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ownlittleuniverse · 12 days

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snippet #2 - the villain surprises the hero

warning: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, harmful behavior, touchy villain (not nsfw), depictions and descriptions of physical violence, may be uncomfortable or triggering for some readers, reader discretion is advised.

The hero had been captured again, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and beaten to a pulp until the only thing they could taste, smell, feel, was their blood.

It was routine at this point.

Get captured, refuse to give up information, get a few new scars before their team showed up. At a certain point, these so-called villains became predictable. None of them truly scared the hero anymore.

The hero’s head came up at the sound of a door creaking open then slamming shut, footsteps following behind. They clenched their fists against their restraints, sighing, preparing themselves for another round of mediocre scare tactics.

The footsteps of the person started to become louder and louder, the hero could hear them slowly circling their chair like they were tracking prey.

They stopped right behind the hero, their breath tickling their ear, making the hero shiver behind their blindfold.

Their captors before had never gotten this close, at least without a weapon or some weak verbal threats. This felt… different somehow. It made the hero a bit antsy. Their chest became heavier as they listened to the sounds of the person’s even breathing.

Their gut was trying to tell them something.

Something was wrong-

Their heart stopped when they heard the person’s whispered voice.

“Hello, Darling.”

No.

The hero frantically jerked at their restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it only made the rope dig more into their body. Loud and panicked sounds escaped them as their heart started to beat in their head.

The person only chuckled at their attempts to free themselves.

No. No.

They— there… it’s not possible.

“Did you miss me?”

No. They needed to get out. Tears started to seep through their blindfold, as well as sweat as they jerked their head around. They couldn’t get out, they couldn’t even see where they were. The hero was frantic, horribly panicked, and the villain reveled in it.

The villain was the only one who could evoke genuine terror from their hero. Turn them into a screaming, begging mess at their feet.

The villain trailed their hand delicately over the hero’s neck, wrapping their fingers around them and stroking. The hero let out a choked whimper, their body completely shivering.

“You never thought you’d feel this again, did you?” The villain smiled, “My touch making you deliciously crazy?”

No. They didn’t. The villain was supposed to be dead.

The hero’s breathing grew more erratic by the second, more and more tears streamed down their face, mixing with the dried blood and stinging their fresh shallow cuts.

They saw their dead body. They buried them in that grave. They stuck that knife in their chest so many times they lost count as they watched the life drain out of them. How?

“It’s been far too long, my love,” the villain said, “I think we should relive some good memories.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out and tried to wiggle their way out of their restraints again and again and again. It was a pity, the sight of someone trying to escape the inevitable.

The villain started to slowly lift the hero’s ripped sleeves, rolling them to expose their skin. No. No. No. Anything but that.

The villain watched in awe as their hero completely lost it and tried so hard to escape them, even though their hero was smart enough to know there was no hope. No one was coming to save them.

“Sh, sh, sh,” the villain cooed, their hand sickenly stroking the hero’s neck like comfort, “There’s no need for that, you know you're not escaping me.”

The villain trailed their hands softly up their hero’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They loved how their hero tried to push them off, completely losing it when the villain finally touched their scars.

They had dreamed of touching these sensitive things again. The deep scars they left all over. They hated the scars others dared to leave. They already killed those others who dared to call themselves ‘villains’, who dared to touch the hero. Only they were allowed to touch their little hero like this.

“All our fun times, etched into your skin,” the villain said in awe. Their hero tried to get out of their hold, their sobs echoing across the room.

The scars felt different this time, some of them. The hero must have tried to rid themselves of their marks, but failed miserably. How cute.

Their hero should know better than to try to rid themselves of the villain.

They continued to trace over the uneven skin, the memories of the many long lovely torture sessions they subjected their hero to flooding their brain, and they were sure their hero was reliving it too.

“Stop,” the hero whispered, choking on their sobs, “Please-

“Just like my scars,” they cut in, pressing delicate kisses to the skin making the hero’s body shiver, “I will never leave you, love.”

It has been so long since the hero felt that terror, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins, their heartbeat reaching heights that could kill them. Their breathing was so rapid, their body was in a state of complete shock and panic.

They forgot what it felt like to be terrified, and they wished it stayed that way. They thought they made sure it would.

“But, you did leave me,” The villain dug into one of their scars, making them gasp, reopening it and letting their hero’s blood trickle down their fingers.

“You left me to rot in the ground,”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Let the world forget about me.”

The villain dug in deeper. The hero cried out.

“Let yourself forget about me,” the villain whispered, their breath over the hero’s mouth.

“I’m- sorry.. please— I’ll do-“

The hero jerked and sobbed again as the villain ripped off their blindfold, the light seering their eyes.

“Your begging is pitiful,” they spat.

The hero’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light as they looked up into the villain’s. They jerked their head away. Those same eyes haunted them when the hero slept, even when they thought they were buried deep underground.

The villain grabbed the hero’s chin, digging their nails into the skin and forced their head back up.

“You really thought you could get rid of me?” the villain snapped, venom lacing every syllable.

The hero sniffled, their eyes completely bloodshot from their tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the villain whispered with crazy in their eyes, “and neither are you.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out as exhaustion took over their body. Their body stopped fighting, just twitching every so often from the adrenaline. They were slowly accepting their fate.

“I’m keeping you, Darling,” the villain smiled, stroking the hero’s chin, “and I promise you, this time, you’ll never be able to forget me.”

The hero whimpered a slur of incoherent words in response.

The villain loved their hero like this, shaking and on the verge of insanity knowing what things the villain was about to subject them to. It was a sight the villain was going to come back to every single day. They planned to come back every night, keep them tied up, bloodied and bruised, completely helpless and at their mercy. Then afterwards, they’ll really get to work on molding their hero into perfection.

The villain mercilessly tied the hero’s blindfold into a gag, enjoying the way the hero jerked in response, and took a syringe out. Their hero’s eyes winded, as they tried to plead behind the fabric, but the thing was too tight.

They sobbed. The hero knew what was coming next. They remembered, those memories were burned inside of them. Cut into their skin.

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, kissing their hero’s tear and blood-soaked cheek, “I’ll be all you ever think about soon enough.”

They could only cry and try to plead through their eyes, shaking their head. The villain though had no mercy for them whatsoever.

Their hero betrayed them. They stuck a knife in their heart when the villain let themselves believe someone actually cared for them, they finally let themselves trust and their little hero shattered it.

They stuck the syringe right in their scar. Their hero let out a scream of terror covered by the fabric.

Now it was only fair they would shatter them in return.

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sepublic · 9 months

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No but the way Pucci being Christian is so intertwined with his motives as a villain... He’s every story I’ve heard of the Christian convert who suffered something horrible and senseless, and after drifting through life lost and without a sense of purpose, found hope by believing in God. He’s so many stories of tragedy I’ve seen where people managed to cope by finding peace in the idea that this is all part of God’s divine, incomprehensible plan; It’s fate, it’s his will, and by accepting it they can move on. It’s for a reason, even if they’ll never understand what they’re looking at.

That’s what Heaven is for Pucci; His core trauma is a series of horrific coincidences with no rhyme or reason, and so he latches onto the idea that it’s all part of “his” plan, God and/or DIO’s. That’s why he finds comfort in knowing the future, knowing it’s all in the hands of Fate and removing his own blame and agency, which is why the narrator asks the viewer to judge for ourselves who did wrong, when we see the backstory of Wes, Enrico, and Perla. Pucci made a decision and it backfired horribly, so he doesn’t want to choose anymore.

It’s the way Pucci’s desire to be the messianic hero screws him over and causes tragedy; He’s so devoted to his position as a priest that rather than sabotaging it in order to just tell Perla the truth to her face (thus breaking the rules of the confessional), Pucci relies on this roundabout method so he can have it both ways, only to cause heartbreak and death. Pucci is so desperate to save humanity to make up for his own guilt and failure that he resets the universe, making him the worst kind of evil in his brother’s eyes; One totally oblivious to its nature. Pucci begs to die a martyr from Weather Report and Emporio, rather than just dying here and now.

Ungalo and Rikiel are prepared to die for Pucci once he gives them a sense of purpose to all of the inexplicable misfortune in their lives; Versus is also emboldened by this realization, but chooses to weaponize it for himself. The sons of DIO are people who all went through misfortune their whole lives, they’re ‘children of God’ who find comfort in devoting themselves to something they can actually believe in, that they believe will take care of them in some way; Like many Christians following the path of God, believing Heaven is waiting for them at the end of the tribulation and that it will all be worth it, that it all meant something and mattered and served a cause, like them.

Pucci and the sons of DIO can no longer bear the pain and uncertainty of moving forward, so they aspire, Pucci especially, for a world where fate will move things along for them. They don’t have to take the first step, especially not Pucci, when Made in Heaven’s reset will compel him and everyone else to do what’s fated, regardless of what they try.

Pucci fears and admires the courage of the Joestars who are able to step forward and face fate, engage and grapple with it, rather than just blindly accept and surrender in despair. If Diavolo precedes Pucci as someone too resistant of fate, Pucci is the opposite; Someone too resigned to it. Unlike the Joestars who know their fate but can work with what’s written in stone to change the other details.

It’s why Pucci admires the first human to try a mushroom despite knowing it could kill them; But rather than put in the effort to get up to their level, Pucci would rather everyone stoop to his own, and claims he’s just sparing people noble yet needless pain (He’s only sparing himself by avoiding the reminder that he could and should be braver than this). He says he pities the human who tried a mushroom, adding that they were probably only motivated by hunger and desperation, and had no choice anyway.

I think Pucci is secretly envious of that courage, and that’s why he always downplays it afterwards by suggesting it’s foolishness rather than bravery. Pride, Envy, Wrath... Sloth given his despair, and a bit of Greed with the $800 dollar pants. Then there’s the BDSM vibes of Whitesnake for Lust, all that’s missing is Gluttony, which I guess the cherries and being devoured by the Green Baby account for...?

In all seriousness, Pucci wants guidance; He surrenders himself to God, follows the instructions led by DIO, and relies on Fate to tell him what to do when Made in Heaven resets the universe. Remember that time Pucci got around his brother’s Heavy Weather by removing his sight, and forcing Anasui to guide him? Yeah.

There’s a reason why Whitesnake obsesses with preserving the past, and I think part of it boils down to Pucci being afraid of its counterpart the Future; Which Made in Heaven, not entirely unlike King Crimson, allows Pucci to speed through and glimpse, to get through the worst of it ASAP and lessen the pain. He doesn’t want to accept that sometimes things just… happen.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #enrico pucci #stone ocean #character analysis #meta

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vampyrsm · 2 years

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"Cracked Glass." (6.5k)

✽ — pairing: shoto todoroki x reader ✽ — warnings: female reader, smut, mdni, characters are 18+, shoto is a bit of a perv, dacryphilia, spanking, hair pulling, praise kink, car sex, clothed sex, just two strangers fucking yknow how it is, baby as a pet name, creampie. ✽ — author notes: i have such bad shoto brain rot lately, so this is my gift to you all.

Shoto couldn't name a time on one hand when he had been genuinely surprised by something. Having the childhood and school life he had, almost everything received the same impassive glance or the arch of an eyebrow if it intrigued him. But absolutely nothing would've prepared him for what he saw as he turned the corner of the agency parking lot at the sound of glass shattering.

It was a rather dull afternoon, having been in and out of meetings all day. His suit feels too tight, not comfortable enough for him to just be sitting around in his office whilst he's signing off on the paperwork his sidekicks had left on his desk that morning. He huffs, leaning back in the large plush office chair, thighs spreading to try and alleviate some of the uncomfortableness of having his muscles confined in the expensive stitching of his suit.

The meetings weren't of any real importance, all managerial but necessary he supposed. The agency was going through a reshuffle of staff, ranging from heroes who worked underneath Shoto, all the way down to the janitors. He doesn't know exactly why he was asked to attend the meetings but he didn't put up a fight, he didn't have anything else to do anyway.

His head of two-tone hair hits the headrest, eyes staring up, bored, at the plain ceiling. Maybe he could just go and change into his hero suit, and go on a short patrol. At least then he'll have something to do, something to occupy his mind outside of the meaningless paper that sat strewn across his dress.

With a new goal in mind, Shoto nods and stands. Long arms stretched above his head, the seams of his white dress shirt threatening to burst when his biceps involuntarily tense up with the stretch. He's hardly one step around the desk when his work phone rings, and he pouts a little. It's a childish thing to be pouting at the fact they might be keeping him in the building for longer, but he relents. Picking up the phone, a monotone "Shoto here—".

"Sir, there's a disturbance in the parking lot at the back of the agency." comes the voice of his assistant, sounding rather out of breath like he had to run.

"A disturbance? Can't someone else—" Shoto tries, running a hand over his face at the idea of dealing with something like a fight in the car park of all places.

His assistant huffs, not seeming to have the time for Shoto's ability to brush everything off. "No," the man nearly hisses, "Apparently there's someone down there with a weapon, people are scared." and now Shoto is frowning, a weapon, really?

Shoto sighs, running that same hand back up his face and through his hair, before he's swiping up the fancy black suit jacket off the back of his chair and shouldering it on, phone held between his shoulder and ear whilst he pulls it up. "Fine, I'll be there soon." and he hangs up, his assistant just heard sighing in what sounded like relief.

He doesn't waste time then, just in case it is an actual villain who somehow managed to worm their way through his security and into the parking lot. His sidekicks give him side glances as he makes his way out of the office floor in long fast strides, fixing the collar of his jacket when he rounds the stairwell that leads directly to the parking lot.

As he grows closer and closer, he can hear the sound of something. It's pretty loud considering he's still in the stairwell, but he's certain it sounds like something is being broken. A quick shove of the door that leads outwards makes the sound ten times louder, and now he can definitely hear the sound of glass being hit with something hard, and repeatedly.

He's running now, seeing a crowd just at the corner as they gossip and gasp with each.. grunt? can he hear someone grunting? His eyebrows furrow, not able to picture just what's going on until he rounds the corner and makes his way past the crowd that all wordlessly part for the tall Todoroki.

Shoto can't quite believe what he's seeing, eyes owlishly blinking and lips slightly agape at the scene in front of him. Right before him is a woman in just a pair of leggings and a baggy-looking hoodie, a baseball bat wrapped up tightly in two hands before it's being brought down with such force on the black sleek car that the bonnet dents, the windshield has been absolutely destroyed. Multiple holes from where the bat has made contact. There's glass everywhere, shattered into what must be millions of pieces and he's pretty sure that's a wing mirror on the floor—

Wait.

That's his car.

That's a woman, destroying his brand new imported black Mercedes-Benz.

He's absolutely stumped, muscles locking into place as he tries to take in the whole thing. He definitely doesn't know this woman, he knows he hasn't done anything to piss someone off this bad. But he can't fucking help his eyes from drifting from the damage to his car and locking onto her face, she was so beautiful. Even with the nasty scowl on her face, eyes wide with vivid rage and hair messy beyond belief from the exertion it's taking to destroy his car.

A loud gasp catches his attention again, the sound of the car beeping finally reaching his ears and he's pushing forward until he's crunching on the glass. His hands untuck from his pockets, not yet activated with his quirk but ready just in case this goes south.

