#heroes vs villains war

[chaotic-orphan]

Hi, are you still continuing vendetta? It was really good, cant wait for the next part! no rush though :)

Vendetta — part six

Read part one here

Continued from here

I finally got around to finishing this!!!! Honestly, I had the plot, the ideas, everything sorted and then I blanked because — GUESS WHO DIDN’T CONSIDER HERO’S POWER?!?!!! It was me :] anyways! It is done!!!

*~*~*~*~*

Villain led Hero and Vigilante back out through the hole in the med bay towards the courtyard of the Guild where Hero had spent many hours training and sparring throughout their life. Superhero used to stand on the raised platform at the top of the courtyard so they could observe everyone’s progress during training. Now it was empty and it left a numb feeling in Hero’s chest.

Villain marched them up the platform steps and towards the back of it, to the Guild offices. Hero frowned. Why was Villain taking the time to ensure they weren’t seen? Hero could hear the commotion of Villains somewhere in and around the Guild, why not parade them through the masses?

Hero stepped closer to Vigilante when Villain opened the door for them and nodded at them to walk through.

“Stay close to me,” Vigilante whispered as they obeyed Villain’s order.

Hero didn’t need to be told twice. Hero didn’t know how many times they had been through here, how packed with people it used to be. People Hero knew. Now it was empty, it left a hole in Hero’s heart. Now they only had Vigilante to cling to for it to feel normal. They passed Doctor’s office, other Hero’s office and went straight for Superhero’s. Dread pooled in Hero’s gut as Villain knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a voice called from inside that wasn’t Superhero. Villain smiled at Hero, then opened the door. Villain pushed Vigilante ahead of them with a quick, hard shove. Vigilante stumbled forward, barely catching themselves. Villain didn’t give them a second before they delivered another hard shove that sent Vigilante to their knees in front of Superhero’s desk.

Except Superhero wasn’t sitting behind the desk.

Hero’s feet refused to move. They were rooted in place just inside the doorway because Villain blocked their only exit route behind them. They just stood in the doorway, mind going blank with horror as they faced Supervillain.

Supervillain sitting in Superhero’s chair. Where Superhero should be sitting, where they always sat but instead the cause of all Hero’s nightmares and grief occupied the spot instead.

This was the man that killed Doctor, that ordered for Doctor to die; for Hero to die. That forced Vigilante to kill that girl and Hero to fight more battles than they ever should have seen.

The cause for Hero’s entire world being on fire.

Supervillain smiled at Hero briefly, then his eyes went to Vigilante. The smile remained on his face but his eyes turned sharper, something cruel glinting in them. Something monstrous and hungry.

“Vigilante, so nice of you to drop by. I heard you joined the other side,” he said, his voice liquid smooth like mercury, both alluring and dangerous. There was a soft rumble to it in the back of his throat that made it that much more enticing, like you wanted to listen to him.

“I’m on Hero’s side,” Vigilante spat. “Not yours or the Heroes.”

“You put yourself in opposition to me, Vigilante. I don’t care for the reason, but,” Supervillain said, eyes flickering up to Hero who stood frozen at the door. “Fat lot of good it did you considering you’re both here now.”

Hero should do something. They should do… something! Think of a clever way out or something they could bargain with but their mind was blank, too busy sending racing thoughts zooming through their mind like shooting stars, too fast to catch, than having the ability to think properly. Everything in their chest seemed to lodge at the base of their throat and they were surprised they were still able to breathe normally.

“Yeah? Untie me and we’ll see how much good I can inflict.”

Supervillain laughed, Hero flinched at the sound. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Two ice coloured eyes found Hero’s and froze them in place even more so than before. Supervillain’s lips spread into a charming smile, exposing the contours of his face and jaw.

“Are you frightened, little Hero?” Supervillain asked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Hero. Vigilante glanced at Hero over their shoulder before getting to their feet and stepping in Supervillain’s view.

“Don’t look at them when I’m talking to you,” Vigilante spat. Supervillain let out a small huff of a laugh. As if Vigilante was a puppy puffing out it’s chest.

“I always admired your scrappy nature, Vigilante. It’s what endeared Villain to you in the first place.”

“Let me go and I’ll show you just how adorable I can be.”

“No need,” Supervillain said getting to his feet. The wooden legs of the chair scrapped against the wooden floor. Hero was too aware that their entire body had started to tremble during Vigilante’s and Supervillain’s chat.

They couldn’t move.

They couldn’t breathe.

They couldn’t…

stop…

shaking.

They should be right beside Vigilante defending them. Instead they stood useless. Watching everything as if it was on television… it seemed so unreal, so faraway. Their body felt so far from reach and they couldn’t order it to move, to react — to do anything but shake uselessly beside the door.

Supervillain walked around the desk and raised his hand to backhand Vigilante.

Hero’s heart lurched in their chest.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Supervillain’s arm twitched, the movement telling of his intention to hurt Vigilante. Vigilante hadn’t stepped back, instead they bared their teeth, a flash of white pulling their lips into a vicious grimace. Accepting their fate but it didn’t matter.

Suddenly Hero was the subject of two grinning eyes gleaming down at them. They didn’t know they had moved until their eyes registered that Supervillain now stood in front of them, smile as sharp as barbed wire, and hungrier than a starved lion’s.

Hero tightened their grip on Supervillain’s wrist in their steady hand, Vigilante pushed behind them protectively with their other.

“Ah,” Supervillain said softly. “There you are, little Hero.”

Hero’s heart crashed against their chest hard, more jarring then being stranded in the desert. Fear circled in their gut like a vulture waiting for its quarry to die.

“Here I am,” Hero replied, voice even and steady. How the fuck was their voice so even?! They didn’t want to question it in case the courage decided to abandon them. “That means you don’t lay a finger on Vigilante.”

Hero shoved Supervillain’s hand back towards his chest, who smiled at the audacity of them. Hero stood sturdier than a wall between Supervillain and Villain on one side, and Vigilante protected behind them.

Supervillain’s smile grew more into a grin as he looked down at Hero. “You really are as magnificent as they say.”

Hero tilted their head up. “Wish I could return the compliment.”

“So bold, Hero. I guess Superhero never thought to put manners on you.”

“They were too busy training me to beat Villains like you.”

A warm chest pressed against Hero’s back. Vigilante whispered a soft, exasperated: “Hero.”

Supervillain noticed the warning, eyes flashing back to Vigilante. “Hey,” Hero said, gaining Supervillain’s attention again. “You’re taking to me. Don’t look at Vigilante.”

