chordwrites

[chordwrites]

a protective villain with a very Very oblivious hero possibly?

“Your knuckles…” the hero said. The villain turned around — fast enough to make their cape flap — and stared at the nemesis in their lair. Their wounds only healed slowly but the villain supposed they were doing better by the hour. However, they hid their curious and worried thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” they hissed, aggressive enough to promise the hero’s departure but as so often, the hero didn’t leave. They actually did the opposite of what they were supposed to do. They came closer.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re hurt,” the hero said softly.

“No shit.” The villain turned around again, their back towards their enemy. This was embarrassing. Not only had the hero found a way into their lair, no, they’d also found the villain in a vulnerable position. Even if it was just their knuckles.

“Hey, your joint capsules could be very damaged, or your bones—”

“Thanks,” the villain muttered but it was harsh and mean. What they’d done was pure evil.

“I’m trying to help you,” the hero said. They sounded frustrated. Slightly shaking voice, short breath…

“You broke into my lair.”

“You looked upset yesterday.”

“And someone beat the living shit out of you yesterday.” For the last time, the villain turned around. As they looked into the hero’s eyes, they saw confusion but above all that…shock. The loud tone was probably what had scared them. Now, the villain felt bad for that, too. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“I don’t understand. What did you do?”

The villain took in a deep breath. They closed their eyes but all it did was to bring up the violent scenes from this morning.

“The one who attacked you yesterday was a villain, right?” they asked. They observed the blood on their knuckles briefly.

“Yeah, a friend of yours, they say.”

“My best friend,” the villain corrected quietly, not whispering yet. It hurt to think about them, it hurt to talk about this. The villain was probably in shock, too. They didn’t really know, they just wanted everything to be over soon. “I killed them this morning.”

“…what?”

“I killed them. They’re gone. They won’t hurt you anymore.” They watched as the hero swallowed and they knew exactly what they were thinking. Monster.

It was true. Murder is one of the very few things that aren’t exactly justifiable. The villain was a monster. And for what? Love?

This was pathetic. The villain didn’t quite feel the guilt yet but they knew it would come and dip the next few months in complete darkness. It would be a very cold winter.

“Why did you do it?” the hero asked, cautiously as if they were afraid something like that would happen to them too.

“I’m a villain. It’s what I do,” the villain said and their voice was so bitter it was almost unbearable to listen to.

Somehow, the hero couldn’t believe that reasoning, though.

[chordwrites]

I love your writing. Maybe one where a villain kidnaps the hero’s sidekick but he finds out the hero poorly treated the sidekick so the villain takes them under his wing?

The sidekick flinched. 

The villain was, of course, used to people flinching away from him. He was a villain. It was in the name and the reputation, wasn’t it? He’d even enjoyed fostering such a reputation, seeing as he hardly had the height and bulk of a man who was automatically intimidating, however useful the ability to go unnoticed could be. Still. He was used to people flinching. 

 He were less used to people flinching when their rescuer walked into the room. 

Before then, the sidekick had been the perfect model of a hero in training. They didn’t immediately squeal answers, they managed a witty retort or two even, one that was genuinely quite inspired. The villain even liked them, in the sense of the sidekick would be the one they’d want to be teamed with on a group project. They just seemed competent. Solid. 

Until the hero walked in, and all of the colour drained from the sidekick’s face. 

Of course, it was a trap, so maybe the sidekick was simply worried for the sake of their beloved mentor, but...

But. The villain had a knack for fear, it was their speciality, and the sidekick hadn’t been afraid before. Not like they were when the hero walked in. They weren’t tracking the villain’s every move, trying to avoid the trap being sprung, they were watching the hero. And the hero...

The hero was the most telling. They didn’t ask if the sidekick was alright. They simply looked disappointed. 

So that was that, really. The pieces clicked together, and the villain had been intended to do their normal song and dance routine, their game, where obviously they wouldn’t cause any serious damage and maybe they’d flirt a little, and drop elusive hints about their plans to see if the hero was smart enough to figure it out. No. 

They pulled a seldom used revolver out of their jacket and fired, once, two, three times. The hero had the audacity to look surprised. Then they crumpled. 

The sidekick went very, very quiet. 

“So, they were a bit of a shit, weren’t they?” the villain asked. 

The sidekick’s eyes flashed to him, more wide-eyed now than they had been first gaining consciousness. They held very still, even when the villain deftly took a pair of scissors to the rope binding them in place. 

