#Sociallyanxiouscryptid

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Bridge

CW: Suicide attempt, bruises and signs of torture, saved from a suicide attempt

(Let me know if I need to add anymore content warnings and tags)

Villain finds someone they didn't expect standing on the edge of a bridge

~

Villain rolled the car to a stop as they approached the bridge. It was a small bridge, in a very remote and dense area, the kind of place a villain would choose to be away from people, to ensure secrecy and privacy. And yet here someone stood, kilometres away from the city, alone, staring down at the rushing water below.

Villain looked to their passenger.

“Stay here,” they said, “just in case it’s a trap.”

Passenger nodded, and they both returned to looking at the figure.

If the figure had noticed Villain’s car they showed no sign of it, not even when Villain opened the door and stepped out. Out here silence wasn’t really a thing, the white noise of the torrent, harmonised by the gentle swaying of the trees surrounding them. In any other situation it would be relaxing, here it was heavy, stifling.

Villain approached carefully, steps crunching under the loose tarmac as they spent the time selecting right words to say as they got closer and closer. From this distance they could not see the figure’s face, a hood over their head obscuring most of it. But the figure was small, thin, in a way that could concern Villain. Although at least it meant they would be easy to grab. Light, weak.

Their hand was swollen, Villain could notice, broken for sure, one of the fingers bent a little awkwardly. The sleeves covering their arms were dirty, so was the rest of their clothes, like they had slept in them for a long while, laid on the ground in the dirt and what could be blood. In conclusion, wherever this person came from, it was not a good place.

Villain made it a couple of metres away before stopping, the figure shifting their weight though whether it was because of Villain or not they couldn’t tell. Up until this point they still had not acknowledged them, still just stared down.

“That’s a long way to fall,” Villain said.

The figure’s body stiffened, a tremble running through them before falling completely still. Their shoulders slumped, and Villain recognised complete and utter defeat.

“Do you think it would be enough for me?” Sidekick said.

Villain tried and failed to hide their shock. They took a step closer to the side, tilting their head to see around the hood. But even then, it took Villain a second to recognise Sidekick’s face, the bruising and swelling, the hollowness in their eyes. It took everything within Villain to steel themself, to reign in the shock, to hold back the sliver of amusement, the droplet of rage.

“I see you met Supervillain,” Villain said.

The mere mention of the name seized Sidekick.

“Yes,” they said, barely a whisper. A tear ran down their face. “I told them everything,” they said. “Two weeks and I told them everything and now Hero is…”

They couldn’t finish that sentence, that thought. A sob wracked them, bringing it with devastating pain. They held their ribs, tried sucking in a breath and choked on it.

“Two weeks,” Villain said. “That’s impressive.”

Sidekick managed to steal a breath, felt no relief in it.

“It’s all destroyed,” Sidekick said. “Everything. They took everything. They’ve won.”

Words danced on the tip of Villains tongue, but they held them in. Sidekick’s agency was one of many that existed in this modern world, one that had slowly been creeping up Supervillain’s list. A devastating hit, taking out their agency would be, but a final victory it was not.

“So that’s why you’re here?” Villain asked. “Standing on the side a bridge ready to end it all?”

Sidekick watched the water rush, imagined it whisking them away, the current caressing their wounds, taking their pain.

“Do you think it will work?” They asked.

Villain took a step towards the edge, looked down, stepped back.

“I’ve seen you survive worse.”

Sidekick’s bottom lip quivered.

“Would it be stupid to try anyway?”

“It will hurt,” Villain said.

But the words fell on deaf ears, Sidekick’s eyes glazing over.

Villain lunged as they stepped forward, predictably wrenching back their light weight like a half empty sack of potatoes. Sidekick tumbled over the railing, Villain ready to tackle them further but before the thought could complete Sidekick’s legs gave out.

Villain had heard many sounds of despair before. Heard the wails of grief, of anger, of betrayal, and yet they had never heard something quite as painful as this. Sidekick had, had so much passion in them, so much drive to do good, and here it was, broken.

Sidekick screamed and cried, curling over their knees as they hugged themself. Pure and raw emotion pouring out of them, echoing into the trees and disappearing into the void of the earth. Villain simply watched and waited. They had questions of course, namely how does something like this happen without their knowing? And then there was the part of them taking in the bruises, the torture and pain, and they took it personally. Supervillain knew who Sidekick was, knew how Villain felt about it and still, here they were.

When Sidekick’s breathing began to even out, and the tears dried up, Villain stepped forward and crouched in front of them.

“A hero’s life is a hard one, you put so much on the line, have so many eyes on you,” Villain said, “that’s why we tried to convince you against it, to avoid this.”

Sidekick raised their head, a new emotion in their eyes.

“This wasn’t because of being a hero, this was because of your people.”

“Oh sweetie, not my people,” Villain softly, “I wouldn’t have left you alive, I’m not that cruel.”

Sidekick’s knuckles whitened.

“But you’ve always been bull-headed,” Villain continued, “and you will always look down on me.”

Villain stood, turning slightly to face the car and gesturing for Passenger.

“But that’s ok, unlike you I accepted the state of the world a long time ago.”

Sidekick looked to Passenger as they approached, did their best to sit up.

“What are you doing?” Sidekick asked, trying to stand.

“Pain in my ass or not, I’m not exactly going to let my sibling suffer like this, you’re coming back with me.”

“No,” they said but barely made it to their knees before sucking in a sharp breath.

“You don’t really have a choice,” Villain said, stepping to their side, grabbing Sidekick’s arm and gently helping them stand.

“No,” Sidekick tried to pull from Villain’s grip, only to bump into Passenger, who grabbed their other arm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything. I’ve always wanted an excuse to kill Supervillain. No time like the present to get my name out there.”

Passenger attached a cuff to one of Sidekick’s wrists and a sudden burst of panic surged through them.

Sidekick punched Passenger with their good hand, smacking right into their nose. Blood gushed, Passenger recoiled, and Sidekick spun. Villain grabbed the second hit, but Sidekick need them, following through with a head but that ended up against Villain’s mouth, busting the lip.

Sidekick stumbled a few metres away, wheezing.

Villain laughed. “You may be a hero, but you fight like a villain,” they said, grinning with bloodied teeth.

Everyone stood still for a second, a beat of tension before Sidekick took off, the other two in hot pursuit.

They didn’t make it far, something hitting their legs, sending them tumbling, head bouncing off the hard ground. What little air they had was knocked out of them, and white stars danced in their vision. They could barely feel the hands on them as they arms were cuffed behind their back.

“Really Sidekick, do you always have to make things so difficult?” Villain’s voice appeared. “If you go back out there, you will die, either by your own hand or some opportunistic villain, and I don’t want to have the reputation of having a failed hero sibling. This is for your own good.”

Sidekick was breathless, unable to drag a single coherent thought to another. And yet, Sidekick found themself staring up at Villain, their face filling their vision.

“No,” it was pathetic and small, but still slipped through their lips.

“You really think after all this time, I would hurt you?”

“Yes.”

Villain smirked at that.

“Well then you better behave.”

Sidekick felt themself lifted into the air, the last of their fight leaving them.

[halloiambored]

Thought / Prompt

Eccentric (TBD)

Decorative pillow (TBD)

Emotionless brick wall (TBD)

Happy for you (TBD)

p.t. 2

Hawaiian pizza (continuation)

Abused Hero x Supervillain (3), same characters as Random Snippet #2.

Running Away (1)

Inspirational Reblogs

Individual Works: nobody talks, everyone walks // truly evil // last on the list // also truly evil // beg your pardon // no. // sunshine whumpee // self-sacrificing // sole prisoner // betrayal // never breaks // sacrifice // cheating incident // Logan… heed the tags // they don’t want you // leader

Individual Series: // immortality blows // emir [military whump] // SV-240 // whumping the whumpers // solis // heir of the sword // // surviving alaska winters // blackthorne hall // guns for hire // left behind // never //// the fighter

Blog Masterlists: villain-enthusiast // whump-a-la-mode // yourheartonfire // // whumpwhillow // avvail // livingforthewhump // silver-ink-iron-words // oddsconvert // caffeinewitchraft [only hero x villain] // emmettnet // worldofwhumpcraft // painsandconfusion // redwingedwhump // vigilantetendencies // sociallyanxiouscryptid

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

All eyes on me

Supervillain thought they could rule the world forever, they were wrong

CW: needles, medical procedure, restraints

Supervillain opened their eyes. It was funny because they don’t really remember closing them. Their vision blurred in front of them, sending their head into a dangerous spin. The nausea felt far away, so did the rest of them, their fingers a faint tingle in the vacuum. But slowly it was coming back to them, the cool air against their skin, the ache in their neck, even the sour taste in their mouth.

Then the tightness around their wrists

Rope was a familiar sensation against their skin, however usually it’s the other way around. The rope in their hands, around someone else’s wrists. They were tight, well done. Supervillain couldn’t move, not even a little. It made their hands tingle, but not enough to cut off circulation entirely, just enough to be deeply uncomfortable.

The room kept spinning as Supervillain tried looking up, the lights too bright, colours too muted. A light shifted, their eyes springing with tears that they tried to blink through. Someone shifted, a body near them, their heat startling against the cold.

“Maybe I gave you too much,” a voice muttered. The light shifted further, got closer. Supervillain recoiled.

“Wh-” their tongue was cotton, thick and tangled. They flinched, head lolling to the side, but a hand caught their skin.

“You don’t recognise me, do you?”

Supervillain still couldn’t see let alone recognise an asshole with a torch. They tried saying as much but all that tumbled out were half baked consonants.

The light vanished and so did the body, a whisp of a sigh falling from Supervillain’s lips. They weren’t sure where the fucker went but they took the time to breath, sucking in slow and measured breaths that filled their body.

Water poured over them, icy and biting and the slow measured breath turned into a gasp, followed by splashes of liquid that caught in Supervillain’s throat. They coughed, the thing shaking through their whole body as it quickly turned into a fit.

The hand came back, another rubbing their shoulder as the fit eased. Supervillain coughed up the last of the water, blinking into clearer vision.

A person stepped in front of them, smiling.

“Is that better?” They said. “Head a little clearer?”

“Le-”

“Ah,” they said, hand snaking out, pressing against Supervillain’s mouth. “I want you to recognise me first. I want you to remember.”

Supervillain stared into their face, their eyes. Nothing. Just another person for them to use, another person for them to control like everyone else. Something in the back of their mind shifted. Their eyes were pretty they guess, had they dated them? Rejected them? Were they about to be bested by a miffed ex?

You’re cute.

The memory came back all at once.

Too bad you’re in my way.

Supervillain’s eyes widened, but not nearly as much as Villain’s grin.

“Surprise.”

Villain stepped back, removing their hand but Supervillain was too shocked to speak.

“Wow,” Villain breathed. “You really thought you’d never see me again. That you could just lock me up and throw away the key.”

Supervillain truly had. Why wouldn’t they? It had never happened before, was supposed to never happen at all. Villain was barely recognisable now, worn, their body tired but eyes glistening with a mad delight.

“How?” It was the only think Supervillain could think, the only thing that mattered.

Villain delighted in the question, picking at the long sleeve of their shirt before beginning to roll it up.

“It took a lot of time,” they said, the scars on their arm slowly revealing. “A lot of experimentations and even more mistakes.” They rolled the sleeve up above their elbow, began on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to experiment on yourself? To cut into your own bone marrow?”

“Impossible,” Supervillain said.

“It should be, yes,” Villain nodded finishing the other sleeve. “But when you have time and immortality on your side you can get very creative.”

Supervillain just stared.

“Its understandable, why you were so cocky. Why you thought you could win,” Villain said, now pacing around Supervillain. “You have this power at your fingertips, one so strong and seemingly so reliable. You had no reason to think it would fail. No one can fault you on that.”

Villain stood somewhere behind Supervillain and it made the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end. A shiver ran through them and suddenly a true sense of danger sunk into their gut.

“Let me go,” Supervillain demanded, strong and powerful.

Nothing. Supervillain’s ears rung as they waited, skin itched ready for the ropes to come undone.

Villain laughed, a mad and joyous thing.

“I wasn’t entirely certain it would work,” they beamed, walking back to the front. “Sure, I could break your old demand, but would my alterations hold up to new ones? Could I disobey you?” Villain grinned ear to ear like a giddy child. “Oh I have waited so, so long for this day, to see that look in your eyes. Does it make you feel helpless? Feel weak?”

“Let me go,” Supervillain said again, firmer, pushing more intent into their words. Nothing.

Villain cackled.

“How did you enjoy the spotlight hey? The title world’s most dangerous villain?”

“Let me go.” Supervillain yelled, chest tightening.

Villain was on them, hands pressed against their wrist, face millimetres away.

“Oh but sweetie I am having so much fun. You had the arrogance to think you could take my spotlight, but now it’s my turn, and I am hungry for that light on my face.”

“This is impossible.”

“It was inevitable,” Villain stepped back. They wondered across the room, somewhere behind Supervillain.  

“Even if I can’t control you,” Supervillain said, “I still control everyone else. You won’t be able to move in this world without me knowing about it.”

Villain hummed, “oh you will know about every move I make, right up to your last breath.”

Supervillain tugged against their restraints.

Villain came back around with a needle in their hand, and without a word they grabbed Supervillain’s bicep, steadying the arm as they slipped it into the vein, precise and practiced.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m solving the problem you presented,” Villain said.

Villain carefully drew the blood, Supervillain watched it spill into the vial, head getting light. Villain filled four vials before removing the needle, not gentle in the slightest.

Supervillain arched themself, straining their neck as much as possible to see where Villain went, and as they did, they caught a glimpse of the entire room behind them. They were in a laboratory, Supervillain positioned over near a wall, everything around them pushed back.

Villain came back, still behind them though, something else in their hand.

“What is this?” Supervillain said.

Villain looked back around the room.

“Don’t you recognise it?”

Supervillain didn’t.

“This is the hole you tried to bury me in.”

Some sharp went into Supervillain’s back and the pain was blinding.

“Hold still,” Villain said, “I don’t want to damage anything.”

Supervillain did, only because every move brought more agony. Their nails dug into the chair, teeth about to shatter as they felt something move about, before being withdrawn. Supervillain gasped, choked on their spit.

“You’re doing so good,” Villain purred.

“They will come find me,” Supervillain growled. “And when they do, I will cut you up into tiny pieces and-”

Villain snatched their hair and wrenched their head back.

“No one is coming. No one cares about you,” Villain hissed. “That’s the thing about your power, no one is loyal to you, and because of your arrogance you had no safety measures in places. No one will come for you because they are all too busy carrying out your demands and will continue to do so until you issue new ones.”

Supervillain stared, the words sitting heavy on their chest, sinking deep into their stomach. There had to at least be someone, right? They hadn’t controlled everyone…

They had, they truly had. Everyone who worked under them, every enemy who encountered them, they were all under Supervillain’s control. Supervillain never gave anyone the chance to come in willingly, they didn’t need to. It was why they were the world’s most feared villain.

“You have come so far, and yet you’re still so ignorant, a baby in this world.” Villain tapped Supervillain’s cheek, letting go of their hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what a real villain is.”

They came back around the front.

“I will remind the whole world what a real villain is,” Villain grinned.

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Found Part 3

Here we go folks, part 3. This one is kind of long and I thought about breaking it up but it’s not like I am lacking ideas for this, so enjoy this longer piece. 

