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kaiwewi · 1 year

Text

A Room for Two

Secret Santa gift for @save-the-villainous-cat 🎅💝 I hope this will do your prompt justice!! Bit longer than originally planned, because I got carried away xD

“Get some sleep,” the villain had said.

Like slumber wasn’t some near unattainable, elusive enigma on the best of nights. Like the hero wouldn’t find themself tossing and turning for hours, haunted, even when their sorrows and worries were unfounded.

If they already couldn’t sleep under normal circumstances, how were they supposed to find any rest when they, for once, actually had good reasons to be upset and anxious?

Reasons. Plural.

As if being abducted by Supervillain wasn’t nerve-wracking enough by itself. To add insult to injury, she’d dragged them right off their living room couch, hauled them halfway across the city while offering only the most cryptic of half-explanations for her actions, and then presented them to the villain as a ‘Christmas gift’.

This had to be the most humiliating and terrifying thing that had ever happened to the hero, and all their nemesis had to say to them was to 'get some sleep'.

What were they supposed to do? Let go of their fury and frustration and climb into bed with the villain, pretending the two of them were good friends having a fun sleepover and not enemies sharing a damn prison cell?

Yeah, fat chance.

Besides, the hero hated sleepovers. Sleepovers always ended in darkness and isolation, with the hero lying awake in the early morning hours, forced to listen to their friends’ even breathing ringing through their own sleepless silence like taunts.

But it hardly mattered. They didn’t plan on sticking around anyway.

They stomped through the half-lit room again and tried the door one more time for good measure. Still locked. Of course it was. They muttered a few curses. All right, the window then. Maybe they had missed something. Maybe they could—

“Hero, please.” The villain groaned, face half-buried in a heap of cushions. “Stop pacing round the room like a caged tiger. I’m trying to sleep.”

They were not pacing. Pacing implied aimlessness. They had a purpose. While the villain had plopped down on the stupidly soft-looking, king-sized bed, fluffed their pillows, and turned off their bedside lamp, the hero had been scanning the room, attempting to form an escape plan.

“I’m trying to find a way out,” they hissed. “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, we are trapped. This is a cage.”

“Actually, it’s a suite. Supervillain’s nicest guest-room even.”

“Right. A guest-room with a locked door and barred windows.” The hero scoffed. “What does that make you? Supervillain’s most esteemed guest?”

“It’s a temporary arrangement,” the villain said crossly. “If you must know, Supervillain and I had a disagreement about … work-related issues. I'm only here so I won't get in the way of her plans. Once she’s finalized her current project, she’ll let me go.”

The hero glared into the night beyond the open window and trailed their fingers along the gold-plated ornaments of the, sadly, perfectly solid metal bars. “You’re an idiot,” they said, “if you think a cosy bed, expensive wallpaper, and a fluffy carpet make this any less of a cage.”

“You forgot to mention the flat-screen TV and the gaming console.”

The hero turned their glower on the villain, who sighed.

“Fine,” their nemesis said. “Let it be a cage then. A gilded cage with excellent room service. Which is a million times better than the alternative. So, I’d very much appreciate it if you would kindly behave yourself, be patient, and not get us relocated to the dungeon. Thank you.” The villain rolled their eyes. “Come on. It’s late and I’m tired. If you aren’t going to sleep, can you at least lie down? Please.”

The villain really did sound tired. Despondent almost. It didn’t suit them. Not that the villain’s pitiful state changed anything.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend I’m the one being unreasonable. You don’t get to act like my presence here is such an inconvenience to you after you asked Supervillain to kidnap me.”

“You think I wanted her to—” To their credit, the villain seemed genuinely appalled at the notion. “I’d never—”

“Funny.” They spit the word like a threat and felt somewhat gratified when the villain subtly shuffled a bit closer to the headboard with every step the hero took towards the bed. “Because when I asked Supervillain why she’d taken me, she told me, and I quote, ‘Villain wants company’.”

Their nemesis cringed. They averted their gaze and wrapped the covers protectively around themself in a rare display of … remorse? Fear? Vulnerability?

Yep. Something was definitely off about the villain today.

Curious, the hero sat down on the empty side of the bed after all and leaned back against the pillows. Dammit, the stupid things were even cosier than they looked.

“I’m sorry,” the villain said softly. “When I said I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas, I thought Supervillain would send a henchman to play boardgames with me or – I don’t know – get me a cat? I never thought she’d go and kidnap my favourite frenemy.”

Why did the villain have to sound like they were about to cry?

Great. Now the hero was beginning to feel guilty too.

A bit reluctant, they reached across the empty space between the two of them and awkwardly put their hand on the villain’s shoulder.

Their nemesis sucked in a sharp breath, but otherwise made no protest.

