Tumgik
#hero villain angst
writingpromptsworld · 1 month
Text
Prompt #67
By @writingpromptsworld
When the villain woke up, they did not expect to find themselves tied to a bed, their hands and legs binded. Their eyes shot out of their sockets, eyebrows frowning, as their hands twitched by their side to be let free. Panic. They could make out a patient gown that they were wearing for reasons unknown.
They struggled against the heavy metal chain that somehow seemed to wait more by the passing second. However, it wasn’t long before footsteps could be faintly heard coming towards them. Realization.
They held their breath, frozen, and their head throbbed in response. The hero. It was the hero, with a grin well too ingrained in the villain’s head, it was impossible to erase it.
They clenched their jaw at the sight of smiling teeth, and snatched at the chains again which in response tightened, and they let out a scream.
The hero shook their head with a sigh. “Don’t. Don’t try to be free of them, they’ll only strengthen in result.” They said.
The villain stayed silent for a moment, after stopping the fumbling around. They breathed heavily, looking at the hero. “Let me go.” They said, weakly, however the hero could detect the underline of threat they were trying to seep into their words. It didn’t work.
“No. I’m having way too much fun seeing you like this. Finally under my control.” The hero mused, smirking slightly.
“Let. Me. Go.” The villain repeated themself, clenching their jaw which increased the hammering of the headache.
The hero simply sighed again, as if in disappointment. They lightly treaded the ground until they were in front of the villain. “How about you stay still and wait until the scientists come, mhmm? They should be here any moment.”
The villain’s heart raced further, fear and confusion and anger filled their eyes, and they couldn’t help but grab at the chains again in order to espace. “What do you mean?” They asked, voice high but at the same time so afraid. And if it were anyone other than the hero, they wouldn’t have detected it. The hero did, however. And they took great pleasure in it.
“They’re going to experiment on you a little. See what goes in that little head of yours.” The hero smiled, delighted.
The villain’s anger only grew, and they tried to wrestle the chains again. It didn’t help, only made them cry out in sheer pain. They threw curses at the hero. Threats, promises to destroy the hero and the city, but it wasn’t enough. The hero had left by the time the villain was too tired to fight. And they had drifted off to sleep, more like fainted of dizziness.
The drugs did work, the hero pondered, walking out of the room.
112 notes · View notes
chaotic-orphan · 3 months
Note
Hi, hope you’re having a nice day!! Love your writing :) Could you please continue heroic betrayal if you’re planning to?? Not to rush you or anything, it’s just got me slightly hooked oops! Thank you!! :)
HEROIC BETRAYAL (6)
Part one here
Continued from here
This part has had so many drafts, so so many, because I couldn’t get Supervillain right at all, and today? For some reason! It all just flowed! So you are in luck! It’s the paddy’s day weekend, struck gold! Enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*
They walked in a tense silence that made Hero squirm. The two of them were always chatting, or having banter back and forth. When they fell into a silence it was an easy one that never felt awkward or uncomfortable. Now, with Flynn marching Hero up a set of stairs, it felt as if they were two strangers. As if Flynn was actually a Villain.
He is, a voice sniped in the back of Hero’s mind. Flynn is a villain. The lie was his Hero façade.
Hero kept their guard up as they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs. Hero expected to be greeted with the view of a warehouse, or some top secret villain base. Maybe something from the movies, or an equal to the Hero tower HQ.
Instead, their gaze found a house. Hero frowned, wanting to turn their head and comment on it to Flynn but they didn’t. They refused. Flynn didn’t deserve their comments or thoughts on anything anymore.
“Through here,” said Flynn, pulling Hero to the right. Hero caught only a glance of the framed pictures hanging on the wall, of Flynn and Villain as children and a man and woman smiling in the picture above them. Hero swallowed.
Were they in Flynn’s childhood home this entire time?
It’s not what Hero expected at all. It was clean, almost pristinely so with wooden oak floors and a warm, homely feel to it. Clean and yet lived in.
Hero closed their lips, and just let Flynn guide them through another door into a dining room. Hero’s brows raised to the ceiling, looking at Flynn in question before they could help it.
Flynn curled his top lip inward, his tell for when he was embarrassed. “Supervillain insisted,” he said by way of explanation and brought Hero to the end of the table. It sat six people, two chairs on each end and two on both sides.
Flynn pulled out Hero’s chair and quirked his lips at them. “Can I trust you not to do something stupid?”
“You can always stop me if I do,” Hero replied sweetly, sugared smile not quite meeting their eyes.
Flynn’s smile was cold in return. “I can. Or Villain, whichever is quicker.”
Hero felt that cruel pang of betrayal bloom in their heart like a rose’s thorns wrapped thick around it. Hero didn’t reply to that, they just sat down on the chair lifting their handcuffed hands onto the wooden table and let Flynn push in their chair.
Flynn sat beside them, on their right. Hero could have laughed at the horribleness of it all. Flynn sat on Hero’s right because after endless sparring they had both realised it was Hero’s weaker hand. If Hero was going to do something stupid, going for their right hand side would be easier to subdue than their left.
How had they not seen the warning signs? How had they not realised that Flynn was working against them this entire time?
Hero trusted them. They thought if the world ever went to shit, or turned against them, Hero could turn to Flynn and still find a home in him.
Now all their trust was twisted against them mercilessly, and Flynn was a stranger who could smile at them with a bloodied face — and possibly broken nose — and threaten to have the person who broke it hurt them more.
Hero heard movement and voices behind the two doors in front of them, different than the door that Flynn and Hero entered the room through. There was a lively bustling of movement and then a man in his late thirties, early forties walked through the doors with a wide friendly smile holding two plates of something.