CW: Not too much that I think needs a warning happens here. Villain insults and threatens them a lot. They change bandages, talk about pain meds, mention of alcohol. 

Part 1

Part 2

~

Civilian ended up falling asleep on the armchair. They had been debating whether or not they should, since the likelihood of Villain trying to force himself to move too much was high. In the end the decision was made for them after they closed their eyes for a split second and then woke up to the morning sun.

To their surprise Villain was asleep across from them, hands gently resting on his chest, rising and falling slowly. They watched him a moment , eyes trailing over the bruises on his face, the swelling around his eyes having gone down completely. His bandages looked clean and fine, no bleed through, a nicely wrapped Villain laying on their couch.

Civilian rubbed their hands over their face, so much for avoiding trouble.

They stood, closing their laptop and putting it on the dining table. Some breakfast, that will make them feel better. They went into the kitchen and pulled out a pan, turning on  the heat as they searched the fridge for bacon, grabbed the eggs along the way.

As they cooked they heard a grunt from the couch and took a moment to step away and peer over the bench.

“You better not be trying to sit up by yourself again,” they said, watching him indeed attempt that.

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Do you want my help?”

“I thought we already established that, no.”

Civilian raised my brow, “do you need my help?”

He couldn’t really turn to look at them, but the silence spoke enough. Civilian flipped the bacon before leaving, rounding the corner to see Villain struggling to prop himself up on his arm. They waited a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to snap again before gently grabbing his arm, supporting his wait as they eased him up.

Villain held his breath the whole way, releasing it an exhausted puff as, together, they made it up. Civilian let him catch his breath.

“Do you need some water?”

Villain’s jaw set, his fist curled in, white.

“Yes,” he ground out.

Civilian simply nodded and left again. They grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and this time they opened up another drawer and took out a silicone straw. Vilian eyed it before taking it, and Civilian watched with eagle focus as Villain took the weight of the glass, using both hands to hold it up as he drank. Half way through his hand began to shake and Civilian reached out, supporting the glass. Villain glared but did not argue as he continued drinking, and when he was done Civilian uncuirled their hand and let Villain rest the glass in his lap.

An exhuastion claimed Vilian’s features and he leant back against the couch, slowly taking in a breath. Civilian walked back to the bacon, took out the cooked bits and flopped in some raw ones before moving over to the medicine cabinet. They grabbed a box.

“It’s not as strong as what hospitals will give you but better then the basics,” they said walking back.

Villain eyed them, scoffed. “Like I’m going to trust that.”

“It’s a sealed packet of meds, I don’t exactly keep a press or whatever in my apartment, I’m not some estranged mastermind. Their prescription pain killers, they can make you a little drowsy and a little nauseous if your body doesn’t like them but that’s it.”

Villain stared at the packet, things flickering through his expression, little micro flinches before he turned his head.

“No,” he said.

Civilian sighed. “Fine, but if you want them, they are here,” They placed them on the bench behind him, “only two at a time, spaced 6 hours a part.”

Villain showed no interest, and Civilian worked their jaw, struggling not to say anything. They took a breath, went back into the kitchen and continued cooking. They put some toast in the toaster while they cooked the eggs, leaving them just a little runny, but hard enough for minimal mess on a clumsy persons lap. They thought about more but didn’t want to overwhelm Villain. If it had been a while since he’d properly eaten then eating too much wouldn’t be of help to him. Civilian severed everything up and walked back out.

“Breakfast,” Civilian said as they held out the plate.

Villain eyed it. They could tell he debated saying no, but his body had to have been screaming for more food, and protein was only going to do him good in this state. Silently he took it, though Civilian helped him lower it to his lap as the same tired arm shook again. They propped the cushion under the plate, and he balanced the food there, picking up the knife and fork. They really should have a lap tray or something… maybe they could go out and buy one, not that leaving him alone sounded like a good idea.

Civilian took their breakfast to the coffee table and sat on the ground in front of it, opening their laptop again. Out of the corner of their eye, Civilian could see Villain glancing at them, more questions on his tongue.

“What’s up,” Civilian asked, looking to him.

He looked to the computer. “What do you do on that?”

Civilian regarded their computer, their answer, and looked back to him.

“Important and secret work,” they said.

Villain glared.

“Really? You want me to be truthful and yet you’re going to lie to me?”

“Not a lie, it’s important to me and a secret from you,” Civilian smirked. When that didn’t amuse him, Civilian continued. “I’m a freelance editor and ghost writer.”

Villain thought about it. “So what you write things for no recognition?” He said.

Civilian shrugged, “recognition isn’t everything. I quite like being a ghost.”

“Ah, so it’s the power trip then, getting control over other’s words without anyone ever knowing,” Villain said.

Civilian’s brows furrowed.

“You are aware not everyone is a villain or a hero. Some people are just people and are perfectly happy with their mundane lives.”

“They may not be a villain or a hero in the larger sense, but on the inside everyone has a motive, they have a want they are trying to fill.”

“Yes, and my motive is getting to create things without the fanfair of the public knowing who I am. I find it fun, simple as that.”

As much as Villain tried, he could not find a lie.

“You’re strange,” he said.

“I’m strange?” They raised brow, “I feel like I am completely reasonable.”

“Everyone thinks they are reasonable,” Villain said.

“Then how can anyone be strange?”

Villain rolled his eyes, “that’s a none question to try and make yourself sound complicated.”

Civilian turned themself to him.

“So everyone is exactly the same and fits perfectly into a model of existence that only some people magically don’t match?”

Villain opened his mouth, but they kept talking.

“My point is everyone is different and everyone is unique, holding on to ideas of ‘normal’, especially in our world, is useless and restricting.”

Villain shook his head, “everyone may be detailed differently, but at the end of the day, deep down they are all the same. Desperate and greedy and ready to betray their friends the moment they need to.”

“I think that says more about you then it does anyone else,” Civilian said, turning back to the computer.

Villain hesitated, he had words in his mouth but his attention was pulled by the thoughts in his head. He had been betrayed many times, by many people, people he had thought had his back until they very end. They hadn’t, no one had. He was a villain and he was left in the dirt like one, so why would anyone else treat him differently? Villain found himself glaring at Civilian, though they had no part in the direction of his mind. He didn’t want to be thinking about these things, contemplating them and yet here he was, contemplating, and somehow it was their fault.

Villain turned his attention back to his food and the conversation dropped.  

This pattern of events continued for the next few days. Civilian would wake up, make some food, they’d have a stare off, but eventually Villain would eat and Civilian would work on their laptop until lunch time before prepping more food, all the way to dinner. The armchair became their new bed as well, too afraid he would try and do something if they weren’t in the room. Namely, get up. They had given Villain a pile of books, which he had of course refused at first, but boredom eventually made him give in.

That happened a lot, and Civilian got very good at being patient, and especially good at ignoring threats and insults.

“This (food) looks like a child’s science experiment.”

“Do you even know what you are doing?”

“Look at you, so kind and compassionate, what will your friends think when they find out you’re looking after the enemy?”

“You will pay for your disrespect.”

“Be careful or I will give you a reason to be so clumsy.”

And many more.

Had they been said at any other time, in any other situation they may have seemed even slightly threatening, but they felt so hollow and empty it amused Civilian more the anything. They were said out of pain and embarrassment and Civilian could read as much on his face. Smiling and laughing at him didn’t help that’s for sure, but they couldn’t help it, they were such blatant lies, such a desperate defence. However, they did get tiresome.

Civilian had moved the coffee table again and had a pile of fresh bandages on it. Villain sat rigid and straight as Civilian carefully unwrapped the bandages, moving as gentle as possible, but every little bump and tug sent new waves of pain through him.

After one particularly hard tug he snatched up their wrist. 

“Be more gentle will you,” he snapped, “a dog could do this better.”

And that was it. Civilian glared, pulled their arm out of his grip and dropped the half unravelled bandage onto the couch.

"You know what? Fine then,” they stood up. “You fucking do it then, see how well you do.” They pushed the coffee table edge right up against the couch. “I’ll go cook dinner, unless you think you can do that too?”  

Villain said nothing to that, just picked up the bandage off the couch.

“Fucking asshole,” Civilian muttered, storming off into the kitchen.

Villain waited for Civilian to definitely be gone before trying. He looked down, tried to, at what he had left to go but his face ached and neck twanged in pain and he withheld a groan as he looked back up. He tried reaching behind him but immediately his ribs took his breath away and that plan failed. Instead, he let go of the little bundle in his hand and found the loose layer on his chest, pulling it, the bundle unrolling beside him until he had it bunched in his hands.

It was frustratingly slow, but at least he was doing it, and gently he kept going, a little smug smile finding his lips. Cool air licked at his skin as he finally reached the last layer, his breath now short pants, arms aching. He was exhausted, and when he finally got all the bandages off he wanted to collapse back against the couch. His back ached, ribs sang, everything was hurting now really, and that wasn’t even the hardest part.

Villain ignored the thought that Civilian would already be halfway done now and reached forward for a new bandage. Once again he sucked in a sharp breath, stopping as his stomach twisted. He took in a longer breath, held it, reached forward slowly and wasn’t sure which felt worse.

He could hear Civilian in the kitchen and his jaw tightened. Were they just there to see whether or not he could actually do this? To listen to him struggle before laughing at him and intervening?

Villain snatched a bandage off the table and began unwrapping the plastic. He would prove them wrong, not that he needed to, he had nothing to prove. He was Villain, that was enough. But he would prove them wrong.

The darkness startled him, Civilian too as they swore, a pan clattering loudly to the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” they groaned.

A thick lump formed in  Villain’s throat and his heart ran like a rabbit across a field. He peered into the darkness, the void thick and pressing around him. Was it the heroes? Had they found them? Villain found himself unable to move, unable to think.

A light turned on next to him, Civilian’s face illuminated in the darkness as they placed a camping lamp on the table.

“You alright?” They asked.

“Fine,” he snapped.

They said nothing to that, pulled out another torch and turned it on.

“We aren’t being attacked,” they said and for some reason that made Villain relax. “I’m gonna go and see what’s going on though, will you be ok?”

Villain despised the genuine kindness in their voice.

“Of course I will,” he said.

Civilian once again did not say anything, only eyed him, before taking their torchlight back into the kitchen. He could hear them rummage through something, sounded like somewhere in the corner of the kitchen. And then, to Villain’s surprise, he heard the familiar unsheathing of metal, and not like a knife coming out of a knife block.

Nothing to worry about?

Villain tried to turn and see them. but between his body and the darkness he got nothing before they disappeared out of the apartment. The lump sat heavy in his throat, but he focussed on the bandages in his hand. He took the plastic off and threw it to the side, pulling out the end of the bandage.

He went to start, but then hesitated as a new problem arose. Unlike when it was already on him, Villain had nothing to help him pull the bandages around behind him, and his inability to reach behind his back had not changed.

But he was Villain and god damn it he could attend to his own wounds. With one hand Villain held the end of the bandage against him and with the other he moved it to the side of him, reaching as far as he could before blinding pain threatened him. Then, he threw the bundled bandage behind him. It bounced on the couch, rolled to the back and switching the hands holding the end, he picked it up. First layer complete. A stupid smirk took his face, and he imagined Civilian coming back, finding Villain with fresh new bandages and a drink in his hand, smirking like a glum idiot.

Villain brought the bandage around again, prepared himself for another throw, except this time the bandage did not roll to the back of the couch. Instead, it bounced off the couch, rolling mockingly away from him.

Villain glared at it, curses flying through his head as he tried to pull the bandage back towards him, only for it to continue unrolling itself. With no choice he continued until finally he hand a pile of unravelled bandage in his hands, and pent up frustration steaming inside of him. Wanting to get this done before Civilian returned, Villain continued the process, now dealing with an unruly pile rather than a contained roll, but with persistence and strained patience, he did it.

Victory blossomed in his chest and he pushed through the pain to look down at himself. The victory withered and died. It was an absolute mess. He had not thought to look out for twists in the bandage, and even without that they were much too loose to provide any benefit whatsoever.

Worst of all he had forgotten to change the pads underneath it all, too focussed on the wrap itself. The thought of unravelling it all, and repeating that whole process exhausted him even more, not to mention the pain he was already in from moving so much. Villain wanted to punch something, break it, strangle it, destroy something. But instead, he was stuck there, helpless.

And of course, the door opened. Perfect, of course they’re back.

“We’re definitely not being attacked,” they said, returning whatever they had taken from the kitchen. “But we’re not going to have power for a bit. Someone crashed into a power pole and took out the whole bloody thing.”

He listened to their footsteps approach, grit his teeth as their light met him. They looked to the bandage, back to him.

“Would you like some help?”

Villain said nothing but picked up the loose end that had already fallen out and held it out for them.

Civilian placed the torch on the table, its light shining onto the wall. They undid it all, removed the pads underneath and replaced them. Civilian didn’t say anything the entire time, neither did Villain. I took them not even a couple of minutes, and once done they stood, and picked up all the rubbish, taking it and their torch into the kitchen.

“Looks like we’re just going to have sandwiches for dinner. I have peanut butter, jam, cashew spread or vegemite, which would you prefer?”

“I don’t care,” Villain said. In all honestly he felt too exhausted to eat, but that’s exactly why he should eat.

Civilian didn’t respond and started moving about the kitchen. A few minutes later they came around the corner with two plates, a peanut butter sandwich for him and vegemite for them. Instead of taking it to their armchair, like he expected, Civilian placed the plate down on the coffee table and walked over to the TV cabinet across the room. They opened it, revealing a whole collection of board games and took out a deck of cards.

“Want to play?” They asked as they returned.

“Not particularly,” he said taking a bite of sandwich.

Wordlessly they sat down and began setting up a game of solitaire. Villain had played once before, like anyone had when it came with their computer back in the day. He remembered the vague rules, the timer. It had never interested him much back then, but watching Civilian play was a whole other experience. This wasn’t a casual game, nor a slow game. Villain watched as Civilian basically glanced at cards and immediately gave them a home, making suits faster then he had ever thought one could. It was skill, clearly, and he could tell they had done it a lot.

“I take it you don’t have many friends.”

They glanced at him. “How do you figure that?”

“No one gets that good at solo games if they have a lot of friends.”

“Well that’s stereotypical, maybe I just like Solitaire?” They said. “But you are right. People are complicated and difficult and I’d rather be working or doing things at home then suffer through that.”

Villain scoffed, leant back into the couch as carefully as he could. “So that’s why your bedside manner is so bad,” he said.

Civilian glared, “don’t start being an ass again, I’m not in the mood.”

But Villain was in the mood. “So what, you just don’t like people? You work all day, sleep all night and repeat it all the next day, doesn’t that get boring?”

Civilian said nothing.

“Have you ever even been to a party?”

“It’s not my scene.”

Villain scoffed, “of course its not. I bet you don’t drink either, you’re just the perfect little citizen who follows all the rules and doesn’t cause trouble.”

Civilian looked to him. “Except when I harbour wanted criminals,” they said.

Villain paused, that was a good point. The perfect little citizen would have had Villain arrested by now, if not left them for dead in the first place. And previously they had said they don’t even trust the heroes. They don’t trust heroes, but they take in injured villains…

“Whatever, your life is still boring.”

“Good thing you aren’t living it.”

Villain said nothing after that, just watched them play their boring game in the glow of the LED lamp. A lingering thought nudged at him, taunted him.

Boring, or peaceful?

