#hero villain snippet

[chaotic-orphan]

Concussed villain gets kidnapped?

Villain showed up on Hero’s doorstep, heaving in breaths as they slammed their fist on the door. Their arm was ridiculously heavy, and it took everything in them to throw it mercilessly against the wooden door. The effects were meagre knocks that Villain prayed Hero would hear.

If Hero was even home.

What if they were working tonight? Fuck, why didn’t Villain think of that? Their head was pounding so they rested their forehead against the cool wood, letting out a shaky, shallow breath, trying not to anger the fire in their ribs. Blood continued to trickle from their hairline down over their eyes and dripping onto their cheeks.

That wasn’t good.

They heard footsteps behind the door and Villain almost broke down there and then, relief flooding them like a tsunami of feeling, washing away everything that was keeping Villain upright. Tears poured down their cheeks at the thought of safety, hero looking after them… their hero. They could tell them about Superhero’s plans.

They could tell them… Villain put a hand against the door and pushed themselves backwards. They would’ve fallen if not for the arm that snaked around their waist. Villain blinked dumbly and glanced down. Arm around—?

Before they cry out or scream in warning a hand clamped over their mouth and Villain was ripped away from the door and into the shadows. Villain thrashed, struggling in their attacker’s grip, all their screams and cries muffled to nothing but silent pleas.

The door opened and Villain’s struggles renewed but Hero wouldn’t be able to see them from here. Hero wouldn’t know they were even there!

“Hello?” Hero asked into the darkness and Villain whimpered against the hands holding them in an iron cage. Villain threw their body forward, back, trying to dislodge their attackers arms but they didn’t budge even a little.

“If you want Hero to continue to draw breath, Villain, you’ll come quietly.”

Villain froze at the voice. That was… Superhero… the reason why Villain was in this state in the first place. Villain’s struggles renewed as Hero stepped out of their house. If they could even sense something was amiss so close to them then they would investigate. Hero would have to investigate, right? And Hero was in danger too!

Villain had to warn them, they had to!

“Hello?” Hero asked, a note of agitation creeping into their voice.

I’m here! Villain wanted to scream. Hero please! I’m right here.

A pinch in their neck and Villain’s fruitless struggles seized, their blood running cold. They flinched as cold liquid was pushed into their neck. No… no, no, no, no. “That’s it, Villain,” Superhero whispered. “Don’t fight it.”

The hazy world blurred even more and Villain fell back against Superhero’s chest, the fight leaving them almost instantly. What did Superhero drug them with?

Their eyelids shut and Villain forced them back open, with a gargantuan effort. The last thing they saw was Hero frown and close the door before their entire world faded to black in the arms of their enemy.

[writingpromptsworld]

Prompt #59

(Pathetic villain x confident hero👀)

“You know…you’re pretty pathetic.” The hero said, as they bandaged their wounded hand, ready to fight. The villain’s eyebrows perked up, they eyed the wound on the hero’s arm before meeting their eyes.

“Excuse me?” They said, a little sharply, their eyes narrowing. They took a few steps forward to the hero.

The hero chuckled. “You are, villain.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You follow me, you make sure I don’t go on dates with other people, you make sure that I eat and sleep. And make sure that I’m safe. You know…I’m not a baby.” The hero mused, their eyes tumbling, and their mouth drawn up into a smile.

“Well, what does that have to do with me being pathetic?” The villain asked, frowning. Their lips turned upside down in confusion. They were so so adorable, the hero thought. And so so wrong.

“It’s pathetic that you think all of those things are going to make me yours. That I would stop having a normal life and be with you.” The hero revealed, glancing up. Their smile was gone, leaving a cold expression, and even colder eyes.

The villain didn’t move, it was as if their world stopped. Their time faltered, and their breath slowed, almost to a degree to where they struggled to breathe properly. This revelation…was not what they wanted. Not what they expected. No. That couldn’t happen. They wouldn’t let it happen. They wouldn’t let the hero slip through their fingers. They were theirs.