He had wavy brown hair, slightly overgrown around the edges, some strands tucked behind his ears Hero noticed. His eyes were sea-coloured, somewhere between green and blue, but shining with a happiness that Hero didn’t expect of Supervillain.
Then it hit Hero that they were staring at Supervillain. The Supervillain! Hero’s nemesis, their foe— the man who was always one step ahead of Hero. Hero glanced at Flynn, almost mutinously before Supervillain drew Hero’s attention back to them.
Supervillain set a plate of food in front of Hero with a big smile, then walked around Hero and placed one in front of Flynn. It was what looked like roast chicken and green beans and roast potatoes. Hero stared down at it, their mouth watering slightly and a gnawing yearning in their gut for food.
How long had they been here? Overnight at least because it was day time at the moment. Hero looked at Flynn. Flynn glanced at Hero then to Hero’s plate and dragged it over to him.
“Hey—”
“Relax, I’m just cutting up your chicken. You’re not getting a knife.”
Hero waited, watching Flynn cut up the food. Then they sat back against their chair, eyes going to the doors to see Supervillain was gone. Flynn pushed Hero’s plate back in front of them. Then Supervillain came through again followed closely by Villain, a shadow like fist holding something that was dropped in front of Hero. It smacked against the table lightly with a bounce and Hero realised it was a plastic fork.
Everyone else had proper utensils.
Hero waited until Supervillain and Villain sat down before speaking. “If you think I’m eating this, you’re dumber than I thought.”
Supervillain’s smile didn’t dim. “As you like it, Hero. Though, if I drugged you with the chicken or the vegetables I would have drugged us all.”
Hero didn’t move to grab the fork, no matter how much their stomach wanted them to. Flynn grabbed Hero’s plate, “we can swap if you like.”
Hero’s head snapped to him. “And how do I know this wasn’t all some planned ploy?”
“You don’t,” said Flynn honestly, meeting Hero’s gaze earnestly. Hero had to look away before they cried. Stupid fucking Flynn.
“If I may,” said Supervillain, his voice smooth and steady, drawing Hero’s gaze. “If I wanted to starve you, I wouldn’t have plated you up a meal. I would have handcuffed you to the chair and let you smell the food and watch us eat.”
Hero swallowed, gaze hardening into a glare as Supervillain tilted his head and shrugged lightly. “However, if you don’t want to eat I won’t force you.”
Hero sat back stubbornly, eyes not leaving Supervillain as he tucked into his divine smelling meal.
“Flynn said you wanted to talk to me.”
“I do,” Supervillain replied. “As soon as we have eaten. It’s bad for the stomach to mix work and pleasure.”
Hero blinked at him, then stared back at their plate. The steam was still rising from it, begging for Hero to eat it. Hero swallowed again, finally reaching for the fork that was discarded in front of their plate.
Nobody at the table made any remarks as Hero took their first bite of chicken. They didn’t even feel eyes on them as they ate, and with every bite the possibility of the food being drugged became less and less important as they filled the hole in their stomach.
All too soon their plate was empty and Hero set their fork back on the plate, sitting back in their seat, satisfied. Supervillain smiled at them from across the table.
“Well?”
Hero swallowed. “Really good.”
Supervillain’s smile beamed at them. “Good. Flynn, would you and Villain mind cleaning up?”
Flynn’s eyes went between Hero and Supervillain, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Supervillain looked at him. It stifled the words in his throat and he nodded and gathered his and Hero’s plate. “Sure.”
Villain did the same with their and Supervillain’s plate. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”
Flynn cast one last look over his shoulder at Hero, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then the double doors shut on both of them and it was just Hero and Supervillain alone.
Hero’s chest got tighter at the realisation. How many times had they longed to get to sit down with Supervillain and pick his brain on his strategies and plans? How long had they wanted to know his motivations behind it all? What the bigger picture was…
Now, Hero wanted to be anywhere but here.
Supervillain leaned forward, elbows resting on the table hands folded in front of him. “Flynn tells me you’re a fan of mine.”
Hero scoffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call myself a fan.”
“Of course,” he replied pleasantly. “A hero would never admire a villain after all.”
“That’s in the job description.”
“Tell me, did you ever admire Flynn?”
Hero’s eyes snapped back to Supervillain. His smile was less pleasant now, more shrewd. Intelligent, inquisitive, intimidating— his eyes narrowed in curiosity, the corners of his lips still quirked into a smile.
“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He was always a Villain.”
“Yes. However, that is not what I asked you.” Supervillain said lightly, not letting Hero off the hook. Hero swallowed in reply. “Did you ever admire Flynn?”
“Yes,” said Hero patiently. They couldn’t lose their cool now, they had to match Supervillain’s relaxed demeanour. “He was my partner. Obviously I admired him.”
Supervillain let out a breath. “Tut, tut, Hero. He’s a villain. How can a Hero ever admire a Villain?”
“If you want to get into some philosophical debate I’d rather Villain bash my nose against the bars of my cell again.”
Supervillain’s lips pursed. “If you like.”
The words ran like cold water down Hero’s spine. “However,” he continued, “I’d rather pick your brain before Villain rips it from your skull.”
Hero swallowed the lump that was rising in their throat. How can he be so nonchalant about telling Hero that he had no reservations about Villain killing them? It isn’t anything like Hero thought he would be.
“You wouldn’t let them,” said Hero licking their lips, making an effort not to make a face at the taste of salt and iron of dried blood dancing along their tastebuds.
Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. “No?”
“No,” Hero echoed then swallowed. “Even if you did let Villain hurt me or torture me, or whatever, you wouldn’t let them kill me. You’d rather draw it out slowly.”
