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raineandsky · 1 year

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#13

tw: kidnapping

(Inspired by this tweet!)

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Back when they were kids they’d made a promise – if neither of them were married by twenty-five, they’d marry each other. It was a stupid number to choose, looking back on it, but kids wouldn’t know any better, would they?

The villain’s twenty-fifth birthday is approaching, not that it matters. Seventeen years changes a lot, and the two of them have more than gone their separate ways. The hero was promptly taken in by the agency, but the villain hadn’t been so blind to the company’s innocent facade, instead turning to their own prowess to make their way in life. The promise the two had so idly made on the playground that day couldn’t be further from reality anymore.

Besides, the villain won’t need it anyway. They’d met the civilian under… less than perfect circumstances, but she’d been more than accepting of their somewhat criminal identity. It seems it was something she was looking for, if her eagerness to get involved with their schemes is anything to go by. They hope they can find a ring as bright as her as soon as they get round to robbing that bank next week.

They’ve mentioned her to the hero offhandedly, sure, but they always assumed that their little lair in the basement of the abandoned hospital was enough to keep her away from the agency’s poor imitation of ‘good’. They know they’re wrong immediately when their favourite henchman meets them at the door, their expression somehow getting more downtrodden as they catch the villain’s gaze.

“Uh,” they say when the villain starts to breeze past them, and they pause to look back at them. “S-something happened whilst you were gone, I’m so sorry, we–”

“Spit it out,” the villain says flatly, and the henchman flinches slightly at their tone.

“You girlfriend.” The words that struggled so hard to be heard just a moment ago spill out like the henchman can’t control them. “It’s [Hero]. I’m so sorry, we tried to stop him but–”

They continue into the lair, leaving the henchman in an anxious mess by the door. They have all the information they need. They’re going to deal with it.

The hero has lived in the same shitty little house since the day they went their separate ways. A window cracked to let the breeze in, the light blinds drifting against the draft, gives the villain the perfect entrance as they clamber through and into the hero’s space.

They’re in the kitchen. The hero is sitting across from the window, bent over a bowl of cereal in the gloom of the lowered lights. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the villain standing in front of him, but his eyes don’t raise from the newspaper in front of him.

He finally graces them with his attention when their dagger buries into the paper and half the table beneath it next to his hand. The action doesn’t even make him flinch, and he meets their gaze with lazy expectancy.

“Where is she?” The words come out as a rough hiss, and the hero’s brows raise slightly at the question.

“Where’s who?” he asks innocently, and the villain has to take a deep breath to rein in their rage at his insolence.

“You know who.” They tear the blade from the wood to jab it in his face, though he looks like he couldn’t care less. “My men told me exactly what you did.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” The hero gets to his feet with a groan, stretching slightly as he does. The villain’s impatience is wearing dangerously thin, but he doesn’t seem to care as he slowly ambles out of the kitchen and down the corridor outside.

He pauses outside a door, fishing a key from out of his pocket. “You’re not the only one with a basement,” is all he says before he swings the door open and descends into the darkness beyond. The villain follows him aimlessly, thankful when he flicks a light on at the bottom of the steps.

The doubt they had about why the hero is trying to lure them into his basement of all places dissipates when they lay their eyes on their civilian, tightly bound to an uncomfortable looking chair, dry tear tracks streaking her face. She heaves a deep breath when she sees them, but she doesn’t say anything. The villain doesn’t feel the same.

“Holy shit, [Civilian], thank god,” they say as they start towards her, but they pause in their tracks when the glint of metal behind her catches their attention. They were never one to find guns particularly graceful, but they’ve never wanted one more as the hero levels the barrel with her head.

“Break up with her,” he demands simply.

“What?” The single word is laced with confusion and worry.

The hero shrugs. “Break up with her.”

“Who the hell do you think I am?” The villain takes another step towards her, but the hero’s stare hardening into a warning stops them in their tracks. “I thought you were a hero. The agency can’t allow you to do this.”