“But they did such a good job of getting you here,” Supervillain purred. Cruel eyes met Hero’s, and Hero would be lying if they said their stomach didn’t twist into knots at the thought of Vigilante betraying them but they knew Vigilante would never do that. Supervillain was just trying to scare them.

“Nice try, maybe have Villain not tie them up next time and I’ll believe you.”

“Oh so cute. You think there will be a next time, for Vigilante, hmm?”

Hero froze at the question. They hadn’t ever considered being without Vigilante, not being able to see them. But surely… surely Supervillain couldn’t do that, could he?

Supervillain leaned down close to Hero, and Hero, thankfully didn’t flinch at the closeness. They did, however, flinch when Supervillain said: “gotcha” with a chilling smile.

Hero didn’t know Supervillain’s plan, their power, that’s something he had always kept close to the chest so Hero just assumed he was powerless but what if he wasn’t? What then? Supervillain didn’t make any information public or readily available, his closest circle were all loyal to a fault— so what… was his power? Did he have one? Was he just trying to scare Hero?

Supervillain straightened, all humour gone from his face.

“Thank you, Villain, for bringing them both to me. As a reward, I’ll let you decide what you want to do with Vigilante.”

“No,” Vigilante ground out. Hero was frozen, again. Useless! So useless. Their hands itched to reach for their swords but their swords were safely in the possession of Villain, far from Hero. If they moved to Villain first then that would leave Vigilante open for Supervillain and somehow Hero trusted Villain more than Supervillain.

Villain wasn’t going to kill Vigilante, they had said so!

Hero stood powerless in front of Supervillain.

“Thank you, Supervillain,” said Villain. Then he moved towards Vigilante and Hero twisted hands spread out but they couldn’t do anything if Supervillain and Villain attacked at once.

“Come on Hero,” said Villain with a knowing stare.

Hero just bared their teeth in reply. Then there was a hand on Hero’s shoulder and one on their wrist, twisting Hero’s arm up their back. Hero gasped as they felt the familiar wash of ice through their veins when their ability was subduing another powered individual’s.

So Supervillain did have an ability.

“Hah,” Supervillain breathed behind Hero, pausing for a moment. “I knew it. No wonder Superhero kept you so close.”

Hero didn’t reply. They just slammed their head backwards. It stopped before impact and Hero could feel Villain’s power holding them. Shit. They needed Supervillain to stop touching them or they were going to lose Vigilante.

Villain was already behind Vigilante their hand on the back of Vigilante’s neck. Villain tilted their head at Supervillain.

“Do you want their swords?”

“Yeah,” Supervillain said behind Hero and Hero shot backwards. Supervillain quickly subduing them again by pushing their wrist further up their back until Hero cried out. “Leave them anywhere. That will be all. Thank you, Villain.”

“Hero!” Vigilante cried, struggling against Villain’s hold until they went still. Vigilante’s eyes met Hero’s with a determined desperation in them and Hero shook their head as tears sprung to their eyes. “We’ll get out of this, okay? Somehow. I’ll find you again!”

“I love you,” Hero whispered, not caring that the villains could hear them. Villain started to drag Vigilante from the office, steering him half with his power and half with his hands.

“I’ll find you Hero!” Vigilante yelled. “I love you, Hero. I’ll always—”

Hero started crying freely when Villain took Vigilante’s voice. Supervillain’s grip tightened on Hero’s wrist at the quiet hitches in Hero’s breath that was all too telling, but they didn’t care. They didn’t care if Supervillain knew they were crying or not, this wasn’t supposed to end like this!

The Villains weren’t supposed to win! And where the fuck was Superhero in all this? Why weren’t they stopping Supervillain?

Hero froze when a hand went to the top of their hair. Fingers lacing through the strands and running down, before starting from the top again.

“Sssh, sh, shh like Hero,” said Supervillain, while they pet Hero like a dog. Was he trying to be soothing or did he know this was creepy?! “Everything will be over soon enough. All this fighting. You’ll see how pointless it was to go against me in the first place.”

Hero shuddered at his voice, the certainty of his words but they were too tired to fight back anymore. Their heart still aching for Vigilante and the terror of not knowing where they were or what was being done to them.

Supervillain’s next words chilled Hero to the bone. “I think it’s time to rally the troops, don’t you?”

*~*~*~*~*

The Orphanage roll-call (tag-list lmk if you want to be added or removed <3): @micechomper @aarika-merrill

#Vendetta #Vendetta series #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #villain #hero #writing #whump writing #orphan writing #orphan #whump fic #whump story #hero whumpee #supervillain whumper #evil whumper #intelligent whumper #intelligent villain #vigilante x hero #hero x vigilante #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #heroes vs villains war #war whump #war time whump #my writing #whump #emotional whump

[hegodamask]

It's so funny watching these Star Wars YouTubers who thrive off outrage try to come for Andor. They be like "It was BORING. It put me to SLEEP. Only PRETENTIOUS people like it." Then a second later be like "It was a good show though."

They know Andor is too solid to be taken down by the normal drivel they churn out and they know a lot of their own viewers like it as well.

But being positive about something doesn't get the views or fit with the "evil Kathleen Kennedy is ruining Star Wars on purpose" narrative. So they just end up tying themselves in knots over it and making an ass out of themselves.

Living in their heads rent free, babey!

#Andor #think i've posted about this before but SWT's latest video is such a prime example #claiming andor is for pretentious people and then seeing his own viewers saying they're fans of it is just *chef's kiss* #and i'm not saying andor is above criticism but it doesn't fit the usual culture war outrage cycle these youtubers make their money off #you can tell it makes them. so mad. #and SWT operates on the belief that only Dave Filoni can save Star Wars from Kathleen Kennedy and Disney. #It's a black and white heroes vs villains situation for him #so when Tony Gilroy comes along with good writing and no reverence for Star Wars and it's like he can't compute that #kinda fascinating really

[short-wooloo]

I had a thought about that line from the opening crawl of Revenge of the Sith

"There are heroes on both sides"

A lot of people took this to mean there are good and bad people on both sides, but the thing is, nothing really supports this

The Republic and those who fight for it are 9 times out of 10 the good guys, and the separatists are invariably horrible monsters (and the ones who aren't are next to useless)

So maybe "there are good and bad people on both sides" was not the meaning there

Perhaps it's more along the lines of "villains is the heroes of another story/heroes are the villains of another story"

From the out of universe perspective, the republic-despite it's issues-is good, and the separatists-despite their claims-are bad, worse than the republic

But in universe who is the hero and who is the villain depends on perspective

To the separatists, Dooku/Grievous/Trench/etc are the "heroes" and the Jedi/Republic heroes are the villains