Supervillain raised his hands, elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them as he stared at Hero. His sea green eyes looked stormy now, the twisting murky colour piercing through Hero’s soul. His smile was anything but friendly now.
Now, he looked like Supervillain, like Hero expected him to be. Confident, perspicacious, formidable. This was the opponent Hero had been playing alongside across the city for months now. Hero noticed their heart beating faster in their chest.
“And you say you’re not a fan,” Supervillain said, a perceptible knowing coating every smooth syllable.
“I’m not a fan of you hurting people. Killing people.”
“And yet it’s all you heroes ever seem to respond to.” Hero’s retort died in their throat. “If it takes violence to goad you out of your precious hero tower, then I will resort to violence.”
Goading? What goading? Hero’s brows furrowed down over their eyes, shadowing them slightly as their mind ran over Supervillain’s words.
“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed fondly. “Flynn said you have a look when you’re trying to solve a riddle, this must be it.”
“I don’t have a look,” Hero spat, ignoring the blush that coloured their cheeks.
“Of course you do, dear Hero. We all do. That’s why in poker you have to learn to mask your tells.”
“Are we playing poker, Supervillain?”
“No, hardly. Though I’d wager I could win your money as easy as it took me to tank that developmental property on seventh.”
Hero hope their glare was burning a hole through Supervillain’s skull until they realised they were playing right into his hands and dissolving. Hero licked their lips and leaned forward in their chair too, hands clasped on the table in front of them.
“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? You wanted me to follow Villain. You wanted them to catch me,” Hero said. Them was much easier than saying Flynn out loud.
Supervillain smiled appraisingly. “Yes.”
“And bring me here to meet you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Supervillain’s eyes flashed, something glinting within them. “Because Hero, I’ve wanted to meet you as much as you’ve wanted to meet me.”
Hero held up their cuffed hands. “Couldn’t have done it more civilly?”
“Oh please,” Supervillain scoffed, resting his palms flat on the table and pushing his chair back. Hero’s heartbeat quickened as Supervillain stood up and started making his way slowly, predatorily slowly, towards Hero like a cat playing with a mouse. Hero wanted to not move, to not show him the effect he had on Hero, but their body didn’t get the message. The closer Supervillain came to Hero the more they shrunk back into the chair, hands braced on the table ready to spring to their feet and — and then what?
Supervillain stopped beside Hero’s chair, one hand on the back of it, the other hooking a finger around the small length of chain that kept Hero’s wrists locked together. He pulled it up, Hero’s arms going with it involuntarily until Supervillain held Hero’s arms up high over their head.
Hero grit their teeth as their shoulders strained from their sitting position.
“We both knew one of us would have to be in chains for us to be able to chat,” said Supervillain tilting his head. All friendliness had melted from his face leaving a cold grin and hungry eyes feasting off the sight of Hero at his table. “I just decided it wasn’t going to be me.”
Hero tugged their arms down suddenly but they may as well not have for the lot of good it did them. Supervillain leaned down, his face close to Hero’s as he grinned.
“You should have struck first, little Hero. Then maybe the roles would be reversed, but as of right now—” Supervillain’s eyes darkened. “I control the board.”
*~*~*~*~*
Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill
112 notes · View notes
patchworkorphan · 6 months
Text
The Hero and the Infant: Part Two
Read part one here
*~*~*~*~*
“Villain.”
The hero didn’t shout it. They didn’t need to. Villain would hear them fine even over all the destruction and screaming and emergency services. Hero just stared from the street up at Villain and Villain looked down at Hero. Hero lifted their hand in a wave and then pulled the cigarette from their lips, exhaling a lungful of smoke.
“Hero –” sidekick began but Hero shook their head.
“It’s okay kid. I got it from here,” Hero said still staring at Villain. “So, you gonna invite me up or do I have to climb twelve flights of stairs?”
Villain just stared. Sidekick moved forward, suddenly hesitant in bringing Hero here. Just as they opened their mouth to say it to Hero, Sidekick was wrenched into the sky by an invisible hand and suddenly Hero and the street were below them.
“Fucking shit,” Hero cursed, flicking their cigarette to the ground as they started running to the apartment building to the left of Villain and taking the stairs two at a time.
Villain stared at Sidekick with a probing, scientific kind of curiosity, like they were able to look under Sidekick's skin and unravel all their secrets with enough determination.
“You’re new,” Villain purred. Their voice like liquid silver dancing its way through the sky to Sidekick’s ears sending a shiver down their spine.
“Yeah. I’m Superhero’s sidekick.”
Villain tilted their head to the side and asked, voice deadpan, “do you know the mortality rate of Superhero’s previous sidekicks?”
Sidekick stared Villain in the eye as they said, “I do.”
“And you took the job anyways?”
“I did.”
“Hmm. Not very chatty. You remind me of an old friend of mine.”
“Forgive me, I don't usually chitchat while floating this high in the air."
"Hmm," Villain rumbled, "how about falling?"
For a single terrifying moment, Sidekick felt gravity's effects on them, yanking them back to earth and they gasped, reaching forward and grabbing Villain's leg like their life depended it.
"NO! Nononononononononono, wait! FUCK!" Sidekick cried as their grip on Villain faltered and they slipped. They fell an inch further in the air before they were suspended again, this time with their back to the ground below, staring up at Villain with wide frightened eyes. The only thing keeping them from the hard tarmac below thirteen stories below and being alive.
Villain turned over in the air, rolling onto their stomach and lying like a schoolgirl on their stomach with two hands supporting their head as they grinned down at Sidekick, drinking in their fear.
"You sound just like my favourite hero, Sidekick. I knew letting you fall would loosen your tongue a bit."