They glanced up, their eyes horrified at hero’s words. The hero came forward, their hands behind their back, with a blank yet smug expression on their face. It was as if they knew just what kind of effect they had on the villain. They stopped inches away.

“You will be with me. You belong to me.” The villain defended angrily like a child not wanting to let go of their favorite toy. The hero shook their head. The villain fumed even more. “No…No, you’re going to be with me. We’ll be together forever. You can’t possibly do this to me!”

The hero only perked their eyebrows up, amused. They don’t say anything for a while, making the villain even more anxious and furious. The hero spoke up after a moment: “You know…the first time we fought, I could see you falling. Not only from that building but also for me. I was delighted, because then I knew I could make the strongest villain fall to their knees for me with a snap of my fingers. You were so easy. And I used that to save thousands, if not millions.” The hero finished, their voice carrying hints of pride that the villain could pick out.

The villain’s head was heavy with the realization, confusion, and so much sadness and rage. They fainted.

[patchworkorphan]

The Hero and the Infant: part one

Is this title my cheeky little nod at EPIC the musical? Absolutely, enjoyyyyy!

*~*~*~*~*

The heroes came running when the world was on fire. They always came running. Hero was at the bar, where they always were, watching the news. A neat whiskey clutched between bandaged fingers.

The door slammed open. Hero didn’t have to turn to know it was Superhero’s sidekick. “Hero –”

“Not interested.”

“But Villain –”

“I know. Don’t care,” Hero replied. Daryl, the bartender, shot Hero a look and Hero pretended to not see it.

Sidekick sat on the stool next to Hero and ordered another: “whiskey; neat.”

“Mmm, I love being bribed,” Hero smiled, winking at Daryl.

“Villain’s destroying the city.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“And you’re here, drinking.”

“Perceptive,” Hero purred, taking the whiskey glass from Daryl and pouring the honey liquid of it into their glass. “They’re a minor,” Hero whispered to Daryl conspiratorially.

“I’m not.”

“Well, then. You’re on the clock. Can’t fight crime if you’re impaired.”

“And yet somehow you manage.”

“Somehow, I’m always called in on my day off. Blame your boss for disrupting my plans. Not the other way around, sunshine.”

Hero took a sip of their drink. In their peripheral vision they saw Sidekick turn their body to face Hero. Mmm, getting serious. Hero loved serious Sidekick. It’s like a puppy trying to be mean.

“You know Villain best –”

“Bullshit. Your Superhero knows them longest.”

“Villain likes you best,” Sidekick amended, and Hero nodded.

“So? Are we match making heroes and villains now? Is that Superhero’s excuse, hmm? Will that same explanation slide if I come up against a new villain?” Hero put on a high-pitched voice as they said: “oh I’m sorry superhero. This new villain’s rising sign is Virgo. I’m a Scorpio, we’re gonna clash.”

“This is different, and you know it.”

“How is this different? Because your beloved Superhero says so? Are you just a little dog with no mind of your own? Does Superhero whistle and you come?”

“I’m not here to trade insults, Hero. God knows that could well be your superpower,” Hero took the words as a compliment as the kid continued: “I’m here to ask you to help me stop people’s lives being ruined. Normal people’s lives. Fuck Superhero. Fuck villain. Fuck the whole fucking system. I’m here to ask you, to help me. Please.”

Hero looked at Daryl and Daryl looked at them. Hero rolled their eyes and tipped their head back, the whiskey running hot down their aching throat. Then they stood. Empty glass on the bar. Hero shrugged their trench coat on and patted Sidekick’s shoulder fondly.

“Pay Daryl for me will ya? And a big tip, for the inconvenience. See you tomorrow, Daryl,” Hero waved over their shoulder. Whistling as they walked out the door of their local pub.

“Thanks Daryl,” Sidekick said, paying the man and leaving a generous tip.

“Thank me all you want kid. Hero’ll just be back in here after the fight. It’s good to see them getting out, even if it is under these circumstances. Y’know ever since –”

“I know, Daryl. Thanks.”

“Later kid.”

