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About Me

Hey Guys it's been a while since I started this tumblr account. I have some updates to the rules of my page:

I'm cool with spicier scenes but I will still not be writing sex (it doesn't suit my fancy but definitely not kink shaming ;)

I cooler with cussing. A shit ton cooler.

I'll probably use more he/she pronouns in my stories (I won't forget about my non-binary friends tho!).

Feel free to make asks or write continuations to any of the stories I've written (tag me so I can see it! :). I want to see creativity in a different way than mine!

I won't entertain rude criticisms but I am always open to humanized feedback.

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Mirror, Mirror

I lose my breath staring into brilliant green eyes. I smile and look down, my cheeks heating as I’m sure she noticed the hitch in my breathing. With a few calming breaths, I take a moment to recover by examining the contents on the table in between us. A delicate silver comb rests there. On instinct I pick it up and clean it, ripping old strands out of the delicate prongs. I bring it to my scalp, and carefully brush through my fine red hair. 

I laugh when I look up and find she is doing the same thing, she silently laughs with me as if at an inside joke we’ve only just discovered. Her delicate fingers hover over her hair, following the long strokes of the comb. Her nail polish catches the light, shining with intricate patterns. 

I pause to look at my nails, perhaps in comparison. She looks at hers too. I’m pleased to see there is no difference between our nails. Annoyed I notice a little dirt under one nail and I pick it out, flicking it away. As I look up I see that she too has just completed cleaning her nails, her fingers hovering in a flicking position like mine. She smiles at me, a little laugh bubbles out of us. 

The door behind her shakes a little, I give a small frown. She turns her head over her shoulder, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. Curious I look over my own shoulder. The room behind me is everybit the mess as the one in front of me. I look around a little more noticing an eerie similarity between both rooms. I take a few steps away from her, searching the room for any difference.

It doesn’t take me long to realize something is… 

wrong. 

At a glance the room looks whole, but shift too much to the right, and objects that are three dimensional have vacant black holes where the details are not filled in quite right. I move to the left and the same thing happens. I run to the door, and throw it open, where a hallway should be there is only a deep threatening nothing. 

I stare back towards the… mirror? My mouth open in shock and horror. My gaze latches on to those brilliant eyes, which are shaped as concerned as my own. I flicker my sight to her mouth, my own chilling face smiles at me. 

With a smug swagger she leaves the room

I don’t understand… 

The room around me begins to fade, the strange two-dimensional objects diminishing like some mysterious light source were dimming, the colors slowly leached from items, seeming to fall away. I am left with a bright studio mirror and an empty darkness.

Grateful that I do not fall like the colors, I run to the mirror, pressing my hands against the glass. Willing them to go through, to prove me wrong, that there is no mirror. The room beyond is gone, there is only enough light to see the mirror’s boundaries. I have no reflection in the mirror, and looking down I cannot see my hands, and not for lack of light.

Where is my sparkly nail polish, my delicate fingers, the beautiful comb?

Though I have a thought and a feeling like I have a body, I have no physical presence. I am little more than just a thought.

The mirror ripples under my not-palms, and my face- her face, appears. I watch in horror as the upper half of my body appears, and I am forced to mimic her movements. And I realize:

I am just a reflection.

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Honesty

Hero spat blood at Villain’s face, her cheek smarting. A small smile crept onto her lips. “I found a sore spot, did I? God, those pants make your ass look great.” 

“Look here, you piece of-” Villain looked like a toddler losing control of her favorite toy. She took a deep breath. “I think that you should be a bit more cooperative especially considering…” Villain circled Hero, her hands gripping the captive’s shoulders, and swiveled the chair around. “I have your lover.” 

Hero's stomach dropped. No one was supposed to know that they were together, did they know what Olivia did? “Oh God no.” Through the one-way mirror, she saw Olivia, tied up, her eyes wide with panic and a stark white cloth gagging her.  

Villain clicked her tongue in disapproval, coming around to face Hero blocking Olivia from view forcing Hero to meet her eyes. “Did you really think you could hide this from me? From your family? What would they think? Their picture perfect, always honest, daughter with a woman?”

Hero balked all of her normal humor gone. She could take the hits, she could survive the abuse, but Olivia? “I don’t- I don’t know-” Her. The word stuck in Hero’s throat.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that?” Villain cupped a hand to her ear leaning towards Hero. Hero’s mouth gaped open, “No go on, don’t let me stop you.” A tear escaped Hero’s eye. “Incredible, I always wondered if your power affected you as well. What’s it like to be physically unable to save your woman? Lie to me Hero and I will spare her I’ll even let you walk out hand-in-hand.” 

“I don’t know h-” Hero’s throat closed on her, she gasped for air, “Please.”

Villain’s smiled, “That’s more like it.” She pressed the intercom on, “Henchman if you will?” Villain seized the back of Hero’s neck pushing her towards the floor length glass. Olivia finally coming back into view, her hands tied behind her and her hair streaking in front of her face. Olivia’s signature look of determination swiped from her in an instant as Henchman slapped her. 

“YOU BASTARD! I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL KILL YOU” Villain’s hand stroked Hero’s bruised cheek and then firmly clamped over Hero’s mouth. 

Villain leaned into Hero’s ear, “You caused this! THIS. This is your fault.”

Henchman struck again. Olivia’s chair rocked, almost tipping. All trace of determination lost from Olivia’s face, Hero could see her begging, pleading for him to stop. 

Hero shook her head vigorously, Villain struggled to keep control nails digging into Hero’s cheeks. “Tell me you’ll do anything. Promise me the world Hero.” 

Villain let go of Hero, “GO TO HELL!” Hero’s hands shook against the restraints.

Henchman struck again. Olivia’s chair tipped and slammed into the ground. 

“Anything.” Hero’s eyes never leaving Olivia. “I’ll do anything.”

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Watched

Something felt wrong. A distinct feeling of something in the darkness lurking. Waiting. The creaking of a floorboard broke the silence, echoing in the mostly empty house. A pair of eyes reflected light betraying the stalker’s position, his - because it could only be his - eyes rose in the dark from his hunched position at the top of the basement stairs. 

The door creaked open and Villain’s heart stopped in her chest, she knew she should run but he would be faster. His steps didn’t make a sound, his feet following a memorized pattern; not one floorboard groaned under his weight. He stepped into view, the flickering light casting angular shadows on his face. 

A powerful urge to protect herself overcame her freeze-response. Her eyes left Hero’s figure as she frantically reached for the cutlery drawer. The drawer slammed shut, Hero’s larger hand forcing it closed. Her left wrist abruptly captured by Hero’s firm grasp, she looked around frantically. Hero boxed her into the kitchen’s corner, the marble counter dug into her back. She tried to wrestle her wrist away, shoving a Hero’s chest with her free arm. Hero didn’t budge.

Villain’s cheeks reddened and her tears made salty tracks down her cheeks. She met his hooded eyes, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He loomed over her encompassing her vision, she flattened her palm to strike his nose bone into his brain. He caught her right hand without flinching and twisted it until she cried out. He let go of her left wrist and grabbed her jaw forcing her face up. He tilted her face to the light observing every feature.

Hero leaned in to whisper, “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful that scar makes you?” 

“Fuck off” Villain struggled to get her jaw out of his grip but Hero’s fingers just turned bruising, his palm covering her mouth. Hero twisted her arm a little farther and pulled her arm away at an awkward angle.  

He abandoned her ear and brought his sneer in front of her face. “You are nothing without me. I let you have your fun now it’s time to come home.” He twisted a fraction more and Villain whimpered. 

Hero’s laughter vibrated through her. He let up on her arm.

“I have a job for you.” Villain hung her head, her tears running over his fingers. Her free hand grasped onto his muscular arm. He let go of her arm and pulled her into his chest stroking her long black hair. Villain hated that his shirt caught her tears that her sobs muffled on his hand. His cologne filled her senses until there was just Hero. 

“Shhh. Shh. Shh.” Hero pushed back from Villain letting go of her jaw he cupped her face on either side. His large hands reminded her of how small she was in comparison. “I need you to kill Sidekick.”

Villain held Hero’s wrists lightly and shook her head in protest. 

“You must, I cannot allow them to release my secrets. They have grown wild and need to be cut down.” 

“I won’t do it.” She met his eyes now, “I’m saying no.”

Hero spoke softly as if to a child, “Tell you what. You do it or I will.” Hero stroked the thin scar on the side of her face.

Villain’s resolve crumbled, her eyes lowered, and she nodded mutely. Hero was gone in the next second.

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Would you mind writing a continuation of “villains daughter”? I really liked it

Have a beautiful and fantastic day!!!

@myst3rious-figur3 My thanks to the both of you who asked, unfortunately this isn't a long snippet, but it's some of the other characters pov and I'm honestly not sure how to write the next scene? I've sat on this almost since I posted the first snippet, but hopefully when school ends I'll be able to get through the next scene.

First Part Here

Amp stood over Amalia, a thousand thoughts going through his head. She was supposed to be normal, he had been planning to ask her out to the prom today. She probably didn’t even know he existed, but he had hoped she would say yes.

Instead she was ‘arrested’ by him and his dads, pointlessly handcuffed to a stupid hospital bed in their creepy lair.

Not cool.

She stirred briefly, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his, her face crumpled as if in slow motion, fear and then pain. Her eyelids drooped and for a few seconds she fought sleep off until it overtook her.

~~~

Tony [AKA Bombs Away] gently repositioned his arm on the table, every move was like a thousand steak knives cutting into him. He tried not to glare as José [AKA Captain Flight] fiddled with a large square cloth, “are you almost done with that?”

“Don’t be snippy.” Julian used the cloth as a barrier between them, “I’m just saying that when-”

“-If”’

“If she wakes up, you should try to see things from her perspective.”

“She made my device explode! And she tried to shoot you!!” Tony grabbed the cloth with his good hand and tugged it down, “And don’t tell me you don’t see the resemblance.”

José’s lips pressed into a thin line, “We shouldn’t jump to-”

Tony slammed his fist against the table, “Don’t. Just don’t. How long have you known? How many lives could we have saved?”

“Don’t put this on me, Tony. She is a child!”

“She’s old enough!”

José glared down at his husband, “you of all people should know better.”

~~~

Tyrone [AKA Inviso-man] studied Villain as he ripped his way through his lair, searching frantically for Amalia, presumably. He looked crazed as he yelled through the lair, flipping over beds and slamming open doors, getting more and more desperate by the minute. Villain stood ram-rod still, reacting to a sound Tyrone couldn’t hear. Tyrone flipped through the security feed in Villain’s lair, and saw his comrades and himself storming through the lair.