“Villain,” the hero said after a moment of tense silence. “How long have you been here?”

“Five weeks,” the villain replied in too matter-of-fact a tone, “two days, and roughly” – there was a bit of shuffling as they turned to throw a glance at the alarm clock on their bedside table – “seven hours now.”

The hero didn’t know what to say to that. They pulled their hand back.

Neither of them spoke for a minute or two.

“So…” the hero said eventually. “I’m your favourite?”

The villain tsked, though not without humour. “Honestly? I would have preferred the cat.”

More silence.

The hero stared at the ceiling. They were beginning to think the villain might have fallen asleep already, when they felt a soft tug on the sleeve of their t-shirt.

“Hey, Hero?” the villain whispered. “Could you touch me again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Not- Not in a weird way! Just, maybe, a hug? … I really miss my friends and family,” the villain added, as if that was explanation enough. Perhaps it was.

The hero sighed, grumbled incoherently, then sighed again. It wasn’t like they’d get any sleep either way. “Okay,” they said. “But if you do anything funny, I’ll smack you.”

The villain chuckled. The mattress dipped as they scooted over and wrapped their arms around the hero with a tentativeness that, given the two of them were technically enemies, bordered on sacrilege.

“Thank you,” the villain murmured, dozing off right then and there. “I was so lonely.”

The hero couldn’t bring themself to push the villain away after that, even if it meant they’d likely remain in this position until the villain woke up again. They closed their eyes, resigned themself to another long night, and let their thoughts drift into reverie.

When the hero blinked their eyes open again, they were met with the disorienting sight of daylight, ruffled sheets, and their bed-headed nemesis still curled up in their arms.

Wow. They’d slept. – Kidnapped, locked up, and cuddling with their enemy, the hero had finally managed to have a good night's sleep. After weeks of restlessness and insomnia in the safety of their own bedroom. What irony…

They lifted their head to get a better look at the small smile on the villain’s sleeping face.

Maybe the hero would delay their escape attempts, stick around for a few nights. They could really use a vacation. And hadn’t the villain said something about excellent room service?

#Secret Santa #Secret Santa snippets #save-the-villainous-cat #heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #hero/villain #enemies to friends #one bed trope #insomnia #snippet #writing snippet #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #writeblr #writers #writers on Tumblr

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solcattus · 2 months

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Venus and Amor floating in the sky near deer

Print by Jean Augustin Daiwaille after a drawing by David Humbert de Superville

#art #painting #fine art #classical art #dutch art #dutch painter #dutch artist #drawing #etching #mythology #mythological art #roman mythology #european mythology #european art #18th century art #19th century art #print #beauty

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chaotic-orphan · 1 year

Note

Villain was a lesser villain, often doing small jobs for bigger villains. He generally stays out of the spotlight, only participating to make ends meet. He goes mostly ignored up until he makes the mistake of acquainting himself with Supervillain. She takes an interest in him, drawing the attention of the heroes. When they find out about her big plan, they kidnap Villain and torture Villain for information he may or may not have. Their primary method is by forcing him to puke. His power is saliva-based acid generation.

Weirdest ask I have ever had, thank you. Enjoy!

Villain was asleep.

This was a good thing and a bad thing.

A good thing because finally the Heroes left him alone enough for him to be able to sleep properly, soundly, dreamlessly.

A bad thing because Darwin had just walked into his cell and was about to disturb his sweet, dreamless slumber to drag him back awake and onto the endless torture he is currently enduring under the Heroes care.

This time it was a bucket of ice water that was thrown in Villain’s face to wake him. Which, in hindsight, was quite tame of them. The Heroes must be getting soft on him.

He still gasped awake like he was a fish out of water and threw his body forwards in shock, only to have the leather restraints on his wrists and legs drag him back to the chair he was currently in.

“GOOD MORNING, VILLAIN!” Darwin bellowed, all teeth and smirking lips as he threw the bucket to the wall. “How are we doing today friend?”

“You’re such a fucking douchebag.”

“Ahhh!! Chipper as ever!” Darwin said, going to stand around the back of the chair. Villain was ready for the chair transitioning into a panel and sliding forwards slightly. “I’m here, of course, to talk about your friend, Supervillain. Tell me— why is currently burning half of the city alive?”

Villain’s eyes narrowed. Supervillain wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t. She cared about people in the city. She wouldn’t hurt people.

“She’s not,” said Villain matter-of-factly, and Darwin grinned as he came to stand in front of Villain again.

“Aha!! I just cannot seem to fool you, Villain. I guess that is what endeared Supervillain to you in the first place, is it not?”

“It is not! I’m not friends with supervil—“ but Villain didn’t get to finish his sentence before Darwin’s fingers were down his throat, tickling his gag reflex and Villain could feel the acid climb his throat and Darwin gave a little laugh as he took his hand out, now made of gleaming titanium, and watched as Villain’s vomit joined the puddle from yesterday. Bubbling and frothing and green and vile.