“They don’t control my life outside of work. I do my job. That’s all they need to know.” He unlatches the safety with a metallic click, and she lets out a whimper at the sound. “You know what I want. Break up with her before I do it for you.”

“If this is your way of getting back at me for setting fire to that empty building the other day you’re really fucked in the head,” they snap coldly. Their hand brushes against the dagger tucked back inside their coat, but they know they can’t do much with it from here.

“Are you stupid? This isn’t about work,” he spits. “It’s not even about her. It’s about us.”

The villain didn’t think their confusion could get any deeper. “We haven’t been friends for a long time, [Hero].”

“I– I know. I don’t want to be friends.” His hand lowers, glancing at the gun in his grip for a moment. “We made a promise a long time ago. Do you remember?”

Of course they do. It was the peak of their friendship – they’d laughed and hooked pinky fingers, presenting each other with makeshift bouquets of daisies and dandelions before the bell rang for class. I want nothing more than to be as carefree as that again, they think distantly. “Yeah,” is what comes out instead.

“I want to make good on that promise,” the hero states bluntly, a newfound confidence in him as he levelly meets their gaze, the gun raised to the civilian again. “I haven’t seen anyone for a while now, especially for this. For you.”

“I have a girlfriend that you’re currently pointing a gun at,” the villain points out irritably.

“Not if you break up with her, you don’t.”

The villain drops their gaze to the girl in front of him. The skin on her wrists is raw from ropes tied too tight with inexperience, her usual perfectly done makeup running tracks down her face. Leaving her would mean marrying the hero.

They take a deep breath, meeting their girlfriend’s eye with a look they know she’ll recognise. “I’m sorry, [Civilian]. I have to break up with you.” Their voice is flat, and she dips her gaze with a short nod.

“Tell her you can’t see her again.”

The villain stares at the hero incredulously, only met with that same expectancy. “Are you serious?”

The hero bumps the barrel against the civilian for emphasis. “We’re going to get married, [Villain]. I don’t want you seeing your exes.”

They sigh deeply, trying to weave a way out of this as the hero adds more stitches. “I can’t see you again.”

The hero nods approvingly, finally dropping the gun back into his belt. “Good.”

A taxi rumbles up outside, and the villain carefully helps the civilian inside whilst the hero watches from the gate. He steps up behind them the moment the door shuts, putting a hand on their shoulder. They tense at the contact, fearing the worst.

“We should probably be comfortable living together if we’re going to get married,” he says lightly. His grip on them tightening threateningly as they stare longingly at the taxi. “I don’t think the glass on a taxi is bulletproof,” he adds when he feels their reluctance. He makes sure to shift his position so that the gun on his belt catches the light.

“Okay, fine, jesus.” They lean down to the taxi driver’s window to give him the civilian’s address.

“Aren’t you… coming home?” she asks uncertainly, and the villain averts their gaze to avoid having to see how worried she is.

“I’m sorry,” is all they can find to say, and they lean back from the car, letting it pull away from the curb and down the road. The civilian watches them from the back window, giving them an unsure wave before disappearing around the corner.

“I’m so excited,” the hero continues, uncaring to the villain’s turmoil as they stare at the empty street. “We should start planning, hm?”

The hero guides them back into his house, and the villain is already devising a plan against him. If they can play up to his expectations they can catch him offguard. If their blade gets them out of the hero’s house and back to the civilian, they’ll use it. They’re going to leave this god forsaken place if it means the hero has to die for it.

(Part 2)

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writblr #heroes and villains #hero x villain #i guess technically tho its v one sided #villain x civilian #arranged marriage #i guess?#why do actual work when i can get serotonin from hehe make word count go up #also uh. if you noticed i use italics a lot no you didnt #i just like ~empahsis~#definitely not my best but yknow what? practise makes perfect #pinky promise

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