“You...you killed them,” the sidekick said. “Everyone said you were -” Heat rushed to their face, and they didn’t finish. 

“Everyone said I was an easy villain who was no real threat to everyone?” the villain offered. They knew it was true. They were the villain heroes liked to test their sidekicks on, to see if they’d sink or swim. Mostly, they swam, and the villain was glad for it. But sometimes...

The sidekick said nothing, staring at them. 

“Nothing reveals a hero so much as how they treat their team.” The villain reached into the pocket of his jeans, wriggling out a card, handing it in the direction of the sidekick. “And I’ve never seen someone look quite so freaked about the thought of going home.”

The sidekick took it, more on seeming automatic politeness than anything else.

“They’re a hero,” the sidekick said, as if that excused everything. Poor kid. 

The villain kneeled down before them, and met their bewildered eyes.

“Public heroes can still be personal monsters.” They didn’t try to touch, or crowd, none of their usual tricks. They did everything they could to melt back into harmless again, as if they ever had been. “And you deserve better than to make excuses for the bad they have done. That’s where I come in. Why do you think everyone calls me the accountant?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it. I meant a villain who called themselves Doctor Evil. You just kind of roll with the chosen pronouns and stuff, you know?”

The villain snorted, not able to hide a smile at that.

The sidekick’s gaze flickered to the hero on the floor, and back. 

“You’re free to go,” the villain said softly. “But if you want, I’d love to offer you a job. My job is balancing the scales, so it’s not for everyone. I don’t fall on any particular side and you may find that uncomfortable-”

“-Yes.”

The villain stopped.

The sidekick looked down, cheeks hot. “Yes,” they said, softer. “I don’t want anyone to feel like I did again. I thought - I thought it would all be different, you know?”

“I know.” God, did the villain know.

He offered the sidekick a hand. 

The sidekick took it, and it took a while, but they were the best team after that.

And, in time, the villain learned all the details of the hero’s cruelty. 

But the details had never been what mattered anyway. 

[chordwrites]

Prompt #2804

“I brought you food! The canteen was doing chocolate cake for my birthday so I saved you a slice! There’s pizza too, oh, and I got salad in case you prefer being healthy.” The teen sidekick pulled a face. “No idea why anyone would, but hey, maybe that’s something I’ll grow into when I get older. I also got water, and coffee, and soda, and-”

“Kid,” the collared supervillain said softly. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? You’re on the team, right? You should get to celebrate when we celebrate.” Their bright expression hardened into something stubborn. “I don’t care what the others say. You don’t deserve to be punished all the time. It’s not fair.” They shoved the plates of food through the gap in the cell bars. “Eat the cake,” they demanded. “You deserve it.”

[chordwrites]

Freaking love this dynamic! I was hanging onto every word

The protagonist never meant to become an expert on Villain. When they took the job at a small city newspaper they had dreams of in-depth local issues reporting, exposes on city governance, sensitive portraits of local residents.

But no. Their city was just big enough to have its own villain. And 'capes sold clicks,' as the EIC shouted repeatedly in meetings, to the visible distress of the copy editor. So the protagonist was assigned full time to Villain beat.

They hated to admit it, but the EIC was right. Villain stories did numbers and the protagonist had a knack for sensitive portraits of his victims, exposes on the police force's bumbling. Suddenly the protagonist was becoming a name. Everybody was reading them!

Including, as it turned out, Villain.

"You can't take the - stop struggling, you'll damage your wrists - take the [major market] job."

The protagonist stopped thrashing wildly against the handcuffs holding them to the chair to stare, aghast. "How did you... Are you reading my emails!?"

Even through an opaque mask, the protagonist could sense Villain's eyeroll. "While I do agree with most of your reporting on the police's incompetence, you may want to ease up on your critiques of their cyber security."

The protagonist went cold with new, professional horror. When Villain had snatched them off their apartment balcony, whisking them to this abandoned warehouse, they'd merely been afraid for their life. Now they were racking their brain if any of their sources were at risk.

The Villain misinterpreted the look on their face. "Relax," he said, taking a step back. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're just going to threaten my future employment opportunities?" the protagonist snapped. "Which I hadn't decided to take, by the way."

"Thats [Supervillain]'s town. They'll want you to report on [Supervillain]," Villain said, arms crossed. "And while I find your tales of my exploits charming at best, harmless at worst, [Supervillain] doesn't have the same respect for the fourth estate that I do."