Villain spit after it, the taste of Darwin’s sweaty hand making him want to vomit again. “Once, man. Just once would it kill you to wash your fucking hands?”

“I see! You want stick now, jah?” And Villain went pale.

“No. No, no no I don’t want the stick. Your hand is fine. I love the taste of the sweat and dirt and grim. Darwin? Darwin! DARWIN DON’T GET THE STICK PLEASE!”

“Well!! You must be want to tell me about your Supervillain friend now, hmm? Or perhaps… lover?” Darwin asked his eyebrows drawing up suggestively, pulling up a chair just before the vomit puddle between them.

“Okay,” Villain cried defeated. “Okay. I— I met Supervillain when I was doing a job. It was just a simple job, one of the best for Vulcan.”

“Ah yes. Fire breathing villain?”

“Jah,” said Villain, then said quickly: “yeah, I mean yeah. He employs me sometimes when he needs um, well, acid to burn through bank locks. I’m not proud of it, but it pays the rent okay? It’s an easy job too, he just wants me to vomit into tubes that he can throw and it’s like an acid bomb, right?”

“Right, jah. I follow. Continue.”

“So I was doing another job for him, it’s easy I can do it from home. Except he didn’t come to pick up the ship it was Supervillain who showed up at my door and she was very…”

Darwin tilted his head, nodding as he said: “sexy?”

“No!” Villain said quickly, then he coughed and said: “I mean like, she is very attractive—“

“I know this. That alone should be a crime!” Darwin cried and it almost looked like he was going to actually cry. Villain just cocked a brow.

“Uh, yeah. So anyways. She was very invasive, is what I meant to say. Wanted to know more about my power. Told me Vulcan did some jobs for her but he was messing her around with payments and stuff, so she wanted to get the acid bombs straight from me.”

“I see…” Darwin nodded. “So, she recruited you then?”

“No. Employed. Distantly! I promise. That’s all I do! I make the acid bombs, and then she gets someone to pick them up and that’s it!”

Darwin’s eyes narrowed. “I feel there is more to this story. You don’t tell me I get the stick.”

“Okay! Okay!” Villain said, licking his lips and clearing his throat. “So she came to me one night and she said she wanted to get a drop on the heroes and the Hero tower. So she asked me to help her.”

“Make more acid bombs?” Darwin asked and Villain nodded.

“Yeah kind of. Only her plan was far more ambitious than that.”

“Okay. Good. You tell Darwin and I will cut you down.”

“Well, she knew you were going to find me and torture me for information on here—“

Darwin let out a booming laugh. “Of course! Does her intelligence know no bounds? Oh what a criminal mastermind!”

Villain blinked. “Uh-huh. Anyways, she said since this was gonna happen anyways that I should allow myself to get caught and be tortured for a day or two until I created enough acid to create a hole big enough for her and her friends to crawl through and invade the Hero tower without raising the alarm.”

Darwin stood with such force his chair was forced back. “You what?” he asked, shocked but Villain was already vomiting, this time with his actual acid. The hole formed in the floor and there was Supervillain below in the sewer tunnels climbing out, somehow still looking immaculate like she was just off the red carpet.

Darwin’s eyes went wide. “S-s-supervillain,” Darwin said, his tan face gone pale and Supervillain grinned at him, strutting over and looking down at him.

“Darwin, my sweet Hero. Have you been torturing my Good Samaritan over here for information on me?”

Darwin nodded sadly. “Yes…”

“Oh dear. You could have just rang me.”

“But that is not professional! I can’t mix work and pleasure, you know this. Company policy.”

Supervillain frowned, her hand on his throat. “Pity.”

Villain heard the resounding crack, and flinched as she threw Darwin down the hole into the sewers. Then she turned to face Villain.

“You have done your job beautifully, darling. Now let me take it from here.”

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loraxprince · 2 months

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TW: Blood + Gore

More of Will Wood Onceler but it’s future him

Cropped

Uncropped version

Little thing I did with the artwork is where his smile stays there no matter what in the canvas I drew it in

The stupid reference LMAO

Have a good day/night!! :DD

#the lorax #the onceler #alternative universe #superjail #au #the onceler 1972 #the lorax 1972 #superville #72ville

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promptspa · 2 years

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YOU CANT JUST LEAVE US ON THST CLIFFHANGER, could I request a continuation on prompt 88?

Request #9 - part 1 - part 2 TW: implied murder, fighting, scars, near-death experience, wounds

Villain stumbled backwards, listening to the clumsy battering on the window. This was bad, this was very bad. This wasn't supposed to happen!

