bitter-space

[bitter-space]

hello there!

ive been scouraging whumpblr end to end and stumbled across your masterpiece of a story- heroic betrayal. I have become rather deeply obsessed with your beautiful writing, and was merely wondering, if you would, perhaps, by any chance, write another wonderful part to the story, perchance? >o<

Heroic Betrayal (XI)

Read part one // Masterpost // continued from here

A little Flynn centric chapter? Mind into the betraying, backstabbing bastard?? Hmm?? More likely than you think👀 also… so sorry it’s late, I was on an adventure today <3

[whoops sorry, I meant to publish this in reply to the ask - which, thank you Nonny for reaching out, I'm delighted you enjoyed and you found it at a great time because the next part was to be updated today! XD]

*~*~*~*~*

Flynn led Morgan with his hand in hers, an arm around her waist in case her legs buckled or a sudden drop in energy gripped her. He wanted to be sure she stayed standing and if he she couldn’t, make sure she was close enough for him to catch and keep her on her feet.

Halfway up the stairs Morgan stopped walking. Flynn looked at her.

“Why— I thought we were watching a movie,” she said with a pout, her pupils nearly eclipsing the beautiful colour of her eyes. It turned Flynn’s stomach.

“We are,” he told her, forcing a smile on his face. “I have a TV in my room.”

Morgan stumbled back a step with a shake of her head. Her eyes widened as she almost slipped off the step with a startled sharp breath. Flynn hooked his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her flush against him before she could fall backwards.

Her wide eyes exposed her blown pupils, her brows crinkled in relief as she gazed up at him. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Flynn’s heart stuttered in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

He started making the way up the stairs again when Morgan protested again. Her brows furrowed. “But… the movie,” she said, her voice pained.

Flynn nodded. “We can watch it in my room,” he repeated patiently. Morgan shook her head and went to pull back again. Flynn’s grip tightened. “Morgan—”

“Please,” she said, her voice light and airy and painted with a deep sadness. “Please, I don’t want to go back to a room, can’t we— can we…” she trailed off, her brows forming a groove over her eyes, casting them in shadows. Her eyes themselves glazed over, losing her trail of thought. “I…”

Flynn didn’t need her to explain what she was about to say. He could feel her confusion, the fogginess of her mind clouded by the painkillers Supervillain gave her. He clenched his jaw, hands tightening around Morgan. She didn’t… fuck, she didn’t deserve this. Any of this.

“We can watch it downstairs,” he said softly. Morgan’s confusion cleared, replaced with a light happiness like the sun that revealed itself from the parted clouds after a storm.

“Really?” She asked, excitement replacing the fog. Flynn swallowed.

“Yeah. Really.”

They started their descent which was more difficult than their ascent, but they made it to the bottom without Flynn having to carry Morgan down. Something he knew she would hate him for when she sobered up tomorrow. God, what a mess. He never… he never thought that Dad would take it this far, that he—

Flynn never saw him as terrifying as he did today. When Morgan just had to keep pushing until he snapped. Flynn should have… he should have done more! Done something, stopped him. If he knew— if he knew what the result would be he—

He almost scoffed at himself. Those were a cowards thoughts, something he and Morgan could agree on tomorrow when she was herself again and hating him. But he didn’t want her to hate him. He wanted to be like how they were, even though he knew it was impossible as he led her past the basement and across the front door into their giant living room.

Morgan paused again, gasped. “Holy… what the…” Flynn looked at her and he wished he didn’t. The child like awe on her face at seeing Flynn’s favourite room in the house was something he wished he could picture and frame and hold forever in his head.

Morgan was always stunning, but looking at her without any of the stress of life on her shoulders, without any hatred or pain in her expression Flynn felt his chest tighten at the sight. The sun shining in from the floor to ceiling windows bounced off her silvery white hair, making it glow like a halo around her head. It bounced off her pale skin too, making her radiant and other worldly as she took in everything.

Flynn turned his head to follow her line of sight, hoping to find the wonderment she felt, but his gaze always trailed back to Morgan. She was far more stunning to look at.

“Your TV is massive,” she said with a soft laugh, as if in disbelief. She started walking and Flynn walked with her, but it was as if the room had steadied her, like it put her under a different trance and lured her towards the beige leather couches a few feet in front of the TV.

She giggled as she settled into the couch, her eyes taking a mischievous glint that Flynn registered too late. She pulled at his hand and yanked him down. Caught by surprise, Flynn lost his balance. One hand shot out to the back of the couch so he didn’t fall straight on her while Morgan laughed under him, grinning as he steadied himself with a knee on the couch beside her hip.

“Morgan,” he said, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She grinned up at him, eyes glinting with the same mischief as before. She wrapped her legs around his hips and moved him until he was lying on top of her on the couch, supported by his elbows. “Morgan, I—”

She shook her head. Her expression softened as she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. Flynn swallowed as he felt the calluses from her palms stroke his cheek from years of training with her blades. He should get up, he should get up.

He should really get up.

He didn’t want to get up.

“I missed you,” she whispered. Quietly, almost imperceptible, but Flynn heard it and it may as well have been thunder cracking across the sky for how loud her words were. His brows furrowed over his eyes, eyes pained as he looked down at her.

“Morgan…” Flynn said, his voice cracking with emotion. He knew the subtle shift in her expression that she wore when she was going to kiss him. She leaned up but Flynn stopped her. He grabbed her wrist, gently pulled it from his face and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he sat back on her hips, knees straddling either side of her.

A look of hurt flashed across her features and she turned her head away, a tinge of red bloomed on her cheeks. Flynn swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed off her. She curled in on herself as he did, staring down dazed at her right hand that was wrapped in thick bandages.

“What kind of movie would you like?” Flynn asked, grabbing the remotes and coming back to the couch to sit beside her. Morgan just stared, slightly flexing the tops of her fingertips.

“He stabbed me through the hand,” she murmured, her voice distant, faraway. Flynn closed his eyes. Gods. “I… I can’t feel the connection to my blades.”

Her eyes flashed to Flynn’s, ensnaring his attention within her gaze.

“I… I feel empty, wrong. Like he… he- severed—” her bottom lip trembled as she cut herself off and she turned back to look at her hand, at her twitching fingers. The only movement she could make. “I can’t feel them.”

Flynn stood and turned to kneel in front of her. Watery green eyes met his, looking more like glass that was so thin even a breath could shatter them.

He grabbed her good hand in his. “Morgan, it’s just whatever painkillers he gave you, okay? Your body is exhausted and it probably doesn’t have any energy left to use your powers.”

“But… but I can always feel them,” she whispered. And her voice. Oh gods, she sounded so scared. “There’s-” she gasped, shaking her head as she started to sit up. “No, no, no. There’s something wrong. He… he—”

Flynn followed her up into her sitting, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“He… oh gods, Flynn,” she said. She couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she broke down. Tears that had pooled in her eyes spilled over her eyelids and down her face in sudden, swift streams. She lurched forwards and wrapped her arms around Flynn’s neck and pulled at him, pulled him closer, sobbing into his shoulder as he held her. He put his hand over her shoulder to avoid her bandaged head and pulled her from the couch into his lap.

“I can’t— I can’t… I can’t, Flynn, I- I…” she whimpered while Flynn held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He felt his own face burn with shame as he heard her cries and the violence of her back convulsing with the force of her wails.

“I know, I know. It’s just the drugs, Morg—”

Morgan pulled back sharply, her eyes glistening with tears as she shook her head. “No, I can’t… I can’t stay here anymore. Please… please, I can’t. I- I-”

Flynn was glad when Morgan closed the distance between them and buried her head in his shoulder again so she couldn’t see the expression on his face. If she could she would have seen his heart break on his face, his guilt draining all colour from his cheeks followed by the familiar sharp, burning red of shame.

He tightened his arms around her. He reached for her mind, and regretted it instantly. It was all jumbled chaos and fretful, fleeting thoughts. If he could just… just lessen her pain for a little while, so she didn’t have to feel so—

No.

No, gods fucking no. That was so wrong. So sick. It wasn’t Morgan he cared about if he did that. That would only be good for him. She deserved to express her emotions exactly as she felt them.

How many times had he thought to carelessly traipse through her head like he was welcomed there? Even before this, Morgan barely tolerated it, but now… in her state, it would be a betrayal more monstrous than bringing her here.

He felt so helpless to soothe her. What could he say? I’ll help you escape? I’ll get you out of here? He… he couldn’t…

He…

Morgan needed to be out of the way if Supervillain’s plan was to go ahead, and it must. It would only be a few weeks, a couple months at most and then Morgan would be let go. She would be released and all this would be like a bad dream.

Flynn could… he could make it seem like it was just a bad dream she had. If she wanted, and only if she wanted. He couldn’t— no he wouldn’t use his power on her again without her permission. Dad and Villain took what they wanted from her, and forced her to do what they wanted. Flynn had to be different.