~

Hope you folks enjoyed this. As always some parts I am unsure of so if you liked it let me know!

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[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Tit for Tat

Supervillain has been captured by the heroes with the help of Villain, but things are not what the seem.

CW: Manipulation, threats, vomiting, pushing oneself too far and to injury, violence, gun

~

Supervillain had wondered how they would eventually get captured. They knew it was a possibility, in their line of work it’s always a possibility and while they had done everything they could to ensure it wouldn’t happen, it did. They had thought maybe it would be after a long and exhausting fight with Superhero, maybe an ambush or something big and dramatic like that.

They never thought it would be as quiet and quick as it was. A person Supervillain had never seen before appeared in their office, leaning on a cane, dressed in a tailcoat.

 One touch from them and Supervillain was transported into the very cell they were sat in, surrounded by cement walls and a single glass door. It was impressive to be honest, to be trapped so quickly and effortlessly. Supervillain wasn’t even that mad. They learnt the person was Villain, not that, that meant much to Supervillain. They had never heard the name before, not even heard of a person with their power before.

It was clear that they weren’t willingly working for the Heroes, just brought in for the powers, probably having made some sort of deal. It was interesting to say the least, Supervillain was enraptured by the mystery, wanted more then anything to know more.

In the quiet of the cell Supervillain’s ears rung. The worst part is that no one had even come to see them yet, not to boast or to mock or even interrogate them. It had been a day, at the least, and other then a slot that opened in the wall to deliver them food, literally nothing had happened. It was disappointing actually.

The ringing in their ears  was growing louder, more rhythmic. Supervillain frowned, stood from the uncomfortable cot and walked towards the glass door. Somewhere far above them, an alarm blared.

A quiet woosh made Supervillain turn and their brows raised as they watched Villain appear out of thin air, little whisps of darkness dissipating around them as they turned and vomited into the corner of the room.

Supervillain’s eyes fell to the thick electronic collar around their neck that was flashing with red lights, then after a moment faded.

Villain turned to them, wiped their mouth.

“I don’t have much time,” they said.

“Enough time to tell me why you just threw up in my cell? I have to sit with that smell you know.”

There was no patience in Villain’s expression.

“I will get you out of here, but I need your help if I do.”

“What kind of help?”

Villain’s cane moved so fast and with so much force it startled Supervillain as it hit their chest, pushing them against the glass wall.

“I will give you your freedom back, but first you have to promise to help me, or I will leave you here to die with the heroes.”

Supervillain raised their brows, eyes searching the desperation in Villain’s face that they failed to hide. Supervillain smirked.

“Is that right? It seems like leaving me here might hurt you more then me.” They said.

“They are on their way here right now, if you don’t agree you won’t get another chance.”

Supervillain didn’t falter. “It’s a good lie, anyone else would believe you.”

Villain grit their teeth, head suddenly darting to the side staring at the cement wall, watching something. They looked back to Supervillain. Villain took in a breath.

“Please, I need your help, but I need your guarantee that once this is all over, we are done.”

That made Supervillain grin. “Is that the part of the deal Superhero went back on? Did they enjoy your usefulness too much.”

Villain swallowed, “yes, and they have something very important to me that I need help getting back.”

They glanced again, urgency increasing.

“Make the deal,” Villain growled.

Supervillain just smiled.

“Fuck,” Villain cursed, retracting the cane and grabbing Supervillain.

They both vanished.

And appeared in a much different hallway, much more like one you’d find in an office building. Villain collapsed, using their cane to prop themself up as the collar lit up again.

Supervillain looked up from them, just in time to meet a pair of eyes as they rounded the corner. The hero just about shit themself when they came face to face with Supervillain, turning on their heel, but Supervillain was on them before they could even make a step.

Villain composed themself, pushing themself up shakily as they watch a body fall away from Supervillain. Fuck. Supervillain turned back to them.

“Feeling better?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” Villain stood fully, face pale and sweaty, but at least standing.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t repay the kindness paid to me?”

Villain’s jaw set. “This is why I hate people like you, why I left.”

Villain started down the hallway, the way the Hero now lay, and Supervillain followed.

“You sound like a very interesting person, why don’t I know who you are?”

Further down the hallway a group of armed Heroes stepped out of an elevator, pointed down at Villain and Superhero.

“It’s a mystery,” Villain said.

The pair and the group crashed together, Villain swinging the handle of their cane into someone’s face and then swung around, cracked into some ribs, swung down to take out some legs. They moved in a fluid movement of grace and power.

Supervillain in contrast was pure brute force, like a hammer through glass ploughing through the crowd. The pair made it to the other side leaving a pile of bodies behind them.

“You’re pretty good,” Supervillain smiled at them, “and this is without your powers?”

“Shut up,” Villain said and kept walking. “It’s not like you’ve had to use your powers yet.”

“Mm, true but I’m me.”

Villain rolled their eyes. They kept moving, Villain leading the way, moving quickly and quietly. They stopped at one point, made Supervillain crouch down before Supervillain was even aware of what it was they were hiding from. But then footsteps reached their ears, and when they looked down at Villain they could see Villain tracking something, their eyes following a path Supervillain couldn’t see. Interesting.

Villain stood back up without hesitation and Supervillain had to move quickly to keep up. Villain didn’t even glance around the next corner before walking out and stopping by a door.

“Kick this down,” they said.

“No please?”

“Kick it down before they come back.”

Supervillain sighed, “so rude,” they took a step forward and with one movement kicked the door off its hinges.

Villain moved in, not even looking around, and bee lined for one cabinet.

Supervillain on the other hand, gaped. One wall of the room was filled with computers screens, a desk at the bottom of it littered with papers and keyboards, the other side lined with shelves and cabinets holding various devices that Supervillain quickly lost interest in. They stared at the screens, pictures of people, footage following them. One screen in particular caught their eye, a newly familiar face projected onto it, a profile beside it.

The screen turned off.

Supervillain turned to Villain who was now beside them.

“We don’t have time for that,” Villain said.

They turned and went back to the cabinet they were working on.

“What is all this?” Supervillain asked.

Villain didn’t say anything, fiddling with a lock on the front of the cabinet. Supervillain sighed and stepped forward, grabbing the lock and snapping it off. Villain stared at it, then without another word opened the cabinet and started rummaging through it.

“Really? No, thank you?”

No response.

Supervillain wondered back to the other side of the room to the remaining computer screens. Clearly people being tracked, which Supervillain was aware the heroes were in the habit of, but not to this extreme. People without even an ounce of criminal history being monitored, threat levels being associated to. What was Superhero doing here? Why did they care about everyday civilians?

“Fuck’s sake,” Villain growled, slamming the cabinet closed.

“Not finding what you’re looking for?”

Villain glared at him, “I-” their eyes widen and before Supervillain can even comprehend the movement they vanish before their eyes. Villain’s presence appears beside Supervillain, and they grab them. Even with Villain’s speed they weren’t fast enough, the explosion tearing through the room.  

They both went flying, crashing into the opposing wall, dust and rubble thrown everywhere. Supervillain recovered first, grabbing Villain and picking them up like a ragdoll. They moved through the dust, light beaming through as heroes poured into the room. Supervillain grabbed the nearest one, pulling them into a headbutt that shattered the hero’s nose. The room shifted suddenly, and Supervillain stumbled as they appeared in another room, hero still in their grip, barely conscious.

Supervillain pushed them to the side, looked down at Villain as they vomited blood.

“You really need to stop doing that,” Supervillain said, letting them down. “That can’t be good for your health. How are you even overriding it?”

Villain spat blood from their mouth but said nothing.

“Where are we now?” Supervillain asked looking around.

Villain looked around, unsure at first, “this way.” They struggled to their feet and started in a direction. Supervillain eyed them.

“I am very close to loosing my tolerance of being in the dark,” Supervillain said, following after them.

Villain staggered down a hallway, stopped at the sight of more heroes. Supervillain took care of them, and they kept moving.

“We’re almost there,” Villain said.

Supervillain looked at them, their face progressively getting paler, the sweat sitting on their brow. They didn’t look good.

“Where is there?”

Villain just kept moving but Supervillain grabbed their arm, pulled them back. Villain’s vision swam and they leant back against the wall.

“Ok that’s the end of my patience. Tell me now or I leave you here and break out of here myself.”

“We don’t have time for you to get a whole debrief,” they ground.

“Well make time, where are we going?”

Villain opened their mouth.

“My office.”

Both their heads whipped around to see Superhero standing at the end of the hallway.

Supervillain let Villain go.

“So, this is why you needed me,” Supervillain said. Their attention turned to Superhero. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” they said, “thought this would be a bit below you.”

“Oh no, I have all the time in the world for you,” Superhero’s eyes drifted to Villain. “And you. How are you feeling there Villain, you don’t look so good.”

Panting, Villain raised their middle finger.

“Tsk, so disrespectful. You see what I am working with here?” they shook their head, “I try to be kind, and this is what I get.”

“Where are they,” Villain snarled.

Superhero nodded to the left. “They are down that hallway, but you already know that. You also know that there are three guards and myself, so I am assuming your plan is to send Supervillain here after me, use what limited power you have to get to them and risk killing yourself to get them out. Does that sound about right?”

Villain’s jaw tightened.

“I thought as much,” Superhero said. “How about-”

“How about you shut the fuck up,” Villain growled, “I am not making any deals and I am not listening to another word out of your mouth.”

“Mm, that may be an issue. Because I think you want to know what I have to say.”

Villain glared.

“What have you done?”

Superhero smiled, shrugged.

“Alright I am feeling a little left out here,” Supervillain said, stepping in front of Villain. “How about you give me some attention.”

“Oh, gladly,” Superhero grinned. “Though I will be honest, I was enjoying seeing you in a cage.”

“You knew I would never be in there long,” Supervillain said.

“Yeah, but I’d hoped for at least a couple of days. This is just pathetic.”

“That describes you well.”  

“Tch.”

The two clashed sudden and violent. It was all Villain could do to stagger out of the way. Every move was beginning to be an effort, and a new wave of nausea was threatening them.

Supervillain and Superhero battled, crashing holes in the walls, shaking the very room itself with every contact. Villain saw an opening and tried for it, regretted it.

In that moment Superhero kicked Supervillain across the room and turned to Villain, pummelling them into the wall, hand on their head. The shock reverberated through Villain, through their bones and they wheezed.

“You really think its going to be that easy?” Superhero hissed, “that I won’t find you again?”

Superhero pulled their head forward and smacked it back.

“You really think Supervillain is your answer?”

If Villain had words, they couldn’t find them.

Supervillain yanked Superhero back and Villain crumpled to the floor.

“You seem desperate for their attention,” Supervillain said. “Is there something I am missing?”

“I just know a good pawn when I see one.”

Villain tried picking themselves up, but the room was swaying beneath them. There was blood on the back of their head, in their mouth. Supervillain crashed into the wall beside them, glancing at them only a second before avoiding a punch that went through the wall between them.

“You don’t treat your pawns very well.”

“I do when they behave,” Superhero said.

Supervillain lunged, Superhero ducked, and a gunshot halted everything.

Both Superhero and Supervillain paused mid beating. Their heads turned to the hallway the sound came from, the direction of Superhero’s office. A second gunshot, then in quick succession a third. Silence. Footsteps.

Curious, Superhero arched themself around the corner, recoiling back as a bullet flew past their head, embedding in the wall behind them.

Supervillain took an educated guess, taking the chance to smack Superhero over the back of the head. They staggered and Supervillain grabbed Villain and hauled them up, rushing around the corner.

Supervillain came face to face with a person, Partner, gun steadily aimed. Behind them a young child cowered, covering their ears.

“You must be the leverage against Villain,” Supervillain said.

 Partner’s eyes shot to Villain, who was awkwardly held up by Supervillain’s arm.                It took all their will power not to drop the gun then and there, to grab them and take them away. Villain tried pushing themselves out of Supervillain’s grasp but they held on tighter.

“Nuh, uh, the deal was you get me out of here.”

Behind them Superhero was collecting themself.

“You can’t,” Partner said.

“I have to,” Villain panted.

Villain held out their hand, and there was no time for hesitation. Partner grabbed the child, then Villain and the collar lit up.

They appeared somewhere outside, air crisp and light, sun slowly setting. Supervillain let Villain go, let them collapse into Partner’s arms who took them tightly, re-aiming their gun at Supervillain’s head.

“This is the part where you leave,” they growled.

Supervillain cocked their head. “I’m not sure you want that.” They gestured to Villain.

Partner looked down at Villain, flattening their hand against their back. Their very still back.

“Villain?” Partner breathed.

Quickly they laid Villain down, fingers pressed into their neck. Nothing.  

“I can help,” Supervillain said, “I can save them.”

Partner looked up at them, fear and anger.

“At what cost.”

Supervillain gave a small shrug. “Just one favour, that’s all. It’s the least they can do for the mess they caused.”

Partner glared, jaw tight. There was no thinking about it, no choice to make.

“Please,” they said.

Supervillain scooped Villain up.

“We better be quick then.”

~

Hope you enjoyed!

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Found

Civilian doesn’t like trouble, but they also don’t like dead bodies and the body in the alleyway is very close to being dead.

CW: Wounds, stitches, blood, bruises, broken bones, beaten up, medical stuff, knife

~

There was no reason Civilian should have stopped by the alleyway. If ever asked they wouldn’t know what explanation to give because truly they did not know why they stopped. But they did, and in the deep silence of the night they had heard a faint, ragged breathing.

It was ignorable, they could have passed it off as literally anything, but there was a tug in their chest. The kind of feeling that sits somewhere between curiosity and some universal pull towards the unknown.

There was no light in the alleyway, and Civilian placed down a grocery bag to pull out their phone, turning on the torch. The light only reached so far, but at the very edge of the beam they caught the dim glimpse of a hand.

“Fuck,” they breathed, breath coming out in puffs.

They placed their other bag down and walked further in, light wrapping around the rest of the crumpled body until they stood in front of it. They recognised Villain, though that was a miracle in its own. He was collapsed against the ground like a puppet, limbs bent at awkward angles as if he had been literally dropped here. The list of what didn’t look broken would be shorter then what they were currently seeing, just a heap of discoloured skin and blood.

Civilian found their breath caught in their throat, swallowed, tried breathing again.

They didn’t hesitate as they stepped forward, placing their phone, flashlight up, on the ground as they grabbed Villain’s arm. He didn’t even flinch, not a sound left his lips as his head lolled to the side, Civilian grunting as they dipped their shoulder down, pulling him onto them. They moved quickly, using the momentum to roll him onto their shoulders and stand up, puffing and panting.

“Damn you’re heavy,” they grunted.

They took in a few sharp breaths before squatting down to pick up their phone, shooting back up as fast as possible before their legs gave out. Never had they been more grateful for the gym. They left the alleyway quickly, already feeling Villain’s blood soaking into their shirt. It was warm and uncomfortable and every jostle of him against their bony shoulders only made it worse.

At this time of night there was no one around, and they hugged the shadows, walking through the blind spots they knew existed as they snuck into their apartment building. There were no cameras in here, none that worked at least, and Civilian punched the secondary door code in, bending slightly to pull the door open. Their shoulders and back ached already and they moved quickly to the elevator, pressing the button more times then necessary.

The elevator crawled down from level five and Civilian’s teeth were ready to snap by the time the doors opened. They leant against the elevator wall as the doors closed, fighting every desire to put Villain down. If they did that now they wouldn’t be able to get him back up.