Tyrone paused and found Amalia at the gun range, the gun was practically a mile off, but she hit the target every time. He saved that clip. He pressed play on Villain, and a grin over took him as he saw Villain tear apart a room without moving.

“Like father, like daughter.”

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Out of the Frying Pan

You can read this as a stand alone but be it known: there is an incomplete backstory to this posted called ‘Sidekick ‘Clued In’’ I do plan on completing the back story and then moving forward with the plot. The story is far from finished.

Sidekick, blindfolded, struggled against unknown assailants as they were pulled out of the trunk of a car. Merciless fingers, impervious to their struggles, dug into their biceps.This isn’t working. Desperately, Sidekick stopped struggling, turning into dead weight. The attackers swore as Sidekick’s face met gravel. 

Sidekick tried rubbing the blindfold off, but the henchmen yanked them back upright. They were half-dragged, half-pushed into what sounded like a building. Sidekick’s stomach turned when their progression halted. They tried to pull themselves upright. The same forceful hands pushed them back down, banging their knees. That would leave a mark. The blindfold abruptly ripped from their face, bright sun piercing their eyes. 

“Right on time. Throw them in the tank.” The Villain was sitting off to their left, barely glancing in Sidekick’s direction. The dismissive tone of their words stung, reminding Sidekick there was no glory in their current position. The Hero, The Villain, even the adoring crowds rarely acknowledged their contributions. Sidekick was sick of it. It didn’t matter that Sidekick was almost a full-fledged hero themselves.

The henchmen’s fingers dug into Sidekicks armpits as they sought leverage to once again haul Sidekick a few inches off their knees. Sidekick struggled more frantically when they saw ‘the tank.’ It was approximately eight feet tall with a square four foot base. The walls were made of plexiglass--all the better to watch them drown. 

Sidekick used their feet to grasp the wide stairs that surrounded the tank. It nearly wrenched their arms from their sockets--a contrast to earlier. Sidekick gritted their teeth and closed their eyes against the pain, groaning instead of crying out. 

Their eyes snapped open when they heard chains clanking. They had reached a small platform at the top, where two sets of manacles, each attached to an iron ball, waited for them. 

One of the henchmen abruptly shoved Sidekick onto the ground, their knee coming to rest on Sidekick’s spine. Sidekick bucked violently. The henchman put their hand on the back of Sidekick’s neck, pinning them in place. The other henchman snapped manacles on Sidekick's wrists. The sound of the lock clicking into place was deafening in Sidekick's ears. Their view was swimming as they took in the water splashing against the sides of the glass. 

The busy henchman tossed one of the iron balls into the tank, the other henchman released their hold on Sidekick’s neck and their knee from Sidekick’s back. The heavy weight of the iron ball abruptly pulled them in the direction of the tank. Sidekick’s fingers grasped for purchase on the sides of the tank. A foot on their back shoved them forward. 

They fell head first in the small tank, water burning their nose. The second iron ball rolled in after them, yanking their left hand down. Sidekick struggled to right themselves, their eyes burning as they were opened to the cold water. Panic laced their movements, the need for air throbbing in their head. They used the glass to push themselves upwards, breaching the water, dragging in desperate gulps of air. 

They were thrust back down by their wrists. Sidekick could see now the purpose of the balls and chains: they would have to struggle for each breath. The chains were just the right length to where Sidekicks arms would have to be straight at their side not moving as their legs beat a hard rhythm to tread the water. They breached the water again, this time the balls staying at the base of the tank, and they kicked furiously to keep just their nose above water.

The Villain had rolled their chair over, a couple feet from Sidekick’s writhing form, watching them curiously. They held up a large artist's pad, the words written in a bold font, The hero should be here soon. Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll trade themselves for you. Sidekick had to plunge back underwater to read it. 

The Villain looked damn smug about the situation. Sidekick banged the side of their fist on the unyielding glass. Even more than the anger Sidekick felt about The Villain was the sick feeling in their gut as they realized they were going to die. The Hero would never ‘trade’ with The Villain, no, The Hero would let them die, like they did with their last sidekick. The Villain was new here, however, and didn’t know that. 

Sidekick would not go down that way, not after being so close to a promotion to hero.

Sidekick was anything but calm as they realized they only had one option, one chance to get out of this alive. They stopped trying to reach air altogether. Using the chains they pulled themselves to the bottom. They stared down The Villain as they blew their last breath out and then sucked in as deeply as they could. The Villain's calm was gone; they sat forward, watching the Sidekick with a certain amount of awe. Uncapping their sharpie, they wrote quickly. 

What R U Doing?

Sidekick’s airway involuntarily closed, and they struggled to open it again.

Where Do U Think This Will Get U?

They needed to convince The Villain, they had to prove that they would kill themself if they were not taken out of this tank. The Sidekick wrapped the chains around their torso and placed one of the balls in their lap to keep from floating to the top when they passed out. The Villain rapped on the glass, with their sharpie, pressing the sketch pad to the glass. 

Drowning Hurts!! 

Sidekick closed their eyes, praying The Villain wouldn’t let them die. After all, no one wanted to trade for a dead body. Please let me be right, they thought to themselves, though it didn’t really matter if they were. 

The Sidekick’s lungs spasmed and they inhaled more water, their lungs now filled, they desperately wanted air, but in the end it wouldn’t save them. It hurt for a few more seconds, which felt like an eternity. But the pain subsided as their body blocked it out and their mind accepted that they were going to die.

~

They felt The Villain’s lips leave theirs as lava poured out of their lungs. Everything burned. The Villain turned them on their side so Sidekick could cough up water without choking on it. The Villain kept a hand on their waist to keep them from falling flat. 

When most of the water had made its way up, Sidekick thought to say some witty banter, like ‘if you wanted to kiss me you could have just asked. No need to drown me.’ But words failed them as they coughed violently. The Villain helped Sidekick into a sitting position. Sidekick’s muscles strained with the effort it took to hold themselves up.

The Villain sat next to Sidekick, still breathing hard and soaking wet, “Well that was stupid.”

Sidekick was still coughing, though much weaker. A half laugh burst out of them, which turned into  hacking. They smiled with a little too much teeth. “But I’m out of the tank.” 

The Villain laughed then, really laughed, a snort accompanying it. “True enough.” They stood slowly, resuscitation having taken its toll on their body. They put a hand on Sidekicks shoulder. “Can you stand?” 

They didn’t wait for a reply, hauling them up by their arm. Sidekick cried out, their arms bruised. 

The Villain mumbled an apology, which surprised Sidekick a great deal. A villain apologizing to a sidekick? The Villain quickly moved to brace Sidekick’s sagging body, wrapping their arm around Sidekick’s waist and slinging Sidekick’s arm around their shoulders. “Clear out, we’re leaving,” they said to their henchmen.

Sidekick’s eyes widened. “What about The Hero?” they croaked out, barely more than a whisper, but they continued, “You’re letting me go?” Hope sprang in their chest.

“No,” The Villain laughed, which vibrated to Sidekick. If Sidekick wasn’t still coughing, they might feel shy as to how gorgeous they were. Their grip on Sidekick’s waist tightened a little. “You’re far too entertaining to give up.” 

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Soon enough they were in front of the car that had brought them in. The Villain opened the car door. “Now, get in the car.”

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Villain’s Daughter

Couple Things: Amalia’s weakness is touching metal, but enchanted metal acts differently, because once it takes on characteristics of magic it can no longer deter magic. 

Content Warning: Blood, mentions of murder, a fight scene. 

The ricochet of the gun pumped to the beat of her pop music. Amalia didn’t bother with aiming the gun to the center of the target, that wasn’t the purpose of this training. She altered the path of the bullets the second they left the chamber, they hit the chest on the black outline of the man, almost every time. 

Without using her magic, she was a terrible shot. Her father called her cheating ways a ‘horrendous life ending habit.’ 

Would have thought he would be more supportive of my choices, especially considering he does it too. 

While her father had almost the same gifts as her, he lacked a great deal of creativity. He wasn’t wrong about this habit potentially leaving her open to weakness though. The very thing she had control of, had control over her. When she touched the metal of the gun it cut her off from her powers. 

Her dad was right when he said, “you’re not always going to have gloves close by.” 

But she was also right when she shot back, “Then I’ll just hold the gun up with my powers.” 

She didn’t today though, that would be a waste of magic on a perfectly good day. 

Lost in thought she stopped counting the bullets. The gun clicked empty. Amalia’s arm swung down, prepared for a kick back that never came. Her fingers jammed against the small table.

“Ow, Dang it!”

She felt the magic slip out of her before she could stop it. The butt of the gun melted, and with a burning heat it pooled over her gloved hand. She solidified the mess of metal, grasping her arm and biting her lip at burns now forming. Tears leaked out as the healing magic embedded in her arm worked at the skin, the magic left it tingling in a nauseating way.

Taking off her glove, she flexed her hand inspecting her skin, and observing how the enchanted metal that acted as bones underneath colored parts of her hand in gray.

Just great. Now I’ll get an hour lecture from dad as he teaches me how to return the gun to its original shape. Fabulous.  

She slipped the sound resistant headphones off, to rest around her neck. She pulled her mane of curly hair out from under the headphones, wincing as her fingers got caught in a tangle. With some reluctance, she put the glove back on, the melted gun clinging to the fabric, and made her way to her father. 

She pulled open the door to her dad’s office. She let it swing shut behind her. “Hey Da-” 

The door across the office slammed open. Spandex and bright colors assaulted her eyes. Instinct kicked in. Bad instincts. She lifted the gun, putting pressure on her trigger finger, the melted metal didn’t give the familiar click.

Bang.

She felt the metal approaching her before she realized the bullet didn’t come from her gun.

Oh, crap.

For the second time that day, her magic got away from her. It radiated from her chest, all the metal around her melting and evaporating into the air. The concentrated bubble of the evaporated bullet hit her square in the chest. 

She stumbled backwards, it felt like a punch to her chest. She threw her hand up to cover the bruising area, gasping for air that refused to reach her lungs.

Slide down the door and act like your dying. 

Her back hit the door with a thud, and she slid down slowly, still gasping for air. 

“You…” She cocked her head to the side, scrunching her face as she slid down the door. “You shot me?” 