If she was to ever trust him again, he had to be better.

Morgan lay boneless against Flynn’s chest, her sobs died and gave way to heavy deep breaths. Flynn held her tight, cradled to his chest like a child his chin resting on her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Flynn blinked surprised. She drew lines with her fingers over his breastbone, tracing invisible patterns over the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for what I said about your mother… I was… I was angry and I—”

Flynn tightened his arms around and let out a sigh. “You don’t have to apologise, Morgan. I know. I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have said it,” she said, her voice clogged with the thick, viscous emotion that sticks to the throat like toffee and early morning grogginess that follows crying. “Especially in anger, I knew it would hurt you.”

Flynn said nothing for a moment. What was there to say? Should he apologise for all the awful things that he’s said and done to her, they’d be here for hours.

“You were hurting too, Morgan,” Flynn said softly. “It makes sense that you’d lash out with words. It’s the only thing you can do here.”

“It was below the belt.”

“And what Dad did to you isn’t?” Flynn asked with a scoff.

Morgan let out a breath of a laugh. “I guess, but I—”

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Morg. I’m sorry that I was distant and cold. I know that I’m your only friend here and I should’ve—”

A rough palm on his face silenced him. He looked down at Morgan, into her crystal clear green eyes that were as magnificent as the dead sea. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Her lips were salty from tears and Flynn wanted nothing more than to kiss her back fervently but she was high on pain meds and she would hate him if they—

She pulled away after a short, sweet moment and Flynn stared down at her, his shock evident on his face. She smiled warmly at him.

“I won’t give out to you tomorrow for it,” she said softly. “I just… needed to. I don’t want to fight anymore. I—”

She glanced down at her bandaged hand, wiggled her fingertips. “I understand now. I get it. I’ll stop fighting everything.”

She looked at him through her lashes. “I’ll stop fighting you. We can… we can go back to how things were, can’t we?”

Flynn stared at her, lost for words as her eyes glazed with tears again. “Please, I’m— I need you to—”

Flynn cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, fiercely. Wet tears hit Flynn’s cheeks as he stood, catching Morgan’s legs under the knees. She pulled back and gasped at the sudden movement, as Flynn turned and lay Morgan down on the couch. Her smile twitched at the sides, drawing up at the corners into a smirk, hands hooked around his neck and pulled him down on top of her again.

Flynn grinned against her lips, hand on her hip as hers wandered into the back of his hair and pulled him down further. They pulled away, breaths mingling between the inch of space between them.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her and Morgan swallowed.

“I missed your hair,” she said with a giggle, twirling a piece of his fiery red hair between her fingers. Flynn smirked.

“Is that all you missed?”

She hooked a leg around his thigh and pulled their bodies impossibly closer. She laughed at the surprise that blanketed his expression before smashing her lips to his again, smiling against them. He tightened his grip on her hip as his other hand travelled to her cheek before he broke the kiss.

“No,” she said. “I missed your smile.” Flynn swore his lungs stopped working as she reached up and traced her thumb over his bottom lip. Something shifted in her expression as she stared up at him, her eyes suddenly faraway. “Your real smile.”

“Morgan…” he said with a sigh. She closed her eyes as he took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.

“I know,” she whispered. “I… I know. I know now, I do. For you, for Sidekick,” she glanced at her bandaged hand. “For… for myself, I know now. I promise.”

Flynn had the sudden urge to break something. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t have to know. She shouldn’t have to be here, but she… if he could ask her to stay out of it, and she would, they would have never have had to go to these extreme measures.

Flynn didn’t say any of that. Instead he gazed down at her and smiled, exposing his dimple. “What movie do you want to watch?”

She grinned up at him.

Flynn closed his eyes, his head hanging. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” She said, her eyes alive with mischief. “I get to choose. You asked me, and Supervillain said I can’t sleep so…”

“Anything but that, Morgan, please.”

“If I have to suffer here, so do you.” Flynn laughed as he climbed off her and grabbed the remotes.

“Fair enough.”

They watched Twilight. Halfway through New Moon, Morgan was cuddled up to Flynn’s chest, buried under a thick blue throw blanket, her bandaged head resting on his shoulder.

Flynn sensed Supervillain before he walked in. Flynn unconsciously tightened his hold around Morgan’s waist. He checked his watch that Villain and Flynn got him for his birthday when Flynn was sixteen.

“It has been long enough. She should be fine.” Flynn kept his eyes on the TV as he spoke. “I see you’ve made up. That’s progress.”

“You went too far today, Dad,” Flynn said, his voice hard. “Stabbing her through her hand—”

“I went as far as I had to.”

Flynn turned his head, eyes narrowed as he caught Supervillain’s impassive stare. He knew where Villain got that look from, and he hated it.

“You could’ve just threatened—”

“Her beloved Sidekick?” Supervillain asked, raising his brows. Flynn scoffed and glanced back at the TV. “She is… a very spirited girl, Flynn. Anything less than what I did today wouldn’t have gotten through to her. You and I both know that.”

Flynn clenched his jaw, a surge of helpless fury ran through his veins like a bush fire. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I said that I would do whatever is necessary to ensure she doesn’t interfere.” Flynn glared at the television as Supervillain walked towards the couch. He stood directly in front of the screen so Flynn’s glare was on his chest instead. “Don’t forget what side you’re on, son.”

Supervillain’s eyes slid to Morgan who slept peacefully while they spoke. “She is a very beautiful girl. I understand your love for her… it was the same I had for your mother,” he said softly. His eyes found Flynn’s again, a glint in his eyes like metal threatened to cut Flynn. “But just know, that if I had merely threatened her today, she would still despise you for what you did to her. Remember that while you’re scorning me in your head.”

Flynn blinked at him, like a toddler caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Supervillain’s lips twitched and he shot Flynn a wink. “A parent always knows. I’ll leave you both.”

Flynn looked down at Morgan, his expression heavier than before. “And Flynn, for the record,” Supervillain added. “I am happy to see you’ve made up.”

Flynn didn’t reply.

Happy for me, Flynn thought bitterly, or happy for you.

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @swift-perseides @gloriousqueen101 @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @jumpywhumpywriter @bitter-space @lumpofsand

@xxgalgurlxx @silentpotat0 @ladygwennn @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@sunflower1000 @whump-till-ya-jump

[bitter-space]

a villain saving a hero from being mind controlled

Villain stepped cautiously into the old boxing gym. Hero was in the ring, fists flying against an instructor that was more clear and distinct than even Hero themselves. And he wasn’t going easy on Hero.

Hero, a younger version of them, was covered in a thick sheen of sweat like oil clinging to their skin. Villain could tell they’d been here for hours, maybe doing the same drills, maybe others. He watched, hands in trouser pockets as Hero’s right hook hit the pad weaker than it should’ve.

Instructor moved lightning fast and suddenly Hero was on the floor. Villain jerked forward, prepared to step in before Hero grunted with effort and he paused. Villain knew that sound all too well and it froze him in his movements. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw Hero throw their weight backwards, tumbling feet over head in one fluid motion and stood gracefully again, ready to fight.

Villain had seen that move too many times, heard that infuriating heroic grunt that conceded a little exertion but it didn’t mean Hero was finished. They were just conceding a point to their opponent and the next round was about to begin, a reset button.

When Instructor spoke it was murky as the scene swirled around them and Villain made sure not to hit off any of the furniture or items in the new setting which looked like a… museum, or a library.

Hero was tucked away in a corner, hunched over a desk, a little older now, hair falling over their face as they read from one of the many books scattered around them. Villain smiled at Hero’s reading glasses that were wide as saucers. They looked like such a little nerd. Nobody would think they were looking at a hero, nevermind the Hero themself. Their lean physique was hidden under layers of clothes, a turtleneck and a chunky cardigan that made them look softer, their edges more round.

Their eyes a little more hollow.

“Hero.”

Hero’s head snapped up, violet eyes meeting Villain’s. Hero swallowed, their gaze darting around the room before they settled on Villain again.

“You… you can’t be here,” Hero whispered, fear lacing every word.

Villain walked in further and took the seat opposite Hero, sliding into it and resting a hand on the table. “And yet, here I am,” Villain said at a conversational volume.

“If Superhero finds out—”

“What can he do? Hmm?” Villain asked, tilting his head. This close Hero looked worse than Villain feared. Fuck. Even for Superhero this was fucked up. To keep Hero locked in a trance like this, scared of disrupting any memory they were forced to relive over and over.

The dark circles around Hero’s eyes glowed a dim purple like a bruise, but Villain recognised it as Nokio’s ability, shutting down the mind, trapping the consciousness within so Hero’s body could be puppeted without resistance; forced to obey commands they weren’t even aware of.

