#hero x detective

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Mind Games

New story who diiisss. Anyway, thank you to @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 for the whole idea of this story! Hero x detective for a twist.

TW: Blood, stabbing, knife, mentioned murder, kidnapping, restraints, blindfold, mentioned drugging, male whump

Waking up blindfolded and bound to a chair wasn't exactly a novelty for the hero, but that didn't make it any less irritating. There was something about the forced ignorance a blindfold subjected you to that got on the hero's nerves and blew fuses in his brain.

The patter of footsteps on a parquet floor rang in the hero's ears, and he could already sense his mystery assailant get near him and flick him on the head like a disobedient child.

"You up, sunshine?" Detective's sharp voice called out.

The rough grunt he gave seemed to be enough of a response, and the detective removed the blindfold from around his head.

The light seemed to assault his eyes, too bright and cold and violent, and the hero let out a soft cuss. "Do you make a habit out of kidnapping people and tying them up in your basement, detective?" he questioned irritably, his eyes half-screwed shut.

The detective, immaculate as ever, wearing a goddamn three-piece suit in his own house, gave out a soft, but unsettling laugh, leaving his lips in a tight smile that was all teeth. "No, Hero. But you already know why you're here, don't you? Because I know you think playing dumb might save you, but I'm here to tell you it won't," he growled, baring his teeth.

The detective was never a particularly pleasant human being, dryer than a desert more often than not, but he was always calm, like no problem in the world could even sour his mood. So to see him already lash out, even this slightly told the hero that even with him tied up and possibly drugged with how groggy he was feeling, the detective probably saw him as a threat.

Shame he'd have to play another set of cards to win the game.

"Alright," the hero said calmly, fixing the other man with a piercing look, "if we're agreeing neither of us is here to screw around, then how about you cut to the chase. You don't seem like the 'pace and around the room and monologue' type of guy," he reasoned, an easy smile on his face.

Maybe he wasn't feigning oblivion anymore, but he wasn't giving the detective the satisfaction of feeling like he was scaring him.

The detective made a scoffing noise, reaching into his pocket to pull out a switchblade. "Maybe you'll learn to smile less at the wrong times, asshole," he spat as he unfurled the blade, looking eerily calm, nothing behind the whirpools of black that were his eyes.

"You're going to talk. Answer all my questions properly. And if you don't, I think even you are not dumb enough to not be able to guess what's going to happen."

The knife really didn't faze the hero the way it should. Sure, it left him uneasy, sharp and disturbingly pristine. But he'd been roughed up before one too many times, so he knew to some extent how this stuff worked.

The hardest part was selling his act.

"How did you find out it was me?" the detective started, pulling up another chair and carelessly throwing one leg over the other.

"I'm good at what I do," the hero shrugged, his face blank. But he couldn't help wincing as the detective grazed his thigh with the knife, his body already tormented enough with his ridiculously cramped muscles.

Nothing he couldn't handle, anyway.

"The evidence. What lead you to me?" Detective tried again, the blade still in his hand with Hero's fresh blood snaking down it.

"Does it matter? I figured you out anyways," the hero supplied listlessly, his gaze languid and half-lidded.

The detective stabbed harder this time, twisting the knife in the hero's shoulder and forcing a snarl out of him. He truly wasn't sure for how long he could keep playing the defiant card, the pain blooming across his shoulder and even down to his arm as the detective snatched the knife out just as fast as he'd put it in.

If he could incinerate the detective by staring at him wrong, he seriously would've. Instead he grit his teeth and tried to ignore his throbbing shoulder, looking up at the detective, irritated.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slit your throat right now." The detective's voice seemed a little too relaxed for comfort, the dirty switchblade now resting on the hero's jugular. The hero was no longer even slightly surprised the other man was a criminal.

It took an insurmountable amount of self-restraint to keep his lips from curving into a self-satisfied grin. Sure, it wasn't very believable if an agency-trained hero crumbled under a few stabs, but death was a reasonable enough fear for even someone as formidable as him. Nevermind that the wide eyes and the harsh bite of the lips were actually fake.

