mymusehatesme

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 9

A/N: …I have no note today, except to say that I didn’t have it in me to edit this part either😂

Warnings: Reference to stalking, fear, anxiety, worry, suspected betrayal, blizzard

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“Thanks,” Hero said, “I really appreciate it, Handler.”

“Yeah, well this might be the best opportunity any of us have managed to grasp yet,” they said, handing them the approval that would let them adopt Civilian’s case as theirs. “If you actually manage to get close to Supervillain and get the evidence we need to bring them down, we’d be killing two birds with one stone! Help the civilian, stop the villain, the news article’s practically writing itself now.”

Hero hummed, shifting on their feet. “We’ll see about it. I’m not so sure I’ll even see Supervillain in person, and even if I did, would I know their face? There’s still nothing to say that this all isn’t some half-cocked scheme to distract us from their real plans.”

Handler waved their hand dismissively. “It’s still a better shot than any of us have managed before. And, even if it yields nothing, at least Civilian Surname won’t be indebted to a supervillain for saving their life.”

Hero had to admit that was a good point. Too many times villains saved people for a price, but it was always the civilian who got caught or ended up dead. They’d spent a good deal of time wondering if Supervillain had backed Civilian Surname into a corner, or if Civilian was even aware of the danger they were in. They kept replaying the conversation they’d had with Supervillain the night before. Over and over again they dissected it for the hint of a threat, for a vulnerability, for something. Over and over again, Hero was left with nothing. It seemed as though their plain conversation was as plain and bare as the snow collecting outside. There wasn’t anything more to it than that. Snow was snow, and their conversation with Supervillain hadn’t had any deeper meaning or hidden message. It was simply a bargain for aid, and not even one that had left Supervillain promising Hero a favor in exchange.

Hero could’ve smacked themselves now that they’d had time to reflect on the odd phone call. They should’ve pressed Supervillain harder, forced them into a corner for a change. What made it even worse was the fact that Hero knew exactly what they’d want from Supervillain too: everything they had on them gone. Deleted. Forgotten.

They couldn’t even begin to image the data Supervillain and their team had amassed on so many supers, but Hero dreaded what the master criminal might have on them. The possibilities weren’t great, though. If Supervillain knew…Hero shook their head. They had a case. They had a civilian to save, and city to manage now that the blizzard was picking up in force.

Shoving the file under their coat, Hero zipped the parka up and braced themselves as they forced the Agency’s front door open and battled against the wind for every step they took from then on.

At least they could tell Detective they’d adopted the case and see if they’d like to work on it together. They’d try the Clerk’s Office first, but they new City Hall was closed, and with it the public records. So for now, all Hero could do was hunker down and peruse the case file until they were needed elsewhere—and hope that their little arrangement with Supervillain didn’t upend their entire life.

***

Civilian begrudgingly pulled themselves from the cooling water and wrapped themselves in an oversized towel that was as soft as a cloud. They had half a mind to stay like that forever, but knew they couldn’t, not with the way their toes wiggled against the cold tile floor of Supervillain’s bathroom. Quickly drying off, they pulled on the clean clothes Supervillain had left for them on the counter before they’d left them in peace.

Maybe they should’ve used this time to really think about all that had happened to them, but the moment they sank into that warm water and let their head fall back against the edge of the soaker tub, Civilian was lucky they hadn’t fallen asleep again. For the first time in weeks, their mind was utterly silent. The worried whispers, the tendrils of fear, the anxiety that wove its way from the shadowy corners of their mind had finally vanished. They didn’t have it in themselves to pull their mind from that peace, even they really needed to consider what they knew of Supervillain and their team, and whether or not they could really trust the help they offered.

Civilian wasn’t good with faces, but they felt as confident as they could that they’d never seen Supervillain or Medic before. Frowning as they rolled the sleeves of the too-big shirt up so they could actually use their hands, Civilian found themselves wondering instead if they’d ever know peace again.

The concern shook them to their core.

How could they ever regain a normal life after this? How could they ever really be sure they caught their stalker, and not some innocent bystander?

Civilian wondered if Supervillain would mind them taking another bath, wondering if a second would banish their new fears just as well as the first had done to their previous worries.

Sighing heavily, Civilian took one last glance in the mirror before reaching for the bathroom door. As much as they’d love to hide away for the rest of their life, they knew it wasn’t any use. Hiding didn’t do anything but prolong the inevitable, and they’d rather face it with someone by their side than alone…even if it meant trusting a perfect stranger with an inexplicable background.

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit @classicplesiosaur @pigeonwhumps @heninthegarden @kaiwewi @korejon @rivalriotrenegade @alpacamelons @averyconfusedhuman @amerementdoux @istealpants @sweetpeaflower01 Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too! A/N 2: I've been experiencing some trouble tagging people, so please bear with me while I think of a solution! I might make a sideblog specifically to reblog my writing to so people can turn on notifications without getting flooded by every single thing I post/reblog🤔

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 8

A/N: No editing, we die like men😅

Warnings: threats (mostly in jest), reference to stalking/being stalked, anxiety, medical scenario, reference to past injury, reference to past near-death experience, fear, fear of being stalked

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“…ould we wake them?” A low voice slowly drew Supervillain from their slumber. Buoying between sleep and wakefulness, Supervillain managed to gather their wits before they moved, realizing the weight pressing against their one side as a person slumped against them.

Their eyes slid toward the sound the voice had come from, their ears pricking at the whispered reply of uncertainty.

“I would advise against that if you value your lives,” Supervillain hissed under their breath, finally finding Medic and Right Hand in the darkened living room. As the pair gaped at them, Supervillain turned their attention to slowly disengaging themselves from Civilian’s sleeping form, praying they wouldn’t wake as they managed to maneuver away from them and set a pillow under them in their place.

Stepping away from the makeshift bed, Supervillain’s gaze lingered a moment longer than they should’ve allowed just to be sure that Civilian hadn’t woken. Satisfied they’d managed to escape without waking them, Supervillain turned to motion for their associates to follow them.

Right Hand’s eyes held a teasing glimmer that made their blood boil. They met their gaze with a hard glare. Clenching their jaw, Supervillain ignored them and strode past them both toward the hallway.

Once they were all safely out in the frigid hallway and the door to their private quarters shut firmly to ensure Civilian didn’t hear them, Supervillain grumbled, “Not a word to anyone, or I’ll kill you both.”

“Hey, say no more,” Right Hand said, an amused lilt to their voice, “but before I let this go, I just have to ask, you couldn’t get away before?”

Supervillain sighed. Exasperation eased the tension from their shoulders. “I couldn’t. Civilian is like a cat, I couldn’t just push them off.”

Medic hummed. “Tell that to your heart rate.”

“Did you two come here just to gamble with your lives, or do you actually have something of importance needing my attention?” Supervillain crossed their arms over their chest and morphed their appearance in what many considered to be their true face: a pinched face that wasn’t altogether unpleasing to look at but also not conventionally handsome. It seemed to unsettle people, and that’s what Supervillain liked about it. It put people on edge until they decided whether or not he was too seedy to be around or somehow beautiful enough to fall for their rouse.

But in reality, they knew Right Hand hated watching them shapeshift. Medic didn’t seemed too fazed by it anymore, but even they got the message.

Barely meeting their gaze, Right Hand offered them a thin file folder. “This is a short-list of any supers who might could use their abilities to stalk someone, as well as some suspected stalkers in Civilian’s area the police couldn’t never quite prove without a doubt were guilty, barely finding circumstantial evidence against them.”

Supervillain accepted the file, slightly disheartened at how thin it was. But then again, maybe that was a blessing in and of itself. Now they only had handful of suspects instead of a whole pool. If they could prove a link between any of these supers and Civilian, they’d have found their stalker and could take care of it.

They flipped through the file, scanning the pages of the profiles Right Hand had pulled containing information like the supers’ civilian name, their hero or villain name if they had one, their powers, and any other information they’d gathered on them. As they did, they stopped on a page and gave it a hard look, their eyebrow arching.

“Why is Mirth included on here?” Annoyance flared in their bloodstream.

Medic snickered, “Probably cause Right Hand fancies her.”

“Uh-huh, but that still doesn’t answer my question, now does it?”

“It sort of does,” Medic mumbled at the same time as Right Hand stuttered, “Well, she does have powers that would aid in—”

Supervillain cut them off with a shake of their head. They snapped the file closed and pinched the bridge of their nose with their free hand. “That might be true but do you honestly believe that Mirth of all heroes capable of stalking someone and sending threatening messages?”

Medic and Right Hand shared a glance.

“When you put it like that,” Right Hand said slowly, “no, but I figured after what she did to Other Supervillain, maybe she was worth considering.”

“She operated halfway across the country.”

Medic raised their hands like they were surrendering. “I tried to tell them but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Right,” Supervillain drawled, opening the file once more and plucking Mirth’s profile and handing it back to Right Hand. “In any case, this is a good start. Have you found out anything about Civilian’s connections and if their stalker is someone they do know?”

“I’m still looking into it and cross-referencing what I’ve found with our data and anything I can hack into, but so far nothing. Civilian’s associates all check out.”

Supervillain sagged with relief. Catching themselves, they straightened and cleared their throat. “Report to me immediately if you find anything. I’ll get this to my contact in the city.”

“Oh? And who might that be?” Right Hand’s brows raised.

“None of your concern. I made a bargain and that’s all you need to know at the moment.”

Medic kicked Right Hand in the shin before they could say anything more. “All right then. I’ll be back in the morning to check on Civilian. In the meantime, I’ll keep Right Hand out of trouble.”

“And you’re doing a great job of it,” Supervillain said dryly, not bothering to keep their voice down. How these two had become their closest confidants they’ll never wholly understand. Shaking their head, Supervillain took a step toward their chamber door, glad for the second alone. Their body flushed with heat. Their skin crawled, stretching and pulling and shrinking back into place as they shifted back into the image Civilian knew them as. Already their mind was thinking of a plan to catch their stalker, regardless of what their intelligence gathering could grant them. But first, they needed a shower and some breakfast, some time to clear their head before Civilian inevitably woke up and needed to be looked after.

***

Civilian stretched, not bothering to open their eyes. Wood smoke tickled their nose. A fire crackled somewhere close to them. By all means, between the atmosphere beyond their closed eyes and the warmth surrounding them, it was the most at peace they’d felt in days even accounting for the ache that blanketed their whole body.

Slowly, they willed their eyes to peel open and stay open. Civilian frowned. Their addled mind couldn’t place the wood paneled wall or the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. Neither could they remember ever owning a fur blanket—or so many blankets—and they certainly didn’t think they’d sleep anywhere but their bed.

Sitting up, Civilian glanced around, their eyes lingering on each little detail as they tried to wipe the cobwebs from their mind.

A spark shuddered through them. Supervillain. The storm. The old ski lodge.

Groaning, Civilian sank back into the bed of blankets and furs, pulling a blanket over their head and curling up. They just wanted a moment. Or better yet, a complete break from reality. Just for a little while, they silently pleaded with whatever universal powers would listen and take pity on them.

Soft footsteps reached their ears, as did the slight creak of the floorboards. Willing themselves to peel the blanket away from their face and peek out at the world to see who was coming, Civilian was immediately met with the curious gaze of Supervillain.

“Good morning?” they said, their lips quirked in a bemused smile.

Despite themselves, Civilian groaned and brought the blanket back up over their head, praying that Supervillain would just leave them alone.

“Ah, so it’s that kind of day. Well, I was just about to make breakfast and I expect Medic will be around shortly to check in on you. You’re welcome to pretend you don’t exist if that’s what you want. I, on the other hand, will be making waffles.”

Civilian bit their lip, tempted by the promise of food but not entirely willing to leave their cocoon. Hesitantly, they asked, “Do I have to get up?”

Supervillain’s chuckle was like thunder to their ears. “Not if you don’t want to. I’ll bring you a plate when they’re ready.”

“Thank you.” Civilian turned their face into the soft bedroll beneath them as though it could swallow them whole and actually hide them from the world, but alas, it left them alone and feeling utterly exposed.

Supervillain hummed in acknowledgement but remained silent. The only other indication of their presence was the soft footsteps that faded away toward where Civilian had gathered the kitchen was.

A burst of static turned Civilian’s heart beat into a frenzy. And then it was gone and the room was silent again except for the frantic beating of Civilian’s heart between their ears.

“Damn,” they heard Supervillain mutter. A little louder they said, “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I’d left the radio on so loud, or that the storm had knocked out the weather station. The blizzard’s stopped though, so as soon as Medic says you’re fit to travel, we could probably take the snow mobiles back to your retreat here on the mountain. That is if you want to.”

Civilian took a long breath in through their nose. Realizing there was no sense in outrunning the day, they sat up and let the blanket fall to their lap. “And what about my stalker? Are…Does your offer to help still stand?”

“My team and I already compiled a list of supers who possess powers that could definitely lend themselves to being a difficult stalker to catch. I haven’t heard from my…associate in the city yet. I imagine they have their hands full with the blizzard now.”

Civilian nodded. Drawing their legs up to their chest, they threaded their fingers through their hair and meant to let their head rest in the hand. They quickly pulled their hand away from their hair in disgust. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d washed their hair, but they definitely needed to today.

A distant knock and the subsequent pause in Supervillain’s preparation of the waffles broke them from their pining after a shower and a fresh set of clothes.

“And that’s probably Medic now,” Supervillain sighed.

Sure enough, a moment later Civilian was greeted by the person who’d woke them from their fitful slumber last night or yesterday.

“Hello again,” they said, offering them a soft smile. “I’m Medic, though you probably already know that. Sorry about yesterday, I didn’t mean to startle you. Is it okay if I come a little closer?”

Civilian nodded, watching their slow movements as Medic set their medical bag on the edge of the bed beside them and came to stand before them.

“So, how are you feeling?” they asked.

“Okay…” Civilian said, still watching them warily.