Civilian got off on the third floor and bee-lined for their door, cursing as they fished for their keys in their pocket. Of course, they dropped their fucking keys and had to place Villain down, fiddling with them until they could push the door open.

Civilian looped their arms under Villain’s armpits and dragged him inside, throwing the door closed before dragging him up on the couch. They turned the lights on, closed the curtains and didn’t even look at him again as they walked to the bathroom.

They pulled off their bloody shirt, grabbing a not so dirty one and putting it on as they bent down in front of their sink. They took out a large medical kit from the cupboard, an assortment of spare hair products and soaps clattering to the floor.

Villain was still completely motionless as Civilian returned, his breaths short and ragged.

The contents of the first aid bag spilled out onto the floor as Civilian tipped it, discarding the bag and snatching up a pair of scissors. Civilian cut through Villain’s shirt, peeling the wet cloth away from his skin and revealing the horrors underneath.

Two large wounds one open and gaping, one thin but bleeding profusely. They quickly cut through the rest of the shirt, fabric flopping against the couch while they grabbed a handful of dressings. Packaging crinkled under their hands, and they tore it off, packing it into the wound and pressing down. Warm blood stuck to their hands.

“Oh shit gloves.”

But it was too late now.

Keeping one hand on the biggest wound Civilian grabbed some more dressings and, after awkwardly unwrapping them, pressed them against the other wound. Then they sat in silence, their hands pressed onto the bloody wounds of a war criminal.

As the blood continued to soak through the larger wound Civilian adding more dressing, removing their hand only long enough to grab another. Eventually the other wound ceased bleeding and they could focus on the one, until they no longer needed to apply more dressing.

However, it took almost a full ten minutes for the bleeding to finally stop and by then there was blood all over the couch, down Civilian’s arms and on the rug. The smell was intense, more so then they expected, and it took all their will power to ignore their churning stomach.

Once the larger wound stopped bleeding, they left the piles of dressing on it and moved their attention back to the smaller one, carefully removing the layers of bandage. They disappeared into the kitchen and filled a bowl with warm water before grabbing a clean tea towel from the drawer.

There was only so much they could do with just water and cloth, but they cleaned around the wound as much as possible, giving them as good of a view as they could. They grabbed a tube of saline but hesitated as they raised their hand over the would. They watched Villain’s face, hunting for signs of… anything really, and after a second squirted the saline into the wound. No reaction.

Civilian let out an uneasy breath and finally looked back to the larger wound. They were much more careful with this once, taking the dressing off as delicately as possible, using the cloth and water to ease it back. Once it was off, and the wound didn’t start bleeding again, they repeated the process, cleaning everything until they could see clearly.

Now for the hard part.

Both wounds were going to need stitching, and Civilian did not have a suture kit. They did however have a sewing kit and fishing line.

Civilian rummaged through the organised chaos of their craft box and came out with both, still deciding whether this was a good idea or not. Stitches were necessary, they were certain of that, but will their attempt cause more harm then good?

Last time they tried stitches they gave themself an infection, but that was because they used cotton thread. Fishing line should be fine…

Urgency overrode doubt and they took the tools back to their mess of a work area, unreeling the line out and laying it along the pile of plastic packaging. They found a disinfectant wipe and ran it along the line, going over it multiple times in hopes that would help. They took out a curved sewing needle from the sewing box, did the same thing for it, then washed it with saline, wiped it again.

Their chest tightened as they went through all of this, doubt writhing in their stomach but they pressed through, threading the needle with practiced ease.

Civilian swallowed, took a breath, pinching together the skin of the open wound. Before they could psyche themself out, they started. The muscle flinched but made no other movements as they began the first stitch. It made them squirm on the spot, threading through flesh. It was soft and warm and moved, and they couldn’t help but imagine the sensation on their own body. The feeling of the thread moving through them, the little tug at the end.

“Stop it would you?” They snapped at themself, trying to focus on the task at hand.

It took just under an hour for them to stitch the wounds fully and by the end of it they felt lightheaded and sick. They were covered in blood, everything was covered in blood, and they still had to try and bandage him. They looked at their red hands, the clean bandages and decided that cleaning would be the best idea first.

Civilian went to the bathroom, the red glaring against the white sink as they scrubbed as much blood off as they could. They used baby wipes, went and found alcohol wipes and briefly thought about bleach before realising that was a stupid fucking idea. They cleaned everything off as best they could and even though they were still pink, it had to be enough.

They put gloves on this time, for Villain more then themself at this point, and gently, very gently lifted him up. They moved him just enough so that their arm could fit under his body, placed his shoulders up against the arm of the couch, head positioned against the back. They removed his now shredded shirt and threw it onto the already ready ruined rug along with all the other bloody rubbish.

They taped several gauzes along the wound then began wrapping the bandage around. It took little figuring out, but they found the right amount of pressure and soon fell into a rhythm.  

Civilian tried to not look at his face, tried not to even breath on him as their hands flittered across his body. It had been a long time since they had, had to be so close to another person, willingly at least. They hadn’t hugged someone in literal years, probably the most other contact had been nothing more then a handshake, and here they were having to manipulate a stranger’s body.

They finished the bandages quickly but effectively and returned him to a more comfortable position. He looked like shit still, but slightly less shit. His breathing had evened out just little, which was fast progress, but this was Villain after all. Civilian couldn’t exactly hold them to the usual standard of healing.

However, the fact that he had yet to even stir was concerning.

Without an impending doom Civilian decided to take a break and make a cup of tea. If they didn’t, they feared that they would pass out. While the kettle boiled, they found a box of cookies and took out two, eating them carefully as they stared at their couch over the bench. They couldn’t see him exactly, which was a bit of a grace, but they could feel his presence.

The questions started rising as they took a moment to stand still. How he got there, why, what happened? Clearly a fight of some sort, or perhaps something worse… Either way it didn’t explain why or how he ended up in Civilian’s alleyway. Surely, he couldn’t have ran there himself.

The kettle boiled and they decided to add an extra spoonful of sugar to their cup before pouring the water in. A couple of stirs, tea bad out, splash of cold water in and they took a sip. Immediately their fog in their head cleared a little and they took a few more sips, the warmth seeping down into their chest. They looked back over the bench, then rounded the corner to see him.

No less pale and looked no less like a train hit him.

They moved back towards the coffee table, placed their mug down and began inspecting the rest of his body. There were bruises on his face, one eye was partially swollen but it seemed otherwise intact. His arms were also bruised, wrists red and raw. They wrapped those too after disinfecting them and stepped back, taking another sip of tea as they assessed the situation.

There was no blood on his pants and while they probably should check for any broken bones, Civilian decided that, while he was unconscious and immobile, that could wait. They’re sure he’ll tell them if anything is broken when he wakes up. His torso, now it wasn’t covered in blood was covered in bruises and there was no way for them to tell if anything was broken, and even if they could, nothing they could do about it. So, for now, their work was done.

Civilian grabbed some blankets from the hallway cupboard and laid them over Villain, tucking in his feet and arms to keep in as much warmth as possible. They debated turning on the heating, they try and use it as little as possible, opting for heated blankets and things instead but could they put a heated blanket on someone with injuries like that?

Civilian caved and turned the heating on, dreading the bill but weighing the risk was worth it. They didn’t want all their hard work to be undone simply because their tiny apartment was too cold. They closed all the doors around, making sure the curtain was properly drawn before taking a seat on the coffee table. Villain still hadn’t moved, and they watched him carefully, taking another sip of tea as they watched the rise and fall of his chest.

Only a little was known about him in these parts. He is powerful, that’s for sure, one of the top villains in the country. The heroes here would definitely have a hard time dealing with him, and they definitely couldn’t do this to him. He usually spends his time across the state, in the capital where he supposedly lived or at least spent the most time harassing the big heroes there. Civilian had only seen him once, when talking to an off-duty hero, but that hadn’t been Civilian’s main focus at the time, so they hadn’t paid much attention.

Villain wasn’t always at the top, he used to be at the very bottom in fact, in the worst pits this world has to offer. Is that what happened here? Who else could do something like this?

There was no way to get an answer, not now at least. Civilian didn’t really sleep that night, they tried to settle into the armchair near the couch, but their eyes kept opening to glance at Villain.

For the next three days Villain remained unconscious. In that time Civilian removed the blood-stained rug, replaced Villain’s bandages, and did their best to clean the couch but with both Villain being on it and not wanting to bleach their dark coloured couch, there wasn’t much they could do.

They actually got quite used to him being there, going about their day as best as they could, the only difference now is they didn’t have a couch to sit on. By the third day they grew confident, as well as concerned, by the fact that he wouldn’t wake up and decided to leave for a much needed grocery shop. They had forgotten the groceries they’d left in the alleyway and food had been low then, so now it was dire.

Villain’s wounds were still horrible to look at and they figured that even if he did wake up while they were gone, he wouldn’t be able to get very far.

Civilian shopped like it was an Olympic event, only barely adhering to speed limits and almost hitting severely people with their trolly as they zoomed around the store, having to retrace their steps several times as they forgot things. Eventually they managed to do the usually hour and a half event, including driving, in an hour. It was a little impressive actually.

They shuffled awkwardly into the apartment, arms filled with bags, just managing to close the door behind them before they dropped one, which thankfully didn’t have the eggs in it. They waddled into the kitchen, placing everything down on the ground, frowning as they straightened.

They couldn’t place what was wrong at first, that tugging feeling pulling them towards the couch. They obeyed, eyes widening at the sight of the empty cushions.

Civilian moved at the last second as Villain reached for them. He grasped at thin air and stumbled, balancing himself on the edge of the bench. He was sweating, panting too as he struggled to stay up right, clutching his side and barely holding on. None the less he held the knife in his hand, pointed at Civilian.

“Who are you,” he said. “Where am I?”

“My name is Civilian, you’re in my apartment and you really should lay down,” they said. They weren’t afraid of him, even with the knife in his hands they doubted he could do anything. They were, however, afraid for him. If he passed out here and fell onto the ground, he could reopen all his wounds and they really didn’t want to try and re-stitch things while he was awake.

“What city?” He growled.

“Villain you need to calm down, you’re safe.”

The statement seemed to anger him more and he tried to lunge forward, probably grab Civilian or something, but he was much too clumsy for that. Civilian took the opportunity, grabbing the knife with one hand and him with the other. The knife clattered to the ground, mostly from his already loose grip, and they manoeuvred him, pushing the back of his legs on the arm of the couch and lowering him onto it. He tried to fight, tried to stand but there was no strength in his attempts.

“Villain, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep moving.”

“Who are you?” He asked again.

“I already told you, my name is Civilian. You need to lay down, ok? You’re going to pass out other wise.”

He didn’t fight them as they finally got him in place, though he muttered some sounds as they did so. Once he was laid down again his eyes rolled back and Civilian sighed. They scanned the bandages, waiting but no blood seeped through.

Civilian sighed.

“I guess this is going to be an uphill battle now.”

~

Hope you enjoyed, if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know and if you like my work I have a growing collection here on my blog so check it out! 

Part 2

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Detectives and Demons

Do I have many pieces I am needing to continue? Yes. Am I posting a brand new thing instead? Yes. 

I will try working on some current things soon, I’ve just finished moving house among other stressful things and this is the first thing I’ve written in months.

Detective and Partner need to investigate an attempted demon summoning, but their usual informant is out on other business. However, Informant recommends them an expert. 

CW; Death, blood, cults, the occult, trauma

~

Detective stared at the pentagram, the makeshift alter in the centre, the blood staining the sides. It was hard to breath, like the air was somehow thinner in here and no matter how tightly they clenched their fists they couldn’t stop the shaking.

A hand slid onto their shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” A voice whispered in their ear, smooth and sweet. A second hand took their other shoulder and began massaging it. “You aren’t there.”

“Don’t touch me,” Detective snapped.

The hands vanished and a face appeared in front of them, red brown eyes staring into theirs.

“Come on, don’t tell me it isn’t helping. I irritate you too much not to distract you.”

Detective glared, taking in a deep breath, but not because they were told to.

Partner smiled, “there you go. Do that compartmentalising or whatever it is you humans do. Focus on the job.”

Partner stepped to the side and Detective wished they hadn’t as the scene laid itself out before them again. The body sprawled out across the alter, eyes wide, face in terror.

“Was it a successful summoning?” Detective asked, moving their eyes back to Partner.

Partner raised their brows. “You think I can tell just from looking at it. My, I didn’t realise you had such a high opinion of me.”

“Can you, or can’t you?”

Partner smirked, “of course I can. And yes, it was proper but unsuccessful.”

Detective frowned, “how so?”

“Well, whoever chopped up this young man definitely opened the invitation, but he was not nearly inviting enough for anyone to accept.”

“If you don’t start giving me actual answers I’ll-”

Partner appeared in front of them again, eyes a little bright, entirely too close. If Detective couldn’t breath before they definitely couldn’t now.

“You’ll what? Spank me? Sweetie, I thought we talked about threats, you can’t do it, and honestly its no longer fun to watch you try.”

Detective grit their teeth, heart in their throat until Partner finally stepped back. They breathed. Partner paced about in front of them.  

“If you want to know why an invitation can go unanswered,” their hands moved as they spoke, “there are a few reasons actually. My people are quite fussy folks despite popular belief. We don’t just gobble up any souls thrown at our feet, we aren’t bottom feeders like the lower-level creatures. If the right sacrifice isn’t provided or the right deal offered, then we decline. It could be simply that they weren’t interesting enough of a person for a demon to want to bother with.”  

Detective dragged their gaze back to the scene.

“And can you tell why this one was declined?”

“Hmm.. not really, that boy’s soul has long left his body so there is nothing left for me to appraise. But interestingly enough the room wreaks frankincense.”

“Frankincense?” Detective frowned.

“Yes, which leads to some fascinating assumptions. Most demons won’t accept invitations from holy folks because 9 times out of 10 it’s a trap, however it’s a good way to lure in more powerful demons who can afford to fuck around and find out.”

Detective looked about the room.

“If this was a trap you wouldn’t be able to be here right now,” Detective said.

“Hmm, this is true.”  Partner said turning around to look at Detective, “that is, unless the trap has left the room.”

Detective stared at the alter, felt the blood dripping down their body.

“How common is this knowledge,” Detective asked.

“Not as common as one would think,” Partner said, reaching out and turning Detective’s gaze back to them. “You have an informant that might be able to help you narrow it down, maybe we should go talk to them. We have gathered everything we can from here now.”

Detective’s eyes darted back to the scene but before they could focus on it again Partner grabbed their hand and turned them away.

“Come on, I haven’t seen informant in forever.”

Detective felt far away, but Partner’s hand was warm against their skin, and as they stepped outside the sun beamed down on them, soaking in.

“That’s because all you two do is flirt with each other,” Detective finally said.  

Partner grinned, “oh the good memories.”

~

Informant’s place was usually vibrant and active, however as Detective and Partner approached it was silent. No music, no voices, not even a light on. On the door hung a note, Detective plucked it off.

“I heard down the grape vine you may need me, however other matters have grabbed my attention. Go to the bookshop across from a bell tower and seek the person inside, they may not be as good looking as me, but they will be as helpful, if not more. Give my love to Partner,” Detective read. They started at the note, re-red it. “A bookshop across from a bell tower, are you kidding me? That’s not a direction.”