"W-wait. There's no point of you killing me. Not without finding out what you need to know. And do you really need anymore blood on your hands?" the hero breathed out, a little desperation sprinkled into his tone.

The detective looked almost lost in thought, until something wicked burned a fire in his eyes for just a moment. "You only get one chance, Hero. Don't waste it," he drawled lazily, pulling the knife away and twirling it elegantly with one hand.

The hero nodded gratefully, readying himself to lie through his teeth. "When you said the victim had died of asphyxiation, even before you were granted access to the autopsy report."

The detective's brow furrowed and his lips were pulled into a tight frown. "I never said he died of asphyxiation, he died of mercury poisoning."

"Bingo," the hero, his hands now free of their bonds, crooned, as he used the detective's momentary surprise as a distraction, pulling the knife out of his hand and using it to cut through the ropes around his legs.

Say something wrong about a subject and your target will rush to correct you. A surprisingly effective trick as the hero had come to learn.

The detective's face twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled fury as he tried to wrench the knife out of the hero's hand, but he dodged, quick on his feet much to the other man's chagrin.

Hero had to give him credit, the man was almost nearly impossible to stab, parrying the crime-fighter's attacks with calm, stable, maybe even clever moves, so much so that all he'd managed to do was lightly nick him with the blade.

But with all his focus on blocking, he hadn't even noticed that all the hero's fighting had backed him into a corner until too late, until thr crime-stopper's leg had slammed him into the wall with a painful kick, and the knife's cold edge had bit into his skin.

"Don't. Move."

The detective was breathing hard, practically paralysed by the knife and the glint of warning in his enemy's eyes. His face burned with the shame and humiliation of being frozen in place, his own weapon at his neck.

"How d-did. . .you find out it was me?" the detective panted, voice desperate.

It was the hero's turn to smile wickedly. "On the day of the victim's death, he got a visit from his doctor. I searched the trash and found a broken thermometer. It was pretty clear from the bruising on the poor bastard's face the killer was left-handed. The doctor you paid off that I interviewed was right-handed. To test out my theory, I told the doctor I was taking him to prison for the murder, and his tongue might've just slipped too much for your hush money to fix it."

And with that, the hero knocked him out with a punch to the jaw, dragging the other's body and praying desperately the adrenaline would keep the pain in his shoulder at bay until he got out of here at least.

Some trails are shadowy and unclear, obscuring the vision and playing tricks on the mind. But the smallest amount of resilience can very well go a long way, if only you learn to time your moves right. Because even if you only get a short string, you can still sew a mark on the tapestry of your fate.

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-24 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-is-the-reputation4444 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[raiha-storm65557]

Prompt #46

Detective had her eyes glued to the screen, to actually plant a hidden camera on that man! Hero was insane, risking mind control just to get close enough but this was what she needed. To find out whom he’s working with, where his hideout is and most importantly, Villains true identity.  

Tag list: @shesadollette  ;@n3rv0usn0v4  ;@kaiwewi  ;

Let me know if you want to be added :)!  

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 7

A/N: I totally didn’t have to reread this series to remember where I was going with this or with the desperate hope I left clues for myself to jog my memory. Nope definitely not😅 Also, SORRY IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE MY LAST UPDATE💜

Warnings: swearing, inferences to flirting, reference to a near-death experience (freezing to death), reference to stalking/being stalked, teasing (or bullying depending on how you look at it. Imma call it ‘banter amongst enemies’), manipulative/power-play dynamics, minor self-depreciation

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods masterlist

Hero cursed the buzzing phone on their nightstand. With the blizzard coming down from the mountains, they knew it was going to be a long couple of days until the snow cleared and had been trying to get some sleep while they could, but alas, the universe had other plans for them. Barely awake, they slapped their hand down on their nightstand, grumbling to themselves as they patted around the hard surface for their phone.