Medic nodded. Civilian expected some form of condescension to mar their features or crinkle their eyes, but Medic remained completely calm and open. “Any aches or pain anywhere?”

“Yeah. My entire body aches.”

“Do you still feel cold?”

“Uh,” Civilian paused, considering the question for a second before they answer. “No, not anymore.”

“That’s great,” Medic beamed. “All right then the only left to do is check your vitals and then I’ll be out of your hair. Is that okay with you.”

Civilian nodded, a little more at ease than they were previously. Maybe they shouldn’t have been but Medic didn’t seem to have a threatening bone in their body—and the aroma of waffles wafting through the room was starting to make Civilian’s mouth water.

Medic walked them through everything they did before bringing out their instruments, something Civilian was grateful for and suspected Medic did on purpose so they wouldn’t startle them. After listening to their lungs and checking their eyes, Medic placed the blood pressure cuff on them and inflated it.

After a moment, they removed it and packed everything away.

“So your blood pressure is a little elevated, though nothing to be concerned about given the circumstances.” They tilted their head, frowning. “You don’t have a history of high blood pressure, do you?”

Civilian shook their head.

Medic nodded slowly. “Then it’s definitely just a result of recent stress factors. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No…wait,” Civilian started, “can I take a shower?”

Medic shrugged. “If you’re up for it, I don’t see why not. Try not to make it too hot though. Your body temperature is stable, but I wouldn’t want you to shock your system again so soon after your prolonged exposure to the cold.”

“Okay.”

With a word of goodbye, Medic left and Supervillain soon took their place, a plate of waffles in their hand.

“There’s more in the kitchen if you want some,” they offered.

“Thanks,” Civilian said, eagerly accepting the warm plate.

“When you’re done, I’ll show you to the bathroom. It’s adjoined to my bedroom so…” Supervillain trailed off. Their gaze dropped to their feet. “We’re still working on getting the power restored to the main parts of the building, so unless you want to brave the frigid hallways, the en suite’s the closest one to us.”

Civilian bobbed their head. “That’s fine. I mean, I don’t want to impose, or impose anymore than I already have, I just want to—”

“It’s fine, and you’re really not imposing,” Supervillain assured them softly. “I’ll try and find some fresh clothes that’ll fit you in the meantime.”

Civilian nodded, watching them as they walked off down the hallway that would inevitably lead to their bedroom. More and more, they didn’t know what to think of their savior or what their motivations might be. But at least there was one thing they were certain of: they were really good at making waffles and pancakes, so even if they were their stalker, at least Civilian had gotten something good out of the whole situation.

Not all they had to do was figure out how to leave this place, and just who they could trust if not Supervillain and their team.

Their waffles provided them no insight other than the comfort of a happy appetite. By the time they’d finished, Supervillain was back and informed them that they’d left a change of clothes in the bathroom for them for when they wanted them. With no time like the present, Civilian begrudgingly stood from the bed on weak legs. Carefully wrapping a blanket around themselves like it could shield them, Civilian trailed after Supervillain as they led the way to most luxurious bathroom they’d ever seen. Civilian greedily eyed the free standing soaker tub, realizing that maybe a good soak would do them a world of good that a shower just couldn’t possibly do.

Supervillain left, and for the first time in days, Civilian felt as though they were truly alone.

The feeling didn’t stop them for searching as much of the bathroom as they could reach for any signs of cameras though. They doubted the paranoia of being stalked would ever leave them, but for one fleeting moment as they lowered themselves into the warm water of the tub, they thought maybe in time, they’d overcome it.

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit @classicplesiosaur @pigeonwhumps @heninthegarden @kaiwewi @korejon @rivalriotrenegade @alpacamelons @averyconfusedhuman @amerementdoux Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

Part 9

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 7

A/N: I totally didn’t have to reread this series to remember where I was going with this or with the desperate hope I left clues for myself to jog my memory. Nope definitely not😅 Also, SORRY IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE MY LAST UPDATE💜

Warnings: swearing, inferences to flirting, reference to a near-death experience (freezing to death), reference to stalking/being stalked, teasing (or bullying depending on how you look at it. Imma call it ‘banter amongst enemies’), manipulative/power-play dynamics, minor self-depreciation

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Hero cursed the buzzing phone on their nightstand. With the blizzard coming down from the mountains, they knew it was going to be a long couple of days until the snow cleared and had been trying to get some sleep while they could, but alas, the universe had other plans for them. Barely awake, they slapped their hand down on their nightstand, grumbling to themselves as they patted around the hard surface for their phone.

Finding it, they blindly accepted the call and brought it to their ear, tucking themselves back into the warm cocoon of their blankets where they had shifted in their attempt to grab the wretched device.

“Hello,” they mumbled.

“I need a favor.” Hero’s eyes opened slowly at the quiet but commanding voice on the other end of the line. Brows furrowed, Hero debated whether or not they should hang up on the master criminal bold enough to call them personally.

“No, now goodni—”

“It involves a civilian, and I can’t help them.”

Hero hummed. Taking a deep breath, they forced themselves into a sitting position. Bringing their knees to their chest, Hero smirked. “Oh? What, did someone worse than you capture your lover or something and now you’re forced to come begging to me for hel—”

“No. It’s much simpler than that. The blizzard blew a civilian off-course and they ended up half-freezing to death before my henchmen found them on a patrol.”

Hero blew out a breath. Of course. Supervillain didn’t have it in them to love someone, obviously. “And now you’re holding them hostage until I do something for you. Look, I’d love to play your little game, but that blizzard’s coming my way next and I’d rather get some sleep than fall into your trap. Try Superhero instead. They’ve been rather bored lately.”

“For the love of god, you cynical bastard, listen. This civilian is being stalked and I think it’s a super behind it. That’s why they’re on this mountain at all.”

Hero paused as Supervillain’s words sank into their half-conscious mind. They blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Supervillain’s voice held an edge to it Hero hadn’t heard in a long time. “Here’s what I’m asking you for: poke around, see what you can find. My team and I can’t do anything until the roads clear, so I need you to be—”

“I’m not your sidekick, Supervillain,” Hero rolled their eyes, “Or one of your henchmen. You can’t order me around—”

“So you won’t help?”

Hero pinched the bridge of their nose. “I didn’t say that.”

At Hero’s words, there was a beat of silence before Supervillain said, “Thank you.”

Hero’s smirk returned. That was a first, for sure. Just who was this civilian, and what did they mean to Supervillain?

A long sigh sounded in their ear. “I can hear you thinking all the way over here. Don’t give yourself a headache, Hero. I actually need you to be useful.”

“I’ll help,” Hero said slowly, “but only if you answer one question: who’s the civilian?”

A second ticked by before Supervillain responded as if through clenched teeth. “Civilian Surname.”

Hero sagged in disappointment. The name didn’t ring any bells in their mind. “And here I was hoping for something scandalous, like a reporter or someone of note. So who are they to you?”

“A frightened mouse,” Supervillain sighed heavily. Hero narrowed their eyes in suspicion, dissecting what the master criminal had said for any hidden meaning, for a telling inflection in their voice, but their examination yielded them nothing. “I can’t even keep them calm. They’re terrified.”

“Well, yeah, being around an imposing, shapeshifting murderer will do that.” Hero leaned back against the wall at the head of their bed. “Though I suppose if they’re being stalked that wouldn’t help them any either. All right, I’ll start looking into it.”

“I’ll be in touch then.”

Hero didn’t even have time to respond before Supervillain disconnected the call. They were hoping to get another “thank you” out of them, but they supposed that was a once in a lifetime deal. Just who was Civilian Surname that their mere presence in the master criminal’s life had them asking for help? Supervillain was cunning, capable, but most of all, they were resourceful. They had a reach and influence no other villain had, and it plagued the caped community to no end, no matter the side you were on. Every one wanted to know how they did, and in Hero’s case, they wanted to bring them down. The information Supervillain was privy to, or allegedly privy to, was too dangerous for one single person to have—or for anyone to have at all.

And, the mere existence of such a compilation of data, shook them to their very core. If Supervillain knew where to look to get things like their phone number, what else did they know? And what were they doing with it? Were they selling parcels of information to other villains? Or were they taking their enemies down one by one just like they did with Other Superhero?

Hero shook their head. They didn’t have any answers to any of their questions, just as they hadn’t the slightest clue who Civilian Surname was. But they’d said they would help. Why they’d agreed, they didn’t know. They could’ve easily told Supervillain to piss off and poked around in secret, for Civilian’s sake, but instead they’d verbally agreed to help Supervillain.

Cursing themselves, Hero ran a hand through their hair. Sucking in a breath, they picked up their phone and tapped the shortcut they were looking for. The call barely rang before it was picked up, bringing a slight smile to their face as the familiar voice greeted them.

“It’s four in the morning, what do you want?”

“Good morning to you too, Detective. I miss you too, the weather’s been absolutely dreadful, hasn’t—”

“Hero, please,” Detective begged, their voice sounding utterly exhausted. A pang of guilt wormed its way through Hero’s heart. “I have three hours left of this god-awful shift, so please just get to the point.”

“Right, sorry,” Hero said sheepishly. “I got a call just now asking me to look into a stalker case?”

“That’s not my department.”

“I know, but I like working with you. Other Detective is such a—”

“Hero, the point,” Detective interrupted again.

“Right, the point,” Hero smiled softly. “I don’t know if they’ve filed a report or not, but could you check for anything involving a Civilian Surname for me? I mean anything, not just the stalker report.”

Detective sighed. Hero squeezed their eyes shut, knowing the reproach they were about to receive. “You know I can’t do that without cause. It’s unlawful. The best I can do is get you a copy of the report if you want to formerly adopt the case under Clause 71.”

“All right, fine, I’ll do that.” Hero tilted their head back. “I’ll file the paperwork as soon as the office opens. But, can you at least tell me if Civilian Surname rings any bells for you? You’ve been on the beat for a long time, so maybe you’ve had a run-in with them or there’s something that comes to mind about them.”

Hero counted their heartbeats in the silence that followed their question. They tapped their fingers against their thigh as they waited, knowing Detective was giving their question a careful consideration they gave to all their work.

“No,” they said at last. “I can’t think of anything. Maybe you should try public records just in case there’s something I don’t know about. It might not yield anything useful, but it’s something.”

“Ah, well if the paperwork goes through…” Hero trailed off, a mischievous smile playing at their lips.

Detective let out a soft laugh on the other end of the phone. “Yes, if the paperwork goes through, then I can look up Civilian Surname in our database, but you better have a cause for me!”

“Would a suspected association with a known criminal count?”

A pause. “What?”

“Would a suspected—”

“No I heard you, I just don’t know if I believe you. I thought you were asking about a stalker case?”

“I am, but the call I got…” Hero hesitated. They knew they could trust Detective, but how far did that really go? “It was from a less than reputable party, let’s say.”

“Hero,” Detective started, “are you mixed up in something?”

Hero turned the question around in their head for a moment before they answered honestly. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Good. I can’t lose my job, you know that.”

Another pang of guilt struck their heart. “I do. I’ll call my handler and tell them the whole thing before I file the paperwork.”

“Good. Well, if that’s all…I gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Hero said. “I should too. This blizzard looks like it’s going to be a bad one.”

“Speak for yourself, it might give me an easy day.”

Hero chuckled, “Goodnight, Detective.”

“Good morning, Hero.”

Hero disconnected the call, smiling like an idiot. It was always a pleasure conversing with Detective, though there were many reasons for that aside from their not-so-secret feelings for them. For one, Detective didn’t get all star-struck working with heroes, and secondly, they didn’t care that they had a dark sense of humor, and in fact, Hero preened, they seemed to like it as they’d often caught Detective hiding their smirks and laughter whenever Hero said something off-color at a crime scene they were working together.

They only hoped doing this favor for Supervillain—and actually agreeing to it—didn’t cost them both their jobs and their reputations.

At least there wasn’t anything in writing, Hero thought to themselves as their smile fell. Slipping back beneath the covers, Hero draped their arm over their eyes, knowing the premise of actually sleeping was long-gone at this point. Their mind was consumed by the events of the last several minutes. They might as well be Supervillain’s lackey now with how easily—and foolishly—they’d agreed to help them figure out Civilian Surname’s stalker problem.

But at least they had a plan, and a way to cover their tracks and make this whole ordeal a little more by-the-book.

First, they’d adopt the case and call their handler. Then they’d look into Civilian Surname, and finally, they’d take the case seriously and root out their stalker, if one even existed in the first place and this wasn’t some grand scheme of Supervillain’s to distract them while they did something truly destructive.

Hero grumbled under their breath. “You damn idiot.”

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @heninthegarden, @kaiwewi, @korejon, @rivalriotrenegade, @alpacamelons Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 6

A/N: I think it’s safe to say that whenever I write in food scenes, it’s because I’m either hungry or thinking about the food I’m planning on eating later😂 I’m pretty sure that’s an occupational habit. Speaking of habits, I’M SORRY FOR SO MANY CLIFFHANGERS IN THIS but I don’t know where this is going or who the stalker is so there’s going to be some plot development while I figure some things out and start to grow our cast😉

Warnings: references to stalking/being stalked, obsession, possessiveness, creepy behavior, sexual implications/suggestive themes (not between the characters, just from the referenced stalking), reference to unwanted advances, allusion to panic attack, anxiety, and panic

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series | Content Warnings on this Blog

Supervillain eased back into their chair, attentively listening as Civilian explained how they knew they were being stalked. At first, they’d said, they thought it was a joke. It all started with letters, things that their friends would easily have been aware of.

But then the photos had started to come with them. Pictures of them in places where their friends weren’t. Pictures of them when they were alone, of walking to their car after volunteering at the animal shelter, of entering the grocery store on a rainy day.

And then the letters grew more intimidating, more obsessive.

