They didn’t meet anyone on the way, no heroes or villains or anyone in between.

“Hero…”

“I know,” Hero said. “They’re probably all at the Guild.”

“Do you think Supervillain’s there?”

Hero swallowed. It felt like their throat was made of sandpaper, not wanting Hero to say the words out loud because then they would be true.

“Yeah. I do. I think he was there this morning.”

“This morning? You mean—”

“Yeah. When I saw him in my nightmare. He was in the hut with us, he wanted to see where I was. Tried to get me to open my eyes and show him.”

Vigilante stiffened as they walked, squeezing Hero’s hand in theirs. “Do you think he raided the Guild and when he realised you weren’t there—”

“Yeah. He looked for me another way.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” Hero said without any real meaning behind it. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. Their friends dying around them wasn’t okay, Doctor, who didn’t even fight, dying trying to protect Hero.

None of it was okay.

They didn’t voice any of these thoughts. What was the point? Vigilante knew, Hero knew. Still they walked hand in hand.

They continued in silence until they saw the lights from the Guild, the sun was only starting to set but it was still dark. The autumn blues bright, with shards of red glaring through the sky.

Hero’s shoulder twinged the closer they got to the building which used to bring Hero so much comfort. Its high walls and beautiful artwork. The Guilds magnificent marble arches and the colourful gardens where they trained. It was home, and right now home had fires burning the grass in the gardens and a giant hole went through the medical wing where Doctor’s body was.

All this for what?

How many dead?

“We’ll go through the medical wing,” said Vigilante, dragging Hero from their thoughts. Hero looked up at them, memorising the half far away expression on their face when they were thinking, planning. Vigilante caught Hero staring and shot them a grin. “It’s our best chance of not getting detected.”

“You’re probably right.”

“And if I’m wrong we’ll find out quickly.”

“Exactly.” Hero reached up and cupped Vigilante’s face in their hands bringing them down for a kiss. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Vigilante said with mischief glinting like diamonds in their eyes. Hero pulled away but Vigilante caught their hand and kept it pressed against their cheek for a moment longer. The gesture damn near broke Hero’s heart. They were acting like they would never be able to do this again, and they can’t. They shouldn’t.

They can’t face Supervillain half defeated.

“We’ll win,” Hero told Vigilante. Vigilante pressed a kiss against Hero’s palm, and then their knuckles before giving it back.

“I know.”

They moved quickly after that, Vigilante leading the way, showing Hero the way down and how the Villains got in without being detected to blow the hole in the medical ward.

Hero swallowed down a sob when they saw Doctor's coat, a spear sticking from his chest. Vigilante was moving ahead of them, taking a sheet from the bed and draping it over Doctor's body.

"We'll bury him properly after, Hero," said Vigilante taking Hero's hand and gently pulling them forward passed Doctor’s body. "We need to keep moving."

“I know,” said Hero, resting their other hand on the hilt of their sword. They’d avenge Doctor.

When they got to the door, Hero cursed under their breath as they touched the solid wall. “Fuck. I forgot Medic sealed it when we were here.”

Vigilante kicked the door but it didn’t crack or break.

“They fused it to the wall, it’ll all be as solid as each other.”

“If only we had Bomber here now, huh?” Vigilante asked with a slight laugh. Hero let out a laughter of disbelief.

“I never thought I’d have to break into the Guild, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” Vigilante echoed with a cheeky grin.

“Here we are,” a third voice said behind them. Hero and Vigilante turned on their heel, eyes settling on Villain ahead of them. Hero drew their swords immediately, fear gripping their heart like a hand had reached through their ribs and squeezed it. “So nice to see you again, Hero. We didn’t get to finish our little conversation last time.”

Villain inclined his head at Vigilante, his chocolate curls falling over his forehead, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Supervillain is not happy with you, Vigilante, but good news. You’re both to be brought in alive. Did we assume you were stupid enough to walk straight into the Guild? No, but the sentiment is appreciated.”

“Villain,” Vigilante said, voice calm and low. “You don't have to do this. We don’t have to fight.”

“Mmm,” Villain hummed, his deep melodic voice rumbling a vibration through the air. He lifted his chin higher, cool eyes holding Vigilante's gaze. “Vigilante… I want you to know… I liked you. You were one of the few people I could tolerate, but like? That’s a whole new level of betrayal.”

“Villain please," Vigilante pleaded with a cautious step forward, hands raised placatingly.

“If it’s any consolation I’ll ask Supervillain to spare you. Save your begging for him. That’s as far as my mercy will extend Vigilante...” Villain said, their voice didn’t break but there was some kind of emotion at the back of it that Hero couldn’t identify. Villain's eyes went to Hero. “Then again... I don’t know if it will be considered a mercy.”

That was the last thing Villain said before Hero screamed. Hero reached up and grabbed their bandaged shoulder where Villain had shot them last time they fought but it felt like there was something inside it, something ice-cold, trying to break out from under Hero’s skin.

“Hero!” Vigilante yelled, but their voice was distant as Hero clawed the bandage off their arm trying to get the thing inside them loose. Hero felt Vigilante’s hands on them but it burned and they stepped back out of their hold and fell, their knee buckling under them and Hero was still screaming.

“Villain! Stop!” Vigilante cried, but Villain didn’t respond, they just kept their cold eyes trained on Hero as they wailed and screamed and cried.

The thing finally broke free from Hero’s skin and Hero let out a whimper of pain as they clutched the reopened wound, warm blood trickling between their fingers. Hero glared up at Villain, the motion making them sick. Villain stood emotionless, cool eyes on Hero, the shadow from Hero's shoulder slinking around his fingers like a pet mouse.

“We can do this the easy way,” said Villain nonchalant. “Or we can—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before a wall of rubble was slamming into him. Hero got to their shaking feet, almost falling again but Vigilante had an arm on their elbow helping them up. A cold sweat washed over Hero as they stood, and they shivered, their hair sticking to their forehead.

“Hero, are you—”

“I’m— yeah, I’m… I’m okay. I’m fine. Are you—”

“Yeah,” Vigilante said, but Hero knew from their tone that they weren’t. Maybe Villain was Vigilante’s version of Superhero, and Hero couldn’t imagine fighting having to fight Superhero. “I’m fine. We should go.”

Hero kept their swords out, just in case, as they started walking back the way they came. "If Villain was surprised that we were here that means that we were right and Supervillain raided here and didn't find me. We should check the-"

Hero looked over their shoulder at Vigilante and stopped walking towards the hole in the wall. Towards freedom. Vigilante hadn't moved a muscle from where they helped Hero get back to their feet. Their body was tensed, but Hero could tell from the way they were trembling that Vigilante was trying to break free from something. To fight something unseen to Hero.

"Vigilante?" Hero asked, voice barely above a whisper. Petrified eyes found Hero’s with a resolute hopelessness as they let out a soft "Fuck."

"Vigilante?" Hero asked again, concern lacing their voice.

“Villain has me. I can’t move.”

Hero looked back to where Villain was under the rubble, but Villain wasn’t there. Hero turned back to Vigilante, running towards them and skidded to a stop when they saw Villain materialising out of Vigilante’s shadow.

“You are fast, Vigilante,” said Villain, putting a hand through Vigilante’s hair and yanking their head back. “But I’m faster.”

“Let them go!” Hero said, voice hard, at the same time that Vigilante said: “Hero run!”

