silky-worm

[silky-worm]

Please I need to know what happens when villain wakes up beside henchman, are they going to be surprised to find them in their arms or was it their plan all along?

Hehehe, I was in the mood to continue, but if anyone else wants to write their version feel free to do so :)

Part One

CW: nightmare, disease description/indirect torture

Dull light pressed against Henchman's eyelids, rousing them reluctantly from the deep confines of sleep. Where were they? Not in the cold, efficient bunks of the barracks, that was for sure. The light was orange and natural, rather than the sterile white of ceiling fluorescents. And they were much much too comfortable. Warm and swaddled in soft covers.

Where had they been last night? On an assignment? Right. Their assignment with Villain. They were chosen. Villain needed to lay low from the heroes and had been unwilling to go completely alone. They needed ‘security’. Which apparently actually translated into ‘personal servant.’ Villain was too powerful to think a simple henchman, even one as highly trained as Henchman, could offer them any sort of protection. But errands and chores? Sure.

Their face muscles twitched against a soft insistent tickle running across the skin. They thought they might have felt it in their first moments of grogginess too, but now that their brain was slowly waking up, the touch was more tangible.

Anyway, they’d been traveling with Villain for about a month now, so they were getting used to waking up disoriented and unfamiliar with their surroundings. Since they were the one making the reservations, they usually could arrange themself a bed, but they also weren't unused to finding themself on the shorter end of the stick. They’d slept in sofa beds, pull-out cots, balcony hammocks, and the floo—

It struck Henchman horrifying and all at once. They remembered. Last night, they…

Their eyes shot open, rapidly blinking away crust and blur and taking in the bone-chilling image in front of them.

Villain lay on their side beside them, propped up on one elbow to loom over them by a few inches. Their forefinger traced the stress furrows in Henchman’s brow, following one long swoop down their temple and stopping along their jaw.

“Good morning, sunshine.” They smiled down like a wolf hiding it’s fangs.

Henchman shrank back deeper into the covers.

“G-good morning…”

"Sleep well?"

"I...um..." Henchman's face was suddenly accosted by a wave of warmth that spread from the burning tips of their ears to the quivering hollow of their throat. "Yes, thank you."

“Good, good. So." Their steady gaze flashed with something dangerous. "Care to explain why we’re snuggled up like two bears in winter? I don't remember making any such arrangements last night."

Henchman went to speak, but the start of an explanation cracked and halted halfway up their throat. They had to clear their throat twice before finally squeaking, “You grabbed me…”

Villain's hand tightened in a vise-like grip around their jaw, not painful, but a clear demonstration--a warning--of who was in control. "I just reached down and plucked you off the ground?”

“I…well…no. I was standing next to the bed or, er, I was…leaning on the bed…”

Villain's grip loosened and the back of their hand traveled caressingly up Henchman's cheek and into their hairline. Despite the gentleness, it still felt like a threat.

"And why was that?"

Henchman wished they'd stop touching them. It was messing with their head. They'd much rather just be shoved to the floor and shouted at rather than whatever this psychological torture was, making their heart race with simultaneous fear and attraction.

Wait, what?

No. No, no no. They were not attracted to Villain. Not only were they their employer, they were a ruthless, feelingless killer. And maybe Henchman’s hands weren’t so clean themselves but at least they didn’t have the sort of mind to imagine up the sort of dark schemes that Villain orchestrated. One could admire a leopard in a zoo, but that didn't mean they should enter into its cage.

"I'm waiting." Villain twirled a strand of hair a little too tight around their finger.

"Y-you were making noises," Henchman said. "I just want to check that you were ok."

"Noises?"

Please don't make me elaborate. I want to get through this job with as many fingers as I began.

"Just...um...regular, restless, unhappy noises..." Henchman did their very best not to mention how utterly terrified the villain had seemed. “Maybe you were having a nightmare? I-it happens now and again. To everyone.”

"A nightmare." The way Villain said it, Henchman couldn't tell if they believed them or not. Should they clarify more? Would that help? Well, it seemed it was already spilling out...

"You were tossing and turning and I just leaned over a little to check and...and you grabbed me. I tried to go back to the floor, but I was caught so tight..." They felt the heat in their face turn up a few notches at the explanation. It was embarrassing enough being caught in such a situation, now they had to recount it to Villain's face? What if Villain thought they were blaming them for all of it? "It was all just a big accident. I'm sorry. I-I-I should have minded only myself. I'll do better."

Villain studied them consuderingly, steady but for one slow blink.

"I did have a nightmare last night," they finally said.

Their gaze urged Henchman to further question so they choked out a weak, "Y-you did?"

"One of the stinking, septic pits, to which the law banishes people such as myself. Have you ever seen one? No, of course, you haven't. You skirt along the threads of my web but you'll never be the spider. To them, you are no predator, only the entangled remains of a civilian half-devoured. When they catch you, you go to prison. When they catch me... Well..." They shrugged. "In any case, I was back. Back in the dark with the drain flies and the crawling disease, the scent burning the tastebuds from my tongue and unbearable stinging to my eyes. And there it is always wet, so my skin had become soggy and pale, infection bleeding in and cropping up as excruciating sores."

When Henchman cringed, they smiled, as if describing such horrible conditions to one who had never experienced them actually gave them some pleasure.

"I was trapped in that endless horror for what felt like days, but then suddenly there was a bright light, and it all melted away like candle wax. I was left floating in a warm midnight ocean, the lapping water healing my wounds and the gentle waves rocking me into rest. I knew that I didn't have to swim, that I could just lay in peace for as long as I wanted. Could that have been you?"

Henchman thought about lying; it could be the immediate save they needed. But then they thought of the Villain's discerning gaze and inquisitive questions. Under those conditions, they couldn't hold up a fake story for even five minutes.

"I really don't know, Boss. You did calm...but coincidences happen every day."

"Mmm," Villain acknowledged. They finally drew back their hand to stretch both arms above their head, and Henchman leaped for the opportunity to roll onto hands and knees on the cold hardwood.

Villain chuckled. "Am I so frightening?"

Henchman rubbed sore palms together and took an extra cautionary step back. "With all due respect, you are."

"But you did sleep well."

Henchman didn't know how to respond to that. They weren't even sure what Villain was trying to say. Did they think Henchman should be more nervous? Because they definitely had the covered.

Villain grinned again, this time with all their teeth. "I think I've discovered something invaluable."

"Ok...?"

"I have no intention of forcing unwanted accommodations, but if we're ever in this situation again, I'm more than happy to share."

Henchman dry swallowed, invoking a violent cough that scratched up the inside of their throat and made their mouth taste like metal.. "You don't have to do that."

"If it benefits both of us, I see no reason not to."

I see a thousand reasons! Starting with sleeping next to a villain being a plain idiotic thing to do.

Even if it was the nicest sleep they had in a long time.

"That's ok."

Villain shrugged and settled back against the cushions. "Think on it. And fetch us both some breakfast, hm? You slept too long, and now I'm starved."

Henchman's eyes flicked to the wall clock. Almost 11. Wow. What was Villain, their own personal brand of sleep medication?

Nope. Don't think about it.

"Of course." They pulled on their shoes and took five seconds in front of the hallway mirror to calm their hair. "I'll be right back."

They thought they saw a bakery on their way in last night. It was close and should be more convenient than anywhere else. And if they also knew Villain had an incurable sweet tooth and that buying them a cheese danish would spark that little gleam in their eyes, half joy, half threat, it was only because they were getting good at their job.

Part Three

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstonee @crazytwentythreess @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps

[silky-worm]

Short prompt #35 /snippet

Henchman blinked at the full-sized bed at the center of the room, duffle bags sliding slowly to the floor as their arms went noodle-like at their sides.

“I, um— I’ll take the floor, Boss.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Villain said with enough elegance and feigned appreciation that Henchman actually almost felt proud of themself. As if the criminal overlord would ever actually consider sleeping on the ground. For a subordinate no less. Henchman was just a nobody they picked out of a crowd, someone they needed to carry the bags, make hotel reservations, and do other menial labor Villain couldn’t be bothered with while they were off the grid.

Though the criminal was kind enough to toss them a pillow and the rough spun bed runner that had been folded longways over the end of the mattress.

Henchman pulled the heavy duffles against the wall and immediately flopped down on the hardwood, too exhausted to care about bedtime routines, and too anxious to share a bathroom sink with their boss. What would that even be like? Did Villain even expect to share? Or was Henchman meant to wait outside the door until they were finished?

With those thoughts spinning in their head, they listened to Villain’s footsteps padding around the room, and they briefly jolted to attention at the sound of running water, but then they were engulfed in sleepy darkness.

They might have stayed that way all night—without noticing any repercussions to floor sleeping until assaulted with tomorrow morning’s aches—if it weren’t for the sudden bloodcurdling scream that pierced through their dreams and, seemingly, their soul.

Henchman sat up fast and straight backed, blinking away their grogginess as they rapidly scanned the dark room.

A soft whimper sounded a little above their head. Henchman went rigid, their first instinct to press themself flatter against the hardwood, but a long, fear-filled whine later and Henchman was on their feet.

“Boss?” Henchman hissed into the dark.

The mattress groaned as Villain tossed the other direction, but other than that, Henchman received no reply.

They dared edge closer, resting their palm on the plush mattress and feeling it give and sink as they leaned in.

“Uh…Boss?”

Arms snapped around them quicker than the bite of a viper, pulling them face first, in a heap of flailing limbs, onto the bed.