Villain was fucking insane, Sidekick realised, their heart still pounding like a rabbits at seeing a hungry dog catch their eye.
"Hero, I’m guessing?" Sidekick said eventually, though their voice still came out higher than it should have.
Villain smiled a fond smile that went to their eyes and lit up their entire face. “Yes. My dear cantankerous hero, so foul-mouthed."
“I met them today," Sidekick said, just trying to keep Villain talking and keep themselves suspended until Hero was able to talk Villain into hopefully letting Sidekick go. Where the fuck were they?
Villain's interest was piqued and they dove slightly towards Sidekick, grabbing Sidekick by the collar of their shirt and sitting on their waist, legs dangling over either side. Somehow, Villain made sure that even flying in the air, Sidekick could still feel the restrictive weight of Villain on top of them.
"And what did you think of them?" Villain asked.
What did Sidekick think of Hero?
"They were... difficult," was the first word that came to mind. Villain grinned and nodded sagely, agreeing with Sidekick as if it was a sacred moment.
“Nothing easy is worth having, Sidekick. Some parting advice.”
“You’re letting me go?”
“Oh yes,” said Villain with a disarming smile. “Quite literally.”
Sidekick didn’t have time to process Villain’s words before Villain shoved Sidekick down below them and wind rushed through their clothes, through their hair, through them as they fell like a comet to earth. This was how they died.
Then their momentum stopped suddenly, and they were swinging into a brick wall, their arm yanked out of its socket and Sidekick cried out in pain. Craning their neck up, they tried glancing up to see Hero above them, leaning half out a broken window, two feet planted on the sill and pulled Sidekick up despite their cries and cursing.
“God, I know. I’m sorry Sidekick. You shouldn’t have been here, god where the fuck is Superhero in all this!” Hero pulled Sidekick in the window and into their chest before stepping back and setting Sidekick down on the window sill.
“Fucking what the fuck?!” Sidekick mewled cradling their arm to their chest.
“I'm sorry, Villain doesn’t usually act like this,” Hero told them.
Sidekick blinked, pain lancing through their shoulder and down into their chest. “What?”
“They don’t usually act this way. First impressions are everything, but I swear there’s good in them.”
Sidekick blinked at Hero, shaking their head. “You’re defending them?!”
“Well, it’s my fault you see. This whole temper tantrum. I haven’t been returning their texts.”
“You haven’t—” Sidekick asked, then blinked and let out an exasperated “what?!”
“Your shoulder—” Hero said. “It’s dislocated.”
“No fucking shit!" Sidekick mewled. "You yanked it out of its socket!”
“Would you rather be a splat on the concrete? Cause I can still push you out the damn window, kid.”
Sidekick walked to the stairwell, fury and pain mixing in their heavy breaths as they braced themselves against the wall. Hero stepped forward a warning on their lips: “kid, I wouldn’t do th—”
It was too late. Sidekick had already thrown themselves against the wall. A resounding pop echoed throughout the stairs, followed by a sharp shriek of pain from Sidekick as they slid down the wall, breathing harshly through gritted teeth.
Hero opened their mouth, but Sidekick just held up a finger from their good arm and wagged it in Hero’s stupid face: “don’t. Say. A thing.”
Sidekick braced themselves against the wall, sliding up it with a groan of pain and rolled their shoulder. Forwards. Backwards. Then they set their furious eyes on Hero and without a word turned and started ascending the stairwell to the roof.
Hero laughed, stunned at the kid’s resilience, and followed them up the stairs. “Do you want some—”
“Just shut the hell up,” Sidekick said, kicking the door to the roof open and looking down pointedly at Hero who was midway through taking a bag of sweets from their pocket. “And go out and do your job.”
“Yes boss,” Hero said with a smile, putting a fizzy lace through their teeth. They emerged onto the roof, arms spread wide and yelled: “Hey! What the fuck are ya doing?” to Villain who was no doubt still floating in the sky, and Sidekick sat down heavy on the steps and took a few deep breaths.
They nearly just died.
Villain almost just killed them.
They would have killed them if not for Hero, and all they wanted to do was cry, but they were too angry.
“Just go out and do your job,” Sidekick chastised themselves, standing and wiping the remnants of tear trails from their cheeks before joining Hero on the roof.
Crying could come later if they lived that long.
*~*~*~*~*
Continued Here
150 notes · View notes
writemeagoodprompt · 2 years
Text
"Will we ever cross paths again?" The villain asked the hero, holding their hand tightly.
"Maybe in another life," the hero replied softly. "but I will continue to choose you no matter what."
59 notes · View notes
Text
enemies to lovers but it’s a villain and a hero walking hand in hand out of the fire and the smoke together, leaving everything behind them
608 notes · View notes
bebx · 2 months
Text
love the classic damsel in distress trope, but the damsel in question is a pathetic fictional man bleeding out in the dark somewhere on the floor before his ridiculously gorgeous knight comes for his rescue just when he’s about to pass out, and the ridiculously gorgeous knight in question is actually a deranged villain who is his archenemy. but they both have these frustratingly unresolved sexual tension going on where they both hate each other but are also super possessive and protective of each other in the sense that no one else can hurt this little guy but me!!!! and so the knight carries his pathetic damsel in his arms bridal style back to his goth castle where they have hot, kinky gay sex ever after (after he nurses his pathetic enemy’s ass back to health, of course, can’t risk bruising our fragile damsel when he’s already half dead).
913 notes · View notes
villainousauthor · 3 months
Text
"Hero -" The Villain protested through gritted teeth, trying not to pass out from the pain. They focus on exhaling through their nose, trying not to focus on how their vision goes black around the edges. "Hero, leave it alone."