Villain scoffed, drawing his gun and pressing the barrel under Vigilante’s chin. “Come on Vigilante, we both know Hero won’t leave you here, so let’s make this easy on us all, hmm?”

Hero swallowed hard, but they were already lowering their swords at the threat.

“Hero please, please—”

Villain shoved the gun against Vigilante’s chin silencing them effectively. “Vigilante hush. Hero and I are negotiating.”

“Villain—”

Villain rolled his eyes at Vigilante’s blatant disregard of his instruction. “Okay. Fine. Here’s what we’re going to do, Vigilante, if you speak again I will shoot Hero in their good shoulder.”

“Please Villain, let them go, please! Hero leave me,” Vigilante cried but Hero couldn’t even if they wanted to, they were rooted to the spot. They couldn’t move their trembling legs if they tried. Blood didn’t run through them anymore, it was lead and concrete keeping them stuck.

This couldn't be happening. This had to be a nightmare. Maybe they were still in the shack in the trench and Vigilante was beside them trying to wake them up, or sleeping soundly beside them unbeknownst to the horrors happening in front of Hero's eyes.

It was a dream.

It had to be a dream. Anything else was too horrible to even consider, and yet Hero knew this was real. That they did wake up and come here with Vigilante. That Villain found them and caught Vigilante. That a tear was rolling down Hero's cheek at the sight, because they promised themselves they wouldn’t let anything happen to Vigilante.

Hero sheathed their swords. It felt like the executioner’s axe falling on their heads but they couldn’t do anything else.

“I’ll come willingly if you let Vigilante go.”

Villain’s cool gaze went to Hero, drinking in their blazing eyes and defiant words. “Darling, you’ll come willingly if I drag Vigilante along with us kicking and screaming. I think I’ll take the two for one special.”

“Hero…” Vigilante whispered, despair colouring each syllable black and dull. Villain smiled at Hero over Vigilante’s shoulder, letting go of Vigilante’s hair and Vigilante could finally right their head to look Hero in the eyes.

It was almost too much to bear to see Vigilante’s eyes but neither of them could chide the other too harshly. If the roles were reversed Vigilante wouldn’t run... even though Hero would want them to.

“Your power dampeners Hero,” said Villain, holding out a long arm, brown curls falling over his forehead casting shadows over his eyes.

“I don’t have any.”

Villain smiled. “If you want to be difficult I can just knock Vigilante here out and let you carry them to Supervillain.”

“Hero,” Vigilante said, “it’s okay.”

“I really don’t have any,” Hero protested, throwing their arms wide. “You can search me if you want. I lost them when I was fighting you and Other Villain.”

Villain hummed. Then realisation dawned on them and they scoffed, “oh, I do remember you dropping them. No matter. I’ll just have to trust you.”

Hero blinked at Vigilante who stared right back at them. Villain grinned at the exchange.

“I know neither of you are telepathic, but all the same, I’d rather we have our conversations in public. What was that look about, hmm?”

“Just thinking you’re dumb,” said Vigilante easily. Villain let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“Oh that’s cute. That’s funny, Vigilante," Villain said with a bark of laughter, voice deadpan as they continued: "I genuinely missed your humour, so witty. That was a good one, but look, I have a better one.”

Villain lifted their gun and aimed it towards Hero. Vigilante jerked forward, pushing Villain’s arm wide as they fired the gun. Hero flinched at the sound while Villain laughed again, pressing the barrel back against Vigilante’s temple.

“Hero, dear. Tell Vigilante to calm down or you will carry them to Supervillain.”

“Okay! Okay, Villain you made your point,” Vigilante huffed. Villain rolled their eyes for Hero’s amusement.

“What do you say, Vigilante?”

Vigilante scrunched their lips up then let out a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“There now. Remember your manners or the next shot won’t miss Hero,” Villain said, letting Vigilante go finally. Vigilante took a step forwards only for Villain to slam their hand out, grabbing Vigilante's arm and stopping them from moving further.

“Hey what’re—”

Villain slapped Vigilante on the head lightly to stop them talking and after a beat he let go of Vigilante.

"On second thoughts, I don't trust you not do something stupid Vigilante, so, Hero find me a bandage and some medical tape."

Hero looked at Vigilante who lowered their gaze in defeat and gave Hero a small nod. Hero walked to one of the bedside lockers and got a large roll of dressing and the medical tape that Villain wanted before walking over and handing them to Villain.

Villain took them with a grin.

"Thank you, Hero," then turned and dragged Vigilante's hands behind their back and tied them. Villain wrapped the bandage around Vigilante's hands and wrists locking them together in a cocoon, then wrapped the entire roll of medical tape around the bandage before tossing the empty roll over their shoulder. "That should do it, Vigilante try and escape quickly for me."

Vigilante obliged, the muscles tensing in their arms and shoulders as they tried to pull their hands back around to their front but they couldn't. Villain shot a grin at Hero, cool eyes curving up happy with malicious glee shining behind them.

"Wonderful. Let's not keep Supervillain waiting any longer. After you Hero."

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (tag-list lmk if you want to be added or removed <3): @micechomper @aarika-merrill

#writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing #orphan writing #whump writing #vendetta #vendetta part five' #hero x vigilante #vigilante x hero #clever villain #scary villain #intelligent villain #creepy whumper #whump #emotional whump #war whump #hero villain whump #hero villain war #heroes vs villains #hero v villain #whumpblr #hero whump #hero whumpee #hero writing #villain writing #villain mentor

[slxsherwriter]

Might Just Save You Yet

Fandom: 2001 Maniacs, Robert Englund characters

Pairings: Hinted Buckman x female reader

Word Count: 2,905

Warnings: This whole movie serves as a warning

Author's Note: *throws hands up in the air* I guess this is a thing? Englund characters won't leave me alone. But really, as fucked up as this movie is, there's a charm to the character that there shouldn't be and damn it, Robert makes him likeable to a degree. Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta & @tinalbion Hope you guys enjoy! There are two other ideas coming for this fool.

When you woke up just as the two in front had decided to take the detour, you briefly wondered how the hell they had made it into college in the first place. The detour sign was not official, and it didn't take a genius to see that. Because the jagged wood, painted letters, and backward lettering itself, it could not have possibly been any more obvious. But, the three knuckleheads you had somehow gotten stuck with to make it down for Florida for spring break had decided that the detour sign had to be followed.

“Seriously? Are we really taking directions from a homemade detour sign?” Anderson chuckled softly.

“Ah, calm down. It's nothing you gotta worry about.” Nothing.. lord help you the man that you called a brother was an absolute idiot at times. How you were related remained a mystery.

“When we are all disembowed in the back woods with no one coming to ever find us, don't blame me.’

“Jesus Christ, way to be over dramatic. This is why you have no friends.” You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe if you were a little more mindful, you could actually get a girl to pay attention to you, Nelson.” The other two laughed as you gave it right back to their friend. You probably should have just stuck with your original plan to fly down to Florida. You weren't staying at the beach house with the boys. No, a week-long externship had come up at a clinic that exclusively worked with veterans, and you had jumped at the chance. It wasn't like you were going to do anything besides relax and maybe draw some while on spring break anyway, and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Anderson had told you that they were driving through, so he and his friends would pick you up instead. He had said that he wanted to see you. Part of you suspected that Corey and Nelson, friends of his since middle school, had wanted to take another shot at hooking up with you. Like damn dogs, they continued to bark up that tree every so often.