The sound of crunching catches your attention, your head snapping up and your eyes take a second to focus on the red and white blur in front of you until you register his mouth is moving, and those mismatched eyes are just as wide as your own.

"...What?" you ask, hands wringing against the metal of the bat in your hands when you squint a little at the man, who registers belatedly that he is in fact Pro Hero: Shoto, No. 3.

"I said, put the weapon down and no one has to get hurt," Shoto repeats, calmly, and his palms open in front of him to prove that he's not going to use his quirk on you if you just hand it over. He can see the debate behind your eyes, the way you glance at the destruction that lays just in front of you before your eyes meet his again. His muscles tense up, locking up and ready to pounce—

The clanging of the metal bat bouncing off of the floor and rolling along the floor makes his stance relax just slightly, he makes his way around to the bat and rolls it off somewhere behind him with his foot whilst his eyes never once leave your face. Your eyes are all puffy like you'd been crying for hours.

He casts a glance over towards the crowd, who all make themselves scarce at the frown he gives them at wasting time on the clock before he looks back at you and tilts his head with a question. "Want to explain to me why you did that?" he makes sure to keep his tone calm, and impassive, he doesn't want to make you feel worse than you already do.

You sniffle, rubbing a fist over your nose as you meet his gaze, quickly darting it down and at the destroyed car. "Asshole fucked over my best friend," you finally admit, and Shoto is once again confused. Did he fuck someone over? Is he the asshole here?

Then you say the name of one of his sidekicks, and he almost wants to sigh a breath of relief. So he wasn't the cause of this apparently 'well-deserved' outrage, so you say.

"—then when I found out he was just some sleazy sidekick working under a big shot hero," you stop yourself mid-sentence, seeming to remember that you're ranting to that same 'big shot hero'. You sheepishly glance at Shoto, who just has an eyebrow arched at you for a second as he debates on what to say.

He sighs, "I'm sure it was well deserved. It's a shame that's not his car," he supplies, shrugging a little when you go wide-eyed and gawping like a fish out of water at the realisation that you destroyed some random persons car.

"It's mine."

And it's almost comical the way the blood drains from your face, how you look almost like you've seen a ghost as you stare up at him with glassy wide eyes. He waits for a moment, to see if you'd make a move. He expects you to try and make a run from the crime scene, but instead, you start crying. Big, fat tears that are streaking down your already sodden cheeks, and you're heaving in heavy breaths.

"I-I'm so.. s-sorry!" you try to breathe out, eyes barely open as the tears just come and it makes Shoto uncomfortable, but not in the way most would think. It makes him uncomfortable because he can feel the tightness of his pants worsen a little more at the indecent thought that passes through his brain at lightspeed, a thought of what you'd look like if you were crying whilst bouncing on his cock, begging him to make you cum after he denied it so many times.

It's a perverted thought, downright disgusting but he can't help but entertain it a little when you sniffle and rub again at your nose, now facing him and you're pleading about something, blubbering about you'll repay him back—he knows you can't afford it—but he lets you cry about it.

He wonders what it'd be like having you pleading for his cock.

Your movement snaps him from the thoughts fogging his mind, you're digging around in a bag that he didn't even notice you had. His eyebrows furrow until you try pulling out your purse and he frowns. You really were going to try and pay him off, he doesn't even care about the destruction of his car. It's not like he's lacking in money, and even if he was he's sure he could pull the youngest child string on his father and get a brand new one.

"Don't worry about it," he lays a cold hand directly on top of yours as you try to pull out what looks like hardly 13,000¥. You freeze at the contact on your hand, marvelling for a second at how his hand feels like it's been dunked inside of an ice bath. "You can repay me by letting me take you for dinner tonight."

You blink up at him, big and owlish, trying to process the words that he had just said. His face is giving away nothing, it's hard to tell if he's joking or being genuine but the way his eyebrow furrows just slightly and his lips flatten into a line tells you he's expecting an answer. You fumble for a second, hands stuffing the money back into your purse and you miss the look on his face at the loss of contact when you look down to zip up your bag.

"You're serious?" you question, and he nods in return. "Oh. Uh, well, sure?" he sees you're hesitant, he doesn't blame you for thinking that it's a prank or a trap of some kind. Any normal person would've had you arrested for the destruction of property and demanded you pay up.

He licks his lips, eyes finally darting away from you and towards his car. His hand that was once in contact with your own curls into a tight fist at his side when he speaks again, "Give me your number," he contains the wince at how blunt he's being, he remembers the speech Izuku gave him about being so straight forward towards women in the past but he can't help it, he's just met you and he wants to have you pinned beneath him already.

You don't hesitate in pulling out your phone, and offer it up to him once you unlock it. His fingers brush against your own, a shiver subtly shooting up along your spine. Once the details are exchanged, he doesn't say much else other than telling you he'd text you when he's going to be picking you up and a quick "Dress nice." before he's turning away and disappearing behind the door that leads upstairs.

...

Shoto: Just wear something nice, it doesn't matter too much. It's just dinner.

A single text message that had been haunting your mind the entire evening as you prepared to meet with Shoto again, he really gave you no time to even really think about it or find something "nice" for this supposed "just dinner", you felt horribly underdressed. Having a few dresses for going out was one thing but having to dress up for a pro hero, the number three at that, was an entirely different issue. He was rich, everyone knew that and if that fancy car that you trashed this morning was anything to go by - it'd be safe to say he was rolling in it.

So here you were, standing in front of your apartment building looking like an idiot. The area you lived in wasn't a bad one compared to others but you still stood out like a sore thumb, you had pulled out one of the "nicer" dresses you owned, in truth you had only really ever worn it when you went out with your friends on nights out. It stopped around midthigh, tight around your waistline and accented your cleavage but you still felt like some two-bit hooker stood out in front of your building whilst you waited for the pro to arrive.

Pulling your phone from the small purse you had brought, you swiped through it absentmindedly, going through text messages to ensure you were actually the one on time - you were, Shoto was just taking his time. You pursed your lips a little, lip gloss shining in the pale light that was coming from the overhead street light before you felt a rumble in your chest, it made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck and goosebumps ran wild along your arms as you lifted your head up from the screen that was illuminating your face.

Your eyes watched as a black, clearly very expensive, sports car rolled up in front of your apartment, the engine roaring as it rolled to a stop just in front of you revealing Shoto who was quick to get out of the driver's side. His hands came to his jacket as he buttoned up a single button and made his way around the front of the car, white and red hairs swept back beautifully with gel. You could tell just by the stitching on the suit that it cost more than your yearly pay grade, he looked handsome.

He finally came to a stop in front of you, his lips filling with a smile as he looked down at your dress. He couldn't help the thoughts that floated through his mind, the way your legs were mostly exposed and how good your breasts looked. You'd be the death of him tonight. "You look beautiful," he offers finally, words coming from his mouth so easily it surprises you. You couldn't stop the heat that rose to your cheeks at the compliment, he said it in such a soft and slightly lower tone, his eyes were drinking up your form completely.

Your eyebrows shoot up, giving yourself a glance down before looking back up to meet his gaze. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself." you smile gently, a gentle chuckle coming from somewhere deep in Shoto's chest.

He let his fingers wrap around your hand softly, guiding you a few steps back towards the car since you were still frozen in the spot. You subconsciously squeezed your fingers against his hand as he came to a stop and stood with you at the door of his car, he leaned in a little close which made your breath hitch until you heard the click of the car door, opening it up for you.

You let your hand drop from his own, still blushing and hoping he couldn't see how his words and actions were affecting you. You slipped into the car, letting the soft plush leather of the seats melt against your exposed skin as you watched him close the door and walk around the front of the car, the headlights highlighting his suit and the glint of a very expensive-looking watch on his wrist as he adjusted his suit jacket once again.

Shoto relaxed into the seat next to you, his hands barely moving against the steering wheel as he started to drive so effortlessly like he could shut off his brain completely and be fine with it. Your eyes narrowed slightly to the now visible wristwatch since his jacket sleeves were slightly pulled up from him holding onto the steering wheel, your eyes slowly wandered along his suit then, admiring the stitching, the colours, everything. He was exquisite, you could see exactly now why the magazines fawned over him so much.

"So about that sidekick," he started, eyes meeting yours for a split second before he continued to focus on the road. You blinked out of the very obvious staring stupor you were in, your eyes quickly darting to look forward at the road. "I spoke with management, we're pretty happy with dropping him from the agency. We don't need someone like him on our team. Apparently, we'd had a few reports about his behaviour in the last couple of years but no one had ever brought it up to me."

Your silence prompted him to look at you once again when he stopped at a redlight, eyebrow arched at your wide eyes and slightly parted lips before they curled into a gentle smile. "Thank you." was your reply, meeting his gaze again and Shoto swore his heart began to beat faster, fluttering in his chest at the sight of such a pretty smile directed towards him.

His fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, his mind at war for a second as he soaked in the gentle look you were giving him. He wanted to devour you. The flickering of red to green snaps his eyes back to the road, and his foot presses firmer on the pedal. He can't stop the raise in temperature of the car when his minds flicker to the dress you're wearing, how good it would look with it all bunched up at your hips whilst you ride him—

"Shoto?" you break his train of thought, and he blinks in surprise to find he drove completely on autopilot to the restaurant parking lot. It wasn't overly populated, being that it was still the middle of the week. You say his name again and he finally glances at you, swallowing hard when he realises you have a slight sheen to your skin now from the temperature of the car, he wants to lick it off your skin.

"Are you o—" your squeak of surprise is muffled by the pro hero who seemed to lunge himself across the middle console, lips pressing hard against your own and you're frozen for a moment like a deer in headlights. But the second a cold hand lays on the side of your neck, long fingers curling into the hair at the base of your skull has you melting into the kiss completely. Lips parting in response to his movements, his tongue brushing against your own in a few delicate kisses before the hand tightens in the hair he was previously holding. You gasp, the sudden small shot of pain that danced its way down your spine and directly between your thighs had you completely pliant in Shoto's hands.

He was just hovering by your lips, huffing heavy hot breaths against your mouth as his heavy-lidded eyes scanned over your own. "Tell me this is okay," he pleads, almost a whine in his voice when he continues "If not, I'll stop right now and take you home." but the thought of being taken home, all horny and needy sounded like the worst possible idea.

"I want this," you breathe back, eyes rolling back when his lips drag along your own and down to your jawline. "Please, I want you so bad." and he smiles against your cheek, pecking a soft kiss against the fat of it before leaning back so he was once again at eye level with you. The slightly glassy look in your eye was making it impossible for him to control his thoughts, making it hard to hear the small voice in the back of his mind telling him to slow down. He just met you. But that all went down the drain when you moaned, it was quiet and breathy, but it was enough to make his stomach tighten and his mind shut off.

It all happened in one smooth succession, he leaned back just enough to pull on something so his seat shifted backwards and then he was pulling you over the console and into his lap. Both of your thighs were on either side of his own, your dress straining against the stretch but it was giving Shoto the perfect little sneak peek of what could be lying beneath. His hands stroked along your sides, marvelling in the difference in your size and his hands as his hands moved over the dips and curves of your body. He thought you were beautiful, a goddess he had managed to wrangle into his lap.

"God, you're so pretty," he muttered more so to himself, admiring the way your skin was pliant under his firm grip, squeezing in places to watch you writhe naturally down into his lap. "I want to fuck you." and the way he says it so bluntly, so straight to the point it has you clenching around nothing, dripping at the idea of having this man buried between your thighs. "Will you be a good girl and let me?"

Your eyelashes flutter, your gaze hazy at the sight of the man who's beneath you. The praise that rolled off of his tongue was so effortless, that you supposed made sense, everyone always said Shoto Todoroki was such a gentleman. With great effort, you manage to nod through the lust-filled fog settling heavily on your mind, but Shoto just clicks his tongue and a cold hand is spanking the side of your thigh.

"Words, sweetheart. I know you can use them." It should've been condescending, the tone he used, but it just made you even needier for the man.

"Please," you start, leaning forward so your lips brush against his own. "Please, Shoto, I'll be a good girl." and you're nodding as if to make your words more believable, and he does believe you. He knows you'll be a good girl for him if the way you're throbbing against his thighs is any indicator. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when you take the initiative to duck your head to the side, nipping and kissing along his sharp jawline and down along the pulse point in his throat.

His hips jerked upwards on instinct, rolling against the exposed expanse of the lace panties you wore and pulling one of the sweetest noises he had heard all night from your pretty lips. Your hands travelled the expanse of his chest, undoing the button of his suit jacket before your hands pressed hard against the muscles beneath his shirt. Your nails curling naturally against the prominent six pack you could feel, and Shoto couldn't control the shiver that rolled over his body nor the more harsh jerk of his hips upwards.

And finally, your hands landed on the bulge between his legs, delicate fingertips brushing along the hard length that was being painfully compressed in his trousers. He hissed at the way you pressed a little firmer against the vein leading all the way to the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily once again. Shoto cracked open his eyes to meet your hazy eyes, and the smirk on your lips was enough to know you were having far too much fun teasing him.

But before he could air his minor annoyance at being toyed with, you were untucking the bottom of his once crisp dress shirt and undoing the thick leather belt, all whilst keeping your eyes locked with his mismatched ones. It was like he was entranced, letting your hands manipulate his trousers until they were open and your warm hand wrapped around his cock had him groaning deep in his chest.

He couldn't stop his head from hitting the headrest harshly when you broke eye contact to glance down at his cock, it was unbelievably pretty—the mushroom head an angry red from the harsh restraints and teasing, it was flushed a light pink all the way down to the mixture of red and white pubes that trailed up into a pretty happy trail. Of course, Shoto Todoroki, the most eligible bachelor in all of Japan would have the prettiest cock you had ever had the pleasure of holding.

The slither of spit that leaked from your lips and made contact with the tip of his cock made Shoto moan, actually moan, the contrasting difference between the white-hot skin and your cool spit. Then the way your palm covered the head of his cock, thoroughly spreading your saliva along his cock until you were jerking him gently, yet quickly. His eyes were locked with your own, his eyebrows pulled together in what would look like he was in pain but he felt euphoric. It wasn't often that Shoto got the chance to divulge his fantasies, never one to sleep around with the plethora of girls who threw themselves at his feet.

He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

So he slipped his hands along your thighs, fingertips digging harshly into the plushness of your thighs until the dress you were wearing was hiked up over your hips and he got a full view of the pretty lacy panties you were wearing. His hands automatically went to them, running his fingers down and around until he grasped the globes of your ass. "You wear these for me?"

You've pulled your lip between your teeth, and the gaze you're giving him through his eyelashes is enough of a confirmation. You wanted to be fucked. His hand left your ass for a second before you were pressing forward into his chest, hand halting on his cock as you gasped loudly at the sharp pain that radiated along the skin of your ass cheek before a cool hand was smoothing over it, instantly cooling the skin off from the harsh slap. "You're a secret little slut, aren't you?" he mumbles against your temple, taking a deep inhale of that sweet perfume you wore for him. For him, he realises, you did it all for him.

His fingers stroked along your hips again until one slipped between your thighs, gliding hot fingers against the wetness that had been sticking to your lips for a while now. He groaned alongside your soft moan when he found your clit, rubbing tight slow circles against it through the soiled material of your panties. "You're soaked baby, you must be so desperate.. hm?"

