They/them. Writer wtih ADHD so welcome to the chaos. Open to requests but also never done them before so be gentle. Side blog is @sociallyanxiouscryptid-reblogs
If you enjoy my work and have an idea of something you would like to see me write, I am open to requests and prompts.
Their Favourite Hobby
Part 2
Part 3
Hero x Villain. Hero is Villains favourite hobby, and they are always making opportunities to spend more time with them. Hero isn’t complaining, until Villain starts getting a little too close.
Pain my Old Friend Part 1
A whump piece that I have been working on. Whumper has been hired to get information out of Whumpee, but Whumpee won't go down without a fight.
Part 2
Destined
Hero has a secret eating him alive, a timer over his head, the weight of the world on his shoulders and no one to help him bear it. Except maybe Villain?
Sacrifice Part 1
Part 2
Hero has sacrificed everything for his city, and he will sacrifice more, whether he wants to or not.
A Long Night
Hero has had a long night, and all he wanted to do was go home, get some sleep and hopefully not bleed out from the gaping wound in his side. But life had other plans. A bit of whump, a bit of angst, you know the fun stuff.
Anger Management
Part 2
Villain has dreamt of the day he could have his revenge for years, and finally its here, finally he can do what every villain has only dreamed of. So why is Supervillain standing in his way?
A Hunter, an Angel and a Demon walk into a Dungeon
Protagonist has been captured by a hunter, a demon and an angel, an odd group to say the least.
Late
Character A is regularly late to things, but they always at least text Characters B and C when it happens. This time they didn’t and B and C are a little worried.
Burn
Villain hasn’t heard from Hero in weeks and recently they hadn’t heard from any hero. Not only is this strange, it is concerning, but when Villain does find Hero they are pleasantly surprised.
Found
Part 2
Part 3
Civilian doesn’t like trouble, but they also don’t like dead bodies, and the body they just found is very close to being dead.
Thief’s Mistake
Thief messed up, and they continue doing so, but at least they have a good sense of humour.
Assassination Attempt
It’s just a regular job. In and out, should be easy, but something here is very wrong.
Robbery
Part 2
Villain has been robbed, a task that should have been impossible, but worst of all they have no idea who, how, or even what was taken.
Old Friend
Summery: Hero finds a villain safe house and didn’t expect to find anything there. But they did, and they may regret it.
Detectives and Demons
Detective and Partner need to investigate an attempted demon summoning, but their usual informant is out on other business. However, Informant recommends them an expert.
Tit for Tat
Supervillain has been captured by the heroes with the help of Villain, but things are not what the seem.
All eyes on me
Supervillain thought they could rule the world forever, they were wrong
Hi! I love your writing style and I'd love to see your take on the villain's backstory as they tell the tale of their parent getting murdered by the king for having or using magic when it's banned. Have a lovely day :)
"Are you traumatised, little princeling?" the villain asked.
The teasing nickname felt more like a nightmare now; the memories awash with betrayal and gore.
They villain settled themselves down on the throne; all elegant menace and crackling power. The crown that formed on their head was a thing of magic, shimmering and uncanny, swallowing light. It matched the pitiless hollows of the villain's eyes.
The prince's jaw clenched, his breathing hard and ragged. Bile clawed up his throat. He pushed himself shakily up off the ground, onto his knees. He was surprised he got that far. His whole body trembled.
But everyone else...
"What are you waiting for?" he demanded. "You got what you wanted. Kill me too."
The villain smiled, faintly, and considered him. There wasn't so much as a speck of blood on them but the polished throne room floor and the prince's hands were slick with it.
"You didn't answer my question, little princeling."
The prince bared his teeth, but couldn't quite master diplomacy in that moment. It was all he could do not to scream, or cry. "Who wouldn't be? You - you-" He couldn't quite articulate the horror of it. He closed his eyes but the memories flashed through his mind all the same.
His body moving through the throne room on someone else's command. A puppet of a prince. A slaughterer.
The magic had felt so good while it ensnared him, even as it was saturated by the nauseous inability to stop, the terror, the merciless guilt.
"You're a monster," the prince rasped.
His hands curled into fists. In an instant he was on his feet after all, body broken, sword in hand as he charged towards the villain.
He got as far as getting the tip of his blade to the villain's throat, and then his body locked. He could not kill nor retreat, nor do much of anything at all. Frozen.
The villain blinked at him, lazily almost, as they tipped their head back like the sword was actually a threat. No. Not lazy. It affected laziness, but it was...
"I was traumatized," the villain said, in the same light and mocking tone of voice as before, "when your father killed mine."
Their eyes met.
The prince willed his hand to move, to cut, to kill.
He didn't. He couldn't.
"And that excuses all of this?" the prince managed. "I am not my father. I am not - I wasn't even alive - I would have -".
The villain could have waited, could have let an old man die with some dignity, could have taken a higher ground, and the world would have changed. The change didn't have to be taken in blood and pain.
The prince didn't even agree with the magic laws. Ever since he'd met the monster in front of him, he'd...
He'd heard bits of the story before. Not the king, but some random attackers in some village, and how the villain had escaped only because the attackers had thought them a child dead already. How the magic had saved them.
The prince had thought of phoenixes, then. He should have thought of the ashes.
The villain flicked a dismissive hand and the magic curling around the prince yanked his arms back behind his back, roughly, forcing him to let go of the blade. It hit the ground with a clatter.
The prince landed on his knees, a stifled cry of pain on his lips, tears stinging in his eyes. Not for the hurt of it, not for that small bit of control, but all the rest.
The villain settled a clean hand atop the prince's disheveled head, like a cruel and gentle benediction.
"Of course," the villain said, as if the prince hadn't spoken, "he didn't do it personally. A man like your father never bloodied his own hands when he could use someone else's. It was his guards. He..." The villain wet his lips, "watched though. I think it made him feel strong, killing magic users. A man-god, clinging to his false power, when he'd never even tasted what real magic felt like. Real power."
The villain's gaze flicked almost idly around the room, around all the royal guard - the prince's friends and mentors and protectors - who the prince's puppet body had killed.
The prince swallowed. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't.
The magic, that taste of real magic, still swirled around him. Oppressive and heady and awful and enticing. Dangerous.
The villain's attention fixed on him again. They caressed the prince's cheek as the prince shuddered.
"So, you understand, that if this was personal, it was only personal in the way that it was personal to your father," the villain said softly. "You were born to this and it was always going to be your fate."
