Broken
"You've robbed out of your childhood. Forced to mature quickly, all while barely knowing the love and the warmth of those who raised you. You tried, and tried, to be even to my level, to be the Saviour that everyone dreams of."
Hero snorts, casting their eyes away from Villain's scrutinising gaze.
"Oh, how they've invested in you — assembled and reassembled your anatomy, kept you hidden most of the time like their precious arsenal," Villain continues, "only for you to lose."
"Shut up." Their tone was heavy, laced with threat, but Hero still refused to look directly at the sharp, merciless pair of dark garnet eyes.
Villain raises Hero's chin, growing impatient with the continued defiance, "You've already lost. Why do you still need to play the hero?"
Instead, a single tear ran down their cheek. Hearing it escaping for the first time from someone they loathed possessed an effect they never thought to hurt this much.
They failed, they lost, and they must've disappointed so many who once believed them.
"Ah, there it is," Villain coos, grinning at the march of tears that followed, "my broken piece. My beautiful, beautiful broken piece. Now, all mine forevermore."
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Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present
"Where are they?"
"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"
"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"
"They're fine! Oh my god."
"Then where are they?"
The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."
"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"
The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.
"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.
"No."
The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."
"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"
The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.
The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.
"Their grandma died."
"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"
Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"
"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.
"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."
"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."
The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"
"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"
"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."
"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"
"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"
"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."
"I'm not giving you their number."
"Why not?"
"It's against policy."
"I'd like to express my condolences."
The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."
The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.
The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.
"I hate you too, don't worry."
"I should kill you."
"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."
They ended up glaring at each other.
"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"
The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."
Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.
They all made sure it didn't happen again.
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Supervillain monologuing to the entire civilization of Villains: I will burn this world down and remake it into a thriving, beautiful metropolis where we will all be free to do as we wish without all that bullshit --
Hero (leaning against the wall, studying their nails): Language.
*everyone turns to look at Hero in shock; they didn't see them come in*
Hero: Oh, were you having like an epic bad guy moment there? Sorry for that man, I’ll just back up and you take from the top…
Supervillain: What-what are you doing here? Didn't I kill you?
Villain (hanging from the ceiling): Yeah, well, it clearly didn't work did it?
Supervillain: AND DIDN'T I FIRE YOU?
Villain: *shrugs*
Supervillain: AND HOW DID YOU TWO EVEN GET IN THIS IS THE MOST FORTIFIED BUILDING IN THE WORLD?
Villain: Well I'm glad you asked allow me to explain my brilliant idea -
Hero: You mean my brilliant idea --
Supervillain: Why do I even bother -- what do you two want?
Hero: Um, it's literally in my name. I'm a hero. I'm here to beat up villains. So unless you can prove yourself to be a good guy in the next two seconds it’s gonna get ugly.
Villain: i am so in love with you right now.
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a villain that can hypnotise people through touch
The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.
“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.
“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”
“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”
“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”
The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”
“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”
The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.
“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”
The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.
“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”
“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”
“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”
The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”
“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”
The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”
“Then I come to you.”
“Stay away.”
The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.
“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”
“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.
“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”
It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.
“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”
The hero obediently follows them along.
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Despite being relatively well-liked amongst the villainous population of City, Hero hadn’t encountered this before: upon returning home, Villain, buried under their bed covers, chest rising and falling in listless sleep. Hero keeps the lights off as they shut the open window and change.
They lift the covers and slide underneath, filling the space beside Villain. Villain stirs, cracking an eye open.
“Well, well,” Hero whispers. “What’s a lovely little troublemaker like yourself doing in my bed?”
Curtain-filtered moonlight casts over their face. Villain’s lips quirk up in half a smirk. “Was looking for someone to hold. Somewhere to hide.”
“From Supervillain?”
“Yes.”
Locking legs and hands finding waists; rites of comfort. Affection and longing. Suddenly, they’re both so tired.