It's a rhetorical question, you know that, but you can't stop the pitiful nod of your head and the needy pout you give him when he continues to tease you through the outside of your panties. He must take pity on the way you're looking at him because those same fingers dip to the side and pull your panties out of the way, revealing the hot stickiness of your lips to the air. Shoto wastes no time in dipping those same fingers down through your wet heat, dragging the slick back and forth until it was stringy when he pulled his fingers back to tap at your clit.

"So needy." he chuckles softly at the way you writhe, trying to seek out his hand again that pulls away to cover your own that's still been tightly wrapped around his cock this whole time. "Don't worry, I got you.." is all he says before angling the tip of his cock between your thighs, the thick head spreading your lips apart effortlessly to coat himself in your fluids.

Your hand that was once occupied by his cock presses against his chest, curling into the material when he finally shifts just a little lower until he's breaching the tight ring of muscle that has you gasping, tensing your thighs up on instinct. Shoto struggles to choke down the groan at the sudden tightness wrapped around the tip of his dick, his spare hand coming down to rub a warm soothing finger against your clit to entice you into relaxing. "Relax sweetheart, promise it'll feel good if you just relax."

"Hurts, Sho'." you sniffle, and his eyes instantly dart up from between your legs and to your face to see the hot tears bubbling at your eye line. Your nose is scrunched up a little at the clear pain of next to no prep, but you're not giving up with the way you roll your hips subtly to help with inching him further into your pussy. "'s too much."

And fuck if you don't sound even better than how he imagined that very morning when meeting you when you were blubbering about paying for his car. He can't stop the way he bucks his hips up, burying the rest of his length deep inside of you with a deep groan. Your hands are curling painfully against his pecs, nails somehow digging into his skin enough to draw out thick red lines beneath the shirt.

He lets you settle on his lap, quivering against his chest with the odd sniffle as you just let him stretch you out. It feels like he's in fucking heaven, and all he wants to do is grab your hips and fuck up into you until you're creaming on his cock.

"Move, Sho'," you mumble against the dewy skin of his throat after a moment of relaxing around his girth, giving your own experimental roll of your hips which earned you a pretty moan from Shoto. His hands readjusted on your hips, thick long fingers hooking just under the crease of your butt to hoist you up enough so just the tip of his cock was buried in your plush heat.

And then he let go of the restraints, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your downward thrusts at a pace that was far from slow, far from gentle. The sound of his thighs meeting yours was loud, and you were aware somewhere in the back of your mind that the car was most definitely bouncing from the force of his thrusts.

"Oh, oh my god," you moan in total abandon, eyes fluttering as you try to focus on the man who is mere inches away from your face. Both of his arms have snaked around you, pulling you hard into his chest as he leans fully back into the seat that must've been laid further back at some point. His large palms are splayed out along your spine and shoulderblades, pinning you to his sweaty body as he pounds deep and fast into you.

Shoto is struggling to keep his own eyes open, his mixture of grey and blue eyes meeting yours despite the way you're being jostled on his lap. "So fuckin' tight, you feel s'good baby." he manages to get out between his heavy panting, hissing at the way you clench around his cock at the pet name. "You like that? You like me calling you baby?"

He thinks you're nodding, it's hard to tell with how hard he's drilling into you but you keep clenching around him, moaning when he hisses the pet name when you arch your back a little more and bounce your hips of your own volition. "'m close, g'nna cum f' you." you sound utterly fucked out already, cock drunk from the way the tip of his cock keeps ploughing without mercy against the squishy soft spot deep inside of you and making your hips twitch as you get closer and closer to your slice of heaven.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," he brushes a hand along your cheek, moving the hair away from your eyes and holding your gaze. He never believed you would be capable of becoming somehow even more beautiful, but here you were; drool-covered lips, flushed features and glassy eyes from the tears that haven't stopped rolling down your cheeks from his vicious pace. You were a piece of art, and all because of him.

You're writhing against him, and he tilts his head a little to slot his lips just against your own. Not quite kissing you just yet, not until after he mutters a "Cum," against your lips. He occupies every part of your mind, swallowing you whole with the way he kisses you and the way he continues to seamlessly fuck up into you when your orgasm hits hard. You moan loud and long against his mouth, muffled with each peck of his lips.

Shoto is the first to break off, leaning his head back to admire the sight before him. You're bouncing on his cock just from the power of his own hips, your dress had long been moved from your chest from the way he had been fucking you. Then his eyes shifted down to the loud wet squelching noises coming from between your legs, a white ring formed around the base of his cock and melting into the coarse hair there.

"Such a good girl, you did so well for me sweetheart." he's rubbing soothing circles against your hips, letting you roll them gracefully against his own to let you come down from the orgasm that you hit you hard. You hum in response to his words, eyes closed as you keep your forehead pressed hard against his shoulder.

He lets you do this for a few more minutes, just gently coming down whilst he embraces you, a cold hand hooked on the back of your neck beneath your ruined hair to try and help cool you down faster. "You okay?" he mumbles against your hairline, rocking his hips with your own when you start to pick up the pace just a little bit more.

"Yeah, yeah," you whisper, planting a kiss against his throat before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "Wanna make you cum too," you smile, biting your lip gently when he thrusts his hips up again into you. "Want you to use me to cum, Sho'." and you giggle at the deep sultry groan that bubbles deep in his chest, rumbling against your hands that are pressed against you.

"You might regret that," is all he says before he's spreading his legs just a little bit more, as much as he can in a car anyway, his hands instantly latching onto your ass and throwing you up a little more over his body so your tits are directly in his face. And then he's thrusting up into you again, whilst his lips latch onto the nipple that slipped from the confines of the dress.

The vigorous pace was back, the pro displaying his stamina beautifully with the way he's effortlessly holding you up for him to fuck up into you with such force it's making your eyes cross and your stomach tighten again as the familiar white-hot heat flushes over you from head to toe. He nips and bites along your chest, moving between your nipples to make sure they're all fluffy and sore from his ministrations. You must be close again because he twitches deep inside of you mid-thrust when you clamp down around him, velvet walls squeezing him for all his worth as he tries to bully his way through the sudden tightness.

"Please," you mumble, and he doesn't even know what you're begging for but he's happy to try and meet your pleas with his even rougher thrusts, throwing his hips harshly up into yours as you drop down just as hard. "Oh, fuck, fuck." is the only warning he gets before your entire body ceases up, your muscles locking you into place and Shoto can't stop the loud moan that escapes his lips from the intense way you're clenching around him.

He doesn't stop, however, still doing his best to thrust up into you as he cums deep inside of you, unable to stop himself or even ask if he was allowed to. But fuck it felt so fucking good, your pussy was practically massaging it out of him with the rhythmic twitches of your walls.

Slowly he begins to slow down his thrusts, letting you relax on his lap with his cock still buried deep inside of you as both of your essences begin to spill from the tight confines of your pussy. He lays kisses against your shoulder, up along your neck to your ear as you heave out deep breaths, trying to refocus your mind after he fucked your brains out.

"Fuck." Shoto is the first to speak, muscles slowly relaxing and melting into the leather of his car. You laugh breathlessly, the warmth blooming against his exposed collarbones before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "I really didn't plan to have this happen so soon."

You arch an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips. "'So soon'? so you were planning on it happening at some point?" and Shoto somehow has it in him to look bashful, heat painting his pretty cheeks as he narrows his eyes to look out of the window. That's all you needed as your answer, as you leaned forward and laid a delicate kiss against his cheek before shifting up and off of him, both of you hissing at the sudden loss of heat.

"You think we'll still have our reservation?" you ask once settled back into your seat, sorting out your dress the best you could but it was really no use, he'd fucked you within an inch of your life in the thing. Shoto laughs, a low barely audible thing but it's beautiful nonetheless as he meets your eyes.

"No, I don't think so." he relaxes into his seat after tucking himself away, running a sweaty hand through his hair to try and keep it out of his eyes. "But I could always take you back to my place? Maybe try doing the whole thing the correct way this time."

And you hum as if in thought, "Sounds good." you smile, and he offers you one in return at the relief that washes over him at you accepting his offer to try and fix his fuck up of being unable to control himself before he even had the chance to take you to dinner.

But you both know deep down inside, that he's going to end up fucking you the second you step inside of his apartment, and again for many nights after that.

oh my god i didn't realise just how much i had written until after lmao, anyway hope you enjoyed :) lowkey this was a bit of a mess but i tried to give some plot to build towards my horny thoughts

↳ [masterlist]

reblogs & likes appreciated!

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atlasscrumpit · 10 months

Text

Bucky x Reader

You sat on the couch reading through some documents on your tablet. Your hand subconsciously going through Bucky's hair who was fast asleep beside you.

You heard him whine softly as you looked beside you to see his face tense in his sleep.

"Sweetheart, it's okay." He whispered running your finger over his forehead.

He jolted awake and was panting as you sat and waited to see what would happen.

He got up and began checking all the windows and doors before he returned to you and stood in front of you.

"All the exits are secure, Ma'am." He said as you smiled softly.

"Thank you, soldier. Why don't we go to sleep?" You asked as he helped you stand up.

"I'll prepare your bed for you, Ma'am." He said before walking away.

At first whenever Bucky went into Soldier mode he was violent, but now when he was in that mode all he wanted to do was serve and obey you.

You walked into your room to see Bucky waiting with your nightgown, you smiled softly and changed into it.

"Come join me, love." You said as he looked at you in shock.

"But I shouldn't..." He whispered as you took his hands.

"I'd love nothing more than to you have you beside me to protect me, soldier." You whispered looking up at him and his face softened a little.

He climbed into the bed and cuddled into your chest, making you smile.

"The only thing you need to do is rest now, soldier."

The next afternoon you finally returned from a meeting, something didn't feel quite right.

You opened the door to your apartment and gasped when you saw Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in your apartment talking to Bucky.

"You have two seconds to explain why you have broken into my apartment!" You shouted as you advanced towards them.

Tony pointed his blaster at you as you looked at him in shock.

Bucky quickly ran towards you and put himself in front of you.

"Enough!" Bucky shouted as Tony lowered his weapon.

"Bucky, she's keeping you here against your will and you're going to protect her?" Steve said in disbelief as you stepped out from behind Bucky.

"Can someone please explain why you're in my home accusing me of holding Bucky fucking captive?" You growled at the two Avengers as they looked at you angrily.

"You're an ex Hydra agent, a pretty powerful one." Steve said as you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I was and I payed for my crimes so now I live a simple life. I rescued Bucky and cared for him when he didn't even know his own name. How dare you come here and accuse me of that!" You shouted at him before Bucky stepped forward.

"Please, no one needs to fight. I live here with Y/N. She isn't forcing me to stay." Bucky said as he looked at his former friend.

"Bucky... I missed you, I searched for you for so long and now I finally have you here. I can't let you go." Steve said as you glared at him.

"Well, he isn't..."

"I was talking to Bucky." Steve interrupted as you saw Bucky's jaw clench in anger.

"Don't speak to her like that, unless you want to lose your head." Bucky threatened as Steve looked at him in shock.

"Bucky... What has she done to you?" Steve asked making you want to grab your gun and shoot him right between the eyes.

"She didn't do anything to me! Hydra did this! The only reason I can even remember my own fucking name or even speak is because of Y/N! She isn't a villain, she's a fucking hero. Now get the fuck out of our house!" Bucky shouted making you look at him in shock.

Steve and Tony faltered for a moment before leaving.

"You know where to find me, Buck." Steve said before they left.

Once they were fully gone, Bucky went over to you and fell to his knees before hugging your waist and resting his head on your stomach.

"I'm sorry... I don't want to leave. Please don't be angry." He whispered making you smile softly.

You ran your hand through his hair.

"Darling, I'm not angry at all. You protected me, and I don't mind if you want to go see Steve. I don't like that he broke in though." You grumbled before Bucky stood up and looked down at you.

You smiled and pulled him forward into a gentle kiss.

"I love you." He whispered before nuzzling into your neck while you wrapped your arms around him.

"I love you too, baby."

#Mcu #Marvel #Avengers #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #The winter soldier #Tony Stark

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leggerefiore · 7 months

Text

Opposing The Villainous Team Leaders

cw: angsty as usual, questioning of trust, sort of happy endings?

characters: Lysandre, Cyrus, Archie, Maxie

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ He was well aware of the trainer interfering in his team's plans. It was also known that they resembled you, his lover. Lysandre truly did not believe it was, however. There was no reason for you to do such a thing. You were, of course, a member of Team Flare yourself. Not an active one, no, he would not have you so deeply involved. Your membership was simply understood. At least, to him. It was mostly him trying to convince himself it was a misunderstanding or that some person had disguised themselves as you to harm him.

☕️ Which is why he felt confused when one of his admins had reported your presence at the Pokeball Factory. A picture was undeniable proof. Your pokemon party was something he knew well. A shiny Pyroar featured in the picture was a gift from him. His heart burned. It must have been a misunderstanding. You would never do such a thing. Your support for his creation of a beautiful world was something he had heard many times. Long conversations between the cusp of slumber and consciousness, or over a cup of coffee in his café. This must have been you thinking they were doing something cruel. Your heart was too fragile; exactly why you were not an active member.

☕️ Another image came to him of you in Frost Cavern, stopping Team Flare from taking a Mamoswine. His patience was growing short, but he understood your heart was in the right place. You were truly kind. It was a reason he had fallen in love with you. That was why he kept his true plans a secret from you for so long. The frustration of his scientists and admins was bleeding into him, however. Your interference could put you at risk. Lysandre subtly tried to distract you with assorted dates and meetings in Lumiose.

☕️ It seemed as if it worked. You were too busy to act out and kept in his line of sight for careful monitoring. He felt relieved that the misunderstanding had been resolved. It truly must have been an unfortunate case of your kind heart leading to you accidentally opposing him. You were a beautiful person who could be the one to claim Lysandre as a lover. It was why felt confident to release his message and truly begin his plans. The key was nearly his for the Ultimate Weapon.

☕️ Then, you showed up in his labs with a horribly aggressive expression. Your eyes landed on him as he stood in front of the elevator. Had something happened? He was about to ask when you snapped at him. “What in the world do you think you're doing?” you shouted and brought out a pokeball. He felt offended. What did you think you were doing? “I won't let you do this,” you continued and tossed out your pokemon. He stood in even more offence. You… You couldn't be truly intending to…? Lysandre sighed. He engaged you in battle with little hesitation.

☕️ Your victory made him more upset. What had got into you? This behaviour was simply unlike you. He watched as you stepped towards him. Your eyes met his. “... Lysandre, please stop this,” you begged him, “This is insanity! You truly can't intend to kill everyone but Team Flare!” Your kind heart again… Oh, how your hurt expression wounded him deeply. He shook his head. It was far too late to back out from his plans. You simply were fighting the inevitable, but having you in the way would be painful. The risk of you leaving a safe location was also something he considered heavily. Distracting you by letting you play the hero seemed best for now.

☕️ Which is how he allowed things to continue. The weapon would be used whether you wished it to or not, you just needed to allow him enough time to prepare it. He even let you make the choice in an attempt to appeal to your better nature. Unfortunately, you guessed the button to stop the weapon. He had already long gone from the labs at that point, however. The final phase was upon them. Lysandre knew you would follow after him, too. Your safety was still ensured. He would bide more time when you got here.