Hero was supposed to stay out of it and stay safe. They were supposed to move on with their life and never, ever try to go after their suddenly disappeared lover, not try to break into an apartment to save them! Even through the spiraled cracks, Villain could still make out the nasty scar that went across Hero's face, just an inch or so below their eyes. That had happened the last time they tried to protect the criminal, yet they came back again.

The door opened fully once more and Supervillain rushed in, freezing momentarily at the sight they found. Their gaze swept from the spilt coffee and stunned Villain to the hero still slamming their fists into the glass in an attempt to break through it - and all hell broke loose.

Supervillain's eyes turned furious, a terrifying fire lighting in the pools of their eyes. They dropped their bag from their shoulder and dashed forward, slamming their shoulder into the window. Villain startled backwards even more, blocking their face with an arm as they listened to the unpleasant noise of glass clattering across the floor.

Villain moved their arm away slowly as the sound cleared, watching in shocked silence as Supervillain launched themself into the air and tackled Hero. The two rivals began battling once again, throwing nasty blows and playing with fire in the air.

They stood frozen, unsure of what to do. They couldn't fly like the other two and they couldn't just run out the door while Supervillain's distracted and leave hero... Villain's hand moved on it's own, searching clumsily along the counter as they kept their eyes on the fight outside. With a strong grip, they grabbed the handle of a butcher knife in the knife block.

When Supervillain gave an incredibly strong and powered kick to Hero's middle, they were sent flying into the apartment, slamming into the wall opposite the now broken window head-first with a breathless noise. Gashes and bruises littered their face, and blood painted their knuckles. Their breath was turning heaved as they pressed a hand to their head, the same red coat on their fingers now on their palm. Villain barely batted a glance at the blood splatter on the wall before they rushed over, kneeling beside their lover with a worried hum.

Hero leaned into the familiar touch as Villain cupped their face, knife now abandoned beside them. They were smiling softly now, peering up at them with such a loving gaze despite how hard it was becoming to breath and the fuzzy feeling in the back of their skull. Villain hushed them softly as they opened their mouth to speak, tracing their thumbs lovingly over their scar and being careful of the other bruising and wounds.

"Villain, come here, sweetheart." Supervillain's tone was back to a terrifying gentleness, no healthy love in their petname. They waited near the frame of the window, unbothered by the broken glass beneath their boots. "Now."

The lower villain stiffened their shoulders, watching as Hero's eyes slipped shut and a fluttering sigh left their mouth, head falling limply in their hands. Slowly, Villain took their hands away from the hero's face, instead grabbing the knife beside them once more. Hero needed to stay alive, but Villain doubted the master criminal would give up on killing them after this.

Hero was not going to die if Villain had anything to say about it. They were done with Supervillain.

They relaxed their white-knuckle grip on the knife as they stood up, taking a steady breath to calm themself. They turned, moving to hide their hand behind their back as they slowly moved forward and into Supervillain's waiting arms.

Villain steadied their hands as they hooked their chin over Supervillain's shoulder, listening with a hidden anger as they spoke.

"There's my sweet Villain. I knew you would realize our relationship is so much more important than that stupid hero."

If only that were true.

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world-of-fire-and-flight · 2 years

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Love Letters: Finale?

A/N: I’ve loved writing this series and am already planning a spinoff or something because there’re still some things I’d like to explore with these characters. Idk when this is happening, because I have a few prompts lined up, but it’s happening 😊 Also just a head’s up that this is about 3.8k words. Happy reading! Huge thank you to @selene-stories for the amazing prompt that kicked this series off and all of your amazing commentary throughout the series💜

Warnings: Implied torture/past torture, blood reference/blood mention, confusion, healing, injuries, past restraints/reference to having been restrained, implied medical scenario, scars, deserved mental breakdown, angst, some fluff

(This is not a prompt)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Hero inhaled deeply. Their lungs nearly burst from the full breath. Lashes fluttering under their eyes, Hero was almost reluctant to open them, but knew the action was inevitable. They didn’t want to deny themselves the illusion of warmth and comfort of the bed that surely didn’t exist beneath them in place of the cold, damp basement floor and the rough ropes binding their wrists and ankles. Instead, they slipped further into that dream and burrowed deeper into the soft darkness of their subconscious. In the fraying moment between vague wakefulness and unconsciousness, Hero swore their cheek nestled into a cushy pillow that simply couldn’t exist. Somehow, it felt more like a reality to them than the absent chill of the basement that should’ve plagued them.

A sigh escaped Hero’s slightly parted lips. Slowly blinking their eyes open, Hero’s hands curled limply against—Hero’s brows furrowed. Mind swimming, they turned their head to the side and took in the dim room and the nightstand that met their gaze. Like a flood, their memories rushed to the forefront of their mind.

