#electric hero

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XVII)

Unforeseen Side-effect

Part One // Masterpost // Continued from here

~*~*~*~*~*~

Kit sat up with an effort, his entire body tensing as he moved. Aftershocks still singed his nerves as he moved, eliciting sharp hisses of pain.

What the hell was that thing, that red lightning? And why did he only get it around Ambrose?

“I assume that it’s a wild manifestation of your abilities,” Ambrose said from the kitchen. Kit rolled his eyes, about to curse the villain out if a sudden wave of nausea didn’t hit him and stop him in his tracks.

The world was spinning, lethargically slow, and closing his eyes didn’t exactly help matters. What the fuck was that red lightning? Why did it leave him so… weak?

Kit stopped beside the couch, pressing his back against it while he caught his breath and stifled the whine that threatened to spill from the back of his throat.

“You are as pale as a ghost,” Ambrose told Kit with a smirk. “Except for those eyes of course. And your veins.”

Kit’s eyes widened. His veins? What was Ambrose talking about now? Kit brought his hands in front of his eyes, any colour left in him draining as he saw the same angry, neon red colour had permeated all of his veins. Kit rolled up his sleeves, and there they were. Then the cuffs of his jeans, and the veins were there too.

“You’re like a walking glow-stick.”

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” Kit said with a groan, gfalling to his hands and knees and pushing himself to get up. He froze, hitting an invisible wall and plopped back down to his arse again. Red eyes met Ambrose’s black ones. “Can you let me stand up?”

I thought you told me to shut up, Ambrose’s voice sounded in Kit’s mind, the same stupid smirk on his same stupid face.

Kit banged his head against the couch with a groan. “You’re such a dickhead! You can give commands through thoughts! Why are you even here?! Why do you love to torture me?” Kit demanded, his voice turning hysterical. “Is this all part of Supervillain’s plan? To drive me mad too?”

The humour vanished from Ambrose’s face in the blink of an eye. “Do I look like I work well with others, Mallory?”

Kit blinked, his eyebrows pinching together, forming a furrow between. “What?”

Ambrose walked forward, closing the distance between them, stopping in front of Kit’s outstretched legs. “Do I look like I take orders from people?”

“No?”

“Then why,” Ambrose began, his voice darkening. “Would you think that I would throw my lot in with Supervillain of all people?”

Kit bent his knee and pushed himself into a straighter sitting position. He threw his hands up in a helpless gesture. “Then what the fuck were you doing on the docks that night?”

Ambrose’s features hardened. “The night I met you?”

“No, the other night on the docks.” Kit deadpanned.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Ambrose said with a shrug. “You can blame that preppy little water hero, what was her name again?”

“Tides.”

“That’s it,” Ambrose said with a click of his fingers. “Tides. The perfect foil to your electricity, Kit. Maybe I should bring her over someti—”

“If you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.” Ambrose raised his brows, slightly taken aback. Maybe it was the vibrant crackle in his eyes or the echo in his voice, but something about him at that moment didn’t feel like Kit. It felt like something else. Something… wild.

“Promises, promises,” Ambrose said with a wave. “You can stand, Mallory. Clearly, we need to have a long overdue conversation.”

Ambrose walked back to the kitchenette, and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet preparing their coffee and tea. Kit slowly, achingly slow, got to his feet, his entire body zapped of energy. He dragged himself to his table and settled heavy into the chair, ignoring how breathless he was from such a light movement.

Ambrose joined him a few minutes later, neither of them speaking to each other. Ambrose set the coffee in front of Kit, and Kit said: “thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ambrose told him lightly. Ambrose stood again and walked towards Kit, reaching out.

Kit flinched back, throwing his hands up, red eyes pleading. “No, Ambrose no more, please.”

“Relax, Mallory. I’m just undoing the tie.” Ambrose told him. He waited until Kit relaxed, his hands lowering, a wary glint in his eyes as Ambrose started forward again. He quickly undid the knot in the tie, Kit refusing to look at him, instead focusing on the wall behind him. He could smell Ambrose’s expensive cologne from the space between them. It smelled nice, but it was deathly silent.

It was awkward, to say the least.

Ambrose finished with a flourish, gently pulling the fabric from Kit’s throat, sending shivers down his spine. Ambrose folded the tie neatly as he sat down again opposite Kit. When his black eyes flicked up to Kit’s he let out a low whistle, his eyes going to the red bruise around Kit’s throat. It would fade in an hour or two.

“What?” Kit snapped.

A ghost of a smirk flashed over Ambrose’s lips as he picked up his steaming mug. “Let’s just say you have a necktie of your own, now.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck right off, Rosey.” Kit took his own mug and took a sip of the steaming black coffee. His arm spasmed as the liquid met his tongue and spilled coffee all over his arm. Kit hissed, cursing as he wiped the liquid off, humming the pain away.

Ambrose’s dark eyes narrowed over his cup. “Aftershock?”

Kit shook his head. “I don’t know what this is,” he said weakly.

“Hmm.” Ambrose set his mug down on the table, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. “In any case, we need to discuss your theory on Supervillain.”

“You said you’re not working for him.”

Ambrose didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not, but I am interested to hear your theory.”

“That night on the docks,” Kit repeated.

“I didn’t start a fight with Tides on the dock, Kit. She started a fight with me. I was simply defending myself.”

“And I’m sure you forced her to radio for help, right?”

Ambrose blinked. “No.”

Kit scoffed. “Sure you didn’t.”

“No,” Ambrose said again, straightening his spine. “I didn’t. If I did, I would tell you, Mallory. I’m an honest man.”

“She radioed Superhero and I while we were fighting a fire Villain that was threatening to burn down the residential area in seventh.”

“I never told her to do anything like that, Mallory. I wanted a quiet night. Tides somehow recognised me, and then I had my fun with her.” A shadow of a smirk passed over Ambrose’s face. “Though she wasn’t half as fun as you were.”

Kit frowned. “But that night there was— it felt like there were a series of co-ordinated attacks across the city.”

“Except I didn’t attack your water hero. How many times must I repeat myself?”

“Sorry if you’re a little hard for me to trust right now, Rosey!” Kit growled, slamming his hand on the table. The red in his veins pulsed and burned brighter. Even the blood vessels inside his mouth were emitting light, as if he had just swallowed the sun. “All you’ve done since I’ve met you is torture me, use my own powers against me, broke into my apartment—”

“Kit—” Ambrose said, but sparks flew from Kit’s body as he continued, getting angrier and angrier. Burning hotter and hotter, the light getting brighter and brighter.