☕️ Your opposition grew more and more frustration as the end drew closer, yet closer. The way you argued with him about this, feeling more like a lover's quarrel than something of philosophical debate. The resulting battle failed to buy him enough time to activate the weapon, and his loss had him stand aside. His admins and grunts would have to be the one's to halt you, it seemed. Before you left down the staircase, he felt his stomach twist painfully. Of all people, you being so foolish was not expected. Your rejection of the beautiful world he wished to create was something that burned him painfully.

☕️ His already ruined mood was pure rage as admins alerted him that you managed to awaken and capture the legendary pokemon despite numerous attempts to stop you. He rushed down to retrieve it, tired of letting you play hero. They were ninety-nine percent done with the absorption. There was no more reason to let you keep playing these games. Lysandre would unfortunately have to crush the hope that had coasted you along thus far. He stood stiffly before you as you glared at him. “My love,” his voice was commanding, “Return the pokemon at once. This is for the best. I know you have your reservations, but I do not wish for this to become any more difficult than it already has been.” Your silent head shake spoke louder than words could have been shouted. When this was over, he would force you to see his plans were the right thing.

☕️ The moments after the battle were a mess of rage and pain. He screamed and threats were issued. You were unaffected by it all as you simply dragged him away from the darkened chamber of nothing but wire and ominous dull light. His contingency plan failed, as he watched the weapon's attack fall back toward it and destroy the hideout underneath. Lysandre wished he could have been smothered under the rubble rather than face the failure of his plans, but it seemed you were not for allowing that either. He ordered you and you to an isolated retreat as he recuperated from the ordeal. You had ruined everything he had so tirelessly worked for. Yet, he could not even bring himself to hate you. He stood beside you as you gazed at a lapping ocean from the sanctuary of a balcony. “... You have chosen a world of conflict and suffering,” he sighed, “This beautiful world will rot.” You just leaned into his side in reply, silently nuzzling into the soft fabric of his robe. Lysandre bit his tongue. For now, the topic would be postponed.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss had heard about the trainer who kept interrupting his team's activities. At first, he opted to ignore it. His subordinates failings were annoying, sure, but it was no actual hindrance to his plans. The trainer could keep playing hero, he did not care. His underlings complaints and descriptions did not even draw his curiosity. It was this apathy, in retrospect, that made the actual situation have such an awful impact on him.

☄️ Celestic Town was supposed to be an intel gathering trip. He still needed to confirm a few theories and possibilities before completely putting his plans into action. One of his grunts, there to assist him, was being loud suddenly. He came to investigate why and felt himself freeze. Of all people… His posture became horribly stiff. The Galactic grunt, an old lady… and you. He tried to maintain himself. So, what if you were here? You were free to go wherever you pleased. Cyrus was not restrictive towards his partner.

☄️ Your battle with the grunt was over in an instant. The moment your eyes met, he could understand everything. The grunt looking mortified to have been defeated in front of him to you staring at him with widened eyes. “… Beloved,” he said simply, “This is unfortunate. I had not wished to involve you in this.” It was obvious you were not listening to his explanation for why he was doing this, which worsened his now ruined mood. The battle that followed caught him off-guard, despite being the one to initiate. His loss must have been due to the affection his pokemon held toward you. Cyrus forced himself to ignore the discomfort your glare singed into him. Temporary, he reminded himself.

☄️ The stories of a trainer interfering in his team's work now haunted him as he headed back to Veilstone. Had you known it was him that lead Team Galactic before then? It did not seem so. Your reaction was that of genuine surprise. Every negative emotion this situation wrought forth from the both of you would be gone with the completion of his plans. Still, he felt strangely… upset. His chest felt tight in a way it had not for many years. It was not a surprise to find you had packed a bag and seemingly left the apartment you both shared. The tightness in his chest felt suffocating.

☄️ His commanders' frustrations about the trainer came through their lines of communication after the awakening and subsequent kidnapping of the legendary pokemon of the lakes. You were not making this easy. Everything was nearly done. His stress was already high enough as it were. All of his commanders being utterly defeated by you made him ponder what this was leading up to. The tightness in his chest grow painful. His hand grasped his shirt over it. The disgusting incomplete spirit forced inside was nothing but torment.

☄️ A last speech to his team left him with a dry throat and tired mind. Forcing himself to speak publicly was always exhausting, but even more so when he saw you attempting to hide just out of sight. Cyrus still was not entirely sure how the following confrontation would fare for you both. It was little surprise when you stepped into his office. Your face was fierce… Until, it was not. Part of him wished to mock the fleeting emotions, but another piece that he wished to suppress the painful expression that fell across your face.

☄️ The battle between you both was one of willpower on both sides. Your heart was entirely in the battle, desperate to stop him, but he could not back down. Not so close to the realisation of his ideal world. You simply did not understand the peace this world would hold. All your conflicting emotions would fizzle away into nothingness, allowing you to finally be at ease. He, too, would be at ease. His victory felt hollow. Your tears nearly made him hesitate. They would no longer matter, he had to remind himself. This new world was mostly for him… But he would not lie and say he failed to consider the benefits of it for you. He left the building with the red chain securely in his possession. You would understand.

☄️ Your opposition saw you even to Spear Pillar. Mars and Jupiter barely managed to buy him enough time to force both the legendary pokemon of time and space out. Your panicked yell could only echo out as a third shadowy pokemon emerged. Annoyance filled Cyrus, but he already prepared himself to call upon the power of time and space and make his perfect world. You would be forgiven for opposing him. Soon, this will not matter at all – The uninvited pokemon came down over him.

☄️ His upset and rage only led to more upset and rage. Emotions, vile and consuming, swirled inside him. His plans were almost finished. You had made everything worse, grabbing onto him right before it had dragged him here. He was going to initiate another battle when you grabbed his hand. The heat of it sank into him. Your eyes were big as you stared at him. His hatred of spirit only grew harsher when he saw you in pain. “Cyrus… Stop, please," you begged him, “Do… Do you truly want to live in a world where we can't even love each other?” He froze.

☄️ You battled the pokemon, Giratina, not long after. He turned away after you captured it and returned to his side. Cyrus would not leave this world yet urged you to. There was no reason for you to remain here. You refused, naturally, and found yourself pressed to his side. There was nothing he could say to make you reconsider, he already knew. A final message to Saturn to not look for him and do to what he wished with Team Galactic left you both together in the strange dimension. He had no intentions of stopping pursuing his goals. “I will not stop,” he had warned, and you just smiled. A tight embrace from you told him everything without saying a word – Neither would you.

🌧Archie🌊

💧 Truly, when he saw you battling his grunts at the Oceanic Museum, he just shrugged it off. Battling was fun, and maybe they had done something to frustrate you. No big deal. You just did not get what they were doing because he had not told you. That was on him. Which why he squeezed you into a tight hug and explained what they were doing. You would get it, he trusted. His Luvdisc knew he would only act with good intentions for the bettering of pokemon and the oceans. Your expression still seemed a bit sceptical. Well, that was fine. You would come around and let it go.

💧 Then… Mt. Chimney happened. The investigation was going well until Maxie decided to have his grunts interrupt. It was annoying, but not something that would stop him. No, what stopped him was you. Beating Shelly, you rushed over with a pokeball still in your hand. What, had you missed him? He had been a bit busy for you lately. Before he could start to apologise, you demanded to know what he was doing with the meteorite. His explanation did not seem to please you, unfortunately. What was up with you? The pokemon you sent out told him you wanted a battle at least. He engaged you instantly. Your victory left him confused, but the meteorite plan was left behind with a message from Matt.

💧 Well, he may have been a bit in denial still, but a third confrontation kind of sealed your intentions to him. Your harsh expression as you demanded he stop was haunting, honestly. You being upset was not a sight he particularly enjoyed. Which is why it felt worse with the nearing of his plan's completion. He told Matt to handle you as he made off with the Blue Orb, not wanting to be swayed over by your pout even a little bit. Did you not believe in him? It stung, but he supposed everyone was entitled to their own feelings. Archie just wished yours did not lead to you opposing him so fiercely. He had to dodge your hand reaching out for him as he ran off. Your expression became something of hurt.

💧 You showing up at the harbour and demanding he stop this finally sealed it. Yeah, you had entirely disagreed with his intentions to wake up Kyogre. That would make you the second person in his life to explicitly call out his plans and go out of your way to attempt to stop them. He and Shelly got away in the submarine, while he felt deflated. Come on, why did it have to be you? He could stand Maxie doing it, but you were just salt on the wound. You seemed to love his interest in helping save the oceans and pokemon before, but when he actually has a fathomable goal, you start going against him? He crossed his arms. Great, now you had him second guessing himself.

💧 He had wanted you at his side for this. You would stand with him, just like Matt and Shelly, grinning as he awoke Kyogre from its slumber to set this world back to a pure state. But, instead, he had you upset with him and demanding he stop. Archie knew you would feel dumb when his plans were completed and everything was better. He would forgive you without needing an apology and put this period behind you both. It would be a nice change. As it was, he hated this. Your support was something he craved. It was not needed, but it would be pleasant to have you smile at him and tell him he was doing something good.

💧 When you burst into the cavern right after he beat Maxie, he felt in between a blast of pride at beating his rival and getting ready to awaken Kyogre and upset. You were trying to stop him again! He was absolutely not letting you this late in the game. Alright, he did not want to have to crush you, but he could not let you even think of stopping him any more. Your battle was intense and full of clear emotions. No matter the outcome, he was awakening Kyogre. Your victory still stung, though. More of your opposition digging into his heart. Shelly suddenly turning against him completely caught him off guard.

💧 Archie was mortified by what followed. The heavy downpour coming down hard on the surface nearly brought him to his knees. This was not what he had wanted at all. A world flood? Absolutely not. He found himself holding you in a tight hug, and he apologised for not listening to you. Instantly, he worked with you to stop the super-ancient pokemon. The Aqua Suit was handed off to you, while he could only hope for your safety as you headed deep into the cave. His relief came when the clouds departed from the sky, and you returned alive and well with the beast captured.

💧 The both of you ended up at his room in the Aqua Hideout some time afterwards, exhausted from the insane events of the day. You laid down on his bed while he took a seat beside you. He felt a bit too lucky you were there to stop him. If you had not been so aggressive in stopping him… He shuddered. This world would not be in a liveable state for anything. “I'm sorry,” Archie said with little hesitation, “I got too caught up in everything… Guess I wasn't thinking straight. It should have been obvious when you AND Shelly started sayin' it was a bad idea.” You looked at him curiously.

💧 Pulling him down, you forced him into a cuddle. He eagerly gave in, happy to finally have some precious alone time with his Luvdisc. Your hands came to cup his face, burying themselves in his beard. He chuckled a bit, but your expression was stern. You squeezed his face. “Bad Archie,” you told him, “You wanting to protect the oceans and pokemon is a good, noble thing, but if you try to flood everyone again, I'll leave you for Maxie or something.” He gasped. You would not! He hugged you tightly. That threat held some heavy weight.

💧 While your opposition had been upsetting, he was ultimately glad that you had done it. There was some kind of madness he would admit having lost himself in, and you being constantly on him about it made him actually be able to realise the errors of his actions. Plus, it was always good to know his partner was fully ready to stop him from doing something stupid. Next time, he hoped for a discussion from you and him to actually sit down and listen, however.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 When he had encountered you battling his grunts at the museum, he had thought little of it. His assumption was that you were confused by his intentions. Understandable, truthfully, as he had yet to sit you down and converse about the ultimate goal of Team Magma with you. Despite being his partner, he had yet to involve you. While he may have chosen to stay in his hideout with his team, you did not live there. He sighed and apologised for any ill behaviour from his grunts before explaining his goals. You had nodded along, so he assumed that you understood that he was not up to anything malicious. Maxie expected this situation to be a one-off thing brought on by confusion and misunderstandings.

🪨 That, however, proved to be a wrong assessment on his part. Your presence at Mt. Chimney was unexpected. The fact that you seemingly went out of the way to defeat every single grunt – with the annoying aid of Team Aqua – in order to stop him from using the meteorite he had taken as a possible way to awaken Groudon. He barely had time to question just what you were doing before you tossed out a pokemon for a battle. Was this truly how this was going? Why were you opposing him? Did you not understand? He supposed he would simply have to show his intentions with a battle. Your victory left him astonished. Maxie was not unaware that you were a trainer, but he did not expect to be bested so easily. The volcano plan was begrudgingly given up.

🪨 Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence… A third almost certainly shows purpose, despite how he wished to deny that possibility. Maxie truly did not want to consider the idea that you opposed his goals. Why would you? Surely, you must have understood how important they were to him and trusted him enough to make a good decision. He felt his face genuinely drop at the sight of you at Mt. Pyre. A determined look shined in your eyes. His stomach twisted. Why was this happening? He kept up his facade as he excused himself and ordered Courtney to instead battle you. His plans were nearly completed, and he did not to risk losing time or sanity here. The look you glared into him pierced him deeply as he walked away.

🪨 Your appearance at the harbour truly forced the complicated feelings to set in. Your voice calling out to him and shaming him made his breathing fall uneven as he and Tabitha departed in the stolen submarine. When he felt alone, he ran a hand through his red hair while pondering your intentions. You had not said a word to him about disapproval or disagreement with his interesting in evolving humanity and aiding in overall progress. Suddenly, as soon as he decided to express interest in expanding the landmass, you started harshly and aggressively standing against him. It made him falter.

🪨 Truly, Maxie had wanted to invite you to join Team Magma and stand beside him as he brought his ambitions to fruition. That was simply impossible as it stood. It hurt to lose yet another person in his life to his plans. You would forgive him and apologise for your opposition when he had finished his plans, however. He took off his glasses and sighed in the cramped space of the submarine. Your support would truly do wonders. Only you could make him second guess himself, even with the endless support of his scientists, grunts, and admins.

🪨 You showing up in the Seafloor Cavern was utterly tormenting. Maxie had just defeated Archie as you entered the chamber with an upset expression on your face. He sighed. This was not time for proper discussion, alas. The look in your eyes told him that you absolutely felt the same. Groudon was within his reach. He hoped this defeat would convince you to his side. His loss frustrated him endlessly as he turned away from you. The painful feelings were enough from just having you against him, much less being defeated by you. Apparently your opposition was contagious, as Tabitha then decided to oppose him, too.

🪨 He was not one to admit when he was wrong. Maxie was headstrong and stubborn. Described much like his favourite choice in pokemon, but he even he felt obligated to apologise when he saw the world-ending scenario he had brought upon the world despite your continued attempts to stop him. He did not feel the horrible feeling in his chest subside, even after you risked your safety in trying to quell Groudon. You even managed to catch it. He bit his tongue for so long.

🪨 When it was finally you both alone in his room in the Magma Hideout, Maxie felt his trained posture drop as he gazed at you. You sat on his bed with your arms crossed. He took a seat beside you. His eyes could not meet your own from the shame burning in his chest. “I apologise,” he managed to get out after an uncomfortable silence, “… I still wish to pursue my goals of bettering humanity, but I see that my intentions with Groudon were short-sighted and dangerous.” The redhead finally moved to look at you. You seemed less upset.