Partner flittered around Detective, “Maybe they just want to test that big, beautiful brain of yours.”

“Well, I don’t have time for this bullshit, there is an occultist murderer on the loose and in case you haven’t noticed there is a church right behind us and literally a dozen other-”

A bell rang, big and heavy and old. The sound reverberated in Detective’s head, vibrated through their body. Detective stood on a narrow street, grass and greenery to their right, small buildings to their left. A church was perched out on the grass, a cemetery stretching out from its side, old headstones barely held together. And there a bell hung at the top of a small tower, old and rusted and silent. Across from it, a quaint little bookshop, windows peering into shelves inside. Detective passed through it, stood in front of a desk where a person sat, working away on something.

Detective looked up at the grey sky, over at Partner standing beside them with a bemused grin.

“You couldn’t even stop me from falling?” Detective said, picking themself up off the ground.

“If I help you every time, how will you learn to not fall when it happens? You’ll just learn to rely on me, and we can’t have that.”

Detective just rolled their eyes and brushed themself off.

“So, do you know where you are going?”

Detective wanted nothing more then to punch out that smug face.

“Yes,” they said and started walking.

“You know, if you practiced and didn’t deny your gifts you could do that on will.”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” Detective snapped.

“And since when has that stopped me before?”

Detective said nothing and walked back to the car.

The bookshop across from the fucking bell tower turned out to be a twenty-minute drive away and Partner spent the entire twenty minutes yabbering on about bullshit. Halfway through Detective spaced out, at first a welcome reprieve until the body floated into their mind, the alter, the blood. Their blood.

Partner touched Detective’s arm, “and you know what happened when he didn’t listen to me?”

Detective blinked into focus.

“I don’t know, he died?”

“He died,” Partner nodded.

“And how many people died because they did listen to you?” Detective asked, glancing over.

Partner waved them off. “That doesn’t matter, I don’t want you dead so its irrelevant to the conversation.”

“Sure.”

Detective pulled into a park a little bit down the road from the bookshop, though there were plenty of parks out front of it. The street was dead, not a soul in sight or a sound to be heard, the city a far-off rumble. The bookshop looked unassuming, like just any other bookshop, but Detective could feel a warmth emitting from it, like a heated bubble around it protecting from the bite of the air outside. It felt relaxing, inviting which only made Detective square their shoulders, hold a hand to their pocket.

Detective entered first, a small bell ringing above them as they opened the door. They held the door open for Partner as they stepped inside.

The moment Partner did they faltered, holding on to the door frame as a pulse of energy startled them. Their skin felt hot, some of the fire inside of them rising to the surface.

“Partner,” Detective said, “you’re eyes.”

Detective stared as Partner’s eyes glowed, pupils slitted, blood red iris swirling.

“Well shit,” Partner said, blinking, “I can’t turn it off.”

Detective grabbed Partner’s arm, ready to drag them out and leave.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a demon in my store,” A voice said.

Both heads snapped over to a person standing at the end of a bookshelf. They were dressed like they were either in the wrong era or at the wrong event. Well fitted dress pants, polished black shoes and a waist coat with the most elegant embroidery Detective had ever seen.

“And it’s been a while since I’ve met someone who knows how to ward so well,” Partner said, looking about the room, then back to them. “Who taught you?”

The Stranger shrugged, “would you believe me if I said I was self taught?”

Partner laughed, “not for a second. No human could figure this out on their own.”

The stranger just shrugged again, then reached up to one of the shelves and drew a circle with their finger. Partner’s eyes returned to normal.

“Why don’t we talk in my office?”

Without waiting for a reply, The Stranger turned and disappeared into the aisle. Detective and Partner followed quickly. Detective felt uncomfortable as they walked through, like they were too hot and too cold at the same time. The room itself was perfectly warm, like being wrapped in a comfy blanket, it made Detective want to relax into on of he couches or armchairs speckled about, just take a moment to collect themself. But that sensation panicked them, they rebelled against it, tightened their fists in an attempt to not relax.

They walked what seemed like forever, but in reality, was only a few metres to the back of the shop, to a door held wide open. The Stranger was already at their desk, leant against the front of it, waiting for them.

Partner went to walk in first. Stopped, looked around the door frame.

“I can’t get in,” they said, impressed.

“Well,” The Stranger said, “you could if you tried hard enough but by the time that happens, I would be long gone.” They looked to Detective. “You should be fine to step through though.”

Detective hesitated. They weren’t afraid to be without Partner, they couldn’t care less about their presence… most of the time, however this felt dangerous, felt out of Detectives usual bounds of experience.

None the less, Detective stepped inside.

“I suppose I should introduce myself,” The Stranger said. “I am Civilian, this is my bookshop, but I am assuming you aren’t here for books, or at the very least the books I have out there.” They gestured out the door.

“No,” Detective, “we were told you’d have information for us.”

“Told by whom?”

“Informant.”

Detective felt regret the moment the word finished leaving their mouth. The welcoming warmth turned cold and Civilian’s jaw set.

“You work with Informant?” They said.

“Occasionally,” Detective said, “you know them.”

Civilian scoffed, “that’s putting it kindly. At least the asshat didn’t try to convince you they know everything. They couldn’t differentiate a sigil if you gave them a legend along with it.”

“Sounds like you don’t like them,” Partner said, grinning.

“If this wasn’t about the summoning I would refuse you just for affiliating with them,” they snapped, but reeled themself back, took a breath. “But you are here about that, and so I need to get over myself.”

“How brave of you,” Partner mocked.

“You know about the summoning,” Detective said before Civilian retaliated. Their gaze shifted to him.

“Yes, word spreads quickly in this world,” they looked back to Partner who was now on their phone. “Was it successful?”

“I’m really curious now how you know Informant. A business deal gone wrong? Ooh maybe ex lovers? That would be spicy.”

Civilian glared.

“Partner,” Detective snapped, “enough.”

Partner rolled their eyes, “you’re no fun. No, the summoning wasn’t successful, the place wreaked of Frankincense, so it was probably a trap.”

Civilian frowned, walked around their desk and sat down. They pulled the drawer beside them open and flicked through it, muttering something to themself. Detective stepped forward, peered over the desk but as they did the drawer slammed shut and Civilian had a folder.

“What are you thinking?”

“A lot of occult groups come to me for information and most of the time I give them wrong information,” Civilian said.

“You what?” Partner burst out, utterly amused.

“Most groups know jack shit to begin with and are just radicalised folks trying to have a higher purpose. These are the kind of people who either a, would just get killed by a demon if they did manage to summon it, or b, would use a demon to cause mass death or destruction. So, I feed them the wrong information, like for example that Frankincense is the key ingredient to a summoning.”

“So, they burn a bunch of it and instead end up deterring most demons,” Partner said, “I like that. You’re clever.”

Civilian shrugged.

“Do you have any pictures of the scene?” They asked.

“No-”

“Yes,” Partner said.

Detective looked to them.

“What? Just because you weren’t working doesn’t mean I wasn’t.” They said, fishing their phone out of their pocket. Detective went and reached over the line, flicking through the photos before turning and bringing it back.

“Just don’t scroll too far or you might find something you won’t like,” Partner grinned. “Or maybe you will.”

Civilian did not entertain the comment and took the phone, looking down at the photos, squinting, zooming in on parts.

“Damn,’ they muttered, putting the file down and opening the drawer again, flicking through.

“Is that a good damn or a bad one?” Partner asked.

“Bad,” Civilian said. “Did you see the trail?”

Partner eyed them, “yes, how did you?”

Civilian looked to Detective. “A trail is something left by certain creatures and spectres, most commonly spirits or ghosts who died tragically. This kid wasn’t just killed, his soul was suspended, trapped there, which is not a common thing to be able to do.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means this was more then just a summoning, and these people are after more then just a demon. If it wasn’t for the frankincense, they would have attracted much more then that, much worse.”

“Worse?” Detective echoed.

“Less willing to talk it out,” Partner said. “Remember those lower levels I was telling you about?”

“Among other things,” Civilian said.

“So do you know who it was?” Detective asked.

“I’ll have to get back to you on it, I have a hunch but need to confirm.”

Civilian picked up multiple files and opened them across their desk, scanning them.

“That’s it?” Partner said, “I thought you’d be more impressive then that.”

“Why don’t you come in here and say that?” Civilian said looking up at them.

Detective stepped between them.

“I am sure you appreciate this is a time sensitive matter, I can only give you 24 hours to get the answers you need.”

“You’ll have it before then,” Civilian said, “If we don’t figure this out by tonight, they are going to try again and this time they might not use the frankincense.”

Detective eyed them as they looked back down at their work, focussed. They nodded, turned to partner.

“Let’s go.”

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Robbery

Villain has been robbed, a task that should have been impossible, but worst of all they have no idea who, how, or even what was taken. 

Based in the OC World of a bigger project

CW: Swearing, fight, blunt weapons, knives, blood, death/killing, control against will, threats

~

Villain sat at their desk and stared at the note in front of them, folded in  half and propped up like a little tent, words drawn neatly on its side. If you were to pick it up and look inside you would see more letters, words Villain already had burned in their brain.

They had to admit their hand writing was pretty, educated, crafted even. Someone had taken the time to write these letters perfectly, or perhaps it was a skill they had simply mastered.

On the outside of the note was the word sorry, and inside read: Had to borrow a couple of things, hope you don’t mind!

Of course Villain would mind and the writer knew that, why else would they leave a note? Why else would they say those words? They knew exactly how pissed off Villain would be and they wanted to just add a cherry on top. Villain had been robbed, and to make it worse they had, had no idea until they found the note, sitting on their desk likes this.

Not only had someone stolen from them, undetected, but the thief made it all the way into Villain’s office and left a fucking note without activating a single alarm, without a single security guard noticing them. Part of Villain was impressed, it was a feat previously thought impossible, that not even Heroes had achieved. The other part burned with a rage hotter and more deadly then any fire in hell.

And the worst part, because this only gets worse, Villain had no idea what was even taken. With no alarms to go off and no camera footage having caught sight of the supposed thief, Villain had to send people to search the vaults, to go through every logged opening and close of the gates, the doors and the vault itself.

Villain has no idea who, what or why, just a note of apology.

The door to Villain’s office opened and Right Hand walked in without hesitation.

“Please tell me you have something,” Villain said.

Right Hand stopped in front of the desk, crossed their arms.

“Well, they somehow managed to avoid every camera in the facility, which at least now we know we have blind spots.”

“We don’t have blind spots,” Villain said, “I designed this place myself. We have blind slivers, tiny moments in between camera movements, there is no possible way someone could have timed those up.”

“Well I think we may need to adjust what we believe is possible,” Right Hand said and pulled a folded piece of paper out of their pocket. Villain took, it unfolded it, read it once, then twice, looked up at Right Hand.

“They used the code?”

“Someone plugged it in, and yet we have no record of someone accessing it. Security was in the booth all night, no one asked them for it.”

“Alright I know what we just said but that is actually impossible. The code changes combinations every minute, the only people who can see it is security. Was there a breach in the firewall? Were we hacked?”

“No, none. And the Telepathic fields were up so no one could have read Security’s mind. As I said, the impossible is old news. Whoever this person is must have some ability for them to just… well I don’t even know what, but they used the code to open the vault, and they avoided every camera and alarm in the building.”

Villain studied Right Hand carefully. “You haven’t said what they’ve taken yet.”

Right Hand sighs.

“I don’t like that sigh,” Villain said.

“Well, they took one of our experimental explosives, which you know, not great.”

“But.”

“But… they took Nathanial’s Grimoire and the Amulet of Gruel.”

Villain felt like laughing, felt like punching a wall, and biting an ear off. They took in a breath, steepled their hands and rested their lips against their fingers. Once again they were impressed, that’s a lot of important shit to take, some very important shit.

“And we have no idea who they are?”

“No, but we have teams working to track the book now as we speak.”

“If our thief knows what they are doing they won’t be able to track it for long, which means we have a very narrow window to find it before they undo everything I have worked for.”

Villain stood from their seat.

“Get Antony to send out teams across the city, give them all trackers and tell them to move as fast as possible.”

“Already on it, they are readying now. I was more here to see what you wanted me to do.”

“We are going to search a different way.”

Right Hand nodded and followed Villain out of the room.

~

Civilian felt like they were trying to dislocate their jaw. No matter how much they had squished down the sandwich every time they bit into it, they had to open their mouth as wide as possible and then some to fit it in. It wasn’t helping that they were trying to eat it with one hand, and when bits started falling out they resorted to taking smaller bites, getting bits and pieces at a time. Still tasted good.

With their other hand, covered in a thick glove, they reached over to the book in front of them and flipped a page.  The book was big, and old, and beautiful, covered in sigils and gold leafing, leather binding its sides. The pages were all delicately painted, pained over to get every picture and letter right. Civilian appreciated the effort and was careful to keep their sandwich away.

They licked mayo from the corner of their mouth, flipping over another page. It was all fascinating stuff, but not what they wanted.

The hotel room they were in was small, ridiculously so for the price, not to mention to state of it. Civilian was sat on the faded carpet, coughing table dragged over to the window the catch the evening light. Civilian had tried using the lights inside the apartment but they were so yellow they could barely see the details on the pages. They scanned over another two pages before turning them again, brows knitted together in concentration. It was hurting their head. Usually, it didn’t take them much effort to get what they want but something about this book was making it difficult.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know the language, that’s never been an obstacle before, nor that their knowledge of magic was limited, they would simple just expand that limit. But there was some sort of interference from the book itself, a static that buzzed in their mind.

They sat back and took another bite of their sandwich, shifting their eyes away to try and alleviate the pressure in their head. It didn’t really work. After a couple more minutes trying Civilian closed the book, the pressure in their head becoming almost unbearable. They turned and opened the window, letting in a wash of fresh air as they stood in the sunlight, taking a deep and calming breath.

A phone to their left rung and they placed the sandwich down onto  some paper wrap, wiping their hand against their shirt. Caller ID unknown.

“Hello,” Civilian answered sweetly.

“Where the fuck is my bomb?”

They flinched and held the phone away from their ear.

“Really Gerard there is no need to yell, your voice is coming across fine.”

“You lied to me, and you stole from me.”

“I didn’t lie to you Gerard, and I didn’t steal from you, you just gave me information you didn’t know you were giving me.” Civilian took a bite of their sandwich. “And let’s be real here, I have a much better use for the bomb then you do.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come now, your plan is as plain as day. You were going to detonate it in the School of Word because that’s where half the council’s kids go.  I mean really man, kids? You think people are going to side with you over the council after you kill a bunch of school kids? You’re just giving the council more fuel for the fire, not to mention the fact that morally, once I know that, I have to stop you.”

“You want to talk morals with me? How about-”

“Kids are a different story man, you don’t hurt kids, they have no part in any of this. Asswipes like you however I have no issue with harming. Which is something you should keep in mind.”

“You have no idea what-”

“You should know by this point, I do in fact know what I am talking about, and I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. Now maybe we can rethink this plan of yours into something a little more productive.”

“No I will tell you what I am going to do. I am going to find you and I am going to make you regret betraying me.”

“I didn’t betray you Gerard, I was never loyal to you in the first place. I just had a nice conversation with you and now you’re butt hurt because my plan was better. See, much less dramatic.”

“I am going to tear you limb from limb, you will beg-”

“Ok good luck with that.”

Civilian hung up.

They sighed, leaning forward until their head rested against the cool glass of the window, knuckles whitening against the phone.