“Like you would know what it took to get a guy anyway. You're an uptight bitch.” You swallowed a retort, knowing that nothing you said would help the situation. Anderson finally jumped in.

“Hey, hey. Okay, there's no need for that now. Everyone just calm down. Besides, look, there is a town right here.” He pulled up slowly, easing off the gas as you made your way through what seemed to be an abandoned town. Everything looked like it was right out of a history book. Maybe it was a reenactment setup? They had plenty of those scattered in odd locations. You had a few friends who took it very seriously and had brought you along on a few. Enough to recognize it.

“Seems like a ghost town.” Of course, as soon as that left your brother's mouth, the car pulled up to what appeared to be the center of the small town, and suddenly, there were people everywhere. Music was playing, and they were all cheering. Almost instinctively, you curled a little further down in the car. That was far too much attention for your liking. An odd sense naggled at your brain, but it was something that you ignored, attributing it to the fact that you were now all the center of attention.

“So much for a ghost town,” you mumbled, though the guys were too dumbfounded to really be paying attention. Still, manners dictated that you didn't entirely hide, trying to offer a polite smile.

“Welcome to Pleasant Valley!” The man that stepped forward had an air of authority to him. He paused as if waiting for a reaction from the four of you, and when he got none, he leaned forward with a small laugh. Everyone in the mass who had surrounded was cheering, and it died out just as quick when there wasn't a response. The guys were entirely caught off guard, and you were suffering from a little case of the nerves. “Well, don't be a wet ding dong, fellas,” he offered as he hurried around the side of the car towards your brother.

“Buckman's the man, mayor’s my game.” He was standing beside the car now and finally seemed to notice you sitting in the back seat, and that seemingly impossible wide smile broadened further. “Now, why don't cha'all here, give us a big howdy due..hmm?” His hand was held out to Anderson, and in the blink of an eye, the older man had practically yanked your brother out of the driver seat with ease. Shaking hands, your brother remembered some manners.

“Anderson Lee, nice to meet you, sir.” Corey and Nelson were exchanging looks that could easily be deciphered as get a load of this. He managed to introduce you as his sister, but when he attempted to offer the names of the other two, Buckman interrupted.

“Lee Anderson, Lee. My, my, my. What a beautiful surname. Ya'll ain't from the south now, are ya?” You decided to jump in.

“Yes, sir. Born and raised. We were raised in South Carolina. Anderson decided to go north to school. I stayed a little closer to home, in North Carolina.”

“Then ya crossed over to the other side, I see. Well,” he hummed and glanced towards you for a second as he tipped the front of Anderson's hate. “Well, we might just save you yet.” Anderson wasn't sure how to take the comment judging by the confused look on his face. The crowd moved in a little closer as Corey and Nelson got out of the car, leaving you the only one in it. Which meant you had to get out. Slipping from the car, you held your bag close. Buckman turned his attention from Anderson back to you.

“You see, ya'll arrived just in time to be our honored guests at the Guts n’ Glory Jubilee!” The banner was hard to miss. Red, white, and blue, it hung just over the crowd that had gathered behind Buckman. The cheering started all over again, and you couldn't help but smile. Was it a little off? Maybe. You could have arrived in a backwoods town, one of those off grid sort of deals. Or these reenactors were seriously into their business. Either way, there was a light atmosphere. That nagging worry remained in the back of your brain, ignored still.

Corey was murmuring to Nelson, causing you to reach out and smack at his arm.

“Don't be rude.” They rolled their eyes, but their attention was diverted when a scantily clad woman walked up to the mayor. You blinked for a second as the woman instantly flirted with the two beside you. Buckman had shifted over you subtly in that time, inching closer as the boys had their full attention on Miss Peaches.

In a whirl of activity, more individuals showed up, including the car that you had met up with at the last gas station. While your timetable was tight, you didn't want to be disrespectful or rude. At least that was your reasoning for staying while the boys were only thinking with their lower brain.

It wouldn't be so bad, right? The air was crisp and clean. The heat hadn't fully set in just yet, leaving you comfortable in the quiet outdoor setting. There was a rush towards the hotel because apparently rooms were waiting. Another oddity. You had slipped towards the back of the pack and opted to enjoy a little peace, finally away from the boys. Besides, this seemed like a lovely spot to settle in and maybe do a little sketching.

“Well, darling, just what are you doing out here?” You had found a spot under one of the trees closer to the edge of town. Settled down, you had lost track of the time that had passed. It must have been at least a couple of hours, judging from where the sun was overhead. Buckman was standing just a few feet from you, hands in his pockets and observing.

“Oh, I'm sorry, sir.” Smiling, you hoped that he wouldn't have seen the act of you seeking some solitude as an affront to the hospitality that had been offered. “Been with my brother and his friends for a day and a half. Wanted a little peace, and it's just so nice out. Well, I wanted to take advantage. I didn't mean any disrespect to you or Mrs. Boone by it.” There wasn't a hint of anger as he strolled closer.

“Ain't nothing to be worried about. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright. Everything is alright, isn't it?” You relaxed further against the tree after having gone a little rigid when he first found you.

“Absolutely.” You wanted to ask what the deal with the setup was, but figured if it was one of those off the grid communities, you risked offending him. So, with all those southern manners you were raised with, you offered compliments instead. “You seem to have a little piece of paradise here. The town, the land. Seems like it really lives up to its name.” Buckman stood just a little straighter at that, hands coming from his pockets.

“What a sweet talker you are.” You laughed. “We pride ourselves on our little town. It's very kind of you to notice all the work that we put in.”

“Give credit where it's due.” It had made a great subject for your artwork.

“Well, I hate to interrupt a lady at peace, but dinner is going to be ready soon, and Granny Boone is expecting all our guests.” That was the moment that you realized that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. Quickly, you tucked away your pencils and closed your sketchbook. A brush of your pants had you free of any debris that remained on the ground.

“Dinner sounds wonderful.” You were surprised when the man offered his arm out to you. Deciding there wasn't any harm to it, the offer was taken. The walk back to the hotel was pleasant. The man asked questions every so often, centered around you. There was a certain charm about him that you found endearing and oddly attractive. Maybe it was because it was harmless. You wouldn't be here long, and surely nothing could come of it.

“Sounds like a noble cause, helping those that have served their time.”

“I don't know if I would call it noble. It's…just the right thing to do.” Buckman hummed for a moment before opening the door to the hotel for you. “Thank you.”

“It's not something most these days seem interested in, is all. Focus seems to be elsewhere for most.” That was something that couldn't be argued, and you conceded the point. “Why don't you go on and sit down, now. Dinner's almost ready.”

“Anything I can help with?” Just as you asked, an older woman appeared, all smiles just like Buckman had been.

“I won't turn down a helping hand, even if it is a guest. You mind setting the plates out, dear?”

“Not at all.” You took what she had in her arms and she motioned to send you away towards the table, only catching the briefest hint of low tones as if the two had waited for you to step away to talk. It was either your imagination or truly a private conversation. Shaking your head, as if the negative feeling could be physically removed, you worked on placing out the plates and silverware that the woman, who you assumed was Granny Boone, had placed in your arms.

Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. While Granny Boone was kind and funny, she most certainly took no shit and reminded you a bit of your mother. The cooking had been fantastic, and you had made sure to mention such.