Finding it, they blindly accepted the call and brought it to their ear, tucking themselves back into the warm cocoon of their blankets where they had shifted in their attempt to grab the wretched device.

“Hello,” they mumbled.

“I need a favor.” Hero’s eyes opened slowly at the quiet but commanding voice on the other end of the line. Brows furrowed, Hero debated whether or not they should hang up on the master criminal bold enough to call them personally.

“No, now goodni—”

“It involves a civilian, and I can’t help them.”

Hero hummed. Taking a deep breath, they forced themselves into a sitting position. Bringing their knees to their chest, Hero smirked. “Oh? What, did someone worse than you capture your lover or something and now you’re forced to come begging to me for hel—”

“No. It’s much simpler than that. The blizzard blew a civilian off-course and they ended up half-freezing to death before my henchmen found them on a patrol.”

Hero blew out a breath. Of course. Supervillain didn’t have it in them to love someone, obviously. “And now you’re holding them hostage until I do something for you. Look, I’d love to play your little game, but that blizzard’s coming my way next and I’d rather get some sleep than fall into your trap. Try Superhero instead. They’ve been rather bored lately.”

“For the love of god, you cynical bastard, listen. This civilian is being stalked and I think it’s a super behind it. That’s why they’re on this mountain at all.”

Hero paused as Supervillain’s words sank into their half-conscious mind. They blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Supervillain’s voice held an edge to it Hero hadn’t heard in a long time. “Here’s what I’m asking you for: poke around, see what you can find. My team and I can’t do anything until the roads clear, so I need you to be—”

“I’m not your sidekick, Supervillain,” Hero rolled their eyes, “Or one of your henchmen. You can’t order me around—”

“So you won’t help?”

Hero pinched the bridge of their nose. “I didn’t say that.”

At Hero’s words, there was a beat of silence before Supervillain said, “Thank you.”

Hero’s smirk returned. That was a first, for sure. Just who was this civilian, and what did they mean to Supervillain?

A long sigh sounded in their ear. “I can hear you thinking all the way over here. Don’t give yourself a headache, Hero. I actually need you to be useful.”

“I’ll help,” Hero said slowly, “but only if you answer one question: who’s the civilian?”

A second ticked by before Supervillain responded as if through clenched teeth. “Civilian Surname.”

Hero sagged in disappointment. The name didn’t ring any bells in their mind. “And here I was hoping for something scandalous, like a reporter or someone of note. So who are they to you?”

“A frightened mouse,” Supervillain sighed heavily. Hero narrowed their eyes in suspicion, dissecting what the master criminal had said for any hidden meaning, for a telling inflection in their voice, but their examination yielded them nothing. “I can’t even keep them calm. They’re terrified.”

“Well, yeah, being around an imposing, shapeshifting murderer will do that.” Hero leaned back against the wall at the head of their bed. “Though I suppose if they’re being stalked that wouldn’t help them any either. All right, I’ll start looking into it.”

“I’ll be in touch then.”

Hero didn’t even have time to respond before Supervillain disconnected the call. They were hoping to get another “thank you” out of them, but they supposed that was a once in a lifetime deal. Just who was Civilian Surname that their mere presence in the master criminal’s life had them asking for help? Supervillain was cunning, capable, but most of all, they were resourceful. They had a reach and influence no other villain had, and it plagued the caped community to no end, no matter the side you were on. Every one wanted to know how they did, and in Hero’s case, they wanted to bring them down. The information Supervillain was privy to, or allegedly privy to, was too dangerous for one single person to have—or for anyone to have at all.

And, the mere existence of such a compilation of data, shook them to their very core. If Supervillain knew where to look to get things like their phone number, what else did they know? And what were they doing with it? Were they selling parcels of information to other villains? Or were they taking their enemies down one by one just like they did with Other Superhero?