“They weren’t just watching me anymore,” Civilian said, their voice tense. “They were starting to…suggest things like what clothes I looked best in or that I should wear my hair in a certain way because it framed my face better.” Civilian paused, glancing down at their lap and frowning, their brows drawn.

Supervillain studied them, shifting uncomfortably in their seat. “It wasn’t just suggestions, was it?”

Civilian shook their head.

“Have you gone to the police?” they asked quietly, setting aside their empty mug and leaning forward.

“Yeah…” Civilian said quietly. “There’s not much they can do. We don’t have any leads, so all they can do is send extra patrols by my house and investigate the letters.”

Supervillain nodded slowly. “And you really don’t have any idea who could be sending the letters?”

“No.”

Fifteen letters, six photographs, three-week timeframe, and yet there weren’t any leads. Supervillain turned Civilian’s explanation around in their head for a moment. Whoever was stalking them had definitely been watching them for far longer than they’d been sending the letters. They knew Civilian’s habits, knew their attire, and had certainly been close enough to them to see their face countless times. But they’d either stayed far enough away for Civilian to have gone unnoticed or Civilian just wasn’t that observant—that is, they weren’t that observant until they’d realized what sort of danger they were in. And now they were paranoid.

“Civilian,” Supervillain started, “why did you choose to come here?”

“I thought I would be safe,” they mumbled, drawing their knees to their chest and resting their cheek against them, staring at the fire. “They know where I live, and I think…I think they’ve broken in.”

Supervillain raised their brows. “You think they’ve broken into your home? What do you mean?”

Civilian sighed. “I can’t prove it. And when I reported it to the police, they couldn’t find any evidence of a break in, but I just, I know they were inside my house. I just can’t prove it.”

“Did they leave anything behind? Was anything out of place, something that only you would notice?”

“Yeah. It’s why I can’t prove it, and when the police came, they couldn’t find anything. Absolutely nothing. But I know there was something off, I just don’t know what it was. I thought…I thought they’d moved the mug I’d left by the sink that morning.”

Supervillain wracked their brain, sitting back in the chair. Resting their elbows on the arm of their chair, they clasped their hands together, nearly resting their chin on their joined hands in thought.

Everyone left evidence. Everyone slipped up and left something behind, especially the longer they did something. So why couldn’t they find anything? Prints, hair, fibers, footprints, something?

“We’re going to help you.” Supervillain found themselves saying. “My team and I, we’ll help you. And by the time we’re done, you won’t have to live in fear any longer.”

Civilian glanced at them, wide eyed and gaping. “But…I can’t afford private security.”

Supervillain shook their head, a small but genuine smile coming to their face. “I don’t expect payment. Consider it, a favor, one I expect nothing in return for.”

Civilian eyed them skeptically. “Why?”

Supervillain shrugged. “I’ve been bored. It’s been a long winter and it’s only just begun. We haven’t had much to do with the holidays and it sounds like your case is a little too complicated for conventional methods.”

***

“How so?” Civilian tilted their head. Could they believe Supervillain and their desire to help? Were they being entirely honest about their motivations to help them?

“At one point or another, your stalker should have slipped up, whether it was sending the letters from the same place or licking the envelope closed or leaving something behind if they broke into your home—”

“They did break into my home,” Civilian interjected, heat cresting in their veins with their indignation.

Supervillain offered them an amused smile, “Right, sorry. But my point still stands: there should be evidence. The fact that there isn’t, is very concerning to me. Whoever is stalking you, is either very good at being a stalker or is someone with an advantage the police won’t be able to overcome.”

“What do you mean?” Civilian asked despite themselves. They didn’t know if they wanted Supervillain to answer them. The dread that had been pooling in their stomach for weeks now crashed down upon them, roiling and cresting in their gut until they thought they might be sick. Civilian didn’t like the implication of Supervillain’s words, or what it might mean for them.

“Have you or the police ever considered that your stalker might be a super human?”

Civilian swallowed against the acid rising in their throat. “No.”

“Okay,” Supervillain said, bobbing their head. “Then let’s start to consider the possibility. My team’s collected data about supers over the years, so I’ll have [Right Hand’s alias] look into it and start to compile potential suspects from there.”

“And then what?” Civilian asked. Their chest tightened. They didn’t think they were getting enough air, and yet they couldn’t seem to draw in any more breath.

“Then, we’ll come up with a plan to catch them, no matter who they are. Super, non-super, whatever the case may be, we’ll catch them. No matter what though, you’ll be safe,” Supervillain explained, offering them a sheepish smile. “I know you don’t believe me and that there probably isn’t any convincing you otherwise, but I promise you’re safe here. My team and I will keep you safe until we’ve caught your stalker.”

Civilian nodded numbly. Their anxiety consumed them, uncertain of the words Supervillain had presumably left unspoken.

How could they believe anything their supposed savior said? They wanted to, but their mind just wouldn’t let them.

Supervillain’s chair creaked as they stood. “I’m going to make a couple of phone calls so we can get started, okay? I’ll have Right Hand start to look through our database and see if anyone fits the bill, and in the meantime, I’ll fill my…associate in on this. They’re still down in the city so they may have a better chance of getting things started down there until the blizzard clears.”

“And then what?” Civilian asked, staring up at them. “What happens when the roads are clear and we—I—can leave again?”

A chill ran down their spine at the shadow that swept over Supervillain’s features. A dark gleam twinkled in their eyes. “Then, we catch ourselves a stalker.”

Civilian didn’t respond, too dumbfounded to put two words together. How could they make it sound so easy? Was it because protecting people was their job? Had they done this before, and now it was only a game to them, mere child’s play?

Supervillain collected their mugs and brought them into the kitchen. Civilian looked after them a moment longer before they turned their stunned gaze back to the leaping flames of the fireplace. Their head spun with Supervillain’s theory and their bid to help them. Their mind whirled with endless theories of their own, partially fueled by their fear and the working hypotheses the police had put together.

But if what Supervillain believed turned out to be true, and their stalker turned out to be a super human, what were any of them going to do?

Civilian couldn’t come up with an answer to quell the racing of their heart. They didn’t know any supers, but somehow they’d caught the attention of one. Or rather, they’d caught the attention of a very dangerous person, a stalker so thorough they might as well have super powers.

Shuddering, Civilian tried in vain to hear the low conversation Supervillain was holding in the kitchen. They caught a few muttered words here and there. Tilting their head back against the couch behind them, Civilian shut their eyes. Their temples pounded. They doubted their headache would go away anytime soon. Between their sleep deprivation and the constant stress on their fragile mind, it would be a miracle if they didn’t develop a chronic migraine.

The floorboards squeaked. Civilian forced their eyes open.

“Sorry,” Supervillain said, shifting on their feet. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to tell you that my colleague agreed to poke around while we wait out the storm.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” Civilian didn’t know why they’d said that, but they had. Their words had Supervillain pausing. Their eyes flitted to the hallway and back again.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Civilian shrugged.

Supervillain turned, taking a step away. “I think I know something that might help. I’ll be right back.”

Civilian watched as they moved away and down the hall they’d tried to flee down earlier. Hardly a minute later, Supervillain returned, a laptop in hand. They tapped at the keyboard, coming to a stop at the edge of the makeshift bed.

“Here,” they said offering the laptop to Civilian. Taking it from them, Civilian was greeted by StreamingSite’s home page. “Put on what you want. I’ll make some popcorn.”

At the mention of food, Civilian’s stomach clenched. They hadn’t noticed how empty their stomach was until just then, but the idea of eating appealed to them. “Uh…actually, is too much to ask for something more?”

“Like what?” Supervillain asked, stopping in their tracks.

Civilian shrugged. “I don’t know. Um…maybe pancakes?”

“Plain or chocolate chip?”

Civilian couldn’t help their grin. “Chocolate chip!”

Supervillain chuckled, and started for the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @heninthegarden, @kaiwewi, @korejon, @rivalriotrenegade, @alpacamelons

Part 7

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 5

A/N: This is the first non-Heirs of Tenebris thing I’ve written in…idk actually know how long but it feels like a lifetime😅 I can’t promise my snippets are back on a regular schedule, but I’m trying to find that work-life-Tumblr balance again, so hopefully my snippet schedule isn’t far behind because I’ve missed these little “writing” breaks😜

Warnings: reference to the death sentence (nothing serious though!), feelings of fear and anxiety, past medical scenario, references to stalking/being stalked, talk of death/near death experience, worry, self-doubt, some self-deprecating thoughts

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The words echoed in Supervillain’s ears like a death sentence might. Why have you been stalking me? Over and over again, Civilian’s question bounced around in their head as their heartbeat kept time with the seconds ticking by.

Finding their breath again, Supervillain couldn’t help themselves. Laughing, they glanced at Civilian. “You think that I,” they said amidst their hysteria, pointing at themselves, “have been stalking you?” They could hardly stand straight as their relief utterly consumed them in the most undignified way possible.

Forcing a deep breath into their lungs, Supervillain tried to stifle their amusement. They shook their head, biting their lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just…I’ve been wondering why you’ve been so skittish. I never would’ve guessed that to be the reason.”

Civilian watched them with wide eyes. They opened and closed their mouth a few times, their brows knitting together. “You’re not…”

Pressing their lips together, Civilian gripped the blanket tighter around themselves. As the humor in their own mistake finally receded from their veins, Supervillain couldn’t help but feel a crushing sympathy for the poor civilian standing in front of them. Not only had they nearly died out in this blizzard, but the reason they were on this mountain to begin with was to try and get away from a potential stalker.

“I could help…you know, with the stalker,” they said, their lips moving of their own accord.

Civilian shifted.

“Unless you’d rather steal a coat and some boots to brave the storm instead?” Supervillain tilted their head and offered them a soft smile.

“That’s all right,” Civilian mumbled. “I just…don’t know.”

They’d spoken so softly, Supervillain wasn’t certain if the second half of their reply was even meant for their ears. Supervillain studied them with a keen eye.

“Why don’t we go back into the living room and talk it over with some hot chocolate?”

Civilian nodded, not bothering to look at them. Supervillain frowned. They weren’t sure if the truth coming to light had improved anything at all. They supposed it couldn’t have made it any worse than it was. Supervillain fought against the urge to shake their head. All they could was metaphorically clear their head, worried any necessary movements would startle Civilian again.

Maybe they just need some time to adjust. Civilian had been through quite a lot between yesterday and today, and all while thinking their stalker had managed to kidnap them. Supervillain shook their head, leading the way back into the living room. This was going to be a long blizzard timeout.

*

Civilian chewed on the inside of their cheek. Had they been wrong this entire time? Was Supervillain really just an innocent bystander who’d helped to save them from their own stupidity?

They didn’t know. Their suspicions still lingered in their blood, a crippling doubt they weren’t certain anything short of a miracle could dissuade. So instead, Civilian did the only thing they could do: they studied their ‘savior.’ Trailing behind the taller person as they led the way back to the sitting room they’d fled only moments ago, Civilian re-evaluated everything they knew of them, of their supposed job, and their reason for buying the old ski lodge.

Stepping out into the dimly lit room cast in the dying embers of the fireplace, Supervillain turned to them, offering them the seat on the bed of furs and blankets they’d vacated. “I’ll just let Medic know you’re okay. If I don’t, they’ll probably hike all over the mountaintop trying to make sure you’re all right.”

Civilian nodded again, slowly making their way back to the makeshift bed. They watched as Supervillain carried on into the kitchen, presumably to make that hot chocolate they’d promised and to call Medic. Sinking down into the warmth promised by the pile of blankets and pillows, Civilian let their eyes fall closed.

How did they end up here?

Blinking their eyes open, Civilian reached up a hand and tried in vain to wipe the fatigue from their face. Their body ached. From the cold that had settled deep within their bones, from the exhaustion plaguing their weary soul, from the worry eating away at their marrow, Civilian knew only an all-consuming ache they couldn’t soothe.

Staring into the weak flames of the fireplace now, Civilian could feel their eyes welling up with tears. They wanted to go home. They wanted to curl up in their bed with their blankets and their things surrounding them and just know that they were safe, but they couldn’t.

They couldn’t because someone was stalking them—or were there multiple stalkers?

Civilian couldn’t even trust that they were safe here. That terrified little voice in the back of their mind had grown to a hysterical shout, consuming their mind. You’re not safe, it said. They’ve known your every move for months, it added, flashing the letters and photos their stalker had sent them. Did you really think coming here would be safe, it chided, only to add, and look what good it did you. You almost died and now you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of suspicious people who could very well be your stalkers!

“Whoa, are you okay?”

Civilian squeaked, flinching hard.

“I’m sorry,” Supervillain said. Their voice held a sort of uneven lilt to it that if Civilian didn’t know any better they might say was panic. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I just thought you heard me coming and then I saw you were crying and—”

“I’m not—” Civilian reached up a hand and wiped the tears from their cheeks. Rubbing the warm droplet between their fingers, they stared at the tips of their fingers. When had they started crying? “Oh.”

Supervillain slowly set down the pair of mugs in their hands on the nearby end table. Civilian brought their knees up to their chest, watching nervously as Supervillain stood back and shifted on their feet.

“Are you cold?” they asked.

“A little,” Civilian sniffled.

“I’ll throw some more wood on the fire,” they said. Grabbing one of the mugs from the end table, Supervillain offered it to them. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you stay warm.”

Civilian took the offered mug and wrapped both their hands around it, inhaling the steam. It certainly smelled like hot chocolate. The delicious aroma brought to mind memories of better times, of ski lodge vacations and snowball fights, of building snowmen and sledding down the steepest hill they could find. But Civilian pressed their lips together, knowing they couldn’t let their guard down.

One way or another, they were going to have to figure a way out of here…but for now, they thought, watching Supervillain stack a few more logs on the fire and stoke the growing flames, maybe staying here wasn’t so bad.

Neither Supervillain nor Medic had actually done anything to hurt them, so maybe this was the safest place for them to be right now, at least until the blizzard was over.