"Then kill me for what I was born for. Be just like he was!"
"I did think you were just like him when we first met." The villain's hand moved down further still, wrapping almost curiously around the prince's throat. "But you've proven quite interesting. Not enough to change anything, but..." the villain shrugged.
The prince flinched, recoiled. "I wish I'd been more like him. Then I would have killed you before you ever did this. Before you even got the chance!"
The villain laughed. The sound didn't reach those eyes. The prince had seen the sadness in them, the loss, and he'd thought...well, it all felt stupid what he'd thought, with all the devastation behind them, with that terrible crown twinkling abyssal night atop of the villain's head.
The prince had been told since the moment he was born that magic was dangerous, that magic users were too dangerous to live. He'd thought there was a middle ground. He'd thought that it couldn't be all of them.
Maybe it wasn't all of them. But maybe it only took one. Maybe that was what his father had known when he'd ordered the deaths of two palace gardeners and their five year old.
The hate tasted like rot and hellfire in his mouth, but it felt better than the grief. The howling pit of what he'd done. Of what the villain had made him do.
"I should have killed you." The tears came then; wracking, poisonous things that he didn't want the villain to see and enjoy, but which he couldn't quite stop. "I should have killed you before you killed all of them."
"You know, my little princeling." The villain pressed the prince's head against their lap; a gross caricature of comfort, and bowed their head down too to whisper. "I remember thinking exactly the same thing. Look how far we've both come."
The Shame-Faced Boulder Crab (Calappa pseudopetra) is a large species of rock-mimicking crustacean.
Found in beaches and cliffs, they use their inconspicuous appearance to blend in and patiently wait for prey to approach them. When the moment is right, they strike for the kill.
Due to their heavy exoskeleton, adult C. pseudopetra rarely move during their lifetimes. To avoid expending energy, they will let themselves be pushed by the tide to slowly move. They will only voluntarily leave their hiding spot once, as their final effort, to find a mate.
Can we not assume this sort of thing about real artists, please?
It's honestly discouraging as hell. It would take people 3 seconds to click on my profile and see that I do all my work with Photoshop. Even with direct links to the twitch channel where I made these pieces live if they don't believe my word.
This is one of the worst consequences of the AI environment we live in. People take your work that you've spent so much time creating and thinking about and just reduce it to something trivial.
CW: Suicide attempt, bruises and signs of torture, saved from a suicide attempt
(Let me know if I need to add anymore content warnings and tags)
Villain finds someone they didn't expect standing on the edge of a bridge
~
Villain rolled the car to a stop as they approached the bridge. It was a small bridge, in a very remote and dense area, the kind of place a villain would choose to be away from people, to ensure secrecy and privacy. And yet here someone stood, kilometres away from the city, alone, staring down at the rushing water below.
Villain looked to their passenger.
“Stay here,” they said, “just in case it’s a trap.”
Passenger nodded, and they both returned to looking at the figure.
If the figure had noticed Villain’s car they showed no sign of it, not even when Villain opened the door and stepped out. Out here silence wasn’t really a thing, the white noise of the torrent, harmonised by the gentle swaying of the trees surrounding them. In any other situation it would be relaxing, here it was heavy, stifling.
Villain approached carefully, steps crunching under the loose tarmac as they spent the time selecting right words to say as they got closer and closer. From this distance they could not see the figure’s face, a hood over their head obscuring most of it. But the figure was small, thin, in a way that could concern Villain. Although at least it meant they would be easy to grab. Light, weak.
Their hand was swollen, Villain could notice, broken for sure, one of the fingers bent a little awkwardly. The sleeves covering their arms were dirty, so was the rest of their clothes, like they had slept in them for a long while, laid on the ground in the dirt and what could be blood. In conclusion, wherever this person came from, it was not a good place.
Villain made it a couple of metres away before stopping, the figure shifting their weight though whether it was because of Villain or not they couldn’t tell. Up until this point they still had not acknowledged them, still just stared down.
“That’s a long way to fall,” Villain said.
The figure’s body stiffened, a tremble running through them before falling completely still. Their shoulders slumped, and Villain recognised complete and utter defeat.
“Do you think it would be enough for me?” Sidekick said.
Villain tried and failed to hide their shock. They took a step closer to the side, tilting their head to see around the hood. But even then, it took Villain a second to recognise Sidekick’s face, the bruising and swelling, the hollowness in their eyes. It took everything within Villain to steel themself, to reign in the shock, to hold back the sliver of amusement, the droplet of rage.
“I see you met Supervillain,” Villain said.
The mere mention of the name seized Sidekick.
“Yes,” they said, barely a whisper. A tear ran down their face. “I told them everything,” they said. “Two weeks and I told them everything and now Hero is…”
They couldn’t finish that sentence, that thought. A sob wracked them, bringing it with devastating pain. They held their ribs, tried sucking in a breath and choked on it.
“Two weeks,” Villain said. “That’s impressive.”
Sidekick managed to steal a breath, felt no relief in it.
“It’s all destroyed,” Sidekick said. “Everything. They took everything. They’ve won.”
Words danced on the tip of Villains tongue, but they held them in. Sidekick’s agency was one of many that existed in this modern world, one that had slowly been creeping up Supervillain’s list. A devastating hit, taking out their agency would be, but a final victory it was not.
“So that’s why you’re here?” Villain asked. “Standing on the side a bridge ready to end it all?”
Sidekick watched the water rush, imagined it whisking them away, the current caressing their wounds, taking their pain.
“Do you think it will work?” They asked.
Villain took a step towards the edge, looked down, stepped back.
“I’ve seen you survive worse.”
Sidekick’s bottom lip quivered.
“Would it be stupid to try anyway?”
“It will hurt,” Villain said.
But the words fell on deaf ears, Sidekick’s eyes glazing over.
Villain lunged as they stepped forward, predictably wrenching back their light weight like a half empty sack of potatoes. Sidekick tumbled over the railing, Villain ready to tackle them further but before the thought could complete Sidekick’s legs gave out.
Villain had heard many sounds of despair before. Heard the wails of grief, of anger, of betrayal, and yet they had never heard something quite as painful as this. Sidekick had, had so much passion in them, so much drive to do good, and here it was, broken.
Sidekick screamed and cried, curling over their knees as they hugged themself. Pure and raw emotion pouring out of them, echoing into the trees and disappearing into the void of the earth. Villain simply watched and waited. They had questions of course, namely how does something like this happen without their knowing? And then there was the part of them taking in the bruises, the torture and pain, and they took it personally. Supervillain knew who Sidekick was, knew how Villain felt about it and still, here they were.