Hero shook their head. They didn’t have any answers to any of their questions, just as they hadn’t the slightest clue who Civilian Surname was. But they’d said they would help. Why they’d agreed, they didn’t know. They could’ve easily told Supervillain to piss off and poked around in secret, for Civilian’s sake, but instead they’d verbally agreed to help Supervillain.

Cursing themselves, Hero ran a hand through their hair. Sucking in a breath, they picked up their phone and tapped the shortcut they were looking for. The call barely rang before it was picked up, bringing a slight smile to their face as the familiar voice greeted them.

“It’s four in the morning, what do you want?”

“Good morning to you too, Detective. I miss you too, the weather’s been absolutely dreadful, hasn’t—”

“Hero, please,” Detective begged, their voice sounding utterly exhausted. A pang of guilt wormed its way through Hero’s heart. “I have three hours left of this god-awful shift, so please just get to the point.”

“Right, sorry,” Hero said sheepishly. “I got a call just now asking me to look into a stalker case?”

“That’s not my department.”

“I know, but I like working with you. Other Detective is such a—”

“Hero, the point,” Detective interrupted again.

“Right, the point,” Hero smiled softly. “I don’t know if they’ve filed a report or not, but could you check for anything involving a Civilian Surname for me? I mean anything, not just the stalker report.”

Detective sighed. Hero squeezed their eyes shut, knowing the reproach they were about to receive. “You know I can’t do that without cause. It’s unlawful. The best I can do is get you a copy of the report if you want to formerly adopt the case under Clause 71.”

“All right, fine, I’ll do that.” Hero tilted their head back. “I’ll file the paperwork as soon as the office opens. But, can you at least tell me if Civilian Surname rings any bells for you? You’ve been on the beat for a long time, so maybe you’ve had a run-in with them or there’s something that comes to mind about them.”

Hero counted their heartbeats in the silence that followed their question. They tapped their fingers against their thigh as they waited, knowing Detective was giving their question a careful consideration they gave to all their work.

“No,” they said at last. “I can’t think of anything. Maybe you should try public records just in case there’s something I don’t know about. It might not yield anything useful, but it’s something.”

“Ah, well if the paperwork goes through…” Hero trailed off, a mischievous smile playing at their lips.

Detective let out a soft laugh on the other end of the phone. “Yes, if the paperwork goes through, then I can look up Civilian Surname in our database, but you better have a cause for me!”

“Would a suspected association with a known criminal count?”

A pause. “What?”

“Would a suspected—”

“No I heard you, I just don’t know if I believe you. I thought you were asking about a stalker case?”

“I am, but the call I got…” Hero hesitated. They knew they could trust Detective, but how far did that really go? “It was from a less than reputable party, let’s say.”

“Hero,” Detective started, “are you mixed up in something?”

Hero turned the question around in their head for a moment before they answered honestly. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Good. I can’t lose my job, you know that.”

Another pang of guilt struck their heart. “I do. I’ll call my handler and tell them the whole thing before I file the paperwork.”

“Good. Well, if that’s all…I gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Hero said. “I should too. This blizzard looks like it’s going to be a bad one.”

“Speak for yourself, it might give me an easy day.”

Hero chuckled, “Goodnight, Detective.”

“Good morning, Hero.”

Hero disconnected the call, smiling like an idiot. It was always a pleasure conversing with Detective, though there were many reasons for that aside from their not-so-secret feelings for them. For one, Detective didn’t get all star-struck working with heroes, and secondly, they didn’t care that they had a dark sense of humor, and in fact, Hero preened, they seemed to like it as they’d often caught Detective hiding their smirks and laughter whenever Hero said something off-color at a crime scene they were working together.

They only hoped doing this favor for Supervillain—and actually agreeing to it—didn’t cost them both their jobs and their reputations.

At least there wasn’t anything in writing, Hero thought to themselves as their smile fell. Slipping back beneath the covers, Hero draped their arm over their eyes, knowing the premise of actually sleeping was long-gone at this point. Their mind was consumed by the events of the last several minutes. They might as well be Supervillain’s lackey now with how easily—and foolishly—they’d agreed to help them figure out Civilian Surname’s stalker problem.