Now, the boys were having dessert, Granny was playing the piano, there was an arm wrestling contest going on, and you were content to sit curled in a corner, working in your sketchbook once more. Instead of the town, you had decided to focus on the people in the room this time. Granny, in particular, since she seemed to be genuinely enjoying what she was doing.

Slowly, bodies leaked out of the room, though one slipped in after being absent. Buckman. He sat nearly atop the piano, sipping from a jug and just observing. While the music continued, the other noise quieted down slowly. Until you heard footsteps approaching. Nelson, of all people. The hoped that he wouldn't bother you if he wasn't acknowledged was squashed instantly. A little liquid courage was apparently the only thing needed for him to change his opinion of you being an uptight bitch.

As soon as the arm was around your shoulders, you shrugged it off and stood up. The two at the piano watched cautiously. You could see them trying not to gawk, and it just caused a rush of embarrassment to hit you.

“You can keep your hands to yourself. How many times does it take for you to realize that I'm not interested nor will ever be. Just because your friends with my brother doesn't mean I have to put up with your shit, Nelson. And, as far as I remember, your last opinion of me was that I was an uptight bitch. So, even if you were the last option on the face of this planet, it wouldn't happen.” Before he could attempt any retort, you walked from the room. The urge to run had been resisted by the skin of your teeth.

Stepping out into the cool night air was a relief. There wasn't enough light out here for you to finish your sketch, but that didn't matter since it meant that you were alone. Sitting down on the steps that led up to the hotel, a heavy sigh threatened to cave in your chest, and you buried your face in your hands for a moment. Breathe, just breathe. The mantra repeated over and over. God, did you hate confrontation like that. And to do so in front of practical strangers?

A soft weight rested against your shoulders, startling you.

“Easy,” Buckman nearly whispered. A blanket, he had wrapped a blanket around you. “Didn't mean to frighten you. Just thought ya might want something to keep the chill off ya.” He was being polite and not bringing up what had just happened.

“Thank you…” Another sigh and the wood creaked under his weight before he settled at your side.

“Some boys just don't learn their manners.” The comment brought a little, depreciating laugh before you could stop it.

“Understatement of the century.” A quiet chuckle was his response. “I'm sorry about that. My brother's friends have a habit of not thinking anything through.”

“Nothing you gotta apologize for, ain't any of that on you. They just need their mommas to tan their hides a bit more so they start respecting others.” You both fell silent as the small noises of the night started to echo out. Insects, birds, the rustle of trees and branches. It had always been pleasant and relaxing to listen to after the day had ended. The silence between you was comfortable, not awkward, and not one that you felt compelled to fill. He didn't either, it seemed. After a few more minutes, it was finally broken.

“I uh, see ya got that little book with ya. What were you working on in there?”

“This?” While you were always drawing, you didn't often share openly. But, there was something about the moment that pushed you towards it. A sense that he could appreciate it. “Nothing much. Just a little sketchbook.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He held out his hand but didn't move to grab the book, waiting for permission. After a second of hesitation, you wanted it over.

“The last one isn't finished yet….” The one of Granny Boone. The first few pages were random little ideas without too much detail since it was a relatively new book. The next three were from today. Two of the town and the last being what you had told him wasn't finished.

“Granny is gonna love this,” he finally spoke softly, amusing lacing the words, but they were genuine rather than mocking. “Ya felt that inspired by our little town?”

“There's certainly a draw.” You missed the giddy grin that overtook his features for a passing moment before it was schooled a little more into a more normal smile.

“I'm touched that you see such charm in our town. And lord, is there some talent here.” Well, there you go again, the heat rising to your cheeks. “Not too many see the town like this.” There was an odd note to his voice, then that caused you to look up. You couldn't place the emotion then. Longing? Desperation? Nostalgia? Either way, it settled there, making the usually peppy and excited mayor seem melancholy until the smile returned, brushed off as if it had been nothing more than a fly on his shoulder.

“Hard to see why. Nice southern hospitality, peaceful, little off the beaten path to make it feel separate from the rest of the world.”

“Glad you think so, darling.” You glanced back out towards the town once more before your world went black.

#horror writing #robert englund characters #villain writing #villain x reader #george buckman #mayor buckman #mayor buckman x reader #george buckman x reader #2001 maniacs #2001 maniacs fic

[paladinsandruffians]

Short Snippet #2

"Hero, put him down." The stern voice came from behind. Hero turns just barely glimpsing as a dark figure seems to peel away from the neighboring shadows. She grits her teeth, fist balling tighter around the struggling villain's shirt. She ignores the warm, sticky substance trailing down her arm, focus snared by the intruding man.

"You can't stop me, vigilante." She jerks the villain, evoking a gargled gasp from the battered man. "He," she growls, "Took everything from me."

Villain whimpers, trembling hands reaching for his front. His tears glisten in the pale moonlight.

Vigilante sighs, shaking his head in a slow, morose manner.

"No, Hero. He did not."

#heroes and villains #villain #hero #vigilante #villain whumpee #hero whumper #villains and heroes #wrongly accused #writing #writing snippet #hero writing #villain writing #whump #paladinsandruffians

[sachikoeveraftercharm]

Sachiko Writing 1#

TW: Animal death, minor blood, not very detailed gore You may use this as a prompt/continue this, just credit me or/and reblog this!! Assistant wasn’t suppose to see it. The blood, the corpse, the open stomach… And especially not the miles wide smile lining the Villain’s blood tinted face. It was only a few drops but it assisted with creating a look of insanity as a sculpting scalpel shivers in Villain’s right hand.The hedgehog like creature lies dead on the wooden table, a look of horror on the animal confirming it was killed alive.  The stomach is cruelly open without proper equipment, proving this was not Villain’s idea going in… Like the idea possessed them. That would at least explain their face. Their eyes are nothing but dots, looking down at his piece of art one might call prey. Cold breath filled giggles escape Villain’s mouth, noises they aren’t aware they’re creating. Hell, Villain barely notices his blood stained hands or how brutally they killed a creature that could not fight back. It takes the ‘possessed’ Villain a moment to notice their very own Assistant. Their attention fully glues to the underling with an untamed smile, attempting the greet them with kindness. The scalpel stays in Villain’s hand, armed with the weapon they just used to attack. Only way Villain found out how they looked was by the sheer terror in Assistant’s eyes.The Assistant is used to Villain losing control but they never… Hurt someone since Super Villain. They might sling empty threats but Villain is not a violent person. A fucked up one, yes, but not violent. The lack of motive is also shocking, conflicting how Villain preaches every sin they commit is to help humanity “…Assistant…?” Villain croaks, mirroring their friend’s expression. Horror consumes Villain’s eyes as they look at their own hands, stumbling back. “Shit shit shit… It’s not what it looks like Assistant… I told you I’ve been getting better, shit shit…” The scalpel stays in Villain’s hands as they get further away… Almost like Villain was afraid they would attack their dearest person in their dark heart.

#prompt #my prompt #writing prompts #writing snippet #sachiko writes #tw: blood #tw: animal harm #protective villain #assistant #villain x right hand #villain x henchman #villain writing #horror writing #villain x hero #i suck at tagging lmao

[herecomesathoughtwithme]

Turning Into a Villain - Dialogue Prompts

"I tried to be the hero but I was never enough, was I? But then I realized, I was never meant to be the good guy -I was born to spread chaos."

The scariest things is that I can see myself doing this..."