“Laughed at me while you beat me, terrorised my every waking moment, kidnapped me and tied me up so you could hurt me some more, or shall I go on?!” His voice crackling at the end like static over an old radio that had lost signal.

“Kit, you need to calm down.” Ambrose said softly, eyes weary at the sparks and heat that was coming off the hero in front of him.

“Wow, look at you, Rosey. How far we’ve come. You’re scared of me for once,” Kit said, planting his hands on the table and rising to his feet. “Good.”

Kit raised his hand, pointing his index finger at Ambrose and raising his thumb, curling his hand into a finger gun. Then he lowered his thumb with a soft: “pew.”

Ambrose went hurtling back against the wall to Kit’s room, cracking the plaster on impact. Ambrose groaned as he fell to the ground, forcing his eyes to focus, but his brain was fried. Everything was coming too slowly for him to react.

Kit stepped around the table, following the telepath. Each step sent jolts of energy through his limbs but Kit couldn’t help it. He kind of liked it. This raw power coursing through him. It made him feel in control.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. That this was wrong, that this wasn’t him. Oh this was Kit alright. This was all of Kit’s bottled up emotions, finally breaking free and showing Ambrose who really had the power in their relationship.

Kit stopped in front of Ambrose, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. He shoved him against the wall, not shocking him, not yet. He just wanted to savour the look of fear in the villain’s face for once. The villain’s disheveled state, where strands of his perfect hair fell over his face, out of his control.

“Mallory, this isn’t you,” Ambrose told him.

Kit tilted his head. “Aww, is that really all you can think of in your defence, Rosey? It’s hard to think with electricity shocking your nervous system, isn’t it?”

“Kit—”

“Kit’s not home right now,” Kit cut in, chuckling darkly. The sound echoing in static across the apartment. “Or, well, he is. He’s me, I’m him. Let’s just say, his compassionate, heroic side isn’t steering the ship at the moment.”

Ambrose clenched his jaw. “Then which part am I speaking to?”

“The one that you created, Rosey.” Kit told him with a threatening purr. His smile widened as Ambrose paled. “The beaten, pathetic, powerless one that gathered every time you told us — not to use our powers. Every time Kit reached for them and couldn’t find them, guess what happened? I was born. A well of kinetic and potential energy, bubbling under the surface, safe in Kit’s subconscious.” Kit laughed and Ambrose flinched. “I liked you, Rosey. You just kept building, and building, and building me up until I spilled over. But y’know what? I like being in the driver seat. It’s fun being conscious.”

Ambrose didn’t know what to do as he stared at the monster in front of him. The monster that he created? Nobody had ever had side effects like this before, well, none that he of. Certainly not enough to make another personality emerge in the subconscious, but then again…

Ambrose set his mouth into a thin line. Kit was top of his class for a reason. Mentor chose him for a reason, and if Kit wasn’t lethal enough with just his skills his ability — electricity — was pure energy, pure force. It would take a lot for Kit to be able to control it, let alone suppress it. Ambrose vaguely recalled studying electricity in school, and all the different types of it.

No, that’s not what he should focus on.

His mind quickly poured over Kit’s words again until he found it, the important information. “Kit’s not home right now. Or well, he is. He’s me, I’m him. Let’s just say, his compassionate, heroic side isn’t steering the ship at the moment.”

Perfect. That meant all Ambrose had to do was reach in and pull the real Kit out to the forefront of his mind. Put him back in control.

Ambrose reached into Kit’s mind, quickly searching the strange cavern until he saw him. Not Kit, but a pulsing ball of blue electricity buried deep in the darkness.

“Mallory!” Ambrose called, his voice echoing in Kit’s mind. “Mallory wake—”

Ambrose screamed as he was pulled out of Kit’s head. It felt as if his body was burning under a stream of molten lava, singeing every nerve and fibre of his being. Every muscle seized and contracted, robbing every thought from his brain before eventually it stopped and he fell forward. His head fell onto Kit’s shoulder, his body riding out the aftershocks with a cry.

“Naughty, naughty Rosey. It’s rude to ask for someone else to join us when the fun’s only beginning! You get to play with Kit all the time, I never get to play with you.”

“Kit—” Ambrose said with a breath, his voice coming out weaker than he had ever heard it.

“Don’t worry. I know how much volts it takes to kill a human, and I only used a fraction of that on you, Rosey. See? We’re still friends! I would be nothing without you.” Kit grabbed Ambrose’s head and straightened him back against the wall. “So, how about we make this party really fun and use half the amount it takes to kill—“”

Kit shut up suddenly, stepping back. Ambrose slid heavy down the wall, mind racing. He had the right mind to glance up at Kit to see a resolute expression grace his lips.

“Ambrose, put me to sleep. Now! Fucking—” Kit dropped to his knees, screaming as red and blue sparks erupted around him. No, not around him. From him. Ambrose looked away, throwing his elbow up to shield his eyes. “AGGGGHHH! NOW! DON’T—”

Ambrose took a sharp breath and slammed his hand out. He reached into Kit’s mind and pulled the plug. Kit’s muscles went rigid, his arms dropping to his sides before he fell to the ground. Ambrose let out a gasp, falling forward to his hands and knees.

Ambrose sucked in a breath, his muscles trembling to keep him up. Fuck.

He pushed himself back onto his arse, eyes locked on the unconscious hero in front of him. His body still pulsed with energy, but at least he was out cold. Ambrose pressed a hand against his chest, still feeling the burn from Kit’s hand on his chest.

He glanced down, brows pinching together when he saw the char mark in the shape of a handprint on his shirt. Ambrose scoffed. “You little shit,” he said to Kit. “This shirt costs more than your apartment.”

Ambrose got to his feet with a groan. It has been a long time since somebody hurt him like that. Well, not counting all the times when Kit had surprised him. He let out a breath, that sounded eerily similar to a laugh, when he remembered Kit knocking him out and waking up tied up and gagged. Oh, those were the days.

He walked over to Kit’s coatrack by the door and rooted around in his overcoat pockets until his fingers touched the metal rings. He pulled them out and released them with a dull thunk.

He personally preferred not having to use Kit’s power dampeners. They weren’t exactly a tool that Ambrose needed. Besides, it was much more fun to force Kit to inhibit his own ability, but Ambrose had told him not to use his powers. He had done that, and somehow, the other Kit somehow managed to access his electricity to overpower Ambrose.