“I don’t have time for this.”

They stood their a moment, trying to think their way around the situation but every path they went down met with a wall until there was only one path remaining. The one path they didn’t really want to go down.

Civilian turned and picked up the book, moving it over to a an almost equally as old looking brown leather satchel, tying it in firmly. They stood, piking up their plate and walking it over to the kitchen bench where an even more ancient looking Gold amulet, its centre adorned with a transparent black crystal that held a mummified human eye inside of it, sat. And next to it was a glass box, inside a perfectly spherical metal ball with knobs and buttons across one side.

Civilian placed the plate down, picked up the amulet and hung it around their neck before nestling the glass case under one arm.

~

The polluted night sky was nothing but a black void. Villain had never liked cities, this reason among many. Being separated from the stars felt like being separated from a lover, from a friend, even a parent. The stars had been with them longer then any human had. Watched over them in their childhood, watched them grow into the horrible person they were today. But they didn’t judge, in fact they couldn’t give less of a fuck, and Villain appreciated that.

But here in the light polluted city, Villain couldn’t see a single one, just a black void stretching out above skyscrapers and towers. The roof Villain stood upon was much shorter then those, though still a towering fortress.

“Staring at them isn’t going to make them suddenly appear,” a voice said behind Villain.

Villain did not move, just continued looking up.

“Perhaps, but in my minds eye I can paint them out.”

“What’s your obsession with them anyway? They’re cool and all but like they’re just lights, I don’t get it.” Hero stepped beside Villain, looking up at the void.

“That’s because you grew up in the city. Seeing them for you was a treat, for me its home.”

“You could always go back home, stop being a pain in my ass.”

Villain grinned, looked down and at Hero.

“Oh  no, I have way too much fun here. Besides there is too much work for me to still do before I can think about retiring.”

Hero sighed.

“Yeah, so you keep saying, not that you ever tell me what your work is.”

“You will know when the time is right.”

Hero just rolled their eyes.

“Enough chit chat, why did you summon me here.”

Villain turned away from the edge of the building to face Hero completely.

“Don’t play dumb, you know why I brought you here.”

Hero raised their brows. “Well that’s news to me.”

Villain eyed them, frowned.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Villain laughed, it startled even them, but they laughed at the absolute absurdity of it. There is no way it was another Villain, they would know about that, so it had to have been the Heroes, but if Hero doesn’t even know… Who the fuck broke into their facility?

“I was robbed last night,” Villain said.

Hero’s face almost split itself in half their jaw dropped so fast.

“What?! How? That’s impossible.”

“So I thought, but clear as day someone stole from me, even left me a little note.”

Villain took the note out and handed it to Hero. They kept talking as Hero examined it.

“I had assumed it was the heroes’ doing since no Villain had, but apparently not.”

“No, an operation like that would have definitely reached my ears, your place is a fortress.”

“And yet someone got in, completely undetected. If they hadn’t left a note, then I wouldn’t have known until next time I opened the vault.”

“Interesting,” Hero said.

“Exactly.”

“Why would they alert you if they could have gotten away scott free?”

“Well since no ransom or deal has been proposed my current theory is they just wanted to show off. Or tell me they’re about to destroy the world.”

Hero cocked their head as they looked at the note.

“Hmm, no I don’t think so. I am not getting end the world vibes from this.”

“What are you getting from it?”

Hero placed a hand over the note, pressed it between their palms and a flash of green went through their eyes.

“Desperation, anger but very aimed anger. This person was on a mission, a goal, but not to end the world. To… find something? It’s a bit hard to tell, I’m getting a lot of interference.”

“Can you tell if they’re a witch or a mage?”

Hero took a second before slowly shaking their head.

“No, but definitely one of the two and definitely strong, as strong as you perhaps.”

“Mm, I figured they’d have to be at least somewhat powerful to pull this off.”

“Yeah, just what we need, another you or superhero to play gods in this world.”

“Be careful now, I’m sensitive about that subject,” Villain warned, voice low.

“And we have a deal that you won’t play mind games with me, so I can say what I like and you will let me go or I rat out this whole operation to the other Heroes.”

Hero went to put the note in their pocket but Villain snatched their wrist. Hero gasped as their body seized, eyes stuck staring into the darkness of Villain’s.

“Tsk, tsk, come now Hero I have treated you so well up until this point. You’re going to try and blackmail me now?”

Villain pried the paper from Hero’s gasp.

They sighed, “I should have seen this coming, you types always get cocking at some point, never able to stay on your own level.”

Villain moved, still holding Hero’s wrist, Hero’s body walking itself along side them.

“Do you want to know why I always meet people on the roof? And no its not just so I can look at the stars.”

Villain stopped a metre away from the buildings edge but Hero’s body kept going, walking in front of Villain, turning so their back is to the drop and they are facing Villain.

“I know you are hoping that this is just a warning, and once upon a time when I was young and hopeful I would have given you a warning. But experience has told me that once this spark is present there is not putting it out.”

Tears ran down Hero’s face, their body still stiff, mouth unable to move while their mind screamed and begged. Villain smiled softly.

“You were a good pawn, I will miss you.”

Villain let go of Hero’s wrist and Hero gasped a scream about to pass their lips when Villain struck out with their other hand and pushed them off the building. Villain peered over the edge, watching and waiting for the thud, the screams. Their phone vibrated and they pulled it out, just as a woman screamed below.

“Yes?” They said, turning and walking away from the edge.

“We found something, not the thief but where they stayed.”

“Find anything useful?”

“Just that this was a one person job and they like chicken, cheese and mayo sandwiches.”

“Well, that’s not exactly useful, but I’ll take it, can any of the trackers get anything from the sandwich?”

“There is some interference, but they think they might be able to.”

“Mm, that seems to keep happening. All hands on deck when we do find this person.”

“Yes sir.”

~

Civilian sat on a chair in the middle of a warehouse. Night had fallen and everything was dark bar the single LED lantern in their lap and light spilling in from the street outside. For anyone else it made for a difficult place to see in, for Civilian, eh.

They watched the silhouettes arrive, a small army by the looks of it. Of course Gerard might have been a pain in the ass, but he was smart. Civilian hit a button on the remote in their hand the the large roller door began to open, stopping the the army in their stride. Gerard stood in front of them.

“Well you took your time,” Civilian said, standing, holding the lantern in their hand. “I only left you like 20 messages.”

“You think you’re so smart don’t you,” Gerard said, walking in.

“Just a little?” Civilian shrugged. “I mean I tricked you, didn’t I? Though if I am honest that was not very hard at all.”

The small army spread out as they walked in, surrounding Civilian, armed with bats and crowbars and knives and other quite unpleasant ways to die.

“You are messing with things you can’t even begin to imagine. I didn’t get to where I am by letting idiots like you punk me around.”

“Punk you around? Who even says that anymore? Is that even a saying?”

“Shut your fucking mouth or so help me I will cut out your tongue and make you eat it.”

“Ouch,” Civilian said.

“You have two options here, either-”

“No, you have two options here,” Civilian cut in. “Well, your people do. You Gerard are going to die here to night one way or another, but everyone else, if you don’t want to have a short end to your life this is your one and only chance to leave.”

A few chuckles went through the crowd, a couple of uncertain glances but no one moved.

“Who do you think you are?” Gerard laughed. “You think you stand any sort of chance against all this?”

Civilian smiled, “I don’t know Gerard, do you? Why did you bring so many people?”

His jaw tightened.

“I broke into the most secure facility in the world and stole from one of the most feared and you think I am afraid of a gang of non-magical, non-gifted humans? My dear boy I may be a nobody, but that doesn’t mean I’m helpless.” They pulled off their sunglasses, “and you know full well I’m not human.” Silver eyes shined in the dim light.

“Fuck this,” Gerard snarled, “kill them.”

“Good luck,” Civilian said and closed the lamp. Darkness descended and the swing of the bat by their head went wide, easy for them to dodge and grab. The bat came into their grip, and they slammed the end into the owner’s stomach, stepping back to dodge another’s swing and parrying another.

Everything quickly turned into a flurry of movement, a blur of swings and kicks and punches, blood and broken bones. As their eyes adjusted the enemy’s swings became more accurate, someone grabbed Civilian’s hair and pulled them back, opening up a moment for a swing to the ribs. Civilian broke the hold and was free again, at some point they got punched in the face, which they returned.

Civilian moved with incredibly speed, like a cloud of smoke manoeuvring itself around attacks, flitting through the air. But they were much more solid then smoke, and despite their speed and ability the sheer number of people around them was enough to fail them. Hands and weapons were everywhere, like a crowd of children all reaching in to grab the one toy. Someone got a solid hit to Civilian’s knee and as they dropped a blade found their shoulder. Hands grabbed them and pulled them up, wrapping around their arms and several somethings cracked against their ribs.

Civilian kicked back against them, making enough space to dislodge their arm, remove the blade from their shoulder and stab it through someone’s throat.

Gerard watched from the back, moments of victory, of ego and triumph rising, as he watched each hit to Civilian. But the longer he watched the more the triumph began to die. Despite the seemingly winning blows Civilian did not go down, and one by one Gerard watched his people fall, until Civilian snapped the neck of the very last person.

Civilian did not look good. Blood spread across their shirt, dripped down their arm and onto the floor. Their breathing was ragged, bruises were forming and as they reached down to pick up their sunglasses a sharp breath stopped them. They used a bat to ease themself down, pluck the glasses from the ground and then ease themself back up. Gerard should have taken the time to run, to fight, to do something. Instead he just kept staring, and watched them turn to him.

“Well would you look at that,” Civilian said. “I was right. Who would have guessed it.”

Survival instincts kicked in and Gerard span on his heal and bolted for the exit but before he could make it even a step something hard and fast took out his legs. The bat clattered to the ground beside him as he tripped and fell with it. His head smacked against the ground, black dots dancing in his vision. Civilian appeared beside him, picked up the bat.

“You had so much potential Gerard, could have done so many things with your life and instead you chose this.”

“Please…”

Civilian raised the bat.

“I gave you ample opportunities, this is your own doing.”

They brought it down on his head.

Their shoulder wailed in agony.

“Fuck,” Civilian cried as they let go of the bat.

Their whole body screamed, if their ribs weren’t broken it was a fucking miracle, something was definitely wrong with their knee, and if they don’t act soon, they might just bleed out.

They grit their teeth as they walked towards the door.

“Fuck this,” they groaned, reaching the door and collapsing against the door frame.

They didn’t have time to be injured, time to find somewhere to patch themself up. They had to finish the book, do the ritual, they had too..

Civilian lowered themself to the ground, panting.

“Fuck,” they growled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

They used the wall to pull themself back up, but their legs shook.

And if things couldn’t get worse, they looked up.

“Well this is interesting,” Villain said, standing a bit away on the street, a few other people coming into place around them. “Not the state I expected to find my master thief in.”

Civilian gripped the wall to hold themself up.

“Not really a master, just kind of lucky.” Their hand is slick with blood. “Not that I feel very lucky right now.”

“You don’t look very lucky either,” Villain said, “Piss someone else off I take it?”

“You could say that.” Civilian was struggling to see straight.

“Well, I was preparing to have to fight you but by the looks of it you’re going to fall over in a second. Do you want my medics to grab you before that happens?”

“I mean if that’s an option sure. Saves me the trouble of a concussion or something.”

Villain looked to their left and one of the people broke away, approaching Civilian. In the doorway of the warehouse Civilian was shrouded by shadows and as Medic approached and got a better look at them, a panic found their features.

“We need to take them in now,” Medic said.

“It’s only a little blood loss,” Civilian said, their grip slipping off the door frame. Medic grabbed them, the impact agonising but Civilian didn’t have the energy to react.

The Medic look up, looked in to the warehouse.

“Holy shit,” they breathed. “Sir, come look at this.”

Villain frowned and approached, eyeing Civilian before looking into the room. Their brows rose, absolute carnage.

“Well you missed the perfect opportunity to say, ‘you should see the other guy’,” Villain said.

“Mm, damn,” Civilian muttered.

Villain eyed them again, the blood.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Medic picked Civilian up bridal style and carried them behind Villain.

Even in this state Civilian seethed. What a fucking mess.

 ~

Part 2

Let me know what you think! And if you folks have any recommendations of what I should write I am open to requests and the such. 

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Robbery Part 2

Here we go, Part 2! Hope you like it. 

Blurb: Villain has been robbed, a task that should have been impossible, but worst of all they have no idea who, how, or even what was taken.

Based in the OC world of a bigger project.

Part 1

CW: Mentions of torture, painful memories, swearing, capture, injury, interrogation

~

The room Civilian was put in was surprisingly nice. Not nice as in, it was a hotel they would stay at, but nice as in its not the worst kind of cell they could have been put in. It was a small, the centre taken up by a table and chairs, the side with the uncomfortable cot they laid in. Their hands were cuffed in front of them, which was a little rude, but at least their shoulder was wrapped in bandages and their knee had some sort of brace… thing… on it. Honestly they hadn’t thought that one was that bad, but if someone wanted to spend resources on them, Civilian wasn’t about to stop them.

On one side of the table, the side closest to them was a bottle of water and a snack bar. Beside the bed was a truth that Civilian ignored, holding their breath as they sat up. The room span but after a couple of seconds settled until they began the process again. They took in a long and steady breath before standing, using their good leg as the main support before experiment with pressure on the other.

They could put some weight on it, and the pain of pushing it was bearable. It was looking down at themselves during this process that they realised they were in different clothes. Some grey slacks and a plain shirt, at least not a hospital gown or something. But, worst of all, Civilian realised they had removed their sunglasses, Civilian eyes bare for the world to see. They let out a sigh moved passed it and limped to the table, taking a seat in front of the water and food.

They pushed both aside, looked up at the camera’s staring down at them, the little red light glaring back.

“Can we get this over with please,” they said, “I have a busy schedule.”

A very busy schedule, one they can’t even begin to figure out how to resume. How the fuck were they going to get out of this. They can barely walk and they expect to be able to escape Villain of all people? While their whole attention is on Civilian? There is no way they aren’t fucked, no way this isn’t the end and yet there is no way they can let this be the end. One way or another they are going to get out, they have to.

The door hissed, followed by a clunk before it opened and in walked, not Villain. Civilian knitted their brows together.

“Who the fuck are you?”

They closed the door behind them and with a sharp clank the door was locked again.

“I am Right Hand,” Right Hand said. “Villain is a little busy right now.”

Civilian snorted. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Villain is a very busy person, lots on their plate. They don’t have time for little issues like you, that’s my job. To deal with the things Villain doesn’t have time to worry about.”

“Wow, that’s a low blow. Unfortunately for you I don’t have much of an ego to bruise.” Civilian leaned back in their chair. “Besides, what you are saying is absolute bullshit. I know what I stole, and I know that Villain cares a lot about it. If that thing got in the hands of the Heroes, or some megalomaniac Villain? Everything they have worked for would be destroyed.”

Right Hand cocked his head. “But you are neither of those things.”

“Do I look like either of those things?” They vaguely gestured to themself.  “I am a nobody.”

Right Hand stood at the side of the table, leaned on it.  

“A nobody who broke into the most secure facility in the entire world, and just killed a small army of people. That’s a lot for a nobody.”

“Now you are just trying to flatter me.”

“Not really,” Right Hand’s eyes narrowed, “I want to know how, because for obvious reasons we can’t have that happening.”