“Some of us need to study, Villain,” Hero snapped, the purple veins flashing a bright— bright purple colour. “I can’t fail this exam—”

“You don’t need to study, Hero.”

“Just because you’re a genius—”

“You’ve already sat your exam, Hero.”

Hero froze. Blinked. Stuttered. They tilted their head at Villain. “Are you— is this some kind of psyching me out kind of trick? Because it won’t work.”

“We have already sat these exams, Hero. You know it. Deep down, somewhere inside you knows I’m right.”

“Villain—”

“We both passed and got our Hero licence. You were obviously second best,” Villain said with a grin like a knife. “But we can’t all be geniuses, as you say.”

“This is a weird joke,” Hero said eventually with a scoff and looked down at their book again. Villain glanced down too. He couldn’t see any words on the pages. Just lines of black writing.

“Fine,” Villain shrugged leaning in. “What exam are you studying for?”

“The Hero licence fin—”

“I know. Which exam?” Villain asked, cutting Hero off. He pulled his chair in until his torso was flush with the wood, clasping his fingers together in front of him and tilted his head to the side.

“The—” Hero said, trailing off. Their eyes wandered and a troubled look crossed their features. Their eyes burned purple. “The…” then they shook their head and let out a breath of a laugh. “God, I can’t remember. I must have been studying too long.”

“Okay,” Villain shrugged. “Just read what’s on the page you’re reading then.”

Hero’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. “Fine!” They said with a scoff as they looked down again. “The… uh— the…”

Villain watched with an eagerness as Hero’s features pinched on their face, a crease forming between their brilliant brows and a furrow forming over their forehead. Hero’s grip tightened on the book, their hands began to shake.

“Villain…” they said after a moment, looking up with wide petrified eyes. “Why am I calling you Villain? That’s not your name. Your hero name was other hero. I remember. We picked it out together. And when you changed it to Villain, god I—”

Villain smiled and sat back. Hero’s physique morphed again, older again, but at least now they looked like the Hero Villain knew from the present. Comfortable clothes, a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants with a white tee, that made it easy for fighting and going for groceries.

The library changed around them again, bleeding away to a black, voided emptiness.

“Villain, what’s going on?”

Villain sighed. “Finally. That took longer than it should have, Hero.”

“Why are you— what’s—”

“Superhero hired Nokio to subdue you and make you work for him, hide you away in your mind so you would be an obedient little—” before Villain could finish he gasped, cutting himself off. His air felt breathy, unreal as a spike of purple coiled rope erupted from his chest.

“VILLAIN!”

Villain fell to his knees. “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you Villain?” Nokio’s voice boomed around them, echoing off nothing. High pitched and grating, so the same as Villain remembered. Villain reached out to grab the spike.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not—

Twin coils of rope wound around Villain’s wrists, thorns like the ones you’d find on a rosebush stuck into Villain’s skin, knotting itself like barbed wire around him.

“Villain!” Hero gasped, dropping to their knees in front of Villain. Villain smiled, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. “What do I do? WhatdoIdo? How do I help? Villain?!”

The tears in Hero’s eyes pulled at Villain’s heartstrings. God. He forgot he still had those. “Fight, Hero,” Villain gasped. “I can’t help you. But fight, Nokio is nothing compared to—”

A shrill scream and Villain was torn from Hero’s mind and back into their body. The force of the expulsion shot them back across the room and Villain gasped, spluttering, grabbing at the phantom spike in his chest.

He grinned. All he had to do was wait. Hero would free themself, and then Superhero would have something to really worry about.

[bitter-space]

Yes.

Dark Horse Painted White Part 3

Pt 1 Pt 2

Hero couldn't help the feeling of guilt clawing at their throat. They were at such a loss! They'd tried so hard to be nice to civilian this morning, but it was as if the nicer they were, the more Civilian seemed to hate them! They didn't understand what they'd done so wrong!

Despite their loss of appetite, hero ate their omelette to avoid being rude, before doing the dishes like they'd promised. They wiped down the table, and even spotted a broom behind the fridge they used to sweep.

When their civilian host still wasn't back yet. Hero awkwardly lay back down on the couch, not daring to touch anything else they might get in trouble for. It was very rare they ever got the opportunity to sleep in like this, nevermind have free time. What should they do? It's not like they had time for any hobbies. What did normal people do with time off?

Hero continued staring at the ceiling. They'd checked their phone a half dozen times. No new assignments or instructions from their boss. They hadn't even gotten any paperwork passed off to them yet. They received nothing but radio silence, all their time meant to be dedicated to protecting the Civilian.

Finally, after what felt like hours of staring at the wall, hero heard the door at the end of the hall open and the clacking of claws approach. Immediately, they sat up to attention.

Civilian rounded the corner, holding a notebook and a pen but their eyes stayed trained on their phone as they typed with their other hand.

"Here," they said, tossing the two items onto the coffee table, "make a list of stuff you want picked up at the grocery store,"

"Wait, what?"

"Food, hero," civilian deadpanned, "unless you plan on eating all of mine while your here?"

"N-no, of course not! But-"

"Then get to writing," they quipped, before turning and heading to the kitchen.

Despite their confusion, hero did as they were told, writing down a list of things they could think of that didn't take much preparation.

Civilian came back a few minutes later, looking at the hero expectantly.

They stood up off the couch, handing the notepad back to their host, "Please let me pay, for all of my stuff at least-"

"Do you have cash?" Civilian asked as they started typing on their phone yet again.

"Only $20, but I can send you the rest-"

"The twenty is fine," they replied. They weren't giving the hero any sort of link to their accounts. Civilian's eyes finally left their phone screen to begin reading the list. Something in their face seemed to shift as they read the items.

"Is something wrong?" Hero asked nervously.

"We just have a much simmilar palette then I would have expected," they replied, tone a mix of begrudging and in awe.

Hero wanted to ask why, but they bit their tongue, "are we going to go pick this stuff up?"

"No, I'm having a... uhm, *friend* pick it up for me," Civilian replied, snapping a photo of the notepad before dropping it back down on the table.

"So, what are we going to do today then?" Hero questioned.

"Nothing," the other replied, tucking their phone back into their pocket.

"Nothing? What do you mean nothing?"

"As in we aren't doing anything..." Civilian explained in confusion, "I canceled my plans,"

"But..." hero hesitated,"what should I do then?"

The civilian bit back the comment of telling the hero they should leave, if not for it being a waste of breath, then for how genuinely confused the hero sounded, "Uhm... I don't know? Whatever you want? You didn't bring anything with you to keep you occupied?"

Hero looked a bit perplexed, "uhm... no? Should I have?"

"Well... I would have thought so... never mind. It doesn't matter. I'm sure you can find something on TV at least,"

"Oh, yeah okay, sure,"

"Queen," Civilian whistled, "remote,"

Hero watched in wonder as the large white dog ran to grab the remote, bringing it over to the Civilian.

"Good girl," they praised, taking the item from the dogs mouth, "Tell me your favourite channels and I'll find their numbers for you,"

There was a beat of silence. The lack of answer caused the Civilian to glance over at the hero with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"I... I don't know.... I'm not familiar with any of the different channels. I haven't watched anything other then the news in years,"

Civilian's face simply shifted into even more confusion, "uhm.. okay... well you can get youtube on this TV too. Do you watch anything on that?"

"Uhm, no... I don't think so," hero shifted awkwardly, "Maybe you could reccomend something?"

"Uh..." Civilian stuttered, suddenly strangely flattered hero would trust their judgment and taste to make a suggestion.

They cleared their throat. Nothing coming from a hero was any sort of compliment.

There was no way they were going to be sharing their actual preferences with hero!

"Yeah, sure I guess," Civilian shrugged. They'd share shows they thought were okay, but not their favorites. "But what do you even do in your spare time?" They asked as they navigated through the channels on the TV.

"Uh, well," they chuckled dryly, scratching the back of their head, "I don't exactly have a lot of spare time. Evil never rests as they say, and that usually means neither do I,"

Civilian internally rolled their eyes. What a drama queen. There was no way hero wasn't exaggerating. Because sure, this city did have it's fair share of criminals, but there was no way a major crime took place nearly every day. Three times a week, max.

"Plus, if the city holds any big public events, I always need to be there in case a villain decides to show up. That mixed with all the press conferences, fan meet and greets, training, street watch, you know... and any time I have leftover gets used up by finishing all the paperwork the other officers don't get done," the hero gave a forced laugh again, "in fact, I think this morning was the first time I've gotten to sleep-in in..." they blinked, "I can't even remember..."

The hero glanced up, realizing they'd been rambling and were about to apologize but the look on the Civilian's face made them stop.

Civilian was looking at them with an incredulous, shocked expression.

"Of course it's all worth it!" Hero sputtered.