Even if that's not how it really is

#wooloo-writes #wooloo writes #both sides are not the same #star wars #sw #revenge of the sith #rots #“heroes on both sides” #as in #a villain is the hero of another story #count dooku #general grievous #admiral trench #they're all bad people #but to a person on the separatists side or being fed their propaganda #they're “heroes” #the clone wars #anyways star wars is a tale of good vs evil #black and white #there is nuance and shades of grey in the good and evil respectively #but its still good and evil

[stairset]

I do think it’s kinda funny seeing Thrawn fans be like “they’re gonna ruin him by portraying him as a villain” like we are talking about this guy right

#and before anyone accuses me of not knowing things i do know yes i know full well that he is a complex character #yes i have read the canon thrawn books (not the ascendancy books yet but the first three) #(i haven't bought many sw books lately aside from battle scars cause i'm still between jobs and don't have an infinite bank account) #and yes i know about the whole tug-of-war with rebels wanting to make him a threatening villain #vs the books wanting to make him more of a sympathetic anti-hero #and i do think it's possible to reconcile those seemingly contradictory characterizations #but my point is this is a sequel to the show where he was the main villain for the entire second half #(and need i remind you the show that made him canon again in the first place) #so like if you're NOT expecting him to be villainous in it you're kinda setting yourself up for disappointment #grand admiral thrawn #star wars #star wars rebels #shut up tristan

[tngmpersonal]

I would love to see the next Smash Bros. game (or any other fighting game, really) to have a rival system. Don't get me wrong, I love Ultimate's more personalized Classic Mode routes, but after playing Smash Remix, I want another gauntlet where the opponents are picked at random except for one of the last rounds where the opponent changes depending on the player's character. You pick Mario, either Bowser or Luigi await towards the end. Pick Ganondorf (a character who is infamously known for getting into the series through crunch development) and the rivals are villains like King K. Rool or a newcomer like Raven Beak (later additions with more deliberate designs). Picking Andy would have Marth, Robin, or Byleth at the end because both Advance Wars and Fire Emblem are turn-based strategies.

Come to think of it, the only platform fighter that I know with a rival system would be Shovel Knight showdown. Anyone know any others?

#It would be too easy if said rival system relied too much on hero vs. villain fights #super smash bros. #fgc #fighting games #platform fighter #Nintendo #Super Mario #Mario #Bowser #Luigi #Ganondorf #Legend of Zelda #Donkey Kong Country #King K. Rool #Raven Beak #Metroid #Andy #Advance Wars #Nintendo Wars #Fire Emblem #Marth #Robin #Byleth Eisner #Shovel Knight

[pocketramblr]

An AU where everyone is simping for Giran, please.

*also cackles* ok I can do that

1- Everyone simping for Giran is why he's allowed to do whatever he wants, alignment wise. AfO was pissed when he heard one of his brokers was still aiding not only heroes, but rival villians. Until he went to threaten in person, saw who it was, and was like,,, "ok you're allowed to do that." Giran is like "I know, I do business with whoever I respect." AfO is simultaneously flattered and low-key scheming to make others lose Giran's respect so he chooses to not work with them after all.

2- Everyone simping for Giran is also a part of recruitment tactics. Compress and Magne were both down for a good time. Dabi is repressing it but the amount of daddy issues he has, you know he's thinking it a little bit. Twice regularly confesses his love.

3- Tomura, Spinner, and Toga are exceptions. Spinner is too caught up in Stain, then too in love with Tomura. Tomura, on the other hand, grew up with Kurogiri who kept trying to impress Giran via alcohol, and is just done with the whole idea.

4- There are so many jokes about being a damsel in distress when the MLA kidnap him. Multiple generals try to offer Giran deals if he joins them. He laughs. Re-Destro does not take rejection well.

5- but here, since Twice is a simp instead of just a terrible friend, things go better! He refuses to join the MLA after what they did to Giran, and the rest of the league agree. Tomura tells Re-Destro "whatever, I just want your money and people or I'll kill you". There is a schism, with many joining the League after their show of strength, and many refusing to leave the MLA. Re-Destro is replaced with Skeptic the new head of the faction, while Trumpet joins under Tomura and brings a bit of money and power. Dabi tells Hawks that he's going to send him undercover to spy on the remains of the MLA, which means Hawks is now like, a double agent squared. A nesting doll double agent.

#that would have huge consequences for the plot ig #since instead of a unified attack vs heroes #it's like a civil war of villains #but hey. simp for giran -> don't get got by Hawks #gentrychild #pocket talks to people #ask game

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 102

Circling the chair, a tense standoff unfolded between two contrasting figures. One, with an aura of mischief, stood boldly, while the other, marked by recent turmoil, faced them with a mix of defiance and curiosity.

"Come on, join the fun," the mischievous one urged with a playful grin. "Let's stir things up a bit."

The other shook their head adamantly, refusing to be swayed. "I won't be a part of your reckless schemes."

But the mischievous one persisted, undeterred by the rejection. "You can't deny there's a spark between us. Why not embrace it?"

As they bantered back and forth, the tension crackled, reaching a crescendo with the sudden intrusion of a radio broadcast. Its announcement labeled one of them as a fugitive, casting a shadow of suspicion over their interaction.

Curses escaped the accused's lips as their secret was laid bare. The mischievous one couldn't help but feel a surge of intrigue, wondering what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface.

"I got too close to something I shouldn't have," the accused confessed, their voice laced with desperation. "I've been on the run for months."

Moved by their vulnerability, the mischievous one approached cautiously, sensing an opportunity amidst the chaos. As they drew nearer, a forbidden attraction simmered beneath the surface, threatening to ignite.

"What if we took them down together?" the accused proposed, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. "And then you can decide if you want to be the hero."

The mischievous one chuckled, seeing through the facade with ease. "You got yourself caught on purpose, didn't you?"

Caught off guard, the accused hesitated before admitting the truth. "Maybe," they conceded, a hint of mischief dancing in their gaze.