Civilian waved a hand. “Don’t worry, everyone else is too scared of Villain to try something like that. If it were that easy the heroes would be crawling through here by now.”

“So you’ve achieved something not even the heroes together could achieve?”

“I didn’t say that. What do they say about beginners luck and all that?

Now Right Hand’s brows furrowed as he studied Civilian, trying to understand the person sitting in front of him.  

“I am going to cut to the chase,” They said.

“Finally,” Civilian groaned.

Right Hand glared. “You get one opportunity to tell me what I want to know before I take the information myself.”

Civilian scoffed. “You want to torture me? Good luck.”

“No, we don’t find torture an effective method of information gathering. People will say whatever you want them to, to make it stop. We have much more efficient and accurate ways of retrieving information. So, what will it be?”

Civilian leaned forward, a stupid grin on their face. “Well now I am curious what this method is, option B please.”

Right Hand withheld another sigh.

“Very well.”

Right Hand stepped around Civilian, disappearing behind them.  

“This will not be pleasant,” Right Hand said.

Civilian smiled and looked up into the camera.

“We’ll see about that.”

Right Hand placed their hands on Civilian’s head and Civilian stiffened, Right Hand closing their eyes. After a second Civilian’s closed too.

It felt like what Civilian imagined it would feel like to have your brain grabbed by someone’s bare hands while you were awake. There was a yanking sensation and Civilian fell back into themself, appearing in a library. Not a big, grand one with towering ceilings and beautiful architecture, but more of a run down school or council library, shelves lining the walls, old wooden tables and chairs placed in the centre of the clearing they stood. From the clearing there were six pathways made up of bookshelves, leading off into darkness. Civilian sat down on one of the tables as Right Hand looked around the place.

“Wow, this is pretty cool,” Civilian said. “Is this my mind?”

“Yes,” Right Hand said. “This room is based off a place very dear to you. Sometimes a place you don’t even remember. From here I can access every single one of your memories, and if you don’t tell me how you got in, and where the things you stole are, I am going to go through each of your memories until I find it.”

“Oh, I see. So you get to just go through everyone’s personal shit to get what you want.” They leaned back on the table, “hm, and I am guessing the person gets to experience their memories while you go through them.”

“Yes,” Right Hand said, “it can be very emotionally taxing and for some people, extremely unpleasant.”

“I can imagine,” Civilian said. “There has to be a way you know what you are looking for though, otherwise that’s a lot of shit for you to sift through.”

“I have ways,” Right Hand eyed them, “I don’t think you are appreciating what’s about to happen here.”

Civilian smiled, bubbling with excitement and anticipation. “Probably not.”

“This is your last chance to give me what I want.”

Civilian just smiled.

“Suit yourself.”

Right Hand turned and headed towards one of the paths, glancing back at Civilian one more time only to see them still grinning. Their expression creased but Right Hand kept moving approaching the first pathway.

However, before they could walk through, a silvery barrier stopped them.

“You people are always so cocky,” Civilian said now leaning forward, elbows on their knees. “Thinking you can do whatever, whenever you want just because you’re powerful. Heroes and Villains, honestly these days there isn’t much difference between you and you all seem to think you are the only ones.”

Right Hand turned around, unable to hide the shock in their face.

“Are you stopping me?”

“What ever do you mean?” The sarcasm dripped from their voice. “You’re the one invading my mind, how could I possibly have any power against you?”

Right hand glared, walked to a different path but was once against met with the same silvery energy. They turned, looked around and suddenly all paths had a silvery sheen blocking it.

“How are you doing this?”

Civilian shrugged and hopped off the table.

“You’re the one who made the mistake of going into the mind of a person you don’t understand.”

They waved their hand and a chair appeared out of no where, ramming into the back of Right Hand’s knees and forcing them to sit. The moment their limbs touched wood, the wood twisted and grew, wrapping around them, holding them in place. Right Hand struggled, but the wood bit into their skin.

Right Hand looked up, mouth open but all words failed them. They were no longer in a library, there was only a single bookshelf here, between the tv and the couch. They stood in a wooden cabin, snow falling outside the window.

“How…”

“Hey you’re the one who opened up a connection between our minds, not my fault you thought you were the only one who could use it.”

Civilian said striding over to the bookshelf.

“What are you doing?”

“I might as well get some information while I’m here.”

“Stop,” Right Hand pulled against the chair.

They did, turned around and smiled.

“Oh darling don’t stress,” suddenly they stood directly in front of Right Hand. “Here why don’t you relax a little, go for a walk.” They kicked the chair and Right Hand flew back.

The room vanished and Right Hand fell.

Their life flashed before their eyes, every moment consuming them in an instant. They felt all the pain they’ve ever felt, all the joy, the sadness, the terror. It was a vortex of everything funnelling through them, around them. Right Hand had no sense of anything, no sense of how much time passed or even what was happening. They saw faces of people they never wanted to see again, memories they had pushed down deep, sorrows they had fought to move past. And perhaps even worse, they saw the happy memories connected to those, the good parts of their life long behind them, ended abruptly and painfully.

Right Hand plummeted, and suddenly they weren’t.

Everything stopped all at once and Right Hand was back in Civilian’s library, except now the tables were broken, books scattered and Villain was their, holding Civilian by the throat, blood dripping from their nose.

Right hand couldn’t catch their breath, couldn’t stop the memories.

Villain appeared beside them, hands on their now free arms.

“Hey, you need to breath, focus on breathing, draw it in slow, let it out slow, long, deep and controlled, ok?” Villain squeezed their arms, “in,” they released the pressure, “out.”

Right Hand struggled to take in a breath, following Villains pattern of pressure.

“Good, nice and slow.”

Right Hand looked up, met Villain’s eyes, then looked passed them.  Civilian had been pushed against the wall, the material bending itself unnaturally around their wrists to hold them place. They glared, the first real look of emotion Right Hand had seen since walking into that room. They glared at Villain, but the anger went further out then that.

Without thinking Right Hand stood, gaze fixed on Civilian. Villain stepped back, letting Right Hand walk forward.

“You are looking for something,” Right Hand said.

“I’m not in the mood to talk,” They said.

“You’re angry.”

“This has put a dampener on my day, yes.”

Right hand stared at them, head cocked brows furrowed as the picture, the feeling blurred a little.

“You are hiding it from me.”

Civilian scoffed, “of course I am hiding it from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Villain came to Right Hand’s side and placed a hand on their shoulder.

“We should go before they regain control,” Villain said.

Right Hand nodded and without hesitation broke the connection.

Everyone shot back into their own mind and a migraine began forming in Civilian’s head. They groaned, pressed their palms into their forehead.

“You’re right Right Hand that was unpleasant.”

Right Hand stepped back, balling the hands into fists to try and stop them shaking. Villain was beside them, removed their own hands from Civilian and looked to Right Hand.

“You go, I’ve got this from here.”

Right Hand nodded and left without a single hesitation. Civilian watched them go out of the corner of their eye, watched Villain come around them.  

“You just keep getting more and more interesting don’t you.”

Villain rounded the table and Civilian raised their head to watch them.

“What can I say, I’m an interesting person.”

They stared each other down, Villain now standing on one side of the table, staring into those silvery eyes. But that wasn’t the only interesting part about them. The silver leaked out of the bottom of the pupil, like paint dripping out of its container, creating three uneven lines under their pupil.

Civilian had the advantage at least. They knew Villain, knew what they were capable of, their history, their goals. Villain was an open book who had shared their pages with the world. Civilian on the other hand was a nobody, a mystery. Villain knew nothing about them and would continue to know nothing until such a time Civilian decided to share, and that was never going to happen.

“So, what are we thinking here?” Civilian said, snapping the silence. “You’re friends trick didn’t work, and unless you want a mind to mind fist fight, you attempting the same thing won’t work, and I don’t feel like sharing much of anything with you.”

“Yes, we seem to be in a bit of a situation don’t we?” Villain took a seat. “It must feel nice, having the upper hand on the city’s greatest villain.”

“I really couldn’t care less about it,” Civilian said. “I’m not really into that kind of stuff.”

“And yet you stole from me,” Villain said.

Civilian scoffed, “what? Do you think I did that as some sort of power play? You had something that I needed so I took it, its not much more complicated then that.”

“It is though,” Villain said, the darkness in their voice startled Civilian a little. Damn that’s intimidating.

“Because,” Villain continued, “you didn’t take just anything from me, you took three of my most powerful and dangerous weapons, three. The book and the amulet I can understand, they have many uses and if one figures out how to use them, you can essentially do whatever. However, I am struggling to understand what possible use you would have for a reality bending bomb.”

“Are you worried I am going to hurt someone with it?” Civilian asked.

“No, I am worried you are going to fuck up my plans. I have built a very careful structure in this city and its still growing. Its not yet self sufficient, and a chuckle head like you coming in with a bomb and a Dark Grimoire would really fuck with me day.”

Civilian nodded, “that does sound like it would be annoying.”

Villain sighed and let irritation into their expression, studying Civilian. Clearly showing off wasn’t the point, because this would be the perfect moment for them to boast about their triumph. They have some sort of mission, a reason to need what they stole, but other then destroying the city, if not the world, Villain can’t think of what they may want. A bomb is a bomb, there are limited non-destructive goals with that, and the grimoire, well that could be anything.

“Do you even know magic?” Villain asked. “That book has killed many people trying to use it, if you don’t know what you are doing it will swallow you whole.”

“Are you trying to scare me into giving it up?” Civilian laughed, “is that the tactic you are going with?”

Villain shrugged, “you aren’t giving me much more to work with.” They leaned back, crossing their arms. “I could start threatening you. I could threaten to find your family and kill each of them until you give me my stuff back.”

There is a flicker of something in Civilian’s expression, not so much a hint of something but rather a sudden and purposeful lack of expression, as if they were working to hide a reaction. Villain studied it carefully.

“It doesn’t have to go that far though, just give me what I want, and you walk out of here scott free, without a second thought in the world.”

Civilian scoffed.

“You don’t believe me?” Villain asked.

“No, because even if I give it back to you, you still don’t know how I did it. You won’t let me leave here until you know exactly how I did it.”

“Hmm,” Villain hummed, “that is a good point. You are a security risk now, and I can’t have that.”

“So we are at an impasse here because I am not giving anything up and you aren’t letting me go.”

An impasse indeed…

“What are you looking for,” Villain asked.

Once again that purposeful stoic-ness lined Civilian’s features and their eyes shifted to the side.

“Why out of all the questions I’ve not answered do you think I will answer that?” Civilian asked.

Villain shrugged, “you kind of already have. You just confirmed for me that you are looking for something. Does it have to do with family?”

“If you think you’re going to-”

“So that’s a yes,” Villain said, “is it a family member or something else?”

Civilian’s jaw tightened.

“You’re looking for a person,” Villain said. A smile found their lips. “You have a terrible poker face by the way.”

Civilian glared at them, silvery eyes fierce and shining.

“This still helps you none,” Civilian said.

“On the contrary now I know you want something and I have something to offer you.”

That twisted Civilian’s expression, their brows furrowing, lips curving.

“You want to offer me a deal?”

Another shrug from Villain, “why is that surprising? If your ultimate goal is something else and I want my stuff back bad enough, it makes sense to take away your need for my stuff and help you achieve your goal.”

Civilian’s jaw ached from clenching it. It was an absolutely horrendous idea, and Villain shouldn’t be trusted for even a second. Not to mention the fact Villain is leaving the security risk aspect out of this and that Civilian has no confidence that at any point Villain will willingly let them go.

But they know that already. They are already planning to escape on their own and if Villain can help them, then they would have even more chance of escaping…

Civilian let out a breath, looked at Villain.

“I am looking for my son.”

   ~

Tags

@fishtale88

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

I am currently hyper focused on the trope of powerful or very skilled character just wants to be an unassuming civilian but trouble keeps finding them and they have to kick ass. So right now a lot of my shorts are just different iterations of that trope and I’m sorry but also really not because I am enjoying myself. 

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Old Friend

This is based in a world of one of the OC world’s that I want to turn into a bigger project but am using these snippets to further explore and expand the world. There is a little bit of context missing for the over all world here but trying to add it just made things too clunky but if you are interested I am more then happy to talk about my OC stuff. 

Summery: Hero finds a villain safe house and didn’t expect to find anything there. But they did, and they may regret it. 

CW: Guns, fighting, mourning, grief, talk of death, abuse, neglect, beatings, abandonment, being used, let me know if I missed anything. 

~

Hero would recognise their face anywhere, even after so long, even with age, Hero knew them. They could do nothing but stare, grief and guilt and confusion fighting for space inside of them. Their eyes watered, their stomach ached and Hero just stared

“Well, this is an inconvenience,” Villain sighed.

Hero’s mouth opened but their tongue didn’t work. The pair of them stood in the backyard of a house, some safehouse or other that Villain had been using. Hero had found the tip off but hadn’t expected anyone to be there, let alone them. Villain stood in the doorway of the house, a white light shining behind them, a yellow light shining down from the veranda making Hero feel dizzy.

“Childhood friend?” Hero found their tongue.

“It’s Villain now,” Villain said, “Childhood Friend died a long time ago.”

“You died,” Hero said. The grief and confusion gave rise, mixing with a twisted joy that wanted to pull Villain in and hug them tight. But Hero’s head swam, how were they alive? Why were they alive? And why were they here?

“I pretended to, yes,” Villain said curtly, “its easy when everyone already wants you dead.”

It took a moment to process that. To fit that into the alignment of memories, the funeral, the fire. And all this time they were still alive?

“But why? Why fake your own death?” Why leave me, they wanted to say. Didn’t.

“Why?” Villains brows shot up, “are you serious? Why? How about all the abuse, the neglect, the amount of times I was almost beat to death and the carers couldn’t care less. I was better off out on the streets then in that orphanage. If I hadn’t the tutors would have killed for sure, one more outburst and I was done for. Not that you ever believed that.”

“But why didn’t you tell me? We could have run away together.”

Villain snorted, it was the most heart-breaking sound in the world.

“Right because I was going to bring you with me after the way you reacted, not to mention if I took the golden child, they would have never stopped looking for us.”

Hero’s fist clenched, their jaw, everything tensed.

“I thought you cared about me, I thought we were friends,” Hero said.

“So did I, but you abandoned me first.”

“You murdered a tutor,” they yelled, “if I had any hope of getting into the gifted program I couldn’t take your side.”

Villain shook there head, “yeah because a program is more important then your friend.”

Yes, Hero wanted to say. They had, had plans, a way for them both to escape, but Villain went and messed that up. Because of Villain, Hero had to lie, had to pretend not to care.

“I’m glad to see it was at least worth it though, you seem very happy with your new life.”

Villain reached into their jacket. “Happy I get to be the one to end it,” they pulled out a gun.

Hero jerked back, held out their hands.

“What the fuck? You’re going to kill me?”

Villain shrugged, “you know who I am, I can’t very well let that get out now can I?”

Hero’s heart pounded in their chest. They wanted to scream and shout and punch through a wall, but their body froze.

“I thought you were dead,” Hero said, tear slipping from their eye. “I mourned for you, I held a funeral for you.”

Villain hesitated.

“I know, I saw.”

A burning rage rushed through Hero and they darted forward, snatching the gun from Villain’s hands. The pair fell into a wrestle, each fighting for the gun, grabbing each other’s hands and limbs, trying to pull them away.