"Sounds like you need to put your foot down" Civilian scoffed, turning back to the tv. So what if they'd been wrong about hero's daily life? Just because they didn't live like royalty? If anything, heros probably deserved to be working so hard, for all the problems they caused, it served them right not to have any free time! If they wanted to throw their life away for some meaningless agency, what did villain care?!

"Maybe you're right, but.... I'm a bit of a people pleaser" hero chuckled again.

Civilian side-eyed them, "you don't say," they scoffed, before carelessly tossing the remote next to the hero on the couch, "Give this channel a try for now. If you don't like it, just change the channel till you find something,"

"W-wait!" Hero sputtered, quickly jumping to their feet.

Civilian's feet regrettably stuttered to a stop. They turned their head, glancing over their shoulder at their unwanted guest.

"What?" They snapped, failing to hide the annoyance in their tone.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room?"

"But... I'm supposed to keep an eye on you? I can't really do that if you're in the other end of the house with the door closed..."

Civilian grumbled. That had been the entire point.

"Fine, I'll work in the kitchen," they amended, before heading to their room to gather a few things.

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

The house had been quiet for the next few hours, the only sound being the soft murmur of the wTV in the other room, when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Hero immediately jumped to their feet.

"Please, let me get it!" Hero asked quickly, coming up behind the Civilian who was about to open the door, "just in case,"

Civilian rolled their eyes, scoffing under their breath, but they didn't argue, stepping aside to let the hero grab the handle.

The door opened to reveal no one, only multiple grocery bags on the front step. The hero poked their head out further, looking around, but they couldn't see anyone.

"Uh..."

The Civilian didn't say anything, instead pushing past them to begin bringing the bags inside. Quickly, the hero scurried to help.

"Was that your friend?"

"No, my groceries just teleported onto my doorstep," Civilian replied sarcastically as they began taking things out and putting them onto the counter.

The hero chuckled humorously, "No, I mean, where did they go? Why did they run off so quickly?"

"Maybe supervillain got them,"

"What?!"

Civilian gave them an incredulous and unimpressed look, "they were *busy* hero," they explained, rolling their eyes.

"Oh, right," Hero replied, clearing their throat awkwardly, "Well, it sure was nice of them to pick up everything for you,"

*that's what they get paid for* civilian thought to themselves.

Once everything was put away, they let out a sigh.

"I need to take Nova and Queen out for a walk. Be ready to go in half an hour," Civilian stated matter-of-factly before disappearing down the hall and into their room.

[bitter-space]

Prompt 9 - Destiny

H: Maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe we are meant to be this way.

V: Why do you say that? Maybe..if we try again-

H: There's no point in trying again! Life is like that, not everything always ends the way we want...

20 years later

The heroine looked at her grandchildren while telling them a story

We were so close and yet so far away . A bit like December and January.

The youngest granddaughter looked at her curiously: and you loved him?

H: I..yes. I loved him. But it didn't go as I hoped.

[bitter-space]

Prompt 8 - Bus 🚍

The hero seeing the Villain waiting at the bus stop approached him

Hero: What are you doing? Why do you look out of breath?

Villain: sigh..What do you think I'm doing? I missed the bus. And now I'm waiting for another one

Hero: Oh my friend! Value yourself!

You didn't miss the bus, the bus missed you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Does that make sense? I don't know.

In my head it made sense I think 😔🫡

[bitter-space]

Prompt 7 - Roles

Villain: you are my Robin

Hero: oh! So you are Ted Mosby?

Villain: ...I was thinking about Batman..but I guess it's better than nothing, right? :')

[bitter-space]

Vacation 🍹

Hero: Do you remember the Caribbean vacation you promised me a month ago?

Villain: I don't remember promising you any Caribbean vacations, darling.

Hero: I'm sure you said if I ever wanted a break from work you'd take me to see the Caribbean.

Villain: ... you mean when I promised you that you could stay with me and watch Pirates of the Caribbean?

Hero: ...oh. Maybe I heard wrong *she says a little blushing*

Villain: If it makes you happy I can really take you to the Caribbean, you know I would do anything for you love

The two lovers spent the evening watching their film and the next day they left for the Caribbean. ⛱️

[bitter-space]

Supervillain, Did your girlfriend leave you that you are so angry? Don't touch our girl 😤

Helo helo, just asking...r u planning to update heroic betrayal? 👁👁 NO RUSH THOUGH IT'S JUST REALLY GOOD AND I CAN'T WAIT SJSJHSHSH

GOOD DAY!!

Heroic Betrayal (X)

Read part one // Continued from here

This part is dedicated to everyone who commented under the last part, that made me cackle like a maniac, and everyone who asked for a continuation of this series that warmed my heart— I’m so sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy <3

*~*~*~*~*

The concrete cut into her cheeks like a sharp edge, her shoulders hitting the walls and her feet tumbling over her head until she crashed and bashed every point in her body on the way down. She ended up on her stomach, blood dripping from the side of her head. She tried to push herself up, but a hand grabbed the back of her neck and dragged her stumbling to her feet.

She felt like she was going to be sick, stuck in a twister of Supervillain’s strong sharp movements that she couldn’t anticipate with her pounding headache raging.

“Now, here we are,” Supervillain said and he shoved Hero forward again. Hero tripped over her feet, their ankle rolling as they tried to stop her momentum in vain. An edge of something metal caught her around the hips and she fell forward, her torso folding with an oomph. A click and the room flooded with light. Hero squeezed her eyes shit, the light burning compared to the pitch black it was not a moment ago.

Hero squinted taking a quick survey of the room, searching for an escape, but no, no, no, no. There would be escape from this room that was just a concrete square of torture devices. Hero’s heart jumped into her throat as she glanced down at the metal bench below her hands. It was a table. A surgical table. Her stomach bottomed out as she gasped involuntary, stepping back and right into a solid chest.

Her blood ran cold and she couldn’t stop the tremors of fear tearing through her. Two strong hands settled on her shoulders and she flinched despite herself, her entire body trembling, her eyes and brain disoriented from the fall and the lack of oxygen and her fucking pounding headache. And she was really starting to wish she didn’t open her mouth.

Hero let out a sharp breath, a claw grabbing at her chest as her eyes scanned the room searching for a window or anything that would tell her she wasn’t underground right now. She couldn’t… couldn’t breathe, oh fuck, there were no windows, there was a window in the cells, she gasped, pushing back against the chest shaking her head.

“Oh that’s right,” Supervillain cooed behind her, his voice painted with sick delight as his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Villain told me you were claustrophobic. Does being underground trigger it, Hero?”

Hero drove their elbow back wildly hitting her mark, but Supervillain didn’t flinch or even grunt. Instead he grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm up and around her back, the other going to the back of her neck and slammed her down against the table.

“You really have no manners, Hero, do you know that?”

“F—fff— fuck you,” she said between fretful breaths. Every action, every movement was lessening and lessening, she only had a little bit of oxygen left in her lungs that was stuttering out. The walls pulsing closer, shrinking and she squeezed her eyes shut. At least the metal of the table was cool under her cheek.

Supervillain pushed her wrist further up her back until Hero was crying out, trying to kick back at Supervillain to get him to stop but the lack of oxygen in her lungs was dizzying as she scrambled. Her brain was fried, and she couldn’t remember any of her combat training as panic seized her throat.

She splayed her fingers, mind reaching, the invisible pull of her blades familiar as they rushed back to her hands. If she could just— two clangs against the door upstairs and Supervillain straightened, letting up some pressure. Hero pulled and pulled, trying to rip the daggers through the obstacle but Supervillain grabbed her splayed fingers and pushed them back down into a fist, smothering her connection to her daggers.

“No!” Hero cried out, struggling furiously under him, kicking back, trying to do anything, get anywhere away away away away from the danger, be able to breathe again properly. Her tears hit the metal table with wet, metallic drops, like a leaky tap dripping into the sink.

“What did I tell you about using your powers, Hero, hmm?”

“Let go of me, you fucking psychopath!” Hero cried, anger flooding her veins. With Supervillain’s hand off her neck, Hero threw herself back with a roar of adrenaline mixed with fury. Supervillain’s grip tightened on her wrist, about to push it up but Hero wedged a knee up between the table and shoved until the pair went stumbling.

Hero slipped free of Supervillain’s hold in his stunned state, but he recovered quickly, grabbing at her hoodie but Hero was too quick, and she was ascending the stairs, her breaths getting heavier but her breathing becoming even the closer she got to the surface.

She got to the door and grabbed the handle and shoved it open.

Only.

It didn’t open.

Hero stared. No. No. No, no, no, nonononono!

NO!

Hero slammed an open palm on the metal, screaming. “FLYNN! FLYNN I’M SORRY PLEASE! Please!”

Footsteps on the staircase. Hero slid down the door, banging weakly against it as Supervillain advanced again.

