#writing snippet
thepenultimateword · 2 days ago
Short Prompt #6
“You be careful with that mask this time, ok?” Hero said.
Sidekick’s slight silhouette nodded in the dark.
“I’m serious. If your identity gets blown, you could be in danger, and I never want that to happen.”
“I knooow,” Sidekick hissed exasperatedly.
Hero didn’t love the tone, but they forwent the scolding and tugged at the security line of the kid’s grappling hook instead. Satisfied, they shoved open the fire escape window.
“Alright, let’s go.”
The living room light flicked on.
“Not one more step,” came a voice from behind them.
Hero spun smoothly on their heel, spreading their arms out innocently to their bed-headed partner. “Lovie~!”
‘Lovie”—Sidekick always gagged at the pet name—did not lift their glare.
“Are you seriously taking a 13 year old to a bank robbery?”
“How did—” Hero started.
“You think I’d be in a relationship with you without owning a police scanner?”
“Ah. Well, look, it’s fine. Sidekick is tough, and they’re never right at the front of a fight. And even if they were, I’m with them, so…”
This could go on for a while, so Sidekick pulled away their mask and started back to bed. Their step-parent paused their vicious scolding of Hero to remind them, not of secret identities or hand-to hand fight tactics, but to brush their their teeth and wash their face before getting in bed.
Yeah, things sure were different ever since Hero married a civilian.
110 notes · View notes
silver-ink-iron-words · 2 days ago
Outside the Know, Part 2
A/N - So, multiple people were asking for a continuation of Part 1 in the comments and reblogs. Thank you so much to those who expressed interest! I seriously wasn’t expecting that snippet to get the attention that it did
Though, going forward, if you’d like a continuation, could you please send me an ask? I find those are easier to keep track of than reblog tags
Part 1
It only took a little bit of digging to find the rock the civilian had been living under.
Heroes were usually harder to track; they had both the motive and the resources to keep their identities hidden. But civilians never imagined that nefarious actors could ever be interested in them.
Thanks to the villain’s subordinates – a pair of talented young hackers they’d snatched up before law enforcement could – they soon had a stack of tax forms, medical records, and printed out social media posts sitting on their desk.
With context, it was clear why the civilian had been so out of the loop.
As the villain suspected, the civilian was outrageously underpaid, and they worked long hours to make ends meet. They also lived with their sister and her young kid. The villain didn’t have any children, but they’d met enough couples with kids to know that if the civilian was even marginally involved in raising the child, it would take up a substantial portion of their time and attention.
Plus, if the sister’s facebook photos were anything to go by, the TV was typically dominated by PAW Patrol and Sesame Street. The evening news probably wasn’t on very often.
This all explained why the civilian didn’t recognize them, but a more grating question remained.
The villain had a few supporters – mostly communist twitter-users with anime profile pics – but almost everyone thought they were too extreme. So, in a city full of people ready to lick the heroes’ boots, why had the civilian been more hesitant?
The villain was itching to know, and the answer wasn’t going to be found in any of these documents.
_ _ _
When the civilian stepped out of their local coffee shop, they collided face-first with another person. Hot coffee spilled all over their front. They sucked in air, probably to keep from cursing.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Here, I have napkins in my . . . wait, [Civilian]?” The villain whipped off their sunglasses, their expression a perfect image of surprise.
“Radi– ” the civilian started, but the villain clapped a hand over their mouth before they could finish.
At the civilian’s look of hurt confusion, the villain pulled back their hand. “Sorry, sorry,” they said, replacing their sunglasses. “I’m kind of undercover at the moment. It’s my day off.”
“What a coincidence,” the civilian said with a smile. “It’s my day off too.”
The villain wore a look of astonished delight that, frankly, should have won them an Oscar. “What? No way! What are the chances?”
The villain had to practically beg the civilian to let them buy them another coffee. The civilian was irritatingly resistant, forcing them to lay it on thick.
“Please,” they said, already directing the civilian back into the shop. “I might actually die of guilt if you don’t let me make it up to you.”
“Wow,” the civilian said, raising their brows. “You’re such a nice person, you know that?”
Ten minutes later, the two of them were sitting on a secluded park bench with a coffee in each hand and a couple apple cider donuts – the civilian’s favorite, according to instagram – between them. The villain let their conversation dance over the pleasantries and surface-level catching up of a typical run-in, before they advanced with their agenda.
“So [Civilian], I’m curious. I know you don’t care as much about us heroes. But what do you think of villains?”
“You know, villains. Like the one who robbed a museum last week.” They took a sip, remembering. Though the civilian wouldn’t appreciate it, that heist had been some of the villain’s best work.
“Oh. Well. I think they’re pretty cool.”
The villain spat out their coffee.
“Hey, you okay there?” the civilian said, patting the villain’s back as they coughed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” the villain said, waving them away. “But what do you mean by ‘pretty cool’?”
The civilian’s mouth hung open slightly, horror dawning on their face. “Oh no. That was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it? They’re probably your arch enemy.”
“No, no, I’m not offended.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you’re so open and honest. You make me want to be as well.”
The villain wasn’t going to dwell on that. “Okay, but I’m still curious, what did you mean when you said that?”
The civilian paused, and the villain was afraid they were going to clam up. But then they shrugged and said, “It’s hard to explain. And, as we’ve established, I’m not the most well-informed. But, I don’t know, I just hear things. Like how they mainly target billionaires, and try to shine a light on corruption. It almost feels like they’re fighting for people like me.” They smiled, and the villain noticed they had dimples. “If someone stood up for you, wouldn’t you like them, just a little bit?”
“Yes.” The villain was staring directly at the civilian. “Yes, I think I would.”
_ _ _
It had been easy to find information on the civilian, and it was even easier to keep tabs on them. Which is why, when the civilian was in danger, the villain was notified that very same hour.
88 notes · View notes
Could I request a Sidekick accidentally walking in on Hero and Villain together, and the two unfortunately having to explain how its kind of an open secret in the field for Heroes and Villains to get together
I'd appreciate not shipping the sidekick with either of them in this tho, since it highkey makes me super uncomfortable for some reason, ty in advanced, love your work sm!!
The sidekick wanted to laugh, actually. It was extremely funny to watch their boss, the villain, in a heated make out session with their nemesis.
It was obviously super gross and disgusting, watching two people devour each other made the sidekick want to throw up, especially when one of them was their boss.
However, it was still hilarious. The villain who tried everything to stop the hero, was now pressing them to the wall and kissing their neck.
“What the fuck.” It wasn’t a question. The sidekick didn’t ask What the fuck? Because they truly didn’t want a real answer.
The villain spun around immediately, followed by a mumbled shit and a formerly moaning hero getting quiet.
“Yuck. In the meeting room. Jesus. In the meeting room,” the sidekick said. God, they probably had done it on the table already. How repulsive.
“Kid, I can explain—” The villain’s hand was still on the hero’s hip.
A sly grin creeped onto the sidekick’s lips. But still, this was disgusting. The villain was like a parent they never had. And them making out with someone was just gross.
The hero wasn’t even the worst choice. The sidekick sincerely liked them. But this was new.
“This is awkward.”
“Yes, it is,” the villain answered, putting their shirt back on.
“You should’ve locked the door,” the hero mentioned. “Your poor sidekick’s probably traumatised.”
“Yeah, I think I am.”
“Listen, we didn’t want you to find out like…this,” the villain said.
“Believe me, I didn’t want to either,” the sidekick answered, laughing nervously.
“Look, it’s just…things happen and they get out of control— I mean, sometimes you can’t…” the villain didn’t seem like they were gonna finish any sentence. Their whole face was red, their hand still on the hero. The sidekick realised that they were stuck, that they searched for stability through the hero. “We…I mean, I—”
“Seventy-five percent of villains and heroes get together,” the hero interrupted the villain. “Just be careful and choose the right one.”
They looked at the villain and squeezed their hand.
It was kind of cute.
But still gross.
81 notes · View notes
saltydumplings · 17 hours ago
Snippet #17
Cw: suggestive.
The henchman had always been very loyal to the villain. They were the other's right hand in everything they did - most trusted to do whatever it was the villain would bid them, whether it be robbing a bank to fund their latest project or stealing intel from the opposition. The henchman did it all gladly and asked for nothing in return but to remain under the villain's employment. It was all they could ever want.
Or, at least, they'd thought it had been.
Then the hero had come along.
The henchman knew the villain could become easily obsessed over certain things but this - this sudden desire for the hero was...different. It had begun with the villain talking about them daily, sometimes ordering the henchman to come to their office only to rant at them about their affections. Rants led to the villain actively seeking out fights with the other and fights led to the hero's eventual kidnapping - overseen by none other than the henchman themself. It hadn't been hard though. In fact, it had all gone so quickly and so easily that the henchman hardly realised what was happening until they delivered the hero to the villain and the supposed captive went to sit straight on the other's lap, smile wide as the villain locked their lips in a deep kiss.