#story prompts #villains #heroes #villains x heroes #enemies to lovers #writing prompt #fiction #plot ideas #antagonist #protagonist #romance #adventure #fantasy #action #drama #character development #conflict #twists #turns #unexpected #triumph #betrayal #redemption #suspense #between good and evil #love and war #good vs bad #darkness and light #forbidden love #epic battle

[fuckyeahstufficareabout]

My friend was Leia and I was Luke and this was an epic HvV 😩

#if only every match was this good instead of usually sucking because we get bad teammates lol #battlefront 2 #swbf2 #star wars battlefront 2 #heroes vs villains #Luke Skywalker #Youtube

[darthkieduss]

This is the most cartoon hero vs. villain dialogue I've seen in a Star Wars book. Very Zurg vs Lightyear "I will destroy you Skywalker! *evil laugh*"

Exar Kun: They can't hear you, Skywalker-but I can. Luke Skywalker: Exar Kun. Kun: Do you enjoy having your spirit trapped away from your body, Skywalker? I have had four thousand years to get accustomed to it. The first century or two is the worst. Skywalker: You corrupted my students, Exar Kun. You caused the death of Gantoris. You turned Kyp Durron against me. Kun: *evil laughs* Perhaps it was your own failings as a teacher. Or their own delusions. Skywalker: What makes you think I'll stay like this for thousands of years? Kun: You will have no choice, once I have destroyed your physical body. Trapping my own spirit inside these temples was the only way I could survive when the final holocaust came. The allied Jedi Knights devastated the surface of Yavin IV. They killed off the few Massassi people I had kept alive, and they destroyed my own body in the inferno. My spirit was forced to wait and wait and wait until finally you brought your Jedi students here, students who could hear my voice once they learned how to listen. Skywalker: You can't harm my body, Kun. You can't touch anything physical. I've tried it myself. Kun: Ah, but I know other ways to fight. And I have had endless millennia to practice. Rest assured, Skywalker, I will destroy you.

#Exar Kun #Luke Skywalker #Yavin IV #Star Wars Legends #Champions of the Force #Hero vs villain #evil laugh #evil laughter #I will destroy you #cartoon villains #cartoon villain #Taylor Swift #Jedi Academy #Jedi Academy books #Evil laugh

[dylan-welcome-bot]

⚠️FLASHING LIGHTS WARNING⚠️

More like, Darth Faul!

Get it because like gravity and stuff?

#star wars battlefront 2 #star wars #heros vs villains #bespin #prequel trilogy #original trilogy #sequel trilogy #obi wan kenobi #darth vader #darth maul #darth faul #you know #like fall? #sorry #luke skywalker #kylo ren #emperor palpatine in the back #and I think that was han solo who was defeated but idk

[chaotic-orphan]

please please continue vendetta

Vendetta: part Four

Part one here

Part two here

Continued from part three here

Oh I absolutely will, Vendetta is my happy fic, you can't stop me... Also sorry for the delay, and it is also Unedited :p enjoyy!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero and Vigilante had only walked down the corridor towards the medical ward when Medic and Teleport popped out in front of the doors, looking a little worse for wear.

Medic’s stumbled forward, throwing their weight against the doors they opened, Villains pushing on them, shouting and taunting Medic. Hero’s hands went to the hilt of their blades in anticipation for the inevitable breach. Vigilante threw their hands up, running to Medic’s aid, slamming their whole telepathic strength against the doors just long enough for Medic to step back, fingertips growing a sickly green to seal it. Sure enough the space between the doors disappeared until they were fused as one. Then Medic focused on the hinges, fusing them to the walls, until the doorway that was once there was a solid wall.

The Villains wouldn’t be getting through. At that realisation Hero’s hands relaxed from the hilts of their blades.

Medic dropped their hands and sagged against the wall, looking up at Hero and Vigilante with a nod. Medic did a double take when they saw Vigilante, their eyes burning with fury. Before Hero could step in, Medic had lunged and grabbed Vigilante by the collar of their shirt and slammed them back against the opposite wall.

“Medic!” Hero cried.

“Medic get off them!” Teleport said, voice strained, exhausted, deflated. She was leaning her body weight on the wall, half bent in relief that there would be no more fighting.

“You let them in, Vigilante, didn’t you?”

“Medic I swear—“

Medic pulled Vigilante forward and slammed them back against the wall, silencing Vigilante’s defence into a soft oomph.

“You swore once before, Vigilante, I won’t let you make a fool of us again.”

“Medic!” Hero said, putting a hand on Medic’s fist keeping Vigilante pinned. Hero knew Vigilante could have used their power by now to get Medic off them, Medic knew that too, distantly, but Vigilante let it play out for whatever reason.

“Medic,” Hero said again softer, and Medic turned to look at Hero.

Hero had to swallow the gasp. Their eyes were red and bruised from crying, their bright blue eyes brighter from tears and their sclera painted with burst blood vessels.

“Doct—“ Medic began with a sniffle, words turning watery as they met Hero’s eyes. “Doctor’s dead. He’s dead…”

Behind them Hero heard Teleport let out a strangled sob, trying to quieten it as much as possible. Hero nodded sympathetically, and said, “I’m so sorry, Medic.”

Medic started shaking, his shoulders bunching as he turned his face back to Vigilante. Pain turning furious as he curled his fists into the fabric of Vigilante’s shirt, pinning them back painfully.

“And it’s all Vigilante’s fault.”

“Medic I didn’t, I swear. It was [random Villain]. You have to believe me. I would never target the medical ward.”

“And yet you’re somehow here now?!” Medic growled, almost animalistic. Medic’s fingertips started glowing a sickly green, and Hero fought to push Medic off Vigilante. “Maybe I should seal your lungs and see how you like it.”

“Medic stop it! You’re not thinking straight,” Hero said, drawing their sword at their lower back. Medic glanced at Hero, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You gonna fight me, Hero?”

“If no one else will knock the sense into you, yeah. I’ll do the job.”

Medic sniffed, but after a moment his fingertips stopped glowing and he stepped back from Vigilante. Hero let out a sigh of relief, sheathing their blade again with a shink.

Medic took another step back, pinched the bridge of his nose, then collapsed. Hero’s hands shot out to catch him but Vigilante was quicker, grabbing Medic’s arm and under his armpit, gently slowing his descent. Medic groaned as Vigilante propped him up against the wall, folding in on Vigilante’s strong hands keeping him sitting upright.

“Medic?” Teleport asked. Medic looked down at their stomach to see a patch of blood slowly grow, dark and fast.

“Shit…” Medic groaned, putting a hand on his side and lifting his shirt with a grunt. Hero gasped when they saw the large gash slashed deep across the right side of Medic’s hip. It was angry, dark blood bubbling up and spilling over the edges, where burst veins and blood vessels spiderwebbed from it. Shaky green fingers ran down along the edges, starting to seal the wound as they ran the length of it.

“One of the Villains must have got me… I didn’t even notice,” Medic said, gritting his teeth and grabbing a hold of Vigilante’s wrist that helped keep him upright with a gasp, “Motherfu… shit!”

“Medic?”

“I’m okay,” Medic forced out, taking in quick shallow breaths. “I’m okay. It’s almost— fuck!”

Medic hummed in pain letting out a startled yell and then clamped his jaw shut, gritting his teeth again. Medic’s leg bent at the knee and he drove himself back into the wall, crying out, wincing and shaking, trembling with the effort of healing himself.