Of course, said hero doesn't listen, leaning over their vulnerable form. "I said, tell me where the injuries are. I can't heal them if I don't know." Hero's voice is stubborn but kind. Villain hates how the sound of it wraps around them like a warm blanket.
"I don't want you healing my injuries. Let me crawl home and lick my own wounds." Villain closes their eyes, knowing it to be easier being assertive to Hero when they don't have to see those pleading eyes. Large, pretty, pleading eyes.
"If you don't tell me, I'll have to start removing your clothes to find where you're hurt." Hero warns, and Villain knows they're serious.
"Appealing idea under any other circumstances, but I'll have to decline this time." Villain tries sitting up but is stopped by a warm press to their shoulder.
"I wanna help you... please let me help."
Damn it. Hero makes it so hard for Villain to deny them. They feel their willpower being plucked away by that soft voice with each passing word.
Sigh.
"My upper back, between my shoulder blades." Villain relents, giving them the information they want. Hero moves smoothly, settling behind them quietly as they begin lifting up their shirt.
Villain can hear them sucking in a sharp breath when they see the state of the injury, but they offer no commentary.
"I can heal this." Hero says simply and matter-of-factly.
"I wish you wouldn't." But Hero pays no mind to this comment, pressing a soft hand to Villain's back, just below the injury. Immediately, the pain starts ebbing away, and Villain lets out a loud noise of relief. Their shoulders and the rest of their body immediately sag as the tension eases up.
Hero's healing touch is, without a doubt, one of the best feelings in the world, and every time they get to experience it, Villain can see why so many people covet it, covet Hero. The price, though, is hardly worth it to Villain.
Villain can feel their Hero's head against their shoulder now, as if barely able to keep themselves up.
"Are you okay? This is why you need to stop using your abilities like this." Villain's voice is no longer streaked with pain, but now concern. "I'm worried you're going to nearly kill yourself trying to heal me one of these days."
They just shake their head, hair brushing up against Villain neck.
Hero sounds weary, tired down to their bones. "It's okay, I'll be fine after some rest, I promise. it's worth it when it's you."
718 notes · View notes
Text
(Villain comes to visit Hero in the dungeon.)
"Hey..."
"I want nothing to do with you."
"Hero."
"Go away."
"Just...please. Talk...talk to me."
(A pause, then Hero asks)
"Was any of it real?"
"Don't start."
"Was any of it real?"
(Villain looks up, tearful) "More real than anything."
453 notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 2 months
Note
Its always really great to read your work in my free time. Would you maybe consider a short story involving the hero's sidekick being killed by one villain, so the hero's primary villain goes to their hideout to console them
"Hey." The villain announced their presence as softly as they could, wary of startling the hero.
The hero didn't startle. They didn't even look up, or twitch. They continued to stare at a blank piece of the floor, jaw set, like the flagstones contained all the answers in the universe.
"I - uh - I heard what happened." The villain moved closer, slowly, making sure not to dip out of the hero's periphery vision. "I'm sorry."
The hero was clutching something in one white-knuckled fist - what was it?
"I know my saying that doesn't change what happened," the villain pressed, as the hero continued to say or acknowledge nothing. "But I'm so sorry for your loss. They were a good kid. Brave. How are you..how are you doing?"
It was a scrap of clothing. A bloodied scrap of clothing. The sidekick's uniform.
The villain closed their eyes briefly, releasing a breath. When they opened them, the hero's gaze was locked on them. The villain nearly jumped. The hero's stare was dark, boring into them with a drill-like precision, fierce and hard enough that the hairs on the back of the villain's neck stood on end.
They'd seen that stare before. Just the once.
And what had followed...
They through caution to the wind and crossed the room to the hero's side, kneeling in front of them and taking the hero's jaw firmly in their hands.
They had come expecting tears. Heartbreak. Something they could soothe and console and hold the hero through, perhaps, though the two of them would never speak of it again.
They should have known better.
"I know you want to kill them-"
"-Don't." The hero's voice was raspy, but unforgiving. They let the scrap of clothing fall to the floor, like it was nothing, and not the red flag of a bull fight screaming. "Don't try and stop me."
"You try and stop me. Every time."
"I'm not you."
"No," the villain agreed. Calm against the tempest. They dug their nails a little harder into the hero's skin, grounding. "They actually looked up to you."
"Fuck you."
"I'm not suggesting you don't seek vengeance," the villain said. "I'm merely suggesting you be smart about it. But that's another matter."
The hero bared their teeth, though they hadn't lashed out yet despite the dark look in their eyes, so the villain was definitely taking that as a win.
The villain caressed their cheek; wishing they could find some joy in the corruption of it, in the proof of what so many good people were willing to do in the name of grief and justice.
They couldn't.
Not when the hero looked like that. So hollow. Like if the villain simply scraped out the fury, softened the sizzling hatred a bit, let time heal the hurting, there would be nothing left all.
"Do I need to tell you that it wasn't your fault?" the villain asked.
"I know whose fault it was!"
"Good."
"Are you going to try and stop me?"
"Tonight, yes. Tomorrow...that's on you."
"You didn't even like them."
The villain shrugged. They both knew liking someone wasn't the same as respecting them, and certainly they weren't convinced the sidekick wouldn't come back as a poltergeist if the villain let the hero loose to lay carnage on the very night they died.
No. The villain didn't even like them, but they did like the hero, and they knew what the hero's sidekick would want them to do.
"Is that why you came here?" the hero demanded.
"No. Unhappy coincidence. I came to check on you."
The hero finally wrenched their head free, chair scraping as they surged to their feet. "I don't need checking up on. I'm fine. I'll be fine when I feed that bastard their own windpipe."