When Sidekick’s breathing began to even out, and the tears dried up, Villain stepped forward and crouched in front of them.
“A hero’s life is a hard one, you put so much on the line, have so many eyes on you,” Villain said, “that’s why we tried to convince you against it, to avoid this.”
Sidekick raised their head, a new emotion in their eyes.
“This wasn’t because of being a hero, this was because of your people.”
“Oh sweetie, not my people,” Villain softly, “I wouldn’t have left you alive, I’m not that cruel.”
Sidekick’s knuckles whitened.
“But you’ve always been bull-headed,” Villain continued, “and you will always look down on me.”
Villain stood, turning slightly to face the car and gesturing for Passenger.
“But that’s ok, unlike you I accepted the state of the world a long time ago.”
Sidekick looked to Passenger as they approached, did their best to sit up.
“What are you doing?” Sidekick asked, trying to stand.
“Pain in my ass or not, I’m not exactly going to let my sibling suffer like this, you’re coming back with me.”
“No,” they said but barely made it to their knees before sucking in a sharp breath.
“You don’t really have a choice,” Villain said, stepping to their side, grabbing Sidekick’s arm and gently helping them stand.
“No,” Sidekick tried to pull from Villain’s grip, only to bump into Passenger, who grabbed their other arm.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything. I’ve always wanted an excuse to kill Supervillain. No time like the present to get my name out there.”
Passenger attached a cuff to one of Sidekick’s wrists and a sudden burst of panic surged through them.
Sidekick punched Passenger with their good hand, smacking right into their nose. Blood gushed, Passenger recoiled, and Sidekick spun. Villain grabbed the second hit, but Sidekick need them, following through with a head but that ended up against Villain’s mouth, busting the lip.
Sidekick stumbled a few metres away, wheezing.
Villain laughed. “You may be a hero, but you fight like a villain,” they said, grinning with bloodied teeth.
Everyone stood still for a second, a beat of tension before Sidekick took off, the other two in hot pursuit.
They didn’t make it far, something hitting their legs, sending them tumbling, head bouncing off the hard ground. What little air they had was knocked out of them, and white stars danced in their vision. They could barely feel the hands on them as they arms were cuffed behind their back.
“Really Sidekick, do you always have to make things so difficult?” Villain’s voice appeared. “If you go back out there, you will die, either by your own hand or some opportunistic villain, and I don’t want to have the reputation of having a failed hero sibling. This is for your own good.”
Sidekick was breathless, unable to drag a single coherent thought to another. And yet, Sidekick found themself staring up at Villain, their face filling their vision.
“No,” it was pathetic and small, but still slipped through their lips.
“You really think after all this time, I would hurt you?”
“Yes.”
Villain smirked at that.
“Well then you better behave.”
Sidekick felt themself lifted into the air, the last of their fight leaving them.
Supervillain thought they could rule the world forever, they were wrong
CW: needles, medical procedure, restraints
Supervillain opened their eyes. It was funny because they don’t really remember closing them. Their vision blurred in front of them, sending their head into a dangerous spin. The nausea felt far away, so did the rest of them, their fingers a faint tingle in the vacuum. But slowly it was coming back to them, the cool air against their skin, the ache in their neck, even the sour taste in their mouth.
Then the tightness around their wrists
Rope was a familiar sensation against their skin, however usually it’s the other way around. The rope in their hands, around someone else’s wrists. They were tight, well done. Supervillain couldn’t move, not even a little. It made their hands tingle, but not enough to cut off circulation entirely, just enough to be deeply uncomfortable.
The room kept spinning as Supervillain tried looking up, the lights too bright, colours too muted. A light shifted, their eyes springing with tears that they tried to blink through. Someone shifted, a body near them, their heat startling against the cold.
“Maybe I gave you too much,” a voice muttered. The light shifted further, got closer. Supervillain recoiled.
“Wh-” their tongue was cotton, thick and tangled. They flinched, head lolling to the side, but a hand caught their skin.
“You don’t recognise me, do you?”
Supervillain still couldn’t see let alone recognise an asshole with a torch. They tried saying as much but all that tumbled out were half baked consonants.
The light vanished and so did the body, a whisp of a sigh falling from Supervillain’s lips. They weren’t sure where the fucker went but they took the time to breath, sucking in slow and measured breaths that filled their body.
Water poured over them, icy and biting and the slow measured breath turned into a gasp, followed by splashes of liquid that caught in Supervillain’s throat. They coughed, the thing shaking through their whole body as it quickly turned into a fit.
The hand came back, another rubbing their shoulder as the fit eased. Supervillain coughed up the last of the water, blinking into clearer vision.
A person stepped in front of them, smiling.
“Is that better?” They said. “Head a little clearer?”
“Le-”
“Ah,” they said, hand snaking out, pressing against Supervillain’s mouth. “I want you to recognise me first. I want you to remember.”
Supervillain stared into their face, their eyes. Nothing. Just another person for them to use, another person for them to control like everyone else. Something in the back of their mind shifted. Their eyes were pretty they guess, had they dated them? Rejected them? Were they about to be bested by a miffed ex?
You’re cute.
The memory came back all at once.
Too bad you’re in my way.
Supervillain’s eyes widened, but not nearly as much as Villain’s grin.
“Surprise.”
Villain stepped back, removing their hand but Supervillain was too shocked to speak.
“Wow,” Villain breathed. “You really thought you’d never see me again. That you could just lock me up and throw away the key.”
Supervillain truly had. Why wouldn’t they? It had never happened before, was supposed to never happen at all. Villain was barely recognisable now, worn, their body tired but eyes glistening with a mad delight.
“How?” It was the only think Supervillain could think, the only thing that mattered.
Villain delighted in the question, picking at the long sleeve of their shirt before beginning to roll it up.
“It took a lot of time,” they said, the scars on their arm slowly revealing. “A lot of experimentations and even more mistakes.” They rolled the sleeve up above their elbow, began on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to experiment on yourself? To cut into your own bone marrow?”
“Impossible,” Supervillain said.
“It should be, yes,” Villain nodded finishing the other sleeve. “But when you have time and immortality on your side you can get very creative.”
Supervillain just stared.
“Its understandable, why you were so cocky. Why you thought you could win,” Villain said, now pacing around Supervillain. “You have this power at your fingertips, one so strong and seemingly so reliable. You had no reason to think it would fail. No one can fault you on that.”