Sidekick followed Hero out the door, where Hero was waiting a lit cigarette hanging from their lips.

“So,” Hero asked, flicking their zippo lighter shut with a satisfying click, shooting Sidekick their signature lazy smirk. “What’s Villain up to today?”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[an-avid-writer]

What are some pieces of Villain dialogue that make your brain go BRRRR? (Add to my list)

-"I'm growing tired of this game, little mouse."

-"Oh, I love it when you drop to your knees and beg."

-"That's all it takes to shut you up, huh? Close quarters?"

-"I've got you cornered. Now, are you going to do as I say?"

-"Don't struggle, you'll only make it worse for yourself."

-"I won't let them hurt you again. That's my job."

-"What happened to you?"

-"You think I broke you? Darling, I bent you. I could do so much worse."

-"Make no mistake, I won't save you a second time."

-"If you're so eager to see what pain tastes like, then let me show you."

-"That's it. Obey."

-"You've really gotten yourself into a bit of a sticky situation here, haven't you?"

And my personal favorite,

-"Tell me who did this to you. Now."

[campbells-content]

I want a story where the villain is transmasc but doesn't have any surgeries cause for the most part he is chill with his body. He still binds and takes low a dosage of t. All this is pretty irrelevant until near the climax of the story where he loses a fight and his ribs are hurt pretty bad and he's on the ground, trying not to writhe in pain as he struggles to breathe. The hero notices and goes to help. He lets them help him sit up and pull his jacket and/or cape and shirt of and the hero sees the binder and has an 'oh... oh.' moment. They put his jacket/cape over his shoulders from the front and basically cut the bloody binder from behind. The villain is breathing a little easier and the hero know that if they wanted to, they could force him into custody.

"That won't heal over night, will it?" "Probably not." "Damn." "I can take you to a hospital..." "We both know neither of us will get what we want from that. I'll have to go through excruciating interviews, probably kill someone, and once I'm healed leave when no ones looking."

Neither mentioned how he'll probably be killed in care before a trial date was even set.

"I'm good on my own..." He tried to stand, clinging his ribs as the hero helped. "I'll be fine."

He ignored the taste of blood on his tongue, walked past the hero, and pulled his jacket the right way around before mumbling to himself. "I'll be fine."

[knivesandmirrors]

This isn’t perfect by any means, but I had an idea and I wanted to get it out.

TW: capture, torture, drugging, forceful joint dislocation (?)

Wrists bound behind their back and chained to the wall wasn’t a pleasant situation to be in. Especially with this stranger looming over them.

Their gaze held the hero in place was nearly as firm as the restraints. The drugs probably had something to do with it as well.

“My my my,” the stranger purred, “You do sleep well, don’t you? I’ve been shouting your name for the past ten minutes.”

The hero opened their eyes and looked up, the face of the person standing before them darkened in shadow. They blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden light.

“Do you know where you are?” The stranger asked, their voice sounding somewhat caring; a very jarring shift from the arrogant lilt it had before. The hero shook their head slowly, still drowsy from whatever had been given to them. The stranger then sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose and shaking their head.

“Explaining it would kinda ruin the mood, so I guess I’ll just cut to the chase.” The stranger squatted down, their face now inches from the hero’s face, and suddenly they were recognizable. This was no stranger.

Foggy memories starting swimming about the hero’s head. They had seen the villain when out and about on the street and decided to follow them home. What a stupid mistake that was.

The villain grabbed hold of the hero’s belt and yanked. An abrupt pain exploded in the hero’s shoulders as their arms were wrenched further back. The hero screamed.

“How did you find me?” The villain asked, as calm and collected as ever. The hero let out a pained moan, no words coming to them. “Hm?”

The hero muttered something incomprehensible and was met with a sharp slap to the face as a response.

“Speak up,” the villain said in a way that made the hero feel like a child whose parents were sick and tired of their mumbling.

“Can’t remember,” they said. The villain grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked their head back as the hero yelped in pain. “I followed you,” they said lazily, “I saw you on the street and I…and I followed you home.” The hero swallowed and closed their eyes, giving up on trying to keep them open. The villain tapped them on the face gently in an attempt to keep them awake.