There were many things the villain could have said to that, and would have said to that, on any other night. As it was, they watched the hero. Watched the shaking volcano of them, the tremors and ever more devastating fragility of something that might just shatter completely.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," the hero snarled. "And don't you dare say that it's okay for me to be angry."
The villain shut their mouth. About to say just that, and more.
The hero shook their head. They slumped back into their seat, in perfect stillness, as quickly as they'd moved.
"Tomorrow," they said. "Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow. If that's what you truly want. Then I'll help you kill the bastard myself."
The hero reached for the scrap of material again, tucking it close against their chest, head bowed. Their fingers continued to tremble. The villain was not stupid enough to consider it weakness.
Tomorrow.
The villain would pick up the pieces after that.
354 notes · View notes
pendarling · 8 months
Text
Loving Names
Hero was perplexed when Villain stopped calling them by their terms of endearment. Things like “honey,” “love,” or “sweetheart,” had made them melt, but they’d never dare show interest to an enemy like that. They were just curious as to why, that’s all.
It was just a bit strange now that they realized after their last few battles with Villain, all the nicknames had disappeared entirely.
In the time they met Villain they always knew there was just something about them that drew them closer. It wasn’t just the way Villain affectionately talked them up or the small remarks that gave them butterflies but also the hints of deeper feelings they left for them with every banter.
It all tore at their heart, of course they can’t openly say something so embarrassing. A hero’s job was to protect the city and its citizens from villains and this one was no exception.
So Hero never reciprocated the behaviour. They couldn’t let themselves become caught up in the emotional drama Villain was leading them in.
At least they should’ve saw it coming. They should’ve known that after denying Villain from the satisfaction of ever knowing how they felt, that Villain would eventually stop pursuing. They would stop the flirting and the lingering gazes. The gentle but brief touches and the high risk close combat that gave Villain a chance to speak soft poems to them.
It was like a reset button had been pressed and Villain immediately returned to how things initially were when they first met.
For that, Hero felt great regret.
Which is why they were planning on confronting them.
***
They found Villain sitting casually at the scene of another crime. It almost seemed unusually quicker than normal. It would take at least an hour to detect Villain at any of these attacks, but it looked like the universe had something else in mind.
Determination pushed Hero toward their nemesis, the question still boiling deep inside them.
Hero walked behind them as the other idly sat on the roof, their feet dangling at its edge. “Villain,” they spoke.
They rose from their position, and turned to look at them with sly eyes. “Just in time. Shall we continue where we left off?”
Without much hesitation, Hero pulled out their weapon and readied themselves for the dance they’ve grown so familiar with.
Villain closed the gap and swung in their direction; their hand aiming for their gut. They quickly blocked the attack and backed up, a swift kick sent them back and let Hero breathe momentarily.
As the battle continued against Villain, their heart began to race out of anticipation for the promised conversation. It would be awkward at first, but as soon as they could get it out they would play it all off cool.
“What’s got your mind wandering?” Villain shoved Hero to ground as quickly as they tugged the weapon out of their grasp.
At first, they didn’t acknowledge the concern, but figured if anything, now would be the time to ask. Their eyes warily stared at Villain’s mischievous mask, though words began to fail them, “Uh…” it had to be now. They couldn’t let this stress take hold of them any longer.
The criminal stood just a few feet from them with a curious glint. They were certain they knew exactly what Hero was going to ask.
“I noticed…” Their voice was a lot shakier as they stood, “That you stopped with all the… names.” Their gaze stayed glued to the ground as their face grew hotter.
Villain hummed with an expression that lightened up instantly. “Oh, what do you mean?”
So they were going to play stupid. Was this some kind of punishment for not giving the reciprocation they were looking for?
They should’ve known and yet…
“You know…” They wiped their sweating hands onto their suit. “You always had a way with words.”
“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, Hero.”
They pouted slightly at the responses, “How do you not know? You’ve always called me… other things…” They trailed off. Just how long was Villain intending to keep them in this agonizing situation?
A laughter echoed which sent their head spiralling. Villain moved closer, their steps were quiet enough to match any predator. “I’m starting to think there’s something you want from me. I wonder what it is?~”
Hero tightened their lips. Maybe they should’ve kept their mouth shut after all. “I’m only asking a question.”
Villain circled them, still putting on their clueless face, “I can’t answer a question if you won’t make it clearer for me.” They shrugged. The enemy was no where in sight, though they could sense Villain stalking behind them.
A ghostly touch climbed up their spine. With their shoulders tense, Hero spun around to face Villain who was only inches from them. “W-what!?” They stammered.
“You always keep me waiting, Hero. Always guessing your motives.” From their expression Hero caught something change, “A never ending cycle of not knowing…”
They sighed, their heart still hammering in their chest, “Did I do something to upset you? To make you stop… with the terms of endearment?”
Lips curled slowly upwards at their questions. “Oh. So you did like them after all.” They chuckled warmly. “Did you enjoy having cute pet names?”
Hero took several steps back, “What? No!”
“Alright. Then I guess there shouldn’t be a problem then if I stop—”
“No, don’t!” It came out unexpectedly from them. It was enough to make Villain’s eyes go wide, and the air to grow thicker.
Their thoughts tugged at them again, they didn’t want Villain to just stop but they also hated to admit they loved it.
“So you don’t want me to stop? Why?” They chuckled.
Damn it. Villain knew exactly what they were doing.
Their mind fumbled to grab the words they needed to play it all naturally.
“Why? Because uhm…”
“C’mon. I know you can say it for me~”
They nervously tapped their foot to the ground, “Fine…” They said through clenched teeth, “I liked it.”
“You mean you loved it, right?”
They nodded.