Villain stood somewhere behind Supervillain and it made the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end. A shiver ran through them and suddenly a true sense of danger sunk into their gut.
“Let me go,” Supervillain demanded, strong and powerful.
Nothing. Supervillain’s ears rung as they waited, skin itched ready for the ropes to come undone.
Villain laughed, a mad and joyous thing.
“I wasn’t entirely certain it would work,” they beamed, walking back to the front. “Sure, I could break your old demand, but would my alterations hold up to new ones? Could I disobey you?” Villain grinned ear to ear like a giddy child. “Oh I have waited so, so long for this day, to see that look in your eyes. Does it make you feel helpless? Feel weak?”
“Let me go,” Supervillain said again, firmer, pushing more intent into their words. Nothing.
Villain cackled.
“How did you enjoy the spotlight hey? The title world’s most dangerous villain?”
“Let me go.” Supervillain yelled, chest tightening.
Villain was on them, hands pressed against their wrist, face millimetres away.
“Oh but sweetie I am having so much fun. You had the arrogance to think you could take my spotlight, but now it’s my turn, and I am hungry for that light on my face.”
“This is impossible.”
“It was inevitable,” Villain stepped back. They wondered across the room, somewhere behind Supervillain.
“Even if I can’t control you,” Supervillain said, “I still control everyone else. You won’t be able to move in this world without me knowing about it.”
Villain hummed, “oh you will know about every move I make, right up to your last breath.”
Supervillain tugged against their restraints.
Villain came back around with a needle in their hand, and without a word they grabbed Supervillain’s bicep, steadying the arm as they slipped it into the vein, precise and practiced.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m solving the problem you presented,” Villain said.
Villain carefully drew the blood, Supervillain watched it spill into the vial, head getting light. Villain filled four vials before removing the needle, not gentle in the slightest.
Supervillain arched themself, straining their neck as much as possible to see where Villain went, and as they did, they caught a glimpse of the entire room behind them. They were in a laboratory, Supervillain positioned over near a wall, everything around them pushed back.
Villain came back, still behind them though, something else in their hand.
“What is this?” Supervillain said.
Villain looked back around the room.
“Don’t you recognise it?”
Supervillain didn’t.
“This is the hole you tried to bury me in.”
Some sharp went into Supervillain’s back and the pain was blinding.
“Hold still,” Villain said, “I don’t want to damage anything.”
Supervillain did, only because every move brought more agony. Their nails dug into the chair, teeth about to shatter as they felt something move about, before being withdrawn. Supervillain gasped, choked on their spit.
“You’re doing so good,” Villain purred.
“They will come find me,” Supervillain growled. “And when they do, I will cut you up into tiny pieces and-”
Villain snatched their hair and wrenched their head back.
“No one is coming. No one cares about you,” Villain hissed. “That’s the thing about your power, no one is loyal to you, and because of your arrogance you had no safety measures in places. No one will come for you because they are all too busy carrying out your demands and will continue to do so until you issue new ones.”
Supervillain stared, the words sitting heavy on their chest, sinking deep into their stomach. There had to at least be someone, right? They hadn’t controlled everyone…
They had, they truly had. Everyone who worked under them, every enemy who encountered them, they were all under Supervillain’s control. Supervillain never gave anyone the chance to come in willingly, they didn’t need to. It was why they were the world’s most feared villain.
“You have come so far, and yet you’re still so ignorant, a baby in this world.” Villain tapped Supervillain’s cheek, letting go of their hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what a real villain is.”
They came back around the front.
“I will remind the whole world what a real villain is,” Villain grinned.
Supervillain has been captured by the heroes with the help of Villain, but things are not what the seem.
CW: Manipulation, threats, vomiting, pushing oneself too far and to injury, violence, gun
~
Supervillain had wondered how they would eventually get captured. They knew it was a possibility, in their line of work it’s always a possibility and while they had done everything they could to ensure it wouldn’t happen, it did. They had thought maybe it would be after a long and exhausting fight with Superhero, maybe an ambush or something big and dramatic like that.
They never thought it would be as quiet and quick as it was. A person Supervillain had never seen before appeared in their office, leaning on a cane, dressed in a tailcoat.
One touch from them and Supervillain was transported into the very cell they were sat in, surrounded by cement walls and a single glass door. It was impressive to be honest, to be trapped so quickly and effortlessly. Supervillain wasn’t even that mad. They learnt the person was Villain, not that, that meant much to Supervillain. They had never heard the name before, not even heard of a person with their power before.
It was clear that they weren’t willingly working for the Heroes, just brought in for the powers, probably having made some sort of deal. It was interesting to say the least, Supervillain was enraptured by the mystery, wanted more then anything to know more.
In the quiet of the cell Supervillain’s ears rung. The worst part is that no one had even come to see them yet, not to boast or to mock or even interrogate them. It had been a day, at the least, and other then a slot that opened in the wall to deliver them food, literally nothing had happened. It was disappointing actually.
The ringing in their ears was growing louder, more rhythmic. Supervillain frowned, stood from the uncomfortable cot and walked towards the glass door. Somewhere far above them, an alarm blared.
A quiet woosh made Supervillain turn and their brows raised as they watched Villain appear out of thin air, little whisps of darkness dissipating around them as they turned and vomited into the corner of the room.
Supervillain’s eyes fell to the thick electronic collar around their neck that was flashing with red lights, then after a moment faded.
Villain turned to them, wiped their mouth.
“I don’t have much time,” they said.
“Enough time to tell me why you just threw up in my cell? I have to sit with that smell you know.”
There was no patience in Villain’s expression.
“I will get you out of here, but I need your help if I do.”
“What kind of help?”
Villain’s cane moved so fast and with so much force it startled Supervillain as it hit their chest, pushing them against the glass wall.
“I will give you your freedom back, but first you have to promise to help me, or I will leave you here to die with the heroes.”
Supervillain raised their brows, eyes searching the desperation in Villain’s face that they failed to hide. Supervillain smirked.
“Is that right? It seems like leaving me here might hurt you more then me.” They said.
“They are on their way here right now, if you don’t agree you won’t get another chance.”
Supervillain didn’t falter. “It’s a good lie, anyone else would believe you.”
Villain grit their teeth, head suddenly darting to the side staring at the cement wall, watching something. They looked back to Supervillain. Villain took in a breath.
“Please, I need your help, but I need your guarantee that once this is all over, we are done.”