Ambrose walked over to the Hero, staring down at him with something unreadable crossing his expression. This was the kid that Mentor took under his wing, huh? He could see why Mentor would choose him, of all the heroes in the world, never mind the city, he’s the Hero Ambrose chose too, coincidentally.

Entirely coincidental.

It was strange.

There was something about Kit, something about him that drew people in like moths to a flame, but looking down at him now, Ambrose took in how young Mallory looked.

He was everything Ambrose wasn’t; where Ambrose was pale, Kit had a honeyed tan to his skin, and where Ambrose was dark haired, Kit’s hair was light brown. Not to mention the differences between Kit’s ridiculous haircut and Ambrose’s. Honestly, would it kill him to run a comb through his hair every once in a while?

Then again Mentor always had a soft spot for broken things, and who could ever compete with some scrappy orphan?

Ambrose sighed as he crouched in front of Kit, reaching forward to grab the boy’s wrists. A jolt of electricity passed through Ambrose’s arm and he cursed, yanking his hand back and shaking it.

“Even unconscious you’re still a pain in the ass,” Ambrose muttered, carefully reaching forward again and snapping the cuff around Kit’s wrist without touching him. The brightness in his veins dimmed and went out completely after Ambrose snapped the cuff on other his wrist.

He touched Kit’s hand again, testing the waters, and there was no shock or jolt that ran through him. Good. Ambrose got to his feet, satisfied that Kit wasn’t a live wire anymore and walked towards Kit’s bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and grabbed one of Kit’s sweaters, then paused, stretching the fabric.

God. The boy didn’t look this skinny. Ambrose had broad shoulders, something he was proud of, but at the moment he wished he was the same build as the young hero. He put the sweater back in and pulled out a larger hoodie. It was ugly but it’d do.

All of his insulators were back at his house, which meant he’d have to take Kit back too. He needed answers. He needed to understand why Mentor chose Kit, why he took him, why he raised him to follow in his footsteps.

He needed to know why Kit thought Ambrose was working with Supervillain. Too many unanswered questions for his liking, too many variables, and all of them hinged on the volatile hero in front of him. Well, Ambrose never got to where he was today without a little hard work.

At least, he noted, it was dark outside, so he could throw the unconscious hero into the backseat without too many questions.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @stefaniesblogs @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump

[lice-haver]

Friendly reminder that Will Solace canonically sang a song so pretty it made little yellow flowers grow up out of the ground.

[herbarimoon]

Day 22 - Candy

+ alt version

[systarkitty]

hapy 2014 tumblr!!!!!! ^_^_^_^_^

[puppyaulait]

[reapersmarch]

"good morning!"

(au where nothing bad happens and they're just stupid gay retired and married and not on the brink of complete and utter ruination please god)

[littlebitofdnd]

I think, in a world where Geoffery is alive, Tula still fucks Bennett, but the three of them get very polycule very quickly. We don't actually know Geoffery's personality but if he wanted to date Tula in her hoe phase, he woulda tapped Bennett, and thats that.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Hi! This is my first ask so I'm a tad bit nervous. I was wondering if you could do something where a hero has a migraine but fights villain anyway because they're stubborn? Thank you!

Hi megreads22! Sorry it took forever to get to this, but I tried my best! Here you go!

Hero cursed the sunny day, trying to stay out of the light. It only made the stabbing pain behind their eyes that much worse. It felt like someone was taking an ice pick to their head right through their eye. Even so, they had a job to do, and they weren’t going home until they had finished it.

“Villain,” Hero called, “party's over, get down here before I make you!”

Villain turned from the electrical fire they had caused across the power grid. The crackle and fizz of sparks could be heard as they trotted over to Hero. They snapped their fingers, causing more little sparks to fly.

“Here to stop me? Did I interrupt your Netflix streaming, little Hero?” Villain cackled.

Hero was much less amused. They let the ice crystals form in their palms, a chill whipping through the otherwise hot power plant.

“Turn yourself in while I put out these fires, and then- agh!”

Hero stopped mid-demand, putting a hand to their head. The ice pick pain had increased with a vengeance. Now the other side of their head throbbed and pulsated.

“Hero?” Villain asked.

Hero held up a finger.

“One second,” they winced through gritted teeth.

“What is it?”

The flames whipped around the grid, but the only thing on Hero's mind was their head and how much it hurt. Orange and yellow licked up metal coils while wires frayed. Before they knew it, Villain was at Hero’s side.

Hero went to throw a defensive punch. Villain caught their hand gently.

“Hey, easy, easy,” they said, “why are you out here if you're having a migraine?”

“Because you're out here,” Hero said, fighting back another cry.

“Well we can remedy that right now,” Villain said.

Villain picked Hero up in a bridal carry and fled from the power plant. Sirens wailed as firefighters arrived on the scene to take care of the blaze. While a few of them questioned where Hero was, all of them got to work anyway.

…

Villain set Hero down on their couch, then rifled through their medicine cabinet for pain relievers.

“You really shouldn’t have come to fight me if you were feeling this bad,” Villain admonished.

Hero only groaned in response. Villain handed them the pain relievers and a glass of water. Hero chased the pills with their drink, then slowly lowered themselves down, letting their aching head rest on a pillow. Villain pulled the window shades so that it was dark inside the living space. They knelt down by Hero’s side.

“What else can I get for you?” they asked gently.

“I don’t know, nothing helps,” Hero whimpered, screwing their eyes shut.

“Can we try a hot compress? I know your powers kind of cancel heat out, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

Hero held out a thumbs-up, as nodding would only make things worse. Villain left and returned shortly with a hot washcloth. They held it up against Hero’s head, applying a little bit of pressure. Hero sighed, feeling the slightest bit of relief.

“Thank you.”

Villain nodded.

“You stay here and rest. As for me, I guess I’m putting my evil schemes on hold for now…”

Hero, despite the pain, let the ghost of a smirk cross their features.

“Don’t get used to it, Hero,” Villain huffed, “this is only because I like you so much.”

“I am very likeable,” Hero agreed weakly.

“No more talking,” Villain said, “rest.”

So Hero did rest, and a few days later, they were back to normal, thanks to Villain and their caretaking. The next time they got a migraine, Villain would make sure Hero rested properly.

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Redbubble

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes

[wishecho]

old comic i forgot to ever post LEL. i imagine it would take a while for him to get used to the members of class a’s… quirks

(+ lil continuation i didn’t like as much under cut)

i thought it was uggo LOL

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXI)

Keep your friends close

Read part one here // masterpost // continued from here

As promised besties!

~*~*~*~*~*~

When they arrive at Kit’s apartment, Kit leans forward and frowns. “I think that’s Superhero’s car.”