The protagonist squinted. In the dim light, it was hard to make out Villain's darkly costumed figure,  but they could have sworn they just saw him shiver. "Are you... worried about me?"

"No!" said Villain quickly. "But I think you can recognize we have a mutually beneficial thing here."

"Thing?"

Villain spread their hands. "I raise your profile, you raise mine. You get me. You like me, I can tell. You're a rabble raiser, a truth-to-power kinda person, just like me!"

"Like you?" The protagonist knew they should play along, get the story. But damn it, they were cold and scared and in no mood to think they were part of any villain's self-aggrandizement. "Don't you dare claim you're fighting the system! The system doesn't give a shit about you! You do your worst and they write you off and pass the cost onto the little guy - the only person you've ever hurt!"

The protagonist ran out of breath, throat abruptly dry, handcuffs on their wrists as sharp and bruising as Villain had warned them. Villain was looking down on them, their smokey cloak billowing softly in a non-existent breeze.

"Yeah," he said dryly. "That's the kind of thing that will get you killed in [Supervillain]'s town."

"Screw you." The protagonist sagged back against the old metal chair. This was not at all how they imagined their first face to face with Villain going. They doubted they'd get another one. "We're not friends and we don't have a thing. Jeez, I'll quit journalism and go to law school before I side with you."

"Well, don't let me push you to that." Villain cleared his throat. "I mean, if you have to take the job, leave town, then fine. Whatever. Just... don't underestimate [Supervillain], okay? If you think I'm bad, well..." He shivered again, this time more theatrically.

The protagonist eyed him, long and focused. "You want an interview."

"What? No!" Villain scoffed, again too fast. "Why would I give you something you so obviously desperately want?"

The protagonist sighed. "Give me back my phone."

"No!" This time the Villain was serious. "Are you kidding?"

"So I can record this," the protagonist said patiently. "I've got an app."

"Use a pen and paper."

The protagonist raised an eyebrow. "You've got pen and paper in that suit?"

Villain glanced down. There was another long pause, then he pulled out protagonist's phone, tapped in their password "Okay. Recording."

The protagonist closed their eyes, imagining a list of questions in front of their eyes, imagining how this was going to come together on the page, imagining themselves accepting a Pulitzer - they shoved that thought away. Focus on the work.

They opened their eyes, looking Villain in the eye - the mask - as he obligingly held out the phone between them, red light blinking.

"So," they said, relaxing against the metal chair and cuffs. "Tell me why you do this."

And Villain did.

[chordwrites]

Prompt 12

Hero is pretty much useless and is just an adorable face for the agency.

And Villain is the fool who keeps derailing his heists to save Hero, accidentally making him look better and simultaneously creating a third identity for himself. His civilian identity, his villain name, and now the mysterious vigilante Hero-saver- And Hero is absolutely infatuated with Hero-saver.

[chordwrites]

Prompt 12

“I don’t get it,” Hero snapped, pulling away from Villain.

“What don’t you get?” Villain shot Hero that dopey, lopsided grin, though their eyes shone with a glint of uncertainty. 

Hero walked away, knowing that Villain would follow. “I can’t stand being touched,” they said. “My skin crawls whenever someone is even in close proximity.”

It took a moment for Hero to realize that Villain had stopped trailing behind them, but once they did they turned to face them. Villain’s smile had fallen. “I’m sorry,” Villain said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, that’s not it. For some reason, you’re the exception. The contact isn’t… desirable necessarily. But I don’t feel that urge to escape. It feels normal, like touching an object instead of a person.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment.”

“It is and it isn’t.”

[chordwrites]

Concept #8

A hero who is slightly touch starved and a villain who is very hands on and fights close range and the villain notices something is *off* with the hero. So they decide to capture the hero to figure out what exactly why they are being so ‘weird.’

[chordwrites]

-. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / --. .. ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / ..- .--. / -. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / .-.. . - / -.-- --- ..- / -.. --- .-- -. / -. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / .-. ..- -. / .- .-. --- ..- -. -.. / .- -. -.. / -.. . ... . .-. - / -.-- --- ..- / -. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / -- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. .-. -.-- / -. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / ... .- -.-- / --. --- --- -.. -... -.-- . / -. . ...- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / - . .-.. .-.. / .- / .-.. .. . / .- -. -.. / .... ..- .-. - / -.-- --- ..-

I hope this strikes your chords right. And if it doesn't, well, at least it was worth a roll.