Henchman barely bit back a yelp, gathering themself up enough to attempt a retreat before Villain’s mischievous arms dragged them back down, sharp chin tucking itself snug into Henchman’s neck. The evil overlord mumbled something incoherent and let out long peaceful sigh. Apparently whatever night terror had been ailing them was now passing.

Meanwhile Henchman’s nightmare had just begun. What were they supposed to say if Villain woke up and found them like this? Would they think Henchman had slunk up there next to them in the night? That they were a creep attempting to try something?

Telling the truth would involve mentioning Villain’s nightmares, which might turn out just as dangerous—Villain despised showing weakness. And this was definitely something the criminal would probably classify under that umbrella.

Henchman attempted to gently lift one of arms entrapping them against Villain’s warmth—an admittedly cozy prison—but the movement only made them squeeze tighter, making Henchman well and truly stuck.

The only shifting they could manage was to kick their legs under the crumpled covers, something they figured they might as well do if they were going to end up trapped on the bed anyway. They hadn’t realized how cold the floor had really been until the felt the chill seeping off into the warm blankets and shared body heat.

Involuntarily, their eyelids drooped closed and quickly became too heavy to lift again. Villain’s soft breathing lulled them deeper and deeper into comfortable darkness.

It was probably foolish to feel anything other than terror, but with the world fading into such a strong air of protection, Henchman barely remembered to dread the morning.

Part Two

[silky-worm]

Scrap part 2

Part One

CW: Signs of abuse and trauma

Villain probably didn’t need to carry Henchman inside: it wasn’t as if they were injured, and with their employees covering every inch of this base, it wasn’t exactly the smartest thing to do. Too many eyes with too many intentions. But the little thing was still frozen and trembling in their seat when Villain opened the car door. They didn’t look like they were going to move an inch, so scooped into Villain’s arms again it was.

Several of their henchmen stared after them as they passed, but they ducked Henchman’s face into their shoulder until they reached the only guaranteed safe place they could think of: their own living quarters.

They worked so much, it had been necessary to make a home for themself on and off base. It wasn’t exactly a supervillain’s dream, but it was comfortable. A bed, a fridge, some warm string lights on the walls. What more did you need?

As Villain set Henchman’s little body on the edge of their bed, they expected them to make a run for it. Or at least scramble out of Villain’s reach. That would have been the natural reaction. Their stock still posture was more disturbing than any sort of melt down.

"Come here."

It was only half a test; when the henchman edged a fraction closer, Villain snatched them gruffly by the arm, shoving the clinging sleeve up their arm.

Ugly, raw rub-burns banded their wrist in vivid red. Villain didn't know how the sight could shock them when they'd already expected it, but for several seconds they were frozen--but for the light drag of their thumb over the ring.

"What is this?"

Henchman ducked their chin into their collarbone and fixed their eyes firmly on the rolled sleeve in the crook of their elbow.

"Hey," Villain repeated gruffer. "Where did this come from?"

Of course, Villain already knew; it wasn't like anyone would dare lay a hand on Supervillain's property...except apparently them.

The henchman swallowed. "Sometimes...when Supervillain hits me, I try to duck...or...or run... The ropes keep me still."

Villain stared.

They could be sick on such a statement, especially with the henchman stated it, as if they were the one in the wrong for trying to escape harm, as if they expected Villain to be in accordance with Supervillain's horrid methods.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom," they said finally. "I'm going to go get it. Stay where you are."

They probably didn't need to give that last order; when they returned, the henchman looked like they hadn't even allowed themselves to shift their weight on the mattress, let alone leave the room.

"Relax," Villain said, sitting on the bed beside them. They popped open the kit's plastic lid and pulled out a little tube of ointment. "I'm not going to hurt you if you disobey."

Now it was little scrap's turn to stare.

"What?" Villain said, rubbing a dollop of soothing ointment into the wounds and watching their charge flinch and melt within seconds.

"Other sleeve."

The henchman robotically gripped their sleeve cuff, stiffly pulling it up to their bicep where it squeezed the limb purple. Their eyes bored sharply into the side of Villain's face as they began treating the second, identical rub-burn.

"I...I don't understand," the henchman said, barely above a whisper. "Did Supervillain--"

"Supervillain doesn't know you're here."

The henchman's eyes grew wide as silver dollars. "Y-y-you shouldn't have done that!"

"And left you shivering in that closet?"

"Yes!"

Villain stopped rubbing the ointment for a moment. "You mean you wanted to be with Supervillain? You like this sort of treatment."

"I-t's not about want," Henchman sputtered. "It's about... It's that... I'm not my own to give."

"That's exactly the sort of thing that lifts any doubts about stealing you."

"But Supervillain--"

Villain lifted a finger to their lips. "Let me worry about that. In the meantime...think of this room as yours."

Henchman gaped then blushed then shrank small.

What was their-- Oh!

"I'll be staying in my apartment across town," Villain clarified, "so you won't have to worry about seeing me. Though I may stop in every day to check in on you."

Henchman nodded, a mixture of relief and anxiety warping their expression.

"Maybe once you're feeling better, and when we're sure Supervillain isn't looking for you here, we can see about getting you a job. A nice one, no visions required."

Henchman's lip trembled. "W-why?"

That was the question. Villain wasn't even sure they knew themself. They were putting everything on the line for one little scrap of a person, their job, their reputation, their life. And yet, they didn't question that they'd made the right decision. They couldn't leave the poor thing with that monster. They might have been a villain, but even they had their standards of morality.

"Because I take what I want," Villain said, making it simple.

"And...you wanted me?" It came out as more of a squeak than actual speech, and the pink rising in their cheeks burned all the brighter against their parchment pale skin.

Where were they even getting these ideas? Or was the blush just more anxiety?

Oh well, Henchman wasn't exactly wrong, even if the reason they were picturing was different from the truth. Even if the answer confused Villain as much as it did them.

Villain shrugged.

"Sure. I suppose I did."

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner

[silky-worm]

Scrap

Whipped this up really fast late at night. I didn't reread it because I'm tired, but I will in the morning and may make changes.

CW: Abuse, verbal abuse, signs of physical abuse, slight slavery implications

"You didn't have to come in so early," Supervillain said, shoving open their polished office store and beckoning Villain inside. "I know I told you to find those names as soon as possible, but a couple of hours would have made no difference."

"I prefer to do my business promptly," Villain said, sitting primly on the edge of one of the low, scarlet chairs placed on the other side of Supervillain's desk. The cold leather, made chilly from the endless overhead air conditioning, seeped through their cotton trousers, and they had to fight a rather reprehensible shudder.

Supervillain settled across from them, towering as always no matter how straight Villain sat. Perhaps they shouldn't fight it. There was a reason Supervillain was top dog and Villain was doing the dirty work.

"At least let me get you something to drink. Tea?"

"Thank you," Villain said with some strain. They hated every moment in this cold, gleaming house. Everything perfect. Everything nice. Despite the pleasantries, they knew as well as anyone that Supervillain could spring the wire on them at a moment's notice, turning this seemingly beautiful home into a steel trap.

"Henchman!" Supervillain roared.

Within seconds a pale, wiry thing stepped halfway through the door.

"S-sir?" they said, voice hushed as tall grass in a breeze.

"Don't just gawk from the door like a spirit, get in here!"

They stumbled across the threshold but kept their distance all the same. Supervillain was right to compare them to a spirit. Pale hair curled behind their ears and blended with the bleached tone of their skin, making them appear absolutely ghostly. Perhaps if the deep maroon of their suit vest didn't create such a contrast, Villain would have believed they at least sometimes saw the sun.

"Y-yes, S-sir?" Henchman tried again. Their eyes kept sinking toward the floor, but they always caught themselves in a few seconds and brought them straight ahead again.

Supervillain sighed deeply, and Henchman flinched. Perhaps skittishness. Or did that exhale of breath mean more than Villain knew?

"Tea. Black. For the both of us. It better still be piping when you bring it here or else I will skin you."

"Yes." Their shoulders caved a little, and they stood frozen. It was as if they were bound to the spot by a tight cord and only Supervillain could provide the release.

"Go on," Supervillain said with a sharp nod. The tension broke all at once; Henchman bowed their head and hurried out. Supervillain sighed again once they were gone. "Excuse me, it's been like herding cats trying to train that one."

"They do seem to try," Villain said, feeling somewhat like they should stand up for the poor thing, but also not willing to bring Supervillain's fangs upon themselves by defending the creature outright.

Supervillain snorted. "Not hard enough as far as I'm concerned, the spoiled whelp. Not for what it cost me to get them here."

"They take a high wage, do they?"

"Ha! You think I'd pay for that wisp more than once? No, I got them from the oracles, and they require upfront payment for any of the touched. Seemed deal enough at the time for access into the future. Not that they've done much of anything since getting here. Except be a nuisance and oversteep my tea." They regathered themself from their bitterness and rested their elbows on the desktop. "Anyway. You got what I asked for."

"Pages 1-10 of the hero identity registry," Villain confirmed, tapping the pages against the desk a couple times before passing them over. "It was all I could get before their AI changed the security codes and booted me out of the system."

Supervillain sifted through the pages carefully. "10 pages out of how many?"

"127." Villain did not let their nerves leak into their voice. As soon as Supervillain smelt weakness, they would swoop down on them. Be confident. Emotionless.

"And you could get in again?" Supervillain asked slowly.

"Yes."

"And again?"