Ambrose doesn’t respond as he parks the car and the pair get out. Superhero does the same, but it’s more of an effort for him. He opens the door and then kicks it open with his boot, grabbing the top of the door with his hand and pulling himself up and out of the car. Only when he closes the door does Kit see why.

“Superhero…” Kit said, looking for the words. Superhero looked like shit. As if he had just been caught up in a sudden all-out brawl with an army of villains attacking at once. He tried for a dim smile, but the effort seemed to aggravate his black and blue bruised eye and jaw.

He walked with a limp, his movements slow and staccato-ed, as if he were a hundred-year-old man and not the best active Superhero in the city. Kit went to him, despite his protests and threw his arm over Kit’s shoulder, helping him towards the steps of Kit’s apartment.

Ambrose went ahead and opened the door for Kit and Superhero, holding it open while Kit half-dragged Superhero inside and to the kitchen chairs. Superhero shrugged Kit away. “Stop with the fuss, Kit. I’m fine. I can walk on my own.”

Kit frowned, stepping back. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“What do you think happened?” Superhero snapped, wincing as he shifted his weight to one leg. “Mentor happened.”

Kit glanced at Ambrose before speaking. “The new Supervillain? No, Superhero it’s not Mentor.”

“How do you know!” Superhero spat. “You weren’t there, Mallory! Where were you?”

“I was—” Kit began, but was cut off when Superhero was in his face a second later, curling his fingers into the fabric of Kit’s shirt and slamming him back against the wall. The effect stealing his breath for a moment.

“WHERE WERE YOU?! I called and you didn’t come! You didn’t answer, and you call yourself a Hero?!”

The words were like a slap in the face, burning Kit as Superhero spoke them. “That’s enough,” Ambrose said, his voice hard.

Superhero didn’t look at him. “This doesn’t concern you. This is a work matter.”

“And if you don’t want to get more bruised up than you already are, I suggest you step back,” Ambrose said, his voice oozing with cold authority. Kit’s wide blue eyes went to Ambrose who was defending him. “Now.”

Superhero scoffed and pushed against Kit’s chest before releasing him and turning in place, his hand going to the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you pick up?” Superhero asked again, his voice hollow.

It was as if lightning struck his heart, splintering it down the middle. “I didn’t have my phone.”

Superhero laughed, a dry, humourless thing. “You didn’t have your phone,” he repeated. “Is that what I’ll say to the Mayor when she questions me about the new supervillain? Sorry about the damage, Mayor, my heroes didn’t have their phones so we were short-staffed.”

“It’s not Mentor,” Kit told him. Superhero looked over his shoulder at Kit, his eyes burning.

“What?”

Kit took a breath. “It’s not Mentor. We just confirmed his alibi.”

Superhero laughed again, turning to face them, this time loud and hysterical, unhinged. It left Kit feeling a little colder. Superhero spread his arms out wide.

“You just confirmed an alibi? Of the only man in the city’s history that uses telekinesis?! That’s where you were! Not worried about the Supervillain, or the threat posed, or fucking Tides!” Superhero roared, slamming his fist out against Kit’s wall and putting a hole in the plaster. Kit flinched. “He took Tides, and where were you? Hmm? Having tea with Mentor?”

“Where were you.”

It was Ambrose who spoke that time. His voice carrying like the cold sound of reason through the volcanic eruption of emotions between the two heroes. All eyes turned to Ambrose, a beat of silence passing between them.

“What?” Superhero asked, voice tight.

“Where were you,” Ambrose repeated, tilting his head. “You’re Mentor’s replacement, shouldn’t you have been able to deal with the threat? Or are you just that incompetent?”

Superhero’s nostrils flared. “How dare you—”

“Kit wasn’t on duty last night,” Ambrose continued, his voice unflinchingly even. “In fact, he had just gotten off shift before the Supervillain attack. So my question is then isn’t are you incompetent, because I know you are if you expect overworked and exhausted staff to try and pick up your slack.”

“You didn’t see him,” Superhero said, livid. “You weren’t there.”

“I saw the footage,” Ambrose replied without missing a beat. “He’s strong, but he’s not unbeatable. Kit’s been having problems of his own with his powers, but I doubt you know anything about that.”

Superhero’s eyes went to Kit who swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. That wasn’t exactly something he wanted Superhero, or anyone, really, to know.

“And if he had been fighting last night then there could have been more damage done to property and people. How would you explain that to the Mayor?”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Kit knew they were true, but it didn’t make them any easier to swallow. Ambrose was right. He didn’t have control of his powers, and if he went up against Supervillain he didn’t know if he would kill them. He could even mistake friend for foe in that state, when the power just wanted to claim everything near him. Indiscriminate chaos would be unleashed, and then Kit would become the new threat to the city.

They’d lock him up in the Super prison and throw away the key. He didn’t want to go there… he heard horror stories of the guards from that prison. More monsters than men.

“Mentor was once the strongest hero in the city,” Ambrose continued. “And look at him now.”

Superhero scoffed. “Yeah. Let me just phone up Omen real quick. I’m sure he’ll be magnanimous and help us fight another villain and all will be fine,” he sneered.

Kit crossed his arms over his chest, one hand going to his lips and picking at the dead skin over his bottom lip. He hadn’t considered using Ambrose to fight Supervillain. If it worked the first time then surely Ambrose can just use his voice to order the new Supervillain to surrender and stop.

Kit felt black eyes burning a hole in the side of his face, and he glanced back at Ambrose, shoulder lifting in a half-shrug as if to say: it’s worth a shot.

Ambrose didn’t answer, he just huffed a breath out his nose and turned his attention back to Superhero.

“The news said that Tides was kidnapped,” Kit said, quietly. Superhero tensed at the mention of her name and Kit felt guilt that wasn’t his pool in his gut.

A muscle in Superhero’s jaw clicked as he shifted his weight again, leaning back against the counter in Kit’s kitchen with a wince. “Supervillain took her,” Superhero said, his voice low and raw. “It was in the heat of the battle and he backed off after he fought— after we fought and I lost. He took her…”

“Do you know where?” Kit asked. Superhero met his imploring gaze with frightened, guarded eyes. Superhero shook his head. “Shit.”

Ambrose’s black eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a thing.

“I need every available Hero working tonight, Kit. I’m calling in retired Heroes and old friends I know can help fight this monster. And when we do we’ll beat the shit out of him until he tells us where Tides is.”