That's when the henchman realised that this was no simple obsession but rather a requited love. And the more obvious the pair's relationship became the more aware the henchman was of something that had been building up inside them all the while - piling up brick by brick without their notice until it grew too big to be ignored. This something was envy: the henchman was jealous.
And that was simple enough, they supposed after some thought. They had worked for the villain a long time, it was only natural that they envy the sudden attention that the hero now received...
A month went by and they tried to focus on their work, but it was rather hard with the villain parading the hero everywhere. The henchman tried to turn a blind eye but they couldn't - couldn't ignore the way the villain would start teasing the hero when they got bored in meetings, kissing and touching them until the other would whisper something in their ear, at which point the meeting would be disbanded; couldn't help but stare at the shiny collar that sat about the hero's neck, the villain's initials engraved into the side of it to show everyone exactly who they belonged to; couldn't shake the way that the villain would growl whenever the hero did something to purposefully enrage them, their grin sharp and eyes excited even in the face of the villain's wrath, anticipating the moment they got the other to finally snap.
The henchman was slowly losing their mind over it all, every step to try and quell their feelings only ending in them falling deeper. After a while, they couldn't help but sense that they were missing something - that somewhere they'd made a mistake. And then one day as they'd passed the hero in the halls, the other free to roam wherever they pleased, it hit them. Hit them right at the moment when the hero suddenly paused them in their steps, the authority in their voice every bit as strong as the villain's as they ordered the henchman to go out and fetch them a milkshake. They said they were in the mood for something...sweet. For weeks the henchman had thought them spoiled but that wasn't the case, no: the hero simply got what they wanted. They weren't spoilt, they were driven, and whatever they desired they took by any means necessary. And the henchman liked that about them - liked the way they exerted power even when it seemed they weren't the one in control.
Did this mean the henchman had got it wrong then? Perhaps it was the villain they were envying rather than the hero but when they observed the two together again it still didn't make sense - the feeling was the same only now their thoughts on it seemed to conflict with one another: they idolised the villain yet admired the hero; everything they did they did with the villain in mind, and yet should the hero ask them for something their answer would be no less loyal. Which one was it? Which one did they like - damnit, why was it so hard to tell? Why didn't they know which--!
It dawned on them slowly, but more swiftly in a moment when the henchman had been presenting their plans - laying down carefully drawn graphs and notes on everything the mission required. The villain had stood from their seat and come to stand behind them, one hand resting upon the henchman's shoulder as they took a closer look. Then suddenly there was a presence on their other side too, the hero leaning down upon the table and surprisingly contributing to the discussion for once.
The henchman felt blood rushing to their face so fast that they thought they might pass out. They fidgetted in their seat slightly, overly conscious of every little move the other two made - every little touch that came as no more than a simple brushing of limbs and yet coursed through them in a great wave of sensation.
It came to the henchman's attention then that they were also very touch-starved.
Touch-starved and completely, utterly devoted to both the villain and the hero.
The henchman soon figured that, if they were ever to get through this, they were going to require a rather sizeable raise...
49 notes · View notes
lesbianwriter · 2 days ago
Hi! Could u please continue the gardener snippet? It's ok if u ignore this, you don't have to do it.
Thank you for asking! I’ve been wanting an excuse to continue it.
The party was held in the estate’s ballroom. The antique room looked trapped between two times. An era of regality, then a 90’s nightclub. Crowds of unfamiliar faces swarmed the center of the dance floor. Tables of food were lined against the back wall. Someone had hung a disco ball from the ceiling.
It wasn’t particularly hard to find Villain. She was a shark in the center of a school of fish. There was a large gap where people avoided getting too close to her. Civilian couldn’t blame them; her hands shook as she approached the velvet seat at the back of the room. There was plenty of space to sit. Villain looked at Civilian, then barely nodded for her to sit down. 
Civilian wrung her hands in her lap. “I—Uhm. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Villain is fine.” Villain responded tonelessly. Her eyes roamed over the chaos in the room. The old wainscoted walls were in stark juxtaposition to the vibrant clothing and boom boxes. If she disapproved, she hid it very well.
“I—okay.” Civilian stammers.
“Do you always stutter or are you that scared of me?” Villain asked, staring. She likely didn’t mean anything threatening by it. Maybe she merely wanted to stress the importance of eye contact in communication. It still terrified Civilian, and the questions shook her off center. Rattled her from the inside out. 
“I’m scared.” Civilian foolishly admitted. She hated herself for it. As a child she was a crybaby, and as an adult she was a wimpy gardener.
Silence from Villain. Music blared all around them, blending into sounds of others celebrating and hollering. Screaming and moaning. It made Villain’s silence stark in comparison. Everyone else in the party looked so happy. Nobody there seemed to care at all what people thought of them as they bounced wildly up and down.
“Why did you want me to come?” Civilian asks.
“You work hard. Everyday you show up and care for the garden with hardly any breaks. I want to ensure that you aren’t overworking yourself. That you take time to…enjoy yourself.” Villain hesitated on the last bit. She shook her head softly and looked back over the throng of her staff. “You never step inside or talk to anyone.”
“I’m not comfortable with many people.” Civilian picked at a nail. “This is the only nice dress I have, and I was so worried I’d wear something out of place and I did. I look like a depressed storm cloud.”
“Storm clouds are more grey.” 
Civilian laughed despite herself. It was a statement, but there was such a funny way to how Villain said it that she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Enjoy yourself tonight.” Villain began to shift away.
“Wait.” Civilian reached forward, fingertips brushing against Villain’s hand. Both froze and stopped before either could hold onto the other’s fingers. If they did, they’d be trapped like a bug in a spider’s web. Neither knew who was the spider in this situation. “If you aren’t doing anything…can we go to the garden?”
Civilian chewed on her lip. Did she make a mistake by laughing? Villain’s face didn’t betray much. But Civilian figured if it had made Villain upset than she’d be in a separate room with a gun to her head by now.
“We.” Villain tested the sound on her lips. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Underneath the starry sky, surrounded by flowers and plants that Civilian had grown and treated like her children, there was something strangely tender in the air. They were the only two there. As the night slipped into faint ribbons of orangish dawn sky right above them, Civilian departed with a flutter in her chest beating like a hummingbirds wing. Civilian knew that seeing Villain hide a crescent moon of a smile in her sleeve had unlocked a newfound feeling.
Part one 👇
30 notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · a month ago
Hi, I really like your writing! Could you possibly write a snippet with hero who is awfully scared of pain and villain who enjoys frightening them with it but not actually causes serious damage? Thank you
"You know," the villain said. "I think you may be in the wrong profession."
The hero said nothing, their breathing shallow, their attention stuck unerringly on the villain's hands. Those hands, that touch, that could cause such unimaginable pain whenever the villain so wished it. Hands that, right then, were doing no such thing.
Indeed, the villain's fingers were massaging gently at the hero's scalp, working steadily downwards from the top of their head. The hero could see them in the reflection of the mirror, standing behind them, perfectly at ease.
"The life of a hero," the villain sighed, "is pretty much a guarantee of pain, you know? Noble suffering, yada yada. Emotional trauma. Physical, too, of course."
The hero whimpered.
"Oh?" the villain raised a brow. "Sorry. Am I using too much pressure? You must tell me. You're very tense."
The hero opened their mouth to say something, perhaps please god step back and stop touching me, but their mouth was too dry. Nothing came out. It was pathetic.
The villain met their terrified eyes, and smiled sunnily. They rubbed massage oil over their hands, filling the room with the soothing scent of lavender, and found a particularly tight spot right where the hero's neck turned to shoulder and dug their thumb in.
The hero gasped, squirming like a fish on the hook, because sure it was a good sort of pain but those hands - those hands -
The pain melted into relief, into lightness, into something like pleasure as the knot unravelled away beneath their skin.
"Please," the hero managed. "Please." They slumped boneless, shaking, chains rattling where they kept the hero's wrists pinned to the stool.
Shame and fear burned through them. They could feel the tears prickling at the corners of their eyes.
"You're alright," the villain said. "I've got you. Breathe."
As if that wasn't the awful part! As if the hero couldn't see the gleam of terrible delight in the villain's eyes.
"I said," the villain's hands tightened, momentarily. "Breathe."
The hero forced themselves to take deep breaths, in and out, in an out, counting the dizzying seconds. They dug their nails into their palms.
"Good," the villain said, and their hands moved onto find another new point of tension on the hero's back. "Anyway. I appreciate you're very brave, and all. Braver than the fools who are too dumb and reckless to think to be scared certainly. But it's not good for your health, darling. I appreciate you are a talented healer with that regenerative ability of yours, but the psychological damage..."The villain sighed again. "I mean, just look at you. It's going to take me hours to smooth you all out. The body remembers trauma, you know? It builds up over time, even if the pain is only in your mind."