“Does anyone else know that you’re here?” The villain inquired. They waited a few seconds for a response before standing up and placing a foot on the hero’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” the hero said quietly. The boot on their shoulder started pressing down, forcing their arms further back. “I don’t know! I don’t know, I swear!” They cried out as tears brimmed their eyes.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The villain asked skeptically.

“I mean…I mean I didn’t tell anyone, but…someone could have been tracking me. I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know.”

“Do you really think I’m going to accept that answer?” The villain’s boot pressed harder.

“That’s the truth, I-…I don’t know what else you want me to say,” the hero replied, starting to cry. “Please, I swear.”

“I do like it when you beg…however,” the villain pushed their boot down until the hero’s back was firmly against the floor. Their was a loud popping sound as both the hero’s shoulders were dislocated, and their screams filled the room thicker than smoke. “Since you were so unhelpful, I’m now going to have to sort this out myself,” the villain said, barely loud enough to hear over the hero sobbing in agony.

The villain left the room and the hero was left with two useless arms and a world of pain.

[chaotic-orphan]

“Are you serious?” Villain scoffed. “I go through all this trouble, planning everything meticulously and you want to sleep on the way to my secret base?”

Hero forced a lazy grin. “How do you know I didn’t mean I can fight you in my sleep?”

“Don’t be cute right now,” Villain snapped. They put the cap back onto the syringe with the sedative they paid a pretty penny for, all for their Hero. Who was sleep deprived apparently. “The car is this way. Come on.”

“Mm-mm,” Hero said, yawning again as they shook their head.

Villain blinked. “What?”

“I don’t want to walk right now… I don’t have the energy.”

Villain ran a hand through their hair, huffing out a breath. “Fine! Fine, Jesus christ,” they muttered as they stalked towards Hero who looked about as dangerous as a sleepy kitten in that moment and picked them up with ease, carrying them like a baby. Hero snuggled into Villain’s chest.

“You’re so warm,” Hero murmured, content. “I could fall asleep in your arms.”

Villain almost froze. Almost. What the fuck were they doing? They had planned to kidnap Hero, tie them up, rough ‘em up a little and throw them in the trunk not… not whatever this was. But as they looked down at Hero’s peaceful face they couldn’t find it in themselves to continue with their plans.

“Passenger seat or back seat?” Villain asked.

Hero thought for a moment before saying, “passenger.”

“You can stretch out in the back.”

“I know, but the passenger seat is comfier.”

Villain rolled their eyes. “Alright.”

They opened the door awkwardly, not wanting to drop Hero and disturb them— god they sounded like a simp right now — and placed Hero inside.

“Put your belt on,” Villain said and grabbed the door.

“But—”

“Don’t push it, Hero,” Villain warned. Hero smiled lazily at Villain.

“You mean more than I already have?” They asked innocently.

Villain didn’t answer. They just closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat. But Hero’s laughter followed them and when they finally got into the car, Hero smiled warmly at them, eyelids drooping, their smile thawing something inside Villain. Their seatbelt was on.

“Get some sleep,” Villain told them. “At least then I don’t have to blindfold you,” they grumbled.

“Whatever you say, Kidnapper,” Hero grinned. Hero was still, their chest rising and falling by the time they pulled out onto the main road.

*~*~*~*~*

Hiii, I hope it’s okay I worked off your prompt!!! It took root in my brain and I had to write some hero x villain fluff

Prompt (534)

The villain’s snapped their fingers in the hero’s face. “Hey! I’m kidnapping you right now. At least try to fight back.”

The hero yawned. “I haven’t slept in three days. This is the perfect excuse to take a long nap. Carry on.”

[articleposter]

Renowned actor with a captivating presence on and off-screen. 🌟 Balancing charisma with talent, they redefine stardom through diverse roles. 🎬🌟

Visit site

[the-modern-typewriter]

"Please."