Other Supervillain had saved them. Other Supervil—Politician had saved them and had apparently killed Supervillain and Superhero…

“Dead, probably.”

What was Superhero’s fate? Were they confirmed alive or dead? Which did Other Supervillain prefer? Which did Hero prefer?

Uncertain and afraid of the answer poking around the edges of their mind, Hero curled up on their side and drew the blankets tighter around themselves, nearly burying themselves in the warm comfort of alleged safety. Other Super—Politician had promised not to hurt them, and waking up in a cloud of blankets and pillows surely indicated the truth in that declaration. Soothed for a time, Hero couldn’t fight the heavy closing of their eyes.

The next time Hero peeled their eyes open, golden sunlight peeked through the miniscule part in the heavy curtains of the bedroom Politician had left them in. They couldn’t note any changes in the room, if Politician or someone had checked in on them or if they’d been left to their unconscious state in blissful solitude this whole time. Some part of Hero argued that they could stay here forever, unbothered and unburdened, but the stronger part of Hero knew that they should get up and see just what their circumstances were.

Groaning, Hero forced themselves onto their elbows and fought to sit up against the headboard. Panting heavily, Hero laid a gentle hand on their abdomen. Their eyes widened. Bringing their frail hand to their face, Hero’s eyes narrowed and examined the dry skin of their wrist, and even their nails for any sign of the blood—their blood—that had spilled.

Not even a scratch remained on their skin. By all means, there was no sign of the rope burn or how the rope had peeled and shredded their skin until Hero had believed there was nothing left but bone to scrape at with every shift of their bonds.

Sagging against the headboard with a twist of their lips, Hero studied their limp hands. They wondered, briefly, what had been real and what they’d imagined. Their broken—or were they only bruised?—ribs were real, a fact echoed by the pull of pain in their torso whenever they moved.

Bringing their hands up, Hero went to scrub at their face, but where they thought they’d feel their own skin was only cloth.

Not just any cloth, though, Hero realized with a quick breath. The cloth was strong, nearly solid, the type of cloth used in supersuits. With trembling hands, Hero gently took the cloth from their face and turned the revealed mask over in their hands.

Why had Other Supervillain put their mask on them?

Admittedly, Hero appreciated that the master criminal had put them in something…less blood-soaked and grimy, but why had they given them their mask?

Hesitantly, Hero moved the blankets down the bed and exposed their lower half. The bruises and lacerations they expected to see were gone—if they’d even existed. The most evidence of their predicament lay in healed scars and reddened knees from being forced to kneel for so long. Aside from that, there were no serious injuries. There was only the memory, or the nightmare, of them.

Their lips twisted as they willed their leaden limbs into motion. Their bare toes awkwardly brushed the plush carpet as if they’d forgotten what it was to bear any weight—and Hero hadn’t even stood up from the bed yet. They didn’t know if such a feat was even possible.

Were their injuries truly that bad that they could only be partially healed? Or had more time passed than they’d initially believed upon waking?

Hero’s hands clenched into fists by their sides, the fabric mask crumpling in their fragile grasp. With one last deep breath, Hero hauled themselves to their feet. Their limbs bowed and Hero curled inward, nearly hunched over with drooping shoulders. Too weak to bear the weight of their body, they leaned against the nightstand to steady themselves. Settling a light hand against their stomach, Hero took a hesitant step forward in the hopes that their limbs would remember how to walk.

By the time they’d made it to the bedroom door, a few beads of sweat dotted their brow. Their breaths came in heavy puffs. It took a few embarrassing tries to get a handle on the doorknob and twist it as their eyes dotted with stars. But Hero managed to get the door open and lean against its frame as if they’d collapse.

Squinting out into the hallway, Hero glanced up and down its length in search of a sign—any sign with any meaning. But the hallway was empty except for the light and a long decorative carpet runner that covered its length.

Hero sighed, exasperated by the choice that lay before them. Was anybody here? Was Politician here?

Glancing down at the mask in their free hand, Hero wondered many things. What had they done to Supervillain? To Superhero? How could they be certain that Supervillain was dead but hesitant to declare the same fate of Superhero?

Hero’s blood ran cold. What had they done with the Ancient Sword?

Pushing away from the door, Hero hobbled down the hallway. Stiff and numb all the same, they kept a hand on the wall to keep them upright. More like, the wall held them up as they could not. Slowly progressing down the hallway, Hero sniffed. And sniffed again. Their mouth began to water, but no matter how much their mind urged them on, their body couldn’t go any faster than this snail’s pace.

The warm spice in the air beckoned them. Nearly dragging their exhausted body down the rest of the hallway, Hero stumbled out into a bright kitchen filled with that savory scent and an oppressive heat that billowed from a steamy pot on the stove.