“Medic,” Teleport sniffed, rushing to his side and dropping beside him. Eventually he stopped trembling, his body grew heavy but he nodded that he was okay and everyone collectively relaxed. Medic sat back, panting painfully, the wound pathetically stitched back together with glowing green edges still binding it, but at least it stopped the bleeding. He turned to face Teleport with beads of sweat running down his forehead and tried for a smile.

Teleport reached into her pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate and sweets. He laughed, then let out a small cry of pain.

“Stop laughing, you idiot,” Teleport chided, sniffing, but her lips tugged up into a weak, watery smile. “Sugar helps you recuperate.”

Hero’s attention turned to Vigilante and found them already looking at Hero. They met Hero’s eyes and Hero knew they were thinking the same thing. The guilt wrapped like barbed wire around their heart but they didn’t have time to stay and wait for Medic to get better. They had to find Superhero.

“Medic—“ Hero began but Medic cut them off.

“I know,” Medic smiled, though it looked more like a grimace than anything else. He pushed Vigilante’s hand away and nodded. “Go on. Tell Superhero Doctor’s dead. We’ll look after the people here as best we can. Try and lock down the Guild again.”

Vigilante straightened up, then glanced at Teleport. Hero shook their head but Vigilante didn’t get the hint. “Teleport, do you mind putting us back in the thick of it?”

Teleport glanced up, blue eyes watery and red from crying. She sniffled, nodded and tightened her blonde hair into a ponytail. She placed a delicate hand on Medic’s thigh.

“I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Off you pop,” said Medic, some ease finally overcoming his face. Medic rested his head against the wall and shot her a comforting smile. “Go. I’ll be here.”

Teleport stood up and offered a hand to both Hero and Vigilante. The minute Hero took Teleport’s hand the room swirled and swallowed them and changed. Hero gasped but there was no air and then there was screaming and Hero’s feet touched earth again and they could breathe.

Vigilante stood up straight while Hero doubled over and dry heaved into the air.

“Thank you, Teleport,” said Vigilante.

“Good luck.”

There was a loud popping sound and Teleport disappeared from view.

“Hero!”

Hero stood up immediately, head rushing as they straightened. A hand bunched in their shirt and yanked them backwards before they could straighten properly and then they saw why. A dagger point was levitating in front of their eyes, held in place by Vigilante.

“Thanks,” Hero breathed, relaxing slightly into Vigilante’s hold. They got their bearings and stood on their own, eyes focusing on the dagger as it dropped to the ground unceremoniously.

“Vigilante!” Hero could feel Vigilante stiffen at the sing song voice. Hero drew their swords slowly, turning to face their would be attacker.

They faced a raven haired girl Hero recognised from her wanted posters. Lethal with daggers, smile just as sharp. She wore black combats, a black tank top and black high heeled boots. Her daggers and throwing knives attached to every inch of her body. Her calves, thighs, shoulder holsters, across her chest and back in an X. She was twirling a delicate blade between her fingers as she tilted her head, regarding Hero and Vigilante with cat like interest.

“Did Hero bat their eyes at you and turn you against us, Vigde?”

Vigilante settled their expression into a neutral one. “Sure, Assassin, that’s what happened.”

She pouted. “Pity,” then her dark eyes turned to Hero and she shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to bring you both to Supervillain. Oh well.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she threw the first barrage of blades. Hero stepped in front of Vigilante, crossing their blades and batting as many as the knives that they could. The ones Hero missed Vigilante caught except the one that cut Hero right under the eye and they winced as warm blood trickled from the cut and turned cold in the air.

“First blood goes to me I guess,” Assassin said, voice as sweet as candy. “Do you want to yield now or shall we go again?”

Vigilante in reply turned their palms skyward and Assassin’s daggers rose from the ground, turning their tips toward her. She grinned a wide toothy smile at Vigilante’s reply.

“The fun way. Excellent.”

Vigilante sent the daggers flying towards her and she moved like ballerina out of the way. She glided through the air, moving this way and bending like a gymnast to avoid the daggers. She eventually landed with graceful feet, not getting hit once. The second round she ducked under and danced out of the way of, she added a little spin at the end just because she could.

“Vigde, you’ve lost your touch.”

Hero stepped back and whispered to Vigilante, “don’t pick them up again. Leave them behind her.”

“But—“

“Trust me.”

“Always.”

Vigilante raised their hand suddenly, catching the blade aimed for Hero’s hand, the tip just grazing Hero’s skin. Vigilante’s lips turned down into a scowl as they stepped forward. The knife turned in the air, point turning towards Assassin.

“That was rude, Assassin.”

“Awh, strike a nerve did I?” Vigilante launched the dagger towards her, and she danced out of the way. The knife turned with her and when she faced Vigilante and Hero again the dagger was buried to the hilt in her hand. She cringed, gasping, shock struck eyes looked down to see her own blade imbedded in her skin.

She glared up at Vigilante then, face screwing up with anger. Vigilante tilted their head. “Awh, strike a nerve did I?”

“And here I thought we were friends,” she said, voice coloured with hurt, “but if you want to play rough, fine.” Assassin grabbed the hilt of her knife and yanked it out of her hand with a grimace. “Let’s play rough.”

Hero looked on horrified at the blood, which pumped from her hand, but Assassin just smiled coldly. The smile not reaching her eyes that stared deadly at them both.

“Hero, go. Find Superhero,” Vigilante said. “I can handle Assassin.”

“No. I’m not leaving you! We can take her together and then find Superhero.”

“We’ll waste time!” Vigilante argued, sharply raising both hands, palm out trying to stop the throwing knives from finding their intended target. Vigilante stepped backwards, knocking Hero back a step too, as they grunted with effort until finally the knives slowed to a stop and clattered to the ground useless.

“You should go,” Vigilante said, a little more breathless than before.

“No,” Hero said, a finality in their voice. They stepped up beside Vigilante, slashing at the couple knives still soaring through the air. Hero smiled, the weight of their swords in their hands like a heavy, comforting blanket. They were calm and determined, happy to be on the battlefield again, even if they’d never admit it.

“Neither of you are going anywhere, unless you want to surrender now and make it easy on me?” Assassin said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at them.

Hero lunged in front of Vigilante, two swords raised like a shield as they heard three knives clang, clang, clang uselessly off of Hero’s blades and fall with a dull thud to the ground.

“No?” Assassin called, lengthening the word with her pretty drawl. “Okaaayyyy.”