Captain Flight, or as dad calls him, Tweety Bird, stared at her with a brief moment of shock. He approached her slowly. The feathers at the top of his wings flared up, reminding her very much of the way the hair on the back of a dog stood up when threatened.

“Amalia?” The masked hero’s voice sounded confused, he sounded familiar.

Amalia pretended to be spasming, pulling one leg up to her chest and stretched the other in front of her. She gasped loudly, nails digging into her chest. Tweety Bird was almost close enough… 

Now!

In a quick movement she snapped her bent leg out, pushing her foot into Tweety Birds knee. His eyes widened as he fell, his leg bending backwards. He screamed. His hands gripped right above his knee. His large white wings fanned out on the ground. 

His partner hero, Bombs Away, whipped towards the sound. He reacted quickly, throwing a small device her way. It had metal in it. His mistake. She pushed it back towards his hand. It exploded. His hand and forearm turned into red mist. Horrified, Amalia turned to the last Hero not screaming on the ground. Amp. 

Almost a completely useless Hero.

Amp rushed her. He brandished no metal weapon. Quickly thinking Amalia ‘tugged’ magically at Tweety’s gun, it whipped into her hand while forming into a baton. She shoved off the floor. His fist flew towards her face. She dogged it, whipping her baton into his arm as hard as she could. His arm cracked. She beat the baton into the back of his knee, bringing him toppling down. She slammed her baton into the back of his neck, knocking him out.

Hearing a shuffle behind her she turned, Inviso-man stood behind her. The butt of his gun slammed into her forehead before she could react. 