“Hero?” Politician startled upon seeing them in the doorway. Immediately, the unmasked master criminal was at their side and guiding them into a hard kitchen chair. “What are you doing up? You should be resting!” Taking a step back, Politician ran a haphazard hand through their hair. “Clerk’s going to kill me, and so will Healer if they see you up.”

“W-w-wh—” Hero tried to speak but found their throat had gone dry. Politician turned away and pulled a glass down from a cabinet before filling it. Helping them hold it to their lips, Hero took a small sip and then another. They tried not to gulp it, afraid of drinking the refreshing liquid too quickly. It was all too tempting to do so, as it did wonders for their soul. Sagging against the straight-backed chair, Hero glanced up at Other Supervillain in all their civilian glory. “Why was I wearing your mask?”

Politician blinked at them. Any trace of the cold master criminal was blended into the public figure before them, exposing what could only be the person at Politician’s core—a vulnerable truth Hero doubted many people got to meet. “Yours was…it wasn’t in good shape.”

“But why?” Hero pressed quietly.

“I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know who you were,” Politician said honestly. “Though we didn’t run into anyone until we got here. Healer’s just resting, like you should be, but then they can—”

“It’s fine,” Hero interrupted, still hung up on the fact that Other Supervillain had given them their mask.

“I didn’t mean to overstep with the mask…I just didn’t think you’d want your identity exposed,” Politician hurriedly explained, as if they couldn’t sense exactly what Hero was thinking. Or maybe they weren’t using their telekinesis—out of respect? Did Politician do that? Did they restrain themselves and their powers out of respect for others’ privacy?

Hero placed a hand on Politician’s arm, fearing the headache they might conjure if they shook their head. “No, I mean about Healer. I’m fine, I’ll heal.” They shrugged. “It’ll only take longer.”

Politician narrowed their eyes, studying them. “It’s not a problem for them if that’s what you’re concerned about. It’s their job, and something they like doing. You just…you needed a lot of healing.”

“I know,” Hero whispered, closing their eyes. They swallowed the lump in their throat, but couldn’t find the courage to voice their fears.

Quiet footsteps paced away from them. Metal scraped against the glass stovetop and the bubbling slowed. Those same, patient footsteps approached them once more. Hero reluctantly opened their eyes to find Politician crouching down in front of them with concerned eyes. Hesitantly, Politician, laid a hand on theirs and gently pried their mask from Hero’s shaky fingers, setting it aside.

“Are you afraid?” They asked quietly, still resting their hand atop Hero’s in their lap but not quite holding their trembling hand.

Hero nodded, tears brimming in their eyes. They whispered, “Not of you.”

Politician smiled softly. “That’s something new…” They trailed off hesitantly before speaking again. “I’m sorry about the other day when I cornered you as Other Supervillain.”

“It’s okay,” Hero murmured, their voice weakening with each syllable. Their tears spilled over. “I know you n-ne—” They squeezed their eyes shut and took a deep, nearly painful breath thanks to how choked up their throat was. “You just needed to know what I knew.”

Gentle fingers brushed their tears away. Hero’s lip wobbled, tilting into a twisted frown. Before they could stop themselves, they half launched themselves, half fell into Politician, burying their head in the crook of their neck and wrapping their arms around them. Politician rocked back on their heels before they caught themselves and the sobbing purveyor of justice in their loose embrace.

Sitting up on their knees, Politician maneuvered them gently into a more comfortable position, loosely wrapping an arm around Hero’s waist and weaving careful fingers in their hair, cupping the back of their head.

“You’re safe here,” Politician assured them, even if they didn’t need to. “For as long as you need or want to stay, you’ll be safe here. Clerk is covering for you with the press as Other Superhero, and the Agency is scrambling to repair the fallout of Superhero’s betrayal. There’s nothing to worry about. Between myself and Clerk, you’ll be taken of. You’re safe.”

Hero took a shuddering breath, not sure how to feel about that or explain just what it was that plagued their mind. Eventually, the words came to them, but their voice wouldn’t work.

“I’m afraid if Healer does their job, none of it will be real to me.” Hero admitted shyly, curling further into Politician’s hold. “That it was all in my head.”

“So…seeing yourself heal will help you?” Politician asked slowly. “You’d rather not speed the physical process up, in case it was all a mind game?”

Hero nodded. With a shuddering breath, they mumbled against Politician’s skin, “I know I have to live with this, but I need to see it so that when…when the memories overwhelm me, I’ll know.”

“Memories are a difficult thing,” Politician said, tensing. Their voice was tight, as if steeling against a vulnerability they didn’t want Hero to witness. Hesitantly, Hero picked their head up to look at them. Even their features had turned guarded despite the gentle hand that slowly raised to wipe the wetness from their cheeks as Politician went on. “It’s not unheard of, though I don’t know how safe it would be to erase the subconscious too…I’m not offering, though.”