But at least they had a plan, and a way to cover their tracks and make this whole ordeal a little more by-the-book.

First, they’d adopt the case and call their handler. Then they’d look into Civilian Surname, and finally, they’d take the case seriously and root out their stalker, if one even existed in the first place and this wasn’t some grand scheme of Supervillain’s to distract them while they did something truly destructive.

Hero grumbled under their breath. “You damn idiot.”

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit, @classicplesiosaur, @pigeonwhumps, @heninthegarden, @kaiwewi, @korejon, @rivalriotrenegade, @alpacamelons Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

[rivalriotrenegade]

Hero x Villain #1 Banter

@write-it-motherfuckers Thank you for the prompt! Here’s a little blurb I wrote from it. 

“I don’t need your help!” Villain snarls, trying to push Hero off of them. “You don’t need my help? You can hardly stand right now, much less fight.” 

“I’m fine. Now let go of me, dammit!” Hero’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “You want me to let go. Fine, be stubborn.” Hero lets go only for Villains knees to immediately give out from under them. “See, just look at yourself. Let me help you.” Hero begs, stepping closer. “I don’t want your pity!”

“It’s not pity, I care about you.” They say before gently sweeping the pitiful looking villain up into their arms. “Now let’s get you home.” 

“You should have stayed out of it.” Villain hisses. 

“Well what was I supposed to do, watch my friend die?” Hero asks. 

The Villains head snaps towards them, a look of pure repulsion on their face. “Disgusting! Don’t ever refer to me as that again!”

“What? Refer to you as ‘My friend?’  

Villain gags loudly. “What did I just say? I would hate for someone to overhear you. My reputation would never recover!” Hero gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I am a great person to be friends with!”

“Why would I, the villain, want to be friends with a goody two shoes like you? You, someone who can’t even jay-walk without feeling guilty!”

“I can jay-walk! I just never see the need to.” Villain looks at Hero disbelieving. “Hero, you're the type of person who can’t leave a store without buying something because you’d feel guilty if you didn’t!” 

Hero sputters for a moment “Y-Yeah, well only a friend would know that about me!”  

“I don’t need to be your friend to know that. Your whole persona screams ‘desperate people pleaser!’ 

“It does not!” 

“It does. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Careful, I might just drop you into the nearest lake.” Hero threatens. 

“Sure, whatever you say. Now walk faster will you? The new season of ‘Delish Us’ premiers tonight and I want to get there in time to actually watch it.”

Hero sighs but picks up the pace anyway. Villain smirks. “People pleaser.”

Hey guys! I’d love to know what you thought, creative criticism is appreciated  and if you have a prompt you’d like me to write for please send it in! (Makes it easier on me! Then I don’t have to go out and find them myself lol) 

[aterfish]

We just had "Guess That Artist" game in Haunting Heroes discord server! I just had to try drawing in Detective Conan style and limited color palette :D

@noir-renard thanks for hosting!

[nelkcats]

War Day

After Danny was crowned he decided that the truce party had to have a counterpart, after all ghosts became friends mostly through battles, and he assumed that one day letting them fight wouldn't be a bad thing, it might even help stir up some grudges.

This was how High King Phantom, ruler of the infinite realms inaugurated the long-awaited "Day of War" or just "War Day", a moment when the Infinite Realms naturally became chaotic; alliances were allowed but it was not advisable to trust on them.

And of course, you were free not to participate, you just had to put a blue or green band on your arm, or a little green clock in the backyard of your haunt so the ghosts would leave you, your haunt or your territory in general alone.

Danny thought of it as some kind of giant paintball day, only with no paintballs and full of aggressive ghosts with various powers, it was especially exciting since everyone knew there would be no hard feelings after it and they would end up in the king's palace eating sweets as little children.

They usually celebrated it on a day close to any celebration related to death in human world, when their powers were especially powerful and therefore everyone could have more fun.