“Can we stay like this for a while? Before you arrest me?” Villain’s question is suspended between theirs and Hero’s lips.
“You kidding?” Hero replies. “I might keep you to myself all night.”
They never fail to make Villain smile. “Maybe I should be more afraid.”
“Absolutely. People say I’m terrifying, haven’t you heard?” They tug Villain close, soliciting a laugh.
Hero reads something unspeakable in Villain’s gaze. A singular love they’ll never need to define, for they’re the first to hold Hero’s heart this way.
After a minute, “For the record, no one says you’re terrifying.” They burrow into the embrace. “But this is.”
It breaks Hero. These moments when each passing second feels like a facture. When holding Villain isn’t enough and reality promises to tear them apart.
“I know.” They kiss the crown of their head. “But we have tonight.”
Hero plans on sleeping in and waking up alone.
—
snippet #3
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Villains who are polite and elegant while commiting crimes. Their fighting looks like a dance form. They're well-versed in how to act for/ preform for/ entertain the rich (they are the rich, "villainy pays well"). Genius (actual braindead idiot).
On the other hand, a hit-hard, ask-questions-after kind of hero. They're a disaster, and quite frankly help others because they don't know how (or don't want to) help themselves. Braindead idiot (accidental genius).
Now make it enemies to lovers.
Hero "hates" villain for their mannerism, but they're really just infatuated with them. Villain's taunts make them think about their actions.
Villain's attraction is "why are people in their midlife crisis so hot" and moronsexual™️. Hero makes their brain shortcircuit.
Hero: "Oh poor you, your perfect, greasy, pretty hair is singed."
Villain: Are they flirting or insulting me? God they're so bad at it no matter which on it is (It's both), that's so sexy
Hero, bruised and bloody, getting up with shaky legs, smiling. It's very attractive: "I've been hit harder"
Villain, nose bleeding: "Hello, sailor"
Villain, dusting off their now riped-in-shambles suit, and straightening the cuffs, "I just got this suit after you destroyed the last one. I would ask you to purchase me a new set of attire, but I doubt you can afford it."
Hero, their brain thinking 'No, I deffinately cannot' to 'I'd like to see them without the suit entirely' to 'Wait, what?' and 'God, I hate them, their lovely voice, their hair that smells like how honey tastes, the way they smile when they reveal their plans' and would really like to see villain without the suit entirely (even through villain looks great in all of their suits): "Just stop wearing suits and wear something that can handle me."
Villain, wondering if Hero is doing this on purpose (they aren't) and what their relationship even is: "Hot"
Hero: "What"
Villain: "What"
Hero: "Did you just call me ho-"
Villain, paniking: "You're on fire"
Hero: "???? No, I'm no-????"
Villain, pulling out a flamethrower and shooting Hero (dw they're flame-proof): hO t.
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Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!
My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!
Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!
Subtle
“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.
“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.
“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”
Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.
The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”
Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.
“Did you use antiseptic?”
“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.
“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”
They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.
“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.
Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.
Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.
“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.
The hero was always so full of surprises.
“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.
Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…
It was for their own good.
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The hero wrinkles their nose at smell of antiseptic wipes, at the cold feel against their skin, as the villain prepares to draw more blood. They've lost count how many vials Villain has taken at this point.
Hero winces, trying to flinch away at the inevitable sharp pinch, and Villain digs their fingers into their arm some more. They press hard, cold hands keeping them still. "If I mess up, I'll have to stick you again." They warn, voice level. Paper crinkles under where Hero sits, the soft sound filling the silence.
Hero keeps their gaze downward, the bright florescent lights over head giving them a headache. You think with how long they've been here, they would have gotten used to the ugly, artificial glare, but they miss the sun.
They look up at Villain through their lashes, who's currently too focused on their current task to notice, eyebrows pinched together as they seem deep in thought.
"I doubt you're even certified to be drawing blood in the first place." Hero ribs, voice quiet, the words light but the humor just quite not there.