“And I’m not asking.” Hero fully peeled themselves away to look them in the eyes.

The pair stared at each other in silence. The tension in Politician’s features vanished at Hero’s words. Whatever Politician had set aside on the stovetop and abandoned had long since ceased its bubbling. Hero’s hands rested perfectly on Politician’s shoulders just as much as Politician’s hand fit perfectly against their cheek, cupping their face with a phantom’s touch like they were afraid Hero would shatter.

“What happened to Superhero?” Hero hated the murmured words that spilled from their lips and destroyed the peace between them.

“The Agency got to them in time. They’re…proportionately banged up, but they’ll live.” Politician didn’t so much as blink, but it wasn’t a ruthless façade masking their face, not this time.

No, this time their expression was open and almost soft, the picture of gentleness and care.

“They’re in custody, where they belong.”

Hero absorbed the words slowly, letting them sink into every shadow of their mind.

“Supervillain’s dead.” Politician’s jaw twitched, but their features didn’t harden like Hero expected they would. Instead, their fingers trailed along Hero’s jaw before they took their hand away and let it drop to their side. “I made sure of it.”

Hero swallowed. Their mind spun from too much information or maybe from the ordeal. It could’ve been the hunger clenching in their gut too, but it also could’ve been the way their heart swelled. Politician was magnetic, and so was their alter ego. Hero had always known it, had always been skeptical of Other Supervillain’s reverence and Politician’s impressive public relations. But being this close, this vulnerable? Hero didn’t know what to make of it, even if a tiny part of them longed for some semblance of what these feelings stirring in their gut could be.

“Does it bother you? That I’m a supervillain?” Politician asked. For the first time that Hero had ever noticed, the master criminal and beloved public figure seemed worried. Never before had the calm, collected mayor or the calculating, self-assured criminal ever showed an ounce of hesitancy in the way that they were now.

“Is there a reason why it should?” Hero’s heart fluttered in their chest. What were they really asking them?

Politician pulled away fully, sitting back on their heels. Hero was forced to lean back against the chair if they didn’t want to fall forward, though they sorely missed the safety of their companion’s careful embrace.

“If we were to be friends, not just allies as a hero and supervillain, but friends in our civilian lives…would it bother you?” They explained.

Hero studied them closely, looking for lies or half-truths where they didn’t exist. Their mind wandered to the sword. “I don’t think the fact would bother me…though I have to ask about the sword.”

Politician shook their head, chuckling a little. Standing, they said, “I figured you would ask.”

They ducked into another adjacent room and came back with the sword, its pommel still poking out between the cloth wrapping. Just as they came to stand before Hero again, the oven timer blared in the otherwise quiet of Politician’s kitchen.

They looked between the oven and Hero and back again. Laying the sword beside Hero on the table, Politician went to the counter and grabbed a pair of oven mitts. “It’s yours to deal with. You’re the only person anyone will trust to get rid of it. I’ve already given the Prominent Museum a decoy, as arranged.”

Hero’s entire being ground to a halt. They echoed, “‘As arranged?’”

Pulling a whole baked chicken from the oven, Politician flashed them a smirk. “I had plans of my own for the sword. Only Superhero and Supervillain beat me to it.

“I approached the Prominent Museum as Other Supervillain,” they explained, covering the chicken with foil and setting the whole pan aside on the stove as they reached for the pot they’d previously had boiling. Draining what was revealed to be potatoes, the master criminal continued divulging their plans to Hero.

“They’d been rumors that leadership at the Museum had wanted to destroy the sword because of multiple attempts throughout history to steal the sword, especially the more recent attempts. They were very eager to accept my offer to dispose of it for them, though as Politician, I needed to create a cover for why the exhibit was coming to City—hence the Business Committee meeting and city council agenda to take an interest in increasing tourism.

“It was actually very good for business, up until Supervillain stole the collection. But even reporters and investigators need to eat, so the Business Committee isn’t too upset by the bad press the city’s gotten recently.”

“So you…” Hero started, forcing their cloudy mind to work and process the scheme. “You arranged to help the Prominent Museum steal their own artifacts in order to destroy the sword, but to do that, you needed the collection to come here, to the City Museum? Why not just go to the Prominent Museum?”

“Because I was afraid it would raise too many eyebrows. It’s no secret Other Supervillain operates from City, and if I were to travel to Prominence as Politician and Other Supervillain just miraculously pulls off the greatest museum heist at the same time as my absence, someone might connect the dots,” they grinned pointedly at Hero.

Hero’s cheeks heated. They couldn’t say for certain whether they would’ve been tasked with the case if it were an international investigation because of Other Supervillain’s involvement, but they would’ve been curious and tempted to conduct some detective work of their own anyway. It’s why they were such a good hero. They were curious and interested by nature. They couldn’t let things sit, not if they were interested.