The problem was that since Danny had human friends (liminals?) who came to play, they didn't really consider it weird when some humans fell into the realms by a natural portal, and since they weren't wearing any blue or green arm bands they were definitely in the game.

For their part, the family of bats along with some League allies found themselves literally standing on a field of war where everyone seemed to be going for the kill, Jason was strangely excited about it, as was Damian.

When Dick asked one of the locals for an explanation, a guy on a motorbike threw him into the air laughing and yelled "LET THE HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"

[fleur-alise]

I'm sick of the ever brilliant, diabolical villains. I want a villain that's so dumb nobody can figure out what the fuck he's doing. I want the detective tasked at tracking him down constantly on the verge of tearing his hair out. I want bugs bunny level shenanigans between the two. and obviously I want it to be an enemies to lovers story.

[creadigol]

Prompt #7

"So a siren takes the form of whoever you most desire?"

Supervillain rolled their eyes at Henchman, "It takes the form of whoever you love the most. Love and desire are not the same thing. You would die for someone you love, not someone you only superficially desire."

"Yeah, okay...but Villain is on deck right now and..."

Supervillain whipped their head around, "What do you mean Villain is on deck?! I expressly gave the orders for everyone to stay below!"

"I know but sir...."

"No buts! Go out there and get them back inside!"

"You should really see..."

"Really see what?"

Henchman rubbed the back of their neck, "The form the siren took for Villain, to lore them outside...it looks like..."

Supervillain narrowed their eyes, "Like who?"

"Like Detective."

[mooblybloom]

I noticed something different about the Danny phantom phandom that sets it apart from most fandoms that being:

In the Danny phantom phandom we as a community or at least most of us are completely fine with shipping him with people like Dick Grayson Jason Todd Tim Drake and Wayne despite these four candidates being very different ages. Aging up or down Danny as needed for the ship but if this is done in a different fandom say MHA it is seen as weird and frowned upon Why is that?

It's just something I noticed I'm not trying to attack anyone here but like I'm curious?

[defectivehero]

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Trail of Blood

warnings: blood, injury

"Well then."

The detective flinches at the familiar voice, dread and fear running through them as their eyes fall to the figure standing at the mouth of the alleyway. They attempt to push themselves up into a better position, but their limbs don't cooperate. The gashes across their body—coupled with the worrying bullet wound in their abdomen—prevents them from moving. Their teeth are chattering and they blink stars from their eyes as their enemy approaches. "How-?" The words die in their throat.

Yet the supervillain comprehends what they're trying to say anyway. They take a few more casual steps closer. "You left a trail." The supervillain then answers matter-of-factly, pointing back to the mouth of the alley. Indeed, there's a discernible path of crimson stains leading to their current position.

"Ah," the detective remarks. They dazedly look down at their trembling form, an ugly realization settling at the pit of their stomach as they see the slowly expanding puddle of blood beneath them.

"Yes." The supervillain hums. "It's really rather ironic. You of all people should know better."

The detective just blinks blearily. They suppose that's true. Then again, they're not usually the victim in these scenarios. The detective is typically the uninvolved third party who appears after the damage is done, relegated to making sense of the evidence left behind.

Their enemy is unperturbed by the detective's silence, instead continuing to speak. "So, what's your plan?" They ask. With another step, they're close enough for the detective to see the expression on their face—an unfamiliar one that appears to be a puzzling mix of irritation and something the detective is too afraid to name.

Then they remember the question. "Die, I guess." The detective mutters.

The supervillain huffs a dry laugh, studying them for several moments. They seem to be cataloguing the detective's injuries. "You'll live." They state with an almost clinical boredom.

"Thanks." The detective responds flatly. For a while, there's nothing but silence. The supervillain hasn't budged or moved a muscle in the time they've spent in tense quiet. "What?" The detective eventually chokes out impatiently.