After everything we've been through vlerlove

[chordwrites]

friendship prompts

two people who hate each other’s guts but in the end they’d die for each other

friends who don’t wanna be in a relationship or get married adopt a kid together

heart of gold teen/new adult winning over grumpy elderly person next door

good boy bad girl teaches each other about life and help each other grow as people

found family in which one member come home one day having “adopted” another member

little kid bonding with their single parent’s new partner

good girl bad boy expect she’s always there to set him straight and he’s terrified of her

lost childhood friends reuniting after their spouses introduce them to each other

best friends fake dating expect it really is fake/platonic

enemies to friends

the impulsive friend you constantly have to stop from breaking the law (no it’s not a good idea to break into the museum it’s 4am stop calling me)

intelligent individuals who turn into the biggest idiots in each other’s company

grandparents with their grandkids

the friend you tried to date but things didn’t work out and now you’re best friends

toddler bonding with the family dog

childhood friends to enemies to friends

getting into contact with a person your ex wronged the same way they did you, bonding over your experience

person A: i’d die for you guys person B: i’d kill for you guys person C: why does anyone have to die

BONUS:

two kids meet at the playground and become best friends, which eventually leads their divorced parents to fall in love with each other

[chordwrites]

Okay I just stumbled upon your blog and that Zac Ef header is life.

Like you have those pretty Tumblr aesthetic blogs with all their aestheticness and then there's

Zac Efron

Like

Zac Efron

Troy Bolton who —

Omg I'm so happy someone else appreciates low-definition Zac Efron. I watched Bet On It from HSM2 for old times sake and was reminded of how terrible the water "reflection" was and thought, 'yes, this is perfect.'

[chordwrites]

“What have you done?” The prince asked, his voice barely making it out of his throat.

Staring at the crumpling body of the king, the general grinned. “Everything I do is to protect the throne.”

“You protect the king,” the prince corrected, torn between taking a cautious step backward and rushing over to his father. “You protect...”

His eyes locked on the pool of blood spreading slowly from the corpse.

“I protect you,” the general finished, and raised his bloody blade once more. “And I’ll do it one more time by giving you this opportunity to run.”

[chordwrites]

Prompt 11

“Hello old friend,” Villain said to Hero’s grave. “I miss you, I really do.”

Hero hooked their arm around Villain’s own and leaned their head on Villain’s shoulder. Villain smiled softly at their hero, unrecognizable from the outside in their civilian clothes. 

“But I think we traded those times for something better.” 

[chordwrites]

Prompt 10

It flipped through the book—a human book, preserved in one of the last standing human libraries, despite what humans called the Calamity. It absorbed the unique arrangement of words, finding them rather pleasing, in a nonsensical sort of way. But with humans, you often had to look deeper to understand the true meaning. For instance, this book was fiction, yes, but it was representative of the world through the humans’ eyes. 

“It’s funny,” it said to the other. “The humans worried that machines would develop the capacity for sentience, but they didn’t fear the same for our kind.” It put the book back on the shelf. “Silly little organisms.”

[chordwrites]

Guys I... 😭 This is so great it hits so many emotional beats. I wanna hug Hero too

Could you write one where the hero is completely broken by their abusive mentor who believes "cant break what's already broken" so trains him to be broken and all they are good for is hero stuff and the villain finds out...and hero wakes up in the villain's base, no clue how they got there and they notice the villain caring for them gently and lovingly and the hero dosnt understand why because, thanks to the mentor, pure fear and pain and being heroic is all they know/felt/endured...

The hero stumbled back to the base, almost collapsing as they passed through the entrance. They were exhausted, sore, aching, but they had made it home.

Home.

But the hero couldn't rest, not yet, despite how they longed to curl up right there on the floor and sleep off the ache in their limbs. The hero had braced theirself to return here and face their mentor empty-handed, yet still they winced at the sight of the mentor waiting for them, waiting for answers—feet planted firmly apart, shoulders back, arms crossed.

"I let them get away," the hero whispered, leaning against the wall to keep from toppling right over. They hung their head, unable to face the disappointment in that cold, unforgiving stare. "I was hurt, and cornered, and... I ran. The villain... I wasn't ready. They were going to kill me."

"You failed."

The hero whimpered—a small, choked sound—and bit their lip to hold back tears as their mentor approached, each footstep heavy and deliberate. The hero kept their gaze pinned on the floor, wishing they could hide, disappear.