Hours. The hero had a stomach ache. They were going to pass out, they were certain of it. Their vision was tunnelling at the corners.
"Please let go of me. Please."
"You should stop," the villain said. "Before someone breaks you, yes?"
But the villain knew the hero couldn't, wouldn't, stop. Surely they knew. If fear of pain alone was enough they would never have got in the business in the first place. It still felt unbearable.
Their eyes met in the mirror again. The hero felt a tear roll down their cheek.
"Ah, look at you." The villain raised a hand, to wipe the tear away, and the hero flinched. "All this chatter isn't helping you relax at all, is it? You get my point anyway, don't you?"
The hero didn't know if it would be better or worse to agree, so they simply found themselves staring again.
The villain hummed, and reached for a box of tools, for a sharp knife-
"I'm relaxed!" the hero yelped. "I'm so relaxed. Please. I mean- you're doing a wonderful job and-"
The villain cut some slices of fresh cucumber and the hero's mouth clicked shut.
"I'll stop babbling," the villain said pleasantly, placing one slice over the hero's eye, and then the other.
The hero froze. What would happen if they knocked the slices off? They couldn't see. Where was the villain now? Where were their hands?
"There," the villain cooed, and pressed a kiss to their cheek.
The hero jumped.
The kiss felt like an electric shock - small but literal and it stung more than it actually hurt but - It wasn't just the villain's hands, was it, that could do what they did?
"Please," they could hear themselves, nonsensical, unable to even get a coherent sentence out, let alone something witty or scathing or casual. "Please god-"
"God?" The villain laughed, hands returning to the hero's newly bunched up shoulders. "There's no god here, darling. There's just me. So sit back. Close your eyes, and focus on my hands. Let me work my magic! You'll love it."
The hero soon lost track of time.
739 notes · View notes
avvail · a month ago
ok hihihihi, i just had an idea for a story.
So basically something along the lines of hero is a therapist ( I guess being a hero is a part time job or something) and they get a new patient, villain. but they don’t know that it’s villain and vice versa because they have secret identities or whatever. villain figures out who hero is before hero can put the pieces together but it’s already too late
-Danny devito anon
anything for my favourite anon 🏃
tw: non-con drugging
When Hero entered their office, the villain was already there.
“Oh,” they almost gasped, fingers clenching against the doorknob as they stared oddly at the figure on their seat. “Civilian...”
They slowly closed the door behind them, rolling their sleeve back to glance at the.silver watch around their wrist.
“I don’t believe we were scheduled for an appointment today.”
Villain wasn’t looking at them, but there was a small smile on their lips, eyes lingering on their intertwined fingers on their lap. They smoothly threw one leg over the other, pressing into the leather of the seat.
“No, we weren’t,” they simply replied, gesturing towards the table in front of them. “Care for some tea?”
Hero slipped their jacket off their shoulders, eyeing the Villain wearily. “Did you use my tea set?”
The villain only grinned coyly, glancing at the hero from their seat. “Brought my own.”
Hero draped their jacket on the hook, smoothing it down before they decided to join the villain. They took the opposite seat, letting their bags rest by their feet. Villain’s gaze was pointed as they watched, still smiling.
“May I ask why you’re here?” Hero challenged, keeping their voice as less stern as possible. They wouldn’t deny, they were still reeling from the fact that the villain had let themself into their office without permission, but now they were a little miffed.
Villain took a sip of the tea, eyes trailing down. “You may.”
Hero bristled. “Why are you here, Civilian?”
The villain chuckled quietly under their breath, obviously more amused by their humour than their therapist. They silently gestured to the untouched tea in front of Hero, who couldn’t help but sigh lightly and reach for it.
When they took a sip, the villain continued.
“Aren’t I allowed to consult with my therapist?” They drawled, placing their cup down onto the table.
“Not without an appointment, Civilian,” they pressed, the tea sweet on their tongue. “You know this.”
“This was an emergency.”
“And I appreciate that,” Hero frowned. “But that doesn’t give you authority to break into my office. You should call.”
“Well, I got what I wanted either way, didn’t I?” Villain offered them a cheeky smirk, folding their hands over their lap. “You would have referred me for an appointment this afternoon, regardless. I don’t find any harm in speeding up the process a little.”
What were they—?
Hero set their tea on the table, a little harder than they had intended. The luke warm liquid almost sloshed over the edges.
“You are pushing boundaries,” Hero snapped, unable to stop their temper from boiling over. “And committing a criminal offence.”
Villain sucked in a breath through their teeth. “Committing criminal offences doesn’t bother me.”
“No, of course not,” the hero sighed, standing up from their seat and stepping around the table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Villain grinned. “How rude—”
“The earliest I can book you in is three o’clock tomorrow,” Hero interrupted. “But I’m sorry, you need to leave.”
“I said this was an emergency.”
“And I’m busy.”
“You aren’t even doing anything.”
The hero rubbed a hand over their eyes, exhaustion weighing on their eyelids. “It’s not my work hours. Civilian, I respect your boundaries, the least you can do is respect mine.”
Villain bounced their leg lightly, rubbing at their fingertips lazily. They didn’t seem at all bothered by their therapist’s words, merely sat there, completely comfortable.
“I found out something interesting today.”
Hero clenched their jaw, standing their ground. “Civilian, don’t. I told you—” They faltered, their tongue thick. “—I told you to...”
Shit. Why was the world starting to spin? Hero swayed on their feet, fumbling to catch onto the wall to steady themselves. They glanced at Villain, who was already staring at them, and something in their mind snapped.
They glanced at the tea. They knew.
“No...” Hero slurred, dilated eyes moving frantically towards the door. “No, please...”
The therapist’s knees buckled, slamming into the ground before they could keep themself upright. They gasped for air as another dizzy spell hit them, rocking their world. Villain quietly rose from their seat, approaching the hero with a sharp smile.
“Don’t fight it,” Villain purred, reaching down to catch the hero’s jaw firmly. They whimpered softly at the touch. “Wouldn’t want my precious little therapist to wake up with a headache, now would I?”
Hero swayed against them, their cheeks flush. “C-Civilian...”
An inkling of desperation could be heard in their voice, but when the villian pulled them into their arms, Hero didn’t have the strength to fight the drugs any longer.
291 notes · View notes
booberryfun · 3 months ago
Me too
Being caged between the wall behind them and Villain in front of them, Hero could hardly breathe.
“Look at you,” Villain cooed, “All tensed up.” How could they not be? Villain was too close. Even though this wasn't the first time it happened, whenever it did... Hero just forgot how to breathe. “Relax, I won’t hurt you."
Of course they won’t. Their fights were mere cat and mouse chases, those oftentimes they were the mouse and... this situation happened.
“So, tell me,” Villain inched in even closer, “What’s the distraction for today?”
With the smirk on their face and their hand slowly moving towards Hero’s cheek, Hero swore any more second of eye contact would cause them to spontaneously combust.
"Aww, don't look away now," fingers went trailing down Hero's cheek and under their chin, lifting their head up with minimal effort. God Villain's hand was warm.
Once again, their eyes met, locked and unwavering. Hero dared not shift their focus anywhere away from Villain's eyes. Distraction, huh? Had Villain ever considered that they were the distraction? And not just for today, but like always had been?
"So~?" Villain's nectarous words slip into Hero's ears, making their breath hitch. Hero's fists tightened, and before either of them knew it, Hero had launched themself into Villain's chest and squeezed them a hug.
"Oh my-" the impact was large enough to make Villain stumble on their feet and almost lost their balance. Almost.
Hero buried their face into the nook of Villain's shoulder, nuzzling their nose into that warmth they'd longed to feel, to embrace. It took Villain a second to react to the sudden... hug but within no time, one hand was around Hero's waist, pulling them even closer and the other was on their head, patting and caressing their hair.
"I've always wanted to do this," a whisper so faintly Villain thought they had misheard. But with the hands grasping the fabric of their costume ever so tightly, they were sure they heard it right.
With their chin on Hero's head and hand still playing with their soft silky hair, Villain let out a chuckle, murmuring a "Me too" in return.
541 notes · View notes
caker-baker · 3 months ago
“Hero…” The villain said in a low, threatening voice. “Don’t come any closer.”
In their all too happy, distant way, the hero still walked forward, stumbling once or twice as a side effect.
“Villain.” The hero purred. “Come on. You know how pretty you are? It’s not fair.”
“You’ve been spelled, Hero.” The villain took a step back, then another, keeping their hands in front of them. “This isn’t you. Go back to the other heroes, to your own lab! You could fix this if you just knew you were under a-”
“What?” The hero asked in their dreamy voice. “A love potion? It feels fantastic! There’s no rage, no sadness, no hate, just true, unadulterated love.”