That made Supervillain grin. “Is that the part of the deal Superhero went back on? Did they enjoy your usefulness too much.”
Villain swallowed, “yes, and they have something very important to me that I need help getting back.”
They glanced again, urgency increasing.
“Make the deal,” Villain growled.
Supervillain just smiled.
“Fuck,” Villain cursed, retracting the cane and grabbing Supervillain.
They both vanished.
And appeared in a much different hallway, much more like one you’d find in an office building. Villain collapsed, using their cane to prop themself up as the collar lit up again.
Supervillain looked up from them, just in time to meet a pair of eyes as they rounded the corner. The hero just about shit themself when they came face to face with Supervillain, turning on their heel, but Supervillain was on them before they could even make a step.
Villain composed themself, pushing themself up shakily as they watch a body fall away from Supervillain. Fuck. Supervillain turned back to them.
“Feeling better?”
“Are you going to help me or what?” Villain stood fully, face pale and sweaty, but at least standing.
“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t repay the kindness paid to me?”
Villain’s jaw set. “This is why I hate people like you, why I left.”
Villain started down the hallway, the way the Hero now lay, and Supervillain followed.
“You sound like a very interesting person, why don’t I know who you are?”
Further down the hallway a group of armed Heroes stepped out of an elevator, pointed down at Villain and Superhero.
“It’s a mystery,” Villain said.
The pair and the group crashed together, Villain swinging the handle of their cane into someone’s face and then swung around, cracked into some ribs, swung down to take out some legs. They moved in a fluid movement of grace and power.
Supervillain in contrast was pure brute force, like a hammer through glass ploughing through the crowd. The pair made it to the other side leaving a pile of bodies behind them.
“You’re pretty good,” Supervillain smiled at them, “and this is without your powers?”
“Shut up,” Villain said and kept walking. “It’s not like you’ve had to use your powers yet.”
“Mm, true but I’m me.”
Villain rolled their eyes. They kept moving, Villain leading the way, moving quickly and quietly. They stopped at one point, made Supervillain crouch down before Supervillain was even aware of what it was they were hiding from. But then footsteps reached their ears, and when they looked down at Villain they could see Villain tracking something, their eyes following a path Supervillain couldn’t see. Interesting.
Villain stood back up without hesitation and Supervillain had to move quickly to keep up. Villain didn’t even glance around the next corner before walking out and stopping by a door.
“Kick this down,” they said.
“No please?”
“Kick it down before they come back.”
Supervillain sighed, “so rude,” they took a step forward and with one movement kicked the door off its hinges.
Villain moved in, not even looking around, and bee lined for one cabinet.
Supervillain on the other hand, gaped. One wall of the room was filled with computers screens, a desk at the bottom of it littered with papers and keyboards, the other side lined with shelves and cabinets holding various devices that Supervillain quickly lost interest in. They stared at the screens, pictures of people, footage following them. One screen in particular caught their eye, a newly familiar face projected onto it, a profile beside it.
The screen turned off.
Supervillain turned to Villain who was now beside them.
“We don’t have time for that,” Villain said.
They turned and went back to the cabinet they were working on.
“What is all this?” Supervillain asked.
Villain didn’t say anything, fiddling with a lock on the front of the cabinet. Supervillain sighed and stepped forward, grabbing the lock and snapping it off. Villain stared at it, then without another word opened the cabinet and started rummaging through it.
“Really? No, thank you?”
No response.
Supervillain wondered back to the other side of the room to the remaining computer screens. Clearly people being tracked, which Supervillain was aware the heroes were in the habit of, but not to this extreme. People without even an ounce of criminal history being monitored, threat levels being associated to. What was Superhero doing here? Why did they care about everyday civilians?
“Fuck’s sake,” Villain growled, slamming the cabinet closed.
“Not finding what you’re looking for?”
Villain glared at him, “I-” their eyes widen and before Supervillain can even comprehend the movement they vanish before their eyes. Villain’s presence appears beside Supervillain, and they grab them. Even with Villain’s speed they weren’t fast enough, the explosion tearing through the room.
They both went flying, crashing into the opposing wall, dust and rubble thrown everywhere. Supervillain recovered first, grabbing Villain and picking them up like a ragdoll. They moved through the dust, light beaming through as heroes poured into the room. Supervillain grabbed the nearest one, pulling them into a headbutt that shattered the hero’s nose. The room shifted suddenly, and Supervillain stumbled as they appeared in another room, hero still in their grip, barely conscious.
Supervillain pushed them to the side, looked down at Villain as they vomited blood.
“You really need to stop doing that,” Supervillain said, letting them down. “That can’t be good for your health. How are you even overriding it?”
Villain spat blood from their mouth but said nothing.
“Where are we now?” Supervillain asked looking around.
Villain looked around, unsure at first, “this way.” They struggled to their feet and started in a direction. Supervillain eyed them.
“I am very close to loosing my tolerance of being in the dark,” Supervillain said, following after them.
Villain staggered down a hallway, stopped at the sight of more heroes. Supervillain took care of them, and they kept moving.
“We’re almost there,” Villain said.
Supervillain looked at them, their face progressively getting paler, the sweat sitting on their brow. They didn’t look good.
“Where is there?”
Villain just kept moving but Supervillain grabbed their arm, pulled them back. Villain’s vision swam and they leant back against the wall.
“Ok that’s the end of my patience. Tell me now or I leave you here and break out of here myself.”
“We don’t have time for you to get a whole debrief,” they ground.
“Well make time, where are we going?”
Villain opened their mouth.
“My office.”
Both their heads whipped around to see Superhero standing at the end of the hallway.
Supervillain let Villain go.
“So, this is why you needed me,” Supervillain said. Their attention turned to Superhero. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” they said, “thought this would be a bit below you.”
“Oh no, I have all the time in the world for you,” Superhero’s eyes drifted to Villain. “And you. How are you feeling there Villain, you don’t look so good.”
Panting, Villain raised their middle finger.
“Tsk, so disrespectful. You see what I am working with here?” they shook their head, “I try to be kind, and this is what I get.”
“Where are they,” Villain snarled.
Superhero nodded to the left. “They are down that hallway, but you already know that. You also know that there are three guards and myself, so I am assuming your plan is to send Supervillain here after me, use what limited power you have to get to them and risk killing yourself to get them out. Does that sound about right?”
Villain’s jaw tightened.
“I thought as much,” Superhero said. “How about-”
“How about you shut the fuck up,” Villain growled, “I am not making any deals and I am not listening to another word out of your mouth.”