Kit nodded, his mouth set into a firm line. “Okay,” Kit said. Ambrose wanted to protest, to caution Kit about his powers because what if that other version of Kit appeared? Then they’d have more problems than one maniac destroying the city.

Kit walked Superhero out the door, but that’s as far as he went. “Keep your phone on Mallory. We’ll start patrols after rush hour when everyone’s gone home.”

“And hope he doesn’t strike before that?”

Superhero grimaced. “I have a feeling he won’t.”

Kit didn’t agree but nodded nonetheless and Superhero left. Kit closed the door behind him and grabbed his phone from the couch where he had thrown it with his keys last night after work.

He had a million missed calls from Superhero and… Tides… Kit’s grip tightened on his phone, turning his knuckles white as he stared down at her name.

Ambrose sensed the mood shift, popping his head out of the kitchenette. “What? What’s wrong?”

Kit swallowed thickly but it didn’t replace any of the moisture that evaporated from his mouth. Was it her? Did she call me or was it Supervillain?

Kit searched the call log against Superhero’s. Superhero called two hours before Tides did, which meant that it was before the fight, or at least during it, but Tides called way later. Twice.

A taunt?

Did Supervillain want to make him mad? Did it matter? If Supervillain wanted to talk to him, it could only be about Tides, right?

His thumb hovered over the call button. “Don’t do it, Mallory.”

Kit didn’t look up. “Why not?”

“Because you’d only be feeding his ego. That’s exactly what he wants, so don’t do it.”

“And if I don’t?” Kit demanded, his head snapping up to look at Ambrose, blue eyes locking with black. “What if he hurts Tides?”

Ambrose kept his voice infuriatingly neutral and calm when he said: “he probably already has.”

Kit’s hand shook and he wanted so badly to just throw his phone across the room and scream. Why couldn’t he get a break! Just fucking once! Ambrose’s footsteps trailed off into the kitchen, a plug in a socket, then the gushing of water filling the kettle and a soft click followed by a rumble.

Two ceramic mugs hit the countertop. A drawer opened and a rummaging of cutlery. Ambrose was making coffee. Kit wanted to laugh, but he was afraid if he did it would open the door for all his other emotions to flood out and he would end up crying instead. He didn’t want to cry anymore today.

He walked to his table and sat down heavily into one of the chairs, sighing, locking his phone and putting it on the table.

“What do we do?” He found himself asking. When did I become we?

Ambrose’s kept his back to him as the kettle boiled. “I think you patrol tonight. Follow Superhero’s plan. It seems like the most logical solution.”

Kit nodded, though Ambrose didn’t see. “I’ll look for more information on this new Supervillain,” Ambrose said, turning and bringing two steaming cups towards the table.

Kit tilted his head. “How?”

Ambrose smiled a secretive smile. “I have friends.”

Kit scoffed. Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not,” Ambrose laughed, sitting down opposite Kit. “I have friends, civilian, and Villain contacts. I can ask around to see if anyone knows anything about this new Supervillain.”

Kit nodded, grabbing the cup between his palms. The metal power dampeners clacked against the wood like bracelets on his wrist. His brows pinched together and down on his face.

“You control your powers, Kit,” Ambrose said. “Not the other way around. It’s like when you first discovered your abilities all over again. You have to disconnect your emotions from this new stronger electricity.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kit grumbled. “You have no skin in the game.”

A thick silence blanketed them, not uncomfortable just noticeable. They took a sip of their coffee, Ambrose grimacing at the taste and sat back, Kit letting out a breath through his nose.

“This Supervillain is dragging my father’s name through the mud,” Ambrose said eventually. Kit looked at him. His sharp features were pulled into an expression of contemplation, as if this was an abstract idea he hadn’t explored yet, but knew to be true anyways. “Only I’m allowed to do that. I destroyed his legacy, and now some other villain is trying to feast on my sloppy seconds. I don’t work with other Villains, and I won’t be insulted by them either.”

Kit raised his brows. “So we have a mutual enemy.”

Black eyes met Kit’s blue. Something soft smoothed the harsh edges in Ambrose’s face. “We do,” he agreed. “We’ll take him down, kill him, and all will be well.”

Kit blanched. “What!”

“What?”

“We can’t kill him!”

Ambrose blinked. Considered, then spoke. “Okay. I’ll kill him.”

“You can’t just kill people, Rosey!”

“I can do whatever I like, Mallory. You should know that by now.”

Kit narrowed his eyes. “I guess we’ll have to see who gets to him first, then.”

Ambrose grinned. His black eyes like two pools of ink drawing Kit in, his lips a flash of red. Kit blinked and they were their normal colour again. He must’ve imagined it.

“I guess we will.”

*~*~*~*~*

Kit was patrolling the third district. Superhero put him a little further out than he would’ve liked. When Kit tried to protest, to tell him he should be in first where Supervillain attacked last, Superhero shot him a tired look and Kit begrudgingly accepted.

It was nice to be back in his hero outfit. It always felt like a second skin, not spandex like spiderman, he couldn’t rock that. Instead he opted for more practical clothes. He wore his black jacket that Tailor had made specially for him, the material was as light as a cotton t-shirt but knife proof and more conductive for his electricity. The upper arms were the same shade of electric blue as his powers with white in the shape of a lightning bolt detailed in the centre.

The jacket fit him snug and kept him warm without being bulky or restrictive. The first time he tried it on he shot Tailor and unimpressed glance when he zipped it up.

“It’s too light, wait… what're you do— TAILOR!” Kit cried as she came at him with a knife. It went straight into his chest and he didn’t feel a thing. Kit glanced up at her to see her smiling. “ARE YOU CRAZY?!”

“Ah, don’t be dramatic,” she said, waving the knife all blasé. “I made it myself. It’s perfect. Look,” then she swung the knife into his neck. Kit gasped as he took the impact, though he had to admit, it was far less than what a knife to the throat should have been.

He glanced down at the grey undershirt she had given him, that went all the way up his neck. Now he looked impressed. “What? Even the grey shirt?”

“Of course,” she replied, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not bulletproof but hopefully any bullets flying your way won’t be fatal.”

“Hopefully?” Kit asked.

His trousers were black combats, lined with trace amounts of silver that Tailor somehow wove through the fabric. All he knew was that he was strong when he wore his suit, and his power was potent. He had a new set of power dampeners hanging from his belt (along with the old ones locked around his wrist), his walkie talkie and a taser gun just in case he needed a little extra juice at any time.