Villain snorts, as they finish and pull the IV out gently. "I've seemed to be able to do it fine all these weeks." They apply the cotton bandage to the area, securing it in place, though it's honestly not necessary, the small wound already likely healed.
Hero knows they shouldn't be trying to make Villain laugh, or trying to lighten the tense air that surrounds their every interaction. They should be attempting to escape, should be fighting tooth and nail against the strange experiments their arch nemesis insists on trying, but so many failed escapes and so many weeks without the presence of any other person has them weak for any human contact they can get.
They've almost begun to mistake the way Villain grabs their arm when taking blood, the way Villain's cold hand holds their face still when swabbing their mouth, the way they stand close when checking their vitals, as misplaced forms of affection.
It's pure delusion, Hero knows this, but they crave another persons touch so much they can almost believe it. Thinking about it too much makes their head hurt more than even the obnoxious overhead lights do.
Villain takes their silence as a sign to continue speaking. "Soon enough, I'll find the secret behind how your regenerative abilities work and then I'll be unstoppable." They say cleaning up, and placing the three tubes of blood they took on the tray to their left. Hero's head swirls as they watch the swishing of the dark red liquid.
Facing them again, still standing close, Villain's eyes finally meet Hero's and their voice softens slightly when they say this next part. "I won't have to poke and prod you so much when I do." Their voice is gentle enough that Hero wants to believe them, to trust them.
Hero licks their dry lips, voice cracking slightly. "Will...will you finally let me go once you do?" The question Hero has been avoiding asking this whole time.
The question gives Villain pause, as they seem to consider it for a moment. They step closer, placing their hands on either side of where Hero sits, bracketing them in. "I could...I probably should.." Villain's voice is whisper quiet as they stand inches away, breath fanning over Hero's ear.
"But I think prefer keeping you for myself."
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Hostage situation
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day,” Hero murmured, clacking the silver spoon at the edge of the table, their eyes fixed still on the full plate before them.
“Eat, Hero.”
Their eyebrows furrowed in response, face twisting into a scowl. Hero lifted their head, looking to meet the others' eyes, thinking that, perhaps, they were just as unsure to face truthfully the other as they were.
Villain was not. Brown eyes which shined yellow under the warm light of the room faced them, straight and unwavering.
Hero averted theirs once again.
“You don’t care for what I have to say?”
“Not particularly,” Villain answered, “but if it means a lot to you, go right ahead.”
Hero swallowed
“I’ll take your deal,” they answered,quickly, as fast as they could to disguise the trembling of their voice. “I’ll support your case, I’ll make sure it gets to Superhero, to the President and the Ministry of Security, I’ll get Sidekick back to you.”
Swirling their wine on the cup, white to make good pair with the salmon, Villain nodded, solemnly and slowly, almost doubtfully, and yet the mere hint of a positive answer made Hero’s heart pound inside their chest. Not yet relief but the dread that came right before it.
“Oh Hero,” Villain answered, the tone of pity melting with their words “but you’ve already done that, my sidekick’s being transported to me right now. A hostage exchange if you may.”
The chain on their ankle rattled as they threw themselves back on the chair, blood pumping inside their ears.
“Are you letting me go? Am I going back with Superhero?!”
A moment of silence was followed by a deep, hoarse laugh, rumbling across the room and shaking if ever so slightly the silverware and glasses.
“Of course not sweet, sweet, dumb thing,” they answered “you’re staying right here with me, with us.”
Hero’s heart felt like falling from a thousand floors. And a deep, unescapable sentiment of despair felt like a cold sweat inducing fever dream.
“No!” Hero wailed, “No, no, no. You said that if, that when you, when Sidekick came back to you you would let me go, you promised! I told you I would take the deal.”
“You were too late, pet, you took too long, I want to keep you now.”
_
Masterlist
I'm very hopefully back, still working on my motivation to keep writing but making a good effort I promise.