"Most probably."

Supervillain nodded. "I want this entire list in two months."

Villain's brain immediately screamed all the chances that this would go terribly wrong, but what else could they say? They didn't need to work for Supervillain, but it certainly helped. Their own company didn't have the resources to stand unsponsored yet. Perhaps after this job, they would finally be independent.

"Sir," they said. It was a firm agreement. They would unmask the entire hero world in 60 days or face Supervillain's wrath.

The door creaked slightly, and the little Henchman padded in, arms locked in front of them, tray gripped in trembling fists. The teacups rattled in their saucers as if they were also a little bit frightened.

"Stop that noise," Supervillain said. "How many times have you been told that you must enter smoothly and without noise. Everyone else here seems to know how to do it and yet you still fail. Is it rebellion? Is that it?"

"N-no!" Henchman said, hastily setting the tray on the desk. They clapped it down a little too hard and a few sugar cubes leaped from their bowl and tea sloshed out the teapot nozzle.

Supervillain scrutinized the deep amber stain on the tray liner. "You overfilled it again."

"I'm s-sorry."

"Speak properly."

Henchman opened and closed their mouth several times, obviously fighting to still the tremble of their lips and quash that stubborn stutter. "Excuse me, sir."

Supervillain studied them a moment. "You know once you give me a vision this all ends. You can stay in the room I prepared for you instead of working."

"I'm trying, sir."

Supervillain straightened abruptly, hand raised. "Did I ask for your lip?"

Henchman shrank away, and what Villain had taken for the shadow of their shirt collar along their neck suddenly came clear for what it really was. A deep black bruise.

Yet, once again, they did not move until Supervillain excused them. Not even to flee the threat. Villain wondered how much blood and pain it had cost to get them to learn that.

No matter. This was Supervillain's underling in Supervillain's house. Villain's opinion on the matter wasn't relevant. It wasn't as if they could talk Supervillain out of their cruelty. Might as well just forget about it and stick to their own worries.

Or that was what they had thought at the time.

Villain intended to go straight for the front door when they finally left Supervillain's office, but the soft sound of sobbing halted them. They listened a little closer.

The whimpers and sniffling carried from the other end of the hall, and just a short detour led them to it's source: Henchman, curled among the mops and cleaner bottles in a barely cracked supplies closet.

The underling must have caught sight of Villain's shadow under the door because they suddenly cried, "Please don't lock me in!"

"Hush," Villain said, swinging the door a little wider to show themselves.

Henchman visibly relaxed but then blushed as they wiped desperately at their cheeks. "Y-you won't tell Supervillain, will you?"

"That you're hiding in the supplies closet?"

"Anything," Henchman hicced. They rubbed at their wrists, perhaps the tight cuffs of their sleeves also hiding more bruises, and fresh tears streamed down their face and off their chin. "I-I'll try to give you something in return. Just please..."

They bowed their head, avoiding Villain's eyes and allowing the criminal to study them one last time. What a little scrap.

Villain looked both ways, left and then right. Before they could think better, they scooped Henchman into a bridal carry and began a brusque stride for the exit.

"What--?" Henchman began a little too loud.

"Shhh," Villain said a little harshly. "Stolen goods don't talk."

Part two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio, @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez

[silky-worm]

Mini Snippet Part Two

Part One

CW: Sleep deprivation, self-starving, some depression and major insecurity, death mention, murder mention

Villain missed the milk jug twice before finally wrapping their fingers around the handle. They heaved it into their cart with a clang loud enough to earn a few looks, but they were simply grateful their trembling arm had made it that far. Even just standing was exhausting. They knew the remedies. Proper food and proper sleep, but both, as easy as they seemed, seemed to linger just out of reach..

Gory images of Hero plagued their vision every time they closed their eyes. Those lifeless eyes staring straight into their heart. Hero had no qualms about killing people; Villain shouldn't feel so bad about returning the favor, and yet...their stomach hadn't stopped churning since. They could barely keep a meal down a day, and so they watched themselves fearfully, helplessly, grow gaunter. And weaker. And more lost.

Villain swiped their fist across the sudden wetness in their eyes and moved their cart out of the way of the refrigerators. They had tried contacting Supervillain several times since their argument. And then several more times after the...incident. Nothing but silence.

Why had they let Hero go? If they'd just let Supervillain take care of it all like they'd intended then maybe they wouldn't be so miserable.

Who do you feel guilty about? Hero or us?

Shut up.

You agonize over an enemy, but you killed us too. The henchmen's voices blended together in their head. always angry. Always accusing. It had only begun after a few days of sleep deprivation. If they could just sleep... But they couldn't sleep. You thought you could fix it so easily? You're pathetic.

"Please shut up," Villain begged, pressing their forehead to the cart's handlebar.

"Villain?"

Villain's head shot up. Too fast. They swayed a little on their feet, only balanced by a steadying hand on their shoulder. They stared down at the gentle touch, blinking in confusion at the all-too-familiar callouses and scars. Slowly, slowly, as if worried they might disappear, another illusion in a series of persistent figments, they lifted their gaze to Supervillain's face.

The hand drifted up their neck and jaw, cupping their face. Reassuringly tangible. Villain melted into the warmth, fighting the urge to throw themselves against their lover's--ex-lover?--chest.

"You're so thin." Supervillain's thumb stroked up and down their cheekbone. "Have you been eating?"

Villain choked on a sob.

"Hey...hey..." Their other hand clasped the back of their neck, giving a gentle squeeze before quickly freezing and dropping again. Then the hand on their cheek dropped too. Arms hung limp and awkward at their sides. Supervillain wet their lips. "It's... good to see you."

"Really?" Villain hated the emotion in their voice. "You've done an awful lot to avoid me."

"I needed space."

"I needed to talk to you."

"I had the funerals." Villain flinched at the hardening of that word. "Amends to the families. Then I had to completely reevaluate security. Prepare defenses against anything Hero might have shared with other heroes. But then Hero got themselves killed anyway, which was a whole other fiasco."

"I killed them." The words fell heavy and cold, out of Villain's mouth. Dead things.

Supervillain gaped.

"For you. I killed them for you. To...try to...I don't know...fix things? I know it wasn't much of a fix but..." They swallowed.

"No." Supervillain's eyes roved them up and down. "No. You didn't. You didn't kill anyone. ...Did you?"

Villain stepped back, their spine resting against the bar of their cart. They stared down at the scuffed tile. “I needed to talk to you.”

Some stupid part of them had thought if they could just get to Supervillain it would all be ok. They could tell them it was alright. Hug them. Praise them. Love them.

But now they were here. And Villain felt no difference at all.

They rubbed their knuckles between their eyes, sparking starry pain across the blood in their vision. “I can’t unsee it. Unfeel it.”

"You didn't need to do that. I never asked you to..."

Villain looked up at them. “Do you forgive me now?"

“You didn’t need to do that,” Supervillain repeated. Their face twisted mournfully, creases along their eyes where only real pain ever creased them.

Villain’s gut dropped.

“Did I make it worse? Am I…am I ruined?”

Supervillain used to tease them about their supposed villain’s purity. Plenty of crime and callousness, but none of the bone-chilling harm many villains frequented. It had drawn Supervillain to them in the first place. They found it cute. Well, until that cuteness backfired like shrapnel into ten bodies.

Villain only wanted to turn things back the way they were. They never considered Supervillain might be even more disgusted with them changed.

Villain clenched the hem of their shirt, shoulders shuddering. Maybe they should run. Ditch the groceries and get somewhere where those disappointed eyes didn’t dig into them. They couldn’t run very fast, but they doubted supervillain would give chase anyway.

Strong arms wrapped them tight and close.

“You’re not ruined.”

“But—”

“You’re not,” Supervillain growled. “You’re just…just…sort of different. And that’s fine. Because the important parts are still there.” They squeezed a little tighter, digging their jaw into Villain’s thin shoulder. “And I’m sorry you felt you had to do something like that for me. I should have reached out.”

Do you love me again?

The words danced across Villain’s ragged brain, but they couldn’t bring themselves to put them into sound. What if the answer was no?

“Come with me.” Supervillain loosed Villain from their embrace, but kept a firm grip on their hand as they transferred their own items into Villain’s cart, quickly taking control and rolling toward the checkout. “You need several hot meals and a warm bed.”

“I-I-” Villain stumbled after them with aggravating incoherence.

“Who else is going to take care of you?” Supervillain challenged, of course picking up meaning in their syllables of protest.

Tears sprang to Villain’s eyes. That was more ‘I love you’ than words could ever say.

***

Well, this sort of came out of nowhere. If you prefer the angst of part one you can pretend it ended there. If you prefer happy endings, I hope you enjoyed. It’s also been a while since I wrote part one, so the vibe may be different.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

[silky-worm]

Mini Snippet

“Supervillain.” Villain stumbled over their feet, trying so hard to keep up with their partner’s long stride. “Please. Please, let’s talk.”

Supervillain whirled around so fast, Villain slammed their nose into their chest.

“Oooh, now you want to talk. Now you care what I have to say. Because now there’s nothing for me to say no to, is there?”

Villain tightened their fists. “Look, I’m sorry I went behind your back, but it had nothing to do with you personally.”

Supervillain scoffed humorlessly. “Not personal? Not personal? Of course it’s personal! You let Hero go! After everything, you just waltzed in and released them!”

“Y-you we’re going to kill them. You know how I feel about—“

“So you let them kill my people instead.”