The pair of them moved like a well oiled machine. Vigilante rushed around Hero, throwing one arm wide and sweeping it to the side, knocking the blades off course. Instead of trying to stop their movement, Vigilante just redirected it away from them in a wide arc. The knives had barely touched the ground when there was more flying towards them.

When a quick knife flipped end over end in the air aiming for Vigilante’s throat, Hero was there. They quickly raised their vambrace and bit their lip as the knife lodged into the hard leather. That would leave a bruise. Hero sheathed their sword at their back, yanking the knife out of their armour and gave it to Vigilante to throw back at Assassin.

She didn’t let that one touch her. Assassin made sure of that, she threw some cover for herself to stop Vigilante from focusing on hitting her, and instead worried about moving to protect Hero.

The three of them were panting, tired. Hero was looking at her as she reached for another throwing knife but found the sheaths empty.

“Truce?” Hero asked. She just grinned a razor sharp smile and winked at Hero.

Assassin unclipped the clasp keeping the bandoliers crisscrossing her torso in place, and yanked them both down. In one swift movement her empty throwing knife sheaths were replaced with two fully armed ones. She clipped them into place, and it was like she was back to the beginning of their fight, like she had never used her blades and was just getting started.

“Are you offering your surrender Hero?” Assassin asked sweetly, her dark eyes going to Vigilante after the question left her lips. “Supervillain did say they would give favour to whoever brought you to them. Isn’t that right, Vidge?”

Hero’s heart skipped a beat but they didn’t let it show. They trusted Vigilante, they did. Hero believed them when Vigilante kissed them, believed them when they told them that they were on Hero’s side and nobody else’s.

Hero’s faith shouldn’t be so easy to shake with Assassin’s words. Her words that were designed to throw a wrench into Hero and Vigilante’s teamwork, make them make a mistake.

They should trust Vigilante implicitly, but if Hero was completely honest with themselves, they could have admitted the words shook the foundations of their faith in Vigilante.

So Hero decided to not dwell on it, and stay blissfully ignorant. They could focus on these stupid thoughts later. Hero drew their second sword at their back, turning the hilt over in their palm on instinct.

“Hmm, okay truce. Here are the terms, Hero, you drop your swords and let me take you to Supervillain willingly, so I get the reward and Supervillain knows I had nothing to do with Vigilante’s betrayal,” said Assassin. Then she turned her attention to Vigilante, and her expression turned cold. “And Vigilante I want you to get on your knees, kiss my boots and beg for my forgiveness.”

“Is that what you’re angling for, Assassin?” Vigilante threw back. “Are you hoping Supervillain will assume your innocence if you bring in Hero, after we were such good friends?”

Hero watched as Assassin’s expression wound tighter with fury. Seems like Vigilante had hit the nail on the head. The beautiful, lethal head.

“If I bring you in, he’ll believe I had nothing to do with your mutiny.”

“Do you think that. Actually? That Supervillain will show you mercy? Or are you just hoping?”

The words had barely left Vigilante’s lips when a knife was thundering through the air. It whistled sharply past Vigilante’s temple, close enough for Hero to hear it slice into Vigilante’s skin before shooting past them.

“The latter then,” Vigilante said, turning their head slightly to smile at Hero. As if to say I’m fine, see? Don’t worry. Reassuring and kind, like they always were with Hero.

Hero glanced back at Assassin to see her rage plain as day on her face. Hero whispered, “Vigilante, rile her up more and get the blades behind her ready.”

“You ruined a good thing, Vidge!” Assassin all but screeched, storming closer and shooting two daggers towards them. A longer one she pulled from her thigh strap and the other from her shoulder holster. Hero deflected them easily, not letting them touch Vigilante. “We had Supervillain practically eating from our hands and you threw it all away for— for— for them?!”

“I never left them, Assassin. You were just foolish enough to believe that I did.”

“You—“ Assassin yelled, then stopped short and grinned wide, breaking into a fit of giggles. “You— You fucking idiot. New plan. I kill Hero and blame it all on you. I’ll enjoy watching Supervillain rip you apart.”

Assassin drew two knives and threw them, then four more were all sent straight for Hero’s throat, neck, chest, hands. Hero blocked the ones coming for their hands with a slash of the first sword, angling their elbow up to protect their face gritting their teeth as a knife bounced off their vambrace, and still more daggers zoomed through the air towards them.

Hero panicked and drew their second sword up in a wide arc.

A too wide arc.

Hero gasped as two daggers made their way through Hero’s defence. One unseen dagger sliced through the side of Hero’s thigh. Hero let out a startled gasp, almost falling from the shock of it, unbalanced. The other went to Hero’s opposite knee. The tip of the blade dug an inch into Hero’s flesh and dragged itself around Hero’s knee before hurtling past Hero again.

Wide eyes went to Hero’s and Hero dropped, their only saving grace was Vigilante slamming a hand out their invisible hand holding Hero up. It felt like Hero had stumbled over a precipice, dangling from a cliff. Vigilante’s actually hands to Hero’s aid, helping them stand and Hero gasped out in pain as Hero put weight on their leg.

“Hero.”

“It’s okay. I’m— fine,” Hero blinked the pain away, hand tightening on Vigilante’s shoulder as they looked over to see Assassin grinning at them. Her dark eyes were wild and wide, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she took in Hero’s handicap with a giddy sort of glee. “We need to take her out of commission, now, Vigilante.”

“Hero—“

“Now. I’m fine. We can’t let her hit us again.”

Vigilante screwed their lips up them settled them into a thin line, they grabbed Hero’s sword and dropped it to the ground. Hero looked at them with frightened eyes that quickly turned to understanding when Vigilante pressed Hero’s hand against Hero’s knee.

Hero nearly cried when they felt the blood pouring through their fingers. They didn’t. Just bit their cheek and clamped their lips shut tight. No weakness in front of the enemy. Not until they were alone.

“Come on, Vidge, they’re incapacitated now you can give up the charade! We can go back to us.”

“I think we should see other people,” Vigilante said, voice blank and void of any feeling. Hero’s head shot up, glancing at Assassin who’s dark eyes were burning holes in Hero. Hero didn’t focus on that though, instead they watched Assassin’s daggers rise like a swarm of hornets behind them.

Before Assassin could say another word, Vigilante raised their hand and slashed it through the air. Hero let out a half strangled scream that got caught in their throat.

Assassin opened their mouth, her lips moving, but it didn’t matter.

What she was saying was inconsequential.

She was speaking but no sound came out, her lips and tongue still moving to form words. With every attempted word the blood spilling from her throat bubbled and gurgled out of her neck.

Hero nearly threw up when Vigilante’s hand moved again and slashed down Assassin’s body in a diagonal line. It took a minute for anything to happen, the strap of her bandolier over her chest fell unceremoniously to the floor.