Her world went black.

~~~

She woke up with a pounding headache. Her arms made jangling sounds above her head. Her hands flopped uselessly. She couldn’t feel them. She was half hanging from cuffs attached to a metal railing, half lying on the floor. Her body shook as she engaged her biceps to lift herself into a proper sitting position. Her side screamed at her, having been stretched awkwardly for too long. Relief flooded her as she stopped moving. 

It was short lived.

“I’m trapped in a van. With a dying body- person. Not cool - not cool - so not cool.” The van was devoid of anything more than four superheroes passed out on the floor. Bones bent at sickening angles turned her stomach. Bombs Away was bleeding out from their arm. 

Panic clawed at her, I never wanted to be their enemy! She stared at them in shock, eyes watering. She began pulling at the cuffs with desperation. With a cry of pain, her right arm, made of metal bones, ripped out of its cuff, skin bruising and tearing while her metal bones stood strong. 

Tears streamed down her face as she ripped the next cuff off with her fingers. Blood dripped down her hand, the enchanted metal visible, her skin beginning to kit together. She stared at it far too long, her breath coming faster and faster. She struggled to regain a hold of herself, but as her morbid curiosity overtook her, she looked at the heroes she had taken down. 

Her stomach threatened to come up. 

Her mind screamed at her to leave; to get away before reinforcements showed up. She shut her eyes against the awful scene, but her instincts made her open them again. Her father’s words returning to her, never take your eyes off the enemy. 

Are they really my enemy? “I never wanted this.” she whispered, her head shaking no, a bloody hand over her mouth. Unable to look any more, despite her father’s teaching, she slammed her eyes shut and forced her legs to push her up. She slowly made her way to the door, opening her eyes only when her back was fully turned to the heroes. As her hand grasped the door handle when a small moan came from behind her. 

She turned to Bombs Away, bleeding out onto the floor, if she left now, he would bleed out and die. She will have killed him. 

What should I do?? Father would tell me to run. Her hand gripped the handle harder. I don’t want to be a murder though; I don’t want to be my dad!

But the amount of power it would take to heal him would leave me… vulnerable. How would a group of four heroes treat a Villain's daughter?

Amelia knew how desperate heroes could get to stop Villain, how far they were willing to go to claim every advantage. But these heroes had been in the area a while, and in fascination she had studied them. She didn’t think they would physically hurt her- in a more controlled situation -and Tweety bird seemed to know her. 

Do I save them? Or do I run? They already have my fingerprints from the car - I’d likely have to face them at some point. Indecision squeezed at her gut until finally, she remembered something her science professor said every day at the end of class, ‘Helping others is the way we help ourselves.’ It was stupidly cheesy, but who will protect the city against people like her dad if Bombs Away dies and Tweety has a lame leg? Certainly not Amp. 

Slowly, she pried her fingers off the handle, and keeping her eyes down to avoid anything other than the task at hand, she kneeled next to Bombs Away’s injury. The puddle of blood around her rippled with her movements. She tried not to think as she took in the injuries she had caused. 

Leaning over his body she placed her left hand on his other arm, scanning the dimensions of his bones. Then, ripping out a chunk of metal out of the van’s bed with her mind, she formed the metal into a flipped replica of his bones. Sweat beaded on her brow as she worked on replicating the delicate bones of his hands. 

Her left hand hovered over the metal, providing a visual aid to help her mind direct the magic. She was so used to doing this one handed, it was strange to attempt this feat on another human being. She tried to block out thoughts of the tragic accident that left her with a now dead Hero’s healing magic and an artificial arm. Her right arm hung limply at her side. She swayed a little when she finally set her replica down. 

With shaking, blood stained, fingers, she pulled her faux-leather belt off. She opened the hero’s mouth and placed the leather in between his teeth. She didn’t want him cracking his teeth or biting his tongue off if he woke up during the procedure. 

She pulled up another piece of metal this time shaping it into a small thin disc. She scanned the half arm, locating the best place to saw, right at the elbow. She needed the bones to be wholly metal or wholly bone, anything half bone, half metal would snap too easily. 

She spun the metal, bringing it down to the soft inner arm of his elbow. 

Wait. I’m smarter than this. 

Though she stopped spinning the floating metal, the room still spun as she searched for a tourniquet. There! Inviso-man, who never seemed to be invisible, was wearing a belt. She twisted around and feeling like a creep for she unhooked his belt and pulled it off him. 

She turned around and made a tourniquet above Bombs Away’s elbow and brought the still floating metal to his elbow. She willed it to spin. Half-way through, his eyes flipped open, wide with pain. Panicked she stopped sawing, leaving the metal half embedded into his arms. He gave her a look of such rage, she wondered if this was a good idea after all. He tried to sit up but forgetting his missing arm he slammed back down.

Crap, crap, crap!!! I should have pinned him down with metal. 

Her brain was almost too exhausted to think. 

Moving as quickly as she could, she slapped her hand to his forehead, willing a tiny bit of healing magic to put him to sleep. He shot her another look that promised revenge before he slipped into unconscious. Beginning her work again she levitated the metal bone structure to line up properly, checking his other arm again to be sure. 

She willed binding tendons to attach the metal bones to his actual bones. She willed his flesh to grow over the metal bones. She stopped before she made him fingertips. This was the hard part; the part that would leave her sick for days. 

She pressed her own fingertips into his metal ones and pushed some of her metal magic into the metal. She cried out as she felt the pain of magic leaving her, enchanting objects was so rarely done because it was most often lethal. The healing power, that truly didn’t belong to her, would preserve her from dying from the sickness. Probably.  

At some point in the process, she must have passed out, because she awoke passed out on Bomb’s Away. Grateful everyone else was still unconscious, she finished healing him. She didn’t have enough in her to grow his fingernails, but those would grow on their own later.

She removed the tourniquet from his arm and the belt from his mouth. She turned from him, wavering back and forth. Her eyes met Amp’s. 

He was staring intently at her, he had only an eye mask covering his face. It was a chiseled, handsome face. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger, his nostrils flared, but his mouth was contorted with confusion. He shifted, moaning in pain. He crawled over to her, she sat motionless, fear twisting in her gut. If she moved now, she was going to lose her gut. 

He grasped her arm, a strange feeling trickled in under her skin. It grew swiftly, magic. Amp’s name suddenly made sense to her. He amplified people’s magic; he could give his reserves of magic to other people to allow them to go on for longer. He was doing so now. Her eyes widened in shock. 

Maybe not so useless after all. 

“Heal.” He commanded. 

She nodded, the dizziness fading a little, “This is going to hurt, a lot.” He nodded. She picked up the leather belt and pressed it into his mouth. He bit down. She grabbed his arm, the one she had broken. Her gut twisted, as with a sickening crunch she reset it. 

He fell towards her, screaming, she gritted her teeth, willing herself not to topple backwards. She shoved her, his, healing magic into his arm. The arm settled into place, bone which had chipped off under his skin sliced through flesh to return to its original position. Bone mended; flesh re-grew; it was done. 

With a final burst of power to her, Amp passed out. One last goal before she could follow suit. Tweety’s Knee.

She took the leather belt from Amp’s mouth and crawled on all fours to Tweety. For the final time, she shoved the belt into Tweety’s mouth. 

She had a harder time resetting his knee, his leg was heavy and difficult to move, she fell forward a couple of times before successfully snapping the leg back in place. A couple snaps of bone later, she had it prepped and ready for healing. She poured the last of the magic Amp had given her into Tweety’s knee. 

She leaned back, against the side of the van before she passed out.

[revrevrew-writblr]

Keep Your Enemies Closer

Villain walked into the cafe, and smiled, Dillian was cute. She had worn casual clothes for the miniature date, she wasn’t sure how much Dillian knew so she was trying to humanize herself. She held an air of the usual blond party girl, smiling at everything- because everything was a party, but really she was nervous. Dillian made eye contact and smiled, checking her out, without leering as if just observing. She lost her breath, she smiled and looked down and then back up. How she wished that was part of the act, a blush reached up her cheeks. He smiled brighter, was he laughing at her? She wondered if he was laughing with or at her.

She sat across from him, in a high stool, thankful about the distance. She wasn’t sure she could make out with him again as she had last night. She had had too much to drink, and it had been nice to be held. He had been a gentleman however, unwilling to go more than a few kisses with a drunk girl, “It’s not nice to laugh at beautiful women.” She said flirtatiously, looking him in the eye while she said it. 

“Lucky for me you’re not beautiful,” He smiled at her shocked expression, but hurried on, “you’re gorgeous.” Her heart fluttered a little, he was so confident as he said it, “Anyhow I got you a drink,” he slid it over to her on a napkin, and took a drink of his own coffee.

She set the drink aside and picked up the napkin, opening it and looking it over on both sides. He laughed, a deep sound that didn’t help her nerves, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m checking to make sure there aren’t any instructions on it.” She said examining it closer now for effect. Last night he had called her a taxi and, knowing she might be too drunk to remember, he put his phone number and the time he would be at the cafe waiting for her on a napkin.  

“Hum, none, too bad,” she leaned in close, with her hands clasped and elbows on the table, “I would have kissed you.” She heard it then, his breath hitching for a second, she leaned back, pleased that he was as put off by her as she was by him. 

He regained himself quickly now, leaning forward just as she had, “I think you might still.” An impish smile played at the corner of his lips. 

She was glad she had worn makeup now because it would cover all the heat she felt rushing to her cheeks. She made a confused face and said turning over the napkin, “No, it doesn’t say that on the napkin, sorry babe can’t do it.” She pushed him on his shoulder till he sat back laughing. She rearranged the napkin, searching for something to do while they laughed. She picked up the coffee, “Very bold for a first date,” she said referring to him ordering for her. 

“One must be all kinds of bold when they’re on a date.” His eyes played out different meanings. 

“Oh?” Innocence covered her voice, “this is a date?” 

“You’re words not mine.” He said seeing he had won this line of flirting. 

The Villain searched for a response, “Well perhaps I was being an equivocator.” She smirked, bringing the coffee to her lips. She immediately regretted trying the coffee, it was sickly sweet. She must have made a face, perhaps her first genuine reaction to this ‘date,’ because he laughed and apologized, ‘serves me right for assuming anything about you’ he had said. She wondered briefly if it had had a double meaning, she wouldn’t hope for that though.

The rest of the date went very smoothly, and the villain soon found that she was enjoying herself. It was intoxicating dating the enemy, like jumping off a cliff hoping that the hang glider would work. She hadn’t been with many other people in so long, never allowing anyone to get close, she would just use them against her. 

She was excited to go on their next date. 

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The hero had strength on his side as he shoved her against the wall, “Stop seeing Dillion, he’s a good kid and you’ll just mess him up.” 

“Wow, what about what Dillion wants? Do you think he’s so easily corruptible?” She laughed, her bravado never ceasing. Dillion and her had been on three official dates and she wasn’t intending to stop. 

Villain teleported them to an open area of the old rusty barn. She used his moment against him. As he fell forward she ripped herself out of his grasp and shoved him forward. She didn’t leave though, “I would have thought, you would enjoy a way to spy on me. Tell me, how is Tasha?” She asked him about his wife. She had no intention of hurting Tasha, Tasha could make you feel like you had the stars in your eyes. And honestly? She didn’t really want to hurt Hero either. She didn’t want to be the villain.

Hero stood now dusting himself off, he didn’t lunge for her though, “If you have loved anyone like I love Tasha, you’ll leave her alone. This is between you and me.” 

“You are so blind, it disgusts me.” She said every word with venom, Why doesn’t he see?! She held a far off look in her eyes, she said calmly, “Thank you John, I’ll see you Tuesday, it’ll be nice to be formally introduced.” She teleported home, screaming at the pain it brought her. 

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Dillion kissed her when he opened the door to his flat to let her in, she kissed him back, wondering briefly if she would stop loving him at some point. She hoped not. She hoped so.

“Alright, are you ready?” He asked breathlessly when he pulled away, “they’re all here, they can’t wait to meet you.” 

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I’ll love them, I know it.” She didn’t really believe that though, she was walking into the lion's den and she knew it. She wished she could just be Dillion's girlfriend, not the villain dating Dillion. 

Dillion gilded her into the living room, his hand on the small of her back, his casual smile in place. He smiled at everything. She couldn’t get enough of his smiles. She looked at his friends, her eyes falling on Tasha and her welcoming demeanor. Villain smiled, feeling a stabbing guilt, as she realized Hero probably told Tasha who she was. She glanced at John, and her face fell a little, but she was putting on a show for the other unfamiliar faces, so her grin was pinned on her face. 

Dillion looked at the group, and using Villain’s fake name, said, “Hey guys, this is Mia. Mia, this is the guys.” He said guys like one would say boi, a gender neutral pronoun. 

She shook hands with all eight of them, Hero's grip stronger than necessary, and for Tasha a hand shake wasn’t good enough; she pulled Mia in for an embrace. Mia felt tears rise, and she blinked them away. 

Dillion ushered her to the love seat and the games began. They played charades, which Dillion was surprisingly good at, and John sat with his arms crossed the entire time. Party pooper, Mia thought to herself. They moved on to cards, and someone broke the wine out, and Mia had a small glass. 

They were playing B.S. and she was crushing it. After winning, with a great deal of fanfare from Dillion’s friends calling her the ‘chosen one,’ presumably alluding to Dillion’s love life. Which had made Mia blush furiously and Dillion kissed her while his friends made ‘ooo’ sounds in the background. 

“Of course you would win at the lying game.” John sneered, a bit too loudly as he hadn't meant for anyone to hear him. 

Mia’s smile slid from her face, her mouth going tight, she was angry and ashamed. She didn’t look at John, but she could feel Dillion’s response as his muscles coiled. She had a gripping fear in her, that she didn’t know she had. She would not let Dillion sever some of his friendships over her, and she would not let him give up too much of himself to her, liar that she was. 

Dillion spoke stiffly at John, “Just what are you implying?” 

“I think Mia would need to tell you that.” John said cool under the pressure of his best friend's challenging gaze. 

Dillion looked at Mia confused, he wanted to trust her, she could see that, but he trusted John’s council. Mia understood, it wasn’t him choosing between John or her, but rather Dillion trying to figure out what was going on. Dillion asked so softly, “Mia?...” 

A lie sprung to her lips, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, she had lied too much to Dillion, and she hated it everytime. She would not say she was a villain though, because that too would be a lie. She settled on a half truth. 

“Okay, I lied when I said it was nice to meet John, because we have already met and we really don’t like each other.” Mia glared at John, “And I thought being a good girlfriend would look like trying to hold it together, so you wouldn’t end up needing to choose between your best friend and me.” She looked back at Dillion now, gauging his reaction, if he really believed it. 

Dillion frowned, “You don’t ever need to lie to protect me Mia, I’ll not choose between either of you,” he smiled, “I’m greedy like that.” He kissed her again, “besides the day is pretty much over and it's time for all my friends to go home.” 

John was steaming as he left, Tasha was angry, but not at Mia as she hugged her on the way out. His other friends made off with all but one bottle of wine, his friend winked at Dillion as he set the single bottle on the table.

Dillion and Mia had already talked about sex though, and they had no plans for that anytime soon. Which is why, after Dillion had tried in vain to get to the bottom of Mia’s dislike of John, when Mia declared ‘I’m tired, and you should be a good boyfriend and let me sleep with you.’ Both of them knew there was no double meaning. 

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Mia woke up with a start, dreams of her sister’s cruelty plaguing her, she detached herself from Dillion’s arms. She could tell he was dead out, confident that he was not a light sleeper, she began to search his house. She needed to know how much he knew. She suspected nothing based on last night's performance, but a twisting in her gut told her otherwise. 