Villain stopped short, mouth dropped open and frozen as they searched Supervillain’s face for some sign of exaggeration. Some proof that they were just trying to make a point.

“What?” they eventually whispered.

“Ten people. Hero killed ten people on their way out of my base last night. Half of them were non-combatants. So tell me, Villain. Why—“

They cut off the rising heat in their voice and took a deep breath.

“Why,” they repeated calmer. “Did you think the life of that snake was more important than our own allies?”

Those words, with their quiet sharp edges, did more damage than the earlier explosive outburst.

“I…I didn’t…if I knew…” They struggled for words beneath Supervillain’s boring eyes. That was the look they gave strangers, enemies, subordinates who stepped too far out of line; they’d never looked at them that way before. “I just wanted everyone to be okay.”

Supervillain blinked at them. “Grow up, Villain.”

Villain flinched.

“You should know by now that it’s not that simple. We don’t have the luxury of keeping everyone ‘okay’. There’s just us and them. Pick a side.”

Supervillain turned brusquely on their heel, but they only got in two steps before Villain caught their sleeve. Their hand trembled around the balled fabric.

“Are…are we okay?”

Supervillain.paused. When they looked over their shoulder, their expression roiled with something between anger and pain. “I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want to see you. Not for a while.”

They took Villain’s hand in their own, gently breaking their grip before continuing down the long corridor.

They did not look back.

Part 2

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner

[silky-worm]

Consequence of Action

“When you do these things—jumping straight into the deep end, fighting with supers twice your level, going radio silent and following through with barely threaded schemes—do you ever think about the people who’d be affected if something happened to you?”

"What, like the employees?" Villain said, staring intently down their bent arm and one-handedly securing a bandage on their bloodied elbow.

"I mean me!" Henchman cried, pounding their fist on Villain's desk.

Villain jumped a little and then glared, "Don't do that, you almost made me mess up."

"What? You seriously...? Did you even...?" Henchman threw back their head in a hysterical, humorless laugh. "Of course! How inconsiderate of me! Having people worried for your life must be such a bother! You'd rather be alone, patching up the fruits of your recklessness without annoyances. Well fine, be alone!"

They started storming for the door.

Villain blinked, the words slowly registering. "Henchman--"

Henchman wrenched at the handle, barely catching the door before it cracked the drywall.

"Henchman!" Villain repeated, "You know that's not what I meant. You're just...always hovering! Worrying over every little thing!"

Henchman whirled around aggressively, jaw clenched and wetness brimming their eyes. "I love you. But I can't do this anymore. Every day feels like it could be your last, and you don't even care. You don't listen, you don't take care of yourself, you push away anything and anyone that opposes what you want to hear; now you won't even let me help with the first aid--"

"Because every time you help you get like this!"

Henchman closed their eyes and took a deep breath. When they opened them again the tears were streaming down their cheeks, but their gaze was dead. "I'm just exhausted."

"I don't understand what's even happening right now. All this because Hero scratched me up a little?"

Henchman scoffed. For a moment, it looked like they wanted to bite again, but then they just shook their head and looked Villain dead in the eyes. "I hope you have a great time throwing away your life."

The door clicked softly behind them.

Villain stared at the dark wood for several moments, imagining Henchman's furious little storm down the hall and debating whether the best response would be to give chase or let it lie.

The wall clock ticked in the silence, turning 5 seconds into 10 then 20 then 30. Henchman would be back tomorrow, right? Probably no need to go after them. Villain could just enjoy the silence for now. Yeah.

They settled back more comfortably in their seat and got busy rubbing ointment into one of the nasty purple bruises inking their shoulder. They winced under the pressure, and no one said, "I know, love" or "just sit still a little longer" or a growly "who did this to you?" No one said anything at all. The second hand on the clock simply kept doing its job, filling in the space for the conversation with the passing time. And that was just fine.

[silky-worm]

(If you feel like a prompt...) Right Hand was hit by the Good/Evil Ray, and has suddenly turned Good. No longer drawn to a life of crime, they now hope to put their long-neglected teaching degree to good use! Villain is trying to be supportive of this sudden career change, but thinks that if their Right Hand MUST become a Substitute Teacher, they could at LEAST avoid the high school that Sidekick attends!

This gave me such domestic vibes, I had to

***

Villain tapped their thumbs idly on the steering wheel, eyeing the stream of ill-mannered youth flooding the high school's front doors. They'd never been a huge fan of children, too wild, too unpredictable, too breakable. Righthand was though, even before this whole mess happened they'd had an eternal soft spot for the messy brats. If this was what they wanted to do next, Villain should accept it, but they just couldn't shake the worry that they should be doing something else. Working to build a new ray, or locating the original, or holding Hero responsible for their ethically questionable actions.

"You know we could just hit you with it again," Villain murmured. They'd been holding it in for a while now as Righthand prepared to return to their old vocation, but now, as it all became real, it slipped past their defenses and their lips. "Turn things back to normal."

"Yes..." Righthand said, also watching the kids leeching across the parking lot, though maybe with a touch more nerves than Villain. "But doesn't it feel wrong? I don't even know what 'normal' is anymore." Righthand glanced over, deep brown eyes making brief contact with the criminal's before quickly averting out the window again. "It's just...I don't feel... I don't feel any different. I'm still me, aren't I? I just don't feel so much hate anymore. And honestly, it's a relief. That feeling was consuming, dictating, and now...I can just do what I want."

"And this is what you want?" Villain pressed.

"I mean...yes? At least it was for a big portion of my life. Before..."

"Before me."

Righthand rested their hand over Villain's clenched knuckles. "It wasn't just you. I wanted to join."

"But now?" Villain couldn't even look at their second. Their friend. Their partner. Their love. They were too scared of what sort of look they might be giving back.

"But now I want to do this." Righthand took them gently by the chin, turning their face toward them and staring them firmly in the eyes. "And that does not in any way change this."

Villain searched their face for any hints of falsehood, any pity, but their gaze was just as intense and coldly determined as it had always been. They really weren't a different person, were they?

Villain swallowed. "Ok."

Righthand smiled, stroking their thumb down Villain's cheek before abruptly releasing them. "I should probably get going, school starts in 15 minutes. Don't want to be late to class on my first day."

"Don't forget your lunch." Villain craned through the gap in the seats and plucked a blue lunch bag from the backseat.

"Thank you, lovie." They accepted the bag and pecked Villain on the lips before swinging the door open to the icy winter air. "I'll see you in a few hours."

“Don’t let the little monsters walk all over you.”

Righthand glanced over their shoulder. “I think I have enough experience keeping people in line."

Then they were gone, walking across the lot with the rest of the masses.

Villain's eyes trailed them all the way up to the sidewalk. Until a mass of loose curls and a patched heather hoodie drew their attention elsewhere. Heroes didn't exactly announce their identities to the world, but they also barely used more than an eyemask to hide their faces. Villain would recognize that little tag-along Sidekick anywhere.

Of all the schools in the city for Righthand to be called into, it had to be this one.

The kid must have noticed Righthand at about the same time Villain noticed them because they suddenly stopped in their tracks. They immediately began scanning the parking lot, eyes narrowed, until they landed on Villain's car. Their arm rose, seemingly involuntarily, into a pointed finger.

Villain waved.

Sidekick stepped forward and then back again, glancing around at their fellow students with a grimace. They quickly slipped out their phone and began rabidly texting something. Probably a heads up to Hero that two villains were hanging around a school building.

Sorry, kiddo, nothing illegal about dropping someone off for work.

As Righthand had disappeared into the building, Villain rolled down their car window and leaned out. “Hey!”

Sidekick’s head shot up.

“You be nice to them, you hear? I better not catch wind of any backtalk or misbehavior!”

Sidekick gritted their teeth and shot as rather juvenile glare in their direction before shoving their phone back in their pocket and whirling toward the school doors.

That little rat better not say anything to the school, not that they could do much to prove anything, not with a pair of master criminals behind their false identity, but Righthand didn’t need any rumors circling around when they were just getting settled.

However, that aside, Villain couldn’t wait to see how this all played out.

[silky-worm]

Hey! Can you please continue short prompt #56? I’m literally on the edge of my seat wanting more lol. Thx ❤️

Part One

Supervillain's office smelt like someone had dumped a gallon of autumn spice cologne over every cherry wooded inch of the room. Villain tried hard not to gag as they came through the door--they were already in enough trouble as it was--but they couldn't seem to completely wipe their grimace. The scent made their eyes sting and lingered bitter in the back of their mouth.

"You needed me?" Villain piped up and then immediately winced. Was Supervillain going to take that in a romantic way? Of course, Supervillain didn't need them; first of all, it was just a dating app match, and second of all it wasn't like Supervillain couldn't date whoever they wanted. They didn't want Supervillain to assume that they assumed that something was about to happen between them. Villain wasn't that pathetic. Or desperate. Or interested.

"Ah! Villain." Supervillain swiveled in their desk chair, steepling their fingers beneath their chin. "Quick question. Roses or orchids?"

Villain stared, facial muscles seizing in involuntary shock. They didn't even think they could blink. "Uh...orchids?"

"Eating in or eating out?"

"I don't get why--"

Supervillain cocked their head to the side, the sharp cut of their slow blink stopping Villain short. Those eyes were like clear-cut diamonds, so pale they were almost devoid of color. In picture, Villain could stare for hours, but in person, it was a little like being flayed alive.

Villain swallowed. "Depends on my mood and how long of a day I've had."