The villain raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise look up from their desk. "You can walk out of that door any time, darling. I'm not stopping you."

"I'd come back. It wouldn't - I don't want to break our deal."

"You don't want the consequences of breaking our deal. You absolutely want to break it."

"People are dying," the hero snapped. "I can help."

"Mm, of course you can. You're a miracle on legs."

"I'm just suggesting a pause," the hero said. "A temporary change of terms. That's all."

"And I'm just saying no."

The hero stopped on the other side of the table, fingers digging into the fine wood in an effort to control their temper. They took a deep breath. Released. Another.

"I'm still yours," the hero said. "I'd still be yours."

"Always. But N-O spells no."

"I'm begging," the hero said, through gritted teeth.

"Is that what that is?" The villain finally deigned to glance up. Their eyes - a dark and stormy night for all bad things to happen in - did not match their light tone. The amused curve of their slight smile. "Gosh. Your standards are slipping. You're not even kneeling or anything."

"Would you say yes if I knelt?"

The villain's head tipped to one side. "No," they said, after a long moment. "But I'd sincerely appreciate the view. Perhaps it might even distract you from this latest bout of self-loathing."

"Screw you."

"But it's so much more fun when you do it, dear."

"This is serious!"

The villain scoffed and merely pointed a finger at the door, expectant and waiting.

The hero's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt but they didn't move.

"Mm," the villain said. "Are you kneeling or are we done here?"

The villain could have lied, they knew that. They could have pretended there was a chance that they'd say yes. They could have offered false hope, only to rip it away again once they'd had their fun.

In the grand terms of their arrangement, the villain had done absolutely nothing wrong. They were even, in their own particular way, being kind.

There was a bitter taste in the hero's mouth.

"It's bad out there," they said, voice cracking. "People need me. They could - maybe it could be fun. You've never played at saving the world, have you? We could do it together. Go together. It could be an experiment. A game."

"Perhaps," the villain shrugged. "But I don't think that would be very good for your mental health."

"This isn't very good for my mental health!"

The villain simply looked at them.

The hero could leave. They could end the deal at any time.

But, then, the villain would simply leave too. An apocalypse slipping free of its gilded cage. The horrors on the TV would seem mild compared to the fight to come.

"I could be back in an hour," the hero said. "You wouldn't even notice I was gone."

"And I could end the world by lunch time," the villain said. "You'd be dead before you had time to be too distressed. What's your point?"

"You really don't care what's happening out there?"

"No."

"You have to care."

"I don't."

"If you're worried I'd get hurt-"

"-I'm not. I'd slaughter anyone who tried to hurt you before they got the chance."

The hero's mouth dried. Their fingers flexed on the table. They wanted to scream. Fight. Throw things.

The villain leaned back in their chair and sighed, at whatever they read on the hero's face.

"You are saving the world, love," they said. "You're here. With me. Do I need to prove that I still have teeth?"

"No," the hero said. "I - no. Thank you."

The villain nodded, just once. "Good. Come here."

"It's okay. I - I'm okay."

"You're not. Come here."

Feeling foolish, and furious, and raw, the hero rounded the desk. The villain's arm wrapped around them, pulling them close. The grip was painfully tight, mercifully impossible to wriggle free from, and so the hero had to settle against them. They could hide the prickle of tears against the deceptively vulnerable line of the villain's neck.

They stayed like that until the hero could no longer hear the screaming beyond the window.

[thequietones111]

Me in movies/fics where the hero steps on the villain. OwO

[writingpromptsworld]

Snippet #13

“You know what would get me going?” The hero asked, smiling slightly. “Another fight with you.”

The villain raised their eyebrows. “You’re literally on a bed in a hospital because you didn’t dodge my attack even though I warned you.”

The hero cracked a grin, a little painfully so. “I wanted to let you win for once.”

The villain’s eyes narrowed, they scanned the hero up and down before chuckling lowly. “You know, for someone who’s breathing with the help of an oxygen tank, you sure do have guts to say that.”

“Try me.” The hero replied, smug and a little cocky.