🪨 Your arms came around him to pull him into a hug, making him freeze for a moment. The affection was something he had missed during this busy and stressful period of his life. The embrace was returned slowly. “Maxie, I love you a lot,” you softly told him. He felt his heart race. The words were reciprocated instantly, desperate to show that he still cared for you, too. “Now, you're a scientist, right,” you moved to look into his bespectacled gaze, “How did you not consider the possibility that Groudon would eliminate all water through its drought? Or even what offsetting the current balance of the earth would actually do short-term and long-term?” Maxie felt his cheeks burn. You were unfortunately right again.

🪨 Thankfully, your opposition was mostly understood after the high of summoning Groudon subsided. You understood his heart was in the right place, but he somehow lost his critical thinking skills along the way. There were some slight concerns in trust, but a proper discussion between you both helped soothe the worries away. He felt glad, too, secretly. Maxie would come to trust that you would call out his bad ideas when others may hesitate.

#pokemon x reader #lysandre x reader #cyrus x reader #archie x reader #maxie x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon lysandre x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon archie x reader #pokemon maxie x reader #lysandre/reader #cyrus/reader #archie/reader #maxie/reader

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iwasntfree · 11 months

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Four Proofs by Richard Siken

Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, 1905-1906

When she saw herself, finished, she said, It doesn’t look like me. Picasso said, It will. Perhaps it will look like her because it is the document and will remain, while she is just a person who will fade. Now, when we think of her, we think of this painting. Picasso was planning ahead. The painting is evidence but not proof. There’s no proof that she looked like that, even though we have the document. She existed enough to be painted. She could have been an idea, but that’s another kind of existing. The hand is a tool. The brush is a tool. The paint as well. There is no machine here, but the work gets done. A hammer is a tool when banging its head but a lever when pulling up nails. A lever is a machine, has a fulcrum which can be moved to change the ratio of something or other, effort for distance. There is a fulcrum in the mind that can be moved as well. I do not know what else to say about this.

Raphael, Saint George and the Dragon, 1504-06

It’s hard to talk about what you believe while you are believing it. Fervor reduces thought to shorthand and all we get is an icon. Give a man a weapon and you have a warrior. Put him on a horse and you have a hero. The weapon is a tool. The horse is a metaphor. Raphael painted this twice—white horse facing east against the greens, white horse facing west against the yellows. The maiden flees or prays, depending. A basic dragon, the kind you’d expect from the Renaissance. Evidence of evil but not proof. There’s a companion piece as well: Saint Michael. Paint angels, it’s easier: you don’t need the horse. Michael stands on Satan’s throat, vanquishing, while everything brown burns red. All these things happened. Allegedly. When you paint an evil thing, do you invoke it or take away its power? This has nothing to do with faith but is still a good question. Raphael was trying to say something about spirituality. This could be the definition of painting. The best part of spirituality is reverence. There are other parts. Some people like to hear the sound of their own voice. If you don’t believe in the world it would be stupid to paint it. If you don’t believe in God, who are you talking to?

Caravaggio, David with the Head of Goliath, 1609-1610

Wanted for murder, a price on his head, Caravaggio does what he always does—he tries to paint his way out of it. This bad boy—whose moodiness came to be called the Baroque, this thug whose soul was as big as Rome and full of anvils—paints his own face on Goliath’s severed head and offers himself up as villain, captured, to escape the hammers of the law. Allegory, yes. A truth as well. But truth doesn’t count in law, only proof. He took the gods and made them human. His Bacchus was a worn-out drunk. An animal likely to sleep in a pool of its own sick. He raised the status of the still life, made subjects out of objects, turned nature into drama—the bloom on the grapes, the bloom on the boys, leaves as important as nudes. Exaggerated light, pure theater. Evidence of a mind he delights in. Evicted from Rome, he wants back in. They want his head, and he’s prepared to give it to them. He paints David in yellow pants while the pope’s nephew arranges his pardon. July 1610— Caravaggio rolls up his paintings and sets sail from Naples, heading north. They stop for supplies. No one’s heard of the pardon. Jail. He pays his way out, but the boat and his paintings have sailed on without him. He follows. Malaria. He dies three days before his pardon arrives and three days after Rembrandt’s fourth birthday. His painted head arrives in Rome weeks later. All painting is sent downstream, into the future.

René Magritte, La Clairvoyance, 1936

Odin had ravens. Zeus was a swan. Magritte saw an egg and painted a bird. Part of heroism is being able to see the future and still remain standing. If you don’t believe in God or Fate you still must believe in narrative. I am waiting for you, here in the trainstation, says the trainstation. Philosophy is thinking. Prophesy is wishful thinking. It’s easy to find evidence of the future but harder to make people believe you. This is only obvious if you have tried. Odin had proxies. Zeus had disguises. Magritte saw the back of his head in a mirror. Not hindsight, not really. A debriefing. He claimed that an image was treacherous. He was right about that but he might not have understood directionality. His paintings, though mysterious, conceal nothing. A possible world and its incomprehensibilities. A purposeful distortion. Dreaming in the service of. True in the sense of carpentry.

#1 #5

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colscomicsandstuff · 1 year

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Princess Amethyst the "Purple Menace": A New Hope Arises - Chapter 2: Curiousity

If you have found this before reading the first chapter, I recommend reading the first chapter of this story, as well as my Amethyst the "Purple Menace" AU post, first to have knowledge. Anyways... let's-a go!

(the next morning, we see Slog grabbing a bagel and a cup of coffee along with a bag to collect parts, preparing to leave)

Slog: Dudes, I will see you two later. I have a certain place to go to to learn more… yes, I promise I will bring you more parts, Pegacorn.

Pegacorn: (neighs)

(Slog pets Bowser, as he then rides on his hoverboard to Gemworld. When he got there, he hops off)

Slog: (to himself) Two goals for today. One… collect the parts like you do everyday. And two, learn more about Gemworld before its fall.

(Slog then looks around for parts to collect. As hours go by, he has been grabbing parts… however, he ends up seeing a stone tablet lying around)

Slog: Huh, dude… (grabs the tablet) Where did this come from? (looks around) I have a feeling that this tablet may have fallen here while Gemworld fell apart. I might have to translate this later, dude. (puts it in the bag)

(as he looks around, he sees some furniture)

Slog: Huh?

(he walks into what appears to be a outdoor camp with a hammock as a bed)

Slog: I feel bad for someone living here, dude. Especially since they would always get wet because of rain. You know… I am curious to explore this place.

(as he explores around, he sees a picture of Princess Amethyst and Prince Topaz in their prom-like attire)

Slog: Huh? Is that… Princess Amethyst and Prince Topaz? Apparently, their death apparently impacted them so much that they wanted to collect pictures of them. I hope no dude can mind while I take this… (grabs it)

(he notices some machine parts)

Slog: Perfect. I need more-

(a whoosh is heard)

Slog: …what the everloving hell is that, dude?

(he follows where the whoosh came from and he walks to a grave with all of the fallen citizens and heroes that died during the Gemworld Purge as a hooded person walks to it)

Slog: (quietly) …The Gemworld Purge Grave… a lot of people died. That’s very harsh, dude…

(the hooded person unhoods herself, revealing herself to be… Princess Amethyst, who is in tears)

Slog: (quietly) …The Purple Menace… (makes a shocked face) is Princess Amethyst?! This is insanity! I thought she died during the purge!

Princess Amethyst: (sniffs) Hey, friends… it’s been a whole year since that dreaded event and here I am, exiled and powerless. (sheds a tear) I am sorry that I was UNABLE to stop Dark Opal in time… and citizens think HE is the good guy and I am the villain, which is OBVIOUSLY isn’t true.

Slog: (quietly) Wait, dude… is she saying she is never a bad guy and that Dark Opal dude lied to us about The Purple Menace, which is her, dude- (sees robots flying to her)

Princess Amethyst: (notices the robots) …oh, come on…

Robot: There you are, crook.

Princess Amethyst: Crook, huh? The real crook is your stupid boss. (prepares her weapons)

Robot #2: Talking trash about the ruler of this world, you whiny bloody brat?

Robot #3: Rule Number 1… always say good things and be royal to- (gets impaled in the head by Princess Amethyst using a scythe)

Princess Amethyst: Never.

Robot: Robots… exterminate her.

(the robots start attacking Princess Amethyst, turning into an intense fight)

Slog: (amazed) Wow… no wonder why the city would do curfews every night. She’s deadly, dude.

(an oil-drenched Princess Amethyst uses her axe to behead a robot, and then shows the head into the other robot’s head, destroying it instantly. However, a robot then grabs her neck and its hands turn into a knife, preparing to stab her in the heart. Slog notices, and looks around to see a spear lying. He grabs it and throws)

Robot: Any last words, menace?

Princess Amethyst: … (sniffs) At least I get to join the rest…

(the robot then moves his arm to stab her. However, just before he could do so, the spear goes through the sides of the robots’ torso, destroying it instantly)

Princess Amethyst: Huh?

Slog: (sighs) Wow- (sees Amethyst saw him, panicking) H-HUH?! SHE SAW ME, DUDE!! I GOTTA RUN! (runs)

Princess Amethyst: Wait, I am not who you think I am!

(she runs to chase Slog, ending Chapter 2)

Princess Amethyst (c) DC Comics

#amethyst princess of gemworld #alternate universe #au #fanfic

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dycefic · 3 years

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Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

Text

The Villain and His Therapist - Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"You know, that shade of pink looks lovely on you," Villain purred, descending the stairs to lean against the kitchen counter.

Juliet paused where she was scrambling eggs in a skillet and glanced down at her attire of soft blue pajama pants and oversized grey sweater. "I'm not wearing any pink," she said slowly, lifting her gaze to look at the Villain.

He'd just come down from a shower, dark locks of hair curling over his forehead. He smelled of her green apple shampoo. It made her insides swoop all funny.

Villain's lips tugged into an easy grin as he took one step closer, two. He paused directly in front of her to lift a hand, brushing his knuckles feather-light against her burning cheek.

"I was referring to your blush. It suits you quite beautifully." His voice was liquid gold. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.

Remembering herself, Juliet swatted his hand away and covered her cheeks with her palms. "I'm not blushing."

He didn't try to hide the amusement on his face.

"Mm, whatever were you thinking about, Doctor Meadows?" Villain took Juliet's hands to gently pry them away from her face, using the hold on her wrists to pull her closer.

Juliet sucked in a soft breath, looking up at him. The sun streaming through the window caught the highlights of his handsome face and illuminated his dark irises, turning them to molten amber.

"I...was...thinking about how gentle you can be. When you calmed me down that night, you were patient and sensitive; you displayed a lot of empathy and care. I'm really proud of you. You've come a long way."

Villain's grin grew a little softer as he tilted his head to the side, studying her face. The way he looked at her used to make her feel like prey being stalked by a lion. Now...it made her feel like she was the only thing in his universe.

Her stomach fluttered.

Juliet swallowed, continuing. "I imagine it isn't easy for you to be so vulnerable. I'm glad that you feel safe enough with me to be soft."

Villain brushed her fringe away from her face, tapping the side of her head. "That psychologist brain of yours never turns off, does it?"

She smiled sheepishly, gaze dipping down to the floor.

Villain's finger hooked under her chin, lifting it gently. "I never said I didn't like it. You are my therapist, after all."

Villain leaned in closer, eliciting the slightest hitch in her breath. He smiled, relishing her response.

His breath ghosted over her lips, leaving them tingling in anticipation.

"Yours?" she asked softly. Her mouth had gone dry.

"Would you like to be?"

Juliet's thoughts were rarely clear on her face. She was difficult to read under the years of training keeping her steady and prepared. Villain wanted to unpick that artificial calm from her; to map her every reaction. He wanted to watch her sigh and blush and smile...

"The eggs are going to burn," Juliet whispered, watching him.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Villain reached over her shoulder, turning off the stove. In one fluid movement, he turned with her, pressing her back against the counter.

If her cheeks were warm before, they were blazing now. Villain smiled again, this time something so fond it dazzled her senses. The world narrowed to just the two of them, flush together.

Juliet's hands fell against Villain's chest, lightly resting against the soft cotton of his shirt.

She breathed in his scent.

"Villain?"

"Mm?" he murmured, the hum of his voice vibrating against her palms.

"When your brother- What he said about how you feel...about me... Is it true?" She held his gaze, holding her breath.

"My sweet Juliet Meadows." His voice alone was enough to melt her. He took one of her hands with deliberate gentleness and placed a kiss against her fingers. "If only I were brave enough to say it out loud."

"You can say it in other ways," Juliet breathed.

His eyes gleamed.

"Oh I intend to," Villain said softly.

Villain's gaze flicked down to Juliet's lips. He kept one hand on her waist, slotting the other into her hair. He leaned in until their lips brushed. Pausing, he seemed to catch himself, probably remembering Juliet's comments in therapy about the importance of healthy communication.

He smiled again, sharp and beautiful. His warm breath grazed her skin while his thumb traced lazy circles against her jaw. "May I?" he whispered, his lips hovering just barely above hers.

Juliet opened her mouth to answer, and-

The door burst open.

Juliet jolted in surprise, panic shooting through her as she gripped Villain's arms before she caught sight of who was really at the door.

The figure was fitted in a deep red super-suit, a black mask concealing his identity.

She relaxed, releasing a breath through gritted teeth. "Hero?"

"Doctor Meadows," Hero said, relief flooding his expression. "I heard what happened to you on the news and with Supervillain's escape, I knew you were in danger so I-"

His eyes narrowed as he seemed to notice Villain for the first time. "You get away from her," he hissed marching closer, crimson beams of tech-powered energy sparking to life in his palms. "Let her go and get out."

Villain hardened at the sight of him in turn, straightening and pulling out an advanced weapon. "Now that's insulting, at least I was invited inside." His voice was smooth and dangerous. Chilling.

A far cry from the man who had held her close and smiled fondly only moments ago.

Juliet stepped between them, holding up a hand in each direction. "Stop."

"You invited him in? Doctor Meadows, he's Supervillain's brother! He's probably here to finish the job for him!"

"Oh that's rich," Villain interjected. "For all your self-righteous monologues begging me to change, to be better, when I actually try, you can't accept it."

"I'm not willing to bet Doctor Meadow's life on your 'moral awakening,'" Hero spat.

"Hero," Juliet said in the no-nonsense voice her job often required her to use. "Take a deep breath. Villain would never hurt me, you don't need to worry about that."

"He-"

"-is in rehabilitation," Juliet finished for him. "He is my patient, just as you are. He has made tremendous progress, you are in no position to discredit his reformation. I promise you that I am safe with him."

Hero stared, studying the pair. Villain's jaw was clenched, glaring hard at the hero. Juliet touched his shoulder and some of the tension immediately dissolved from him.

Hero extinguished the energy beams in his palms, shifting into a less guarded stance. He regarded them for a second longer.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"You want to prove you have good intentions? Help me find Supervillain and bring him in, for good this time," Hero said. "I can't do it alone."

Villain turned to look at Juliet. She stepped closer, taking his hand as she spoke.

"No. I don't want you to put yourself in a position where your recovery might be compromised again. You're too close to the situation to act rationally, and it would be too much of a trigger for you."

Villain's gaze softened as it landed on her, any hostility in his demeanor vanishing like it had never been there. He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers, leaning in. His thumb dipped down to graze her lips.