“So,” Supervillain started, taking the second mug from the end table, “tell me about your stalker. How do you know you’re being stalked?”

Civilian swallowed around the lump in their throat. “Well…” They skeptically studied Supervillain. Debating whether or not they should answer them, Civilian watched as they sat themselves down in the chair they’d occupied earlier, staring back at them with an intent focus that sent a different sort of chill down their spine.

This was the sort of person Civilian knew shouldn’t be crossed. Private security consultant. Remote location. The vague offer to help…

It all seemed rather coincidental if they thought about it too hard. But what choice did they have?

Civilian took a breath. “It all started a few months ago when…”

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @heninthegarden, @kaiwewi, @korejon/@kjcw, @rivalriotrenegade Just let me know if you'd like to be added or removed (or you can fill out this handy dandy Taglist form)! Part 6

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 4

A/N: Taking a little break from book 3 this weekend to do some crafting and such 😊 I meant to post this last week, but I never finished it though I did finish draft one of book 3 and am “working” on editing it now!

Warnings: feelings of fear and anxiety, near panic, medical scenario (past hypothermia-esque scenario, nearly freezing to death), references to stalking/being stalked, swearing, maybe slight manipulation but it’s not intended!

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Civilian dozed on and off uneasily, woken by the most innocuous of sounds from the heater kicking in to the creak of the old logs. Every so often, Supervillain would creep into the room and put another log or two on the fire. They’d stoke it, staring into the flames for a moment, before disappearing back the way they’d come. They didn’t look at Civilian when they came, and Civilian wondered if they were pointedly ignoring them or if they were even aware that Civilian was watching them.

It wasn’t until the first sign of the pale dawn light had come streaming through the high windows positioned near the ceiling that Civilian’s ear pricked again. Their eyes burst open with alarm. Heart pounding against their chest, Civilian kept completely still, listening as soft footfalls came closer and closer with each creak of the floor.

A shadow appeared behind the chair their savior had once occupied. Still, the figure came closer, holding a medium-sized duffle bag. Civilian’s breaths stuttered for only a moment before it began to tear in and out of their lungs.

“Whoa,” the person said quietly. “It’s okay, I’m just here to check on you. There’s no need to be frightened. I’m [Medic’s fake name]. I guess [Supervillain Alias] didn’t mention I’d be checking in on you?”

Civilian eyed them skeptically. “They did.”

Taking a slow step toward them, Medic asked, “May I?”

They pointed to the spot beside their bed of furs and blankets, but Civilian just kept staring back at them. Supervillain had said that Medic would be coming but…what if this was a part of their plan? What if more than one person had been sending them those letters? What if…what if it was a pair of stalkers and not just one?

“Is it all right if I examine you?” Medic stared curiously at them, holding their bag aloft as if it explained what they were going to do.

“N-no,” Civilian stammered, shifting as far away as they could on the bed without falling off.

“Oh, uh,” Medi scratched their head. “Okay then. Could…could you tell me how you’re feeling then? Better, worse, the same? Are you in any pain?”

Civilian continued to watch them warily, not providing any answers. Medic bounced on their heels, staring at them expectantly.

Finally, Civilian found their voice. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe you do have some head trauma,” Medic muttered to themselves. They raised their brow, tilting their head. “Did Supervillain not tell you what happened?”

“I don’t believe them.”

“Oh…kay,” Medic said, taking a step back. “I’ll just…come back—Ah, Supervillain!”

“Leave them be, Medic,” Supervillain said, strolling past them both and into the kitchen. “Civilian’s terrified of something…or someone.”

Medic glanced back at them and then followed after Supervillain, leaving Civilian alone in the sitting room. Civilian craned their neck to try and watch them over the top of the couch their bed had been built against, but to little effect. They were half tempted to follow after both of them, but maybe now was the perfect time to try their escape. As the whir of a coffee maker greeted their ears, overpowering the low muttering of the pair arguing animatedly over something, Civilian’s eyes darted to the hallway Supervillain had emerged from.

Their lips pressed into a determined line. Furrowing their brows in concentration, Civilian took one last glance into the kitchen, making certain the pair was too occupied to be watching them. Taking a breath, they gathered their courage.

This was their chance. And they certainly weren’t about to let it slip through their fingertips.

*

“I don’t know!” Supervillain hissed, “It’s not like I came out and told them who I am or what we really do here!”

“Well they’re more than terrified! They’re nervous system is shot, and not from their near-death experience!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Medic,” they whispered dangerously. “I’m not an idiot, I think I know when someone’s truly terrified. I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Hey, I’m just stating a fact,” Medic clarified, gesturing toward the living room. “They’re about three seconds away from a pa—”

“Wait,” Supervillain stood on their toes, craning their neck to peer into the living room. “Where’s Civilian?”

Medic followed their gaze. They audibly swallowed. “Shit.”

“Call Right Hand. Now.”

“On it. I’ll check the corridor,” Medic said, already walking away from the kitchen and pulling their jacket back on.

Supervillain stalked slowly from the kitchen, surveying the sitting room. Civilian was true and wholly gone, as if they hadn’t been there in the first place. Their lips pursed.

Why would they leave? Why risk their health, their life, just to flee and head right back into the very blizzard that’d nearly killed them in the first place? What had them so scared?

Supervillain shook their head. They’d just have to ask when they found them—if they found them again. If they’d already made it outside through the patio doors, Supervillain was hard pressed to follow them out into the harsh snow and fierce mountain gale.

But if they didn’t…It might draw unwanted attention to their base and operations here and Supervillain most certainly didn’t want that.

Cursing under their breath, Supervillain carried on into the hallway. They edged passed closed doors—storage closet, hall bath—silently pushing each one open and peeking inside only to find them as cold and empty as the sitting room. They weakly attempted to ease the glower from their features, but the more they thought of Civilian’s escape attempt, the more agitated they felt.

They should’ve just braved the storm and broken into one of the vacation homes scattered throughout the mountaintop. What were they thinking, letting Right Hand and Medic talk them into allowing Civilian to recover here?

“Not that they’d given me the chance to protest,” Supervillain mumbled, pulling the laundry room door shut behind them.

The only room left now was theirs, and with it, the patio doors leading straight out into a freezing hellscape of snow and sleet and wind.

Slowly creeping down the hall so as not to disturb the floorboards, Supervillain prowled closer and closer to the open door at the end of the hall. The light they’d left on made a small triangle on the hallway floor, but otherwise, everything seemed undisturbed. This was the only place Civilian could be—if they hadn’t made it outside yet.

Taking a silent breath, Supervillain pressed themselves against the wall beside the door. They hadn’t the slightest idea what they were going to do if they found Civilian inside. Something had spooked them, but without knowing what, Supervillain didn’t know how to approach them. It’s not like they could keep them here against their will—Supervillain grimaced.

They could keep them here against their will, but if they did, they risked exposing themselves as the master criminal plaguing the country. Or at least, that would be the risk if Civilian hadn’t already realized who they were, and that was the big problem. Supervillain didn’t know if Civilian knew who they were really were and if that was why they were scared, or if it was something else entirely.

But what?

Civilian Surname was ordinary…unless…

Supervillain’s jaw twitched. It wasn’t unheard of in the caped community, for someone without super-human powers to don a mask and call themselves either a hero or a villain. Maybe that’s why Civilian was so scared: they had a secret identity that they couldn’t risk being exposed.

Supervillain smiled. That certainly made sense given all the facts. Their patrol had found a little hero, for Civilian certainly couldn’t be a villain with their record—or lack thereof.

Shaking their head, Supervillain finally found the courage to peek inside their bedroom.

Civilian didn’t see them, struggling to get the tricky patio door open. Supervillain watched them silently for a moment, stepping into the doorway and leaning against it. After a moment of watching Civilian fiddle with the lock some more, they cleared their throat.

Civilian gasped, jumping at least a foot in the air. Whirling around, Civilian looked like a cornered rabbit, nearly pressing themselves against the frigid glass doors. Supervillain bit back a smile, imagining that they could really see Civilian’s heart beating out of their chest as their mouth opened and closed a few times. Stammering they said, “S-sta-ay a-away f-from me!”

Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture. “If you want to leave so badly, you should at least steal a coat and some boots too.”

Civilian’s brow furrowed. “W-what?”

Sighing, Supervillain took a slow step inside the bedroom, pointing vaguely to the bed as they continued on under the ever-fearful gaze of Civilian. Pulling the top blanket from their bed, Supervillain said, “I don’t know why you’re so scared, or why you want to leave in the middle of a blizzard, but if that’s what you want, then go ahead. I’m not gonna stop you, though I can’t promise Medic won’t try.”

They held the soft sherpa blanket out, wiggling it slightly in offering. Civilian stared at them, cradling their arms to their chest. Supervillain wasn’t sure if they were trembling from the cold or from their fear, though they supposed it was possible that it was the result of both.

Slowly, Civilian took the blanket from them and wrapped it around themselves. Weakly glaring at them, Civilian’s shaky voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Why have you been stalking me?”

The Lair in the Woods: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @kaiwewi

Part 5

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 3

A/N: I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS ONE I SWEAR! I really love this one, and have been meaning to write the next part but due to *mumbles excuse* I haven’t had time to until now 😊

Warnings: swearing, contemplation of murder, implied stalking, reference to hypothermia/slight hypothermia, fear, anxiety, implied anxiety attack/panic attack but not super detailed, suspected kidnapping (but not actually. Civilian just fears they’d been kidnapped)

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Supervillain’s heart sank, landing in the pit of their stomach with an earth-shattering thunk. “You…you don’t?”

Civilian shook their head, their eyes wide and red-rimmed, their lips pursed into a thin line. “No.”

Supervillain sighed.

What in the hell were they going to do now? Kill them?

No that wouldn’t help anything. And besides, Supervillain thought, getting blood out of all these furs wouldn’t be worth the quick solution Civilian’s death would bring them.

Watching Civilian trembling as they backed themselves up against the wall in their fear, Supervillain found themselves at an utter loss of what to do for the first time in a long time. Civilian had a way of doing that to them, they supposed. Ever since the patrol had found them, Supervillain’s mind had gone blank. It was as though they weren’t even a master criminal, poised to take the world should they wish it.

“Civilian,” they started slowly, taking a cautious step forward. Civilian whined, clutching their hands tighter to their chest in their fear or from the chill or both. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you, okay?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, their wide, fearful eyes watched them silently, like a rabbit cornered by a fox. Slowly, Supervillain leaned forward, picking up a blanket from the makeshift bed. Like a stop-motion figure, they offered the blanket to Civilian.

“Please,” they said in a voice that sounded an awful lot like begging, “Medic said you should keep warm.”

Civilian eyed them, glancing between them and the blanket in their hand. Supervillain’s heart thundered in their ears. Desperation and bewilderment fought for dominance in their bloodstream. But they didn’t dare move a muscle as indecision crisscrossed Civilian’s face. After a moment, Civilian bit their lip. They took the blanket from their hand and carefully draped it around their shoulders.

Nearly sagging with relief, Supervillain took a step back.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Civilian asked quietly.

Supervillian tilted their head. “Nursing you back to health?”

“No, really, why?” Civilian insisted.

“I can’t answer you if I don’t know what you’re trying to ask.” Supervillain ran a hand through their hair. Breathing out a slow sigh, they said, “Look. The only thing I want right now is for you to get well enough to go on your way. So here’s what we’re gonna do: I’m gonna leave so you can get some rest and try to relax. If you need anything, I’m just down that hallway.”

Civilian’s eyes flicked in the direction they’d pointed in and back again.

Nodding slowly, Civilian took a half-step forward. “Okay.”

Supervillain arched their brow. “Right. Well…Medic said they might pop in during the night, so…don’t freak out if you hear them coming in.”

“Okay.” Civilian’s voice was hollow, but Supervillain wasn’t sure why.

Studying them one last time before they forced themselves to turn and walk toward their bedroom, Supervillain wracked their brain for what could’ve spooked Civilian.

Had they recognized them as their criminal persona?

Shaking their head, Supervillain knew that was impossible. Their glamours were impeccable. No one would’ve seen their true features unless they’d seen their reflection, and even then, there was still the protection of their mask.

Shutting their bedroom quietly so as not to further grate on Civilian’s obviously frayed nerves, Supervillain strode to their bed. They groaned, flopping down on top of the soft covers.

What in the hell were they going to do?

*

Civilian took several deep breaths before their heart stopped pounding in their ears. Clutching the blanket tighter around themselves, they shuddered. Between the anxiety burning in their chest and their brush with hypothermia, they couldn’t stop shaking.

Why? Why had they called Supervillain out on their bluff? Why couldn’t they leave well enough alone?

Sniffling, Civilian closed their eyes. Goosebumps plagued their skin, reminding them of just how cold they were without the pile of furs and blankets they’d woken up under. Peeling themselves away from the wall, Civilian numbly sat themselves on the edge of the makeshift bed. They didn’t dare pull anymore blankets around them, for the fear of hindering themselves if they needed to escape.

Twisting around atop the pile of blankets and furs, Civilian looked around the room. The windows were too high up for them to climb through and land safely on the ground, especially if this snow storm brough a hard, icy snow over the light and fluffy snow.

There was only one door that they could see, and Civilian didn’t know where it led or if it was hooked up to an alarm that would bring Supervillain barging into the room to stop them. They didn’t know if what else was down the hallway Supervillain had gone down, but could they risk running into them or trying to sneak past their room with alerting them?

Had Supervillain threatened them by implying they were “just down that hallway?” Was there really someone else who was going to check in on them, or was that just an excuse?

Civilian needed to escape, storm be damned.

But how? Even if they could manage to find a means of escape, they weren’t properly prepared.

Civilian wiggled their toes. They didn’t know where their shoes had gone, or their colorful socks for that matter. They didn’t know who’d changed them out of their clothes, or where their’s had even gone.

Maybe…maybe all they had to do was wait. Civilian picked at the soft fibers of the blanket pooling in their lap.