The next time they fought, the villain made sure to show the hero just how much they wanted the hero to “not win.”

[patchworkorphan]

The Hero and the Infant: Part Two

Read part one here

*~*~*~*~*

“Villain.”

The hero didn’t shout it. They didn’t need to. Villain would hear them fine even over all the destruction and screaming and emergency services. Hero just stared from the street up at Villain and Villain looked down at Hero. Hero lifted their hand in a wave and then pulled the cigarette from their lips, exhaling a lungful of smoke.

“Hero –” sidekick began but Hero shook their head.

“It’s okay kid. I got it from here,” Hero said still staring at Villain. “So, you gonna invite me up or do I have to climb twelve flights of stairs?”

Villain just stared. Sidekick moved forward, suddenly hesitant in bringing Hero here. Just as they opened their mouth to say it to Hero, Sidekick was wrenched into the sky by an invisible hand and suddenly Hero and the street were below them.

“Fucking shit,” Hero cursed, flicking their cigarette to the ground as they started running to the apartment building to the left of Villain and taking the stairs two at a time.

Villain stared at Sidekick with a probing, scientific kind of curiosity, like they were able to look under Sidekick's skin and unravel all their secrets with enough determination.

“You’re new,” Villain purred. Their voice like liquid silver dancing its way through the sky to Sidekick’s ears sending a shiver down their spine.

“Yeah. I’m Superhero’s sidekick.”

Villain tilted their head to the side and asked, voice deadpan, “do you know the mortality rate of Superhero’s previous sidekicks?”

Sidekick stared Villain in the eye as they said, “I do.”

“And you took the job anyways?”

“I did.”

“Hmm. Not very chatty. You remind me of an old friend of mine.”

“Forgive me, I don't usually chitchat while floating this high in the air."

"Hmm," Villain rumbled, "how about falling?"

For a single terrifying moment, Sidekick felt gravity's effects on them, yanking them back to earth and they gasped, reaching forward and grabbing Villain's leg like their life depended it.

"NO! Nononononononononono, wait! FUCK!" Sidekick cried as their grip on Villain faltered and they slipped. They fell an inch further in the air before they were suspended again, this time with their back to the ground below, staring up at Villain with wide frightened eyes. The only thing keeping them from the hard tarmac below thirteen stories below and being alive.

Villain turned over in the air, rolling onto their stomach and lying like a schoolgirl on their stomach with two hands supporting their head as they grinned down at Sidekick, drinking in their fear.

"You sound just like my favourite hero, Sidekick. I knew letting you fall would loosen your tongue a bit."

Villain was fucking insane, Sidekick realised, their heart still pounding like a rabbits at seeing a hungry dog catch their eye.

"Hero, I’m guessing?" Sidekick said eventually, though their voice still came out higher than it should have.

Villain smiled a fond smile that went to their eyes and lit up their entire face. “Yes. My dear cantankerous hero, so foul-mouthed."

“I met them today," Sidekick said, just trying to keep Villain talking and keep themselves suspended until Hero was able to talk Villain into hopefully letting Sidekick go. Where the fuck were they?

Villain's interest was piqued and they dove slightly towards Sidekick, grabbing Sidekick by the collar of their shirt and sitting on their waist, legs dangling over either side. Somehow, Villain made sure that even flying in the air, Sidekick could still feel the restrictive weight of Villain on top of them.

"And what did you think of them?" Villain asked.

What did Sidekick think of Hero?

"They were... difficult," was the first word that came to mind. Villain grinned and nodded sagely, agreeing with Sidekick as if it was a sacred moment.

“Nothing easy is worth having, Sidekick. Some parting advice.”

“You’re letting me go?”

“Oh yes,” said Villain with a disarming smile. “Quite literally.”

Sidekick didn’t have time to process Villain’s words before Villain shoved Sidekick down below them and wind rushed through their clothes, through their hair, through them as they fell like a comet to earth. This was how they died.