Supervillain considered that for a moment, and though their eyes vaguely clouded over, the change in luster was not enough to stop their vacant gaze from piercing straight through Villain's throat. Another sudden blink seemed to file that information away for later and on they went.

"Movie or dance?"

"Movie I guess."

"Salty or sweet?"

"Neither. Spicy."

They were getting the hang of this question game.

"PDA or privacy?"

Nevermind.

Villain blushed and looked down at their knees. "A little of both."

This time Villain did take a physical note on the notepad in front of them. Then they marked something on a grid sheet and nodded Villain politely back toward the door. "Alright, I'll take that into consideration. You can return to your workstation now."

Villain blinked. "What?"

"I said that's all I need from you, you can get back to work."

Was Villain hearing this right? Not acknowledging the dating app was one thing--there were a million ways to explain it away, and after all, it was sort of embarrassing--but to ask all these odd personal questions and then dismiss them?

"You're not even going to tell me what all these questions are for?"

"Just a little pop quiz."

Villain blinked again. "What?"

Supervillain pulled a stack of papers across the desk and began initialing sections every few paragraphs. "I'm gathering data from my admirers in order to transfer it into my ruling style. Whatever attracts you to me could also be used to "attract" more followers and sway the public to my side."

"Oh." Villain hated the humiliated flush spreading across their cheeks, but they hated the disappointed knot in their chest even more. "That...makes sense."

Stupid. Why didn't they deny it? Tell Supervillain that their little narcissistic test didn't apply to them because they'd only swiped up out of pity. Why did any words at all refuse to come to their mouth?

They turned numbly back toward the door, barely feeling their legs move them across the room and down the hall back to their desk. They stared blankly at the blueprints they'd been drawing up for a new destructive weapon, something that had been meant to really make them stand out from the rest of the think tank, and half-considered crumpling it into the garbage can beside their desk before they forced their hand to take up their pencil again and went back to sketching lines. This jilted feeling didn't mean they still didn't want a raise.

They lost themselves in the work, letting it consume them whole, anything not to think about the humiliation and irritating hurt roiling in the back of their mind. It was nearly midnight when they realized Supervillain's story made no sense. How did gathering data on Villain have anything to do with Supervillain's admirable qualities?

They must have dozed off sometime after that because when they came to themself again, they were blinking morning light from their eyes and their cheek was pasted to the blueprint sheet. Lifting their head groggily, the glint of blue glass caught their eye.

A little vase of red orchids sat safely on the far corner of their desk.

Villain rubbed their eyes, but when they lowered their fists the orchids still stared prettily back. They looked around the empty office for matching gifts, even mozied around to the other dead departments to widen the pool, but it became quickly apparent that they weren't going to find anything.

They were the only one with flowers, and based on yesterday's interrogation they knew who they were from. They just wished they knew what that meant.

…

I felt like this scenario could go lots of ways, hopefully this one is ok :)

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer

[silky-worm]

Short Prompt #42

“Supervillain.” Villain’s smooth voice floated like music across the kitchen, dancing past the dirty cutting board and the large pot of soup before settling gracefully in Supervillain’s ear. “Why is there a hero sleeping on our couch?”

Supervillain looked up from the stove with big, pleading eyes that didn’t at all match their gruff exterior. “It was raining, and they were cold.”

“They��re a hero.”

“But they’re just little. And the agency kicked them out of the boarding house because of all the recent city damages, but they don’t have anywhere else to go because they have no family, and now they need a day job along with the hero job so that they can start raising money for their own place, but no one will hire them because you have to be at least 16, and their birthday isn’t until—“

Villain plucked the wooden spoon out of their hands and pressed the rounded end to their spouse’s lips. “And how do you know this?”

Supervillain settled their hands on top of Villain’s tipping the spoon slightly sideways to speak. “We talked, and—“

“Supervillain!”

“What?”

“Don’t be so soft! This kid is manipulating you. What proof do we have that any part of this sob story is real and not a trap to get into our home and slaughter us in our bed.”

Supervillain cupped Villain’s face firmly, half-protective, half-apology. “Heroes have hurt you...”

“That is an understatement.”

“…but I’ll never let anything like that happen to you again. I would never let anything or anyone near you unless I was absolutely sure they were safe. This hero is not like those other ones, I promise.” They stared into Villain’s eyes for several seconds, until the diamond hard gaze began softening into limestone. Then they abruptly turned back to the soup and coughed, “Plus, I already called their social worker and confirmed they’re an orphan.”

Villain whacked Supervillain in the arm with the spoon as hard as they could. “We’re not adopting them.”

“Can we at least discuss it?”

…

Yaaaahs, why didn’t I think of this family dynamic earlier?

Part Two

[silky-worm]

If you can can you write a continuation of prompt 42? This is very early considering you just ousted a couple hours ago but I love the dynamic. Thx so much you are one my fav writers on tumblr!

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoy this story too! Have a new POV!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Everything was strange.

Three days ago, Hero wouldn't have even thought about entering Supervillain's territory let alone their house. Now they were lying on the master criminal's couch in a pair of thick, warm pajamas and wrapped in the plushest blanket they'd ever encountered.

This was not the picture that had been painted for them when warned about the consequences of running into high-profile villains. Honestly, they were still sort of waiting for the criminal pair to turn on them when the nuance of babying a helpless hero got old. Villain was certainly pressing for it.

They weren't quite as renowned as Supervillain, but they were big enough to have their own file. One of the only villains in the system with an actual kill order on them. Hero had recognized them on sight.

What were they capable of to have the agency pushing so hard for their termination? Hero didn't even want to imagine. Especially not when they were currently surviving off their hospitality. If it could be called that.

"All snug?" Supervillain asked, looming over them like a terrible, scarred shadow.

"Yep," Hero smiled weakly.

"Good." Supervillain fidgeted with the blanket's hem for a few more seconds before straightening all the way up. Hero still couldn't get completely used to how terrifyingly tall they were. "Do you need anything else?"

Terrifying or not, the villain had been kind. There was no denying it. And even if Hero didn't know what to do with that kindness, it at least made them a little more comfortable. Maybe they could dare ask what had been eating at them ever since the mall.

"Er...not really. But I was wondering... What exactly... Villain was a little weird earlier. D-don't you think?"

Supervillain smiled lightly, and Hero barely held in their breath of relief that the question hadn't offended the criminal. "I suppose."

"Um...did it have something to do with their question? The testing? They left right after that. I don't know, did...did I say anything to make them mad?"

Supervillain's hand clasped them warmly on the shoulder. "They definitely were not mad at you. I promise."

Hero nodded vaguely. "Then...um...are they mad at the agency? That's probably a stupid question. You are villains. You don't exactly get a file by being on good terms with the agency. Er...not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean, if you were, you also wouldn't have helped me out, so..."

Hero trailed off. They were so stupid.

Supervillain smiled again, but it faded as they glanced apprehensively toward their and Villain's bedroom. Villain had disappeared inside almost immediately after reaching the apartment.

"Look...I don't think it's my place to talk about it, but I can tell you a bit. Just so you understand." Supervillain settled on their knees beside the couch. "You should know as well as anyone that the agency scouts people with powers. They can find anyone, like sharks with blood in the water. They have a sense for it."

When Hero's power manifested, it had been much too obvious to hide. After ripping a tree up by its roots and throwing it at somebody, it hadn't been surprising when the inquisitors showed up. But they'd been around enough other kids in the agency, kids whose parents had tried concealing their children's powers, to know that the agency was indeed very good at finding people.

Supervillain took a deep breath, as if the next part of this story took effort to get out. "Villain had a power. One they classified as destructive. It manifested when they were just a kid. The agency brought them in, and because they had nobody looking out for them, nobody to ask questions about why they were there for so long, they kept them. For years. They were poked and prodded, cut and tested, fed a hundred different kinds of pills, injected with dozens of experimental concoctions, until eventually, their power was just gone. 'A complete success.' 'Safer' that way." Supervillain's fists clenched, face contorting into a snarl. "Then they dropped them. No matter that their project had spent half their life behind their walls. No matter that they'd never been taught how to live on their own. How to eat, work, or defend themselves."

Hero shrank against the couch cushions. Supervillain looked ready to bite; they barely seemed to see the room around them, totally caught up in a memory that the hero couldn't see.

Supervillain caught the small movement, snapping out of their boiling rage and clearing their throat. When they spoke again, their voice came out calmer. Measured. Like cocoa in a mug. They were struggling to find the right balance between too sweet and watered down.

"When I found them they were out for blood. They had no regard for their own safety. Just a hard heart and a craving for revenge. We were...good for each other." Supervillain blushed a little. Hero couldn't help but blush a little in return. They weren't used to blatant sweetness, and once again, they were struck by the villains' relationship.

Supervillain sighed a little sadly, looking back at the bedroom again with something like yearning. "But underneath that, underneath all those snapping fangs and violent behavior, is a lot of deep fear. Fear I can do nothing about, no matter how hard I try."

Hero stared. The corner of Supervillain's lip barely cracked up.

"It hit them a little harder today. That's all."

"I... Don't you have to sign permission for the agency to start power alteration?" Hero couldn't believe that. Yes, the agency was a little rough. Yes, they'd kicked them out with little to nothing. But they were still the ones keeping the city safe from rampant power users and criminals. Maybe it wasn't pretty that the agency registered everyone with powers, or that they encouraged alterations or removals to those who rejected the hero life, but they understood why they did it. It was dangerous having people doing whatever they wanted their powers. And surely, they wouldn't go so far as to do anything without someone's consent.