"You were weak."

The hero couldn't bring theirself to speak, couldn't think of what to say. Their mentor was right—the hero was weak. They had one job, one purpose in this life, and they had failed. Again.

"Look at me." The mentor gripped the hero's chin, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, and tilted it up until their eyes locked. Held it there long enough for the hero to read the emotions in those dark eyes—anger, disgust, disappointment—and then, faster than the hero could anticipate, the mentor's fist slammed straight into the hero's face.

The hero screamed, crumpling to the floor.

"Can't even take a punch. Pathetic," the mentor snarled. "Get up."

The hero struggled, arms shaking, to push theirself off the floor, whimpering at the pain that had the corners of their vision going black. Despite it, they obeyed as the mentor instructed them to take off their shirt, to face the wall, to brace their arms above their head.

"Please," the hero whispered. They had already been dealt so much pain today—

But their mind went blank as the first lash broke through their skin, warm blood leaking down their back. They bit their lip to keep from screaming—the mentor liked it when they kept quiet, took the punishment without a sign of weakness. They pushed the pain to the back of their mind, burying it like the mentor had taught them.

Another lash.

"Good," the mentor said, and the hero smiled, and replaced the pain with thoughts of happy things.

Your body is an object. A weapon. Weapons do not feel pain. Weapons cannot be broken.

Another lash. Again, again, again.

By the time the hero passed out from the pain, their palms were bleeding from how hard their nails had dug into the skin, their lip bleeding from how hard they had bitten down to keep from screaming.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When the hero woke, the pain had faded to a dull throbbing from their head to their toes. They kept their eyes shut, wanting to stay in bed for just a moment longer, not quite ready to face the day that awaited them—but the bed they lay in was not their own. The blankets beneath them were soft and fluffy, the mattress thick—a far cry from the scratchy sheets and cardboard-thin mattress on their small cot at home. They opened their eyes to see walls that were blue, not gray, and a large window open to let in a fresh, cool breeze. They didn't have a window at home.

The hero scanned the room and stiffened when they saw the villain, reaching immediately for a weapon that wasn't there. They had been stripped bare, their torso wrapped in bandages, wearing nothing but a clean cotton shirt and pants. Completely and utterly defenseless—and alone with the enemy.

The hero pushed theirself out of bed, ignoring the agony as wounds in their back split open, blood soaking through the bandages.

Bury the pain.

The villain was on their feet in the instant, reaching for the hero. "Stop, you're hurt. You need to rest-"

The hero flinched at the movement, backing away with their teeth gritted.

'Why are you hurting me?' the hero had sobbed when they first started training with the mentor.

'This is for your own good,' their mentor said. 'I will break you so thoroughly that you can never be broken again. You will learn to bury your pain, to not feel it, to let nobody use that weakness against you. They cannot break what is already broken.'

"Where am I?"

"My home," the villain said, gently, carefully.

"How? Why?"

"Your mentor," the villain snarled, nearly spitting out the word before regaining their calm composure, "left you sprawled on the floor like a bloody slab of meat. Unconscious, defenseless, free for the taking."

The hero swallowed down their questions, a nauseating mix of emotions swirling around inside their gut.

"I assume this was supposed to be another test," the villain sighed, after a long moment of silence. "Send you straight into the enemy's hands, already injured and hurting, see if all that training did any good. But I assume you're tired of all the training and tests. You look like you could use a vacation."

The hero stiffened. That's what this was. Another test. Another chance to prove theirself.

"Don't pretend to know anything about me or my training," the hero growled. They squared their shoulders, forcing theirself to meet the villain's eyes with determination instead of fear. "What I'm really tired of is games, so stop playing them. You can trick me and torture me all you want, but I will never tell you what you want to know and I will never surrender to you."

No pain. No fear. No weakness.

They repeated the words silently as the villain drew closer.

No pain. No fear. No weakness.

The hero flinched as the villain's arms wrapped around their body, the villain's hand reaching up to hold the hero's head against their shoulder. This wasn't like any kind of punishment the mentor had given them—it didn't even hurt.

"What are you doing?" the hero hissed, arms hanging limp at their sides.

"It's a hug, dumbass," the villain sighed. "You look like you need one."

"I—wh—I don’t—”

"I'm not playing games, and I'm not going to hurt you. I know you're in a lot of pain, and you've been forced to be strong, all alone," the villain whispered, pulling back to meet the hero's eyes.