“Did you really think I’d leave a handle on the way out of this room, Hero?”

Hero swallowed the lump in her throat, focusing all her energy into the glare she shot at him, hoping he would melt right on the spot. Which he didn’t.

“You can come down and your punishment will be less severe than if I have to drag you down.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her voice cracking halfway through. She splayed her fingers again and wished, hoped, prayed that somehow they would get through the thick metal door she was trapped behind.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! What was she going to do? There was only one option for her right now and that was down, down into a tight, underground nightmare that was threatening to kill her. She needed— she needed to be able to breathe to think clearly, but even thinking was difficult at the thought of being dragged back down to Supervillain’s torture chamber.

Supervillain sighed, a few steps away from her. “Okay, Hero. Have it your way.”

He reached down and grabbed her ankle and turned to walk down the stairs. Hero kicked at him, landing a few solid ones on his arm and back before he was dragging her down and Hero’s head smacked off the concrete steps. She didn’t even have time to scream or groan or whine, small gasps at every bounce fogged her vision until she was back on solid ground.

Supervillain appeared above her, grabbing her, one arm under her shoulders, the other her knees as he bent over and scooped her up. She protested weakly, her brain rattled and her reaction time non-existent. Supervillain placed her on something cool under her skin, but she could feel something wet on the back of her head.

She reached a hand up to find the source of the wetness, but Supervillain grabbed her wrist before she could investigate and strapped it down to table in leather. He pulled the cuff tight around Hero’s wrist, so tight she couldn’t move it left or right, just up and down. She whined when he took her other wrist and restrained it the same way by her side. Then he moved onto her ankles and soon Hero couldn’t move an inch, her eyes glazed over and staring blankly above her.

Supervillain grabbed Hero’s cheek, appearing in her scope of vision, but there was two of him now, a shadow or a clone. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hmph, you spoiled some of my fun, Hero. I was hoping to teach you this lesson to remember, but, oh well. I guess I’ll just have to leave a reminder for you when you’re more conscious, won’t I? Something you can’t ignore.”

Hero blinked at him, the entire world moved like cotton and she was completely out of it, Supervillain’s words echoing around her head. On loop over and over again, but still seemingly so far away.

“Lemme go,” she pleaded weakly, pulling at her restraints.

Supervillain smiled a wicked smile down at her. “I’m thinking something like a three strike system, Hero. Like tally marks or something to that effect. Something easy to understand, strike one was your insolence at dinner which will not be tolerated. What to do,” Supervillain mused stepped away from the metal table and out of sight.

Hero pulled against her restraints, trying to loosen them as hot tears ran down her cheeks. Flynn… she thought hopelessly. Please, please, rescue me. Please.

Supervillain returned to the table, a hunting knife in hand. “Wait, no, please.” Hero didn’t even know what she was protesting, but the words fell from her mouth anyways as Supervillain grabbed her right hand.

“Three strikes, Hero. While I know I could cuff you in power dampeners and leave you down here to hyperventilate all night I think this will be far more effective.”

“Tell me Hero,” Supervillain began as he started undoing the cuff of her right wrist. “Is it all knives you can summon with your ability?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Any will do.”

“Fascinating. And do they all sharpen your senses when you feel them in your hand?” Hero glared at him as he free her wrist and turned it so the back of her hand was positioned above the metal table. Hero didn’t bother asking him how he knew that, because she knew the answer he would be all too happy to supply. The reason Supervillain knew everything about her; Flynn told me.

“It depends on the knife,” Hero answered, the pained fog of her mind ebbing and flowing allowing some coherent thoughts to pass through her brain. “None are as good as my blades, but that’s because I made them myself.”

“I will never cease to be awed by adepts and their crafts,” Supervillain said fondly, tracing the tip of the hunting knife up Hero’s elbow and forearm before pinching it down slightly on Hero’s wrist. Hero didn’t dare struggle or move, afraid if she did the knife would slip and she would be dead. “But now that you’re more conscious, I’ll repeat your punishment.”

“We will do a three strike system, this is strike one. With every strike I will leave a wound on you, a scar that will remind you not to make another mistake again, okay?”

Hero shivered at how easy he explained his punishment system for her, as if he was telling her that her car needed an service or one day it would just stop. “Three strikes, and I will drag you along to watch Sidekick being murdered and you’ll know it was all your fault. Okay?”

“You’re a fucking—”

“Wonderful.”

In one quick movement, Supervillain slid Hero’s right hand over the rim of the table and plunged the hunting knife in all the way through her palm. A howling, banshee’s scream tore through Hero’s throat as she bucked against her restraints, howling and screaming: please, please, stop! Stop!

Tears and snot clogged her senses as she shook her head, her arm violently trembling against the trauma and Supervillain’s tight hold. Hero splayed her fingers on her left hand, trying to summon the knife out of her hand, but Supervillain’s grip was too strong, or Hero’s pull was too weak, and he twisted the knife in her hand instead, pulling more shrieking screams of pain from Hero.

“There, now. The first two strikes will be in your palms, Hero. To remind you that even if you try to fight back, with your knives or your words or otherwise, you,” he said, stressing the final words, “will fail.”

Hero sobbed as her fingers tried to curl around the blade but could barely move more than a flinch in any direction. Hero wouldn’t be able to summon her blade for this hand for a while, until the wound healed and even then? Would she get physio for the muscles and tendons Supervillain just cut through with a terrifying amount of strength?

Supervillain put a hand on Hero’s hair, brushing the strands from her face like a parent would a child who’s eating an ice cream and threatening to get their hair stuck in it, chiding but fond.

“This doesn’t have to happen again, Hero. We can be civil with each other. You and Flynn, I know you have a special connection. A bond. You can have a nice life here, free from the burdens of being a hero in this city, of always fighting uphill battles hmm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Hero was shivering, staring up at Supervillain and she knew she probably looked sickly pale and ashen as she felt the blood harden around the blade in her palm, but dripping down to the floor on the other side. She knew it would leave a scar, the reminder that Supervillain wanted her to know in her gut and it made her sick.

“So Hero,” Supervillain beamed, smiling down at her. “Will you behave?”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled as she nodded, warm tears flooding her cheeks as she sniffled. Supervillain’s smile turned softer, comforting, like a concerned parent. “Use your words, Hero.”

Hero sniffed. “Y-yes,” she croaked.

“Yes, what?”

Hero sucked in a breath. “I’ll… I’ll behave.”

Supervillain smiled. “Good. Good. Excellent. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

Supervillain removed her restraints and sat her up on the metal table, and said he’d be a minute getting the things he needed around the room.

Hero sat upright shaking violently and trying to hold her hand steady by supporting it with her free hand at the wrist. She stared blankly ahead, both staring at nothing and staring resolutely at one white painted brick, where the groove was a faded, paler white, less glaring at her while Supervillain gathered supplies.

Before too long Supervillain was in front of her, setting bandages and gauze and rubbing alcohol down on the tray beside the bed. Along with other stuff Hero wouldn’t think was necessary like a ruler and Q-tips and other supplies. He was wearing surgical gloves as well, and despite herself Hero was thinking about what he did for a living.

“Are you a doctor?” She asked, her voice hollow.

Supervillain smiled a secretive smile at the question, as if he just found her out. “Ah. You’ve noticed, have you?”

Every once in a while Hero forgot that Supervillain was her nemesis of the last year, the Moriarty to her Sherlock Holmes, the Joker to her batman, although really more like the Riddler with how elusive he was. When she considered Supervillain’s job back before she knew him, she suspected it would be something as cerebral, like a lawyer, or a judge, or a doctor. She didn’t feel good that she was right.

“Yes, I’ve been a doctor since medschool. Long hours, overworked conditions, but I won’t bore you with hospital tales, snd luckily for you I happen to be an acute trauma surgeon,” he told her, smiling up at her through his lashes. “So your hand won’t have too much lasting damage. I didn’t hit any of the important muscles or tendons.”

Hero gasped, which sounded more like a bewildered laugh, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hissed as Supervillain pressed down on the wound. He smiled. “Sorry, I just have to make sure I didn’t hit anything important. Okay, yes.”

He took a Q-tip from the table and said, “okay, Hero. I need you to remain as still as possible while I do this. Try not to move too suddenly.”

Hero let out a sharp gasp of pain aa Sueprvillain inserted the Q-tip through Hero’s wound until it almost poked out the other side. “You’re doing great Hero.”

But she wasn’t. She was going to be sick as he pulled it out and she saw the blood. The smell had never annoyed her before, but now the metallic kiss hung on the air like a factory that had to suddenly cease operations, a promise of something to come.

He set the Q-tip on the table and measured the blood stain against the ruler. Hero stared down at it, her vision blurring slightly as her mind went woozy and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Supervillain was standing over her hands on her shoulders sitting her back up again. Hero blinked, bile climbing up her throat.