“For me.” The villain added on, voice wavering.“Love for me. But it’s fake, these feelings are fake. And love is the best drug there is but only when it’s real, Hero.”
“I know how you feel about me.” The hero said, the words alarming to hear in that sugary tone. “So why are you fighting me?”
The hero had reached the villain, and taken the hand that was outstretched in case they needed to keep the hero away.
“You’re perfect.” The hero whispered. “And I’m perfect for you.”
“But this isn’t you.” The villain also dropped their voice to a whisper. “Who did this to you? Who knows this about me so that they could weaponize you like-”
They stopped, the horrible realization dawning on them.
“Your heroes.” They said, eyes suddenly darting all around. “Where are they, Hero?”
The hero shrugged. “I’m your weakness, they said. You pull your punches, they said. The others go back in full body casts, your schemes go off without a hitch. Not with me though.”
The villain ripped away from the hero, clouds forming rapidly overhead.
“Have they ever considered you’re just better than them?” The villain snarled, a lightning bolt striking a little too close to them.
“Who cares!” The hero exclaimed, looking up at the thundering sky. “This is beautiful.”
The villain’s eyes welled with tears, good god, how long have they wanted the hero to say that. But it was fake, this was fake. They wanted their hero back, the one that would actually fight them, not try to seduce them into calming down.
The villain didn’t need that sort of weakness in their life, tempting as it was alone.
“They were right, Hero. I won’t hurt you, I can’t, but not because I care about you. It’s because you know me well enough to know what I’ll do.”
Just then, a figure appeared, followed by another, and another, and another. A legion of heroes.
In the same moment, the hero’s eyes widened, and though much slower than they normally were and with more hesitance, the hero ducked down, as electricity tore across the atmosphere like paper.
The heroes fell, muscles twitching in succession with the remaining crackles in the air.
“Your heroes will live.” The villain spat. “The shock was controlled, and they’re supers. It was a good plan, executed poorly. They were a minute too late.”
The villain extended a hand to the hero, who eagerly took it to help them up.
“If I asked you to join me, would you?” The villain asked, still holding tightly to the hero’s hand.
“Without a second thought.” The hero rested their free hand on the villain’s face, who struggled not to lean into the touch.
“You would leave your heroes behind to fend for themselves, clumsy as they are?”
“For you? Of course.”
They knew it wasn’t real, and as the light pink coat over the hero’s eyes shone, the villain knew it was time to put this fantasy to rest.
Gently, they grabbed the hero’s other hand, now gripping both.
“Will you show me the way to your lab?” They asked.
“Anything. But, Villain, I don’t want to go back to the anger, the fighting. This is all so calm, and don’t you want this? Want me? To be with me? Please I-”
The villain forced the wind around them to pick up, silencing the hero’s protests, silencing that selfish, selfish voice in them that begged for this fantasy to stay a reality, silencing everything, until the hero’s lips made no noise, and the villain’s head was empty.
“I’m sorry.” The villain said, though it was nothing the hero could hear, and when the hero collapsed into the villain’s arms, the villain caught them.
The wind died. “For your mild concussion, for making you go back to the anger, for hurting your heroes. Everything. Mostly, though, I’m sorry for what you’re going to wake up to. I don’t think I can fight you anymore, and it’s painfully obvious the others were depending on you to stop me.”
The villain let out a frustrated groan. “You are an unfortunate weakness, and that’s why I-” they hesitated. “I have to take you out of the game, for a little while. Ok?”
Though they were about to set off, the villain realized they couldn’t.
“I don’t know where your lab is.” They laughed, perfectly aware of the irony. “Mine will have to do.”
461 notes · View notes
mommymothman · 4 months ago
“Wow, you good? you look like you’re about to piss yourself.”
“What are you doing in my house?”
The villain wipes their hands on their apron. They turn and find themselves grinning amusedly at the hero, who presses themselves against the wall, eyes darting from Villain to their kitchen knives.
“Making soup, which I wouldn’t have if I knew you’d be so ungrateful. Really, Hero, where are your manners?”
“Get. Out.”
“Really? but my soup is just turning out so nicely, surely you wouldn’t mind sharing a meal or two with me.”
They say this, turning back to their pot and waving their pointer and middle finger in a small arc. Hero inhales sharply as the knives float and stab themselves into the ceiling.
“See? No weapons on me.”
The villain holds up their hands, pantomiming surrender, as a lopsided smile forms on their face. The hero finds themselves frozen. So vulnerable. Civilian clothing, identity out for anyone to see, cornered in their own home. They’d have to blind if they didn’t see how Villain looked them up and down hungrily, which gives them a strange fluttering feeling.
“You and I both know you wouldn’t need a weapon to hurt me.”
“Oh!” Villain holds their chest in mock-offense. “How you wound me with your assumptions.”
“Tell me why you’re here.” Hero says, finally going up to Villain and gripping their wrist. Their eyebrows raise when Villain melts into the touch, eventually hiding their face in Hero’s shoulder. Hero’s breath hitches.
The villain’s usual bravado is gone, and they shake in Hero’s embrace.
What is happening? Hero thinks wildly to themself.
It takes all their willpower not to squeak when Villain nuzzles against their neck. It sends shivers through their body, in a strangely good way.
“Please.” Hero has never heard Villain beg before. “Please, I just…I have nowhere else to go.”
Hero only runs their hands through Villain’s hair, shushing them and patting their back.
“It’s-It’s alright. You can stay.”
Villain clings to them tighter.
516 notes · View notes
lionarrow · 2 months ago
Needs | Villain x Hero Snippet
They looked at Villain strangely. "You've... been weirdly active lately."
Villain forced a smile. "What, am I running you ragged, Hero?"
Hero brushed back a loose strand of hair, sighing harshly. "Honestly, yes." Their eyes snapped to Villain's face. "But I'm more worried about you. You're usually only out once a month-- what's going on?"
"Who, me? Nothing. Nothing at all." Villain fiddled with their cape, pinching the ribbed fabric between their fingers again and again.
"Just didn't want you to get bored," they stilled, shoulders stiffening. "since you've had to supplement, after all."
Hero rubbed an eye, hair already slipping back into their face. "Excuse me. What."
"Or maybe you prefer to fight the other villains?" They took a quick step forward, pushing into Hero's space. "The press seems to think Other Villain is a better arch nemesis--" They snatched at Hero's lapels, yanking them down into a stoop, glaring eye-to-eye. "Is that what's going on here? Am I boring, Hero? You'd rather fucking fight them?!"
It had to hurt, opening their eyes so wide against such deep purple rings. Crusty, at the very least.
"What? No! They just- That's not- I can't choose to not fight them, Villain. They make schemes and I'm required to thwart them."
"But you're supposed to fight me more!"
Hero stared at them for a long minute, studying. Villain fought the urge to smack them. "You've never had a problem with this before."
An awful look of understanding dawned over the hero's face, and Villain shoved away-- Hero caught them by the arms, holding them in place. "You said something about the press?"
"I said nothing." The grip was tighter than anticipated.
"Honey, you know they say all sorts of things-"
"And I don't care! They can say whatever the hell they want, it's not like I'm listening!"
Hero leaned in criminally close. "You know they're wrong, right? You're still my arch nemesis,"
Villain weighed the outcome of taking out the left knee.
"my greatest enemy, my eternal opponent--" Hero slid their hands up and over Villain's, squeezing gently. The shiver could not be suppressed.
"And I'll make sure they know it, next time I have an interview."
They pressed a little further, straightening their back enough to loom just over Villain's head. "I'll let the world know it."
"They don't-- I don't-" Villain struggled to crane their neck back for a few moment, before giving up entirely and dropping their head forward into Hero's chest. Better to not look them in the face, anyway. "That's not..."
They felt Hero's chin rest atop their head.
"I will, you know. As many times as necessary, until no one can question it. I swear."
They sighed, and Villain felt the hero's weight start to shift forward, sagging down into them.
"In the meantime, can you dial the villainy back a little?" Hero stifled a low groan, muscles tensing briefly before they slumped forward fully. "... just a bit, Dear, please.... I haven't slept in a week."
321 notes · View notes
thepenultimateword · 17 hours ago
Could you please write something where a civilian is the hero’s (who is a kid/teen hero) schools librarian or teacher. Who is looking out for them and helping with planning and tactic of fighting the villain. But along the way civilian and villain start falling for one another to the annoyance and reluctant support of the little hero. And perhaps villain taking it easy on fights not wanting to put civilian or the little hero in danger. Please and thank you! Love your writing!
"Just a moment!" Civilian called at the library door's signature screeeech. They'd already talked to the school board several times about ungumming the hinges or replacing the doors or something, but as usual, the library wasn't top of the list for school funds. But of course, the football team was definitely cleared to go to Disneyland if they won State next month because that was an important experience for 25 students it benefitted.