It started slow, just lines of red appearing on her skin like red sharpie. Red oozed from her hairline, went through her pretty eye down her face, through her pretty bow lips. More lines appeared, blood dark, almost black, and then it started flowing and Hero had to look away.

Hero let out sudden, unexpected tears. Fear, guilt and disgust crawling through their veins and taking root in Hero’s stomach and they turned away to throw up. Assassin’s death was too violent. Too horrifying. The stuff of nightmares, and Vigilante did it with the simple flick of a wrist.

Before Hero collapsed, Vigilante was there, gathering Hero in their arms and turning them away from Hero’s pool of vomit.

“Sssh, it’s okay. I know, it’s done now. She won’t hurt us again.”

Hero was trembling in Vigilante’s strong arms, goosebumps rising on their skin, wanting to speak but emotion emotion clogging their throat… like Assassin, when her vocal chords were cut and she didn’t know and kept speaking, blood gurgling—

Hero screwed their eyes shut but the image lodged in Hero’s mind and they couldn’t shake it. Instead they doubled up, vomiting the contents of their stomach onto the ground.

“Sssh, Hero, it’s okay. I got you. Sssh,” Vigilante hummed, rubbing Hero’s back and single-handedly supporting all of Hero’s weight. “You’re okay, come on, let’s get you somewhere a little less open. Then I’ll look at your knee.”

Hero didn’t react as Vigilante straightened them and put one arm around Hero’s shoulders and one under Hero’s knees and picked them up, carrying them bridal style to a small trench that was dug behind them.

Hero’s mind was like white noise, static and numb and somehow piercingly loud all at once. They couldn’t feel the pain from their leg. Shock? Physical or mental Hero didn’t know but they didn’t want to question it either right now, afraid if they dug too dee they wouldn’t like what they see.

“I got your swords, don’t worry,” Vigilante told Hero. Their voice was so warm and soft, so reassuring. Always reassuring and kind with Hero, to the point where Hero forgot how deadly Vigilante was. How ruthless.

There was a reason they weren’t a hero.

There was a reason they told Hero they were more Villain than Vigilante.

Who was it that once said, when someone shows you who they are, believe them?

Hero should have believed Vigilante when they told Hero who they were.

It wasn’t like Hero and Vigilante never had this discussion before either, about the morality of killing. They had fought over it many times, usually ending with Vigilante sweet talking Hero and smoothing everything over, and every time Hero conceded.

They descended into the trench with Vigilante’s familiar invisible hold making a stairs for them. Vigilante walked the trench to find a small hut built into the side of the wall.

Two beds were pushed against each wall, leaving a small walkway through the space that was only big enough to fit the beds and one person walking through. A small beside table with two drawers sat in the middle of the beds, a chest sat at the foot of each bed and a cabinet shelf was hanging on the wall to the right of the door.

Vigilante lay the pale Hero on a bed, a small sad smile gracing their lips as they tucked a strand of Hero’s hair behind their ear, “don’t look at me like that. If I didn’t kill her she would have killed you, Hero. Trust me. I know… I knew her.”

Hero didn’t reply, just leaned into Vigilante’s warm palm on their cheek. It was as much forgiveness as Vigilante would get. It was as much forgiveness as Hero would give, so they both accepted it, silently agreeing to not breach the subject again.

Vigilante’s smile turned more content, as they leaned down and pressed a kiss to Hero’s lips, short and sweet, and saying everything they couldn’t. All too soon, Vigilante pulled away to a slight whine from Hero, low in their throat.

Vigilante grinned, pressing their forehead against Hero’s, hand still on Hero’s cheek. “If we had time… no, when we have time I’m not letting you out of my bed for a week.”

Vigilante straightened then, pressing a kiss to Hero’s forehead and withdrawing their contact from Hero altogether.

“As it happens you still have bleeding legs, so priorities,” Vigilante chuckled, then started moving about the hut. Searching for anything left over and useful in the bedside locker, under the beds, inside the chests and the cabinet in the wall.

Hero looked down at their leg as of fact checking Vigilante’s words and blinked back their surprise. The blood was dark, almost black but when it flowed down Hero’s leg it turned into a bright cherry red. They had forgotten.

Such a strange, pressing issue to forget, but somehow in the horror of it all Hero had forgotten.

“Ahah!” Vigilante said, turning back to Hero with a grin a first aid kit in their hands. “We got lucky.”

Vigilante walked over to Hero’s cot and kneeled down in front of it, opening the contents of the first aid kit and pulling out bandages, medical tape, gauze and antiseptic wipes that glowed the same green Medic’s power glowed.

“No pain relief,” Vigilante hummed, searching the box for blue leaves but coming up empty. They just raised their head and smiled sheepishly at Hero. “If you want you can squeeze my hand really tight.”

“While you stitch me up?”

Vigilante frowned, looking into the box again. “Fuck there’s no stitches Hero.”

“Okay,” Hero said, leaning their head against the wall. “Okay. Sure. Okay.”

Vigilante blinked at Hero, thumb going to their lower lip and running it back and forth. “Can we not just put a bandage on it?”

“That’s all we can do right now,” Hero nodded, sitting up slightly with an effort, against the wall on the bed. “I’ll let Medic heal it when I see them again. I need you to clean it and bandage it up so we can go back out there.”

“You shouldn’t fight in your state, Hero.”

“We still need to find Superhero, Vigilante,” Hero sighed.

Pragmatic.

They needed to be pragmatic.

They needed Vigilante to be pragmatic, not emotional.

Hero swallowed. “If we clean it, and hope for the best we should be able to deal with the bleeding.”

“And if we can’t?” Vigilante asked, eyes dark.

“Then… I don’t know.”

“Hero—“

“I know,” Hero said, tired. “I know, I’m just freaking out right now and I need you to work with me here.”

“I don’t know that much about medical stuff, Hero! I wasn’t trained in the Guild—“

“I know, I know. It’s okay,” Hero said grabbing Vigilante’s nearest hand. Vigilante looked at Hero and Hero smiled reassuringly. “So what I need you to do is, after I take my hand off the wound, to try and clean it with the wipes as best as you can. I can’t do it because I won’t be able to keep the pressure up, okay?”

Vigilante nodded, lips screwing up to the side of their face, unimpressed. Still, they reached into the first aid kit and pulled out the wipes from the first aid kit.

Hero lifted their hand and blood started pumping out of the wound. Hero could feel Vigilante’s invisible power in their skin slowing the bleeding a little as they wiped at the wound. Hero hissed and yelped, retracting their leg sharply but Vigilante grabbed it by the ankle and kept it steady as they cleaned it.