"But I'm here for you now, and it doesn’t have to be like that anymore.”

[chordwrites]

The Clone Part 2

Previous 

Villain scowled, stalking back and forth in their lair. What a complete and utter buffoon Hero was. Do whatever you want with it, Hero had said. It, they’d called Sidekick. It. 

Their henchmen had been informed of the situation, and to Villain’s relief, had been relatively sympathetic. They all knew what it was like to be outcasts, after all. To be considered something less than human. 

A shape in the corner of their eye broke them out of their thoughts. 

“Sidekick,” Villain greeted, then kicked themself. Sidekick must have noticed Villain’s wince, because they offered an awkward smile. 

“Sidekick’s fine,” Sidekick said, though they stumbled a little over the name. “Until I can come up with something better, at least. I thought about it last night, but... nothing felt right. I’ve never thought of myself as anyone other than Sidekick, so it’s still a little strange for me.”

“I’m sure you’ll come into yourself soon,” Villain said. “You just need the chance to be your own person.”

“I don’t know if I ever will be my own person.” The defeat in their voice punched Villain in the gut. 

“You will, I’m sure of it,” they assured, “and I’m never wrong. Tell me, you have a civilian identity, yes? Is your civilian family aware of your situation?”

“Hero is the real Sidekick’s parent,” Sidekick said, and Villain stored away that information for later, malicious glee nearly showing on their face, though Sidekick didn’t seem to notice. “Hero was really the only person I felt close to when I thought I was Sidekick.” 

“That’s not a bad thing,” Villain said. “It’ll make this transition less messy.”

Sidekick watched Villain warily. “Transition?”

“I did say you were my hostage, but I’ve thought better of it. How would you like to work for me instead of Hero?” Villain held out their arms in a presenter, ‘ta-da’-like fashion, hoping a light-hearted offer would make the clone more at-ease. 

Sidekick lowered their gaze to the floor, silent for a moment. “I don’t feel comfortable with... I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt someone.”

“Except yourself,” Villain mused, regretting the comment when they Sidekick flinched. 

Villain was angry enough at Hero to take Sidekick in without requiring their labor, but something told them that that would only make Sidekick feel guilty. Besides, Sidekick needed a purpose—something to keep them going while they figured out who they were. Then, there was that other problem.

“You don’t need to work with me in a villainous capacity. If you want to make yourself useful, you could help out around the base, or simply take your time here to decide what you want to do. School might be a good option.”

“Why are you expecting me to stay with you?”

“You’re a teenager, for one thing, with very little experience out in the world on your own. How old are you really? A few months? Practically a babe.” 

Sidekick grumbled something unintelligible under their breath, much to Villain’s amusement. Perhaps there was still a little fight left in them after all. They’d need it if Villain’s concerns were valid ones. 

“Though that’s part of my reasoning, the more pressing issue is your creators. They cloned Sidekick and replaced them for a reason. Are they currently a threat to you?”

Sidekick gripped their arm, rubbing it nervously. “Hero gave the organization a pretty thorough beating when they rescued Sidekick. They were just using me for intel, as far as I know. I don’t know if they’ll come after me once they’re back on their feet.”

“All the more reason for you to stay here for the time being. Let me deal with the organization while we get your life in order.” 

“This all sounds too good to be true. I don’t deserve any of that.”

“None of that," Villain said, a bit dismissively. “Now, I’m hungry. Do you like eggs.”

Sidekick still eyed them with suspicion, but they nodded. “Scrambled.”

“Over-easy for us, Boss,” Henchman 1 said from behind Villain. 

“Hashbrowns and whatever vegetables you have on-hand, too,” Henchman 2 added. 

Villain’s hirelings could be as irritating as they were useful. 

“I don’t remember offering to cook for either of you,” Villain said, but made a mental note of their orders. 

[chordwrites]

The Clone

Based on this prompt by @nuttynutcycle 

“Come on kid, please stop this. I don’t… don’t make me hurt you.“ The villain’s voice broke. “At least fight back.” 

“No,” Sidekick said quietly. Villain stood over Sidekick, who lay on the ground with Villain’s newest invention clenched tightly to their chest. Two of Villain’s henchmen struggled to wrangle the device out of Sidekick’s grip.

“No?” Villain’s fist stilled, their expression conflicted. Even Villain’s henchmen cast wary eyes at one another.