Villain kissed her cheek, her chin, the corner of her mouth. He straightened, eyes intent, looking like he wanted to kiss her properly--but not until they were alone.

When time would suspend like frost in the air and the moment would belong solely to the two of them, in the quiet and safety of each other.

Juliet's skin felt cold at the loss of his touch. Dread swirled in the pit of her stomach.

Villain turned to Hero, observing him for a moment before extending a hand to shake. "Deal."

Sorry I haven't posted in so loooong. I kept putting off writing this bc I was worried id mess it up lol. This is officially the longest series I've posted so far (the rest of my snippets have 3 parts or less) so wooo! Let me know if you want to see more :)

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , (@distractedlydistracted i think forgot to tag you in the last part, oops)

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my stories. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

Edit: the tags weren't working so I redid them through mobile, let me know if it worked!

#i was editing this in my drafts and it crashed on me so I had to redo all that hahaahha funnn #my writing #writeblr #short story #flash fiction #hero x civilian #hero x villain #villain x hero #civillain x villain #villain x civillian #fiction #superhero #supervillains

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

Text

The Adventures of Miss Mischief 1

Chapter 1

@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 23: Enemies to lovers

Ao3 *** Here *** Part 2

Obviously this turned out way to long, and it kindof went in its own direction so here is part one of i have no idea how many.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette Todd was never one to back down from anything. When her parents died leaving both her and her big brother orphans she didn’t cry. In fact, she became tough and nails. She could use her size and innocent features and be able to pickpocket and manipulate situations on her favor. But that was all turned in its head the night her big brother didn’t cone back. She knew it was dangerous and beyond reckless to go out and look for him, but she did. She went out and looked, for him anyways.

As she was running across the rooftops when she was hit and grabbed. She looked around quickly before her eyes landed on Joker.

“Shit!” Was a breathed trough her teeth.

The maniac clown walked towards her laughing.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He laughed as he spoke. “What’s your name girly?” The henchman holding her tightened his hold on her neck effectively choking her when she didn’t answer. Mari knew she had to do something, she let fear wash over her features tapping the arm of the thug. “Let her go.”

She fell limply to the ground gasping for breath. “Not on your life.” She knocked the legs out from under the bench man and ran. She jumped off of the roof, the moment she landed she heard the crack and knew she broke her leg, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to stop so she ran, turned corners, jumped over what she could, but did not stop.she would have continued to run had someone not pulled her out of oncoming traffic and in turn her flight state.

“Hey are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you understand what I’m saying?” She finally nodded at the last question. “My name is Jim Gordon what’s your’s.” She stayed quiet. “Can you speak?” She nodded. “Do you have a name?” She stayed quiet. “Do you have someone to call?” Quiet. “Are you a street kid?” Quiet again. He pulled out a phone and spoke. “Commissioner Gordon here, I have a street kid needing medical attention, broken leg.” He hung up after giving their location. “We are going to help you okay.”

Marinette stayed quiet. When officers came, she kept quiet about herself. She only told them about her injuries but stayed quiet on the rest. If Jay was still out there, I don’t want him caught by child services.

She would have gone into child services had a couple not asked what was going to happen to her. She had noticed the couple often in the hospital but never reached out.

They ended up adopting her, unfortunately they were from Paris meaning she would have to leave the place she called home. On the flight over she would have cried leaving Gotham, but that only would have brought up questions about her past, so she fell asleep.

- - -

Five years she had been living in Paris, the city of lights, and she still missed Gotham. It’s shadows and perpetual darkness was her home. It was surprising when her class was interrupted by a villain but growing up in Gotham prepared her for that. What it didn’t prepare her for was the magical mini god named Plagg who was supposed to give her powers.

“So, can you explain this to me more.”

“Sure kid. Your powers are cataclysm, you destroy whatever you touch, but you have five minutes afterwards before you transform back. Your weapons are one ore two batons, that are extendable, but weapons depend on how comparable you are me.”

“Okay so what about that partner you mentioned?”

“They will most likely have the ladybug miraculous.”

“What does that miraculous do, as in powers wise?”

“They have lucky charm and cure, but…”

“But what Plagg?” She questioned needing to know what she was going into.

“Since this seems to be the butterfly, they also need to cleanse the butterfly.”

“Okay I think I’ve got all I need to know for now, you?”

“Hungry.”

“What do you like?”

“Cheese!”

“How do cheese danishes sound?”

“Acceptable.”

She let Plagg eat comfortably before transforming and heading out. Her partner was unbearable the moment she met him, then again that wasn’t too hard to accomplish seeing as he captured the two of them in his yo-yo string. Then during the battle, he used his lucky charm but didn’t know what to do with it. In the end she ended up taking it and defeating the akuma.

“We make a pretty good team together don’t you think?” He leaned towards her.

“Catch the butterfly.”

“What?”

“Catch the butterfly, Mister Bug!”

“Okay,” he sounded defeated and he did as he was told. Releasing a now white butterfly.

“Now cast your cure.”

“My what?”

“Did your kwamii not explain anything to you?” A sheepish smile spread across his features. “You have to be kidding me. Cast your cure by tossing your Lucky Charm but do it quick you don’t have much time left before you transform back, I’ll talk with the victim.”

“Who are you two? Are you new heroes? What are your names?” The new girl who sat next her earlier appeared spewing questions. As a swarm of ladybugs covered the scene.

“I’m Mister Bug, see you around partner.” He winked at her as he swung away.

“I’m Miss Mischief. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to check up on the victim.” She moved past the reporter and towards Ivan, she gave him a small pep talk and with his confidence up she left.

It took her almost a month to pluck up the courage to approach Nightrunner to train her.

“Excuse moi, Monsieur Nightrunner.” She had approached one night while they were both patrolling.

“You are one of the new heroes, Mischief, right?”

“Oui. Um I was wondering, wold you be willing to train me?”

“Merde how did you become a hero then?”

“Magic jewelry appeared in my room.”

“Do you know how it appeared?”

“Apparently there is a guardian, but I don’t know who they are.”

“Do you know who your partner is?” She shook her head in response. “Merde! Okay why don’t you run patrol with me, and we’ll figure something out from there.” She nodded and the two left to finish the patrol.

- - -

To say she was surprised that she still remembered some of the things and moves she learned from living off the streets of Gotham was a huge help.

But that Bug still annoyed her to no end, they had talked the night after the first akuma, and apparently the reason why he didn’t know anything was because he was so exited to be a hero that he didn’t let his kwamii explain anything. She gave him an earful after that. Unfortunately, the red annoyance got it in his head that the two of them were soulmates.

It came to a head when during the akuma Mr. Pigeon. Bug simply summoned a lucky charm handed it to her and walked out. Sure, she defeated the akuma without using her power, and sure the bug caught the akuma and purified it, but she was so done with this. She walked out holding the luIcky charm guiding Mr. Ramier out when he approached.

“Nice work Kitty Cat.” As usual reporters surrounded them, he held out his fist for a fist bump.

She simply crossed her arms, “Thanks for the help, Bug.” Sarcasm dripped from her words like venom.

“What’s with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” He responded.

“You left me alone to fight the Akuma on my own. Do you really expect me to sing your praises when you sat out here and did nothing?”

“But…” he thought for a moment before arriving at this sentence. “We are soulmates though don’t you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you bug, you are my partner, but that does not answer my question. The part that we are soulmates is irrelevant and incorrect. Just because our miraculous are two halves of a whole does not mean that I have to have romantic feelings towards you. I’ll see you later for patrol” she vaulted away leaving him to stew.

Luckily, they split for patrol and she shadowed Nightrunner, and after they trained outside of the city. Which helped calm her down a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha @animegirlweeb @jumpingjoy82 @thedragonbug @astoriaandroses @icerosecrystal @t1dwarrior-of-earth @moon5606 @zalladane

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #marinette todd #sibling jasonette #cat!marinette #nightrunner #maribatmarch2021 #miss mischief #miss mischief au

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lavender-scent · 3 years

Text

BBRae Week Day Five - Sunny Days

AO3 - FF.net

I Know My Heart Can Be So Cold, But I'm Sweet For You.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Jump City. The Titans agreed to seize the opportunity and go out since the city’s villains seemed to want to enjoy a day off as well.

Except for one person.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“You heard me Beast Boy,” she sighed, “I’d like to spend the day at home. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“But everyone is going!”

“And I’m not.” Raven gave him her back declaring the end of their discussion.

He wanted to try to convince her more but he heard his communicator vibrating. “Beast Boy, are you coming?”

He brought it closer to his mouth to speak, “On my way, Cy.”

It had been going like this for a while now: Raven constantly refusing every invite from the team and spending more and more time alone. Beast Boy and the others had tried to convince her to go out with them multiple times only to be rejected at every turn.

The whole team gave up eventually except for Beast Boy. It had taken her long enough to open up to them all, especially him, the first time and he didn't mind getting her to do it again even if it took a while.

Their friends believed it was just a phase but he didn’t want to risk it. He was not letting her shut herself in and isolate herself that easily.

“I’m going now but if you change your mind give me a call, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, still giving him her back.

He sighed but transformed into a hawk and flew through her window down to where his friends were waiting.

“What did friend Raven say?” Starfire asked once he got into the car.

“The usual. I want some quiet time by myself, blah blah blah. You should try it, Beast Boy, blah blah blah.” He tried his best impression of her with a frown.

“We’ll give her space. Maybe she’ll come around.” That was Robin’s answer every time.

'Next time there won’t be any “space”', Beast Boy thought to himself. He would get her out of that room. Not today, though. Raven really hated the sun and it was an exceptionally bright day out.

As they got to the park and started unpacking their stuff, Beast Boy realized he forgot something. “My umbrella! I forgot it at home.”

“B, for the last time, it’s not going to rain.”

“But the weather lady said there’s a 60% chance it would.”

“But the sun is bright and shiny today,” Starfire pointed out, “it does not seem that it will be the raining today, friend Beast Boy.”

“You know I hate the rain! Better safe than sorry.”

“What’s wrong, is the little kitty afraid to get wet?” Cyborg teased.

Beast Boy ignored him and transformed into a hawk for the second time. It would only take him a few minutes to grab his umbrella from the tower and be back. Once he got back to the tower he transformed back into his human form.

The tower smelled different than when he left it, felt different. Was Raven performing some sort of a spell? No, he knew when she was practicing spells. The scent always included herbs and old books. This scent smelled… sweet?

“Stop!” he heard a familiar voice.

Raven.

He ran to the source of the sound only to realize there was more than just her pleading voice. It made him run faster.

“Don’t touch her!” Beast Boy yelled when he reached Cyborg’s lab.

What Beast Boy saw was the furthest thing from what he expected. He had had all the worst scenarios prepared in his head, only to find Raven holding what looked like a five year old boy in one arm and a girl that seemed just a little bit older on the other.

“What the-“ before he got to finish his sentence he was cut off with screams.

“BEAST BOY!” the boy and the girl both jumped from Raven’s arms into Beast Boy's.

Beast Boy looked down at the two kids hugging his legs and back to his teammate. She looked like she was barely breathing.

“Raven, you brought Beast Boy!” the girl spoke first.

“It seems like I did.” She said nervously. She walked to Beast Boy and held his wrist, “Can I have a word?”

“Of course.” He followed her to the hallway leaving the two kids alone in the lab.

“What are you doing here?”

“I forgot my umbrella.”

“You do know that it’s not going to rain.”

“But the weather lady said-“

“Enough with the weather lady!” she threw her hands in the air in frustration. “Take your umbrella and just leave.”

“Okay, fine!” After a second thought, he asked, “Wait, who are those kids?”

“They’re my… cousins.” Raven said after she realized there was no way she could hide it any more.

It was obvious she didn’t want him there but he was still confused. Why did she hide that from the team?

“I didn’t know you had cousins?”

“I’ve reconnected with my aunt on Earth a few weeks ago. She had some work here in the city and I offered to take the kids for the day.” Raven answered hoping the investigation would be over soon. “Any more questions?”

��You have an aunt and you didn’t tell us?” Beast Boy paused. “Is that why you haven’t been spending as much time with us lately?”

“I.. I wanted-“ Raven was cut off by a loud noise.

They went back to the lab to find the boy climbing Cyborg computer set.

“James, get down! Raven is going to be mad at us!” his sister – Beast Boy assumed – tried to reach him using a chair but he was far above her.

“James, get down!” Raven ordered.

“I can’t!” James cried. “I don’t know how!”

Beast Boy decided to step in transforming into a moose, holding the little boy with one antler and putting him back down.

“That was awesome!” the boy yelled once the changeling went back to his human body. “Do it again!”

“Yes, Beast Boy do it again!” the girl joined.

“Erica, I believe Beast Boy has somewhere to be.” Raven gave him a glare.

“Right!” Beast Boy found himself forgetting about the picnic. The truth was he wanted to stay with Raven. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“Nope.”

Both Beast Boy and Raven tuned at the sound of something breaking.

“Sorry,” James said, putting back a remote that was now in half.

Raven sighed. “Why did I think bringing them here was a good idea.”

“We still haven’t seen the training room!” Erica reminded her.

“I…” Raven was trying to think of a way to get out of this seeing how James causing chaos in the lab just confirmed that he shouldn’t be anywhere near all those weapons. Before she got to say anything, Beast Boy spoke up. “Who wants to go to the fair?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Both kids held their hands up high.

Beast Boy turned to his teammate. “You think you can give us a ride?”

Raven was caught by surprise. “Uhm, yeah I think I can. But only once.”

She held the changeling's hand with one and Erica’s with the other asking her to hold her brother’s hand as well.

When they got to the fair the kids immediately let her hand go and ran to see all the games they could play.

“That was a close one,” Beast Boy chuckled.

Raven didn’t laugh. “What are you still doing here?”

“Helping you?”

“I didn’t ask for help. I have everything under control. You can leave.”

“Everything under control? Okay then, where are the kids right now?”

“They are right ther-“ Raven looked around to find neither of them within her sight.

“They’re by the big wheel. You’re welcome.”

“I knew that.”

“No you didn’t. Now can you let go of my hand so I can get them some tickets.”

Raven looked down to find that she was indeed still holding his hand. She removed her hand from his and hoped that the hood of her cloak was hiding her blush as he left to go get the tickets.

“Can we please get ice cream?” James asked, running to her.

“Sure.”

“And I want to get on the big wheel!”

“Whatever you want.”

“Is Beast Boy your boyfriend?”

“No,” she answered without thinking. “Wait, what?”

“I saw you guys holding hands,” explained the little boy.

“No, we’re just teammates.” Raven blushed. Why would the kids ask her such a question? Weren't they too young to know about this stuff?

“My friend Lily thinks you guys look great together,” Erica said after she joined them. “She has all these drawings of you.”

“Drawings? Of us?”

“Yeah, kissing.”

Raven tried to change the subject when she saw her teammate coming with the tickets. “Oh look! Beast Boy brought the tickets. Go stand in line for your turn.”

They ran to Beast Boy to get their tickets and went back waiting at the big wheel.

“At least now we don’t have to worry about them getting hurt or killed by Cy.” Beast Boy said cheerfully.

“Yeah, great," Raven replied harshly.

Beast Boy turned to look at her. “Are you mad at me?”

She ignored him.