“Here,” Supervillain said and shoved a bar of chocolate into Hero’s hand, the wrapper already opened. Hero blinked at it dumbly, and Supervillain gently guided it to her mouth. Hero took a small bite of the sweet, velvet chocolate. “You fainted. You’re okay. It’s normal with this kind of injury, but I would like you conscious while I tend to it.”

Hero blinked at him and when he was certain she wasn’t going to faint again he released her shoulders and Hero remained upright.

“If you’re a doctor…” Hero said, her head spinning, but she was determined to get this out of her head. “Didn’t you take an oath to do no harm?”

“Ah,” Supervillain smiled. “Yes. The hippocratic oath. I did.”

“Then how can you justify this?” Hero asked, nodding to her hand. Supervillain was silent for a moment, dabbing at the bleeding of the wound, staunching the blood and cleaning around it. His movements were so methodical, so clean and purposeful, Hero found their eyes drawn to it as she took another bite of chocolate.

“Where I stabbed you, Hero, is a very delicate place to be stabbed. There is a flurry of activity in the centre of your palm.” Supervillain squeezed just below the wound and Hero squirmed with a groan. “Here is your carpal ligament that controls the movement of your thumb, index and middle finger.”

He squeezed Hero’s thumb and said: “and here are all the muscles for full use of your thumb. If I went too far to the right I could risk damaging the ligaments that connect to your other two fingers, or hitting a clump of nerves.”

Supervillain dropped Hero’s hand and held up his own, pinching the spot the dagger went through Hero’s palm. “Here, there is a hole in your hand. No bone, no muscle, no nerves or ligaments. Minimal damage and less time for recovery. No need for more than standard hand physio and six weeks at most.”

Supervillain smiled at Hero. “The Hippocratic Oath is an oath all doctors must take to do no harm. However, all doctors must accept that in order to make something better, there must first be pain. To treat the sick they must endure the pain, and fight infection, the body must fight.”

“Your defiance, in the long run, will make you worse than if I curb it now. So I am doing no harm, by ensuring that you quit fighting. The same way I am trying to stop this city from running straight to ruin.”

“I must do no harm,” his smile was warm, “as a doctor. But as a civilian I can’t stand by and watch this city burn. Does that answer your question?”

Hero stared. Then shrugged with their good shoulder. “Not really, but I’m kinda woozy from blood loss right now.”

Supervillain laughed. “Mmm, let’s do something about it.”

Supervillain worked fast, careful to only press too hard when Hero gave him a snarky reply, and later on she would wonder how she got so comfortable with the man bandaging her up being the same man that stabbed her in the first place. She would attribute it to blood loss and Supervillain would bandage her head and help her up the stairs he threw her down before, and when they got into the kitchen he gave her painkillers and water.

Flynn rushed through the doors, his heart racing when he saw Hero. Her head bandaged and her hand bound so tight and thick that Hero couldn’t close her fingers even if she wanted to.

“H-Hero?” He asked, breathless. Hero smiled at him when he came in and waved. Flynn was by her side in a second, while Supervillain stopped chatting to her about reason they chose to replace the black and white tiles for the floor in the kitchen. “Are you okay? Hero, oh—“”

“She’s fine,” Supervillain said lightly. “We’ve cleared the air, haven’t we Hero?”

Hero nodded, smiling at Flynn. Something she’d attribute to her concussion later because everything was just a little too smiley, a little too comfortable, a little too easy, and she wasn’t entirely convinced that Supervillain didn’t give her the floating, high end painkillers.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard the screaming,” Flynn said, his hands going to Hero’s cheeks, checking her over and looking for any sign that she was lying to him. Other than her too large pupils she seemed okay. “I— your daggers— you—”

Hero grabbed Flynn’s hand with her unbandaged one and interlaced their fingers. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tears brimmed on top of Flynn’s bottom eyelids as he looked at Hero, his Hero, be so unlike herself. So compliant and soft. It made him ill, that he was the reason Hero was injured in the first place. That she was being subjected to the whims of his family.

God, he didn’t think Dad would do this…

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Hero asked with wide eyes.

Flynn ran a thumb over her bruised cheek, his touch featherlight. “Of course. Will you give out to me tomorrow about it?”

She shrugged happily. “Probably.”

Flynn laughed, and leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’d love to.”

Flynn helped her stand, and wrapped his fingers around hers keeping her close. “Be sure she doesn’t sleep for the next hour or two.”

“We can watch a movie!” Hero said, her voice light and chirpy, so like it was when she’d get excited before that it made Flynn’s heart ache.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat as he guided her out of the kitchen, away from his father and up the stairs to her room, terrified that if he dropped her hand for even a second he would lose her forever. “We can watch a movie.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @swift-perseides @gloriousqueen101 @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @jumpywhumpywriter @bitter-space @lumpofsand

@xxgalgurlxx @silentpotat0 @ladygwennn @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[bitter-space]

Prompt 6

Chef

Villain: You're a disaster at cooking

Hero: It's not true...my risotto just has... personality, that's all

Villain: It's raw. You took some raw rice from its box and put it on the plate

...

Hero: ..uhm do you want some salt?

[bitter-space]

Power of books

The heroine worked in a bookstore in the city center while she wasn't saving the world. Villain was a regular customer, but every time he came into the library, he pretended to look for books that don't exist just to have an excuse to talk to her.

-----

Villain flipping through a random book looked at the beautiful heroine: "Excuse me, do you have the manual on how to conquer the girl of your dreams... discreetly?"

The heroine looked at him and laughed. "Sorry, it's out of print. But I can recommend a book on how to stop making excuses to talk to the bookseller."

Villain (smiling): "Interesting... I'll only read it if there's an appointment with the author at the end.". (He said with a wink)

The heroine looked at the awkward boy and smiled in love

[bitter-space]

I love that

Heroic betrayal (ix)

Read part one here // Continued from here

THIS SERIES HAS NINE PARTS??!?! IT DOESN’T FEEL THAT LONG, MAYBE FOUR OR FIVE WOW!!!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero woke up buried under extremely heavy sheets. It felt like a net of blankets weighing down on her, like a giant warm hug of safety. The first thing she did when she woke up was nestle deeper into the warmth, letting out a light hum as she did. She was entirely too comfortable, her mind rosey and hazy, exactly how she liked it.

A heartbeat steadily under her ear, warmth radiating off her mattress. The fog in her mind turned thick, impenetrable and she wanted to be sick. The warmth around her clawed at her desperately, trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

She had bolted from the bed, backing up until she hit the wall behind her, before she properly opened her eyes. Her chest heaving with heavy breaths as she glared at the man in her bed.

Flynn peered at her with one eye open, casually throwing an arm under his head to prop himself up. “Mornin’,” he said, his voice low from sleep.

“You fucker,” Hero hissed, her mind flashing back to last night when Supervillain fixed her nose. Flynn had settled her mind for her, leaving her in his artificial weightless-haze. “You said you wouldn’t use your powers on me.”

Flynn shrugged. “I didn’t want you to suffer.”

“No, you didn’t want to see me suffer, and there’s a chasm of a difference between them,” Hero huffed, crossing her arms over the shirt she was wearing. “Then sleeping with me?”

“You never complained before,” Flynn said with a lazy, cocky grin.

“That was before I knew you were a fucking scheming bastard, who,” Hero continued, walking towards her door and opening it. “Coincidentally, has his own room in this hell house. So please, get out.”

Flynn stared at her through half-lidded eyes, two hands behind his head now. Hero hated when he did that. She hated how it exposed his muscles and somehow made him hotter. He knew it too. He knew that she liked it when he reclined like that, because she told him once after a long night.

“I’m comfortable.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I’m a comfortable liar.”

“I hate you,” Hero snapped. The cocky smile dimmed on his face, and she took a little bit of satisfaction at it. Ignoring how it pulled a little on her heartstrings too.

“I know,” he replied softly.

Hero swallowed, lingering by the door, arms folded across her chest. “Were you here all night?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat up.

“Why?”

“Because you said you didn’t want to be alone,” he answered honestly.

Hero scoffed. “No doubt from your loopy induced haze in my head.”

“Despite what you may like to believe,” Flynn said, getting to his feet. He was fully dressed in the shirt and tracksuit he was wearing last night. Decent and gentlemanly. Infuriatingly. “I can’t sway your ideas in your head. If you want me to, I can find a telepath for you to put all your blame on.”

“Oh yeah? And will you kidnap them too?” She snapped, eyes blazing.

Flynn scoffed, grabbing his socks and shoes before walking towards Hero by the door. Hero’s heart beat double-time the closer Flynn got to her, but she maintained her resolve.

That was, until Flynn stopped in the doorway beside her. She shifted her feet under his gaze, feeling his eyes travel over every pore, lingering on every feature, tracing a line down the curve of her neck.