After searching high and low, and finding nothing out of the ordinary she almost gave up. Until she did a second search of his desk in his bedroom and found a false bottom in a drawer. She pulled out pictures and pictures of John in different costumes, and then pictures of him fighting her. She took the pictures to the living room, where early sunlight was coming through the window, she looked at them slowly now. Her eye caught on on a picture that showed her face after having teleported. Her anguish was evident under the eye-mask. 

The next photo was of her unmasked, in her house. Dread filled her, How dare he lie to me. How dare me for loving him even still. She felt Dillion’s presence at the entrance to the living room. She looked at him, he was all out of smiles now. Something wet dripped onto her arm, she looked up to see the source of the leak, then she felt it, and put her hand to her tears in a confused sort of wonder. She had not cried in a while. He was sitting next to her now, when had that happened? He was speaking words and wiping her tears away.

Of course it was all a lie. He had sought me out, had sent me a drink at that bar, and had engineered a relationship. Skies forbid someone should actually love me. 

She didn’t want this relationship to end, because when it did she would have nothing. She found a humourless laugh bubbling out of her, Dillion looked at her so confused - tears on his own face, she had engaged in a relationship she knew could not last, one that her sister would suspect as part of a plot, to have someone to hold her. She had deliberately hurt Dillion to heal herself, and here she was angry that he had used this relationship to his gain as well. 

“You knew.” Mia spoke without feeling, and then laughed again. Harder this time, “Tell me was it all a lie?” 

“It was at first, but Mia, I found out who you really were along the way.” Dillion pleaded with her, hands on her shoulders, “Mia I love you.”

“No Dillion, you don’t, and I don’t love you.” She knew that if her sister even caught a wisp of the truth of this situation, she would kill Dillion. She shoved his hands off her shoulders, scared that her sister might be watching even now. She stiffened as her phone rang from her bra. She pulled it out, and sucked in her ragged voice to sound as regular as she could. 

“Mia speaking.” She told Dillion to be quiet with her finger to her lips. 

“I need a report, right now. Plans are moving and I need information on John. Find an out to whatever you’re doing and get here right now.” 

Her sister didn’t wait for a reply before she hung up. Dillion’s eyes were wide, she was sure that he couldn’t have heard, right? 

“Mia don’t go. Who was that?” Dillion took her shoulders again, “Please don’t go.” 

“I’ll deal with you later. Watch your back Dillion.” She knew that would do the trick, John wouldn’t leave Dillion’s side. She teleported to her sister. 

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[revrevrew-writblr]

The Enforcer

Damsel was different from everyone else. Villain couldn’t even begin to fathom how they had won Damsel, but here Damsel was, holding their hand and leaning into Villain as they laughed together.

Villain’s smile widened as they realized they had finally gotten the best of Hero, because Villain had Heroes’ Damsel, and for the first time it wasn’t because Villain had kidnapped them. Hero was so crushed when Damsel left them, they entirely gave up trying to save the city. Crime is so much easier with only the sad excuse for a police force is left to defend the people. 

Damsel of course was still one of the ‘good guys,’ but Villain was slowly whittling them down; soon Damsel would be a grade-A villain. 

Villain kissed Damsel on the temple as, fondly, they remembered Damsel’s very first heist. 

Villain had taken Damsel out for a walk and an ice cream. When time came to pay the vendor, however, Villain was left patting every pocket on their shirt and jeans. They could have sworn it had been in their jacket, and now the ice cream date was ruined. They gave Damsel a worried look, betraying their mistake. 

But Damsel had a small smile on their face. As they snatched up the ice cream, ignoring the vendor, they squeaked ‘Run!’ and pushed Villain onward. Damsel and Villain had sprinted two blocks to the park where they hid in a little bundle of trees, laughing breathlessly. Ice cream was all over Damsel’s hands, the heat of the day having melted most of it during their escape. Still, they offered one to Villain, grinning.

They were so beautiful. Villain pushed Damsel into a tree, hands entwining in their hair. The cups tumbled to the ground now, forgotten, as Villain stole a breathtaking kiss. 

Damsel was a better person with Villain, looser. Funner. Villain relished the changes. Damsel had asked Villain to stop robbing banks, and Villain had agreed, lying with a twinge of regret. They would do almost anything for Damsel, except for that. Villainy called to them. Damsel was a little dense, never questioning Villain’s honesty, but that worked for their relationship quite well.

Damsel was always ‘broadening their horizons,’ which Villain readily entertained. They wouldn’t have bothered with anyone else, but Damsel was different. Damsel was worth more. So, when Damsel took them to new restaurants, new street fairs and events with soaps and jewelry, new gaming events--Villain couldn’t help but come along. Damsel had a way of asking for things that made Villain unable to disagree. It wasn’t until Villain had nearly scalded their finger trying to put on a copper ring that they called off any new jewelry. Damsel had backed off from new things after that, picking up more hours at work.

Villain wasn’t mad about losing time with Damsel, because it gave them more time to look for Damsel’s elusive ex. Villain wasn’t a murderer, but for Hero they would make an exception.

Hero had brought Damsel into the limelight, making them an easy target for villains looking to get a piece of Hero. When Damsel had come to their senses and broken up with Hero, Villain had found Damsel with rope burns on their wrists and bruises on their cheek and arms. Villain had asked Damsel what Hero had done to them. Damsel’s reply?

Hero didn’t come.

Damsel had been kidnapped by villains, hurt, and Hero hadn’t come to save Damsel. Villain relished the thought of Heroes’ blood on their hands. Hero would pay for Damsel’s pain a thousand times over. The only problem with this plan, the problem that kept Villain up late for hours during the night, was that Hero was nowhere to be found.

Damsel pulled Villain up onto a small patio and pulled their face down to kiss them, jarring Villain from their thoughts.

What would they do without Damsel? At first, they were sure Damsel would eventually leave them. The villain never gets the Damsel and all that. But now they couldn’t be convinced that Damsel would ever leave them. Villain grinned when they pulled back from the kiss and Damsel followed their mouth up as far as Damsel’s height would let them. 

“Alright, this is your friend’s house?” Villain gestured to the small house on a busy street. 

Damsel nodded. “You ready?” They straightened Villain’s jacket. 

As I’ll ever be. Villain was confident that, whoever Damsel’s friend was, they wouldn’t be as full of life as Damsel. For Damsel though, they would be on their best behavior. They knocked on the door and put an arm around Damsel’s shoulders. 

The purple door swung inward and Friend opened the door. “Honey, they’re here!” they called over their shoulder. They smiled widely and Damsel embraced them.

“Villain this is Friend, Friend this is Villain,” Damsel said gesturing to the two as they spoke.

Villain shook Friend’s hand, mimicking the strength of their grip. “It’s a pleasure to meet you; Damsel talks about you all the time.” 

“And you! Come on in, the games are all ready downstairs. Follow me.”  When Damsel didn’t immediately follow, Villain took Damsel’s hand in theirs and pulled them into the house. Villain liked how Damsel’s hand fit in theirs.

It’s safe to say Villain never saw it coming. 

Villain felt a strange pinch in their back--what was that? Villain put their hand to their back. It hit something metal. They grasped it, fingertips slicing open, a wave of nausea roiling in their stomach as the metal jostled in their skin. 

I’ve been stabbed.

Villain’s knees buckled. Their hand fell away from Damsel’s. Friend was there, hugging Villain to hold them up. Villain screamed as the effects of the copper blade took hold on their skin. In their skin. 

 In desperation, in stupidity and shock, they reached for their powers, even as the copper burned them. Pain flared up across their skin, and they were too late. They couldn’t get their powers to work. No, no no. It was like losing a limb.

Villain braced themselves to rip the copper from their back. 

One. Two. Thr--

Friend shoved the blade into Villain. Villain’s bloody fingers searched for the handle, but the entire thing had embedded itself in their body. No handle? They would have to push it through their abdomen to get it out. Impossible. Friend pulled them down the stairs the rest of the way.   

Damsel, where’s Damsel! Their mind latched onto this. They tried to push Friend, groaning. Friend stumbled a little, but they shoved Villain back. Villain cried out, pain like lightning shooting through them. Their knees would have buckled beneath them if Friend wasn’t holding them up. Villain longed to feel their comforting power, sweat dripping down their face. 

They screamed through their teeth, “where’s Damsel?! What have you done with them?!” Villain panicked, thinking of all the horrible things that could be happening to Damsel. 

Villain used all their strength to shove back. Friend used their forward momentum to slam them into the wall. Spots formed in Villain’s eyes, dazing them for precious moments. 

Villain was brought back to reality by a fierce burning sensation on their wrists. They had been chained to the wall, the copper chains accounting for the burning. Face down on the floor, Villain used their bound hands to move into a kneeling position. They rolled back onto their feet, preparing to stand. Their balance was thrown off by a sharp pain from their wound. They fell on their butt, crying out when they hit the cement. Villain scooted to lean up against the wall.

 Breathing hard, Villain squinted trying to see farther into the dimly lit room. Something was moving, but they couldn’t tell what.The light abruptly came on. Villain closed their eyes to block it out, opening them slowly to adjust to the brightness. They looked up. 

Villain felt relief when they saw the back of Damsel’s form at a nearby table. How the roles are reversed. Damsel would save them. They cried out, trying to alert Damsel to the situation.

“I have waited so long for this day.” Damsel spoke like they were astounded at the words. They turned around. Villain expected concern, panic, even fear. Not the familiar face of triumph etched in Damsel’s features. The face reserved for when a heist went the way Villain had planned, or when Villain stood over Heroes’ prone form. Villain had wondered how that face would look like on Damsel so many times. A sick feeling curdled through Villain.

“Damsel, what’s going on?” Villain’s mind struggled to understand. A clanking sound to their left distracted Villain, and they took their eyes off Damsel’s unnerving expression.

Hero was gagged, chained to the same wall the Villain was. Hero was shirtless and sported a few bruises. Their normally fit form looked brittle and starved. A slab of… magnet? judging by the way the chains clung to it, at their feet. It must be the thing keeping them from teleporting. Villain’s eyes searched Damsel’s face for answers.

Why?

“Two years ago, from today, you,” Damsel was looking at Villain, “robbed a bank, it was the third or second heist of your career. Do you remember it?” They had a strange gun in their hands, white with a little black serum floating around in a dart loaded into the chamber.

Villain hesitated. “Not really... it was the catalyst to many other successful heists.” Why was Damsel asking them this? There were other matters that should be at the forefront of their mind. 

 “Allow me to remind you of the facts then. You pulled off a successful bank robbery, leaving a bomb behind you.” Damsel’s voice was cold, they turned to look at an angry Hero, “That’s when you showed up. You were more interested in stopping Villain than teleporting the bomb out of the building. Did you catch Villain?” Damsel answered their own question: “No. Three people died for your mistakes.”

“Damsel, what does this have to do with anything?” Villain was breathing heavily; talking was hard.

“Did you know I went to Harvard?” It was like Damsel hadn’t even heard Villain. Maybe they hadn’t. “I had a half scholarship. My dad was so proud. He insisted that he would pay the other half of the tuition. I told him not to worry, but he was so stubborn. He…” Damsel paused, face contorting as if in pain, “He went to the bank every month to pay. He went to the bank two years ago today. Two years ago was the last time that I saw him alive.”

Villain’s eyes widened, they stared warily at the gun. “Damsel, I’m so sorry.” They sucked in a rasping breath. “Hero should have saved him.” It wasn’t the first time that Hero had placed capturing Villain over saving lives.

Damsel nodded, “Yes, they should have.” In a flash Damsel pointed the gun towards Hero and shot the dart into their heart. Hero’s eyes went wide, Hero fell over, as if dead.

Damsel turned back to Villain, “You should never have put those people in danger. Never put my father in danger.” Damsel produced a copper dart from their pocket and slid it into the gun. Damsel was like a loose cannon, ready to fire.

“Damsel please don’t do this. I could never have known that was your father in there.”

“No, you could never have cared, Villain. Even in our relationship you didn’t care. All you have ever cared about was winning, winning against Hero, winning me.”

“Damsel, I’m innocent in this! It was Heroes’ job to save those people!” 

“You are not innocent!” Damsel yelled back, then recomposed themself. “Unchecked Villains and Heroes are nothing more than careless murderers.”  Damsel’s knuckles turned white on their gun.

“Are you so quick to condemn me?” 

Damsel spoke again as if they had not heard Villain, “If it’s any consolation, I don’t want to do this to you. I love you.” They glanced back at Heroes’ still body. “You both.”

“If you love me you won’t do this. Let's go home and all will be forgotten.” Villain found themselves really meaning it, they could overcome this. Damsel’s knuckles regained a bit of their color. They took a step towards Villain. Villain could see how much Damsel wanted that; Villain nodded encouragingly. 

Friend moved, startling Villain. They hissed at the pain of their muscles tensing. Friend put a hand on Damsel’s arm. “Remember, this is leading to something bigger than just you or me. This world has seen enough of Heroes and Villains. Someone needs to sacrifice to protect the people from them.”

“Do you really believe that?” Villain asked Damsel flabbergasted.

Damsel spoke softly, as if speaking a mantra, “For the greater good.”

“No, Damsel. Please.” 

“I have a favor to ask, after--”

Villain looked at Heroes’ prone form, “After?”

“Yes, after.” Damsel spoke slowly, “It won’t kill you; you just won’t have your powers anymore. So, after, please tell the world there’s a new player in the game. Soon it won’t be just Heroes and Villains. It will be Heroes. Villains. And Enforcers.” They pointed the barrel at Villain’s heart. “I think it’ll catch on.”

Then Damsel, their kind, sweet, good Damsel, pulled the trigger. Villain wished they had seen it before. That it would all lead up to this moment, this betrayal. Usually they were quite good at that. But it was harder with Damsel; they didn’t show all the usual signs like everyone else. 

But then again… Damsel was different than everybody else.

[revrevrew-writblr]

Reporter

Content Warning: Creepy Villain

“Nu-ah-ah, little Reporter.” Villain said, their super-strong arm wrapped tighter around Reporter’s waist. Reporter’s breathing came out furiously, their muscles still tensed to fight, but they stopped struggling. Reporter suspected Villain could literally squeeze the life out of them if they wanted to. Reporter wondered why the impulsive Villain refrained. 

One of Villain’s hands came up to hold Reporters jaw, tilting Reporters ear up to their mouth. “If you struggle... I’ll snap your neck.” 

Reporter couldn’t help the shudder that worked its way through their body when Villain kissed the side of their neck. Reporter was suddenly too aware of the way Villain was holding them. Their face turned red, ashamed that they couldn’t work their way out of this. 

Villain’s chuckle worked its way through Reporter’s chest. “You’re so cute when you’re scared.” Villain’s lips touched Reporter’s ear as they hushed their voice to a whisper, “I think I might just take you home with me.” 

That was it. 

Reporter felt their magic flare to life with vigor. Their eyes fluttered closed. Electricity illuminated the backs of their eyelids. They felt power fill every inch of their being. The power was invigorating. Yet at the same time it burned. Their nerves fried as quickly as the power healed them. Pain brought them to their knees.  

Fifteen long seconds later Reporter was able to open their eyes. The power turned off as abruptly as it was turned on. Reporter couldn’t always tell when their powers were going to come on. Ironically enough it was like a light switch. Reporter was never ‘holding it at bay.’ It was either on or off, often dependent upon their emotions. 

They huffed in and out, their long hair standing straight, as if someone had rubbed a balloon on it. Their clothes were burning slightly, yet otherwise the power had left them untouched. Black spots floated in their vision. They could see well enough to note that Villain was sporting a couple of burns. Reporter felt gratified to see Villain was a good fifteen feet away from them.

Their smug feelings dissipated when Villain smiled. Reporters gut twisted; they let out an involuntary groan. Villain had played them into revealing their powers.

“There they are!” Villain threw up their arms in a grand gesture. 

Reporter struggled to stand up straight. “How did you know?” they managed out. Their hands gripped their knees. They were standing, but perilously close to falling over. 