Their nemesis’ laughter didn’t stop though, it only increased from there. Villain always went overboard with their teasing. “You loved what?” They leaned in closer.
Their hands tightened into a fist this time, eyes shut as their head hung low. It felt so shameful and exhausting to keep this up. “I loved it when… you call me… your love.”
“Aww… so you aren’t as heartless as it seems” Villain lifted Hero’s chin and brushed the hair from their face, “That’s all I needed to hear from you, my little dove.”
Oh, and there it was again. That satisfying tingle against their skin. That rush of dopamine and excitement.
Villain sensed their change in mood and smiled confidently, “You really take advantage of these pet names, don’t you?”
“Only from you.” Their head tilted into Villain’s palm.
~~~
MASTERLIST
907 notes · View notes
the-broken-pen · 7 months
Text
The hero was getting blood all over the villains nice jacket.
“I’m sorry about the blood—“ they murmured, and the villain hushed them.
“We’re almost there. Just—just stay still, okay?”
If the hero didn’t know better, they’d say the villain almost sounded afraid.
“It’s okay. M’fine.”
The villain breathed a harsh laugh, cradling the hero to their chest as they walked.
“Yes, you certainly look fine bleeding everywhere.”
There was that tone again. The hero frowned. The villain had never used that tone, especially not with them, and they had no idea what it was—
They barged into the villains apartment, as the hero realized the villain was concerned.
Oh.
The villain set them down on a couch, gently, but the hero still flinched. The villain apologized, soft and gentle, and ran their hand over the wound, assessing the damage.
The villains face went carefully blank.
The hero’s head spun, just a little, and they closed their eyes to fight it off. A moment later, they opened them to find the villain wrapping their side.
Their eyebrows crinkled.
“You—when did you get those?” Their voice cracked.
The villain looked up at them.
“Just a minute ago. You passed out,” they said calmly.
Their fingers continued deftly wrapping the bandage on the hero’s side.
“Wait. Why are you,” the hero grit their teeth as the villain brushed against the wound. “Why are you helping me.”
The villain laughed.
“For someone so observant, you miss a lot of things.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The villain shook their head.
“I knew you were a bit obtuse, but darling, really. Work with me.”
They tied off the bandages, helping the hero sit up against the arm of the couch. The villain held their gaze, cool and collected and concerned, all at once.
“Your powers stem from emotions, yes?”
The hero nodded, once.
“So positive emotions make you stronger. They can heal you, right?”
The hero had tried to keep that bit of information under wraps. Not only could they heal themselves if they were happy, they could heal anyone. They didn’t want to end up some tool to be used in some military stronghold. Still, they healed civilians when no one was looking.
If they were mad, though? They could destroy anything, tear concrete in half, send metal into dust.
The hero cleared their throat. “Yes. Positive emotions can heal me. Not feeling super happy right now, so I’ll get back to you on that—“
The villain sat back on their heels.
“Do you trust me?”
The hero blinked at them. They were ready to give them some bullshit answer about how they could never trust the villain and never would; but that wasn’t true. The villain had saved them, more times than they could count.
And between the agency and the villain? Well, the hero knew who they would choose.
“Yes,” they said hesitantly, and the villain kissed them.
Warmth flooded them, and they reached for the villain, tugging them closer, and the villain smiled against their mouth.
The wound on their side began to close, and the villain felt it. They smiled, pleased with themself, like a cat.
“I give you positive emotions, huh,” they said, still grinning.
“For someone so observant, you can be so obtuse—“ the villain kissed them, again, to get them to shut up. This time, the hero smiled.
The wound closed further.
“I didn’t know you liked me,” the hero murmured.”
“I tolerate you. I just happen to hate everyone else.”
The hero laughed, side twinging with pain.
The villain checked the half closed wound, then turned back to the hero.
“Kiss it better?”
The villain rolled their eyes.
This time, when the villain kissed them, the hero didn’t let them stop.
648 notes · View notes
writingpromptsworld · 4 months
Text
Prompt #60
(Drunk hero👀)
“So…then, I told the superhero that I can’t not go. Because…” The hero slurred, trailing off as their eyes felt drowsy. Their hand was slowly falling down from the villain’s couch they were splayed out on, their legs dangling on the edge.
The villain hummed, nodding their head as if they were listening intently as they filled up an injection with a yellow looking drug. The hero groaned. “Because what?” They prompted, as they knelt down beside the hero, the cotton swab in their right hand, softly rubbing the skin on the hero’s arm. The hero’s eyes lazily drifted to the villain’s, the gentle smile the villain offered in the moment was cruel considering what they were doing. But, the hero smiled back, they could barely make out the villain’s face, let alone the syringe in their hands.
“Because…you were going to be there.” The hero finished, their eyes closed. A knowing tone and the widening smile gave away what they were feeling. The villain’s movement on the hero’s arm halted. Their eyes turned to the hero’s face, but the hero was already in deep slumber.
The villain contemplated on what to do. They couldn’t move after what the hero said. How could they just say that?! Surely, it was only because the hero was drunk. They didn’t feel that way about the villain right? The villain’s heartbeat increased, and they took a deep breath to calm themself. They lowered the syringe and put it away on the table placed by their side.
They stood up, and grabbed a blanket to cover the hero. They couldn’t do this, not today. Little did they know, that when they are slept away in their room in the morning, the hero wakes up and sees the syringe. Full. A small cotton ball thrown to the side.
Confusion, but most of all, a kind of fury settles in at the thought that they could ever have trusted the villain. They grab their weapon and walk to the closed room, in which inside the villain is tucked away, unbeknownst to the hero's growing rage.