Supervillain kept saying they just wanted them out of their hair, so maybe Civilian just needed to be patient and give themselves enough time to come up with a better plan…

Until then, all they could do was sift through what Supervillain had told them and wonder, were they going to let them leave?

The Lair in the Woods taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @kaiwewi

Part 4

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 2

A/N: I’m so sick of heatwaves. That’s it, that’s the note.

Warnings: reference to near-death experience (hypothermia/nearly freezing to death), past medical scenario, recovery, lying/manipulation, fear

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series masterlist

Civilian clutched the blanket tighter around themselves as they stared into the roaring flames of the fire. They sat cross-legged on a pile of bedrolls and warm blankets, trying to digest what their savior had said.

The floorboards creaked under footsteps they hadn’t heard. A hand appeared in the corner of their eye, offering them a steaming mug. The soothing scent of chocolate wafted from the mug, enticing Civilian’s hesitant senses.

“Here,” their savior said. “This should help you warm up some more.”

Civilian hummed, accepting the mug and blowing the steam away before they took a hesitant sip. Ever since they’d woken up, alarm bells had sounded in their head, an inkling that crawled over their skin and made goosebumps appear just as much as the lingering kiss of the storm’s might.

“Thanks,” they said, keeping the mug close to their face and inhaling the steam to help soothe their raw throat.

Their savior remained silent, moving only to reclaim their seat in the chair beside the makeshift bed. The fire crackled and sputtered. A few cinders flew from the mouth of the fireplace, but extinguished with sizzle against the stone hearth.

“This is the old ski lodge, isn’t it?” Civilian asked hesitantly. Peeking at their savior out of the corner of their eye, Civilian watched as they stretched their legs out and crossed them at the ankle. With the way they tilted their head back, Civilian was almost inclined to believe they were relaxed, and just entertaining a casual conversation.

Almost.

They’d seen the way their savior had studied them, how their eyes had flitted nervously toward the fireplace during their explanation of how they’d come to be here. They were hiding something, or felt like they needed to. Worst of all, they were calculating, and Civilian didn’t know why. The observation made a shiver of fear worry the knot in the back of their neck.

“It is,” they answered slowly. “How’d you know? I thought I’d renovated it enough that no one would really notice.”

Civilian couldn’t help their snort. Their cheeks heated as their savior’s gaze cut to them as they picked their head up from leaning against the back of their seat. Quickly taking another sip of their hot chocolate, Civilian settled further into the blanket wrapped around them.

“I used to come here, as a kid.”

Their savior hummed. “Care to guess which room this was?”

Civilian bit their lip. They knew all too well which room this was, and that was arguably their problem. Well, more like their loose lips.

“It’s the library,” they said after a moment. “I’d know this fireplace anywhere, and the built-ins.” They gestured toward the remaining built-in bookcases flanking the massive fireplace with their floor to ceiling library ladders. “I’m glad you kept those at least. I don’t remember there being a kitchen in here.”

Their savior offered them a small smile. “There wasn’t. When I converted the lodge, I made this my private quarters.”

Their brows furrowed for the faintest of seconds before they closed their eyes and leaned their head against the back of their seat again. Civilian studied them, sweeping their eyes over their savior’s features for some hint of recognition, but none came.

“So…are you some reclusive billionaire or something?”

Their savior laughed. Civilian flinched, not because the sound was terrifying—in truth it was actually rather…warm and genuine—but because they hadn’t expected it.

“More like something,” they said. “I’m an entrepreneur. My work is…it’s in private security.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” Civilian tried to sound teasing, but their nerves made their attempt fall flat.

“I’m not in the habit of telling people,” their savior explained. “It makes them uneasy, or they start to ask too many questions, and that can get exhausting.”

“Oh.” What else could they say to that? They certainly had questions, but if they weren’t welcomed…then all Civilian could do was keep those unasked.

Instead, they turned their mind back to the reason they were stuck here in the first place. They’d forgotten how quickly the weather could change here on the mountain. It was stupid of them, but they’d thought they had time. The weather reports had said the storm wouldn’t hit until the evening, but it’d come much sooner than that, and of course Civilian had gotten caught up in it on their snow mobile while picking up some last-minute supplies at the general store, Base Camp Supply Co., and the rest, they supposed, was history. “Well, I’m glad you found me.”

Their savior sucked in a breath. “Yes, well…I guess it’s just luck that we did.”

*

Supervillain really didn’t know how much longer they could take this. Civilian was quiet and really not much trouble at all, but they knew Civilian had questions and was mulling over every word they said. They couldn’t blame them for doing so, not even in the slightest. If their roles had been reversed, Supervillain would be doing the same…except Civilian wasn’t a master criminal. They were completely average. They enjoyed winter sports, owned the closest cabin to the lodge, volunteered at the local SPCA on a regular basis since middle school—all according to the information Medic and Right Hand had found and handed over to them. Though Civilian certainly didn’t need to know about that.

“What made you decide to buy the ski lodge?” Civilian’s soft voice broke through their thoughts.

Supervillain shook their head, focusing their attention back on their unwanted guest.

“I don’t know. Nostalgia, I guess.” That was partially true. Remote lairs weren’t easy to come by, especially at such a good price. “My family used to vacation here too, and I guess when I saw it for sale I knew it was the perfect place for my training facility.”

“Oh, so you train private security? You don’t offer it?” Civilian asked, setting their mug aside and drawing their knees up to their chest.

Supervillain bit back a smile. They looked like a baby bird swaddling themselves up like that. “Why? Do you need private security?”

Civilian didn’t answer. Instead, they only drew the blankets tighter around themselves and kept their gaze on the leaping fire casting dancing shadows around the room. Supervillain studied them anew. Raising their brow, Supervillain wracked their brain for anything in the report Right Hand and Medic had given them on Civilian Surname that would give them a reason to need protection.

Civilian was no one special by any means, as in someone who would actually need a private security force. A college graduate from a local university, both parents still alive and living happily in Retirement, and their two siblings scattered across the country, there wasn’t really anything about the Surnames that said ‘we need our own security detail.’ None of them even had a criminal record, so it couldn’t be anything to do with that—or the lack thereof, so then what? Why was Civilian so quiet all of a sudden? What happened to their curiosity, their attempt to pass the time until the blizzard was over?

“Civilian,” Supervillain started, leaning forward in their seat, resting the elbows on their knees and clasping their hands together, “do you need protection? Is someone…do you think you’re in danger?”

Civilian shrugged. In a quiet voice, they said, “No.”

Supervillain narrowed their eyes, studying Civilian as they attempted to make themselves even smaller. Now who didn’t sound so sure? But how did Supervillain get them to talk, to tell—wait, why did Supervillain care? They didn’t even want Civilian here in the first place, so why should they care if there was something going on in their life that was causing them distress?

They shouldn’t care.

But they did.

Forcing themselves to ease back in their chair, Supervillain fought the sigh that desperately wanted to escape their lips.

“I’m sure the storm will pass soon,” Supervillain said slowly, still contemplating Civilian’s clamminess. “You should be able to go home before you know it.”

Civilian’s jaw twitched, but they nodded anyway.

“Unless…there’s a reason you don’t want to?”

Civilian slowly turned to look them. Their wide-eyed gaze landed on them, full of fear, hands clenching the blankets even tighter. “What?”

“Most of the houses around here are vacation homes, right?” Supervillain shrugged, trying to keep their tone light. “With the ski lodge shut down now, most of these homes remain vacant in the winter because the ski paths haven’t been maintained and instead they’ve become more hiker’s retreats and hunting cabins, which is another reason I bought the lodge. I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of people on the mountain at any given time, especially in the dead of winter.

“But you’re here. And it’s winter, so you must be the only other year-round resident on this mountain,” Supervillain paused, “or you just really like winter sports.”

“I…” Civilian started, but stopped. Their mouth opened and closed a few times before they shook their head and returned their gaze to the fire. “T-that makes…yeah, that makes s-sense for…for your company.”

Supervillain frowned. “Are you alright?”

“F-fine.” Civilian’s voice cracked, as if they were choking back tears or already crying.

“Are you sure?” Supervillain asked, their heart racing as their concern grew. Civilian’s shoulders slumped, rising and falling with a shuddered breath and then another. Supervillain didn’t think they’d said anything threatening or otherwise upsetting. “You sound like…are you crying?”

Civilian burst into action, scrambling out of the blankets and clumsily getting to their feet. With the bed of blankets, furs, and bedrolls between them, Civilian whirled to face them. Tears trailed down their cheeks. From where they sat frozen to their chair, Supervillain could see how Civilian’s entire body trembled, but they weren’t sure if it was from their tears, the chill, or their slack-jawed terror.

“What do you want from me?” Civilian sniffled.

“What?” Supervillain echoed, “What do I want from you?” Civilian’s chest heaved. Supervillain made to stand, but as they shifted, Civilian made a choked noise that sounded a bit like ‘no’ and a crackly gasp, so they remained seated. “Nothing, Civilian. I just want to make sure you’re safe and that you’re okay to get yourself home and out of my hair.”

“H-how did,” their lip wobbled as they seemed to force the words through their tears, “how did you find me?”

Supervillain raised their hands placatingly, slowly getting to their feet. “Technically, I didn’t. One of my patrol teams did. They brought you in and had one of our medics here look you over.”

Civilian clutched their arms to their chest. “If you have medical staff, h-how come I’m not in the infirmary or something?”

“They—I—we,” Supervillain squeezed their eyes shut, pinching the bridge of their nose. This was an awful idea, and as soon as Civilian was dealt with and returned home, they were going to let Right Hand and Medic know exactly how awful an idea this was. Taking a steadying breath, Supervillain shoved their temper aside and addressed Civilian as calmly as they could, making sure their eyes met theirs as honestly as possible. “We thought you’d be more comfortable here. The HVAC in the lodge isn’t that great still, and the storm hasn’t helped. We’re running on generators now, so a good chunk of the building is ice cold.”

Nearly vibrating now, Civilian took another step back and murmured, “I don’t believe you.”

Taglist (just let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur

Part 3

[mymusehatesme]

The Lair in the Woods

A/N: I wasn’t really planning on posting anything of mine today, but I’ve had my eye on this amazing prompt by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you for a while now and decided today is the day! Prompt is in blue font!

Warnings: Nearly freezing to death, unedited, medical scenario, HIPPA violation because I think it’s cool if people with healing powers can sense old injuries/illness when examining another person

LMK if I forgot anything!

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series masterlist

Civilian staggered through the knee-high snow. Clutching their arms tightly around their middle, they tried to hunch their shoulders and tuck their head close enough to their chest to shield their face from the biting wind. It was a useless effort. The snow and howling wind blasted their body until they could hardly keep their eyes open. Trudging through the dense snow for what seemed like an eternity, sweat dripped down Civilian’s spine and collected along their brow. Their breaths were more like wheezes at this point.

They were never going to make it back to their cabin.

Supervillain let out a long sigh, dropping the papers they were studying back on their desk. “Come in.”

“Uh, Boss?” A henchman they hadn’t seen before poked their head into the office, not even daring to step over the threshold of the door. “We…found someone in the woods…during one of our, uh, one of our patrols.”

“And I care because?” Supervillain sat back in their chair, tilting the seat back slightly to stretch their legs out under their desk, and clasped their hands over their stomach.

“Other Henchman believes they’re a civilian and Right Hand can’t identify them, so t-they sent me to tell you.”

Supervillain studied them for a moment, turning all the different scenarios over in their head. It could be a hero. It could very well be a trap, an attempt to infiltrate their lair, but if Right Hand couldn’t identify them…

Their lair was fairly isolated, and in a storm like this, no one in their right mind would be out and about. By all accounts, their base was impenetrable today. Even if someone from one of the few vacation homes scattered across this mountain had lost their way in the woods, they would’ve known better than to go out on a day like today.

“Where are they now?” Supervillain stood from their desk and pulled on their jacket. Their winter fortress had a notorious heating issue in the sense that the hallways were freezing and only the rooms with a roaring fire or space heater were in any sense comfortable.

“In the infirmary with Right Hand.”

“You’re dismissed.”

The lackey bobbed their head and left without another word. Supervillain shook their head, lips pursed as they put on their weapons belt. They wouldn’t last long in Supervillain’s organization if they couldn’t make a report to their superior without shaking in their boots. Perhaps it was only the cold. Maybe they were still pretty new, but either way, Supervillain expected their resignation on their desk sooner rather than later.

With slow, deliberate steps, Supervillain crossed their office and locked the door behind them. They clenched their jaw against the cold air of the hallway that assaulted them as soon as they’d step foot over the threshold. The shock trailed down their spine, making them grateful for the fur-lined collar and thick fabric of their coat.

They had every intention of ransoming whoever it was that had shown up on their doorstep. Unless it was Mentor. They’d be more than happy to rid the world of the likes of them.

Quickly, they wove their way through the converted ski lodge they’d purchased for a bargain until they reached the infirmary, and with it the warmth of a space heater. The infirmary was on the main level of the lair, and therefore in one of the original parts of the old ski lodge. Supervillain doubted any patients would find must peace given how the wind howled right outside the thin windows did nothing to dampen the sound.

Right Hand had their feet kicked up on Medic’s desk, their laptop balanced on their thighs and their brow furrowed in concentration.

“So, who was dumb enough to brave this storm?”

At the sound of their voice, Right Hand glanced away from their screen, their eyes flashing with annoyance but the frown of their lips faded into an amused smirk when they realized it was only them.

They raised their brows. “I’m surprised Henchman didn’t pass out,” Right Hand laughed. “They might just survive in this job.”

Supervillain chuckled, stripping off their jacket and draping it over a spare chair by the doorway.

“As far as our human popsicle goes, I have no clue. There’s nothing on them personally to indicate any kind of association, hero or rival. I’ve checked every record we have on hero IDs and hacked the Union but so far nothing,” they grumbled. Their attention shifted back to their screen. “The Guild has better cybersecurity, so it might take me awhile before I can get into their system and find their personal records.”