"The loneliness of feeling unseen by others is such a splitting pain that it is enough to change a person completely. Maybe for the best or for the worse, who knows?"

"The moment every man has, the moment when you realize that you have no one and nothing to life for...then, the pain becomes constant and sharp."

"We become what we aretold we are. And I? Well, I was always told I was a monster."

"Of course lies are like sweets, after all the truth is bitter and hard to swallow..."

"I'm far too deep now, there's no saving me so save your breath."

"Either I win and built my empire or I die and they sing and dance on my grave."

"Don't bother trying to talk me out of this. I don't care if I'm wrong, I'll do what I want."

"Why should I care about others? No one cared about me."

"There's no coming back from this. I'm sorry."

"The version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility."

"You kneel before my throne, unaware that it was born of lies."

"Sometimes we have to do bad things for the greater good. I don't expect you to understand this."

"Tell me, which one should I ask forgiveness for; for what I am or what I'm not? And which one should I regret; what I became or what I didn't?"

"Fine, make me your villain. Its much easier to be right when everything is black and white while putting the blame on me, isn't it?"

"You demand a simple answer, refusing to consider everything. This is the essence of your failure."

"The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak."

"I never wanted to be the villain or the hero, all I wanted was to live."

"What's wrong with me? Oh, where do I even start?"

#villain #villians #villain prompt #villain writing prompt #villain writing #writing prompts #angst #dialogue prompts #writing dialogue #writing quotes #creative writing #hurt

[outlawssweetheart]

As an Afro-Latina, seeing people be like, “Oh, the White male villain being more popular than the female or WOC main characters is sexist and racist” has me pissed the fuck off. Do you know why we love those villains more? Because, unlike the Heroes™, they’re actually interesting, entertaining, amusing, multi-layered (multi-layered enough, at least, when it comes to Scream), and not the safest characters ever to put in a leading role. (As most protagonist are. 🙄)

I love seeing POC as main characters, but it’s just like the new Barbies: The diversity is great, but the dolls (really, the entire Barbie brand for the last decade) are ugly, boring, and cheaply/poorly made. POC characters have always been stereotypes in the back, and now that we finally get them at the front, they’re all boring as a brick.

I love villains; I don’t support their behavior in real life (*gasps* SEPARATING FICTION FROM REALITY?! 😱), but they’re the most enjoyable characters for me. But since people wanna scream, cry, and throw up if POC are anything but saints nowadays, the most enjoyable characters (for me) still go to the White people! 😒 (And the few POC villains I have seen in media are usually one-note as fuck. 🙃) So which fucking characters do you think I’m going to gravitate towards?

I love seeing WOC main characters (especially Black and/or Latina because it’s personal for me) but, just like 99% of main characters in popular media, they’re fucking bland. It ultimately is meaningless to me if they aren’t serving.

GO ON, GIRL; GIVE ME NOTHING! 🥳🥳🥳

#(Anyone can reblog this if you agree; Idrc. 🤷🏽‍♀️) #This shit has me HEATED. 😤😤😤 #DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE accuse me of internalized racism and misogyny when I WANT to love those characters; #I want to love them SO MUCH but I am not a fan of Starring Heroes™. #They are simply NOT my cup of tea. #Amber Freeman; thank you for being a WOC who actually served cunt! 🙏🏽😘 #Way more than your Basic White Boy™ boyfriend did! (ILY Rich but fr. 🥴) #woc characters #poc characters #writing poc #writing woc #female characters #writing female characters #villains #villain writing #scream #DC comics #marvel #mcu #hotd #house of the dragon #rant #txt

[shallow-wordsalad]

something I appreciate on the rare occasions it happens (and is explored) is the idea that some villains are villainous because they're just simply bad people.

not everyone who goes about their lives abusing others, crushing dreams, swallowing power and money and lives like a glutton started their lives as an idealist or a good person. in fact, a great deal of people who live like that were always assholes, and once they obtained power, a platform, or money, simply used it to continue being assholes on a much larger scale - because they simply do not care about others. maybe they were spoiled children who never were told no, or people who always viewed the people around them by what they could gain from them, or people who convinced themselves to only think of themselves. there's depth to be written about a person who is evil all the way down, and it's not a failure of character design to make one who is simply unlikable (in fact, if that was the intent, it's a complete success.)

I love a good sympathetic villain. I love a good redemption arc. I love Steven Universe and My Little Pony. I love when the villain looks at their bloody hands and wonder just whose blood it is they spilled, because they genuinely can't remember, and asks themselves if what they're doing is what they wanted to do in the first place.

but I also want a villain to stare at a hero, dead in the eye. as the hero speaks of peace and understanding, asks about their dreams, and asks them to stop what they're doing, the villain without hesitation would say "and what would I get out of that?" and then pull a gun on them for the audacity.

it's a really, really important lesson people need to take in: that some people are just bad people. not good people who were whittled down or broken. not betrayed heroes. some people are just rotten to the core, and everyone should learn that as early as possible.

#writeblr #creative writing #tropes #villain writing #jack horner #puss in boots 2 really had some great villains #jack horner was great obviously #but I wish he'd gotten the same gravitas and respect that the wolf did #because making people who are just genuinely evil into a comedic foils kinda lessens the truth of it #which is that the world is full of jack horners who aren't funny #and it's not a trope to have someone just be unrepentantly terrible to everyone around them #puss in boots 2 #the last wish #writing advice #writing tips #rant over

[blackplaaague]

At this point, "enemies to lovers" feels so tiktokified I can't even see the joy in it anymore. It just feels like the next overhyped quote-unquote "dark romance" cliche instead of something that genuinely brings me joy, that is, people realizing they're not so different and overcoming their former hatred of each other to become an awesome power couple.

I've decided the only way to solve this problem is to invent a new-ish trope.

Lo and behold: Your Enemies Are Lovers.

...I don't know what I'm thinking but like. Bad guys are a power couple who kill you. Give it a chance I swear

#bp rambles #booktok #writing #writeblr #creative writing #villain writing #villains #anyway if you wanna use this idea go ahead #low self esteem says it'll never work #cringe part of me says go for it

[veliatra]

I really wanted to share how I am an evil DM that will cause emotional damage to their players throughout the campaign, and what grueling tasks and relationships they will have to navigate while they think "we are heroes, we are the good guys" to turn into "are we tho. No. DM is messing with us. WE ARE THE GOOD GUYS. Stop messing with us" to

"oh god"

My hand itches to tell you about all the horrors of

Decision making

I want to put them through... But they found my tumblr. MY HANDS ARE TIED I CANNOT SPOIL IT ALL

#dm #dm problems #dm problem #dnd #dungeon and dragons #dungeon master #villain writing #evil #i am evil #fantasy #AAAAAAA #aaaaaa

[caker-baker]

Prompt

The hero couldn’t pinpoint where the explosions were going off, only that each loud boom was in tandem with the orchestra music being conducted by the villain.

They didn’t know what to do to get it to stop, and could think of only one last Hail Mary.

“Haha! Band kid.”

The villain stopped conducting.