Then their momentum stopped suddenly, and they were swinging into a brick wall, their arm yanked out of its socket and Sidekick cried out in pain. Craning their neck up, they tried glancing up to see Hero above them, leaning half out a broken window, two feet planted on the sill and pulled Sidekick up despite their cries and cursing.

“God, I know. I’m sorry Sidekick. You shouldn’t have been here, god where the fuck is Superhero in all this!” Hero pulled Sidekick in the window and into their chest before stepping back and setting Sidekick down on the window sill.

“Fucking what the fuck?!” Sidekick mewled cradling their arm to their chest.

“I'm sorry, Villain doesn’t usually act like this,” Hero told them.

Sidekick blinked, pain lancing through their shoulder and down into their chest. “What?”

“They don’t usually act this way. First impressions are everything, but I swear there’s good in them.”

Sidekick blinked at Hero, shaking their head. “You’re defending them?!”

“Well, it’s my fault you see. This whole temper tantrum. I haven’t been returning their texts.”

“You haven’t—” Sidekick asked, then blinked and let out an exasperated “what?!”

“Your shoulder—” Hero said. “It’s dislocated.”

“No fucking shit!" Sidekick mewled. "You yanked it out of its socket!”

“Would you rather be a splat on the concrete? Cause I can still push you out the damn window, kid.”

Sidekick walked to the stairwell, fury and pain mixing in their heavy breaths as they braced themselves against the wall. Hero stepped forward a warning on their lips: “kid, I wouldn’t do th—”

It was too late. Sidekick had already thrown themselves against the wall. A resounding pop echoed throughout the stairs, followed by a sharp shriek of pain from Sidekick as they slid down the wall, breathing harshly through gritted teeth.

Hero opened their mouth, but Sidekick just held up a finger from their good arm and wagged it in Hero’s stupid face: “don’t. Say. A thing.”

Sidekick braced themselves against the wall, sliding up it with a groan of pain and rolled their shoulder. Forwards. Backwards. Then they set their furious eyes on Hero and without a word turned and started ascending the stairwell to the roof.

Hero laughed, stunned at the kid’s resilience, and followed them up the stairs. “Do you want some—”

“Just shut the hell up,” Sidekick said, kicking the door to the roof open and looking down pointedly at Hero who was midway through taking a bag of sweets from their pocket. “And go out and do your job.”

“Yes boss,” Hero said with a smile, putting a fizzy lace through their teeth. They emerged onto the roof, arms spread wide and yelled: “Hey! What the fuck are ya doing?” to Villain who was no doubt still floating in the sky, and Sidekick sat down heavy on the steps and took a few deep breaths.

They nearly just died.

Villain almost just killed them.

They would have killed them if not for Hero, and all they wanted to do was cry, but they were too angry.

“Just go out and do your job,” Sidekick chastised themselves, standing and wiping the remnants of tear trails from their cheeks before joining Hero on the roof.

Crying could come later if they lived that long.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued Here

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“Feeling lonely, hm?”

The hero didn’t burden their head with turning towards the voice. They weren’t in the mood for cruel charades.

Instead, they stared at the TV they hadn’t turned on in over a month and debated if not showing up at work would cause any huge conflicts.

Probably.

They closed their eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me,” the villain’s voice purred. “Me.”

“You’re not real, so it’s my obligation to ignore you,” the hero said. They stared at their hands and couldn’t help but feel like their physique had changed. They didn’t seem to be as muscular as before. They didn’t seem all that healthy either.

“Not real, huh?” The villain walked towards the hero’s armchair and let themselves drop lazily. “Now that’s a bit unfair.”

“Yeah,” the hero said. They stared at the coffee table with the empty coffee mug. “Some things have been pretty unfair.”

“I thought you were supposed to ignore me.”

“R-right.” The hero looked away and once again, their heart got quite heavy. They couldn’t sleep at night, that was one of the more annoying things. Eating was also difficult, working was…unbearable. They couldn’t think straight.

And above all those hallucinations…their eyes went back to the villain who was stretching in their chair.