Supervillain shrugged. "Villain was a kid. Maybe they pushed something at them that they didn't understand. But I wouldn't be surprised if they did it of their own accord, knowing Villain had no way of fighting back."

Maybe they saw something disbelieving in Hero's expression because they abruptly stood back up, ruffling Hero's hair with sudden nonchalance.

"I don't blame you for wanting to defend them. They've been your life for so long. I'm not asking you to switch sides or trying to corrupt you or anything like that. It's just a bit of information I thought you might want, take it or leave it."

At that moment, the bedroom door creaked, and Villain advanced into the living room, arms folded tightly in front of them. They now wore a pair of blue-grey pajama shorts and a t-shirt much too big to be their own. Supervillain's maybe?

"What's going on out here?"

Supervillain immediately strode across the room, wrapping their arms around Villain's waist with a wide grin. "Just talking."

Villain's hand went up into the taller criminal's hair,, raking through it strand by strand. "Oh, really?"

Supervillain nodded, fighting to keep their eyes from fluttering closed. It was like Villain had reduced the top villain in the city to a ginormous cat.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking on you." Villain's sharp eyes flicked across the room, locking with Hero's. "Did you brush your teeth?"

Hero numbly shook their head.

"Brush your teeth."

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii i @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system

[silky-worm]

[silky-worm]

Could you please write a part 4 of prompt 42 whenever you find the time/inspiration? Thank you in advance. I hope you have a great day! (I was about to ask anonymously, but figured that my first ask should be at least show my profile lol)

Prompt 42 is just bringing out all the first asks xD

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

"No." Villain took the shoes out of the cart and pressed them back into Hero's hands. "Only the essentials. This isn't a charity."

"Oh." Hero looked down at the sneakers' sunset canvas, squeezing them tightly together in their hands. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," Supervillain said.

Villain glanced at them and their partner nodded meaningfully in Hero's direction. Villain looked back at the youth. Yes, they looked pathetic. A puppy Villain had just kicked. They stood awkwardly in front of the cart, clutching those shoes like their life depended on it. What, was Villain supposed to feel bad? They'd already picked out one too many shirts and a more expensive pair of sweats than they'd been planning on. Didn't Supervillain see the kid was pushing it?

"Hero, what do you're shoes look like now?" Supervillain pressed.

Hero lifted one of their worn blue boots. "Oh, um... They're fine. They're hero grade after all." Then with a forced laugh, "I could probably last an apocalypse in these."

"See?" Vilain said. "They're fine."

They attempted to roll the cart forward, but Supervillain grabbed the edge and stopped it short.

"What?" Villain said exasperatedly.

Supervillain nodded at Hero again, lowering their voice. "Wasn't the point of this to get them into something other than their hero uniform?"

"Shoes are different. They don't need to be washed every time you wear them."

"And they are a just a kid. A kid who's been through a lot. Don't you understand how that feels?"

"Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't understand," Villain hissed, but they did give the Hero's feet another glance. The boots, though scuffed, were in good shape, thick-soled, and shiny blue. When it came to practicality there was nothing wrong with them but... But there was something utilitarian about them. Every hero sported the same style, just in a different color. An impersonal piece of clothing leftover from an indifferent agency.

"Put them in."

Hero jolted a little. "Oh, no. I really don't want to cause trouble. You're right, it's not a big deal."

Villain fixed them with a hard, steel stare. "Do you want me to change my mind? Put them in."

Hero quickly and carefully placed the sneakers alongside the thick package of athletic socks.

"Thank you."

"Thank, Supervillain."

Hero stole a look at the taller villain. "Thank you, Supervillain."

"You're welcome," Supervillain grinned. "But don't let Villain's bad attitude fool you. They're a softy at heart."

"Oh really? Let's see how soft I am when you sleep on the floor tonight."

"Not even the couch?" Supervillain gasped, holding their hand to their chest in mock hurt.

"Hero has the couch."

Supervillain gasped again. "Choosing a hero over me?"

Villain rolled the cart toward the checkout. "At least, they're not bugging me right now."

"Oh, come on." Supervillain draped their large body across Villain's back. "You know you love me."

"Get off! You're heavy!"

"Not until you say it."

"Say what?" Villain squirmed and elbowed beneath Supervillain's weight.

"Say you love me."

"I don't have to, you already know I do!"

Supervillain hummed ponderingly, the vibration tickling Villain's skin where their partner leaned their chin into their neck. "I will be generous and accept that answer."

"Stupid." Villain shoved Supervillain again. This time swayed back as easily as if they were made of straw. Villain caught them by the arm before they stepped back too far, sliding their fingers down into their hand.

Hero smiled.

"What?" Villain said, catching the quirked lip out of the corner of their eye.

"N-nothing." Hero clasped their hands nervously together and looked down at the fluorescent reflection of the ceiling lights on the tile. "I've just...never seen stuff like this outside of movies. I-it's nice."

“Aw,” Supervillain said.

“I hope my parents liked each other this much.”

“AW!”

Hero quickly held up their hands. “I’m not trying to compare or anything! It just sort of popped into my mind, and I said it without thinking!”

“It was adorable!”

“It’s not a big deal, kid,” Villain said. “It’s a natural thing to think about.” They hesitated. How much did they actually want to know about this kid? They were leaving in a couple weeks, right? So there was no point getting curious, but well…they were. “Did you know your parents at all?”

“No. I was still a baby when the orphanage got me. Heroes pulled me out when I started showing powers.”

Villain stiffened.

“Did they do anything to you?”

Hero cocked their head. “Like what?”

What a stupid question. Of course not. Hero was still with them. Suspended maybe, but still listed and strong as ever. It was a completely different situation.

“Nothing. I just heard they do tests and things there.”

Supervillain squeezed their shoulder from behind, and Villain slowly released the tension from their muscles.

“Er…” Hero said. “I guess there was a lot of testing to pin down what my powers were. And sometimes I had to take these stabilizing pills. They said maybe I can stop when I turn 21, cause by then my power should be done, um, fluctuating.”

It sounded like someone else’s words. One of those cracked scientists maybe? Or those poster heroes who made their diagnoses more palatable to the public.

Their hands were shuddering. They could feel the finger-weakening tremble as they tried to keep a good grip on the shopping cart’s handle. This was ridiculous. They hadn’t even talked about anything. They’d gone into detail with Supervillain without breaking down, and now they were freaking out over a thought?

“Let’s get something to eat,” Villain said abruptly, shoving their treacherous hands into their pockets. Supervillain smoothly took their place at the head of the cart before Villain could even ask. “What do you guys want? Pizza? Burgers? I’ll buy you a shake, kid.”

“Um…” Hero’s expression twisted apprehensively, as if they expected Villain to spring some sort of trap as soon as they agreed. “Burgers are fine.”

“Burger Shack downstairs then. You guys check out; I’ll go ahead and save some seats.”

Villain didn’t even give a proper goodbye before abandoning the checkout lane and striding out of the store. The busy mall hallway made them more anxious, so they followed the the first bathroom sign they saw and slipped into one of the stalls. Only then did they let their hands free again, watching bitterly as they trembled in the air in front of them.

Stupid. So stupid.

They clasped their fingers together and took a deep breath. Supervillain always said to take deep breaths when they felt bad. It didn’t always work, but…it was better than nothing.

They held the air for a few seconds and then let it out again.

Repeat, Supervillain’s voice echoed comfortingly in their head.

Villain followed the imagined instructions and inhaled again.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The trembling slowly abated, but the pit of chilling fear in their chest stuck like a glob of cold syrup. They wished they could get over this. Why did they have to be this way? If they didn’t get downstairs soon, Supervillain and Hero would beat them to the restaurant, and they’d know. The kid would sense their weakness, they’d get the upper hand, and…

And what were they thinking? This was a kid. A super kid, but still. How could their presence throw them this much off balance? Were they losing it?

They buried they face in their hands, marinating in their own patheticness for several long minutes.

When they finally arrived for lunch, Supervillain and Hero had already ordered.

Part Five

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system

[silky-worm]

Can you please write a part 3 of prompt 42? I know part 2 just came out, 😍😍😆 but I absolutely love this unique storyline! If possible, villain x supervillain fluff please? 🥺

PS. This is my first time sending an ask to anyone on tumblr 😆

I'm you're first ask? I'm so flattered! Of course, I can write part 3, and there most certainly will be villain x supervillain fluff 😏

Part One, Part Two

The sheets rustled softly in the silence as Supervillain rolled over and took Villain in their arms, kissing the back of their slender neck and nuzzling their face into their shoulder.

"Villain?" they murmured muffled into their shirt.

"They're in our living room," Villain responded coldly.

Supervillain paused a moment, letting the gap in conversation be filled with the soft harmony of their breathing. There wasn't really a good response. They'd sort of assumed that once Villain actually talked to the heroling they would soften up, after all, they were a sweet kid, but that obviously was not the case. But they couldn't just throw them out, could they? They'd already promised them shelter. And in any case, how did they turn anyone so helpless, even an enemy, into the street and get over it?

"I'll protect you," Supervillain finally murmured, squeezing Villain a little tighter.

Villain sighed. "That's not the answer I'm looking for. I don't need precautions, I need my home back." They suddenly flipped over, eyes glinting hard in the dark. "This isn't just your house; you can't just invite in whoever you want."