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #snippet #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villainess #writing #heroes #anyways #villains #writing snippet #hero writing #villain writing #civilian x villain #ummmmm ok so think of this like a concert band situation #I know orchestra and concert band are different but I traded my brain for stuff so like #sorry guys it’s so freezing I can’t think straight. #consider this a prompt #go nuts if inspiriation strikes #ok my fingers are losing movement from the cold be safe do school and drugs goodbye

[localrobotlover]

Remember when writing a villain you should always give them a reason on being a villain

It doesn't have to be a good or sympathetic reason it just has to be a reason

The reason can be they did it for the kicks and giggles, money, power, etc

Just give them a reason

#writing advice #villain writing

[slxsherwriter]

You and I May Never Get This Right

Fandom: Lake Placid

Pairing: Jim Bickerman x reader

Word count: 4,479

Warning: Hospitalization, mention of serious injuries (loss of limbs), ptsd, panic attacks, age gap relationships,

Author's Note: Don't hate me for how I ended this. There may be more in the future. As always, not beta read. Mistakes are mine. Likes are always appreciated, but reblogs and comments are cherished and feed the brain.

Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta & @tinalbion

The ringing of the phone interrupted the quiet peace. The sound was wholly unexpected and caused you to jolt. The mindless haze that you had fallen in going through the familiar motions of fishing. After the hellish week that you had at work, a trip out into the woods for a few days on your own consisting of fishing and camping had been just what you needed. You had thought for sure that you wouldn't have service out here but apparently, that had been a mistake. 

There was an instance where you debated ignoring it entirely. If it was your place of employment, you might just throw the phone into the pond. Despite how much it would cost to replace. Something in your gut told you that you had to pick it up. Groaning, you pushed up from your chair, carefully setting aside your fishing pole so it didn't end up in the water if something did bite in the absence, and moved back towards your camp and your tent. 

Rummaging around, it had stopped ringing only to start up again. Whoever was calling clearly needed to speak with you. Finally, you freed the object from the bag but didn't recognize the number at all. No business was coming up. 

“Hello?” Whoever was on the other end of the line sounded professional. One of those scripted sorts of voices. They wanted to confirm that you were you before saying anything else. Frowning, you did as asked and confirmed who you were before more information came. It was a hospital calling about James Bickerman. There had been some sort of incident? Something about him being brought to the hospital in bad shape and there needing to be someone there that could make decisions. Your number was the only thing listed. 

“Um, uh, yeah. Yeah. I gotta grab a flight. I can be there within the day, though, hopefully no more than a few hours, but I don't know when I'll be able to get a flight out. Did you need me to do anything before that? I will have my phone on me the entire time.” They asked about blood transfusions and life-saving measures such as intubation and CPR. Jesus Christ, what the hell had Jim managed to get into? 

Jim Bickerman was a name that you hadn't heard in several long years. He had been your older brother's best friend. You had been the accident, with your brother close to twenty-five years older than you. The two were as thick as thieves, always getting into trouble and mischief. By the time that you were a teenager, you were sucked into that sort of trouble. With a smaller stature, you could slip into places that they couldn't. An innocent face that most people believed when you lied for them. A look out that could actually be trusted to do the job. You fit all those sort of roles for them. Of course, it was cliche, but you had a crush on the man. Not that you had expected anything to come to fruition in regards to it, keeping the fact to yourself the best that you could. A drunken night in your mid twenties resulted in a closeness that had developed further into what could have been considered a relationship. Was your brother thrilled with it? He went back and forth. He liked the fact that he knew the man that you were with, but at the same time, he was a bit freaked out and disturbed that it was his best friend. 

Things had been really good for quite a while. There were a few bumps in the road in terms of getting in trouble with the law, but nothing that major or that you couldn't get over. After all, while you were in constant mischief and trouble, it wasn't the major sort that would see any of you going away to prison for any sort of extended time. All the local bars and police officers knew you all by first name.

Life had a way of happening, though. While you had all come from relatively nothing, being poor and scraping and scrapping in order to get by, Jim had this sort of intense and overwhelming drive for money. Enough so that it started to cause the two of you to clash every now and then. The passing of your mother and then followed by your brother in seemingly rapid succession had seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. You had to get out of Maine, get away from the mess that had taken over your life. The fact hadn't been taken well by Jim, who refused to leave. He was supposed to be getting the cabin that he had grown up in. The cabin was something that he was not willing to give up on. Things had quickly devolved from there for you both, to the point that it made it easy to walk away. Well, easier than it had been at first. Even if you had hoped something more would have come from the man. It had hurt and had been hard, even if his behavior made the decision more justified. He has tried to get you to stay but the cabin had been more important.

That had been close to ten years ago. A part of your life that you had left in the past. A fresh start had done wonders for you. Trouble with the law had vanished from your life. You had gotten a stable job, one that you didn't exactly enjoy, but it paid the bills well enough and allowed you the ability to have weekends to yourself. That allowed plenty of fishing and camping trips, with the occasional interruption. 

Now, that peace had been thoroughly shattered. You had never expected for Jim to still have your name down as an emergency contact. That heavy feeling that had invaded your chest during that first call remained, growing worse the longer things went on. A few more phone calls came from the doctors. Assurance that he was alive, but it seemed like he needed multiple surgeries, and they had to start to be able to save what they could. 

When the plane landed, you felt fully sick to your stomach. Renting a car felt like it took far too long. The familiar paths hadn't changed all that much since you had been awhile. Land a little more developed here and there, but that was barely acknowledged. Arriving at the hospital, your only thought was laying eyes on Jim. The picture that had been painted had not been pretty, and there was only so much that could be done to brace yourself for it. Sitting behind the wheel, finally parked at the hospital, your hands shook, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Could you do this again? Was it going to be a repeat of your brother all over? Sweat trickled down your neck, and your vision blurred for a moment. Fumbling for the handle of the door, you managed to throw it open, leaning out and gasping. Thankfully, no one was around to see the near breakdown. 

It took several long minutes for you to be able to calm down and regain control of your breathing so it didn't seem like you had run here instead of drove. Ending up in a bed next to Jim wouldn't do any good for either of you. Counting each breath, inhaling for a few seconds, holding, and then exhaling for the same amount of time. 

Feeling just slightly more put together, you headed inside. The lady at the desk was hardly helpful, but the security guard was someone that you recognized. A man that you had gone to school with, and he was kind enough to lead you to the right floor, where the doctors had taken over from there. Now that you were there in person, you were able to get far more information than what they had provided over the phone. The accident? A crocodile attack. Jim had lost his left arm and his left leg. There had been internal bleeding that had been difficult to stop, a laceration to his liver the cause. His left eye had been damaged to the point that it had to be removed, a rock having lodged into the orbital socket as a result of the attack. 

He had just gotten out of surgery by the time that you had managed to get through. They didn't expect him to wake for several hours, if that. With the blood loss, trauma, and surgery, he was alive, but that didn't guarantee anything. While you weren't prepared to go to the room, there was little choice in the matter. No one would make you, but you were there and had to go see him. 

The sight of the man in the bed caused your knees to go weak. The nurse that had brought you to the room attempted to soothe you by placing a hand on your back. 

“It's okay.” No. No, it wasn't. The body in the bed was almost unrecognizable. Pale, bandaged, and hooked up to a load of machines. Hell, his face looked a little sunken in even. He hardly looked like the Jim you knew. Even if that Jim was several years younger than the Jim in the bed. Crossing your arms to give your fingers something to grasp, you moved forward and took a seat in the chair beside the bed. 