Civilian did their best not to slam the books down as they finished unloading their book cart, but they couldn't help if a few of the bigger volumes made a louder thud than the rest. Calm. Caaaalm. They couldn't afford to scare away a potential reader; the library was empty enough as it was. If it declined anymore they wouldn't be allowed to make any more book orders, and admittedly, those were largely personal.
Civilian forced a cheery voice as they popped out from around the bookshelf. "Alright, how can I help--"
A pair of slitted, bottle-green eyes flashed up from the little pith helmeted bobblehead wobbling on the edge of Civilian's desk. At the sight of Civilian, a strange grin--almost a snarl--curled the corners of their mouth, revealing one large fang that poked unnaturally thick and long over their bottom lip. Not a student. Not a teacher. A stranger. No, if only they were that. Civilian may have never met Villain in person before, but that didn't mean they couldn't recognize them. There were really only so many fiamora running around.
"Well, well," they purred silkily, stalking closer, shoulders rolled forward like the predator they were. "Who would have thought. Hero's beloved mentor a defenseless little librarian?"
Civilian should have made a run for one of the doors. Maybe the one on the left side leading into the parking lot. They should have banked on Villain's unfamiliarity and their own experience with the room. Instead, they did what most prey do under panic: they backed deeper into their hole.
"Oh, don't run away," Villain cooed as Civilian retreated amongst the bookshelves.
Civilian ducked out of one aisle and into another and then another. If they knew anything about fiamora, and they liked to flatter themself that they did, they couldn't stay in one spot for too long. Or repeat the same movement too many times. The creatures had premonitory abilities, especially acute when hunting, and anything stagnant or in a rhythm was clear to their mind's eye. Unfortunately, there was only so much you could do in an endless line of shelves.
"You're just running in circles," Villain said from the next aisle over.
Civilian's heart rose into their throat, clogging their airway with the heaviness of their pulse. Maybe-- Maybe if they climbed one of the shelves? That was different. Right? They started scaling anyway.
"I have to say, I admire your work. But I'm a little disappointed today. Maybe your tactics aren't so great under pressure. Or maybe you don't know how to apply them to yourself. Is that why you rely on the wits of a teenager?"
Villain pounced around the corner.
Civilian jumped, losing their balance on the third shelf and falling back against the bookshelf behind them with a frantic flap of their arms. Several fantasy novels thunked to the floor.
Villain roared with laughter then dropped the remains of their chuckles into a low throaty hum. The tufted end of their tail skimmed over the book spines as they prowled closer.
Civilian attempted to scramble to their feet, but too late. Villain’s clawed hands slammed down on the shelf to either side of them. Trapped.
"You know, I really wasn't expecting you," Villain mused. "All those tactics and plans. I thought for sure you were some sort of mage or at the very least, a retired hero. So where did you get all that knowledge?"
"Books mostly," Civilian said. It was meant to sound wry, but with the walls of their throat constricted around their heartbeat, it came out squeaky. They cleared their throat. "How did you find me?"
Villain's tail wrapped around Civilian's ankle. "The kid's smart, but they're not exactly infallible. Five different routes to this school after our fights? It threw me off for a while, but what are 8 months in the grand scheme of things?"
Stupid. Civilian was so stupid. They had told Hero to change up the routes to get here, but the kid couldn't make up more than what was available. They should have started meeting in other locations as well. This had always just been such a convenient location it never occurred to them... They'd thought themself so intelligent like one of the adventurous scholars in their books. But they really were just an inexperienced nobody who'd barely stepped out of their hometown. If they died it was their own fault. They just hoped someone other than Hero found them.
They looked up helplessly into Villain's eyes. That color wasn't common in humans, and it was much brighter in a living host than the formaldehyde-soaked samples shown to them in lectures.
"Are you going to kill me?" They heard themself say, slightly mesmerized.
"Oh, I don't know," Villain grinned, bending in closer. "I doubt Hero would be much fun without you. But then again, they have been an irritating thorn in my side. Maybe I should end it here."
The overhead lights glinted off their saber tooth. Only one. That was strange. Had they lost one? But the one they did have was so small. Maybe they'd lost both and the left was growing back in faster. Or perhaps Civilian's theories on the fiamora's age had been wrong.
“Um, is that new?” They didn't know why they said it. They were about to be torn apart, and they were wondering about their would-be murderer's fangs?
The slits in Villain's eye blew out a little. They cocked their head. “Huh?”
“The saber tooth," Civilian clarified. "There’s only one, but quite a few fiamora lines are genetically prone to one starter tooth growing in late, and this one only just curls over your lip so, that makes me think it may be your first one?”
What were they doing?
Villain pulled back a little, all traces of mischief vanished from their expression. “So you think the second one will still come in?”
“How long since the first one came in?” Civilian asked. They just couldn't help themself.
“A couple months.”
“Worry after 6 months. It's still within the bounds of initial maturity."
Villain sat back on their heels with a sigh. Their tail still wrapped around Civilian's leg, and the end now subconciously brushed the inside of their calf.
"Thank the ancients. You have no idea how worried I was, and with no one to talk about it, I never thought it might be genetic."
Civilian nodded knowingly. "Right, fiamora don't live in packs and your mothers leave before your teeth come in. I can imagine that sort of solitary living would be hard when you have questions. Well, actually, I never thought about it until now. It never occurred to me that you might want to talk to another of your kind. The books always made it sound like you wanted to be alone. That's my mistake."
Villain stared at them. Civilian flinched. They had started talking to them like some sort of specimen. What was wrong with them? They were definitely going to die now. Change the subject! Change the subject!
"You know, Hero never really described you, so I worried we were dealing with some sort of ancient." Civilian chuckled lamely. Something strange was happening to them. An edge that didn't come from a fear of dying. "What a relief."
"The tyke never described you much either," Villain said, closing in again. "Safety reasons I'm sure."
That saber tooth was so fascinating. How sharp was the point? The books said they tore into flesh like butter, but did that come with bite force or innate sharpness? Maybe...maybe they could touch it.
They stopped their hand inches away. Were they concussed or something? Sticky warmth gathered on the back of their head where they hit the bookshelf, so maybe. In any case, they were being weird!
Villain stared at their extended hand for a moment then plopped their cheek into their palm. A violent shiver ran up Civilian's arm.
"I...er...I wasn't..."
"You like fiamoras?" Villain said, eyes looking up at them intensly.
Civilian swallowed. "Yes. I have a degree in other worldly creatures, but, um, I wrote my thesis on fiamoras, so... Yes."
"Lucky you. I like bespectacled humans who read lots of books."
"Oh," was all Civilian could think to say as the villain leaned in closer. Their breath tickled warm against their cheek.
"Your head is bleeding," Villain said, thumbing the sticky part of Civilian's head.
"I'll put a bandage on it later," Civilian said, unable to take their eyes off the villain's looming face.
Villain's nose brushed against their temple as they brought their mouth to the hollow of their ear. "Your Hero is coming."
"That's fine." How could anything have such beautiful eyes? The more Civilian looked into them, the less real they seemed. More like something out of a dream. They could stare at them all-- "Hold on, what did you say?"
"What the--" Hero stood at the end of the aisle with their hands thrown over their face, body doubled over as if in excruciating pain. "Agh! My eyes! What are you even doing?"
"Hero!" Civilian cried. "This isn't-- Nothing is-- They came to kill me!"
"I think I'm going to throw up," Hero gagged.
"I'm serious! This is a murder situation!"
Villain's tail loosed from Civilian's ankle, and they brushed off the knees of their trousers as they straightened up.
"It was nice meeting you, Civilian. Let's do it again. But maybe next time somewhere more private?" They turned away from Civilian's burning face and toward Hero. "See you around, kiddie."
They shot the teenager a wink as they passed by, and the shriek of the door announced their leave.
"I wasn't going to kiss them," Civilian deadpanned, gathering up the stray novels into their arms.
"Your lips were like this!" Hero said, pinching their thumbs and forefingers together and holding them just shy of touching.
"I was looking at their saber tooth. That's it. I've never seen a fiamora so close up before. I was curious."
"Oh yeah, I bet you were curious about that tooth. Curious how it'd feel in your mouth."
"What?" Hero cried defensively. "I'm just saying!"
"It's disrespectful and distasteful and you're too young to talk about it anyway."
"Too young to talk about kissing?"
"Too young to talk to me about my dating life. Nothing happened. It was...it was a typical hero/villain hostage situation. Like in the movies. I'm glad you walked in on it."
Hero raised their eyebrows at them, unconvinced, but instead of saying anything, they began picking up books too.
The air conditioning hummed in the stretched silence as they read labels and re-alphabetized each row, but Civilian's face still felt hot.