Supervillain swallowed. "I know, but I wasn't sure what you'd say, and I needed to get them out of the cold fast. Their lips were blue, and--"

"And so you brought them home." Villain sighed again, even deeper this time. "Look, I know you're a softie, and I love that about you, but you should have talked to me about this. This is..." they swallowed. "This is the only place on earth where I feel okay, and you made it...not okay."

"I'm sorry."

"But you're not going to ask them to leave."

Supervillain shook their head. "Not tonight."

"Tomorrow?" There was no hope behind that inquiry, simply dry, barren syllables. Villain must have already known the answer.

"I'll start looking for a place," Supervillain said. "If you really hate having them here, then they don't have to stay. I just want to find somewhere for them to go first."

An agonizing pause stretched between them.

"Ok."

Villain flipped back toward the wall.

"Villaaain."

"I already said ok."

"But your still upset."

"I think I have a right to be; it has nothing to do with you."

Supervillain ran their nails up and down Villain's arm. "I'll be as fast I can. And I won't leave you alone with them again. I'll try to get them out of the house during the day too. Maybe they have a knack for infiltration and beating people into submission. I mean they have the skill set--"

Villain reached behind to clap their hand over their mouth, though they missed a few times, fumbling over their ear and their nose before finally blocking off their lips. "They're a hero."

Supervillain gently peeled Villain's fingers free, smiling mischievously. "Right now. But if herowork hasn't treated them well maybe they'd do better on the other side. They could at least give it a try."

"If this adoption idea of yours was to gain a new protogee--"

"It wasn't! It was just a thought..."

Suddenly Supervillain's face was cupped between a pair of cool hands.

"Supervillain," Villain said, incredibly gentle. It was always a wonder to them how their lover could be two drastically different people when it came to their home and work life. They wondered if the world would ever believe that the villain they knew for ripping sinew from bone and bone from joint could be so affectionate. "We're where we are for a reason. Things...twisted us up and made us this way. Don't drag the kid into that mess. They're good where they're at. Maybe not with the agency, but...at least with their morals."

Supervillain raised their brows in the dark, surging against Villain's hands to hover just a breath over their face. "You almost sound heroic."

Villain shoved their face away, but a smile tinged their voice. "Shut up."

"Standing up for people, giving heartfelt speeches, you're a natural."

"Are you going to be quiet or am going to have to do it for you?"

Supervillain smirked. "What are you going to d--"

Villain cut them off with a kiss, long and gentle and a little minty from their toothpaste. When it ended, they snuggled into Supervillain's chest.

"The kid needs some new clothes."

Supervillain blinked. "What?"

"All they have is that hero suit, they can't wear that every day. Or keep sleeping in it."

"I suppose I could pick something up somewhere. How much do they need? Like an outfit?"

"At least two so they can switch between them. And some pajamas. Possibly a coat. Oh, and some underwear."

"Villain." Supervillain felt their face go warm.

"What?"

"I'm not telling them they need new underwear. That's... They barely even know us."

"It's not a big deal; everyone uses it. When you had your oh-so genius idea to adopt them were you just not going to get those things? They're a kid, not a puppy."

"Obviously I know that, it's just...how do I even bring it up? Do I just give them the money and say go pick it out? Or do I sneak it into the cart and avoid the conversation?"

Even in the dark, Supervillain could sense Villain's eyeroll. "Forget it, I'll just have to go with you. Are you busy tomorrow?"

Supervillain gaped. "Not really--"

"Good. I can push off my work, we can go after breakfast."

"But--"

"It's fine, Supervillain, I'll handle it if you're going to make it awkward. You just focus on finding any good deals."

No, it's not that; it's the whole shopping trip. Isn't that going to be confusing? Buying them clothes but also trying to get rid of them?"

"Not if we're upfront about it. I mean...we're a pair of villains. It's not like they actually want to be here permanently, right? They're just taking advantage of the situation until they can get out. We're not so much kicking them out as doing them a favor."

"I guess you're right."

Villain stroked their cheekbone with their thumb. "They'll be fine. And way better off. And I'm not just saying that because I don't like them. What could two villains even do for a hero?"

Supervillain felt what little idealistic hope they had left escape with their heavy exhale. "Nothing good."

Part Four

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie

[silky-worm]

Short Prompt #42

“Supervillain.” Villain’s smooth voice floated like music across the kitchen, dancing past the dirty cutting board and the large pot of soup before settling gracefully in Supervillain’s ear. “Why is there a hero sleeping on our couch?”

Supervillain looked up from the stove with big, pleading eyes that didn’t at all match their gruff exterior. “It was raining, and they were cold.”

“They’re a hero.”

“But they’re just little. And the agency kicked them out of the boarding house because of all the recent city damages, but they don’t have anywhere else to go because they have no family, and now they need a day job along with the hero job so that they can start raising money for their own place, but no one will hire them because you have to be at least 16, and their birthday isn’t until—“

Villain plucked the wooden spoon out of their hands and pressed the rounded end to their spouse’s lips. “And how do you know this?”

Supervillain settled their hands on top of Villain’s tipping the spoon slightly sideways to speak. “We talked, and—“

“Supervillain!”

“What?”

“Don’t be so soft! This kid is manipulating you. What proof do we have that any part of this sob story is real and not a trap to get into our home and slaughter us in our bed.”

Supervillain cupped Villain’s face firmly, half-protective, half-apology. “Heroes have hurt you...”

“That is an understatement.”

“…but I’ll never let anything like that happen to you again. I would never let anything or anyone near you unless I was absolutely sure they were safe. This hero is not like those other ones, I promise.” They stared into Villain’s eyes for several seconds, until the diamond hard gaze began softening into limestone. Then they abruptly turned back to the soup and coughed, “Plus, I already called their social worker and confirmed they’re an orphan.”

Villain whacked Supervillain in the arm with the spoon as hard as they could. “We’re not adopting them.”

“Can we at least discuss it?”

…

Yaaaahs, why didn’t I think of this family dynamic earlier?

Part Two

[silky-worm]

Would you do a continuation of short prompt 42? With the supervillain and villain and kid hero? I come with gift 🍿🍿

Part One

Villain leaned back in the kitchen chair, sharpening the blade of their knife with long, careful strokes. Rain pattered on the windowpanes, and the vague remains of steam in the air made the kitchen feel warm and cozy. It would have been nicer without the snakelet lying in the other room.

That little menace better not wake up.

Villain tapped their foot evenly against the floor and checked the wall clock for probably the third time since Supervillain went out, about an hour ago now.

“Will you just be nice to them when they wake up?" they'd requested. Then, at Villain's annoyed brow raise, "Not...nice, but at least civil? I have a meeting with Other Supervillain, and I don't want them scared off while I'm gone."

“You’re leaving?” Villlain hated the little note of panic edging in on their voice. This was a baby hero after all. Nothing they couldn't handle. It was an insult to their own skills to be so worried.

Of course, Supervillain caught it, and of course, instead of pointing out the silliness, they indulged it. “Do you want to come with me? I suppose we could leave a note.”

Villain's stomach coiled.

“I’m not leaving them alone in my home. I’ll stay.”

And so they had. Stubbornly. Bitterly. Anxiously.

There was just something about having an enemy in their safe space that made the thought of facing them so much worse. It would have been different running into them mid-heist or out on the street.

They rechecked the clock. Minute hand on the 3. An hour and fifteen minutes. Supervillain must be walking back by now, right? Did they remember their umbrella? That rain looked like it was picking up.

“Hi.”

Villain's whetstone slipped.

A horrible grating sound broke the smooth, monotony, and Villain''s arm narrowly escaped being sliced open along the knife's edge only to bash the rounded stone directly into their knee a second later.

Villain yowled, cursing loudly.

"Sorry!" Hero held up their hands in an apologizing-warding motion. Their hair was pasted flat on one side, while the top poofed up in a mess of fluffy tangled curls. "That's my bad."

The villain only responded with a vicious glare, and the little hero winced. At least that was a little satisfying.

Hero swallowed, wetting their lips and curling their fingers in and out of their palms for a couple seconds before carefully pushing on.

"Where's...um..."

"They went out. Villain stuff."

"Right. Of course. That's their job. Your job. Your jobs."

Awkward discomfort twisted their face in several directions, one part of them making an effort to be nonchalant and the other part panicking. Clearly, they hadn't thought through the type of person they were crashing with or how it involved them ethically when Supervillain invited them in.

"That it is," Villain said coldly.

Hero cleared their throat. "I really wasn't expecting...anyone else. Did Supervillain call you to watch me or...?"

"I live here."

"Oh. Oh! I'm sorry! I don't mean to crowd your space. It's just Supervillain said... And I was so tired... And they never mentioned..."

"Stop blathering. It's grating on my nerves."

Hero's mouth snapped shut with an audible clack.

Villain sighed, sliding their knife back into its sheath and striding stiffly across the room to tuck the whetstone back in its drawer. All the while, Hero's big, pathetic eyes watched them move, rising prickles on the back of their neck and being generally annoying.

"What?" Villain snapped.

"Nothing!" They paused. "Are you guys like…”

Hero didn’t seem to know how to finish that question, but their fingers twined together in some resemblance of togetherness.

“Yes.”

“Oh. Cool. I didn’t know that.”

They shoved their hands in their pockets and stared intently at the floor beneath their feet. It was subtle, but Villain noticed the tips of their ears going a light pink.

Minute hand on the 4 now.