"Just waiting for you to ask for my assistance." The supervillain hums. The detective glares at them for a long moment. Their enemy only scuffs their boot in the gravel below, seemingly more interested in the pebbles on the ground than the matter at hand.

A sudden prickling shame runs down their skin. The detective grits their teeth. "I'll just-" They murmur to themself, slowly straightening their posture through the nearly blinding pain.

"Just... what, exactly?" The supervillain's acerbic voice cuts through the detective's thoughts. "Crawl to the nearest hospital? It's more than three miles away. Should take you a good several hours. Or a few days, depending on your speed." They respond with a bored tone, holding up their hand and picking at their nails. The supervillain's casual demeanor is infuriating.

"Are you- just here to state the obvious?" The detective chokes out, their tongue feeling thick in their mouth. Did they appear just to witness the spectacle?

"You know me," the supervillain shrugs magnanimously. At the detective's glare, they smile. "I'm the helpful type."

The detective groans in annoyance and refocuses their effort on moving forward. They don't get past a slightly more mobile sitting position before there's a hand on their shoulder.

"Alright, enough," the supervillain announces, their grip strong enough to shake the detective out of their determined state "You're just embarrassing yourself. It's pathetic, seriously."

The detective is too exhausted to notice the concern hidden in their enemy's tone or the concentrated furrow to their brows. They growl and attempt to shove the supervillain away, but their enemy is inexplicably persistent. Within moments, the supervillain is gathering them up into their arms with minimal effort. The detective’s head is spinning at the sudden change in momentum. Were they in a slightly better state, they'd be envious of the supervillain's casual display of strength. Now, however, all they can do is attempt to fight the fatigue threatening to bring their vision to darkness.

Still, the detective's mind is plagued with questions. Where are you taking me? Why are you doing this? How did you find me? These queries all remain trapped in their throat, left to fester and rot in their thoughts.

"You should be grateful I appeared when I did." The supervillain says, looking down at them with an uncharacteristic vulnerability gleaming in their eyes. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, their composed mask returns and they return their attention up ahead. The detective frowns and attempts to dissect what they just saw. But as their adrenaline quickly starts to fade, they soon fall into unconsciousness, before their enemy can even attempt to elaborate any further.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterlist

author's notes: first entry done! woo woo!

in light of recent events, my activity on tumblr may be sporadic. but now more than ever, I'll likely be leaning on writing as a form of escapism. I hope to get bingo at the very least, if not complete the entire card.

if there's something specific you want to see on the card, feel free to send me an ask and I'll see if I can make it happen.

thanks for reading! <3

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[caker-baker]

Playing Sides

The detective allowed themself tense shoulders and whitened knuckles, if only to properly play the game.

Body language could make and break this meeting, and they needed to be a collection of fearful memories on display for the villain, an offering, appeasement, something else here and there.

If anyone other than the villain noticed the act, they were obviously choosing not to say something, going about their individual days, drinking coffee and politely nibbling on microwaved pastries.

But those people didn’t matter, not when there was something else much more pressing at the table.

“This seems a tad…” The villain sitting across from the appeasing detective took their time looking for the word. “incompatible.”

The detective only spared a sweeping glance at the rest of the cafe. “For you or for me?”

Chuckling, the villain raised their coffee cup to their lips. “Tricky, tricky, tricky. Always is with you.” They took an appreciative sip, eyes never leaving the detective. “What is this act you’re putting on? It’s good, believable, but not enough of a constant for me to place any value in it. I don’t appreciate attempts at flattery.”

The first thought was to argue, because why wouldn’t it be? The detective was a professional, their job was to unearth, discover, and find the final truth, the one answer.

Sitting in front of an anthropomorphized file of contradictions with the ability to lie, could, arguably, make the detective jumpy, twitching to argue and argue and argue until that final truth was revealed.

“Maybe it’s not an act.” The detective finally said, not exactly an argument, but a halfway concession, relaxing their muscles, loosening the vice grip on their coffee. “Maybe I’m scared.”

“But not of me.”