They had to be grateful it was Hero and not another student who had seen them in that situation. The library had enough issues without adding 'promiscuous librarian' to it. How would they have explained to the board that it was actually a villain making an attempt on their life--because that was exactly what it was--, not a visiting lover and that they’d tracked them down because they were secretly helping the city's hero with battle planning in their off-hours? Even if they believed them, it still meant they'd potentially put students in danger. They would have been fired for sure.
They pressed their palm to their forehead. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
"It'd punch a hole through your lip," Hero said suddenly.
"The tooth. If you kissed, it would totally tear through your lip, or your cheek, or your gums. I've kissed people before, and it's basic mechanics."
"And you think I haven't?" Civilian cried. What did the kid take them for? "Obviously, I would kiss around it!" They froze, a furious blush warming their neck and ears. "N-not that I would ever kiss Villain in the first place. That would be...morally compromising. Probably."
Hero narrowed their eyes. "Should I be worried about you joining the dark side out of fatuous love?"
"No!" Where did the kid even learn terms like that? Maybe Civilian needed to dumb down their conversations a little. "Even if I were to for whatever reason date Villain, which I'm not, it would never change my position on what's good and bad. I could never ever turn my back on you."
Hero sighed. "Alright, I trust you. If you promise you'll still be on my side, I guess you have my permission to make out with my nemesis."
Civilian smacked Hero upside the head with a paperback. "That's enough of that. Do your homework."
85 notes · View notes
silver-ink-iron-words · 19 hours ago
Can you continue this?
Hell yeah I can! Thank you for the request!
Trying to Leave, Part 2
Part 1
“It’s been two days, you need to eat,” the villain said, shutting the door behind them.
“Sure, give me the keys and I’ll just go drive to the nearest McDonalds.”
From the outset, it looked like a normal bedroom. All the restraints and visible cameras had been removed. But the door was always locked, and the glass on the window was reinforced.
The villain sighed and put the plate on the desk, next to the civilian’s untouched breakfast. “Will you at least look at me?”
The civilian dragged their gaze from the wall and leveled it at the villain.
The villain ran a hand through their hair. Now they were the one who wanted to look away. “Look, I know I fucked up . . .”
“Oh really.”
“But I’m trying to fix things.” They gestured to the food. “I’m trying to make it better.”
The civilian let out an incredulous laugh and cast their eyes away again, this time to the window.
“It’s not like it’s completely my fault,” the villain said, anger flaring. “Testing your loved ones . . . that’s a pretty toxic thing to do, [Civilian].”
The civilian raised their eyebrows. “You’re really going to stand there and try to tell me about toxic?”
The villain looked down, chastened. “No. I just . . .”
“No, no. I want to hear this, [Villain]. Tell me about everything that I’ve done wrong.”
The villain groaned, pressing their palms into their eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to let me go, you asshole!”
The villain lowered their arms, balling their hands into fists. “No. You are never leaving me again.”
The civilian’s voice turned dangerously cool. “I think it’s time you got the fuck out.”
The villain was happy to oblige.
_ _ _
Later that evening, the villain heard a crash from the civilian’s bedroom.
They sprinted, and wrenched the door open to find the shattered remains of a dinner plate all over the floor. The civilian was holding their bleeding foot.
Surveying the damage, the villain realized that the civilian had thrown the plate at the window. To no avail, however. The glass wasn’t even cracked.
The villain stepped forward slowly, and bent over, picking up a shard. “This plate can never be fixed, can it?”
The civilian looked up, gaze wary. “No,” they said after a moment. “It can’t.”
The villain threw the shard away and stood. Something has darkened in their expression. “So I suppose, then, there’s no reason to worry about breaking it further.”
50 notes · View notes
save-the-villainous-cat · 18 hours ago
Are you taking request? Just in case you do, here's some sweets for u 🍦🍦🍬
I think about dead!hero and a villain who traveled back to the day before the tragedy, try to warn hero not to go, but hero, as always, being a stubborn brat that they are, ignore what villain said. Therefore, villain need to follow them around like a puppy to prevent the hero doing something that potentially could kill them.
“Would you just listen to me for one second?!” The villain grabbed the hero’s wrist (big mistake) and seized them towards themselves (even bigger mistake).
The hero reacted with zero hesitation.
In seconds, they twisted the villain’s wrist and fixed it with their free hand on the nearest wall. They pushed themselves against the villain and thus had them in place instantly.
“Okay. Fine. You’re from the future and I presumably die today. You, my arch nemesis care so much about me that you invented time travel to save me. Do you realise how fucking stupid that sounds?”
Well, it was the truth. The truth could be stupid, couldn’t it?
“You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you? I mean, you’ll probably kidnap me. You’re a contract killer. Do you think I’m gonna believe you?” the hero asked.
It was a blessing to see them. And it was heaven to feel their skin on the villain’s. They had missed their hero so much. Even though the villain wanted to hug them forever and never let go, they also knew that the hero wasn’t in the mood for that.
“Look, it sounds so crazy because it is. But it’s the truth. I don’t know what killed you. No one does. But I won’t let that happen.”
The hero scoffed. “Why would you…”
They turned around to make sure no one was watching them.
“It doesn’t make sense. Why would you care?”
“Because I do,” the villain said. “The whole city is fucked up after your death.”
“And since when do you care about the city?” the hero asked, their grip on the villain loosening. Their expression wasn’t as hard as before.
“Other villains are in charge now. It’s difficult for work.”
“Ah.” The hero let go of them fully, their mind obviously reeling. “And here I thought you cared about me.”
“So you believe me?” the villain asked.
“I…” The hero looked them up and down. “I don’t know, yet. You seem desperate. And older.”
The villain sighed, completely relieved. This was something at least.
“I promise I’ll take care of you today. It’s just for today.” The hero looked at them, still a bit judging until they finally rolled their eyes.
“Ugh, sure. You can carry my groceries.”
76 notes · View notes
saltydumplings · 2 months ago
Snippet #5.1
Part 1
The supervillain stood seemingly perplexed, not knowing how such a thing could have happened. They released their grip on the hero's hair and stepped back a little, eyeing the other as if trying to determine if they were lying or not.
"I've seen those paychecks - I know how much you earn - how? How could you possibly be in debt?"
They noticed then how the hero's mouth started to tremble a little, tears starting to gather in their eyes as they began to explain in full:
"It just started off as a little, you know? I-If something got damaged then they'd take five percent. I thought it was fair - we all did - we never thought that..." The hero had to take a few steadying breaths before continuing. "Five became ten, and then ten became twenty. S-sometimes they'd take up to forty percent if they deemed the damage big enough, and even then we kind of understood but when...when they..."
The supervillain had never seen the hero look so distraught. They loosened their binds absentmindedly, continuing to listen closely as the other spoke.
"Last week a villain wrecked almost half the city. I led the the team that stopped them but when it came to the costs they - they said that--" The hero hiccupped a little as they started to cry properly, no longer able to hold back their tears. "They said it was all my fault - that I should have been able to stop them sooner and because I didn't that the cost laid solely on me. But I - I didn't have enough: they took everything I had and told me I had to find a way to pay the rest soon. I tried arguing back, saying it wasn't fair - I expected the other heroes to say something, to stand up for me at least but no one said a goddamn word. When the decision was made one of them even came up to me and simply said that someone had to take the fall and I just--"
The hero broke off, they couldn't bring themself to say any more. By now the supervillain had released them fully and had come to kneel opposite them, resting their hands upon the hero's shoulders as they cried. A deep anger grew inside them, the power coursing through their veins practically ready to burst but they held it back, instead guiding the hero's head to their chest and beginning to rub soothing circles into their back. The hero startled a little at the sudden comfort but was too far gone to resist it, soon clinging to the supervillain with all the strength they had, burying their face as much as they could into the other's shoulder.
They stayed like that for a long time. As much as the supervillain had insisted patience wasn't one of their virtues, the hero's grief seemed to be an exception. After a while, they decided a change of scenery was needed and scooped the hero up into their arms, the other letting out a small gasp and hanging onto the supervillain's shoulders tightly as they came to stand. The hero didn't make any move to resist though, simply burying their face in the supervillain's neck - their sobs reduced to silent tears and small sniffles.
The supervillain moved slowly down one corridor and another, soon coming out of the maze of hallways to a lounge. There was a large red couch at it's centre and they lowered themself onto it, carefully arranging the hero to sit in their lap so they could continue to hold them close. The hero blushed at the sudden change but simply let it be - in any other situation they'd have been too embarrassed to stay but right here, right now, they needed this. Needed them. And on top of it all, a part of them was afraid that if they let the supervillain go then they'd lose the only fragment of hope they had left.
Minutes passed and neither of them moved. A short while longer and the hero finally gained the courage to lift their head a little, still clinging to the supervillain tightly as they came to speak.
"You're not going to kill me for breaking into your house, are you?" they asked timidly.