“Thank you.” A brief utterance to the nurse. The only other noise in the room was the beat of the heart rate monitor and the hiss of the supplemental oxygen that they had him on. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the rush of blood in your ears, trying to grasp onto the machine generated beep. Steady. It wasn't too fast or too slow. It helped give you something to focus on and bring yourself down. If you weren't so worried at the moment, you would have been cursing up a storm and yelling at him. Unconsciously or not. They said that people in comas and such could hear what was being said to them after all. For now, though, all you could do was sit there and let the worry eat you alive. The steady rise and fall of his chest, on his own without mechanical intervention, wasn't enough to ease it. 

*****************

At some point, you must have nodded off, sleep pulling you under without warning. You remembered staring off out the window while hoping Jim would wake up. The next thing you knew, you were cracking your eyes open against the bright light of the morning and a nurse standing over the bed, doing a vitals check. 

“The least ya can do for an old man is get him a drink.” His voice was rough, but there was no mistaking it for anyone else. He was alive and awake. 

“The last thing you need right now is a drink, you old bastard,” you replied before the nurse could, standing up out of the seat and shifting to the edge of the bed. Jim's eye wandered the room for a moment before finally settling on you. It took a second for the light of recognition to appear, and somehow, he managed a smile. 

“Well, hey there, dumpling.” You couldn't help the roll of your eyes at the pet name. But right then, there would be no calling him out on it. “What are you doing here?” It was actually a viable question. His faculties, what little he started with, seemed to be intact. Which was a good sign. A low sigh escaped from you, and his brow furrowed. 

“Apparently, I'm still listed as your emergency contact. And since you went off on some suicide mission, I got the call.” A pause. Swallow. Stay composed. Don't let him know how deeply affected you were by this. “And as much as I wanted to stay fishing, I couldn't let your dumb ass die.” Something indescribable passed over his face. Nothing that you could place. All before that familiar smirk had appeared once more. 

“Maybe I should get myself chewed on a little more often if it's gonna be bringing you around.” The nurse excused herself, giving you two a little time. Even if you tried desperately to keep her presence in the room for the sake of your sanity. Being alone with the man and this out of control of your emotions was not a good combination. 

“You're an absolute ass. I see that a near death experience hasn't changed that.”

“Aww, come on. Ya gotta be nice to me, dumpling. I'm a cripple now.” The tease about his condition fell just a little flat. At least he seemed to be taking it in stride. You weren't sure you would be able to manage even snark if you were lying in bed like that. The comment managed to bring a smile, one that you hadn't thought would come. Maybe it was tinged with relief that he was himself and that familiarity felt good under the circumstances. You hadn't had this chance with your brother. 

“Cripple or not, you're still a grumpy bastard.” He has the audacity to wink playfully or make the attempt, and there was no stifling the small laugh that just broadened his own smile. Jim would always be Jim. And as much as you had tried to put it all behind you, you had missed the man. His hand had found yours in those quiet seconds and gave it a small squeeze. Not begrudging him the comfort, if that was what he needed, you returned the gesture and kept your fingers laced with his. 

“Maybe so, but it never bothered ya before. If anything, think it's what attracted ya in the first place.” Pulling your chair closer, you shook your head. Might as well get settled in since it was going to be a bit before you got out of here. You couldn't bring yourself to be annoyed about the fact either. He was alive and the relief that came with that fact was near overwhelming. 

*****************

“For fuck sakes….” The phrase might as well have been tattooed on you somewhere with how often it was uttered up into the air. As if some twisted prayer. A desperate cry for strength to tolerate the horrible patient that was before you. 

“Ah, just in time. Come on over here and help me with this, sweetheart.” 

“Jim….” You paused and took a slow breath. How the nurses hadn't entirely lost it on him was beyond comprehension. Or maybe they were just drawing straws on rotation to see who was dealing with him next. “Get your ass back in bed! You aren't going anywhere.”

“Aww, come on. You don't have to be like that. We’re just going on a short walk.” He used we, as in plural, including you in whatever plan he had in mind. “Can't stare at these walls anymore. And like hell I'm being pushed around in that chair.” The words stirred up a sense of sympathy. He couldn't be blamed for going stir crazy stuck in the room for three weeks now while healing and starting rehab. His prosthetics had been in early in the week, and while he was still learning to walk with the new leg, he wasn't keen on waiting before pushing himself, it seemed. 

Jim was hopping on his one leg, trying to get the pants that you had brought him in a change of clothes at the beginning of the week, settled on his waist. 

“I know you are going stir crazy. Hell, I am at this point just visiting you, and I get to leave. But you can't be pushing yourself too much, or you are just going to be stuck here longer than necessary. Such a thing as setting back your own recovery.”

“Sweetheart, I'm fixing to jump out that window if I don't get out of this room for something other than rehab. So, you can help me or head out so you don't get in trouble.” Groaning, you glanced towards the ceiling, counting back from ten before moving forward to help him finish getting dressed. The closeness allowed him to get a few cheeky touches in, all under the guise of keeping his balance and such. You knew better but were unbothered by it. Being here had brought all those feelings right back to the surface and damn it if you still didn't love the man. 

“Since you can't be trusted to keep yourself in one piece or not to do something foolish, guess I'm stuck helping you. See, this is how I ended up in trouble when we were younger. All your damn fault.” He laughed. 

“Way I remember it you were all too eager to help.” How could this man still make you feel like a teenager with a silly crush. 

“Young, impressionable, and dumb. That's what I'm calling it.” You gave him a little push to get him back on the bed, causing him to chuckle, all before helping him make sure the prosthetic was in place. Him hopping around would attract too much attention. You winced at the still raw looking around. The surgeons had done a fantastic job. “You sure? This still looks like it's not gonna feel great, Jim.”

“Oh, I'm more than sure.” You nodded and got him settled. He kept an arm around your shoulders, both as an excuse to hold you and an extra support as he moved along. 

“Come on then, let's get you moving a bit. We are only going for a short walk, okay? Then it's back in bed.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He laughed, and you rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. Glancing out into the hall, none of the nurses seemed to be paying attention. A few tentative steps were taken before you both realized no one was going to stop you. “You uh, you didn't bring anything to drink this time, didcha?” The man was impossible. But, he had broken you down with the requests. 

“Just keep walking for a bit here, okay.”

“Ya did. Knew I could count on you.”

“As if that would ever change?” The comment slipped before you could think about it. Out in the open now, and he would take it as he pleased. Getting into the elevator, you hit the button to lead you down to the cafeteria. There was a coffee shop close to it where you could at least get a decent dose of caffeine. He could mix his alcohol with it to hide it from the nurses. The minimal amount that you had gotten in. 

“Easy there, buttercup. Give me a second.” The strain to the words told you that he was hurting more than he let on, and you instantly pulled to a stop, allowing him to lean against the wall and gain his breath back. 

“Better than I thought we would do, actually. Let's get you to the chairs up there, and I'll get us some coffee.” He nodded, giving it another minute before pushing himself off of the wall and bracing himself further against you. It was no more than twenty feet. Once he was settled into the chair, you moved off to get the promised coffee. 

Since you couldn't juggle both coffees and get the alcohol into his, you had to settle for carrying both of them back and plopping down into the seat beside him. 

“Here, hold mine for a second…” You passed him the cup that you knew for a fact was yours before reaching into the pocket of your jacket and pulling out a small flask. One that Jim had actually gifted you, though that wasn't anywhere near the forefront of your mind. 

“That the one I got you for your twenty-first?” The question didn't register at first as you poured a little bit of the liquor into the cup before a hum came from him, attempting to catch your attention. 