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“Beg.”
Hero nearly stopped breathing at the command, they could feel the heat radiating off their face as they looked at Villain with wide eyes.
“Are you serious?” they demanded. “There is another villain terrorizing the city—a villain that you don’t want around either—and you want me to beg for your help?”
They were only met with an expectant stare from the Villain, a smug grin pulling at the corners of their lips.
Hero let out an annoyed huff, their face getting redder by the second. “Villain, I do not have time for your silly games. Are you going to help me or not?”
“I’m waiting,” Villain said in a sing-song voice. They leaned back in their chair, swiveling side to side in a carefree manner as they bore their eyes in the hero’s.
Hero heaved an embarrassed sigh, eyes cast down to the ground. “Please?”
“No, no. Not like that.” Villain shook their head with a breathless laugh. They snapped and pointed to the ground. “On your knees.”
Hero looked everywhere but at the villain. “Is this really necessary?”
“Do you really want my help?”
Hero’s gaze shot back to the villain, their finger still pointing down to the floor. Hero really did need their help, this other villain was too sharp, too quick. Hero needed Villain’s powers combined with their own to stop this other villain.
So they conceded. With a tomato red face and a chest heavy with shame, the hero sank to their knees. They kept their gaze locked onto the villain’s, hating the smirk that spread over their lips.
“Please, help me,” they begged. Their heart rate picked up as Villain leaned forward in their seat, elbows resting on their knees.
“Say it again.”
An involuntary shiver ran down the hero’s back at the dominance that coated the villain’s voice, and Hero knew that Villain would never let them live this moment down.
“Please,” their voice crack over the word. “Help me.”
“Again.”
“Please, help me.” It came out in a whisper, the shame finally getting to the hero. They watched as Villain rose from their seat and crossed the distance between them with a few steps. They crouched down to Hero’s level, a hand coming up to grip their chin. They held eyes with the hero for what could have been hours but Hero knew was probably only a few seconds before rising again.
“You know, I was going to help anyway,” Villain said with a chuckle. “Be ready in five minutes.”
They began to leave their office without another word, leaving Hero to sit in self-loathing for a solid minute before they, too, rose and followed Villain out.
“You’re sick, you know,” they called out, earning a hearty laugh from their nemesis.
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Villain clutched their undoubtedly broken ribs and stared up at Superhero from their position on the ground. Their glare would be more effective were it not so pained.
Superhero stared back idly, as if dealing with a minor annoyance. "Any last words before I rid this world of your pathetic existence?"
"I thought heroes didn't kill people."
"Yes, well. Not officially." Superhero delivered a hard kick to Villain's jaw, knocking them down. "But accidents happen."
Villain spit out the fresh blood in their mouth and tried to stop their head from spinning. "Does the agency know their trophy hero is a murderer?"
Superhero smiled. "Oh, darling. Who do you think handles the coverup?"
So what, were all heroes like this then? Were they morals just an act? Hero wouldn't do this. Their Hero wouldn't. But their Hero wasn't here to save them.
As if reading their mind, Superhero spoke again. "Shame Hero isn't here to see this. I'm sure they'd love to come and give their little speach about being better than our enemies, but they got a little...caught up at the headquarters."
"Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with that?"
Superhero flashed their public smile. The one they gave to the press and city officials. Villain knew their real smile was much darker. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
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Warmth
"Most absurd is," Hero scowls, "you cuddling me to sleep on the basis of a fever—do you really have a fever?"
"Mmhm, all thanks to you." Villain craddles Hero closer, full lips settling to the top of Hero's head.
"Then, why are you the big spoon?"
"The sick one gets a pass, now hush and sleep."
And they did, a blissful one — surprisingly even to Hero, who has been suffering from recent episodes of insomnia.
Little did Hero know, aside from controlling the flames, Villain can also regulate his body temperature freely.