Come on, Supervillain, where are you?

They didn’t know anything about entertaining kids , or talking to kids, or anything to do with kids. Especially not a super powered hero kid that could bend them in half with their pinky and may or may not be part of a bigger plot to take them down.

Hero raised their eyes nervously. Their cheeks were pink too. Villain was definitely paranoid, weren’t they?

Villain cleared they throat.

“Apparently, now that you’re awake, I’m supposed to direct you to the soup on the stove.” They motioned lazily to the covered pot and then waved at the cupboards. “Bowls are on the left.”

“Thank you.” Hero shuffled to find a bowl, and for the first time Villain noticed that they were wearing the blue and purple spandex of their Hero uniform.

“Why did you even come here?” Villain said.

Hero cringed, ladle hesitating over their bowl. “I didn’t know what else to do. It was cold, and I was tired, and the offer was right there, and…and…you guys are going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Villain blinked. Soup was spilling over the edges of the ladle. The kid was shivering. Were they more scared than they were letting on?

Villain tried to imagine being an abandoned kid taken in by their enemies. It was hard enough having one in their safe space as an adult.

“We’re not going to kill you,” Villain said. “Supervillain made you a whole stew. They think you’re adorable.”

Hero bit their lip and nodded, quickly finishing filling their bowl and sitting on the farthest end of the table. “I mean…I wasn’t worried at first, but…”

But Villain.

Yeah. They were lucky Hero was stout enough not to have run off by now. Supervillain would have kicked them to the couch.

“Don’t you think your agency will be upset? You’re not being very subtle.”

Hero followed Villain’s finger down to their costume.

“I, um, didn’t have a change of clothes. And they’re mad anyway, right? So…how much more bad can it get?”

They smiled weakly, but Villain knew forced calm when they saw it. Villain wouldn’t press that direction further.

“What happened to your clothes?” they asked instead.

“Well, they were in my dorm, but the agency froze my keycard, and they say I’m suspended from the premises so I can’t pick them up. I-I get it.”

“Over a few buildings?” Villain said in disbelief.

Maybe they said it little heatedly because Hero stared at them with surprise and tension written in their eyes.

“Well, those buildings cost the agency a big chunk of money, and I’m really lucky no one got hurt, so I really just should be thankful it’s only a suspension.”

“Is that what they told you?”

“It’s…it’s what I think.”

Oh really?

“Alright,” Villain shrugged. “You destroyed a lot of buildings. You maybe put people in danger. That’s not exactly recommended. At least from a hero’s standing. But come on, you tore an entire building from its foundation and threw it. Your agency has to at least appreciate your strength. It’s incredible.”

Hero averted their eyes to their soup. Maybe they were uncertain whether they should be accepting the compliment of a villain. “Thank you…”

Villain nodded.

Maybe they could buy them a couple new outfits. Just so they wouldn’t have nothing when they finally convinced Supervillain to turn them out.

As if on cue, the front door hinges squealed, and Supervillain’s confident stride sounded in the hall, pausing in the living room a moment before continuing on to the kitchen.

“Oh good!” Supervillain’s eyes sparked intensely, like a shock of lightning bolts in a blue blue sky. Their coat clung damp on their shoulders and a few strays locks pasted against their temples. “You two met!”

A load of tension Villain hadn’t even realized they’d been holding suddenly dropped from their shoulders.

“We’d already met,” they corrected.

“You know what I mean. How were they, Hero? Were they mean? Did they bully you?

Hero’s relief was almost just as obvious as Villain’s own, a small smile quirking their lip. “No. They were…nice.”

Supervillain’s eyebrows shot up, and they’re eyes tried to catch Villain’s gaze.

Nope. Villain wasn’t doing this. Time to redirect the conversation.

“How was the meeting?”

Supervillain slid into the seat beside Villain, sprawling their legs and sliding halfway down the chair back. “Ugh. Boooring. Other Supervillain is way too direct. ‘Kill them.’ ‘Blow this up.’ There’s no showmanship!”

“You and Other Supervillain are having a team up?”

Villain and Supervillain turned toward Hero at the same time. The little scrap huddled a little closer to the tabletop. They looked like they wanted to disappear.

“Don’t you dare say—“ Villain began.

“You can tell the agency if you like,” Supervillain interrupted with a shrug. “It’ll make it more interesting.”

Hero’s eyes flicked nervously between the two of them. “I don’t have to if—“

“Hero.” It was the same tone Supervillain used on Villain when they were in one of their panics. Firm but warm. “Don’t worry about what you see or hear around us. You are safe here. No matter what.”

Villain held back a biting remark. They weren’t so sure about Supervillain’s promises, but that was probably something to discuss privately. At least the hero looked a little looser. But now they were looking at Villain like they were expecting an answer from them as well. What did the want from them? A hearty welcome and a slap on the back?

Villain cleared their throat. “Yeah. You’re…safe.”

Hero’s weak smile grew a little stronger, and Supervillain smirked.

Ugh, it wasn’t like it was a declaration of friendship or an acceptance for indefinite housing or anything like that.

It just…wasn’t a lie.

Part Three

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax

[silky-worm]

How about: Right Hands power is that they can transfer wounds from other people's body's onto their own, and villain never tells them when they're injured because they don't like seeing right hand hurt

Have a nice holiday!

Beautiful. I love it.

…

“You idiot.”

Villain gasped as Righthand ripped away their hand, yanking their shirt up to their ribs and exposing the badly bandaged stab wound to the world.

“Idiot!” they repeated more vehemently.

“It’s not that bad,” Villain said, despite the fact they could barely sit up right from the pain.

Righthand thumbed the perimeter of the bandages, gentle despite their annoyed tone. “This is the third time I’ve caught you hiding injuries from me. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I can handle a few bumps and bruises.”

They hissed as Righthand pressed their thumb a little too hard into the bandages.

Righthand fixed them with a dry stare. “This isn’t bumps and bruises. How are you supposed to fight if you're still hurting from the last battle?”

“And how are you supposed to work when you’re stealing my wounds all the time?”

"Stealing?" Righthand scoffed, shaking their head as they worked their nail beneath the tape and began slowly, peeling back the gauze. “My job doesn’t require the same physical exertion as yours. I am perfectly fine—“

“Well, I’m not!” Villain snatched their hand, holding it an arm's length in front of them.

Righthand stopped, staring at Villain in wide-eyed surprise. Villain only squeezed their hand tighter and stepped in closer, tipping their chin down to meet their gaze.

“Am I supposed to feel fine pushing the consequences of my own actions onto someone else? Am I supposed to ignore when you’re limping around the lair because I took a fall? Or pretend not to notice when you take breaks from work because the bruises I wasn’t quick enough to dodge are hurting too much? How is any of that fair?"

"Well," Righthand swallowed and vaguely twisted their wrist, testing Villain's grip. "Maybe fair depends on your perspective. It's not fair to you that I suffer from the wounds inflicted on you, but it's not fair to me when you keep your injuries secret, basically disregarding my choice to take them."

Villain stepped even closer, glancing over Righthand's fire-eyed and determined expression before dropping their head into their shoulder.

"It's too much," they mumbled.

Righthand's body lurched, for an instant pulling back from Villain even harder. The next moment they were calm again, at least on the outside. Villain could feel their pulse racing in their wrist.

"What is?" they whispered back.

"The pain. It's too much."

"Are you calling me weak?" Righthand spat loudly, all softness and understanding fled.

Villain wrapped their free hand around Righthand's waist.

"Let me tell you, you jerk. I'm twice as strong as any of your goons, and I'm twice as strong as you! I may not have one of those super flashy powers, big muscles, or whatever else you equate with worth, but I've been doing what I do for a long time, and no one does it better than me. I have more endurance in my pinky than you have in your whole body. So if I want to take away one of your wounds, you're going to sit down and let me handle it. Got that?"

With Villain tucked into their shoulder and wrapped around them, their entire furious speech ended up aimed at the wall ahead of them instead of their leader's face, but the criminal slowly dropped their grip on their hand. They did not, however, back away.

"I don't hide injuries because I don't think you're strong. I do it because I care about you." Villain slowly lifted their head to meet their eyes again. "And seeing you in pain hurts worse than any wound. More if it's because of me."

Righthand flushed at Villain's closeness. Their noses would brush if either of them weren't careful.

"What..." Righthand wet their lips. "What makes you think I don't feel the same. It's my job to keep you healthy. If you're in pain, and I don't do anything, isn't your suffering my fault?"

"It's not--"

"I want to help you!" Righthand interrupted loudly.

Villain's eyes widened, and Righthand ducked their head in embarrassment. Quieter, they said, "I want to save you."

Villain hesitated. Slowly, they hooked their finger beneath Righthand's chin and tilted their face back up at them. "Do you think...we could come to a compromise?"

Righthand narrowed their eyes but nodded.

An hour later, they sat side by side on the lair sofa, twin bandages wrapped around considerably less dangerous wounds.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Villain asked, leaning in closer to eye Righthand's new shallow stab wound.

"Childsplay. I could have tackled the whole thing if you'd let me."

"Don't you dare," Villain said, slapping a hand over their own bandages.

Righthand chuckled lightly. "Calm down. I’m not ‘stealing’ anything, you baby. I swear, sometimes you’re too soft.”

“Only for you.”

Righthand jerked their head toward them.

Villain, traced the line of their jaw. This time Righthand did not attempt to pull away; they even leaned into the touch.

Villain smiled. “Only for you.”

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