“Mm, that may be an issue. Because I think you want to know what I have to say.”
Villain glared.
“What have you done?”
Superhero smiled, shrugged.
“Alright I am feeling a little left out here,” Supervillain said, stepping in front of Villain. “How about you give me some attention.”
“Oh, gladly,” Superhero grinned. “Though I will be honest, I was enjoying seeing you in a cage.”
“You knew I would never be in there long,” Supervillain said.
“Yeah, but I’d hoped for at least a couple of days. This is just pathetic.”
“That describes you well.”
“Tch.”
The two clashed sudden and violent. It was all Villain could do to stagger out of the way. Every move was beginning to be an effort, and a new wave of nausea was threatening them.
Supervillain and Superhero battled, crashing holes in the walls, shaking the very room itself with every contact. Villain saw an opening and tried for it, regretted it.
In that moment Superhero kicked Supervillain across the room and turned to Villain, pummelling them into the wall, hand on their head. The shock reverberated through Villain, through their bones and they wheezed.
“You really think its going to be that easy?” Superhero hissed, “that I won’t find you again?”
Superhero pulled their head forward and smacked it back.
“You really think Supervillain is your answer?”
If Villain had words, they couldn’t find them.
Supervillain yanked Superhero back and Villain crumpled to the floor.
“You seem desperate for their attention,” Supervillain said. “Is there something I am missing?”
“I just know a good pawn when I see one.”
Villain tried picking themselves up, but the room was swaying beneath them. There was blood on the back of their head, in their mouth. Supervillain crashed into the wall beside them, glancing at them only a second before avoiding a punch that went through the wall between them.
“You don’t treat your pawns very well.”
“I do when they behave,” Superhero said.
Supervillain lunged, Superhero ducked, and a gunshot halted everything.
Both Superhero and Supervillain paused mid beating. Their heads turned to the hallway the sound came from, the direction of Superhero’s office. A second gunshot, then in quick succession a third. Silence. Footsteps.
Curious, Superhero arched themself around the corner, recoiling back as a bullet flew past their head, embedding in the wall behind them.
Supervillain took an educated guess, taking the chance to smack Superhero over the back of the head. They staggered and Supervillain grabbed Villain and hauled them up, rushing around the corner.
Supervillain came face to face with a person, Partner, gun steadily aimed. Behind them a young child cowered, covering their ears.
“You must be the leverage against Villain,” Supervillain said.
Partner’s eyes shot to Villain, who was awkwardly held up by Supervillain’s arm. It took all their will power not to drop the gun then and there, to grab them and take them away. Villain tried pushing themselves out of Supervillain’s grasp but they held on tighter.
“Nuh, uh, the deal was you get me out of here.”
Behind them Superhero was collecting themself.
“You can’t,” Partner said.
“I have to,” Villain panted.
Villain held out their hand, and there was no time for hesitation. Partner grabbed the child, then Villain and the collar lit up.
They appeared somewhere outside, air crisp and light, sun slowly setting. Supervillain let Villain go, let them collapse into Partner’s arms who took them tightly, re-aiming their gun at Supervillain’s head.
“This is the part where you leave,” they growled.
Supervillain cocked their head. “I’m not sure you want that.” They gestured to Villain.
Partner looked down at Villain, flattening their hand against their back. Their very still back.
“Villain?” Partner breathed.
Quickly they laid Villain down, fingers pressed into their neck. Nothing.
“I can help,” Supervillain said, “I can save them.”
Partner looked up at them, fear and anger.
“At what cost.”
Supervillain gave a small shrug. “Just one favour, that’s all. It’s the least they can do for the mess they caused.”
Partner glared, jaw tight. There was no thinking about it, no choice to make.
It can be somewhat disheartening when you the artisans and craftsman of yesteryear who created miracles out of limited technology go forgotten. Always nice to see someone somewhere making tributes to them.
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.
Could I request a snippet about a hero who keeps getting possessed by the villain, and asks their sidekick to handcuff them to the bedposts. But then, the villain arrives.
Thanks in advance :)
The possessions were getting more frequent and, according to the hero, more difficult to shake.
"I'm not agreeing to this because I'm worried," the sidekick said, twisting the handcuffs between their fingers. "I think you're fine. And it's all going to be fine."
"Duly noted." The hero tried for a smile, but it was a wan thing. Between that and the dark circles beneath their eyes, all of the cracks of the hero's usually untouchable were showing.
Nobody could beat them in a fight - the sidekick had seen that - but a threat already under their skin might be the one thing the hero was vulnerable to.
The sidekick swallowed, and they both hesitated, floundered, beneath the new territory they found themselves in.
"This is just," the sidekick added, "to put your mind at ease."
"Yeah." The hero's gaze slid away. "So long as it is my mind, right?"
The sidekick didn't know what to say to that.
"Sorry," the hero said. They shifted back, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, exhaling a breath. "Thank you, for doing this."
"Eh, you know. Perks of the job." The sidekick tried for a smile, and they were pretty sure theirs had strained around the edges too. "Tying my incredibly hot boss to a bed. It's the worst thing ever."
The hero did laugh at that, which the sidekick felt an inordinate rush of pride at. At least, it seemed to diffuse some of the tension.
The sidekick inhaled a steadying gulp of air, because they weren't entirely lying about the incredibly hot part, and moved forwards.
The hero shuffled obligingly back to the headboard and spread their arms.
Mirrors surrounded the bed on every side, propped up against the walls, angled to catch the hero's deep brown eyes in their reflection.
"You need to make sure I can't escape." The hero's tone had turned more serious. "You won't win a fight against them in this - in my -" the hero stopped, and didn't finish.
"Yeah." That would be bad. The sidekick was ashamed to feel their fingers tremble a little, and they knew the hero felt it.
Worried! Who was worried? There was nothing remotely worrying about a villain taking residence in someone virtually indestructible. This was all peachy. So what if the times the hero spent possessed were getting both longer and closer together.
The sidekick cinched the hero's left and most dominant wrist first, securing it as tight as they could without risking nerve damage. Then they moved to the other side of the bed.
The hero seized hold of their arm.
The sidekick's breath stuttered. Their eyes met.
"Hurry." The hero's voice had gone hoarse. "I'm not going to be able to hold on much longer."
"You need to let go of me."
The hero looked down at their hand, as if surprised. Their fingers recoiled.
Okay, maybe the sidekick was worried. Just a little bit.