“I'm sorry, what?” You looked up as you finished, putting the cap back on the small flask and taking your coffee back, holding his out to him. He repeated the question, causing you to blink for a second and look down at the pocket that you had safely tucked the flask in. “Uh, yeah, yeah, it is.” A sound came from him, something that you couldn’t entirely identify and didn't really want to right then as he decided to take a sip of his drink instead. 

Once the cups were empty and the coffee was finished, you had felt that he had been out of his room long enough. The nurses were going to ream you for having him out this long, but it had helped him and would hopefully keep him feeling a little less ornery for the next day or so. 

“All right, let's get you back to your room.” The walk was a little slower, with him feeling the effects of the walk on his still healing body. It was wholly unsurprising if anyone were to ask your opinion. Getting him back to bed, he was wincing and unable to hide it. It made you feel just a bit bad, though you knew that he would say it was worth it. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, so softly that you almost missed it. His eyes were closed as he reclined back in the bed, clearly spent from the small outing. Smiling to yourself, you settled down in the chair, deciding to spend the rest of the afternoon with the man, even if he slept through it. 

***************************************

“Ya know….” Jim was drawing out his words, which meant that he was waiting for you to turn your attention in his direction. Some things never changed. You finally turned to look at him after stuffing the last shirt into the bag. “You don't have to leave.” He was leaning against the doorframe, not quite looking at you. This had the beginnings of a conversation that you really didn't want to have. It hadn't gone well for you before. 

“I've used up all my time off. And then some. I have to get back before I don't have a job to go back to. You're home, Jim. Able to be independent. You are back on your feet and don't need me around anymore.” You almost said that you didn't have a reason to stay. Because technically, it was true. You didn't have a reason to stay. Your feelings weren't enough. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself in hopes of making this entire thing easier. It hadn't really worked. That ache that had happened when you had left the first time all those years ago was just as strong now as it had been then. It made the most sense to leave. Just as it had back then. You had a nice little life set up for yourself. Being here? Well, it would be a hard decision.

“You don’t have to go. You're back here. It’s where you should be.” He was going to make this difficult. Apparently, time did not heal all wounds. He was standing in the doorway and refusing to move out of the way. Maybe this whole incident had given him a slightly new perspective on life. “I know you don't want to go back either. So, why are you going to do what you don't want to do? Not like you had ever done something you didn't want to do before, Why with this?” There wasn’t a good answer there. Because everything felt far too convoluted and messy. There were reasons to stay and reasons to leave. His gaze had finally turned to you and felt heavy, practically pinning you in your place. 

“Because it is not a smart idea, Jim. Staying around. It's better for me to leave.”

“That's bullshit. You can't bullshit a bullshitter, dumpling.” Yeah, that was hard to argue with. 

“Jim, please can we not…” He huffed, though he had clearly decided that he wasn't going to let go of this issue. If there was one thing that Jim Bickerman could be called without a doubt, it was stubborn. 

“You coulda left my old ass to die. But you didn't. You still came out and stayed. You coulda made those decisions and left.” He was right. Why did he have to be right? It made any argument that you made to leave that much more difficult. Slowly, his lips turned upwards slightly, as if he knew he had won this part of the argument. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. 

“What do you want me to say?” He had worked around every single phrase besides I want you to stay the first time that you had left. It was his turn to show his frustrations over the entire thing. His hand and hook waved in the air for a moment, though the words didn't come. 

“I want you to say that I'm right and that you want to stay.” He wasn't going to let this go. Could you say that you didn't want to? Could you say that you wanted to? The words were stuck in your throat. Why did he have to make this so damn difficult? The treacherous voice in the back of your mind whispered that it wasn't him that was making it difficult. He had tried the first time around, maybe not as hard as you had hoped somewhere deep within, but he had certainly tried. This was him trying again. Maybe you had foolishly hoped he had moved on, that things had changed. Yet, it was the same scenario all over again. Except, it felt more serious than it had last time. 

Looking at him should have reminded you why you decided it was better to distance yourself. He made stupid decisions in chasing after money and whatever big payday that he thought was next. But Jim was loyal and underneath it all there was some part of him that was good-hearted. Even if it took a few layers to get through. Others often didn't get to see it. 

You weren't able to get a response out, apparently taking too long for his liking. Because the next thing you knew, he was stepping forward, invading your space like he used to do all those years ago. Guess the old man wasn't feeling all that old at that moment. No words came. Instead, he hooked a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. One last desperate attempt to get you to agree to stay. 

“Say you want to stay.” The words came out far softer this time, almost a plea. Almost. 

“Jim…” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, decision made. 

#horror writing #villain writing #villain x reader #creature feature writing #jim bickerman #Jim Bickerman x reader #lake placid #lake placid fic #robert englund characters

[paladinsandruffians]

Turnt Up

The world seemed to swim, swirling about as Villain lowered the glass from his lips. It slips from his trembling fingers as faintness overtakes him.

His eyes dart about. There are two exits: one there, at the front, and the fire door towards the back. Both are blocked by the throng of partiers. The one at the front is closer, but the crowd is more densely packed. If he could just...

"Hey, man, are you alright?" One of the partygoers approaches him, his own glass in hand. His brown hair is in a crew cut and he has the physique of a football player. He looks to be around Villain's age, maybe a little older. If he had to guess, he probably plays for one of the local colleges. Has he seen him before...?

"Really. I think you've had too much to drink. Do you want me to call an uber?

"Mmm." He can't open his mouth. His tongue feels sluggish and thick and all he wants to do is take a nap. A nap sounds really good right about now. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier. It couldn't be that bad, could it? Just...a few...minutes...

"Oh, don't worry about him," a chirping voice calls out. Who?

A slim but firm hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes tightly. He catches a glimpse of glittery red nail polish before a pair of arms wrap around his neck and someone presses their head against his.

"Sometimes he gets carried away, but don't you threat. I'll take good care of him."

"Are you sure?" the muscular stranger asks, looking between the two. If you guys need a ride, I could-" She waves him off.

"I own the big blue truck out back. Transportation won't be a problem." The stranger nods, sparing a final concerned glance at the lethargic villain before disappearing amongst the inebriated lot. He shouldn't worry so much. It's his day off after all.

Mumbling incoherently, Villain feels as the woman slips her arms under his and lifts him by the armpits. She begins, more carrying than, guiding him towards the door. His legs nearly give out after only a few feet. He...he shouldn't be this drunk. He...something...something's wrong.

They step out into the crisp, evening air, slowly progressing along the poorly lit parking lot. Halfway down the lot, the stranger pulls out a ring of keys. Finding the right set, she clicks a button.

Opening the passenger door, she heaves the weakened man up into the seat and latches him in with a normal-looking seatbelt.

Slipping into the driver's seat, she smirked at her unconscious passenger. Vigilante is going to love this.

She peels out of the parking lot, no one the wiser.

#villain #hero #vigilante #villain whumpee #drugged villain #writing #writing snippet #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero writing #villain writing #vigilante writing #whump #turnt up #paladinsandruffians

[home-for-artists]

Writing Prompt

Write about when you were the villain—the problem. Was it because everyone hated you or was it because you hated everyone.

#writing prompts #writing prompt #written #writing #writerscorner #writblr #writers and poets #writing projects #villain #villain writing #story prompt #dialouge prompt #book prompt #prompt blog #hatred