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Love your writing! Can I request a hero that likes being controlled by the villain because they get relief from their anxiety/stressful life but they are denying it because they don’t want to admit to being overwhelmed?
"Oh god, you're back."
The villain smirked at that particular greeting and inclined their head in acknowledgement. "Long time no see, hero mine."
Anticipation had the hero's heart drumming double time. They shifted their weight, hold tightening on the battered strap of their rucksack. The street was empty, all curtains conspicuously drawn, but there was nothing actually blocking any exits. They could run. They weren't far from home. They might even make it.
"It's okay," the villain said, tucking their hands into their pockets. "You can try, I won't be offended. I know you prefer pretending that you don't like this. That you don't crave this."
"I don't."
"No?" The villain's tone was soft, but their eyes gleamed in the glow of the lampposts. Their gaze was somewhere between gently mocking and not so gently fond. "You're lucky you lie so pretty. It means I'll let you off with a warning. Just the one, because I've heard you've had a rough week."
The hero swallowed.
The week had been exhausting. Atlas would have buckled beneath the weight of the last week too. Anyone would. Wouldn't they? Maybe that was why, beneath the panic of seeing the villain again, there was a much more terrifying chasm of relief. Dizzy, desperate relief. The kind of longing that left a person brained by it. Dumb.
"You heard about that?" the hero asked, in a small voice, even if it was entirely not the point.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
The hero shuddered, to hear the villain say it so bluntly. Maybe if they hadn't, the hero could pretend - what? That somewhere along the way monstrosity and miracle had blurred together like wet watercolours?
"You could walk away," the hero said.
"I could," the villain agreed, placidly. They didn't move though.
"Would you if I asked you to?"
The villain's head tilted, considering the hero at that.
"Mm, I don't think so," they decided eventually. "Then you'd feel like you had to ask. It goes better when you don't have any choice in this matter, doesn't it?"
"You can't just - you can't say that."
"No?" the villain's lip curled up again. They closed the gap between them, casually confident. "You asked."
"Well, yes - but." The hero didn't have a good way to finish the sentence. Mainly because they should have been horrified. They were horrified! It was only..."You're not supposed to say it." The crack in their voice felt far too much like confession. "It's not right."
"Yeah. I'd say you should stop feeling so guilty about liking it so much, but honestly it's entirely too delicious watching you squirm."
The hero made a choked, incoherent sound in their throat. They took a step back, not remotely surprised when the villain's hand snaked eel-fast around their back.
"Ah, ah," the villain said. "You already had your chance to run. Go easy."
The hero felt the very moment that something switched in the villain's voice, their powers humming a siren song in the hero's bones. They felt their body turn to putty as they blinked at the villain, wide-eyed. Their hands settled comfortably on the villain's chest, not pushing back.
It wasn't...it wasn't exactly that their brain switched off, only that everything in them suddenly refused to fully recognise the danger. And there was danger, they knew that, but...
But for the first time since they'd last seen the villain, the knot in their chest loosened. They didn't feel one small straw or loud noise or well-meaning question away from bursting pitifully into tears.
"Good," the villain murmured. "Just like that. There you are. Deep breaths."
Up close, the villain took a moment to study them properly. The hero let them look. Minutes ago, they might have tried to hide, ashamed by the blatant dark circles under their eyes, by everything that the villain would see, but in that second...
The villain's lips thinned a fraction. "I've been away on business for too long, haven't I? Sorry about that."
"How was business?"
The villain didn't bother answering that question, more concerned with grazing their thumb along the swell of the hero's lip where they'd bitten it raw. Their eyes darkened further.
"You look annoyed," the hero said.
"You could have called me, you know."
"Why would I do that?"
"Why would you-" For a second, it seemed like the villain might say something. Then, they simply sighed, and shook their head, muttering something under their breath. They pivoted, so they were at the hero's side instead, snagging the hero's heavy bag onto their own shoulders.
"Walk." The command hummed through the villain's voice again. "I think we've both had enough of your idiot brain for today. You're done for the week."