“Am I that predictable?”

“I’ve known you as Hero for years,” Politician said over their mixer, whipping the potatoes and adding some milk. “You’re dependable to a fault, and always present. Tell me, do you volunteer for security details or do you not get enough time off? Or is it good over time?”

Hero swallowed before they answered. “I just…like my job.”

Politician raised an eyebrow at them, moving on to slice the chicken. “The job? Nothing else?”

“There isn’t anything else,” Hero muttered. They eyed the sword beside them to avoid Politician’s stare. But it didn’t stop them from watching their savior out of the corner of their eye.

Politician set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table and then the chicken and a basket of bread, breaking Hero out of their woes. Plates and utensils came next, and Hero repositioned themselves to sit comfortably at the table.

“You nearly took a bullet for me once.” Politician said. Hero glanced up at them, squirming in their seat anxiously. “I never thanked you for that. Not personally anyway, only in press conferences.”

“Is that why you saved me? To repay the favor?” Hero asked.

“No.” Politician shook their head firmly. “I saved you because it was the right thing to do. Do you know how many people were looking for you?”

Hero eyed them wearily, opting to fill their plate while they waited for Politician to go on. They grabbed a roll and tore a piece off to nibble on.

“Nearly every hero the agency has was out there looking for you. Half the city’s vigilantes too,” Politician said, beginning to fill their own plate. “But I knew none of them would know about Superhero’s betrayal or would think to look into Supervillain when you’d probably declared me your prime suspect in the artifacts case to try and shield yourself from Supervillain.

“I knew there wasn’t enough time for them to catch up to you and the clues that had led you to, rightfully, believe Supervillain was guilty,” Politician said. They took a breath and slowly drew their eyes up to look at Hero across the table. “You’re always here, for the city. You deserve someone who’s there for you too, and I knew I was the only one who could be in this instance.”

Hero studied them intently. “So it was out of duty then that you saved me?”

“Duty,” Politician smirked, “and admiration. I truly want what’s best for this city and…”

Hero arched their brow, waiting for Politician to say something more, but the master criminal only turned their attention back to their plate. Hero thought back to all of their interactions with them. There weren’t many as Hero and Other Supervillain, but in their time serving on Politician’s protection detail…Hero thought they’d imagined it. The lingering looks or the small smile when Politician looked over the heroes assigned to them and Hero thought their eyes had landed on them, but now…Hero was fully convinced that the secretive feeling was mutual.

But still, their mind held reservations, especially in the wake of Superhero’s betrayal and all they didn’t know about their friend’s personal life—or their professional life.

How is it that they came to love a master criminal? Had it happened in a similar way to this? Or had they been captured and manipulated into believing they loved Supervillain?

Hero supposed they might never know, and if they never had to see Superhero again, then they were perfectly fine with that. They could live with Superhero in custody, a fact that did actually bring them more relief than they thought it would, given the circumstances of their last few meetings.

“You don’t want to just be friends, do you?” Hero set their fork and knife aside, sitting back in their seat. Politician froze. Hero fiddled with their hands in their lap. When they finally met Hero’s gaze, Hero wanted nothing more than to shrink in their seat and disappear. Instead, they persevered, bolstered by the hopeful gleam in their companion’s eyes.

“Does it bother you that I’m a hero?” Hero asked in the stretching silence.

Politician chuckled, their eyes dancing. “Is there a reason why it should?”

“Maybe one,” Hero smiled back.

“So I’m not imagining things then?”

“No,” Hero smiled, “you’re not imagining things…but…I need time, now.”

Politician smiled soberly. “I know. Whenever you’re ready, however long you need, I want this to be your choice, not because it’s convenient or a way to mask what happened. I meant what I said. Take your time, Hero. There’s no rush at all. Besides.” Their smile turned wry. “You have a sword to destroy.”

“I do, don’t I?” Hero mused, eyeing the item in question. Somewhere, in the back of their mind, they rued the fact that a hero’s work was never done. What in the world were they going to do with that? How were they going to destroy it or keep it safe?

With any luck, the master criminal and new friend sitting across from them had an idea, one that hopefully wouldn’t destroy either of them in the process. Hero was ready to heal, but more importantly, they were ready to fill the blank pages of their life.

#what could've been #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #heroes and villains #writeblr #hero x supervillain drabble #hero x supervillain snippet #Love Letters series #hero x supervillain flangst #Y'all. This was hard. Like I had so many ideas and they didn't all fit so I think I might also post a info dump later #but I'm excited about the spin offs #i have ideas #they might not all be doable #but they're there #the spin offs are going to be canon but the info dump is going to be things I wanted to do/considered but just didn't work out

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