The gun clattered away and Villain lunged for it, but Hero grabbed them by the waist and dragged them back, clambering over them, only to be brought down as well. Villain got on top, tried wrapping their hands around Hero’s throat but Hero grabbed their wrists, yanked them to the side and rolled over.

“I fought for you,” Hero yelled. “I risked my life for you.”

Villain ended up on top again.

“And yet you still betrayed me,” Villain snarled, punching Hero.

The punch hit them in the eye, knocked their head to the side but regardless Hero raised their hips, knocked Villain off.

“You betrayed me,” Hero snarled back.

Villain made a break for the gun, but Hero tackled them like a football player on a field.

“You abandoned me and left me alone with them.”

“You sided with them,” Villain said.

Hero sat on top of Villain, trapping their arms against their chest.

“You murdered someone, what was I supposed to say? That it was ok?”

Villain wormed underneath them.

“Yes, because they deserved it.”

“You murdered someone Villain, I couldn’t condone that, don’t. You can’t blame me for that, you had to face the consequences of your actions,” Hero said.

“I was a child!” Villain screamed.

Hero stopped, the pair of them panting, tears now streaming down Villain’s face.

“I was a child, and I didn’t deserve to be in that place,” Villain got their arms free and pushed Hero off. Hero let them. “If I hadn’t killed them that day, they would have killed me.”

Hero stared.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” their voice came out smaller then expected, further away.

“I tried to,” Villain said, “but the moment you heard about the murder… the look in your eyes, I knew that was it. You were gone and I could no longer rely on you.”

Hero’s jaw tightened again.

“Villain I was trying to get us both out of there. With the gifted program you get resources you don’t get anywhere else. It was our only option. Do you think it was easy for me there? That just because I made them like me means they treated me any better? That place was built by monsters and run by them. If you had just played along long enough, none of this would have happened.”

“Played a long!?” Villain gaped, “did you miss the part about them trying to kill me?”

Hero opened their mouth, closed it.  

“You say all this,” Villain said, rising, “that you wanted to be free, and yet here you are, still working for them.”

Hero hesitated.

“What else was I going to do. The only person I cared about abandoned me, left me. I had no one else.”

Villain glared, “that’s just an excuse. The moment you were old enough you could have run and you didn’t because you liked getting their hand outs.”

“I-”

“Are you going to call me a liar? Say that I am wrong?”

No, Hero couldn’t, because they were right, they could have run away. But where? If they played along, let them use Hero’s power then at least they had somewhere to stay, food on the table, even money to buy themself things. With them they had the closest thing to comfort and security they could, and all they had to do was help prosecute the very people they were raised with. People like Villain.

“You destroy lives for your own selfish greed, for your own comfort.” Villain laughed bitterly, “you’re even made at me because I had no choice but to defend myself, to run away to save my own life. If you were a true friend, you would have listened to me, understood. You are nothing but selfish and I am ashamed to have ever called you a friend.”

Hero hadn’t realised it but Villain had picked up their gun again.

“Hope you enjoyed this little reunion,” Villain said.

~

Hope you enjoyed!

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

I want to work on all my projects at once... therefor I can work on no projects at all. 

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Burn

This isn’t my best work, its a little experimental and very short but for some reason I have a deep desire to just post it as is, so here you go. 

CW: Blood, death, fire, missing person

~

Something had been wrong for weeks now, or perhaps it was something very right. The air had shifted, thicker yet sharper, confusing in a tantalising way. Villain’s world had fallen silent, no whispers in the world of Hero’s, no secret missions reaching their ear, no information at all. It was as if all the Heroes had just vanished.

Villain searched, casually at first, frantically after, when the world really had seemed empty. Not literally, no, there were still plenty of civilians to torment, people to spread fear within, turn over to the supposed dark side. But Villain didn’t care about them. They cared about the Heroes. They cared about Hero.

And when things got desperate Villain was not afraid to take the leap, to break their own rules. The Heroes’ castle was a place of extremely high security, somewhere you only messed with if you were prepared to die along the way. Not that the general public was aware of that, they only got to see the arrest side of it, not the execution block out back.,

At least the Villains’ compound killed you outright, they weren’t afraid to show their true colours.

And they aren’t afraid to show the growing uncertainty on their face, the dread. Smoke billowed out of the castle, sections of walls blown out, guards burnt to crisps, exploded into gooey bits. It was a complete and utter massacre.

Villain walked through carefully, avoiding rubble and fire and pools of blood, but after a while they had to give up that feat.

Their voice found them before they found it.

“Hero?”

The sound was swallowed in the swirl of light and dark, fire burning through curtains, crackling on wooden supports. This was still recent, this had just happened. How had they not known? How had no one known?

They swallowed thick saliva, their tongue drying against the roof of their mouth as they breathed in the hot air and fear.

“Hero?”

They moved faster through the mess, dancing through the shadows to avoid the struggle across rubble. Their voice made it further then they expected.

Detecting movement was hard but a figure seemed to shift up ahead, standing much more upright then the ones around Villain. They moved, melting into darkness and travelling like a wispy smoke.

The figure whipped around with a flash of burning light as Villain reformed and the fire stopped centimetres from their face. They stared through it, as best they could, at the eyes they barely recognised.

“Hero?” An actual question now.

Hero lowered the fire, their gaze lifeless and hateful.

“Villain…” their voice sounded surprised to whatever degree they were currently capable.

The relief that flood Villain was borderline overwhelming. A wash of relaxation and a hint of excitement that brought a smile Villain couldn’t fight. They found their hero, but also they found their hero changed.

“What happened?”

Villain looked about them, at the death and chaos, the apocalypse they had always dreamed of. Hero didn’t look, didn’t move. Villain’s gaze returned to Hero.

“Did you do this?”

It was a stupid question, but Villain wanted to hear the answer noen the less. Hero was covered heard to toe in dry blood, their clothes were torn, charred, fire still blazing in their hands. This massacre was theirs, no questions, many questions but no doubt.

“Is this not what you have always wanted?” Hero’s voice sounded so distant, as if they weren’t truly in their body. Villain doubted it they were even aware of themself right now.

“Yes, I have dreamt of this day for years, but you haven’t,” Villain cupped Hero’s chin, examined Hero’s bloody face.

“I want them to burn…”

“It seems you have succeeded at that.”

“I want them all to burn.” Hero said, “everyone.”

“Now you are sounding like me,” Villain’s head tilts, “what happened?”

Hero stares off, watching things Villain isn’t privy to. It fuels the fire around them, their hands burning brighter.

“They deserve it.”

Villain watches them, smiles.

“Yes they do.”

“I want to burn the world.”

“I can see that.”

“Will you help me?”

“Of course I will, what kind of friend do you think I am?”

Shadows dance around them, rising of the fires, putting them out as they knit together, growing thicker and strong before encompassing them both entirely.

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

This is a vent, I talk about ADHD and life and meds and mental health. I say just way too much in this. 

I feel like my ADHD is just constantly winning lately. I could be so much further then I am with my writing. I have scripts coming out of my ears, novels, podcasts, short films, so many things I could be doing things with, more then just writing and never sharing them. I know people who I went to uni with who have done just that. They’ve met up with actors and directors and just done the things they want to do, and I just don’t. This doesn’t even just apply to my writing, there are so many things I want to do in my life that would greatly improve it, and I just don’t, no matter how hard I try. Honestly I almost feel helpless at this point. And I have no support, meds aren’t helping, I can’t get into a good psychiatrist and I’ve read all the google tips I can find and nothing seems to help. I just feel defeated.

My anxiety wants me to delete this but I’m just going to post it and forget about it because its not like I have anyone else who will listen to this and I can always delete it later. 

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Their Favourite Hobby

Hero x Villain. Hero is Villains favourite hobby, and they are always making opportunities to spend more time with them. Hero isn’t complaining, until Villain starts getting a little too close. 

CW: Implied abuse, kidnapping, forced support (like doesn’t give other person a choice in accepting help). I’m not sure what else to flag, let me know if I missed anything important. 

~

This was getting old.

Not only that but it was bad for Hero’s reputation. Four times this last week alone Villain had cornered or captured them, and when you add up the whole month it’s just not good. Not that Hero minded.  

Villain stood at the open end of the alleyway, that stupid cocky grin on their face as they blocked Hero’s only escape. Not that they were much of an obstacle, not to Hero at least. The alleyway wasn’t the nicest place to rendezvous, lined with brick walls, rickety metal stairs on one side leading to the back entrance of a closed down restaurant. The only light was an old bulb above Hero’s head and the moon behind Villains.

Hero let out a sigh but couldn’t keep the smirk from their lips as they watched Villain saunter towards them.

“People are going to start thinking you’re obsessed with me you know,” Hero said.

“Well, they wouldn’t be wrong,” Villain said.

Hero rolled their eyes.

“It’s unhealthy, really. Don’t you have any hobbies?”

Villain stopped about metre away, illuminated by the light above Hero. It was a shitty yellow light that would have made anyone else looking off coloured and sick, but nothing seemed to taint the light that shone in Villain’s eyes. How could they be the bad guy? How could they be on the opposite sides?

“I have plenty of hobbies, you just happen to be one of them.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about being someone’s hobby,” Hero said.

Hero leant against the wall behind them, cold brick pressing into their aching muscles. It had been a long day, and this was a welcome break.

“I promise you,” Villain drawled, “I mean it as a compliment.” They moved to Hero’s side, leaning on the wall beside them, hands tucked into their pockets as they looked up at the starless sky. Hero looked up with them, because if they didn’t, they would have looked at them and that would betray too much. When was the last time they’d even seen the stars? The last time they’d been out of this polluted city?

“So, what’s the excuse today? Are you gonna try and convince me to join your side? Give in to my inner darkness?”

The Villain laughed. Hero hadn’t heard them laugh before, not like this at least. They’d heard their cruel laugh, the laugh that bubbles out in interrogations and negotiations, though that word is used very loosely. But this laugh was different, more melodic, happy.

“While all that sounds grand, I was actually thinking of something simpler,” Villain said.

Hero frowned, and when they said nothing, Villain continued.

“Well, I was thinking, since we’ve been getting along so well lately.”

Hero snorted but didn’t argue.

“I was wondering if you’d do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me.”

Hero felt many things at once and it was an absolute tidal wave in their chest. They hadn’t expected that sort of request. Sure, Villain was attractive and definitely not as bad as Hero’s bosses had made them out to be, but they weren’t sure dinner was even close to a good idea. Or something they wanted. Yes, they had come to enjoy the Villain’s interruptions to Hero’s daily life. They’d come to look forward to when Villain pop in and whisk them away for a few hours, usually spending the time ranting and vaguely interrogating them. But dinner?

Never mind the fact that dinner, even if a seemingly simple thing to Villain, was far from it for Hero.

Amongst the chaos in their mind Hero managed out a laugh, pushing themself off the wall.

“Dinner? With you?”

“You make it sound like you don’t want to,” Villain smirked, stepping away with them. They moved closer, and Hero took a step back but only found the other side of the suddenly too small alleyway. “Come on you know I’m not an idiot,” Villain said. “I, more than anyone, know what you really think,” they said.

They were so close now Hero could barely breath or else breath in their warm and intoxicating scent. It took them a long time to realise that wasn’t one of Villain’s many tricks. That it was something real, something they wanted to be closer to.

“I don’t,” Hero tried, but their voice didn’t convince anyone.

Villain cocked a brow, reached forward and gently picked up their wrist. Hero wanted to wrench it away, keep Villain from touching them, but that in itself would be an admission of the lie.

“Say that again,” Villain said, their fingers soft and warm against Hero’s skin.

Hero rolled their eyes. “You know I don’t need to.”

“Then why did you lie?”

Hero took in a breath, looked down at Villain’s hand on their wrist. This was one of Villain’s tricks. To be able to know truth from lie with a single touch.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hero tried.

They tried to push past Villain, end this all now before despair could come crashing down on them, but Villain stopped them, gripping their wrist a little tighter, palm on their chest to hold them back against the wall. Hero could have broken free, easily. They didn’t.  

Villain looked to them, the mischievous glint in their eye fading, their brows knitting together as they took in whatever information the lie brought them.

“What’s wrong?” They asked.

If Hero said nothing that would just bring more light to the issue and if they said the truth... well, they don’t want to do that. They don’t want that face to hold pity. It’s the only one that cared that didn’t.

“We won’t work,” Hero said. “We’re on separate sides and if either side finds out we’re doomed.”

That frown continued as Villain studied Hero.

“That’s not what you care about though.” Villain said. “At least not all. Besides my side won’t give two shits. It’s kind of our thing to do whatever we want.”

Hero said nothing.

Villain’s grip softened again, moved a little further up Hero’s arm. “You can talk to me you know. I’m not going to judge you like they do.”

Hero knew that. It brought them sense of pride in fact. Hero was the only person in the world it seemed that Villain was soft with. Was caring and even thoughtful. They don’t even know how it had happened, when it had started. Hero had certainly experienced Villain’s darker side, but at some point, it stopped, it shifted and neither two could stand hurting the other.

“It’s not like you need me to tell you right?” Hero said, meeting their eyes. “You can just find out for yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Villain said. “Unless, of course, you want me to.”

Hero took in another breath, struggling to breathe for a different reason now.

“It feels stupid to say aloud,” they said.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Villain said, “just don’t lie to me about how you really feel.”

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, dropped their gaze.

“Sorry.”

Villain reached up and cupped their face, turning Hero’s gaze to them.

“But, if it has something to do with the other heroes, if they try and hurt you in anyway I will burn everything to the ground.”

Hero didn’t need to have Villain’s powers to know that was the truth. It brought tears to their eyes. They tried to fight them, blink them back, but their vision blurred, and the words fell out of their mouth without their control. A quiet whisper.

“And what if they already have?”

When the tear fell, and Hero could see again there was fury in Villain’s eyes. And regret filled Hero’s chest, sharp and tight.

“What did they do?” Their voice was strained.

Hero shook their head, pushing Villain’s hands away as they wiped away their tears.

“It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Of course, it matters. Hero, are they hurting you?”

Hero pushed past them tried heading towards the exit of the alleyway. Villain grabbed their arm, but Hero didn’t let them keep it, spinning around and pulling their hand back.

“Just drop it. Its best for everyone if you do. Look, you’re right, ok? I like you, I really do, but this can’t work out. I’m... my life isn’t the life you think it is and it just won’t work, ok? We can’t even be friends.”

“Hero stop,” Villain said chasing after them.

“Just leave me alone.”

“I’m not letting you go back there if they’re hurting you,” Villain said.

They were out of the alleyway now, about to turn left down the street, but Villain quickly moved in front of them again.

“Stop,” they demanded.

Hero’s jaw tightened, but they paused.

“Why would you go back to them if they’re hurting you?” They asked.

Hero shook their head. “They aren’t hurting me, I didn’t mean to say that.” A weak lie, pathetic. Villain didn’t need to use their power to see through it.

“Don’t lie to me,” Villain said.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

There was anger laced in Villains voice, a deadly tone that, while Hero knew wasn’t aimed towards them, made them shiver. They just shook their head again.

“It’s not what you think, not exactly. Look I can’t leave, even if I wanted to and that’s as much as I’m going to tell you.”

Hero pushed passed Villain again.

“I’m sorry about this,” Villain said.

They grabbed Hero again, but this time before Hero could free themself a blinding pain shot through their head. After that everything went black.

~

Part 2