Her breath hitched when he reached forward, a hand cupping her cheek, the heel of his palm tilted her head up. So gentle. Filled with too much everything— Flynn knew her better than anyone, knew what made her tick, what made her nervous, her fears. His touch lit a fire under her skin, but his eyes laid her naked before him, and sent shivers down her spine.

“We could make this so nice,” he whispered like the snake tempting eve in the garden, his thumb running over her bottom lip. “We could go back to the way things were. We were happy.”

How Hero ached for that to be true. How she wanted to abandon her defences, to forget the heartache at his betrayal, and run into his awaiting arms. He could make her forget everything, what he did to Sidekick, what he was doing to her. Hell, he could make her forget that she was ever a Hero and it would be so easy.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she swallowed a sob and covered his hand with hers. “That was before you betrayed me, and everything I thought you were.”

“Hero…”

“How can I believe anything you say? How do I know that you weren’t seducing me as some plan you concocted with your father?” She asked, breathlessly. He dropped his shoes and socks with a clatter to the floor and stepped closer to her, caging her in against the door.

His eyes implored her to trust him, to love him, to believe him. She couldn’t look at the desire in them, so she looked at his lips instead. His soft lips.

“You know what we had was real,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning her face. “Believe in us. Believe in what your heart knows to be true. I love you, Hero.”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled against his touch. She swallowed and turned her head away, pressing her hand against his chest with more restraint than she thought herself capable of.

“Please, Flynn,” she said, her voice soft like the static in the air before a thunderstorm. “Just leave me alone.”

Flynn paused, his touch faltering and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her anyways. Something heartbroken inside her that still loved him told her that he would never do something like that. That there were lines of decency even a traitor wouldn’t cross.

“Fine,” he said, dropping his hand from her face and stepping back, scooping up his discarded shoes and socks. Hero did the right thing. She knows she did the right thing, so why does it feel like something just tore a hole through her chest? “Look, I know we were friends once, maybe more than that, maybe not, but right now Hero? I’m your only friend here. Your only refuge.”

Hero felt as if she had just been slapped. “Is that a threat? Be nice to me or else?”

Flynn had the audacity to look hurt. “No, that’s not—”

“Goodbye, Flynn,” she ground out through clenched teeth, stepping away from the door and grabbing it in her hand, ready to slam it in his face.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “See you later.”

The moment he stepped out of door frame she closed the door and leaned her back against it, sliding down and hugging her knees to her chest. She let the tears fall when she was alone, unaware that on the other side of the door, Flynn was listening to her, a pained expression colouring his features.

*~*~*~*~*

Hours later a knock sounded on her door. Hero ignored it. She watched the door handle open from her bed, her back propped against the headboard, her legs stretched out, crossed over at the ankles a book with its spine broken between her fingers. She inclined her head when the door opened, expecting it to be Flynn but froze when she saw a mess of black hair.

Villain was wearing a red leather jacket, contrasting against his sharp pale features and dark hair, making him seem other worldly. He smirked when he noticed Hero’s tension, he kicked the door open with his foot, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“I’ve been told to call you for dinner.”

“Like the good dog you are.”

“Woof,” Villain replied, a grin that made her skin crawl spreading across his features. “Of course, you hurt Flynn’s feelings so he’s licking his wounds in his room. You get me instead.”

“Yeah, well, I lost my appetite looking at your face.”

Shadow hands sprung from the backboard of the bed and grabbed Hero’s wrists before she realised what was happening. They squeezed, hard, until she dropped the book, shackling her in a ring of icy coldness, that yanked her arms back sharply and pressed them against the headboard. Hero didn’t even struggle and suppressed her whimpers of pain, but it must have shown on her face because Villain’s grin got wider as he stepped into her room.

“I would be nicer to me, Hero.” Villain cautioned, his fingers curling slowly into a fist in his hand, the shadows tightening more until Hero couldn’t keep her cries locked behind her teeth anymore. “We could be friends, like you and Flynn, hmm?”

“Friends don’t hurt each other,” Hero ground out, pulling against the shadows keeping her pinned. With all the effort she put behind it, it only resulted in her muscles shaking in her arms.

“Well, we’re not friends yet, and besides, it’s not hurting each other. I’m just hurting you.”

Hero looked away from Villain, staring pointedly at the wall to her right just to piss him off. Who did he think he was? Another cold hand stroked a finger along her jaw. Hero shivered at the touch, but refused to look at Villain. That’s when she heard footsteps round her bed until she was staring at worn, red leather in front of her.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Villain said, crouching down so he was eye-level with the stubborn Hero. He tilted his head with a smile. “Hmm? You’re stuck here, y’know. Unless you grow a spine and want to kill your friend, in which case, well, you’d belong here.”

“Let me go,” Hero snapped, pulling against the shadows. Villain let out a dark, breathy laugh, standing again as he shook his head. His hand shot out, as cold as his shadows and pinched her chin between his fingers tilting her head up sharply.

“The sooner you learn your place here the better, I mean,” Villain said, sucking in a breath as if it hurt. “Upsetting Flynn? The only person here on your side? Not a smart move, not one I would make. Or Supervillain if he were in your shoes. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be smart? Isn’t that your whole thing? Cause god knows you’re not strong.”

Hero’s lips curled back into a snarl and she shot her leg out. Shadows caught her ankle before it made contact and yanked her down the bed, but the hold on her wrists didn’t budge and so her body was stretched taut, pulled in two directions.

Villain released his grip on her chin when his shadows caught her foot and now he just stood back as she cried out and tried to gain purchase on the bed with her other leg for support.

“You know, it’s not nice to kick people.”

“Get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, Hero. Why? Do you want me to be?” Hero’s breath caught in her throat at the very thinly layered threat in Villain’s voice, and the sick fuck seemed to feed off her panic. “Relax Hero, I’m not that kind of Villain. I won’t touch you until you beg for it.”

His words sent shivers down her spine, and when the shadow on her ankle dissolved Hero quickly pulled it into her chest, retreating up her bed back to where her hands were pinned, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

Villain hummed, then turned and walked towards the door. He lifted his hand and clicked his fingers without looking at her. The shadows dissipated, leaving her wrists red raw but otherwise unharmed. “Come along, Hero. Like I said. Dinner’s ready.”

On the way downstairs, Villain rapped on Flynn’s door and yelled: “grubs up.” Hero didn’t take her glare off of Villain’s back the whole way down her U-shaped stairs to the second floor. It wouldn’t matter either way considering all the shadows he could utilise to torture her, and there was no way she could keep eyes everywhere.

Though when Flynn’s door opened, she paused on the last step of her stairs, watching him as he walked out of his room and shut the door. He didn’t look at her as he followed Villain down the stairs. He may as well have slapped her in the face. Actually, she’d rather he would have slapped her, or looked at her, or even paused when he saw her in the corner of his eye. But he continued through the landing and to the stairs like she wasn’t even there, and Hero swore her heart broke inside her chest all over again.

She followed the brothers down to the dining room in silence. Flynn and Villain were already sitting down at the Supervillain’s side of the table, both on either side of where Supervillain sat. Hero stared at the chair beside Flynn, something urging her to sit beside him, but instead she sat at other opposite head of the table. Yanking her chair out and sitting down.

Why should she be the one who’s suffering or feeling guilty? Flynn should be the one feeling guilty. It was his fault she was here. His fault that she was on Supervillain’s radar in the first place. His fault that Sidekick is in the hospital.

Villain’s cunning eyes went between the pair. “Trouble in paradise, lovebirds?”

“Oh shut up, Vil,” Flynn snapped.

Hero leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her as if she was about to conduct a meeting. She smiled sweetly at Villain, sickeningly sweet. “Yes. No trouble at all, Vil. I wouldn’t touch a villain with a ten foot pole if I could help it, but considering I’m on house arrest with a family of villains, I’ve had to make some concessions.”

Flynn shot her a scathing look, his cocky smirk sliding onto his face. “That’s not what you said when you were cuddling me this morning.”

Villain’s entire face lit up, eyes going between the pair, enjoying the two of them silently fuming at each other. “Damn. You could cut the tension with a knife. Get a room, guys.”

Supervillain stepped through the doors that joined the kitchen to the dining room with two steaming plates. “Dinner’s ready!” He exclaimed happily. Noticing the atmosphere, he raised his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“A lover’s tiff,” Villain answered at the same time that Hero and Flynn bit out: “nothing.”

Supervillain hummed, walking down to Hero and sliding a plate in front of her. It smelled divine, like last time, and Hero’s stomach grumbled at the sight. Two steaks of salmon and green beans and cauliflower. “For your strength,” Supervillain beamed at her, then walked to Villain and served him next.

He disappeared through the doors again. Villain smiled at Flynn. “I got mine first, I’m the favourite.”