“Stop,” Villain said at last. “I said stop!” The henchmen immediately backed off. “Leave us, for now, but stay close in case I require your assistance.”

The henchmen nodded and scuffled off, throwing a few backward glances at Sidekick.

As soon as the door closed, Villain closed their eyes and collapsed to their knees beside Sidekick. “Why not? Why do this?” They wanted to pull their hair out. “Entering my lair on your own. Stealing my newest project without even a hint of caution. Not even bothering to fight back. Do you have a death wish? Where’s Hero?”

Sidekick didn’t respond.

Villain sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me. If you want my invention so badly you can have it.”

Sidekick’s head shot up, and Villain sympathized. They could hardly believe that those words had come from their own mouth. “What?” Sidekick said. “No, you’re supposed to—”

“Supposed to what? Beat the shit out of a kid who won’t even fight back? Or perhaps take the high road and allow my henchmen to do it for me. Is that what you wanted?”

Sidekick fixed their gaze on the floor.

“Trust me, Sidekick. On any other day, I’d do anything to win this little game of ours, but this right here isn’t a game—this isn’t right. I know how rich that must sound coming from me, but you need help. This isn’t healthy behavior. I’ll call Hero and— ”

“No!”

Villain started at the fear in Sidekick’s outburst. “You’re going to have to give me a reason, Sidekick,” they said slowly, “and make it a good one.”

“There’s no point in calling. Hero doesn’t want anything to do with me.”  

“Of course they do, they adore you, Sidekick. And that adoration isn’t conditional. Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure that— ”

“They don’t, and stop calling me that.”

“Calling you what?”

“Sidekick. That’s not my name.”

“Not your name?” Perhaps this was nothing more than a rebellious streak then. If true, it would come as a relief, though it wouldn’t explain why Sidekick had been this utterly incompetent to the point of concern. Villain tried out a more playful tone, a smirk brushing their lips. “Becoming more independent, are we? Is that why you don’t want me to call Hero?” The smirk faded.  “I’m not trying to question your general capabilities, but I’m wor- I’m unsure that your judgment is sound at the moment. From my viewpoint it seems like you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

“No, I mean I’m not Sidekick at all.” And at last it appeared that the dam had been broken. “I’m a clone. I switched places with the real Sidekick months ago, and now Hero hates me. I- I didn’t know I wasn’t them. I was created with all their memories intact. Hero found out, and now they’ve rescued them. They have them back. Their real sidekick. And now I’m just… I’m nothing.”

Villain’s mind reeled. They could scarcely comprehend what Sidekick was saying, much less believe it, but… “You’re not nothing. I’m… at a bit of a loss for words, I must admit, but I know that, at least. I had noticed that your skills have seen massive improvements in recent months.” Villain chuckled softly to themself, but trailed off when Sidekick—er, Sidekick’s Clone just stared at them. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you when Hero found out, but they wouldn’t want you endangering yourself like this.”

“They don’t care what I do. I’m not even a real person,” Sidekick said with conviction.  

Villain’s unease and concern swirled together into a heated anger. “Did Hero say that? If that’s true then Hero can go fuck themself. Regardless, going on a suicide mission isn’t the answer.” Villain held out their hand, and the sidekick stared at it before carefully handing over Villain’s invention.

Villain set the device to the side and held out their hand again.

This time, the sidekick took it, if shakily. Villain helped the sidekick stand.

“Unfortunately, Sideki… Do you have another name you’d like to go by?”

The sidekick shook their head.

“Well I’m sure we’ll come up with something soon. As I was saying: unfortunately, this has become a kidnapping on my part. Until further notice you’ll be held hostage here in my lair.” Villain raised their voice. “Henchman 1, Henchman 2! You may return now.”

Villain waited, their hand still gripping sidekick’s own. As the henchmen approached, Henchman 1 shot the sidekick a confused glance, while Henchman 2 raised their eyebrow at Villain, but both remained silent. Villain cleared their throat.

“Henchman 1, please take our guest to the spare bedroom down the hall.”

“Right away, Boss,” Henchman 1 said, the hesitation only perceptible because of how long Villain had known them. Villain would have to give a briefing on the situation later.  

“Henchman 2… please put Hero on the phone.”

[chordwrites]

Prompt 9

Though it is frowned upon in society, necromancers are often hired to bring dead loved ones back to life. Only, they almost always come back... different, and the living can’t always deal with having the dead around. 

One necromancer opens a home for revived people who are abandoned by their living loved ones.