“Oh, darling. I have been watching you ever since you got that nifty power.” Reporter should have been more suspicious when Villain had agreed to meet with them. They’d been too caught up in the excitement of a personal interview with Villain. The only personal interview with Villain ever. That stuff made careers.

Villain spoke rhetorically, “The real question is why you haven’t embraced your power yet? It’s practically wasted on you.” Villain swaggered to Reporter, circling them, coming within two arm’s length of Reporter. 

Villain’s eyes roamed over Reporter, as if evaluating them. The disgust on Villain’s face told Reporter that they were found wanting. 

Reporter replied, despite Villain’s tone, “I’m not interested in that lifestyle. I just wanted to ask you a few questions,” you frickin’ creep. Reporter began looking for an out, they needed to escape.

Villain murmured to themself, “No, no, that won’t do.” Then more loudly they said, “Come with me and I’ll teach you how to use your powers without passing out.” Villain stopped in front of Reporter, a patronizing smile replacing their disgust. “I’m surprised you haven’t by now.” 

Villain’s invitation sent new meanings with that last phrase. Reporter suspected if they had passed out, Villain would have just taken them.

Seeing no other way to make an escape, besides throwing themself off the twenty-story building, Reporter began a cautious walk back towards the door to the stairs. They should have thought this through better.

Villain stalked towards Reporter, faster than Reporter was going. Reporter nearly tripped on their own feet, trying to turn around quickly. They staggered, and ran, the black spots growing. Their head screamed at them. If they could just make it through the door, they might be able to get away. They pulled open the door. It slammed shut again. A small crater formed under Villain’s hand.

Reporter lost hold of reality when they were slammed into the door. 

[revrevrew-writblr]

Bounty Hunter

@morallygreyprompts thanks for prompt #75! I followed all of it except the last line but I got the general gist of the prompt in the story.

Bounty Hunter snuck up behind the oblivious villain and abruptly said, “are you alright, [Villain]?” Villain jumped away, turning towards Bounty Hunter, their jaw hanging slack with shock. “Honestly?” Bounty Hunter continued, “These last few weeks… Something… Something has been off.” You weren’t even prepared to attack me. Forlorn, Bounty Hunter looked Villain over. They were brandishing a metal spoon, ice cream still slipping off the cold metal to join the overturned ice cream container on the ground.

Are you wearing… A snuggie?

Villain’s stance and ‘weapon’ deflated, as if to say ‘oh, it’s you.’ They angrily picked up the ice cream container, muttering about how rivals should mind their own business. Uncaring, they left a mound of melting ice cream on the carpet. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you- great even,” Villain said pursing their lips.

Sarcasm, awesome. “I seriously doubt it... How about, just for tonight, we call it truce? Maybe if you talk to me, I can help?” Bounty Hunter offered. The reward on Villain’s head was quite large, and in the state Villain was in, it would be easy money. But Bounty Hunter felt some camaraderie with Villain, sometimes Bounty Hunter had some nefarious goals and Villain was sometimes willing to help. Vice versa too; it was just a smidge fun to see Hero in over their head. Bounty Hunter wouldn’t take Villain to jail without a respectable fight. 

Villain shook their head, turning towards the couch and wrapping themselves up in a fuzzy blanket. It was a wretched sight. “There’s nothing you can do, unless you can make people fall in love with someone.”

Bounty Hunter followed Villain to their resting place, standing in front of them with a raised eyebrow, “Well... who is it I’m persuading?”

“The server at the coffee place turned me down.” Villain let out a pitiful sob and hung their head low to their ice cream container, taking a small bite off their spoon. 

The word ‘pathetic’ was on the tip of Bounty Hunters tongue, but they couldn’t bring themself to say it. “There, there…” Bounty Hunter gave a small grimace as they patted Villains back and sat down next to them. 

Villain abruptly leaned into Bounty Hunter’s side; Villain’s hands awkwardly pushed away to keep ice cream off Bounty Hunter. Bounty Hunter had to stop themselves from pushing away; they managed to only shift uncomfortably. I can’t believe I’m not just incapacitating them and getting the reward. It would set me up for life. 

Bounty Hunter smiled, dreaming of a small cottage, with no one around for miles, and a chest full of gold at the foot of their bed. 

Bounty Hunter frowned when the sobbing Villain spoke, annoyed that reality could come crashing down on their dream, “Will you capture them for me?” Villain looked up at them with glistening eyes.

Bounty Hunter began to say no, their mouth opened to deliver their rejection, “Sure.” Why- Am I like this? “Do you want me to bring them back here or your lair?” 

“At my lair!” Villain’s face lit up, “At noon sharp! You really mean it- Promise?” Bounty Hunter nodded their head, “Thanks Bounty Hunter, you’re the best.” Villain’s left dimple popped in. 

Bounty Hunter pursed their lips when they saw a tear dropped discarded at the bottom of Villain’s ice cream container. Bounty Hunter stood, their bottom lip sucked in and their head nodding, “good acting skills Villain.” 

Villain smiled up sweetly, all sorts of adorable half tangled in blankets. “How else would I get you to do something completely illegal with nothing in it for you? You promised though. I expect you at my lair at noon tomorrow.” 

Bounty Hunter stomped their way to the door, pulling it open, pretending to be the good friend feeling duped, when all they felt was an overwhelming relief, like they could finally breathe again. 

Villain’s back to themself. 

Villain called out in a high false voice, “I love you!” It might have just been Bounty Hunter’s imagination playing tricks on them when they heard Villain whisper, “I really do.” 

No. They could never mean that. Someone like Villain would never go for me. 

[revrevrew-writblr]

Prompt/short story?

Somehow this life carried me away. I went from world to world destroying; looking for a love that did not require work. I blamed others for what I did not have and took what they had. I can never repay them for what I have done. They are gone and died many eons ago. I went through an unspecified amount of time going through the motions after my evil deeds, and I changed. Though I did not realize my mistake I was one step closer to a good person.

I felt him behind me before he could startle me; I didn’t tell him that. I let him have this, if only to see him smile. He’s hands clamped over my shoulders lightly and I did my best to act startled. I tensed, did a little scream and tried to look bewildered. 

I gave a small smile and when his eyes met mine I chuckled “You scared me!”

He gave a real laugh, I had convinced him, in more ways than one, and he was genuinely happy- a good human. He replied by removing my book from my hands, that I had been reading, and took my hand closest to him and pulled me gently from my seat and spun me. I hugged him.

I was married to this human, but not for much longer. 

I had trusted him, but I had been wrong. I had always been wrong.

[revrevrew-writblr]

Inheritance

Content Warning: Killing in self defense, borderline creepy Hero? 

I used gendered pronouns in this, if you guys want me to make it in my standard form, I can totally do that, just not tonight.

Thief sneered at Hero with contempt, but her face also blanched in fear. She struggled against the restraints, panic creeping in. Hero loomed over her, the classic spot light making his face fill with shadows. 

“Why don’t you escape?” Hero asked, “You can. I know his power lies within you.”

She tilted her head up uncomfortably to meet his gaze. She gulped, her breathing jagged and uneven, he really was quite handsome, about her age too. That didn’t help. 

She refused to answer his question. Hero sighed, “Let’s try a simple question: what is your name?” 

She made no move to speak, her frame trembled. The Hero leaned closer to her, he put his arms on the back of the wooden chair. “This is going to be a very long day if you won’t even tell me something I already know.” She leaned away from him as much as the chair would allow. She refused to look at him as he studied her reactions.

“Why are you so afraid? You could take me out with just a glance.” Hero asked softly. No reply came. He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles, her cheek flinched at the touch and her muscles coiled, she moved away in a jerk only to have her head bump against his other arm.

Thief shifted away from his arm, looking down now, shame burning at her cheeks. She wished she had worn her hair down, then she could have hid behind its curtains. 

She had braided it that morning, she had planned to go out, have a good time. She had needed to get some air. She tried to limit how often she went out, who knows who would find her? She had not realized that she was sitting at the bar with a hero. 

He had invited her to his place, and like an idiot deprived of human contact she had agreed. He was so handsome, and he had seemed kind enough. He offered her wine and she had taken it unaware of the drug he had put in it. She’d only had a couple of sips when she realized her blunder and passed out. She’d waken in the chair, with a terrible crick in her neck. 

“Interesting, you hadn’t seemed so shy of my touch last night.” Hero contemplated this, standing straight up now, his hands leaving the chair. Not much besides kissing had happened last night, he had been a gentleman not taking anything that she would regret giving. Hero continued on, “You’re scared I’m going to hit you.” Hero’s brows furrowed, his mouth turning down into a frown. 

“More than that, I fear that everyone will say I deserved it. So why wouldn’t you? You could beat me to death and everyone who bears the title hero wouldn’t blame you.” She said the title hero with such venom Hero flinched. 

Hero stiffened, gesturing to themself, as he spoke, “I’m one of the good guys, you know.” He gestured in the air, looking down his nose at Thief. “I’m not the one who killed a man in cold blood.”

 She was watching him very closely now, tracking his movements. He hadn’t said he wouldn’t hurt her; he had deflected. She shook her head at his ignorance, her chin jutting out. She spoke in a controlled tone, trying not to reveal her anger, “You would be surprised at what the good guys are willing to do, to sacrifice.” She tried to ignore the desire to look away.

Hero took a step forward with an accusatory finger pointed at her, he spoke in a hushed rage, “You know nothing of the heroes and our business, all you’ve ever aspired to be is evil!” Thief flinched back when His hand swung through the empty air, he wasn’t aiming to hit her, but rather for dramatic effect. Hero turned around and composed himself. 

Thief felt a rush of adrenaline from her fight or flight, spurring her on to reply in anger, “Do. Not. presume to know me. They didn’t even tell you who I am when they sent you to fetch me, and drag me back.” Her eyes burned holes into his back, daring him to face her, to face the lies of omission that heroes had fed him. 

Hero pulled something out of his pocket, he turned around and thrust it into her face. It was a picture of her dad, all dressed up in his hero costume, his smile all teeth and charm. Thief closed her eyes against the picture, trying to suppress all the emotions that came with her father's face. Love. Regret. Anger. Fear. Horror. Peace. Satisfaction. Shame. Pain. 

“This man, he was my idol, my hero.” The Hero said, waving the photo at her closed eyes, “and you can’t even stand to look at his picture.”

“He may have been your hero, but he was my monster.” She said, her bottom lip trembling. She opened her eyes now tears slid down her cheeks unbidden. She refused to look at the picture, but instead she looked directly into Hero’s eyes, “I am the daughter of a monster.” She spoke softly now, without rage, instead a sad acceptance. 

“Bull. That’s not true. He was a good man.” Hero scoffed, his palms face up in front of him.

“That's what everyone else said too, even those that could see how his power began to unravel his mind. They called him a ‘necessary evil.’ The heroes, my teachers, knew exactly what was going on, but they wouldn’t stop him. It didn’t matter what he did in his personal life, so long as he showed up for work and saved the day. It didn’t matter if he beat me.” 

The tears still came silently, but bitter anger filled her voice, “One night he came back after a devastating loss against a villain, his powers had taken their toll on his mind. So I went to help him get to his bedroom. When he saw me he thought I was that villain” 

“He tried to… to kill me. He was so deranged at that point, beyond help. I did what I had to do; I stole his power. Despite having taken his power, he was still much stronger than me, and I didn’t know how to use his power. So I took the pocket knife from my pocket and I stabbed him in the neck. He drowned of his own blood so fast.”  Her eyes had glazed over as if she was reliving the experience. 

Hero turned back around, a look of horror on his face, his hand covering his mouth. 

Thief looked up at Hero defiantly, “So tell me Hero, are you willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good? And I don’t mean giving up your life as a sacrifice, death is so easy to agree to. I mean the kind that steals every breath you breathe for the rest of your life, every piece of you? Because I refuse to sacrifice that.” 

“You never wanted to be a villain.” The hero stated.

“I never was.” Thief sneered. “Though I don’t expect you to believe me.”

The hero’s mouth had gone dry, “I do, because I am the son of Professor Veritas.” 

“So I’m screwed either way.” Professor Veritas had the power to tell the truth from lies, and so too his son, but the Professor had turned his back on Thief. He had said that she should have thought of the greater good, and her father's blood had to be avenged. 

Hero began to untie Thief, “No, neither one of us is like our fathers.”

[revrevrew-writblr]

The Nullifier

CONTINUATION OF OUT OF THE FRYING PAN

Order of Reading - More to Come Sidekick ‘Clued In’ Sidekick and the Vision Out of the Frying Pan The Nullifier

Whoops- I forgot to add content warnings!!! 

Content Warning for violence/pain

“You really know how to show a person a good time.” Sidekick tried for a dry tone, but it came out as a dry croak instead. On their way back from the warehouse, Sidekick had fallen asleep with exhaustion. They woke up here, restrained to a hospital bed, complete with an I.V. in their arm to keep them hydrated, and a heart monitor connected to their thumb. 

The monitor made annoyingly rapid beats, betraying Sidekick’s anxiety at seeing Villain upon waking up. Sidekick took a few deep breaths, trying to regulate their heart. It didn’t work. They shivered slightly, cold despite the several blankets covering them-- and their bound wrists. They almost looked like a regular patient, rather than a prisoner, patterned gown and all.

Villain seemed to fill the windowless room, their precise overwhelming all other distractions- though there weren’t many. The room was mostly empty, and it was no small comfort to see that the room was bereft of torture devices. 

Villain shifted from foot to foot, placing and removing their hands in and out of their pockets.

It’s like they never stop moving. 

Villain looked down their nose at Sidekick, their chest slightly puffed out. They stilled while they spoke, “Actually I do, but you’ll probably be dead before you have any chance to find out.” Sidekick’s eyes widened, and the monitor’s beeping picked up like wildfire. Villain resumed their constant movement, repeatedly looking over their shoulder towards the door. They kept their posture leaning slightly away from Sidekick. It was clear conversation held no interest for them.

Aren't Villain’s supposed to take some kind of sadistic pleasure in fear? They look proud but not pleased. There was no trademark sly smile and no glint in their eyes- it honestly looked like they couldn’t care less that Sidekick was here. Why not just kill me and be done with it then? 

“Who are we waiting on- an executioner? A last meal sort of thing?” Sidekick let out a small laugh, an awkwardness hung in the air as Villain didn’t acknowledge them.

With a small note of dark humor, brought on by a combination of hunger and fatigue, Sidekick thought, if you’re going to kill me. at least have the decency to pay attention to me while you do it.

The room’s door hesitantly opened, and a person skirted nervously around the bed. Their face carefully concealed with a breathing mask and a pair of reflective sunglasses. Their hands gripped the rail of Sidekick’s bed, as if to anchor themself somewhere they really didn’t want to be. 

The person’s eyebrows scrunched together, their head looming over Sidekick. Their head tilted towards Villain as they spoke, “After this don’t call me again. My debt to you will be filled.” 

“After what?” Sidekick shifted uncomfortably against their bonds. Villain frowned a little and refused to look at Sidekick.

Villain gave an affirmative nod in reply to the masked person.

The person slowly and deliberately unclenched their hands from their perch, a subtly increasing light emanating from their fingertips. 

They are a nullifier! Yes! They’re going to break my magical contract with Hero!

WAIT- NO! They looked with wide eyes at the fingers and gaped at Villain’s stoic face. If their contract was nullified, then Hero would think they were dead! No one would save them from Villain- and they would die in less time and probably in a much more gruesome way. 

At least their powers of prophecy would be given back to them- but in order to use them they would have to starve, or outline in detail their stupid diet to Villain who would undoubtedly put two and two together and discover Sidekick’s weakness. 

Sidekick returned their gaze to the encroaching light, which at a different time would be their salvation instead of their doom. They shrunk back into the pillows of the bed trying in vain to avoid the nullifier. 

This is not how I wanted to do this!

Sidekick looked helplessly at Villain opening their mouth thinking to… What? Beg?  No. Sidekick would never beg. They snapped their mouth shut and returned their attention to the light. Then they closed their eyes and demanded their muscles release the tension in their body. 

The nullifier touched their forehead.

This is going to hurt. 