As much as they were seeking comfort from them, the hero couldn't forget exactly who they were cuddling with in that moment. The supervillain was feared for a reason: no one that crossed them got away lightly, and the hero had not only tried to steal from them but had also broken down crying in their arms - something they suspected was quite the inconvenience for the other. But, to their surprise, the supervillain merely huffed a laugh at their question, one of their hands coming up to stroke through the hero's hair.
"No, darling, I won't kill you," the supervillain said. The hero relaxed instantly, allowing themself to lean into the other's touch. "But that doesn't mean I won't still punish you."
The supervillain smiled as they watched the hero register their words, their eyes widening slightly.
"Indeed," they continued, "I can't simply let you go: if I did people would get the wrong impression - think I've gone soft." Their hands moved down to the hero's waist, their thumbs tracing small circles in an almost contemplative manner. "Your punishment, Hero, is that you must stay here, for as long as I please."
For the first time since the supervillain had embraced them, the hero came to look upon their captor, pulling back a little as their mind fell into a strange mix of relief and worry.
"B-but I can't," the hero said. "I can't stay I - I have to--"
"You don't have to do anything."
"No, but, I-I owe them: if I don't pay then--"
"You owe them nothing," the supervillain insisted, voice suddenly sharp with rage. And the hero could see it then - see the anger burning behind their eyes, all that power right on the verge of lashing out. "They stole from you. If anyone owes anything it's them."
"But my--"
The supervillain pressed a finger to the hero's lips, silencing any argument they could make. "You don't need your license anymore. As long as you are under this roof you will not do a single thing for those bastards. They don't deserve you and, until they realise that, they can't have you."
Part 3
362 notes · View notes
watercolorfreckles · 5 months ago
Writing Snippet - Glass Haven
Thanks to @writing-on-the-wahl and @valiantlytransparentwhispers for helping me a lil with brainstorming. This is a longish one, hope you enjoy :)
Most of the time, Civilian preferred plants to people. They listened better than anyone she knew and they expected nothing of her but to be nurtured and cared for. She could appreciate that.
Civilian crouched to water the plants lined on the floor of the rooftop greenhouse, being careful to give them each the proper amount.
She could get lost in the quiet comfort of it all, in the soothing blanket of dappled greens and fading sunlight in her little glass haven.
The ferns swayed in a lazy dance as Civilian gave them their daily drink of water. The little patch of fuscia-pink petunias hanging above them soaked in the waning sun, a warm glow gently washing the glass walls in an orange hue.
Without warning, the silence cracked.
The door to the rooftop crashed against the wall as it was thrown open. The sound sliced through Civilian's quiet world of calm, sending her heart leaping into her mouth.
Two sets of footsteps crunched against the ground.
"Hey, hey- I swear I had nothing to do with that plot, it wasn't me who ratted you out!" a panicked voice, one she didn't recognize, said.
Civilian peeked up over the gardenias to see what was going on. A taller man dragged the first forward by the back of his neck. The panicked man's shoes scuffed at the ground.
The taller one--
Villian, Civilian realized with a sickening knot in her stomach--
-flashed his teeth in a lethal smile, shaking his head in seeming disappointment. "Now, now, Todd. Don't you know how much I loathe liars?" His smile dropped. "I'm feeling generous, I'll give you one chance not to do it again."
The other man--Todd--was shaking like an autumn leaf, holding his hands up in a placating gesture as Villain shoved him to stumble a few steps forward.
"I swear, sir, I didn't, I-"
Villain tsked, his expression one of casual boredom. Only his eyes, which locked onto the man with laser-focus, revealed otherwise. He stepped closer. Civilian heard Todd's breathing hitch as Villain reached out, straightening the other man's collar.
Tension hung like static in the air.
"Wrong answer."
Villain seized hold of the man by his coat, throwing him straight through the wall of the greenhouse with inhuman strength.
Civilian shrieked as the glass shattered, shards peppering her hair as Todd rolled to stop unconscious at her feet. She yelped again at the sight, scurrying back on her hands and knees.
Scrambling to her feet, Civilian jerked the door open--running straight into a solid chest.
She made an embarrassing squeak at the impact, looking up at Villain's face. He was comprised of sharp edges and artful contours, as if his features were chiseled from stone. The light of the setting sun caught in his eyes. They were a cat-like green that seemed to radiate under the sun's glow.
Oh no.
Civilian shifted her body so that she was no longer between Villain and the greenhouse. Her gaze didn't waver from him as she slowly backed away.
Villain watched her with interest, matching each of her backward steps with one toward her. "Well, well. What do we have here?"
The air around her felt too thick, too suffocating.
"I haven't done anything," she managed quietly, taking a cautious step further away from him.
She felt like a gazelle trying to sneak past a lion.
Villain stepped closer.
"You were watching me and my, ahh, business associate."
His voice was smooth and steady. His piercing gaze dipped over her, assessing.
"You-You broke my greenhouse." Hers came out raspy. Raw at the edges and entirely too frightened.
Villain hummed at that. His gaze flicked behind her briefly, then he took several strides closer, effectively closing the distance between them.
Civilian jolted backward to escape. The soles of her shoes skidded over the rooftop's edge and she teetered backward in a flail of limbs. Her stomach plummeted and bottomed out.
Villain caught her arms just below the wrists, keeping her from falling but holding her off balance.
A choked whimper caught in her throat. Wide-eyed, her gaze snapped back up to the Villain's face.
He tutted, clearly enjoying himself.
"Quite the jumpy kitten you are. So reckless. Have you never been taught to watch where you're going?"
"Please don't drop me," she breathed.
Villain smiled. Too lovely of a thing to suit his face.
"That depends entirely on how you answer my questions, kitten." His tone turned to a velvet purr. "And do be honest with me. My car is somewhere below and I'd hate for you to crush it. I only just replaced my windshield."
Civilian forgot how to breathe. She took a dizzying glance at the ground below, terror seizing her throat.
"Eyes on me, kitten." He sounded a fraction gentler, the corners of his mouth lifting.
Civilian looked up again, swallowing a hard lump that wouldn't go away. Her insides sloshed cold.
"Good girl. Take a breath. Now. What were you doing out here crouched behind some glorified shrubbery? Not spying on me, were you?"
Civilian shook her head vigorously. "Just watering the plants."
Villain cocked his head to the side. "Hmm. You're not working for anyone, then? Hero, perhaps?"
Civilian barked a startled laugh, nervous and ready to burst at the seams. "Do-Do I look like the type of person a hero would ask to help catch you?"
Villain's smile turned more genuine, amusement flickering over his features.
"So you're not a spy, not working for hero. You're not a reporter either?"
She shook her head again. She sucked in a breath and it rattled against her ribcage. "No. I'm just a gardener."
The Villain studied her face. Glanced over his shoulder at the fractured greenhouse behind him, then back at her. His searing attention picked her apart. She felt like she would unravel and unravel until nothing was left.
"You live here in this complex, then?"
Civilian stilled. Considered lying. "Yes."
Villain tugged her onto stable ground, letting her find her footing before steering her away from the edge. He waited until she was steady before letting go.
Civilian felt like she might faint. She needed something small to focus on. She zeroed in on his slender hands, delicate and uncalloused despite all the bloodshed they'd caused.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"Alright, kitten," he purred, tapping her nose, "I believe you."
Civilian gusted out a breath, swaying a few feet back, further into the safety of the center of the roof.
Villain followed her casually and she didn't dare dart away this time.
His gaze wandered over the broken glass of the greenhouse, next seeming to map the dozens of cheery plants inside.
Each meticulously pruned and tended to. Each a demonstration of the time and care put into them.
Villain looked at Civilian again. She stared in mourning at the damage done to her little patch of heaven.
"You really should be more careful," he repeated. His tone shifted teasing, but not cruel. "I have better things to do than rescue kittens from trees, or from falling off rooftops, as the case may be."
She gave a jerky nod, not sure what to say.
He walked to the door leading to the stairwell, glancing back at the civilian before disappearing.
The next morning when she returned to clean the mess, the entire glass wall had been replaced. Inside, was a pot of roses with a note stuck in the soil.
In awe, she picked it up and read.
'I'll knock next time. To add to your collection. -V'
Part 2 Here
General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu-writting , @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted , @pensivespacepirate
I didnt realize the taglist wasn't working againnn when I posted this last night. Tumblr's crappy nonworking tags can catch these hands 😠
577 notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 6 months ago
Could you write a snippet of a villain so horrifying that the hero is scared of them 👹
"Did you think I wouldn't catch up with you eventually?" the villain asked. "That you could fight me, and get away with it?"
"No." The hero wanted to quip something funny and scathing, but their brain buzzed and it was all that they could do to keep their voice even remotely close to steady.
The villain's head tipped to one side, examining them. They were sat on the hero's favourite armchair, in their apartment, seeming perfectly relaxed. Their gloved hands rested lazily against the upholstery. One was black, and one was red. It should have been comic. Garish.