Usually, those hallucinations made one mistake. Or better, that part of the hero’s brain that was responsible, made a mistake. Mischaracterising the villain in such a way that the entire illusion shut down entirely.

The hero hadn’t told their doctors about their imaginary nemesis. But that was mainly because the hero would probably not be allowed to work as a superhero for a few weeks.

They clenched their fists, dug their fingernails into their own flesh.

“You look troubled,” the villain said. “Are you eating enough? You’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” the hero whispered back. They looked up at the ceiling.

“You miss me.” Every single time. The hallucination said that every single time. The hero turned their gaze towards the villain’s image and stared.

“Yes, I do. So what?”

“Most people feel some sense of accomplishment after beating their enemies,” the villain said. They put one of their thighs on the other. “And two months is quite enough time to find a new enemy worth your time.”

The hero’s eyes widened.

“I don’t want someone else. And I…technically, I didn’t defeat you. I didn’t kill you, I didn’t arrest you. You just…” The hero’s throat burnt like acid and their bottom lip trembled. “…you just died.”

They swallowed the pain and leaned forward.

“Just wish I could’ve said goodbye,” they mumbled. This time, the hallucination didn’t answer. “That wasn’t fair. Our relationship didn’t deserve that end.”

“I didn’t think you’d care about the end,” the villain said.

“Isn’t the end the most important part?” the hero asked. The taste on their tongue was extremely bitter and they knew it didn’t come from the coffee they had finished an hour ago. “Either way, you are haunting me. So, I guess once again I get the worst of it all. You got the easy way out. As always.”

“Haunting you?”

“Yeah.”

“You must really like me, then,” the villain said. They chuckled sweetly, like they had whenever the hero was embarrassing themselves. For some reason, the pit in the hero’s stomach grew, that unsettling feeling spread.

The hallucination had never been cruel enough to laugh. It was such a wonderful sound that even the hero’s lips curved into a smile.

“Yeah, can you blame me? I must’ve fallen a few months ago.” Suddenly, the hallucination was quiet again.

Their eyes met and for a second, the hero swore it was the real villain in front of them. They tilted their head.

“You never mentioned that.”

“Too afraid of rejection, I suppose,” the hero answered. They shrugged. “Any rejection would have been better than this, though.”

The hallucination got up from the chair and slowly walked to the couch where the hero was sitting on.

“I would have never rejected you, you dense…” The hallucination was even capable of blushing. The hero frowned. “Whatever.”

Ultimately, the illusion grabbed them, sat down on the hero’s lap and kissed them.

It took the hero a few more seconds to realise what was really happening.

[villain-enthusiast]

TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

[kaiwewi]

Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

[creweemmaeec11]

Reverse Tropes

Soulmates - Your soulmate is destined to be your greatest rival in life.

Amnesia - Instead of losing memories, they start getting memories that aren't theirs.

Forced Marriage - Forced Divorce.

Captured Prince - They think they've captured the prince of the opposing kingdom, but they've actually just captured a normal, random civilian.

Chosen one Prophesy - There is a prophecy about *someone* saving the world, but it doesn't actually say who...

Born with Special Marks - It's actually a mark that tells a person what they *won't* be good at.

True Loves Kiss - True Hates Kiss, good luck convincing someone who truly hates you to kiss you.

Love at First Sight - Hate at First Sight.

Rags to Riches - Riches to Rags

Found Family - You need to find your actual, related family.

Misunderstood Villain - Misunderstood hero. They are trying to be evil, why does everyone like them!?

It Was All a Dream - They thought it was a dream, but it turned out to all be real.

Secret Identity - The secret Identity is the one everyone knows, somehow, everyone has forgotten your normal identity...

Villain Defeated by Friendship - Villain defeated by hatred.

Bad Boy & Good Girl - Good boy and bad girl.

Stalking/Obsessive Love - Avoiding the person they like to try and ignore their feelings.

Monster x Hunter - Hunter x Hunter, both thinking the other is a monster, or Monster x Monster, both thinking the other is a hunter.

Hero Gets Framed - The wrong villain gets framed.

Yandere - but it's two going after each other.