 ~~~

Villain rushed out of the room against Sidekick’s bone jarring screams.        

Was that what it was like for my brother?

On a basic, purely logical level, Villain understood that Sidekick deserved everything they had coming to them- but that didn’t stop Villain’s stomach from rolling at the agony in Sidekick’s broken scream, lungs too damaged from water to properly convey their pain.

Nullifier can see themself out. The peaceful Nullifier wouldn’t want to stick around for long. I wish the title of peaceful still applied to me- No! This is peaceful- or at least it will ensure future peace.

Their trembling hands ripped off their stifling mask.

They paced back and forth hand holding their head, as they took shallow gasps of air.

A soft sob came from the room- which in a way, seemed almost entirely worse than screams. They couldn’t tell if it was Sidekick or Nullifier- having to break the contract without Hero, without the physical contract, and without consent, put a strain on both Nullifier and Sidekick. It didn’t help that Sidekick probably fought it every step of the way. 

Did my brother fight?

Villain took off towards the nearest exit, flinging the door open to fresh air. The too bright and cheery sunlight making them double over and lose their breakfast.

Before I die, Hero and Sidekick will pay for what they’ve done. 

This was not a cheery day.

[revrevrew-writblr]

Unmasked

Content warning: Themes of abuse

Hero jerked their masked face out of Villain’s reach, tugging on the limits of their restraints. The chair dug painfully into their back, distracting them from their battle wounds.

Furious, Villain grasped Hero’s hair and yanked them forward. Strands of hair ripped from their scalp; shame filled them.

Villain leaned forward whispering furiously in Hero’s face, “You are mine now. If you wanted to avoid this, you would have fought harder. Everything you are and have, any secrets, are mine, because you are too weak.” 

Tears pricked in Hero’s eyes, they tried to calm their erratic breathing. “You don’t need me, Villain. Just get it over with and kill me. I’m sick of seeing your ugly mug. Just put me out of my damned misery.” 

The words held no truth; Villain needed Hero to blackmail Sidekick, and Villain was quite beautiful, hard to look away from really. Their attraction to the Villain was a sick reminder of Hero’s past; they tried to push the feelings down. It wasn’t hard right now, the painful reality bringing them clarity. 

Villain reared back, their hand leaving Hero’s head. Villain’s mouth pressed into a thin line and they struck out at Hero. The bitter sting of Villain’s backhand threw them to the side, the ropes of the chair chaffed against the movement. The blow rang through their head, stunning them. Their face burned. The metallic taste of blood filled their mouth. 