The sidekick continued as fast as they could, leaning over the hero to reach, willing their fingers not to fumble over the key. They should have practiced this more. How likely was it that the hero could break down a steel bed frame on pure strength? Their heart hammered.
"Whatever I say," the hero began - and stopped.
The sidekick pulled back, handcuffs locked, key tucked in their fist.
"I know," they said. "Whatever you say, don't untie you. Not even if-"
The hero's legs swung, locking around the sidekick's waist and yanking them onto the bed as if they weighed no more than a ragdoll. The sidekick yelped, only just managing to keep hold of the two keys, colliding hard into the hero's chest.
The sidekick's gaze snapped up to the hero's face - exactly the same as ever - before darting to the reflection of the mirror. In the mirror, their face was nearly the same, but not quite. The hero's brown eyes had turned a ghostly blue.
This was not their hero.
But the sidekick had already known that.
"I could crush you," the villain said, almost conversationally. Their legs tightened where they curled around the sidekick. "Snap your ribs, right here, right now. So I suggest-"
The sidekick hurled the keys across the room, as far away as possible, where the villain couldn't possibly get them so easily. One hit and splintered a mirror with a loud crack, the other hit the ground with a clatter.
The villain's expression darkened, just for a moment.
The sidekick struggled to push themselves up, to twist free, but only succeeded in somewhat straddling the hero's body. They'd seen the hero lift cars with their bare hands - of course escaping their form would no be so easy. The sidekick clenched their jaw and glared down at the villain.
"Let go of me."
"Let me go first."
"That's not going to happen."
"Ah, I see. You enjoy being top of them, don't you? Your admirable hero, who seems so above you in every way, always so in control. Don't you just imagine making all those walls crumble?-"
"Shut up." The sidekick's cheeks flushed.
"Or maybe you always pictured it the other way around." The villain's head tilted, their fingers flexing in the cuffs with barely leashed danger. "Maybe you imagined they would use all that power of theirs to simply take what they want from you, hm?"
"This is desperate." The sidekick tried to jerk free again, uselessly. "And pathetic. So-"
"They don't feel the same way about you, alas."
The sidekick stopped, even when they didn't want to, even whey they shouldn't. Nothing the villain spoke of could be reliably claimed as the truth.
"They didn't even want to ask you for help today - they hated it," the villain said. "You're their little ward, their sidekick. You need to be protected, don't you? But I'm meeting you now, aren't I? Despite their very best useless efforts to keep me out. I can feel them fighting, you know, begging me not to hurt you. But they can't do anything about it."
The sidekick said nothing.
"How does it feel to know that they will never take you seriously? Never view you as an equal? Never even consider you as a contender for their heart?"
"It feels like you're talking," the sidekick bared their teeth, "because you know there's nothing else you can do. They've beaten you. Even in their body, you will always be a parasite, powerless except for what other people can give you."
The villain went silent again.
"I'd want you," the villain said. "You're as vicious as I am, when you want to be."
The sidekick wanted to cry at that comparison, hating the thought they were more like their enemy than their mentor, especially because some small part of them had always feared that it was true. Kindness seemed to come effortlessly to the hero, just like bravery, like all those virtues that the sidekick had to work so hard to emulate.
Of course, the hero would never return their feelings. The villain was blind if they ever thought the sidekick had expected that, however much the longing ached.
"Let. Go," the sidekick said, hating that their voice shook. "You're not going to get what you want from me. You can see their thoughts? Then you know that. I have my orders."
The villain's head tilted, considering them again.
"It's nice," the villain said. "To finally meet you."
And then they used the hero's strength to wrench the bed frame in two.
tw: kidnapping, mind control, non-con touching (not sexual)
“You won’t get away with this,” the hero hissed through gritted teeth, jerking against the metal restraints that pinned them thoroughly down against the table. Supervillain’s lips quirked into a smirk, clear amusement dancing in their eyes.
“Darling,” they purred, stopping by the edge of the table. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be funny.”
The hero gulped, trying to keep the fear off their face. They hadn’t meant to get captured by Supervillain, and they had been separated from Sidekick moments before their trap had sprung, and Hero had been knocked out cold. They hoped their sidekick was getting backup, or getting out of here.
Supervillain was dangerous. Far too dangerous to have been wandering in their lair, but Superhero had orders, and they were meant to follow. The Agency had been keen on tackling the supervillain to prevent their most recent plans from going ahead.
But it seemed they were unaware that by doing so, they’d given Supervillain exactly what they wanted.
“Let me go,” they ordered, clenching their fists. “The Agency will come for me, and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.”
Even though they were confident, they had to stop their voice from shaking. It boomed around the room, flickering with fear every so often. Supervillain hummed, smiling, before they slid their finger against the hero’s temple.
“Turn your attention to that painting, will you?” They ordered, and against their better judgement, Hero obeyed. The supervillain was known for being able to assert control through touch, but the Agency knew it wasn’t strong enough to completely overwhelm a person’s thoughts. They were perfectly lucid when given a command, and it could only be initiated through touch near the mind.
Hero’s eyes locked onto the long painting against the wall, swallowing thickly.
“Know what that is, darling?” They asked, glancing at them thoughtfully. The hero couldn’t think straight, but they shook their head regardless, spitting an answer through gritted teeth.
“No.”
“Shame,” Supervillain sighed, crossing their arms over their chest. “I am quite a big fan of the Catilinarian Orations, you know. In fact, I enjoy all of Cicero’s works. I think he’s an oratory genius, despite the irony that it was what got him killed.”
Hero tugged lightly on their restraints. Still not moving. They tried to focus on their breathing, eyes moving along the painting.
“It’s such a fascinating painting,” Supervillain drawled, staring at it in awe, as if they were seeing it for the first time again. “Beautiful. See here, this man, Cicero, delivering his famous speeches to the Senate to convince them that that man, Lucius Sergius Catilina, has intentions to overthrow them. The way it captivates his isolation, the boundless power of rhetoric against evil—don’t you find it truly amazing?”
Hero could sense their focus shifting, the effects of the minor control fading away. They blinked rapidly, meeting Supervillain’s terrifying gaze. They swallowed thickly, mustering up the courage to reply.
“I’m not a big lover of paintings,” they responded coldly, eyes darting elsewhere. “Or the Greeks.”
The criminal coughed. “Romans, but I’ll let you off, darling. I find myself rather similar to Catiline, in some ways.”
Hero pressed their lips into a thin line. “Is that a good thing? Wasn’t he supposed to be evil?”