Supervillain nodded. “And their condition?”

“Unconscious, but not hypothermic,” Right Hand said. Sighing, they added, “Medic says the patrol found them just in time. We just have to thaw them out and wait for them to wake up.”

“Lucky them.” Supervillain took a step closer to the medical bays, seeking out their prey.

As they approached the last medical bay, Medic swept through the curtains and ensued they were drawn, their focus entirely on the patient chart in their hands.

“Medic.”

Flinching, Medic turned a glare on them. “After all these years, and you still do that to me!”

Supervillain flashed them a grin. “After all these years and you still haven’t gotten used to it.”

Huffing, Medic closed the gap between them and led Supervillain back the way they’d come until they were standing in the middle of the infirmary with empty beds on either side except for the one all the way down on the end.

“They don’t have any injuries and no head trauma, so once they regain consciousness, they should be fine. Discombobulated, probably, but otherwise sound.”

“Could you tell who they were?”

“No. They don’t have any past injuries that indicate a life of heroism. There is some evidence of old injuries like a broken ankle and fractured collarbone, but that’s pretty normal compared to the injuries I’ve seen on capes, so I really don’t think they’re much of anyone.”

Supervillain considered this for a moment before speaking. “Could they be a rookie?”

“I doubt it. They’d have to be desperate to send a rookie.”

“True, but they’d be a fresh face, one we haven’t seen before.”

Medic tutted. “Do you honestly believe someone would be so reckless as to send a newly minted hero or a sidekick or—”

“No,” Supervillain interrupted, not in the mood for one of Medic’s lectures in rational thought, “but it is something we have to hypothetically consider. Besides, it might be easier to deal with than the alternative.”

“And what’s that? That I’m right?”

“No,” Supervillain said, shifting their gaze toward the end of the aisle as if they could see through the curtains and the look upon the person who had nearly frozen to death on their mountain. “That they’re actually a civilian and we’ve just brought them into a highly secured base filled to the brim with evidence and conspiracy of our crimes. That’s what I don’t want to deal with, and you being right just makes that scenario even worse.”

Medic rolled their eyes. “Well if Right Hand can’t figure out who they are, I took a blood sample. Maybe they’re in a database somewhere and I can get a hit on their ID that way.”

“And you said you weren’t cut out for villainy,” Supervillain said in mock pride.

“Shut up.”

As Medic went on their way, Supervillain a moment, gathering their thoughts and steeling themselves before they went to see just who their lackeys had rescued from Death’s icy kiss.

Parting the curtains just enough to get a glimpse of the serenity gripping their patient’s features, Supervillain found themselves disappointed. Their face, their features, nothing seemed familiar to them. No recognition dawned on them, and with that glaring realization came the fact that this person was about to become a giant headache. Supervillain returned to their office without a word to their closest confidantes, scowling the entire way back. Their oh-so-important paperwork remained untouched as they stared into space, contemplating just who their unidentifiable patient was.

About an hour later, another knock sounded at their door. Whoever it was didn’t even wait for their response and threw the door wide open. Right Hand strolled through the door, a smug expression on their face. They had their laptop tucked against their side, sliding it onto the desk as they flopped down in the chair opposite them.

“I found them before Medic,” they grinned.

“By seconds!” Medic huffed, walking through the door and glaring at the back of Right Hand’s head. Their coat and hair were disheveled, indicative that Right Hand had undoubtedly fought them in order to have all the glory of finding out who their rescued icicle was.

“No one likes a sore loser, Medic,” Right Hand chastised, still smirking.

“Well one of you better tell me before I lose my patience.”

“Civilian Surname!” They both shouted, trying to get it out before the other. The two shared a look of mutual disdain.

Supervillain swore, rubbing the back of their neck. “This is the worst possible outcome we could’ve been presented with.”

“Yes, but no.”

Supervillain arched their eyebrow. “Go on.”

Medic and Right Hand shared a look, uncertainty passing between them. Silently, the two seemed to be fighting over who would have to take the responsibility of telling Supervillain the plan they’d come up with in between searching for the patient’s identity. In the end, it was Right Hand who’d cleared their throat. Snickering, Medic stood and strode over to the liquor cabinet, pouring them each a drink.

“Put them in a room in the residence wing. Skip the whole ‘glowering master criminal’ bit and then we can send them on their merry way when the storm passes, all without raising their suspicions.”

“Do you honestly believe that’ll work?”

“Well it’s either that or I pump enough sedative into their system to keep them under until the storm passes and then we break into one of the vacation, and pretend we found them and brought them to our hunting cabin.”

“I much prefer that option,” Supervillain mumbled, downing the amber liquid in one go, “but something tells me you don’t.”

“It’s too risky. I don’t feel comfortable sedating them when they’d almost froze to death,” Medic replied, swishing their drink around in their glass.

Supervillain let out a long sigh. “So there’s really no choice. It’s the residence wing or nothing?”

“Yep,” Right Hand said, sipping their drink and averting their gaze.

Supervillain narrowed their eyes, studying their oldest friend. “You didn’t.”

Medic knocked back their drink and immediately went to refill their glass.

“You did,” Supervillain breathed, jumping to their feet. They didn’t even bother with their coat or listening to their friends’ hurried explanation before racing out of their office and through the halls of the ski lodge until they reached the residential wing. Taking a breath, they pushed open the double doors and calmly crossed the threshold.

A crackling fire had been built in the great room. They quickly shed their mask and stuffed it in their pocket. Supervillain’s footsteps were silent as they crossed the room and peered over the couch.

Civilian was still out cold, snuggled in a pile of blankets and several layers of bedrolls their scheming friends had dragged in from storage.

Their mouth dropped in a silent breath of relief. Easy away, Supervillain quietly made their way down the hallway and into their bedroom. They stripped quickly, reemerging out into the great room moments later, dressed in their most unsuspecting civilian clothes.

Glancing over at the makeshift bed, Supervillain studied them in the dancing light of the fireplace.

The civilian shivered beneath the blankets, curling themself up into a ball as the air around them slowly warmed up thanks to the fireplace on the other end of the room.

The supervillain watching over them frowned and tucked the blankets tighter around them before sitting down in a chair they had previously moved over to the bed.

How did Civilian end up in the middle of their snowy territory? They were lucky that Supervillain’s patrolling henchmen had found them. Otherwise, they would’ve frozen to death out there.

They supposed they’d just have to find out once they woke up, but until then, Supervillain wracked their brain for a solid cover to explain their circumstances to their apparent neighbor.

Part 2

[mymusehatesme]

[mymusehatesme]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART I: HEAVEN KNOWS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part II // part III // part IV // part V

wc: 4.7k cw: guns, brief descriptions of violence author's note: ty @mirconreadzztuff22 for being my arcane encyclopedia!! This is gonna be a seven part series so buckle up!!!

You blink awake, the world slowly coming into focus as a cacophony of muffled sounds pierces your slumber. Squinting one eye open, you’re able to see shadowy figures dragging your companions away, their struggles futile against the intruders' iron grips. Your heart races, but instinct kicks in. You remain still, feigning sleep, as footsteps approach.  

Someone looms over you - in the dim light filtering through the drugstore's grimy windows, you catch a glimpse of her scarred face and steely gaze. As she reaches for you, adrenaline surges through your veins. In a flash, you slam into her, catching her off guard.

For a split second, you had the upper hand - but it's short-lived. The woman recovers with lightning speed, her combat skills levels way above yours. She easily corners you against the cold, dusty shelves, her knife finding its way to your throat. The blade's edge kisses your skin, a thin line of warmth trickling down your neck.

"Move any further, and I can end this now." she growls, her breath hot against your ear.

You raise your hands in surrender, and she roughly drags you to join the others. You're thrust into the main area, forced to your knees alongside Vander, Vi, Caitlyn, and Powder. The scene before you is horrifying - Through the front window, you see a horde of walkers slamming against the glass. Their decaying faces press against the surface, leaving smears of rot and congealed blood. 

At the fore stood the woman who captured you, her gang forming a menacing circle around your group. You noted how tall and muscular she was, her dark skin gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat in the dim light. A red shawl draped over her left side, obscuring her arm and shoulder.  Her short, styled hair framed a face set in stern lines, but her eyes, they sparkled with something dangerous, almost predatory.

The woman’s gaze swept over your group, lingering on each face before settling on yours. "Looks like we've got ourselves some lost lambs," she drawled, her voice a low, smoky rasp.

You felt Vi tense beside you, her fists clenching. On your other side, Caitlyn's fingers twitched near her now empty holster. Powder, uncharacteristically quiet, had her gaze fixed on the panels with the undead clawing their bloody fingers at.

The air crackled with tension as Vander spoke. "We're just passing through, we don’t mean to cause any trouble."

"Do you know whose territory you're in?" she demands, her voice cutting through the moans of the undead outside.

"No… but we weren’t going to settle here, let us go and we’ll get out of your hair."

The woman's laugh is harsh and devoid of humor. "I don't care," she sneers. Her eyes scan the ransacked shelves of the drugstore. "What I care about is where the remaining medications are. Hand them over."

Your throat tightens. You know exactly where they are – hidden in your pack. "I have them."

Her gaze locks on you. "Hand them over."

"Why should I?"

In an instant, she's in your face, so close you can see the flecks of amber in her dark eyes. Her scarred lip curls into a snarl. "Because you don't want to know what happens if you don't."

Your mind races, torn between protecting your group's precious resources and avoiding the wrath of this formidable woman and her gang.  Would she really let you go if you acquiesced? 

The tense standoff is suddenly interrupted by a burst of static. One of the woman's group members fumbles with a radio clipped to their belt. A male voice crackles through, urgent and clear.

"Sevika, the store's surrounded now. Get out before dark hits. Over."

The tall woman - Sevika, you now know - snatches the radio. "Copy that," she replies tersely, her eyes never leaving your group.

With a sharp whistle, her group springs into action. They wordlessly pack supplies, secure weapons, and prepare for evacuation. The efficiency is impressive, and you can't help but admire their coordination even when you had two of them keep their guns trained on your group.

“What about us?"  

Sevika's lip curls in amusement. "What about you?"

"Are you going to let us go?" Vander presses, his voice steady despite the circumstances.

"Sure," Sevika drawls, then points directly at you. "After she gives me the meds."

"What? How the hell are we going to get out of here ourselves?" Vi protested. 

Sevika's response is cold and indifferent. "If you want to get out that bad, do it yourself."

You watch Vander's mind work, always strategizing. "You have a base, it’s obviously well-supplied based on the amount of weapons and people you have. Take us with you, we can fight and help."

Sevika scoffs. "Now, why would I do that? You're lucky enough I'm letting you go alive."

Someone in her group chimes in with a smirk, "If they can get out alive." Snickers ripple through the gang, and your stomach turns at their callousness.

As Sevika's group continues packing, she allows your group to stand. You seize the moment, stepping forward. "I've got EMT training. I know how to use the medications I took."

Sevika dismisses you with a wave. "No thanks. We've already got a doctor."

"More help wouldn't hurt."

Her patience wearing thin, Sevika snaps, "I'm not picking up strays, especially ones so easy to put down."

You step closer, your face inches from hers despite the notable height difference between you two. "We were easy to capture because we were sleeping. That's a coward's move."

One of Sevika's people moves to intervene, but she halts them with a raised hand. Her eyes lock with yours, and to your surprise, her scowl turns into a smirk. 

"Okay," she says, her voice low and challenging. "Prove to me right now that you can survive.  However many survive, we'll take them in. But anyone left behind, I'm not coming back for. You're responsible for this."

Vander nods grimly. "Fine with us."

The moans of the undead grow louder outside.  While Sevika's group finishes their preparations, your group hurries to gather what few possessions you have. 

Vi angrily stuffs clothes into her backpack. "This is bullshit," she hisses. "We can take 'em. I say we fight our way out."

Caitlyn shakes her head. "That's suicide, Vi. They outnumber and outgun us."

You kneel beside Powder, helping her gather her collection of odds and ends - Her hands shake slightly as she works.

"It'll be okay, Powder," you whisper, giving her a reassuring smile. "We'll stick together, just like always."

Powder's eyes dart nervously between you and the others. "But what if they separate us? What if-"

"Shh," you soothe, squeezing her shoulder gently. "We won't let that happen."

Vander's deep voice cuts through the murmurs. "Enough," he says firmly but quietly. "I know none of us like this, but we're out of options. We can't keep running forever."

Vi whirls on him, eyes flashing. "So we're just gonna roll over and let them take us? After everything we've been through?"

Caitlyn places a calming hand on Vi's arm. "Vander's right, Vi. We're exhausted, low on supplies. This might be our only chance at something better."

You stand up, looking around at your makeshift family. "Maybe this is an opportunity. We don't know what their community is like but it could be a chance for a real home."

Vi scoffs, but there's a flicker of hope in her eyes that she quickly tries to hide. "Yeah, right. And I'm sure they invited us out of the kindness of their hearts."

Vander steps into the middle of the group, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. "Listen to me," he says. "I don't trust them any more than you do. But right now, we need to play along. Stay alert, watch each other's backs, and be ready for anything. We're stronger together, remember that."

There's a moment of silence as his words sink in. Then, one by one, you all nod in agreement.

As you finish packing, you catch Sevika watching you, that same unreadable expression on her face. 

"Alright, time's up," Sevika calls out. "Let's move."

The moans of the undead grew louder outside, time was running out. With one last look at each other, your group falls in line behind Sevika's squad. 

Sevika's group snap into formation, they move with a fluid precision that speaks of countless drills and shared experiences. Sevika stands at the center, her scarred face set in grim determination as she outlines the plan to her team. You edge closer, straining to hear every word.

"Listen up," Sevika's voice cuts through the air. "Dustin, you're the distraction. When I give the signal, toss the radio into the parking lot. That should draw most of the horde away."