The hero considered turning, considered running as fast as they could back out and into the street and never stopping again.
They knew they wouldn't even make the front door.
"No," the villain echoed. "And yet, you fight. I always find that interesting in your type. I don't think I've ever really fought for anything in my life." They looked a little wistful, like they were curious what that desperation, that struggle, might be like.
The hero swallowed, but it didn't make the terrible dryness in their throat go away. They resisted the urge to wipe their clammy palms on their jeans.
"It felt like the right thing to do, at the time." The words came out raspy. The hero had half feared they wouldn't come out at all. "Willing to die for the cause, and all...that."
"Sit down," the villain said, and gestured at the hero's sofa with the red hand. "You look a little unsteady on your feet."
The hero perched on the edge of the furthest cushion; keeping their gaze fixed on the villain, for all the good that would do them.
"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" the villain asked.
"I've heard stories."
People who met the villain always came home wrong, if they came home at all. They came home like weapons for the other side. For as long as the hero had known, at least half of the resistance's resources had been in making sure that the villain didn't find them.
"You can beg, if you like. Some people find it cathartic. It gives them a sense of agency, of control, like there's something they can do to save themselves."
The hero felt dizzy, like the whole world was tunnelling. "Is there?"
The villain's head tilted the other way with that same quiet assessment. There was something odd about their movements, that the hero couldn't quite put their finger on. Maybe it was too fluid, too smooth, or maybe too slow. Something.
The hero swallowed again, and tried for a smile, painfully aware of how strained it was. "Is there something I can do to save myself?"
"No." The villain offered them a smile back, then. Tender. Like the smile was something they'd practiced, watching other people show compassion. It didn't look right on their face.
"Right." Maybe the hero could throw themselves out of the window. At least, then, whatever came next would be quick.
"You won't die while I'm here," the villain said. They started to pull the black glove off their hand. "You'll just break your spine and not be able to move while I work on you. But, as I said, you can try if you like. If it makes you feel like you're still fighting, in your own little way. I would never deprive you that."
"Kind of you."
"It's no trouble to me."
"Is it true that you once survived having your head cut off?"
The villain set the abandoned glove down on the arm of the chair, before spreading their hands in a go ahead and find out gesture. The revealed skin was so terribly normal looking, for all that it could do.
It could have been a bluff. The hero didn't think it was a bluff. They'd seen a grainy piece of footage once, one of the few the resistance had ever managed to get of the villain. The hero stood, raising a shaking hand in the villain's direction. The villain watched them, still curious, and utterly unafraid.
"Did it hurt?" the hero asked.
"Not as much as what will happen to you. Are you going to fight or not?"
"Does it make a difference to you?"
"Not with you," the villain said. "I cleared out my evening, so I don't have anything else I need to get to tonight. I figured after five years you deserved the courtesy. I quite liked you, you know. For what that's worth."
The hero choked on a laugh, at that. Mirthless. Airless. They wanted to scream, or punch, or cry. Do something anything.
"You like me," they said. "You're going to empty me. There's not going to be any me left in my body. I'd hate to see what you do to somebody you love."
"Maybe one day. Maybe not." The villain shrugged. "It depends how annoying a voice you are in my head - I leave the annoying ones alone in the dark. But you'll be good for me, won't you?"
The hero's heart lurched.
"You will be conscious," the villain said, gently, like they were surprised the hero didn't know. "There is no oblivion waiting for you, no end. Why do you think everyone says I never really let anyone go?"
The hero fought, then.
1K notes · View notes
avvail · a month ago
hellooo!! i hope you’re well :) i was wondering if you could write a snippet about a villain finding an injured hero in an alleyway and the villain takes advantage of their incapacitation. if not, that’s okay, but thanks if you do write it <3
tw: wounds, implied assassination attempt
“Oh.” Villain’s eyes snapped towards the trembling figure on the floor, their lips curling into a crooked smirk. “Hello, Hero.” 
Their body jolted as the voice shuddered down their spine, head snapping towards them abruptly. They grit their teeth together and shuffled backwards, their shoes scraping across the floor. 
“Villain,” the hero bit out, but it was clear they lacked strength. Villain watched them intently as they forced themself onto their feet, hand pressing firmly against their side. They could see that their clothes were soaked with a red liquid, and Hero’s face had lost all of its colour. They swayed uneasily on their feet, before facing the villain with a scowl. 
“Isn’t this interesting?” The villain murmured, catching Hero’s eyes with their own sharp ones. “You’re looking awfully pale, darling. Everything alright?” 
The hero swallowed, seemingly breathless. “Shut up.” 
Villain took a step forward, and the hero braced themselves, shuddering when another cold chill wracked through them. They were so weak like this; could barely even keep themself standing upright. A cold sweat had broken out across their forehead, and Villain knew it would only be a matter of time before they lost their battle to blood loss. 
“How rude,” Villain chastised, relishing in the way they fumbled idiotically on their feet. “You’re still rather arrogant for somebody who can barely stand.” 
The hero’s expression hardened, and their fists clenched in a tidal wave of animosity. Villain saw the punch coming a mile away, keeping themselves planted firmly into the ground, catching the hero’s wrist effortlessly. They twisted the joint awkwardly, making the hero huff and lose the strength in their legs. 
They hummed, raising a brow. “On your knees already?” 
The hero choked back a groan. “Fuck you.” 
They kicked the hero’s shoulder, sending them slamming onto their back. Hero didn’t have time to register the flood of pain through their body before the villain was on top of them, hand wrapped securely around their throat. Their lips were curled into a frustrating smirk. 
“Who did this?” They murmured against their lips, their other hand sliding down to the blood soaked shirt. Hero stiffened under their touch and lamely kicked their legs across the floor. They huffed, already out of breath. 
“Nobody,” they panted, a dryness creeping up their throat. “And even then, why the hell would I tell you—” 
Villain dug their fingers into Hero’s wound, causing a dizzying wave of agony to slam into them. They choked out, grasping desperately onto the villain’s shoulders. 
“Mugger!” They cried out, tears burning in their eyes. “It was a— fucking mugger, now please—” 
“A mugger?” The villain snorted. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” 
“I promise, please—” The hero’s voice broke. “T-They just caught me off guard.” 
“How shocking.”
“They didn’t take anything.” 
Villain fingers tightened. “Then they weren’t really a mugger, were they?” 
Hero eyes snapped open, a cry of pain tearing from their throat. They tried desperately pushing the villain away, but there was no strength behind it. 
“I didn’t know who it was!” Hero bit out, pushing their head back into the ground and releasing a string of pathetic whimpers. When their eyes started rolling to the back of their head, Villain released their grip, and lazily wiped the blood on their pant leg. They bundled the hero carefully into their arms, patting their shoulder lightly in mock pity.
“Calling them a mugger,” Villain chuckled,” will really bash Assassin’s ego, darling.”
367 notes · View notes
"Please," the villain whispered.
They didn't fight as they were thrown into the cell, only stared at the hero with pleading eyes so full of guilt and regret—and so at odds with the cruel, merciless eyes of the villain who had slaughtered innocents and leveled cities without a second thought.
"Please, just one more chance. I'm trying—I'm trying so hard to be better, for you," they pleaded, kneeling on the floor of the cell. "Please, please don't leave me here again—"
"You're out of chances," the hero said—cold, unflinching, apathetic. They should have felt some pride at the sight of the mighty villain kneeling, begging at their feet, but they were so tired of dealing with this, of putting up with the same act over and over again, that they felt nothing.
And whatever small part of the hero that had tried, over and over again, to hope, to forgive... it shattered as they slammed the cell door shut on the villain.
278 notes · View notes
promptspa · 6 days ago
Random prompt #60
Done With Everything ™️Detective is stuck with a completely eccentric, obsessed villain who was never taught to show affection or love is a wonderful trope that's growing in my mind like a plant.
Villain quickly leapt down from their perch on the railing, staring at Detective with a much too happy gaze, basically bouncing on their feet as they placed their hands on their shoulders. "No one's ever been able to get out of my traps!" They gush, practically buzzing excitement. "Not even hero!" Detective merely raised an eyebrow slightly, asking a silent question. They seemed much too tired to Villain, and yet they had undone the complex wiring of their trap without a problem. And then they had slipped from the grip on their shoulders and turned around, stalking off with their hands tucked in their pockets. In turn, Villain quickly caught up to them in a few rushed strides, practically tripping over their own feet. "Wait! You can't just leave! Not yet!" "Watch me." The reply was sour and blunt from Detective, who glared at the floor as they walked. Barely a sound left their mouth as they were lifted into the villain's arms, held tightly against their chest. "You can try - or, um, won't you stay for dinner?" "Will you give me coffee?" "Of course!" "Then fine."
177 notes · View notes