“To the Senate, of course he was,” Supervillain grinned, stepping around the table, admiring the way Hero watched them beadily. “They were looking after themselves, after all. He may have been painted as an evil figure, but really, the Senate was in desperate need of getting rid of.”
Hero blinked, confused.
“It was corrupt. Riddled with bribery, and weak willed old men who would bow to any man who threatened to turn their armies on Rome. Collapse was necessary. Know what that reminds me of?”
The coy tone in their voice had Hero shaking their head, voice turning angry. “The Agency isn’t corrupt.”
“And I’m sure those Senator’s thought the same thing, in one way or another. Or told themselves that so they could simply stay in power,” the criminal chuckled darkly. “Turning on any man who threatened their position, and their precious Republic. Catiline was humiliated, torn from his people, and forced to adhere to their poor excuse of a government. The Agency doesn’t care about you, Hero. They don’t care as long as they get their money; I find the Agency has a particularly heavy price on my head for my capture, no?”
The hero’s hairs stood to attention, stomach twisting with nerves.
“That’s because you’re evil,” they hissed in a breathy whisper, jerking on their chains. “Let me go.”
“That’s what the Senate claimed too,” Supervillain whispered back, carding their hands through Hero’s hair. They let out a trembling cry and jerked harder on their restraints. “To hide behind their own wrongdoings. I threaten to expose them for what they are, and destroy them from the inside. That’s why they love to paint me in a negative light. But will it truly be bad, if the Agency is destroyed?”
Hero felt a hand tighten in their locks, stopping their head from thrashing. Their eyes burned with tears as terror punched straight through their gut, voice rising to a desperate scream.
“Let me go!”
“Let one evil thing destroy another,” they hummed calmly, smiling down at them. “I have always been of the opinion that unpopularity earned by doing what is right, is not unpopularity at all, but glory. Ironic, that a quote from the First Oration speaks to me so much. Maybe Cicero was nothing but a coward compromising an outcome that benefitted nothing but himself, but who am I to say? Oh well, it’s all in the past now, isn’t it?”
Hero felt a sharp pinch on their neck, and they seized up, spilling into pained sobs. They felt fingers pressing against the sides of their temple, vision starting to swim.
“Just a little something to strengthen the effects of my power, that’s all. Need to keep your conscious asleep so you’re all mine to use. You understand, don’t you?”
Hero could feel their muscles melting into the table, something sliding through their thoughts and dousing them all out.
“No. No, no, please, no,” they slurred, eyelids fluttering with drowsiness. “No, no. Please...”
“Hush, pretty thing,” Supervillain whispered softly, stroking their temples and soothing their worries. “When you wake up, the Agency will be gone. And you won’t have to worry about them ever again...”
If your still taking suggestions, could you do one with the hero getting captured by the villain and they are getting beaten and tortured, then the other villain (the one that likes the hero and vise versa) comes to save them?
Btw I love your stories so much!!!
"You do get yourself in the most awkward situations, don't you?"
The hero opened their eyes. It took a moment for their vision to stop wavering and for the villain to come into focus - standing in front of them on the other side of the cell door, almost convincingly at ease. There was a spot of blood on the villain's collar.
The hero had never seen the villain look anything other than immaculate.
It took them another few moments of staring to realise that they probably weren't hallucinating, actually, as the villain got to work untangling the security wards on the door.
"Hi," the hero said.
The villain smiled, a flash of thing that didn't reach the oncoming storm in their eyes. "Hello."
"You took your time."
"Ah, well," they said. "You know how much I like seeing you bloody. I would have missed out if I came sooner."
The hero wheezed a laugh and instantly regretted it. They must have passed out for a second, before when they world unblurred the villain had moved and the door was...
Dust.
There was no door anymore.
The villain's magic roiled seething as they knelt in front of the hero, studying them for a beat.
"Stay with me," the villain said, softer. "You're going to be okay."
The hero swallowed.
The villain dropped their attention to the hero's power-blocking restraints.
It struck the hero then that there should have been guards. The other villain. Some sort of alarm blaring, perhaps. The air was eerily still and the compound deathly quiet except for the hero's ragged breathing.
"Did you kill them?" the hero asked.
"Depends. Are you going to lecture me if I say 'yes'?"
"I don't lecture."
"A stern moral talking to. You don't have the energy for one of those right now, I think."
"Most of them were just doing their jobs. Trying to keep their loved ones safe."
"And most of them," the villain said pleasantly, "died screaming for hurting you." They managed to get one of cuffs off, dropping it with a hiss of pain against the concrete floor. "Rest your voice. You sound awful. Screaming is bad for your throat."
The hero frowned.
The villain moved onto the second set of restraints. Up close, any mirage of being at ease vanished entirely. There were dark circles under their eyes. Their jaw was locked rigid. Their hands were far too steady as they worked.
"I know you came as soon as you could."
"Rest. Your. Voice."
"Thank you."
The villain's gaze cut up to them, blazing. They reached a hand up to trace one of the bruises on the hero's cheek.
"But I still don't think you should have killed them," the hero said.
The villain scoffed, rolling their eyes. Their grip tightened on the hero's jaw, but not quite enough to hurt, before letting go and returning to the restraints.
They came off again soon enough, and the villain hurled them across the room hard enough that they dented a wall.
Power rushed through the hero. It didn't stop the pain, but it did make them feel slightly less like something had been amputated.
The villain's gaze moved over them again.
"I can walk," the hero said.
The villain raised a brow.
"I can limp."
"Mm. If you pass out again, I'm carrying you. And taking photos." The villain offered them an arm, helping them up.
The hero staggered, and the villain's grip tightened on them, steadying them. They made it until a stair jolted them until passing out again.
There were so many photos.
But they were safe. And looked after.
And they knew, every time, that the villain would always come.
I debated not posting anything and just disappearing for a while, and though I am still not convinced anyone will really care, I figured for those who may be waiting for things I should. There may be no one waiting for things and this is just an egotistical assumption of mine, but it makes me feel a little better assuming people are so I will continue to do so.
I don’t post consistently to begin with but I won’t be able to post for an even longer time at the moment. I am in a bit of a depressive or low mood episode and can’t really write or post at all. It’s taking everything within me not to delete everything I have ever done and hide away in a hole. But I am resisting and writing this instead.
I will be fine, just need to ride the wave really and take care of myself as I go. I have support and I am ok, just can’t post at the moment.
Words and stuff @sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