Though he presumed he wouldn’t need to use the taser tonight. His red lightning was a monster, powerful and dangerous, but like Ambrose said, he controlled it. Not the other way around, as long as he stayed calm he would be fine. The further you got from the inner city the less crime there was. At least, superpowered crime. That’s all the jurisdiction the Heroes had to go after anyways. The police handled the regular criminals.

Kit had to go back to Tailor to get a new mask, after Ambrose did who knows what with his old one. It was the same design as before, a black mask that went over the lower part of his face. It had a ventilator so he could breathe, and a voice changer that made his voice cackle as much as his electricity.

The radio cackled to life at his hip and Sawyer’s voice came through. “Anything over there?”

“No, it’s quiet,” Kit replied. “Nothing to report. What about you?”

“Same.”

“Where are you stationed?“

“Further out than I should be, I’m on the outskirts of old town.”

Kit frowned. Sawyer was a better Hero than Kit was. Where Kit was speed and power, Sawyer was precision and finesse. He could probably secure Supervillain better than Kit could, and his powers were basically a match against telekinesis with his shadows and crows.

“Strange.”

“Tell me about it,” Sawyer huffed. “Look, just radio me if anything happens and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Crowe.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Kit clipped his walkie back into his belt and let out a sigh. He wished he was in the first district where the action is. Ambrose was the reason Superhero was going easy on him, making him appear to be sick with his ability malfunction. Leaving Kit to patrol the quiet district instead of being in the thick of it.

He wandered along the rooftops, taking his time, straining his ears, enjoying the wind on his face and hair. He missed the cool, crisp air of nighttime. He missed being able to feel the electric currents in the air from televisions and people’s appliances plugged in. From the roof he could feel the electric currents in the air, flying faster than during the day when it’s warm out. Or at least, when the sun’s out.

It gave him a little buzz that made him feel antsy for a fight, his skin thrumming with energy. As if his prayers were being answered, Kit heard a sharp cry from below and he bolted towards the fire escape. He was down within a minute, feet hitting off the tarmac of the alleyway. Then he was taking off down the streets towards the sound. His body hummed with the flowing currents, coming more alive as he pushed his muscles faster.

God, he missed this.

“Stop! Stop! Henry, stop!”

Kit heard as he took a sharp corner to take in the scene in front of him. A woman stood behind a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 who stood with their hands up, palms facing a man dressed in all black.

“Nah, go on, kid. I’m quaking in my boots,” the man said.

“Please! Just take my purse and go.”

“No, Mom!” The kid protested and a small spurt of water flowed from his palm and squirted the thief in the face. The same effect of a clown’s flower spraying water in their patrons face, harmless.

The thief laughed and patted the boy, Henry’s head. “You’ll be one of ‘em heroes one day, ain’t that right?”

Kit stuck to the shadows, remaining unseen for now. “I wouldn’t sign up to them, kid. What you really wanna do if you wanna use your powers, is join Supervillain…”

“I’ll be a hero!” Henry cried and went to punch the thief. The thief caught his fist and tilted his head, glancing up at the mother.

She held her hands out placatingly. “Please, please he’s just a boy. Don’t hurt him.”

“Stand down, little hero,” the thief said. Instead Henry bit the man. The thief cursed, retracting his hand sharply and went to slap the boy. Kit caught his hand before it could make contact, smiling eyes meeting the thief’s.

“Alright there pal?”

The thief’s eyes widened. “M-malyn.”

“Thought you were just about to hit that kid, you know, the one half your height. My eyes must’ve been playing tricks though right?”

The man’s face contorted with rage. “You! You can’t interfere in this crime! You’re powered, your jurisdiction is powered criminals.”

“I know,” Kit shrugged. “That’s why I called the cops. Although, I don’t need my powers to do this.”

Kit punched the thief square in the face and released him. The thief cried out, but Kit didn’t stop. He stepped in close and sent a couple quick jabs to the thief’s stomach, ending with a sharp knee to the solar plexus. The thief gasped and fell to the ground with a groan, trying to get the wind back into his lungs.

Kit turned to the boy and his mom and saluted them. “Sorry you had to see that,” Kit said, his voice changer distorting his voice. He turned it off and crouched to be face to face with the kid. “You were so brave protecting your mom like that. Thanks for holding him off until I got here.”

Kit held his fist out and the kid blushed and bumped it with his own. “Great. Next time though, maybe listen to your mom.”

The boy nodded. Kit stood and turned his attention to the woman. “Would you like me to walk you home?”

“No,” the woman said, shaking her head, wide eyes only half focused on Kit. “No. I think we’ll wait for the police.”

“Okay. No problem.”

As if on cue, sirens sounded close by. Kit waited until the lights were just outside the alleyway before he turned back to the thief. He grabbed him and punched him one more time to keep him down before dragging him down to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Malyn,” Detective said with a disapproving stare. Kit passed the thief to her partner and switched the voice changer back on.

“Detective.”

“You’re not supposed to interfere with regular people.”

“I didn’t touch him. Not a single electric pulse in his body was harmed.”

“Mmhm, and what about his nose?”

Kit shrugged. “He walked into the wall.”

Detective hit Kit’s arm and Kit held his hands up. “You’re not too old that I can’t call your father, Malyn.”

Kit shook his hands side to side at Detective. “Uh, no need. I’m going. Look? I am walking away, ma’am.”

“Yeah, keep walking.”

Kit took off into a half jog just to make sure Detective didn’t follow through with her threat.

The rest of the night passed quietly. Kit radioed Tides. “Any update, Sawyer?” He was on the roof of the local supermarket, it was tall, letting him see a wide part of third. When there was no reply Kit frowned and turned towards the Old Town Clocktower sticking out of the sky. “Sawyer? You there?”

Anxiety gripped his chest the longer he went without an answer. Then, static and: “Malyn! Are you there?”

Sawyer?

“Malyn,” Sawyer called over the radio, his voice cutting out and crackling. “Get down— first— ambush.”

Kit took off with a curse. Shit, how was he going to get to first in time to help the other heroes? Kit grabbed his walkie as he veered onto main street, sprinting now, his electricity sparking him forwards at inhuman speed.

“Superhero! It’s Malyn, listen. Crowe said there’s an attack in first.”

“What?” Superhero asked. “I’m at the tower, Malyn.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Kit replied. “Superhero? Superhero! Fuck!”

Kit clipped the radio to his belt as he got closer and closer to first, passing through second towards the inner city. Sawyer was meant to be patrolling fourth tonight… maybe he should— No, forget it. Keep moving to first. They needed him, they needed backup. Kit ignored the warning bells ringing in his mind as he passed from third into second before his energy expired and he caught his breath leaning on a wall.