Beast Boy knew she trying to push him away again. Too bad it wouldn’t work.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your aunt and cousins?”

“It’s stupid.”

“I like stupid.”

“You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.”

“Try me.”

Raven exhaled a long breath. She had a feeling Beast Boy wouldn't be giving up soon. He never knew when to stop.

“I didn’t tell you about my cousins because I didn’t want them to meet you.”

“Are you embarrassed by us??”

“No... the opposite.”

“You’re… proud of us?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I mean I am proud of you. I just didn’t want them to meet you because I know they would love you more.”

Beast Boy had never been more confused in his life. “People are usually happy by that.”

“I want them to love you. I just don’t want them to love you more than…. More than me.” Her insecurity finally broke through and she looked almost ashamed despite her defiance.

“Rae, I’m sure the kids love you. You’re an amazing person.”

“Yeah That’s how it felt before you came.” Raven knew she was being immature about this but she couldn’t help it. “I know I say I don’t care about fans but it’s always the same. Kids usually like you, guys like Cyborg, girls like Robin and boys like Starfire. No one likes me.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah right. How could I forget? Only creeps like the creep.”

Beast Boy gave her a sad look. He hated when she thought of herself that way. That was not who she was.

“Anyway,” Raven continued, “it felt nice to find my cousins and for them to see me as their favorite hero.”

She waited for him to tell her how childish and petty that was, how selfish she was to be hiding her whole family for the sake of being a kid’s favorite. But she heard none of that.

“Then I have to tell them about all the times you saved our asses.”

“What?” Raven gave him a confused look.

“Come on.” He took her hand and went to the kids as they just left the big wheel a little dizzy. “Who wants ice cream?” he asked.

Once they got their ice cream –strawberry for Beast Boy and Erica, chocolate for James and blueberry for Raven – Beast Boy proceeded to tell the kids every time Raven saved the team. He started to sound like a bigger fan than the kids were.

Every time he finished one the kids would turned amazed at Raven and ask to confirm Beast Boy’s story.

They seemed to forget all about the games they were first excited about. Her aunt called to check on them and agreed to pick them up at the fair later on.

Erica noticed a costumes tent that offered face painting as well and asked if they could get one.

“What costume do you want?” Raven asked.

“Yours! ” cheered Erica.

“Me too!” followed James.

Raven was shocked. She thought at least James would want to dress as the changeling or maybe Robin.

Both of them ran to the tent to look for costumes their sizes.

“I’m gonna go pay for them,” said Beast Boy as he walked after them.

She waited for them until they came out wearing blue cloaks and running around her. “Look Raven, now I’m Raven!”

She smiled at them and then looked up to see Beast Boy grinning at her.

They met her aunt not so long after. “I left one Raven only to come back to find two more!”

The kids ran to hug their mother. “We’re helping Raven save the city!”

“Hey, I’m Beast Boy.” The changeling offered his hand.

“Hi, I’m Selena, Raven’s aunt, ” Her aunt replied as she shook his hand. “Raven talks a lot about you!”

“Really?” Beast Boy glanced at Raven to find her face flushed.

“Aunt Selena, aren’t you late for your subway?” Raven reminded her.

“Right, right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for watching the kids! And it nice to meet you, Beast Boy.”

“Likewise.”

Beast Boy couldn’t miss the opportunity to tease her once her aunt left. “You told your aunt about me?”

“You’re a superhero. She already knows about you.”

“Yeah but it’s not the same as from you.”

She tried to stop herself from hitting him because of the stupid grin he was giving her but he was making it very hard.

Suddenly, Raven felt something funny on her nose. She touched it to find her nose a little wet. Then again on her cheek. She looked up to realize it was raining.

She expected Beast Boy to complain, or say he was right. Instead he said, “Want to go on the big wheel? I saved us tickets.”

“You don’t want to go home? It’s raining.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

The ride was quiet at first but then Raven spoke. “Thank you, for today. I admit, I wouldn’t have made it without you. It was... Fun.”

Beast Boy only smiled.

On their wedding night, during one of the many danced they shared as husband and wife, Beast Boy reminded her of the day they spent with her cousins who were now older but still as excited to see their older cousin married. "When we went to get the costumes they asked me to marry you and I promised them, I would.” Beast Boy told her.

“I guess we make great part-rents together.” He moved his hand closer to hers, gently squeezing it, hoping she wouldn’t take it away. She didn’t.

“So you’re saying you’re with me only because you promised my cousins you would marry me?”

She laughed at his attempt at mashing partners and parents together. Then with a thought to his second statement she replied softly, “I guess we do.”

Beast Boy leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead as they swayed to the soft music. “I always knew I’d be with you. After that day I only wanted you more.”

nb: if you liked this check my poolside fic for day 2

also my friend's fic for into the woods for day 3

(@bbraeweek21 )

#somehow maneged to make raven jealous inthis fic too #bbrae with kids has become my favorite thing #bbraeweek21 #fic #day5 #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction

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the-redeemed-anon · 3 years

Text

Quick thoughts on last night’s stream because oh boi

As the title says, it’s quick thoughts, it may not be everything of importance, or hell, just things I noticed, but that stream proves what I like to keep saying: Wilbur is one hell of a complex character, god damn.

1. Wilbur being as confusing as possible

Like, that happened, and it left a lot of people very confused, including Tommy at some points. This is a good time to remember that my guy was stuck in Limbo for 13 years with little to no stimuli and he seems to think a lot of time passed in the overworld too. He has to play catch-up and if Tommy’s ressurection is any hint, getting revived kinda leaves you with a bit of a scrambled mind, and add to that the fact that Wilbur was mentally ill when he died. I honestly don’t think Wilbur has made his mind up on some things, and he’s letting that slip up to the surface.

2. Wilbur and his vow of not lying

It may just be me, but when someone tells me they took a vow of not lying, I don’t believe them. Especially a character like Wilbur, man. And even if he say he’s not lying, that doesn’t mean what he is saying is the truthTM, as in, the objective truth, or that he doesn’t have mixed opinions. It’s literally what he thinks is true at that point, and opinions can change. And if he’s conflicted, he could say what he would want himself to fully believe, you know, in a case of “if I say it outloud maybe I’ll start fully believing it”. Basically, take what he says with a grain of salt, like anything any other character says.

3. Wilbur and his opinion on Dream

So, we know that Wilbur would have killed Dream for what he did to Tommy in Exile, yet Wilbur considers him a hero. That confused me too, until I remembered something very specific about Wilbur: Wilbur self-antagonises and he has a very meta way of looking at his existence.

So, he just told Tommy that his urge would’ve been to kill Dream slowly and painfully because of Exile. Considering what we know of Wilbur from his previous shot at life and how he was never someone who liked direct violence, being a long range weapon guy, saying that is huge and shows just how much he disagrees with what Dream did. Then he calls him a hero. In my mind, this rung some familiar bells: “Am I a villain, in this story?“And it echoed when he mentioned how Dream kept his throne warm.

Wilbur had a very meta way of looking at his own reality, which doesn’t seem weird at first, because we ourselves use words like “villain“, “hero“ and literary devices to talk about these characters... but that’s the thing. We use these words because they are characters. Very few people, in the real world, would use reasons such as Chekhov’s Gun to justify something they did, which is why it’s weird that Wilbur had a tendency to talk about literary devices and how he is a villain. It almost breaches the 4th wall, and it’s something that you can’t ignore once you’ve noticed this.

What does that make of Dream being the hero? Well, if someone wants to harm the hero, traditionally, they are the villain, aren’t they? So, indirectly, Wilbur seems to call himself a villain, which would go hand in hand with previous thoughts where he implied he knows he’s evil. It’s such a subtle way for him to cloak his self-loathing and self-hatred.

Also, Exile yet again is shown as something vile that happened to Tommy, and the severity of it is apparent by Wilbur’s decision that he would have killed Dream on the spot for it.

4. Wilbur and L’Manberg

Wilbur claiming he didn’t care about L’Manberg (the physicality of it) has be in doubt because right after, when he and Tommy talk about rebuilding the CH, Wilbur quietly says [“Oh, if only they could have done that for L'Manberg, ay?” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 40:45, 5th May)]

During the Season 2 Finale, he said something that has rubbed me as peculiar since I heard it: [”Oh! Let’s start L’Manberg, oh! How is L’Manberg, how is L’Manberg by the way?” - (Tubbo’s Getting The Disks Back: 1:40:30, 20th Jan)] It’s as if... As if he always expected L’Manberg to be rebuilt, no matter what he did. He seems to be conflicted in the present that L’Manberg is truly gone, or, at least for me it seems like that. Here he is, 13 years later, and yeah, it’s gone. A big part of his previous identity, left to die and rot. Wilbur had a habit of masking his true feelings and vulnerabilities, and I think L’Manberg is one of them. It’s an interesting discrepancy.

Also, there is this quote: [“Holy shit. Phil, this is amazing- Did you build this, Phil? … Phil, what the hell, why didn’t we have you during L'Manberg time?! This is brilliant!” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 46:12, 5th May)] which just shows that he did care about the physical place, at least from an aesthetic angle.

5. Wilbur and Friend

Let’s look at these quotes, this is from when Friend was still alive: [“Why? He’s gonna come with us. And? It’s a sheep, Tommy. Who cares about- No, I’m just saying who cares about a sheep, man, it’s just a sheep. Just, come. What, it’s just a sheep, my man. Just walk with the sheep.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 7:00, 5th May)] But then later, when going to Techno’s and Phil’s, he says this: [“Oh my god, I remember this! I remember this place, I have memories here! This where the sheep- Friend- This is where they found- where Ghostbur found Friend! I, I remember him finding him here!” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 45:44, 5th May)] and when Tommy tells him Friend’s dead, he says: [“I thought he had infinite canon lives.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 46:00, 5th May)]

You can’t tell me he didn’t care at least a bit about Friend. Why would he get excited over the memory where Ghostbur found Friend if he didn’t really care about him and he was just a sheep. As for him not caring about the possibility of Friend dying? Remember, he went to hell for 13 years, so that must have changed his perspective on the act of dying or even pain. Plus, my guy just admitted he thought Friend could respawn forever. I don’t think he took Tommy’s warnings as a “hey, Friend can die for good if you’re not careful“, and more like “Friend can get hurt and respawn if you’re not careful“.

6. Wilbur saying he won

[“Look at me. No matter what happens, no matter what goes down, today, tomorrow, next week, the week after, the week after next, the fact that I’m alive means that anything that happens along this line, I’ve won. I’ve already won. I won when I pressed that button. You could spar me as many times as you want for your own personal victories, but in the grand scheme of things I’ve already won. And I think, from your silence, you already know that.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 41:59, 5th May)]

All I am gonna say is that if you have to say you won something, chances are, you need to hear yourself to hear that. Also, it’s so interesting that we have a contrasting quote for this one:

[“History is written by the winners.” (Ghostbur)

“Yeah, and he, he technically won. I mean, he did what he wanted to.” (Ranboo)

“But then he lost and everyone hates him.” (Ghostbur) - (Ranboo’s Preparation: 13:55, 14th Mar)]

7. Misc., aka a quickie on Phil and Ranboo

Feels good to have confirmation about the letters having lies so Wilbur wouldn’t worry/disappoint Phil. No purposeful history revisionism or malicious lying in this house.

Ranboo and Wilbur, ah, I can already feel a good dynamic forming, because they are, right now, polar opposites. Ranboo is, in a way, what Wilbur thinks right now, to be weak. Yet Ranboo is thriving and he has a lot of allies. I really want to see them clash and challenge each other idiologically. That would be so interesting to see.

I think that’s about it, on what I could figure out from that stream. I’d like to hear other opinions or things anyone else noticed. (Also thanks to @kateis-cakeis for compiling all those quotes from last night. Check out his quote masterlist guys. It’s a goldmine for analysing Wilbur)

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis

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candreloup · 3 years

Note

I started to read your work and I absolutely love your writing! So I wanted send a request you could maybe do: A timid and shy hero is sent to fight a rather known cruel and flirty villain. But when the villain sees the hero is afraid of them the villain tries to be a bit more softer maybe even going so far as to comfort said hero who terrified of them.

Thank you so much! Also- HOLY MOLY MY OTHER POST BLEW UP AAA- um, thank you guys so, SO much for all the positive feedback and thank you so much to all the people who re-blogged my post! (I woke up and saw that shtuff and went AaaAAAA) Anyways, here's this ask! ('tis a good one :D)

Villain was sick and tired of waiting. If they were going to send someone to confront Villain, they should have just sent them. It made them angrier than they should have been. Maybe it was the fact that they couldn't have a life because of those so-called "heroes", or maybe it was just that Villain was so tired of being so one-dimensional. Of being whispered about, hated and scorned for something that they weren't. The creepy, sadistic villain sitting in their cold stone lair, waiting for the next victim to be sent in.

Villain was still a human. Not some monster to be taken down and killed, not some corrupt evil genius that only lived to harm- they were a human. But everyone seemed to lose sight of that fact.

A knock startled Villain out of their reverie. "What is it," Villain snapped, bracing themselves for the inevitable blustering "hero" bursting through the door, spouting nonsense about how they were going to take Villain down "once and for all". Instead, the door only creaked open a crack, and a timid voice called, "H-hello?"

Villain couldn't help but be surprised. After all, hadn't it been just yesterday that they had received a message telling them that they were "Finally getting what's coming to you" ? Hadn't they seen over and over the brand of person being sent to them, heard the countless rumors and criticisms being spread behind their backs? But this was different. The shy, quiet voice- albeit rather frightened- was new. Sent to take you down. Ha! Hero didn't seem like they could take down a rabbit. Of course, Villain had learned not to judge by the first impression. Who knew what they had hidden under their sleeves; who knew what could happen if they let their guard down. No, for now Villain would simply wait and watch, letting their instinct guide them.

"U-um, I think... I'm supposed t-to be here?" Hero stammered, still peeking through a tiny crack in the door. Villain sighed. Seems I'll have to be the initiator. Hero cracked open the door a touch more, making a small sound of surprise when they saw Villain striding towards them. "Uh, well- um- I d-don't know w-what I'm su-supposed to b-be doing here..." Villain didn't stop. Instead, they made the final steps to the door, forcing it open despite Hero's desperate attempts to keep it closed to reveal a small black-haired head and wide brown eyes, staring up at Villain in fear.

"Come in," Villain growled. Perhaps a tad too aggressive, as Hero shrunk back even further. "Come in," they said again, this time more gently. "I'm not going to hurt you." Hero looked up at Villain's face again, obviously trying to figure out if Villain was telling the truth.

God, they were so transparent it was almost a joke. Villain could almost see the gears turning in their head, see the thought process of "should I trust them?". "Well, don't just stand there," Villain said, getting frustrated with holding the door open. "Come in." When Hero still remained in place, Villain sighed in frustration and pulled Hero into the room. "I told you, I won't hurt you. Here, I'll leave the door open. There. Happy?" Hero's eyes darted nervously around the room, observing and finally landing on the open door. "No. You,"-Villain pointed at Hero- "There." Villain gestured to a couch. "Let's talk."

It was only after a few minutes of Villain talking and too much awkward silence that Hero finally spoke up.

"So... what are you here for? And don't say you don't know. I know you know why you're here. You can't fool me with your feeble attempts at lying."