Every time the villain let them go, it was harder to force themselves to leave.
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"We need to -- "
"Kiss?"
"No we need to save the hospital -- wait what?"
(Reformed Villain jumps across four rooftops) "FIRST ONE TO THE BURNING HOSPITAL WINS!"
"VILLAIN WHAT?"
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prompt #103
“How was I supposed to know you loved me?”
The villain raised an arched brow at them in disbelief. “It was obvious.”
“You threw me off a fifteen story building the other week alone.”
“In the name of love.”
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“What surprise awaits me today?” Hero leans against the bars of Villain’s cell, smiling. It’s their daily ritual, something Villain hates to admit they always look forward to. Hero is kind to them.
“You have such high expectations of me. You guilt me delivering them.”
“And you never disappoint.” Hero drops their head to meet Villain’s eyes from outside the cell. Villain smirks like they’re sharing a secret.
They hate that this is the happiest they’ve ever been—behind bars, swooning at the attention of the hero who put them there.
Villain retreats to a small desk in the corner of their cell. It’s littered with graphite drawings, a privilege granted for ‘good behavior.’ Villain scoffs at the irony, but decides not to challenge it.
They return to the bars, slipping a choice drawing through. Their fingers brush against Hero’s as the drawing is passed along. It’s calculated, Villain knows it. Just like the visits—a prescription to keep them from going off the rails and trying to escape. Villain swallows the medicine.
“Beautiful. As always.” It’s a landscape. A recreation of something they sketched years earlier. Hero seems pleased.
Emboldened by their reaction, Villain tests, “When do I get a surprise from you?”
Hero is nothing if not generous. They play along. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?”
“Give me a hint?” Villain sets a hand on the bar, They shift their weight so the motion is hidden from a security camera in the corner.
Hero isn’t phased by the gesture. “What would you want from me anyways?”
“Hm…” Villain trails. “Something genuine. Something beautiful. That’s what my art is to you, isn’t it? You should return the favor one of these days.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
For a moment, Hero’s hand finds Villain’s against the metal cell before they leave. Villain knows their routine by heart. They know Hero will never return their affections unless they need information or expertise out of them. But they’re content to play along, bask in a bit of that attention.
Villain believes Hero is kind. But at night, Villain does everything to squash the fractional piece of their heart that believes Hero cares for them.
Hero appears outside Villain’s cell late one afternoon.
“Where’ve you been?” Villain asks, approaching the bars. “It’s nearly dark. I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.” They keep their voice light, agreeable.
“I’d never. I just needed to prepare something.”
Villain crosses their arms. “And do I get to know what that is?”
Hero is beaming. “Of course. I tell you all my secrets.” Liar. “Come here.”
Villain indulges them and steps forward. Before they know it, Hero grips their arms and pulls them close. They embrace through the bars of the cell. Villain’s stomach plunges and their eyes dart towards the security camera.
“What are you—“
“I’m looping the footage. We should have about five minutes before it goes back to normal.”
Villain focuses on Hero. “Are you crazy? What the fuck are you—“
“You wanted a surprise,” Hero interrupts. They grip Villain’s side, steadying them. “How’s this for one?”
Hero’s lips crash against Villain’s before they can comprehend the fingers lacing through their hair. They can’t believe this is happening. They give into the desire they’ve been fighting since their first battle with Hero.
They part slowly. Villain keeps their gaze low. “Why did you do that?” They mutter.
“I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while.”
Rationally, Villain knows it’s not the best idea to trust a hero. “We’re enemies. You put me in prison.”
Hero grins. “But, you have to admit. Now we get to see each other more often!”
Despite everything, Villain can’t deny the gesture. “You’re insane.”
“You know, we still have four minutes. Care to do it again?” With a nod from Villain, Hero takes the lead and connects their lips again.
Villain supposes they can figure out what this means for their relationship tomorrow.
—
snippet #12
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