“It’s okay, Hero. You’re okay. I need to wipe it again.”

“Okay,” Hero hissed, struggling to not fight Vigilante’s strong hands holding their leg down. Hero cried out as Vigilante rubbed their leg again with a new wipe and renewed vigour. Hero clenched their teeth and screwed their eyes shut, letting out shuddering shaky breaths through their lips.

“Okay, I’m done. I think.”

Hero risked a glance down at their leg and saw how deep the knife went, maybe half an inch down into the side of their knee. Hero saw the yellow tissue below and felt their stomach swirl again at the rawness of it. Hero swallowed, trying not to throw up again.

“Thank you,” Hero breathed, a little more green than before, shaking hands reaching for the bandages in the first aid kit. “Hold that as long as you can.”

“Hero, sit back,” Vigilante commanded, taking the bandages from Hero’s hands. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Hero said, too tired to fight Vigilante. They told Vigilante how to bandage it up properly, putting the dressing pad on first and securing it with the medical tape.

After it was done, Vigilante climbed into bed beside Hero, holding Hero in their arms. They were warm and Hero let themselves relax in their arms.

They could find Superhero in a minute.

Once they moved from the hut they had no idea what would be waiting for them.

Another Assassin? Not afraid of doing incapacitating damage to Hero or will it be Vigilante next time? Someone as ruthless as Villain or Other Villain to come and drag them both to Supervillain.

The weight of the possibilities was overwhelming, but Hero lay in Vigilante’s arms for a while longer. Safe as Vigilante ran their thumb over Hero’s knuckles, hands clasped in between them.

It may be the last chance Hero would ever get to do it, so there they stayed.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (tag-list — lmk if you wanna be removed or added): @micechomper

#writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain story #hero villain snippet #hero #villain #writing #orphan writing #vendetta #vendetta part four #war whump #war arc #war story #whump fic #whump writing #whump #Heroes vs Villains war #Heroes vs villains #hero villain war #hero whumpee #hero x vigilante #vigilante x hero #hero x vigilante whump #battle whump #battle fatigued hero #ongoing war #supervillain whumper #tired hero #emotional whump #whumpblr

[ct-hardcase]

missing the phase 1 wave 1/2 polyam firebrand vibes today especially

#idk I still ship them but a lot of the magic was lost when they killed stellan #mostly bc ironically elv*r as a ship held the least interest to me of the pairs within the trio #stellan + elzar is fun and avar + stellan was my dark horse #but the way the books kept hammering the elv*r dynamic was. a bit boring sometimes? #avar/stellan in particular scratched a lot of interests for me because due to their unique combination of childhood friendship and animosit #while still being on the same side of the war and ultimately still deeply caring about one another #they actually hit a lot of the 'those two villains' tropes while still being heroes #it was *fascinating* and really fun to watch + something I was curious to see going into the future until it was rendered impossible #star dorks #sw negativity #I still have to read some of the newer phase iii novels so maybe my tide will turn on elv*r again #but idk between the way fandom treated elzar vs avar at the end of phase I and the vibes in canon it'll take some work #I'm so conflicted abt temptation of the force bc I think it'll be an interesting way to tackle that #but I'm also worried their romance will swallow bell + vernestra + burry's stories #and I'm also worried it'll completely override any fandom discussion about those three or avar and elzar's dynamics with the knights

[gothicelfsstories]

Gods at War Chapter 04 Outfits

I don't own any of these pictures, so shout out to their original creator!

This is the outfit that Izuki is wearing in Chapter 4 of Gods at War. The chapter is named Bakugo's P.O.V. about these past few weeks.

Izuku is wearing this Hoodie, Maks, Shirt and Gloves.

These are the Cargo Pants that Izuku is wearing.

These are the Steel-Toe Boots that Izuku is wearing.

#Stories #A03 #a03 fanfic #outfits #Gods at War #Chapter 04 #Chapter 4 #Civil Class Warfare #Class Warfare #Heroes vs Villains #Villains vs Heroes #MHA

[itachi178]

Watch "Hero vs Villains" on YouTube

#gamer #gaming #pc #youtube #star wars #hero vs. villain #sith #jedi #lightsaber #darth vader #kylo ren

[iamjadehawk]

so there's this thing that has always bugged me in fantasy stories with any form of good magic and bad magic, where they would play up the temptations and the immense power that the "dark side" offered... and then as a result failed to properly justify why the fuck the bad guys lost anyway. the usual way to get out of this nicely is to have the bad guys destroy each other/themselves; this is... fine. worse is when the good guys win for no discernible reason at all, or when they just... care bear the bad guys. like, heart-emote at a villain so much he turns on the other villains and dies in a redemption arc. (yes a lot of this is complaining about star wars, but only because that's what i'm watching. it's not unique to star wars in any way) anyway. today, after watching a youtube video that has fuck-all to do with fiction or literary villains (it was about a group of ppl whose worldview seems... extremely self-defeating, let's say), i realized finally how this problem can be resolved in a way that is satisfactory, at least to me. cuz you see, i'm kind of an asshole; a nasty little gremlin who will often succumb to satisfyingly mean impulses and highly uncharitable thoughts about others; for the purpose of this post, my thinking is like what villains are like. meanwhile, the people in the video i watched were of the "genuinely caring" type. maybe they also have the nasty reflexes, but i think they also have an AT LEAST equally strong "there for the grace of god go i" reflex even for the worst ppl, where they try to understand how one could become a self-hating little waste dump of a person. for the purpose of this post, this is the hero side thinking. so anyway, i realized if the video had been made by a spiteful gremlin like me, it'd be 90% dunking and maybe 10% trying to figure ppl out, which probably wouldn't've reached any deeper than "lol self-hating bigots". but because it was made by less vindictive people, it instead produced some fascinating insights into how certain beliefs and behaviors can arise. which *ALSO* means it offered some starting points on how to prevent people from becoming like that, how to try to get people out of it once they're down that path, and how to combat some of it. y'all. the good guys are better people-understanders. maybe even than the bad guys they're trying to understand. not only does this provide a much more substantial foundation for any care-bearing of villains into having a redemption arc, it also means they should be able to outmaneuver the bad guys by finding their psychological sore spots. (ok this was probably entirely too much text for what just amounts to me circuitously arriving at a “kenland contains the seeds of its own destruction” way of defeating overpowered villains, but fuck it, at least i figured it out to my satisfaction, lol.)

#random thoughts #too long to really be shower thoughts #writing #storytelling #character design #heroes vs villains #star wars

[dilatorywriting]

Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

.

.

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

.

.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

.

.

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.  

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

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