"Well, I think... they told me to just, uh, come here? And um, well..." Hero glanced nervously at Villain, clearly afraid to finish their sentence. Villain just gestured at Hero to continue. Hero gulped nervously and finished, "They told me to try and kill you." The last words rang out in the empty room, echoing into silence.

"And what do you think?" Villain said softly.

"W-well, I think... maybe you're not such a bad person? And, I don't really know... why? I-I mean, I've heard lots of bad things about you... But, you don't, you know, seem... that bad...?" Hero trailed off, looking down at their feet.

Villain didn't know what to make of Hero. They were so strange, so... different. They came into Villain's lair like a frightened bunny, shaking and stammering and hiding behind doors. They were transparent, na��ve and innocent. How the hell did they end up working for the organization? And yet, the change was a welcome one. It felt good, to be finally recognized as something more than just a "villain". To be finally acknowledged as maybe a little more than just a 1d caricature of a person. It was refreshing. And made Villain feel too possessive than they were comfortable with.

"V-villain?"

Villain looked up at Hero again.

"U-um, sorry- you weren't... talking a lot... Did I say something wrong?" Hero looked concerned. Yet another surprise. Villain stared at them for a second before bursting into laughter. Loud, clear laughter that filled the room and lasted for much longer than it should have. "W-wait! Why- Why are you laughing? Villain?"

As Villain's laughter died down and they wiped away tears, still having small bursts of chuckling to themselves, they noticed Hero's clearly confused face. "Um... Why did you laugh? What was so funny?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing." Concern. What a joke. As if a hero coming from the organization could be concerned for the person they were going to kill. That they'd met literally a few minutes ago. The thought made Villain want to laugh again. But for some reason, looking at Hero, the concern felt genuine. They could almost believe that Hero was actually concerned. Almost.

Don't let your guard down, Villain. You never know.

"Villain?" Hero hesitantly raised their hand as if to try and touch something. Then put it down again. "Um, Villain?"

Villain was instantly on their guard, preparing for some sort of attack. "Yes?" they asked warily, waiting for Hero to completely change personality or whip out some sort of secret weapon. Instead, what Hero said caught Villain completely off-guard.

"Um, could I... touch your hair?"

"What?"

Hero went into overdrive explanation mode. "Uh, I know it's a really weird request but, I mean, I just thought- your hair looked- I mean, I think your hair looks really soft, and I just kind of- I mean, maybe I shouldn't have said that but-" Villain cut Hero off.

"Sure." Hero froze for a second. Villain couldn't help but laugh to themselves at Hero's dumbstruck look. I don't even know honestly if they can kill me, even if they tried. "You can touch my hair."

Hero reached out a hand hesitantly. "A-are you sure? I know it's a really weird question..." Villain grabbed Hero's wrist and pulled it towards their head.

"I told you, go ahead."

Hero reached out, softly patting Villain on the head. Villain had a thought as Hero started to touch their head with both hands. What the fuck am I doing? Am I a cat? But that thought left their mind as Hero started to move closer, playing with Villain's hair.

"It's so soft," Hero said, mesmerized. "Um... can I braid your hair?"

A few moments later Villain was lying in Hero's lap as they braided Villain's hair. How did I get here? Seriously... Oh well. Hero's gentle touch and their warmth made Villain drowsy, all suspicious thoughts driven out of their head. If they really wanted to try to kill me, they would have done it a long time ago. Anyways, it felt good, letting their guard down in front of someone. Even if they died here, it would be worth it. This little bit of peace felt heavenly, the soft sound of Hero humming sending Villain slowly to sleep. It was worth it.

The room was cold, full of the quiet sounds of technology working. In the screen in front of them they could see Villain's face, eyes slowly closing. "Who knew the mighty Villain could be taken down so easily by such a simple trap?" A voice echoed through the room, coming from the figure sitting in a chair in front of the large control panel taking up much of the space. Who knew indeed. All along, the only thing they had to do to completely take Villain off their guard was that fool of a Hero, so stupidly naïve and innocent. It was so easy it was almost laughable. Villain, lying in someone's lap and letting them braid their hair? Ha! And yet, a little bit of stammering later and they had exactly what they wanted. God, they were both so predictable. So easy to manipulate. So stupid.

#villain #hero #villain x hero #hero x villain #hero and villain #villain and hero #fluff #villain hero fluff #soft bois #organization #manipulation oooOoo #nO VILLAIN NO #likeable villain

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casualreader1234 · 3 years

Text

Reunion

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

An: Part two of the random story idea I had. I think I'm just going to keep the same summary each time because I'm too bad at writing them. I tried to make this gender-neutral, and I don't think I wrote anything that would imply a particular sex, but let me know.

Summary: What if you weren't the hero of the story? What if you were the villain meant to burn the world down?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Morally gray protagonist, violence

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1], [Part 2]

This gif is so funny to me.

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When you had first arrived in the U.S, you had been intrigued by tales of the infamous Black Widow, a former Russian assassin turned good, that was enough to catch anyone's attention. To satisfy your curiosity, you had tracked her down, wanting to see her for yourself. Watching her from afar, you understood why she was considered one of the best in her field: her movements always flowed into the next like she was performing a dance.

She easily disposed of her targets, strapping her weapons back onto herself. Seeing the completion of her job, you left the ledge of the building you had been standing of before she could see you. Slipping into the shadow, you had to admit that your interests had been piqued by the assassin.

///

You had always known that your girlfriend had been hiding secrets, but this one was far more exciting than you had thought. Never had it crossed your mind that Natasha might also be involve in the assassin industry. For such a planet, what were the chances of two assassins meeting and starting a relationship without either being the wiser. You weren't sure if that made her exceptionally good at her job, or you exceptionally bad at yours.

Asking around to some of your other contacts, you learned more about the KGB and the Red Room program that had trained Natasha, wanting a glimpse into her childhood. Disgust and rage filled you when you learned about the operation. They had hurt her, so you had made sure they all suffered for their crimes. Then, you returned back to America.

It was the reason you had stayed all these years. She was the reason. Though you've known where she's been all this time, you never revealed yourself. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of shame.

It hadn't surprised you that Natasha decided to work for SHIELD. You've also known that she had a good heart, but it did make things more complicated.

She was one of the good guys now. If she ever crossed paths with you, she would be forced to face you as an enemy. So, for both of your sakes, you avoided doing things that would get SHIELD attention, carefully selecting jobs that would run under the radar. You had been careful, erasing most of your tracks, yet here you were, chained down to a table in a SHIELD facility.

Natalia-no-Natasha stared down at you. You unconsciously cringed under her intense gaze.

" How are you darling?" You asked, breaking the thick silence and giving her a small smile. "I must say, you look as stunning as always. Did you do something to your hair? It seems to be shorter."

Natasha didn't reply, instead shaking her head angrily. " What the hell, (Y/n). What are you doing in the U.S?"

Her harsh tone almost made you flinch. “ Here to visit my beautiful girlfriend? I've really missed you.” You tried, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Natasha may not have any powers but damn was this woman scary when she was mad. Flattery wasn't going to work on Nat though, her face stone cold as she looked down at you.

"That doesn't answer the question, milyy (darling)." She replied with a strained smile.

Tony watched the exchange with a slack jaw, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of his sockets from shock. “ I’m sorry? You know this criminal Nat?”

Your head snapped to the man, jaw clenching. “ Nat?" You sputtered at the intimate nickname. "Who gave you permission to call her Nat?” You swiveled back to look at Natasha. “What is your relationship with him?” You asked accusingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Tony. “ Don’t call me Nat, Stark. And this idiot here is (Y/N).”

"Yeah, her [girlfriend/boyfriend] ! " You added helpfully.

The look Natasha gave you was deadly enough to silence you again. She turned her attention back to Tony, " Do you want to fill me on what's happening Stark? I return from a mission and hear from Steve that we had caught a mutant, but I wasn't even aware that we were after one." You frowned at the fact that had she referred to you as a mutant, but chose to ignore it.

Tony shrugged, acting like a bratty overgrown child," No, I don't want to." Natasha's jaw clenched and you decided to lend a helping hand.

Tendrils of black suddenly snaked around Tony, pining him hard against the wall behind him. His eyes widened, shooting to the origin of the magic, seeing you now unbounded and smiling widely at him, the handcuff hanging loosely off the table. Standing up, you rubbed at the red marks on your wrist left by the binds.

"Better answer her, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." You threatened, eyes turning pure black for a split second.

Tony desperately looked at Natasha for help, but she stayed steadfast, unmoved and patiently waiting for him to answer. Realizing that no help was coming, he relented. "Fury got tipped off about some assassin that had been piling up bodies all across the U.S and North America. At first we dismissed them as the work of sporadic killers, not linking the deaths together until we got another tip about them being a mutant. We had Wanda examine a few of the bodies and she confirmed that magic was the cause of death. Since then, we've had our eye set on a contracted killer who went by the alias Reaper. A few weeks ago, we got a hit on their last location, and from there, we planned our trap."

Realization dawned onto you, " You put a bounty over yourself!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, thoroughly impressed by their commitment. It was a good plan, one that you hadn't even considered. Of course, if it had been any other week, the plan would've failed.

Every time you used magic, there was a backlash. The magic was deep inside you, a part of your very being, but it didn't stay that way willingly. The black flames were a dark and ancient form of magic, one that could only be wielded by a select few. Long ago, many groups had tried to master the arts, but most failed. The magic was powerful, more than anyone really knew, and only grew more so as it consumed more energy. Magicians didn't as much wield the magic, as they did subjugate it.

Candidates trained for years in preparation for the infusion, getting their body ready to handle massive amount of energy. When they were deemed ready, they would be exposed to a pure form of the magic. The flames would consume them and their screams could be heard for miles. Most people who entered the last trial end up dead, completely consumed by the magic. A few though, came out stronger. Instead of being consumed by the flames, they had somehow consumed the flames, magic now flowing through their veins.

Even then, the magic inside of wielders fought against their vessels, constantly trying to escape. The ring you wore helped you control the magic inside, absorbing some of the power and trapping the rest of the flames within you, where it couldn't escape and grow any stronger. But every time you took off the ring, you unintentionally let the magic grow, and when it finally returns back to you, the fight inside gets a little tougher.

Normally, it didn't affect you much. You had been trained since childhood to control the magic, so you could go hours with continuous magic use without any major repercussion. But the past month, you had really tested your bounds, toeing the limits of your control. This inevitably degraded your mental state, leaving your mind a little hazy. This meant you were a lot more impulsive and less observant, something that played in favor to SHIELD's trap. You knew you shouldn't have taken the hit on Tony, especially due to your exhaustion, but you had let your excitement of possibly seeing Natasha blind you. Nevertheless, the current situation didn't really worry you anyways, although you made a note to deal with a problem later.

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" Natasha pressed on.

"Don't take it personally. You're area of skills weren't required for the job, so you weren't informed. Simple as that." Tony plainly stated, clearly sensing the Russian's agitation.

You had to stifle your laughter at the irony. If Natasha had been assigned to the case earlier, you probably would've been captured much sooner.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, obviously deep in thought as well. " Release him, (Y/N)." She finally said and you happily obliged, but not sliding you ring back on, letting the flames surround you in a hazy aura incase you needed to react to any threats. Tony let out of breathe of relief as your magic retreated, but you could see that he was still a bit shaken up, the effects not fully wearing off.

"Hey are you alright darling?" You asked concernedly, ignoring the wobbling man when you caught Natasha looking a little pale. Walking over to where she was, you reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek, the flames retreating as it reached her. You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how she would react, but Natasha leaned into your touch. Her eyes met yours. It was the same bright green that you dreamt about, and they looked even more dazzling up close. She smiled up at you and it was like all the years you've spent apart hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She whispered reassuringly and you smiled too in relief. “ What does Fury want with the (Y/N)?” She asked Tony, but her eyes didn't leave you.

“ The same thing we do to all threats. We either eliminate or imprison them .” He answered, voice indifferent.

Natasha turned to him, much to your dismay, “Why can’t we accept them into SHIELD?” she offered instead.

Tony, who had thought your weird relationship with Natasha was the strangest thing that could happen, couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want to let an assassin into our ranks? Are you crazy?! Did you already get your hands on the vodka shelf?” He stammered.

Natasha gave him a dark look, one that sent a chill of excitement down your spine, “I was an assassin too Tony.”

Tony didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need to. The door to the room swung opened again, this time a larger blonde man marching in. You recognized him from your intel: Steve Rogers-Captain America. Behind him, you saw several heavily armed agents behind him, their guns trained on you.

Natasha whipped around at the sudden intrusion, surprise flashing across her face. " Steve." She said warningly, noticing the same things you did, but Steve didn't let her finish, already throwing out his shield in attack. The metal was launched at you, cutting through the air faster than the eyes could follow.

You easily caught it, magic stopping it mid-flight.

You sighed at his pathetic attempt, " Mr. Rogers, don't you know it's rude to interrupt? You can't just come in here, guns blazing, and shield flying." You reprimanded, lazily throwing the shield back to the man. Steve tried to catch the shield, but was knocked back by the sheer force of your throw. The men immediately behind him stumbled back in shock as the 6'1 super solider crashed into them. Those who were left standing quickly recovered and upon realizing that their first line of attack had been beaten, prepared to shoot. They found themselves unable to. Fear had crept up on them during the ruckus and now they were unable to move as your magic seeped through them. With a simple wave of your hand, the black flames around you attacked and within seconds, all the agents, including Cap, dropped to the floor.

"What?" Tony gasped in horror, and for the first time, he seemed to truly understand the extent of your power.

"Relax, they're not dead. I just knocked them out for-" You pretended to check your wrist for a watch, " -a while. I don't know, I usually don't wait around for the people I knock out to wake back up."

Natasha was staring in shock at the pile of bodies by the door and you saw something indistinguishable in her eyes. A distinct chime echoed off the walls of the room, drawing your attention to your phone in the corner. You walked over to it, Tony looking like he wanted to stop you but was too terrified to. Picking it up, you read the message silently. Shouting could be heard getting louder, footsteps pounding towards you as alarms blared.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave." You announced to Natasha and Tony. " Sorry to cut our reunion short Talia."

Natasha stepped forward, blinking out of her shock. "(Y/N) wait-!" She began.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be staying a little bit longer in New York. We'll see each other soon my love." You promised, picking up one of the fallen agent's guns and shooting out the lights until you were enveloped in pitch darkness. Then, before the backup agents could arrive, you melted away into the shadows.

///

You emerged from a dark alleyway in some shifty part of the Bronx. Pulling out your phone, you replied to Matt, your associate, declining the new job he had sent over, informing him that you would be taking a vacation for a while.

Seeing Natasha had reminded you of how much you actually missed her, and you didn't want to just leave New York yet, not when you barely had the chance to catch up with your lover.

But first, you had a snitch to catch. Someone had tipped off SHIELD about you. Someone who knew you about your power at that. You couldn't let someone so dangerous live.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Powers of Reader [Will be updated as more information is learned about Reader]

-Ability to set fear in opponents

-Ability to melt into shadows (teleportation like: goes into one shadow, pops up somewhere else)

-Magic flames that kill people(?) and knocks them out(?)

-Major simp for Natasha (special skill)

#natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfic series

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