95 notes · View notes
chaotic-orphan · 1 year
Text
Exhausted Hero
*~*~*~*~*
“Wait…”
It wasn’t the word that caused the Villain pause. It was the desperation behind it. The rain was hammering down against the fire escape outside, Villain’s hand still holding the window up. A small hand was clutching the fabric of their hoodie and Villain was left frozen like this.
They turned their head over their shoulder to see Hero. Head bowed, eyes drawn, focused on their hand in Villain’s jumper as if they didn’t quite expect it themselves.
“Yes Hero?” Villain asked, voice gentle.
Hero licked their dry lips, eyes lifting to Villain’s, looking at them through their fringe. It cast the shadows in Hero’s sockets, exposing every line, every bag under them. And they were wet with unshed tears that seemed too much for Hero to shed. Like if they did they would crumble to dust.
“Please… stay. I— I haven’t slept…” Hero whispered, voice barely audible, and loud at the same time. Loud in telling Villain how desperate they must have been to ask Villain for help. To stay? To help them? To show this vulnerability. This weakness.
It told Villain everything they needed to know.
Villain shut the window. It was the best night’s sleep Hero’s had in weeks.
268 notes · View notes
patchworkorphan · 5 months
Text
Heroic Betrayal: part one
Hero followed the villain through the winding trees, arms braced in front of them at the oncoming bushes and branches they had to wade through before they got to a clearing.
Hero stopped, breath hitting off cold air, surrounding them in smoke. They listened for any sound but heard nothing.
Then – there.
A sudden movement.
Hero bolted after Villain again, hot on their heels as they sprinted after them. Villain was so close. Hero had to push a little faster. Hero reached out to grab Villain when someone knocked into them from the side. The trees extended above Hero, the world seeming to stretch as they fell.
Hero’s head hit off the frozen ground hard, rattling their brain, the world growing hazy for a moment. Hero’s assailant landed on top of Hero and while Hero was momentarily stunned, they sat up, knees straddling Hero’s hips effectively pinning them. Hero swung a closed fist up, but their wrist was caught, and their attacker pinned the other to the ground as well.
“Well, well, well. As I live and breathe, Hero. It’s been a long time.”
Hero would recognise that stupid drawl anywhere.
“Flynn?” Hero asked, their brain trying to catch up with their mouth. “What are you doing here? Get off me! Villain’s getting away.”
“I know,” Flynn said with an easy smile. “I’m meant to distract you.”
Hero’s blood ran cold. “What?”
Flynn tilted his head down at Hero.
“I didn’t hit you that hard, did I? If I want you to not remember something I won’t beat the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he said, leaning down to get closer to Hero, whispering, “I’ll take it.”
Hero threw all their weight into their hips, as they shifted, rolling Flynn off them so they were on top.
“As you like it, sweetheart,” Flynn chuckled. Hero threw a fist out and this time it landed.
“You’re a traitor?” Hero breathed when Flynn smiled up at them. “You’re one of them?! That’s why supervillain knows every move before we make it…”
Flynn put his two hands behind his head, grinning up at Hero with a charming smile. “I always did love when the mystery was solved in the end. Especially by you, that look on your face.”
“We were friends!” Hero snarled, fists grabbing the collar of Flynn’s shirt to make him listen. This wasn’t some game or joke they could just disregard. How could they be so calm? This couldn’t be happening. Everyone loved Flynn, everyone. He was always so nice.  
“We are friends, dear Hero.”
“Not if you do this. Not if you’re one of them. Sidekick got hurt because of you!”
“And they’ll heal, won’t they? I warned them not to be put their nose in other people’s business.”
Hero sagged a bit. Their grip loosening.
“Are you going to take my memory?” Hero whispered quietly.
Flynn’s gaze softened and he put a gentle hand on Hero’s wrist. “No. I would never use my powers on you. It would take away all the fun.”
Hero’s eyes widened in surprise.
“But… but I know now. I’ll tell Superhero— do you want to be found out?”
Flynn’s smile turned secretive, like he knew something Hero didn’t. “No, you won’t.”
Hero stared at him; mouth open in silent confusion. Which all ended when they felt cold metal press against the back of their skull. Flynn beamed at someone behind Hero, then fixed his smug gaze on Hero’s eyes.
“You won’t because you’re coming with us.”
*~*~*~*~*
Continued here
113 notes · View notes
the-cypress-grove · 15 days
Text
Prompt: 218
"This is not how I raised you."
"No, you raised me to be weak. You raised me to be your puppet and do your bidding."
"It was necessary."
"And it will be the end of you."
216 notes · View notes
justaz · 9 days
Text
semi-dark king merlin au, someone from ealdor tells king cenred about merlin and he is captured and held as a slave in essetir. since merlin despises captivity and servitude, he’d rather be dead and free than alive and in chains so he acts out and pisses people (especially the king) off so they’ll think him too much trouble and kill him. at first they stick to beatings until merlin manages to get his chains around a few necks and now has a body count so they kill him…..only he wakes back up a few hours later and king cenred is Intrigued and keeps him close. merlin keeps acting out but no matter how many times they kill him, he won’t stay dead. merlin has this moment after waking up perfectly fine after his twenty seventh death where he is hopeless and believes there to be no escape, not even thru death. a few other sorcerers in chains come and help him clean up and give him a lil peptalk, realizing him to be emrys, and then they revolt and take over the kingdom and crown merlin as king and now uther is like “wtf” bc his neighboring kingdom who was kinda sorta on his wavelength about sorcery, though uther did not approve of keeping them alive, is now a kingdom ruled by magic. he goes to war with them but with magic running free and fucking emrys on the throne, they don’t make a lot of headway. anyways merthur meet on the battlefield, enemies to lovers, you get it
233 notes · View notes