Villain shook their hand out, flexing and stretching it. Hero cringed back at the movement, trembling involuntarily. “You should be more careful with your words Hero; it would be a shame if you caused me to act out.” 

I don’t ‘cause’ your abusive tendencies.

Villain snatched Hero’s mask, the warm plastic pealed off their skin.

Villain stared at Hero for a moment, Villain’s breath came quicker. Villain leaned back, their movements jerky. With a loud roar they threw the plastic mask against the wall, “Is there any part of you that isn’t perfect?!”

Villain’s words were meaningless, but their tone and actions were everything. Hero jerked back, fear stabbed them, the Villain’s thundering voice hurting their ears. Hero’s fight or flight tried to direct their actions. Their mind sent them signals their body couldn’t follow. Hormones melted through their brain. Silent tears trailing down Hero’s cheeks, relieving the chemical imbalance. 

“Well!?” Villain’s voice boomed, their hands moving away from them in a grand gesture. Hero cringed and leaned back again. Then remembering how Villain had reacted to Hero leaning back before, Hero abruptly slumped forward. Their head hung low. 

“Fine. I’ll just find out myself.” Villain’s hands were suddenly on Hero’s cheeks, Hero resisted the urge to shrink back. Villain’s words sank through the panic. 

“Please, Villain. Don’t.” Hero’s lip quivered, slowly they moved their head up to face Villain.

The side of Villain’s mouth curved up, pleased. “I like it when you grovel. Do it again. Maybe then I won’t stomp through your mind.” 

Hero choked on a sob.

“Guess that’s a no.” Villain’s hands clenched, pulling painfully on Hero’s skin, Villain’s nails digging in.

Villain’s eyes glazed over, their face went slack. The contrast was disturbing, Villain almost looked peaceful. 

Hero pulled desperately hoping to thrust Villain out of Hero’s mind. Hero never wanted anyone to see the parts of their past they felt most ashamed of, especially Villain. Memories of people they trusted and loved hurting them. Memories of how they could have escaped the abuse burned at them. They should have been stronger... Why couldn’t they have been stronger?

On a basic level, they knew the abuse wasn’t their fault, that abused people feel they can’t get away even when presented with the opportunity. That they almost never leave their abusers.

But on many different levels they couldn’t completely rid themself of the self loathing. 

Villain’s hands followed Hero’s face as Hero tugged. Magic kept Villain’s hands firmly on Hero. 

It was a long thirty seconds before Villain’s face reanimated. Villain staggered away, they pressed a shaking hand to their mouth. Their skin pallored. They nearly tripped over their own feet. They looked like they were going to be sick.

The usually loud Villain was quiet as the grave.

Hero glared at the Villain, “I begged you not to.” Hero spat out the words; they were bitter on their tongue. “At least you have the good sense to look ashamed.” 

Some sick sense of pleasure rushed through Hero. They had never put Villain in their place so effectively. 

Villain’s gaze avoided Hero; they cast their eyes downward. Reliving Hero’s darkest moments humbled them. “Do you--” Villain paused meeting Hero’s eyes briefly. “Do you want me to take them from you? You won’t ever have to remember again.” Villain clenched their fists at their sides.

“Yes.” The word escaped Hero’s lips, before they could think about the consequences. Villain approached cautiously, hands reaching for Hero’s face.

Villain’s hands touched Hero’s cheeks again, agitating the forming bruise. Hero flinched, “Wait.” Villain stopped. 

“No. I-- I want to keep them.” Hero corrected themself. “Getting rid of them would never be enough. My body would still be irrationally afraid. It will just make me wonder why I feel alone in a crowd of people, why I jump when I hear a loud sound, why I don’t trust people, why when I do it’s always the wrong ones.” It was Hero who couldn’t look at Villain now, Hero’s lips twisted into a scowl. “And why I’ll always fall for the villain.”

Villain gasped, their hands fell limply to their sides.

Hero glared at them, an unrelenting anger playing on their bruising face, “So no. The only way to fix it, Villain, is to stop living up to every terrible expectation I have of you.”

[revrevrew-writblr]

Sidekick ‘Clued In’

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN CONTINUED-ISH 

This takes place before Sidekick is captured and is part of the set up for the plot after. I’m making another short story in between this one and ‘Out of the Frying Pan’ which should be done in like two weeks... Maybe? I’ll work on it. Hope it all makes sense! 

Sidekick played with the dojo mat’s fraying strands. Hero was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Sidekick was starting to get anxious. Hero would only skip out on training for two reasons. One, Hero was meeting with The Heroes’ Association. But Hero usually told Sidekick so they could sit in on the meetings. The second, more likely reason: Hero had seen a vision. Sidekick wouldn’t assume the reason Hero didn’t show up. 

They would find answers. 

Standing, Sidekick took their gui top off, along with their orange belt, leaving them in baggy gui pants and a tight tank-top. They carefully folded their top and tied their belt, and reverently placed them in their locker. 

Then they took off towards Heroes’ office. There was no guarantee Hero would be there--but it was a good place to start. 

Hero’s home was ostentatious. Of course, it wasn’t Hero’s, but rather the city's Resident Hero House. Taxpayers paid for this house--it was the cost of protection against villains, Sidekick guessed. Shouldn’t ‘superheroes’ just save people without extracting payment? Out of the goodness of their hearts? Or like, duty?

Sidekick picked at their tank top as they went upstairs, glancing at the grand staircase. Were they worthy of the pompous carpet, the gilded rails? Not many Heroes were, Sidekick found.

Few heroes dedicated themselves to tackling the systemic injustices of the world and ‘blue-collar’ crime. Why stop muggings and promote safety when they could save the city once a month and be hailed as the only public worker? Would it kill them to have a day job? 

Vigilantes, though. They knew where it was at. They were constantly hard at work, stopping villains without praise, and making citizen arrests to keep the streets a safer place for every-day citizens. They also got to go back to their own lives at the end of the day.

Sidekick hadn’t been afforded the luxury. Not with the power of prophecy. The Heroes’ Association took them ‘under their wing’ when their first vision came true.

Sidekick rubbed their chest, regret shooting through them. Confiding in First Sidekick about their powers had cost them. First Sidekick could never keep a secret like that; the association had found out quickly. 

Despite First Sidekick’s encouragement, Sidekick had resisted joining the association. The association had never helped them; why should Sidekick do them any favors? But with no parents to fight for them, they had little choice but accept the associations ‘invitation.’ It wasn’t like foster parents wouldn’t love profiting off them, anyways.

They had been 14 years old, right after their Celiac’s Disease diagnosis. Who would have thought it was gluten keeping their powers at bay? Sidekick felt like a bad Middle-Class, 21st Century, American stereotype. Why couldn’t it be something cool? Like silver--I missed out on werewolf connotations for this.

They still remembered how the association’s council had laughed at them.

The crimson heat of embarrassment still clung to Sidekick’s cheeks when Hero brought the topic up. Hero seemed to garner some kind of sadistic pleasure in shaming Sidekick.

Just two years with Hero had Sidekick rooting for the villains. 

What had it been like for First Sidekick? They couldn’t remember First Sidekick ever complaining about Hero. Sidekick took a few calming breaths in front of Hero’s’ office’s relatively simple door. The door was pretentious in its own way; the office was an exact replica of the presidential office. The symbolism was explicit:

Superheroes’ dictated law. 

They eased the door open and slowly walked into the office. Hero looked up from their food. Heroes’ face was set in a grimace. 

They were eating bread.

Sidekick’s gut twisted, they steeled themself. They took care not to sound condescending when they spoke. “Why are you eating that?” They looked calm, cool, and collected--probably. They were screaming on the inside. 

What's the point of giving you my power if you don’t even avoid its weakness!!

“I missed bread,” Hero responded, taking another mouth full of bread. Sidekick’s fist clenched--their only response to their raging frustration. Missing nothing, Hero's eyes flashed to Sidekick’s fists. A smirk twitched onto their face.  

Yup. I’m definitely here for your amusement. 

Sidekick’s cheeks burned, if it was worth it, they’d rip Hero a new one. “Is it for training?” No, obviously. If Sidekick opened the door wide enough, for Hero to insult them, maybe Hero would slip up and provide answers. Sidekick tried to look earnest or at least vacant. Their facade earned them an eyeroll. Sidekick’s lips pursed.

Hero, seeing through Sidekick’s poor attempt at egging them on, ignored the question. “There will be a new arrangement in a couple of days, you’ll officially be on your own. You won’t be needing my expertise anymore.” Giving Sidekick a tight smile, they looked down at paperwork in front of them, slipping on glasses that appeared to soften their features. 

A ridiculous effect; nothing about Hero was soft.

Shock left Sidekick stammering. “You’re… You are... letting me go? To be my own hero?” 

Knowing what I know you did? With no magical contract to protect you?

Sidekick’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

Sidekick had fought tooth and nail to get away from Hero. Had done everything they could to get out of the contract forged between the two. Even going so far as to contact a few ‘Nullifiers’-- people who could break magic contracts. Their replies haunted Sidekick.

“Hero has served this city for 15 faithful years.”  “You’re so ungrateful. Do you even realize how lucky you are to be training under Hero?” “You just want an easy out so you can run off and be a vigilante.”  “The Heroes’ Association says I’m not allowed to talk with you anymore.” 

Their absolute faith in Hero, and their skepticism of Sidekick, had kept Sidekick awake tossing and turning for many nights. Guilt-ridden, they punished themself. Maybe if I had been more on board with the ‘The Heroes’ Association.’ Maybe if I hadn’t fought them so vocally. Maybe if I had just been more. Maybe then I could be free of their abuse. Maybe then a villain wouldn’t be sitting on the city's throne. 

Hero’s condescending face filled Sidekick’s eyes. “Have I ever lied to you Sidekick?”

No--do I dare hope?

Evidence pointed to Hero having an inability to directly lie--maybe it was their powers weakness. That doesn’t mean the snake couldn’t spin a web of lies.

This means something else. I refuse to indulge in false hopes.

Sidekick strained not to challenge Hero’s words. Who knows what the temperamental Hero would do in response?

What did Hero say?

There will be a new arrangement in a couple of days… You’ll officially be on your own… You’ll no longer need my expertise… 

They said nothing and yet they said everything.

“No, you never have.” Sidekick responded obediently, schooling their features. 

Hero’s smile seemed to say, ‘good dog.’ 

“Great talk. Rest up, take a few days off. We have a big day coming up.”