"Margot, Ran, Renni take position at the rear, pick off any stragglers that get too close. Conserve ammo, make every shot count.  Finn, you’ll lead - make sure everyone is accounted for, then go, don’t wait for us."

"The rest of you, we're on supply duty. Grab everything you can carry, and prioritize non-perishables." Sevika's eyes sweep over her team, then land on your group. "I'll be keeping an eye on our new 'friends'."

As the plan springs into action, adrenaline courses through your veins. You dash to your pickup truck, sliding into the driver's seat. Powder hops in beside you, her eyes wild with excitement. In the rearview mirror, you see Caitlyn and Vi taking up defensive positions in the truck bed, their guns at the ready. Vander moves with surprising agility for his size, efficiently loading supplies.

You hear hard rock playing from the blaring radio that Dustin hurls into the parking lot. The walkers' heads swivel towards the noise, their groans intensifying as they shamble after it.

Gunshots crack the air as Sevika's shooters pick off the walkers that didn't fall for the distraction. You grip the steering wheel tighter, ready to peel out at a moment's notice.

Sevika appears at your window. "Ready to prove your worth?" she challenges, eyebrow raised.

You’re about to respond when a voice from above steals your attention.

"Sevika!"

All heads turn to the roof. A kid stands there, panic evident on his face. Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What the fuck? They forgot Ekko?" she snarls, livid at the oversight.

The momentary distraction costs you. Walkers, drawn by the commotion, shamble towards your truck. Only one corner of the store remains clear, but it's too far for Ekko to reach safely.

Your mind races, and adrenaline sharpens your focus. "I know how to drift," you blurt out. "If you guys can clear as many walkers as possible near that open corner, I can whip the car close enough for him to jump down."

Sevika eyes you skeptically. "You have an interesting set of skills…  you’re confident you can get us close enough?"

"I can do it in my sleep. So, are we doing this?" you ask.

She nods curtly. "Fine. But don't get tempted to fling me out of the car."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Sevika barks orders into her radio, relaying the plan to Ekko. The air fills with gunfire as both groups focus on clearing a path. You rev the engine, calculating angles and timing in your head.

"Hold on!" you shout, then slam the accelerator.

The truck lurches forward, tires screeching. You weave through the thinning walkers horde, your heart pounding in your ears. As you approach the corner, you crank the wheel hard, initiating a perfect drift. The world blurs around you as the truck slides sideways, stopping just beneath Ekko's position.

"Now!" Sevika roars.

Ekko leaps, landing with a thud in the truck bed. You don't wait for confirmation, immediately spinning the wheel to face the exit. In the passenger seat, Powder whoops with glee, while gunfire erupts from behind as Caitlyn and Vi pick off any pursuing undead.

A sharp tap on your window startles you from your laser focus on the road. You roll it down, coming face to face with Sevika's intense gaze.

"Need some directions?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you realize you've been blindly following the road away from the store. "Uh, yeah. That'd be great," you manage, trying to mask your embarrassment.

As you follow Sevika's directions, a sight on the horizon makes your jaw drop. A gated community looms in the distance, its high walls painted with the word “Zaun” on it represent safety you haven't seen in years. Suddenly, the organized efficiency of Sevika's group makes perfect sense. This is nothing like the ramshackle shelters you've cobbled together over the years.

The convoy of trucks comes to a halt in front of the gates. You expect them to open, but Sevika raises her fist. Your brow furrows in confusion, but before you can ask, she's out of the truck, moving with predatory grace toward the other vehicles.

She stops at one truck, yanking the door open with such force you're surprised it doesn't come off its hinges. In one fluid motion, she drags out the man who was supposed to be in charge in her absence earlier, Finn, and slams him against the side of the vehicle.

"You coward," Sevika snarls, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're a disgrace to this group."

You're transfixed by the sheer intensity of her anger, the way she towers over Finn despite not being much taller.   Then you see it - movement in your peripheral vision. A walker, stumbling closer to Sevika's unprotected back. Your heart leaps into your throat, panic flooding your system.

"Sevika!" you try to shout, but it comes out as a strangled whisper. Ekko's grip on your arm tightens, holding you back.

"Don't." he warns, but you barely hear him roaring in your ears.

Your mind races, unable to comprehend why no one is reacting. The walkers are mere feet away now. You struggle against Ekko's grasp, every fiber of your being screaming to do something, anything.

The walkers' rotting hands reach out, inches from Sevika's shoulder. Time seems to slow down. You're about to break free, to hell with the consequences, when-

CRACK!

The walkers crumples, a clean hole through its skull. The bullet whistled so close to Sevika you swear it must have grazed her.

But Sevika doesn't even flinch. 

"You're pathetic," she spits, her eyes boring into the man.

And suddenly, it clicks. The walker was never going to be a threat, but Finn was going to let the walker get her.  That decision was a huge fucking mistake.  

Before she let go, he leaned in to whisper something imperceptible but it had enough effect that she practically threw him onto the ground in response.

The gates begin to open, and as Sevika strides back to your truck, you can't help but feel a mix of admiration and fear.   The woman before you was no ordinary one, she was willing to put her life on the line to protect her people and weed out the weak links.

Sevika slid back into the seat next to you, her eyes meeting yours.  You feel exposed, like she can see right through you. There's a challenge there, a silent question: Do you know what you’re getting into?

You swallow hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

As you drive through the gate, you couldn’t conceal your awe. The scene before you is like stepping into a different world - one untouched by the horrors of the apocalypse you've grown accustomed to.

Neat rows of houses line well-maintained streets. Lush gardens and small farms dot the landscape, bursting with life and color. People - actual living, breathing people - stroll along sidewalks, chatting and going about their day as if the world outside these walls hasn't ended.

You count maybe 15-20 houses in total, but the sheer number of people you see is staggering. There are more living souls in this one community than you've encountered in years of scavenging and surviving.

Sevika directs you to a parking spot, and as you're climbing out of the truck, a woman approaches. She's tall and dressed in a neat uniform, with short-cropped gray hair and a face etched with the kind of hardness that comes from years of survival. Her sharp eyes remind you of a hawk's.

"How much longer were you gonna keep talking before you let me shoot?" she asks Sevika, a hint of amusement in her gruff voice.

"As long as it takes to make my point, Grayson." Then, gesturing to your group, she adds, "I picked up some strays today. Oh, and a spot just opened on my team, by the way. If anyone in your group wants to switch sides..."

"Enough of stealing my patrol, Vika."  For the first time, you see Sevika truly laugh. You notice her tooth gap, she looks almost carefree.  

“Well, looks like you survived,” Sevika says, turning to your group.

“You could say that with a bit more enthusiasm next time.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips at your quip.  “It’s your turn to uphold your end of the bargain now.”  She puts out her hand.  

You retrieve the bag you stuffed under the seat, it rattles with the pills as you hand it over.  Without even a goodbye or thank you, she turns to leave, and you watch as her group immediately follows suit.

Grayson gives you a once-over, then nods. "Alright, let's give you the grand tour."

The houses were luxurious and belonged to a class you never knew. Some have solar panels on the roofs, explaining the electricity you can see being used. There's a central square with what looks like a communal dining area. The smell of cooking food makes your mouth water - real, fresh food, not the canned goods and stale rations you're used to.

You pass by a building that Grayson identifies as the infirmary. Through the window, you can see shelves stocked with medical supplies. It's more medicine in one place than you've seen since the world fell apart. You notice guard towers strategically placed along the walls - despite the idyllic appearance, it's clear this place is well-defended.

"I've got a meeting to attend but Ekko here will take care of you, though I do hope that we will meet again - my patrol squad is always looking for new members." With that, Grayson strides away, leaving you all trying to take in the scenery.

"Come on, let's get you settled in! Sky will get you guys all sorted out." Ekko waved at your group to follow.

He leads you through the streets, and you can't help but marvel at the sense of normalcy. People are going about their daily lives, talking, and laughing. It's like stepping into a memory of the world before.

"Welcome!" Sky says, her voice gentle with a hint of anxiety at the sight of your group - soot ridden and blood stained clothes weren’t the most friendly image. "We got a spare house. It’s not huge, but it should accommodate all of you comfortably."

She hands Vander a set of keys and a small map. Then, with a delicate clearing of her throat, she adds, "If I may suggest... There are showers in your new home. I think you'll find them... refreshing after your journey."

Vi snorts at the polite understatement, while Caitlyn looks slightly embarrassed. 

Sky continues, "Once you've had a chance to clean up, Ekko can show you to the pantry. We'll make sure you have enough food to get started."

You can hardly believe what you're hearing. Showers? Fresh food? It seems too good to be true.

As if reading your thoughts, Sky's expression softens. "I know this must be overwhelming. Take your time to settle in. It must be hard adjusting to how it is here, but this place didn’t happen overnight. Everyone here has a part in maintaining things the way it is. "

Ekko nods, gesturing towards the door. "Ready to see your new digs?"

As you follow him out, you exchange glances with your companions. There's hope in their eyes, but also caution. This place seems like a dream come true, but you all knew that nothing was ever permanent. 

The moment you step into your new house, chaos erupts. Bags fly everywhere as you all rush to claim spaces. Vi tosses her pack onto a bed, while Caitlyn more carefully sets hers down. You and Powder are a whirlwind of motion, exploring every nook and cranny.

Tears prick your eyes as the reality sinks in. A real home, after so long.

"I call the couch!" Powder shouts, leaping onto it.

Vi raises an eyebrow. "You can have the bed, you know."

"Nope! This is perfect," Powder grins, bouncing slightly.

You all burst into laughter, the sound foreign but welcome after so much hardship. As the laughter dies down, you realize just how hungry you are. Powder’s stomach growls loudly, causing another round of giggles.

"I think that's our cue to hit the pantry," Vi says, standing up and stretching. "Come on, let's see what they've got around here."

At the pantry, you're shoveling food into your mouth, barely pausing to breathe. "I know this is canned, but why is it so good?" you mumble around a mouthful.

Ekko chuckles. "We have fresh fish, vegetables, and fruit too."

Your eyes widen in disbelief just as Sky walks in, Sevika close behind.

"Oh perfect, we were looking for you guys!" Sky says warmly.

Sevika's eyes scan your group. "I see you're settling in already. We’ve got jobs for you."

She starts assigning roles, Vander and Vi in food gathering. Then she turns to you, Caitlyn, and Powder. "You three will be working here in the pantry."

"What? Even after all those 'interesting skills' you said I had?" The words are out before you can stop them, tinged with disbelief and a hint of anger.

"This is a serious job. Making sure everyone gets the right rations is important. Preventing theft, too." Her tone is cocky, almost challenging.

Fury bubbles in your chest. After everything you've been through, all the skills you've developed to survive, you're being relegated to... food inventory? You want to argue, to prove your worth, but the words stick in your throat. You're acutely aware of how precarious your position is here.

Beside you, Caitlyn looks equally stunned. She's an incredible shot, her skills were wasted on this task. But like you, she remains silent.

"Understood," you manage to say, the word tasting bitter. You exchange a glance with Caitlyn, seeing the same resolve in her eyes. 

The days blend into one another as you settle into a routine at Zaun. It's surreal, to be able to think beyond mere survival. Conversations here with others touch on memories, hopes, dreams - luxuries you'd almost forgotten existed.

You're lost in thought, mentally cataloging the supplies, when a familiar voice cuts through your concentration.

"Looks like our newest recruits are really getting into the swing of things."

You turn to see Sevika leaning against the doorframe. Her presence fills the small space, making the pantry feel even more cramped than usual.

"Don't you have something more important to do?" you mutter, trying to hide your annoyance. "Like, I don't know, running this whole place?"

Sevika chuckles, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the pantry. "Multitasking, sweetheart. I can keep an eye on you and run this place at the same time."

You roll your eyes, returning to your task. But Sevika doesn't leave. Instead, she picks up a can, tossing it from hand to hand.

"You know," she drawls, "when I brought you in, I thought you might be more... useful. Didn't peg you for the grocery store clerk type."

Her words sting more than you'd like to admit, and it was also enraging - how dare she act like it wasn’t her fault you were assigned here in the first place? 

"We can't all be badass scavengers," you retort, reaching for a high shelf. Before you can grab it, Sevika's arm extends past yours, easily plucking the item you were struggling to reach.

"Here," she says, handing it to you. Your fingers brush as you take it, and you're struck by the calloused warmth of her hand.  You mutter a reluctant thanks, hyper-aware of her proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, you notice Caitlyn watching your interaction intently from across the room. Her gaze flicks between you and Sevika, a mix of curiosity and concern in her eyes.

Sevika notices too. She turns to Caitlyn with a raised eyebrow, the casualness in her voice from earlier gone. "Something on your mind?"

Caitlyn quickly averts her gaze, busying herself with her task. 

As you reach for another box, Sevika beats you to it, effortlessly lifting the heavy container. 

"How do you even have time for this?" you blurt out, frustration and confusion coloring your voice. 

Sevika sets the box down, her eyes meeting yours. "I don’t." 

The moment stretches between you, fraught with tension. Sevika's typical scowl returns, and she turns to leave.  "Try not to burn the place down with your expert can-stacking skills," she throws over her shoulder as she exits.

These encounters with Sevika were becoming more frequent, each one leaving you more uncertain than the last. But the random checkups made sense - you don't trust her, and neither does she.  

The pantry job was a way to keep your group in check but it coincidentally became a test of patience as well. Powder flits in and out, her time increasingly spent with Ekko. While part of you was frustrated by her lack of help, a larger part was glad she actually got to enjoy her childhood.

The breaking point comes during an argument with a burly man demanding extra rations. 

"Sorry, but rules are rules," you say, trying to keep your voice level. "Take it up with Sevika if you have an issue."

His face reddens. "Screw that, I'll go straight to Silco!"