“You wish,” Flynn said, folding his arms across his chest. “He serves me last because hr wants to make sure my dinner is still hot.”

Supervillain appeared again and sat at the table beside Flynn, handing him his plate too. “Ah. Bon Appétit.”

They ate in relative silence, Villain or Flynn would say something and they’d start a conversation that would ebb and flow while Hero ate quietly, trying her best not to scoff the whole plate down in seconds, but she didn’t have breakfast or lunch today, so she was starving.

“How’s the nose, Hero?” Supervillain asked.

“It’s fine,” Hero replied coldly, then stiffened, thinking better of disrespecting him and added a quiet, “thank you.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. I actually got you some papers today.”

Hero raised her brows. “Oh.”

“To keep you up on the news,” Supervillain told her, his smile reminiscent of his son’s, though maybe a bit more civil, but no less shark-like and menacing. “Don’t want you completely disconnected from the world.”

Hero pushed at the remains of her dinner with her fork, tightening her grip on the utensil. “You just want to torture me as much as possible, is that it?”

“Torture you? What would be the point? I have you immobilised and incapacitated. I don’t need to torture you any further. I just thought you’d like to know—”

“How the world’s doing outside my fucking prison?” She demanded, raising her gaze to meet Supervillain’s. Supervillain’s smile remained on his face and she wanted nothing more than to climb over the table and slap it off. “No thanks.”

“Things can be pleasant for you here, Hero.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Supervillain tilted his head to the side, steepled his fingers in front of his face. “You didn’t let me finish, Hero. Things can be pleasant for you here, Hero, or—”

Hero felt the cold hands of Villain’s power grab her wrists again and yank them behind the back of her chair, her fork clattering along the floor of the dining room. “We can make it very, very difficult for you if you’d prefer. Which would you rather, now that you’ve tasted the cell and the room?”

“I’d rather you let me go, you fucking dick!” She hissed, trying to yank her hands free, but each time she got an inch her hands were clamped down tighter, almost dragging her over the chair, but she planted her feet on the ground, resolute, and glared at the man. “Stop threatening my friends and give yourself up to the proper authorities while you’re at it! That’s what I’d prefer over this playing house bullshit!”

“Hero,” Flynn cautioned. Hero scoffed. She would have threw her arms up if she could, bordering on hysterical.

“Now you deign to talk to me?” She cried. “Save it!”

She turned her gaze, crueller now, back to Supervillain, adopting a false sense of innocence. “I mean, this isn’t really a proper family, is it? Where’s the mother figure after all?”

Hero only got the briefest of seconds to enjoy Supervillain’s easy smiling expression dipping, turning to cold fury before a shadowed hand grabbed her throat, followed by Villain who grabbed her where the shadow hand did, and slammed her back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethed. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Hero spit at him in reply, cracking a smile despite her face that was steadily changing from red to purple at her oxygen being cut off. It wasn’t a proper glob, more like a spray of saliva, even her fucking spit was limp at her circumstances.

“Villain,” Supervillain said as Hero gasped on air that she wasn’t getting. Hero could barely hear him when he spoke again, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she clung desperately to air. She fell to the ground deadweight, head smacking off the floor but she barely noticed it as she gasped in oxygen like a fish being thrown back into a river.

Her throat screamed at the abuse, screamed at her to stop fucking tempting fate and cruelty of the family of villains but she couldn’t bring herself to care if they killed her or not. It would be preferable, honestly.

But then who would help Sidekick? Her stupid, logical voice chimed in as she pushed herself up by her hands. A pair of tailored trousers met her gaze as she righted herself, she had only begun to tilt her head up, her mind cloudy when she felt a hand lock around her upper arm and drag her to her feet.

She stumbled up, her leg faltering behind and falling again but the grip didn’t loosen and the legs didn’t slow down and Hero was forced to make her legs work after depriving them of oxygen for the last twenty seconds.

“Dad.” Flynn’s voice. “Dad!”

“Enough, Flynn.” They were in the kitchen Hero realised, the wood of the dining room floor replaced with the black tiles. Supervillain was holding her, dragging her to the far side of the kitchen and she had the sense to start digging her heels in when they reached a door she wasn’t familiar with. “We tried it your way, Flynn. Now, we’ll try it Villain’s way and compare notes.”

“Dad, no. Wait!” Flynn cried. Hero turned her head over her shoulder to see Villain’s sharp grin, arms around Flynn to stop him from following Hero and Supervillain wherever they were going. “Dad!”

“Ladies first,” Supervillain said after he opened the door and with a pause, he pressed his hand to Hero’s back and shoved her down the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper r @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @xxgalgurlxx @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @silentpotat0 @swift-perseides s s @gloriousqueen101 @ladygwennn @books-are-everything @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[bitter-space]

Short Prompt #1372

“Consider this—”

“No,” Hero immediately interrupted, sulking in their cage.

“But consider,” the villain pressed, “the things that we could achieve together! If only you’d abandon your ridiculous morals…”

[bitter-space]

Beautiful.

Sketching my oc villain vs hero

[bitter-space]

“I’ll admit,” the villain whispered, their hand slowly sliding along the hero’s leg - from their knee to their thigh to be precise - “I’m a bit rusty.”

“You?” the hero asked.

“We haven’t seen each other in six months,” the villain said. “That’s enough time to rust.”

“I thought you would have gotten your fun elsewhere.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Softly, the villain pressed a kiss to the hero’s throat and the hero (stupidly so) forgot their responsibilities very quickly again.

The hero didn’t consider themselves particularly greedy in bed. They took what partners threw at them and usually, that was enough. With the villain, it felt different. They felt more confident, they felt terribly secure. The hero wasn’t a passive party anymore.

“Six months are enough to move on,” the hero whispered.

Their stomach dropped when they realised that the villain was giving them a hickey. Instinctively, the hero grabbed their enemy’s clothes but only got a hold of one of the bullet proof vest’s straps. Though the hero tried to pull them closer, the villain didn’t move until they were done on the hero’s throat.

With a wet sound, they parted.

“You’ll understand how desperate I am right now, then.”

“Is it smart to continue this?” the hero asked. Six months. Six. Often, their thoughts would circle around the villain. As if they were an addict.

“…do you want to continue this?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Again, they leaned in and this time, they left a trail of kisses on the hero’s neck.

Within milliseconds, shivers ran down the hero’s spine and their brain fried. Their heart was loud enough for both to hear.

“I don’t know…maybe something changed, maybe you changed.” The villain looked at them, their usually focused and serious eyes suddenly soft.

“Love, what are you talking about?”

“Maybe there is someone else you…” The hero took in a deep breath. Six months were a long, long time and if the villain had found someone else during that time…someone who was simply more fitting, the hero didn’t want to stand between them. The villain was charismatic, chatty, nice when they had to be. Surely there had been someone who had shown interest while the villain was in hiding.

“You’re aware I am extremely picky when it comes to my partner.”

“Yes, I know. But—”

“And stupidly loyal.”

The hero didn’t know what to say to that. They knew what loyalty meant to the villain. It wasn’t a term they used carelessly.

“Don’t worry,” the villain murmured. They pressed an innocent kiss to the hero’s lips and continued with another one that was a little more daring.

The hero had almost forgotten what it felt like to be kissed. What it felt like to have the villain’s tongue in their mouth.

Even as the villain pulled away, the hero couldn’t form a single coherent thought.

“You’re my nemesis,” the villain reminded them. Two of their fingers traced an invisible path down the hero’s chest. “You’re irreplaceable.”

The villain was methodical. They were gentle. Their hand stopped on the hero’s lower stomach.

“And now, be a darling and spread your legs. I’ve been craving the sounds you make for half a year.”

[bitter-space]

I imagine a hero and a villain who are like the two of them. That they are different but at the same time there is a great friendship

Joey as a hero, a kind, charming and a little naive person but at the same time he knows that there is a limit and would do anything for his friends.

Chandler as in villain, not a bad person but more like a serious and a bit melancholic person. A very intelligent and ironic person that makes a lot of jokes because he feels uncomfortable.

PS: I love friends! I think it's my favorite TV series and I still haven't gotten over saying goodbye to Matthew. A very good person who unfortunately had to fight with a lot, we will always remember you!

[bitter-space]

A hero who has always been a sunny and cheerful person but someone put a spell on her making her a worse person than the villain

The villain who misses the hero and hopes that there is a spark left of the person she once was

[bitter-space]

Prompt 5

Talk

Hero: I have an idea! Kiss me and tell me that you have always loved me and that you could not live without me

Villain sidekick: oh..uhm! No? Why should I?

Hero: Your "boss", lately he's been ignoring me!

And I'm very annoyed ! Ugh

Villain sidekick: Couldn't you, like, talk with him?

Hero:

...

Stop making things difficult for me!