God, it and been so long since he exerted himself like this. It wouldn’t take long for his cells to replenish, not on a perfect night like tonight where the conditions were ideal for him. He decided to walk the rest of the way to conserve the energy as he built it back up, but then that would mean getting there slower than he’d like.

His radio crackled to life at his hip and he quickly grabbed it, bringing it to his mouth to speak when another voice beat him to it: “attention all heroes, I repeat, attention all heroes.”

Kit paused, his steps faltering to a stop. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” the voice continued, distorted over the radio. “But since nobody else will roll out the welcome wagon I figured I’d do it myself.”

Kit started running again, his ears open and his eyes peeled as he ran towards First. He didn’t recognise the voice. Which, obviously he didn’t, that’s what voice distorters were for, but… there was something in the back of his brain that twinged familiar.

It’s not… it’s not Omen, he knew that for definite. Omen’s far more flashy and open, not fearing being known, this new villain was… more cautious.

“I proved too much for Crowe poor dear, and Tides… well, she’s had a night of fun with me last night. But I think I know what these heroes need… like, a Hero for heroes.” Kit grit his teeth at the slight as he passed from second into first. His eyes zeroed in on the Hero tower looming in front of him and he paused, looking around.

“What do you say, Malyn? You wanna test your luck with me, hmm? Tick-tock.”

Come on, Kit, think.

If I were a supervillain, I wouldn’t attack close to the Hero tower so the heroes could get reinforcements… as little ease of access to help as possible.

“Tick-tock,” Supervillain said from the radio again and the realisation dawned on Kit. He turned to the right where old town was and took off once more.

Old town would be the perfect breeding ground for villains to make a name for themselves too. No heroes were ever really appointed here anymore, not since Superhero took over. So why did he appoint Sawyer here tonight? Just covering his arse? Mentor looked after the people who lived in old town, the people who earned an honest living and couldn’t afford to move away from the new slums of the city.

Kit knew the winding, narrow streets like the back of his hand, it was his home once upon a time. Maybe that was why Mentor took extra care of it. The place basically self-regulated itself, and most of the people were good as long as didn’t cross them. They were all in the same boat after all.

Kit didn’t have time to reminisce, or take a moment to breathe in being back here after so long. All that could wait until later, after he beat the shit out of Supervillain and saved the day. If everything went well.

Kit stopped outside the clocktower courtyard, staring up into the clock face high above him. The clocktower had been out of use for years now, Kit only vaguely remembered it working when he was younger.

The courtyard in of itself was walled in like a garden, a meeting place if ever there was one. Kit walked onto the cobblestones, turning as he searched for any sign of Supervillain or Tides, or Sawyer.

His radio buzzed to life again, Supervillain’s voice crackling to life: “ah, good. You’re here.”

Confirmation. He was in the right place, which meant— Kit glanced up at the tower, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, I’m here. How about you come out of hiding, coward?”

“How cute, trying to bait me with petty insults. Unfortunately, Malyn, you have no bargaining power here. Come up or Crowe here dies. If you’re not here in two minutes, I’ll take it you mean to forfeit his life. Ta-ta.”

Kit cursed and ran for the clocktower door, shouldering it open and running through, taking the stairs two at a time, climbing higher and higher up the stairs, passing the first platform and the second. He quickly unclipped the power dampeners from his wrist which almost winded him when the flurry of his abilities roared like a sleeping Dragon that was wrestled from a deep slumber.

Kit groaned, hand on the railings taking in a deep breath. He didn’t have time for this. The structure was mostly wooden, it was fine. He’d be fine. Red lightning cackled around his hands as he reached the clocktower room. This room was bigger than the rest, the clock face let in the moonlight from the night sky.

“NNGH!” Tides cried out into her gag when Kit emerged onto the fifth floor. His breath was stolen from him a second time seeing her alive. She was alive.

A man stood with his back to Kit, facing the view of the city, hands behind his back. Kit’s eyes went to Tides who was kneeling on the ground behind Supervillain, her hands locked in power dampeners above a rafter. Blood trickled down her face from her hairline, her right eye and jaw bruised and a cloth tied so tight around her mouth that it cut into her cheeks, not letting her mouth close properly. Crowe was unconscious on the other side of Supervillain, hands cuffed behind his back.

“Good. You’re finally here,” Supervillain said turning, his voice distorted through his mask that hid every inch of his face from Kit. There wasn’t even any features carved into it, but a flat surface, like a robot or a wall, split down the middle; one half solid silver, the other crimson. “I was getting bored of waiting. Don’t worry, though, Tides kept me entertained while you were making your way, and then Crowe came to her rescue. Misguided boy.”

“Let them go,” Kit said, electricity sparking to life in his hands forming gloves of lightning up and down his arms.

Supervillain tilted his head. “You only got here. If I release them, you’ll leave.”

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” Kit spat, taking a step forward. “The entire Hero tower is following me here, or are you really so stupid as to think you’ll get away with attacking my friends?”

Supervillain laughed. It was entirely too calm, a light chuckle, eerie, making Kit’s hairs stand on end. “You think you’re the only one with friends, Malyn?”

Shit. This was another ambush. He had to warn Superhero. Just as he reached for his radio, a gun cocked and Tides whimpered. His eyes locked on Tides’, frozen in his movements. He looked up at Supervillain, eyes wide and weary.

Supervillain held his hand out for the radio. Kit’s frown etched deeper into his face, why wouldn’t he just take it? “Let’s not spoil all the fun yet, hmm?”

Kit hesitated. Supervillain pointed the gun to the right of Malyn’s head and pulled the trigger. Kit hissed, his hands going to his ears as Tides screamed. The ringing tilted everything in the room and Kit stumbled to the left, pulling his hand away from his ear to see blood staining his fingers.

“The radio, Malyn.”

Tides cried out through her gag again, but it was muted compared to the screeching noise of the bullet’s aftershock. Kit unclipped the radio and tossed it at Supervillain’s head. He caught it, unfortunately.

“What do you want?” Kit barked, glancing back at Tides. She looked like shit but her eyes were wide and scared.

“What do I want,” Supervillain mused, dropping Kit’s radio to the ground and crushing it under his foot, drawing Kit’s attention back to him. “I want an actual challenge. I want a worthy opponent.”

“So you attack new heroes to find them? Sounds like you’re scared to me.”

“Think of this more like an audition for an opponent. I want someone to make me sweat, it has been an age since I fought.”