The name hangs in the air, the mysterious leader of Zaun you've yet to meet. You knew Sevika's role as his right hand, but Silco himself remains an enigma, spoken of in hushed tones.

As the man storms off, you lock eyes with Caitlyn. Without a word, you both know - it's time for a change.

You find Grayson at the tennis courts, an incongruous sight that still makes you do a double-take. She's lounging in a weathered lawn chair, a beer in hand, watching a lackluster game between two residents.

The sun beats down on the cracked concrete court, weeds pushing through the fading lines.

Grayson spots you approaching, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes a long swig of her beer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You can smell the alcohol on her breath as you draw closer, noting the slight flush on her cheeks. Despite her relaxed posture, there's a sharpness to her gaze that tells you she's far from incapacitated.

"We need to talk," you say. "About our roles here."

"What about them?"

Caitlyn steps forward, her posture straight and confident. "I want to join your patrol team."

You nod, adding, "And I want to join Sevika's scavenging group."

Grayson snorts. "If you want to join Sevika's group, why come to me? Why not ask her yourself?"

You feel your cheeks heat up as the memory resurfaces. "I did..."

Sevika stands before you, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk on her face. You've just finished explaining your request to join her team.

She laughs, the sound both mocking and somehow enticing. "If you can beat me in sparring once, sure." Her eyes rake over you. "But we both know that's not happening anytime soon, pantry girl."

"I need you to train me," you tell Grayson, determination in your voice. "Make me a better fighter. All I did was drive and fix wounds, but I know I can do more."

Grayson's eyes narrow. "How do I know I won't be wasting my time helping you two?"

Before you can respond, Caitlyn moves. In a blink, she's drawn Grayson's pistol from its holster and fired at a beer bottle perched on a table at the end of the court, shattering the bottle.

"Because we have the skills to prove it," Caitlyn says coolly, handing the gun back.

For a moment, there's silence. Then Grayson's face splits into a grin. "Alright, I'm convinced." She stands, stretching. "But today's my day off. I'll see you two at the west watchtower tomorrow morning." 

Her expression turns serious. "If you're late, don't bother asking again.  Do we have a deal?"

You and Caitlyn share a look.

“Deal.”

[mymusehatesme]

Twelve Yanderes 🩷

It was a lot of fun doing this dynamic on Twitter 🥺 pp given so many suggestions that I couldn't limit myself to just six characters >< wjdjehe I just love yanderes so much ngl

🩷 Pretty Yanderes OC's 🩷 (all in twitter):

- Keegan belongs to: @/Karu_arts_18

- Sampson belongs to: @/Arties_sauce

- Aedduard belongs to: @/Marceline_farway

- Tommy belongs to: @/TheIn_Between

[mymusehatesme]

Do you have any Jayvik fic recs?

It’s about time I did a part two of JayVik fic recs! (My first round of recommendations can be found here!)

Sleepover by Kirbily—rated E. Words cannot accurately express how much I adore this fic. Divorce Era. Jayce has taken on a ward, seven year old Amaranthine. She is, in the best possible way, a tiny terror. Jayce and Viktor are working on rekindling things, and Amaranthine is finally meeting Viktor for the first time. It’s sexy, sweet, domestic, heart wrenching. It’s literally one of my all time favorites.

I’m All Yours (You’re All Mine) by Fenfyre—rated E. Reaaaally scratches the Dom Viktor/Sub Jayce itch. Divorce Era. Jayce is abducted by some Undercity thugs. Viktor makes their pronouns past tense. Realizes that Jayce is turned on by how scary he is, drops right into Dom mode. Degradation kink, edging, bondage & gagging (someone else put them on but both of them are beyond ok with it), humiliation. Just nails the whole love/hate/sex/love life cycle of Divorce Era.

Notes on Germination and Fantasy: A Field Study by SirExcelsior—rated E. Arcane Era, 2 chapters. Heed the tags. Jayce is alone in the lab with the Hexcore. Viktor is elsewhere, thinking about Jayce. The Hexcore responds to Viktor’s thoughts, and subsequently acts on them. Good ol’ tentacle porn. I’m not usually into that, but this is done very well, in a way that is weaved into Viktor’s psyche and his longing for Jayce. Leads to realizations and confessions, and then Viktor gets to do the things he was thinking about. Lighthearted and funny and yet also super sexy.

A Guide On How To React When Your Nemesis Is Dying by TradingJack—angst, rated M for blood and gore. Divorce Era. Heed the tags. Jayce is mortally wounded in battle, and Viktor intervenes to save him. The characterization in this fic is so deliciously spot-on; Viktor is calm and collected in crisis, but you can see the notes of worry, of panic as Jayce’s condition worsens. Jayce is wary of what Viktor will do to save him, augment-wise, because he doesn’t want that. And the angst hurts so good.

That’s all folks, til next time!!!

[mymusehatesme]

any fic recs actually since uv been reading some? i’m terrified of opening ao3 and all the characters are absolutely ooc

ough yeah hold on here's my recent bookmarks i got u

[mymusehatesme]

Timebomb fics rec

A lot of timebomb fics are hiding through a lot of CaitVi/JayVik tagged works on ao3 (while many are also CV orJV centric) so i made this rec post for everyone who dont want to spent 1 hour scrolling or missing some of them bc you're filtering other ships!! (sorry for the short summaries/ i didnt write my thoughts as thoughtfully as i would have liked because.yk.time and all. update chapter count/add of new fics every week)

AU/crossovers fics

Je t'aime (Je t'attends) 3 chapter, WIP.

Hunger games x Timebomb/Arcane, the way the system of the games from the og novels are mixed in the Arcane universe is really masterful, the writer dont lose too much time explaining it but you understand the dynamics of the 2 cities and the characters perfectly anyway.

Where would you be now ? by enaven 5/6 chapters, WIP.

family/modern AU, timebomb feels, Ekko and Jinx are Isha's parents, CaitVi are just silly aunts and i'll never stop recommending this fic

you're the best thing to ever happen to me (but also the worst thing to ever happen to me) by grey_toiletpaper ( @greytoiletpaper ) 3/8 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Timebomb inspired by 10 things i hate about you.

We Moved Into a Real House (a Wild Field Behind it) by smokesatellite 3/10 chapters. WIP. Rated T.

Modern AU, Timebomb roommates/friends to lovers, Isha is a foster kid...you know where this is going .. (Ekko as a nurse is not something i expected but its surprisingly good. Also the in law feud between Jinx and Cait is very funny)

s1 fics

Silco is less of an asshole

The Heart of Zaun by 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch 8/ chapters. WIP.

or: Silco try to rally the Firelights to his cause (in this case, Zaun - he's much more involved in doing better for his city than in the show) but of course they're bound to have some..tension between them, since they hate him - and Shimmer. (it has the good parent Silco tag so i'd say that all in all, this Silco is a little less...Silco than in Arcane, but manage to keep some of the bite he has in canon...) i only read 2 chapters, and what i can say is that it does a good job with the general cast, the interactions between Silco/Ekko-Firelights are believable, i think the one thing that could have weird me out is the way Silco is said to be 'proud' of the Firelights in the summary (for me 'pride' is something he'd reserve for Jinx yk?? anyway i stop the rambling) . The Timebomb relationship has more or less the same push and pull as in the show, with Ekko thinking about the girl Jinx used to be/ Ekko being a link to the past before Jinx and all that entail...so yeah, i'm loving it!

Powder doesnt become Jinx

The Alpha Command by typewriter_in_galaxy 13 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

ABO/Reverse AU where Powder doesnt become Jinx and is raised by Viktor, Ekko is taken in by Silco. btw i dont read a lot of abo fic (im very nickpick) but this one does every characters justice, and actually dwelve in depth in the abo universe.. (everything by typewriter is good to be honest, but my favorite thing is how they write Powder, who even when she doesnt become Jinx, is still shaped by a very violent world/trauma and it shows through her mental health issues and very, very low self worth/need to prove herself. )

everything's better with a friend by typerwriter_in_galaxy 7chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Timebomb centric rewrite of Arcane, Jinx is Powder, she doesnt fall under Silco's hand (or in his arms precisely), Ekko is Ekko, and 1, i need to hug Powder, 2 she deserves the world and 3 the characterization of everyone, everyone is so brillantly written and the timebomb relationship (damn even the CaitVi one too) oh, the timebomb of it all... they feel so, so real and it hurts, Powder's insecurities, her mental illness, her guilt, her need to prove herself but in same time she doesnt feel herself worth of anything (or anyone) good... just.read it. read it, because i just did, after like 2 years of not doing that and. im like mad bc why didnt i??? but in same time so grateful to just discover it now, taking my sweet little time reading it; it rewinded my brain its amazing, (like this work in another fandom, the first time i read this rebelcaptain's fic A Love song by skitzofreak - did i just linked it for you to read even tho its a timebomb rec post??? yes. yes i did. thats how much i love, adore, worship this one guys - so everything's better made me think a lot of this TB fic, and also of RC (the abandonment issues, thinking that you have to leave first before everyone leave you, Jyn and Powder damn).

Shattered Web by Firewolf2132 1 chapter. WIP. Rated M.

you know how everyone make the comparaison between Ekko and Miles?? well, the author found a way for Ekko transform into a spiderman that feels right in the arcane verse (end of act1) and damn its so good. Ekko slowly morphing and gaining his powers while everyone still have some focus on them (mostly Powder), but it still manages to keep the suspense of the fate of other characters. fabulous. author note: [I have seen so many comparisons between Ekko and Miles and a lot of fanart. So it felt that I had to do this. I can't promise future chapters right now (busy), but I am eager to see if this inspires any stories with a similar premise.]

S2 fanfics

fics covering Timebomb moments between ep 8 Ekko saving her /they painted each other and ep9

Go Back For Her by A_Lily_In_The_Moonlight 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Ekko's pov -i only read 1 chapter - we see his thought's process on his relationship with Powder AU/ Jinx, and how he came to the conclusion he must go back to her. the moment where he help Jinx with his Z-drive comes a little differently than in ep8 (well, the aftermath) aaand another fic where Jinx's grief over Isha's death shatters me, the pain and the self loathing/blaming from Jinx really devastating.

I dont believe in God, but i believe you're my savior by mquesterminds One shot. Rated T

[summary: every time Ekko has to rewind time to stop Jinx it cuts to a different moment from throughout their love story because I'm allergic to happiness the moments covering their shared past really make their present 10 times sadder.]

I'm sure we're taller in another dimension by hallwayheart One shot. Rated M. i have nothing to say because i'm still processing what i just read.ty.

Fires That Were Set by ilophilia ( @ilophilia on tumblr) 1 chapter. WIP.

the conversation after Ekko helped Jinx in episode 8. Loved the banter, the emotions (the grief is there and its important to feel it but damn i want to hug them so bad). They tell each other what happened when Ekko was gone, and you feel the distance/the closeness, near intimacy building again and its beautiful..

Hope is a winged beast by Grey_ Unicorn 4 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

prepare you tissues because i was myself not ready for chapter 3 and the emotional wreck of Jinx processing her grief. but here we are.

fics from AU Powder pov/exchange between Jinx and AU Powder

what we left behind by re_dragon_rising 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated T.

Powder traverses to the og arcane universe 1 year after Ekko's visit. (the insight into her life after Ekko leaves is wholesome and also give the reader a glimpse of the Mylo/Claggor/Powder siblings dynamics + the impact of Vi's death on them. really great. a little sad too.)

The other Ekko by GrammarThyEnemy Oneshot. General audience.

Powder knows this Ekko is not her Ekko.

memento vivere by fuwaaa 1/2. WIP. General audience.

covering the AU episode, Powder knows something's up with Ekko.

See Ya On The Other Side by moth_dust 3/5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Powder also travel to the og universe.

these forgotten faces by whippindippin ( @whippindippin on tumblr too!) 6 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx and Powder body swap and its both the worst and best thing that could ever happen to either of them. great reading and their reaction on point.

Isha is alive

Astrantia by AelinCreativ ( @aelincreativ they're on tumblr too!) 5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

canon divergence where Ekko saves Isha. a lot of angst. but also a lot of happiness. so we can cry while smiling along with them. great. ty author!!

Ankle-Biter by darkfire1220 8/9 chapters, WIP. Rated M.

Isha is Jinx's biological daughter, Silco is a not so bad (grand) father, and their mother/daughter bond is one a the greatest thing ever. (very slowburn timebomb). Also Vi. i love you Vi.

post s2

we made our peace with weariness (and let it be) by The_FlamingTiger 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated M.

Ekko and Jinx reconnect in Bilgewater..(and Jinx goes to therapy. that too. its nice)

I don't believe in God (But I believe that you're my savior) by yeonatsu Oneshot, general audience.

Ekko is mourning.

this hunger for love won’t disappear by Amuria Oneshot, rated T.

Months after the battle for Piltover, Ekko begins to dream of Powder. He thinks it’s his grief playing tricks on him. She has different theory.

Francesca (Do You Think I'd Give Up?) by PoetProlific 2 chapters. WIP.

Ekko tries searching for Jinx...(with the help of Caitlyn, yep. and its well done, because I think Cait would help, for Vi. And i love how Ekko-Cait's dynamics might evolve because of this..)

So I met him there and told him I believe by ijustwanttoreadinpeace 3 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx begins a new life in Bilgewater but is forced to come back... (edit: be warned, this is now an orphan account so idk if there will be more chapters.)

all the 6 timebomb one shot by atabex (the other fics are not timebomb) they're all rated E and oh boy is it worth it. most of these oneshot are gut wrenching and do smut + characters so well... the most recent one is just Ekko and AU Powder ahem doing the boombayah on the rooftop, but yk, with bits of sad and tragedy here and there.

i'm a little ashamed i'm only adding it now but every TB os fics by @shroomystar is 🤌 nothing else to add because each one of them are good. so. (if you want the explicit one-shots it's here and if you prefer without, it's here )

[mymusehatesme]

which ao3 tag are you?