“Let me radio Superhero for you then,” Kit tried, risking a step forward. “He’ll give you what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t want a number two Hero who got promoted by chance. I want you,” Supervillain told Kit. Tides cried out again, pulling against her restraints.

Her eyes were wide and frantic as she tried to tell Kit something through the gag, but it was garbled speech. “Ffs… mm. mmOm!”

Kit shook his head not understanding anything that was coming out of her mouth. Supervillain stepped into Kit’s sight line, obscuring Tides from him and he wanted to just beat the fuck out of this guy.

“All this talking,” Supervillain said with a sigh. “I tire of it. Tell you what, Malyn, if you can lay a finger on me, I’ll let your friends go free.”

Kit stopped at the phrase, his mind reeling as a memory played back in his mind. The first time Mentor came to the academy. He set a challenge to find the best student in the academy, Kit could remember it like it was yesterday. Mentor looked more like a god than a man, with his warm smile and larger than life confidence.

When it was Kit’s turn he stared up at the man, awestruck. When Mentor said: “try to land a blow on me.”

Kit blinked. “What?”

“Try and lay a finger on me, a hair, a breath. Get close enough to touch me.”

Kit frowned, looking out to the other training area. Everyone got a turn one-on-one with Mentor, he assumed they would be training. Not fighting the number one Hero in the city.

“You want me to fight you?”

“I want you to show me what you’re made of.”

Kit stared at Supervillain, falling back a step as he took in the man’s build. Broad shoulders, tall, strong build and yet lean.

He hadn’t fought in an age.

Kit’s heart thundered in his chest as blood rushed like a tsunami through his skull, thumping against his ears and chest like a hammer striking an anvil.

It was just a phrase, Kit told himself. It was just a phrase, he repeated, hoping he would believe it because it was impossible. Mentor couldn’t— he wouldn’t— he was in hospital right now for crying out loud. Locked in a secure ward! There’s no way it… he confirmed his alibi just this morning

“MM—” Tides screamed at the top of her lungs. “FFFS… mm-mm.!”

The room seemed to zero in on Kit as horror descended quick and sudden on him, like a bucket of ice water was thrown into his face. He stares into the masked man’s face — the same height, stature, build as Mentor, and asks in a voice like a boys: “Mentor?”

Supervillain laughed again, his voice harsh and distorted. “No time for chatting, Malyn. Fight me. Show me what you’re made of. Or I’ll kill your friends.”

Kit’s lip drew back into a snarl. He clicked his fingers and electricity cackled to life around his hands. He threw a bolt towards Supervillain, who sidestepped the energy hurtling towards him. Kit ran at Supervillain, throwing a punch to his face. Supervillain tilted his head away at the last second. While Kit was stuck in the motion of his punch, Supervillain put a hand on Kit’s chest, the other on his back and swept his legs from under him.

Kit’s eyes went wide as he fell straight onto his back, leaving him slightly winded. He recovered quickly, swiping at Supervillain’s legs with his own. Supervillain danced out of Kit’s range, sending a swift kick to Kit’s chin that rocked his brain.

“Come on, Malyn. I expected better from you.”

Kit shot forward, grabbing at Supervillain’s leg with his hand but before he could make contact one word uttered above him and he couldn’t move: a cold, soft “freeze.”

The world rushed around him, his ear ringing, his mind fizzing, his powers cackling around him. “My my, look at this,” Supervillain said, bending to a crouch. Kit’s eyes followed him, wide and red and frozen with a cold terror because that… only Omen could do that, only… only Ambrose, which meant— which… which meant.

“Sssh, ssh, shh, Malyn. I know you’re scared. Now, kneel.” Kit let out a noise from the back of his throat as his body obeyed the command. “Oh look at you, so good for me. Raise your hands please.” Supervillain praised, eliciting a flurry of shivers down Kit’s spine.

Supervillain reached forward and unclipped Kit’s power dampeners from his belt. Tides cried out behind him but he couldn’t do anything, his body glistened with a cold sweat as he fought against Omen’s Supervillain’s hold on him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he spoke, his voice hoarse.

“You… all… all along it was you?” Supervillain tilted his masked head at Kit. Same build, same height as Mentor. It couldn’t be, but his mind was screaming at him to accept the facts in front of him.

“I thought we— I thought you were—” I thought we were a team, he wanted to scream. I thought maybe we were… not friends but— but… we had a common enemy!

Why! Why! Why!

“Oh sweet boy,” Supervillain purred, snapping one of the cuffs around Kit’s wrists, hissing as he got a jolt of electricity in the meantime. “You recognise me, do you? I’m honoured. Hands behind your back, now. There’s a good lad.”

Kit flinched when the second power dampener locked behind his back, dimming the crackling in the air, the currents from the night locked away from his touch. Ambrose said he’d kill Supervillain when he found him, but…

“There, now. Look at you. So much more docile when you’re not bursting with lightning at every word, aren’t you?”

Supervillain placed a hand on Kit’s head and rubbed his hair, patting him like a dog. He wanted to be sick. What was it Ambrose called him? Puppy? Puppet? He clearly had no brains in his head if Ambrose had been playing the long game this entire time!

He let his guard down. He opened up to Omen. To the villain that destroy his life and look where that’s got him. An explosion lit up the room of the clocktower, illuminating every grain and plank of wood. Kit flinched as Tides screamed, rattling her cuffs like a lunatic, her tormented screeches turning to sobs..

Kit glared up at Supervillain, which was all he could do. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing, really. That would be my friends, causing some chaos so we can get away safe and sound, never to be found.”

Kit let out a shuddering breath. “L-let them go,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Please. Let them go, please! They have nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, Malyn, dear. No. I need them to keep you in line, so we’re all going together. But don’t worry, the next thing you’ll know, you’ll all be reunited. Sleep. Nighty night now.”

Kit fought the compulsion. He really tried, but with the contact on his head, his efforts were in vain and Kit found himself whirling in the darkness, a scream drifting him off to sleep like a lullaby.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer r @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath h @theonewithallthefixations @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie

[woodtoc]

+ being really smart :)

[mothmanavenue]

baby you’re like lightning in a bottle

[localcryptic]

i’ll bite the hand that needs me

anybody else losing their mind over chargestep today? haven’t been able to stop thinking about tal and julia and this song, so please enjoy

and also, the individual shots:

[bubba-the-bear]

ITS AN VILLAIN IMPULSE!!!! This art is inspired by @stormsaia oneshot called closing the rift and omg please look it up. So this is the villain Aftershock aka villain impulse with electric powers!

[artbywaffless]

i have plans I cannot share with you .