“Should I be?”

The villain offered a closed lip smile, one motion away from baring their teeth.

“I don’t so much mind you, my dear detective friend.”

“I don’t care for flattery, either.” The detective said.

“Good thing it wasn’t flattery. You would notice if I were to compliment you.” The villain watched them, particularly their relaxed hands.

The detective managed to rid the urge to move their hands then and there, stayed completely still even as the chill creeped up their spin.

“No, no, not flattery.” The villain continued. “Merely acknowledging the truth. We have a good deal going for each other.” They leaned forward. “Which is why this meeting worries me, why I was unconvinced of your taut facade, your attempts of appeasement.”

The detective straightened, knowing well enough that the villain was mocking their strategy.

“You were hoping to…what? Beg for some sort of help?”

“No.”

“Ask for something, then?”

The detective stayed silent, looking away as the villain stared them down, goading them on in their silent way.

The two did have a good deal going on, and if the detective was wrong, this could ruin that.

But they weren’t wrong.

“There have been whispers, Villain.”

“There tend to be, yes, old friend.”

“About something, someone, coming.” If the villain wanted to respond, the detective wasn’t going to give them a chance. “Now, you know me, you know us, our usual deal. I play both sides of the fence, just barely. Lately, during some of my data tracking for the heroes, I’ve noticed a disturbing pattern.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been forced to wonder something, I have a question for you. All I need is a simple yes or no-”

“Going to stop you there.” The villain set down their cup, fixing the detective with a colder, less amicable gaze. “I do know our usual deal, which is why I’m insulted now. You wanted information, pertinent, valuable information about something disturbing, and you were hoping to bargain with your fear?”

“Villain-”

Their eyes widened, the table under their fist began to crack.

“Careful.”

The detective couldn’t hide any body language from that, flinching at the tone of voice, tones, that the villain had - a million low voices all merging into one, horrific growl that sent shivers wracking up the detective’s spine, hurting their very bones.

“My guilt!” The detective spat out, ignoring the building bone nausea. “It wasn’t fear. You’re right. I’m not scared, not yet, but I’m guilty, and I will be terrified depending on your answer. If this ends up a yes, then I’m prepared to offer you something that I cannot take back, Villain. I’ll trade in something terrible for the rest of us, if it means I have the smallest chance to prepare.”

Those wide eyes narrowed, but the cracking table at least stopped, and the million low voices returned to one.

“Do tell.”

“Answer me first.”

“Tricky, tricky, trick.” The villain relaxed into their chair, amused now. “I’ll decide if it’s worth answering, Detective. Seem fair? Ask your silly yes or no question.”

Another sweep around the coffee shop, everything going according to how the detective had set up.

“Normally, your type gets quiet, goes under radar before a bigger stunt is pulled. I keep track, alert the proper channels, make sure not too many civvies are in a particular high risk zone at a given day. Some contacts in other big cities have reached out, said it’s been too quiet, everyone’s been too quiet.”

The villain’s amusement had already been fanned like a flame, crossing their arms and watching the detective lay it out for them as if it was some soap opera.

“I’ll spare you too many details, but I have reason to believe something big is being planned for here.” They held up a hand, watching the villain’s eyebrow quirk up. “I just need to know, yes or no, is this happening? Is my home going to be razed down for a personal vendetta? A final heroes vs. villains?”

The villain looked the detective up and down.

“If you knew the answer to that, what would you do?”

“Let you and yours duke it out with the heroes. Take the place if you want, it’s only a place, but I’d like to minimize civvy death count, Villain. I’d get in touch with those channels and start mass evacuation. I’d start it now.”

“And now the fun part.” They leaned in again. “What could you offer me in exchange for this answer? What could bring you of all people to guilt? You, whom I almost respect?”

The detective swallowed, and placed their bag on the table, letting the villain take a look inside.

Body language would make or break this.

“Power dampening cuffs. A prototype. I can’t guarantee they work. But I’m sure if you and yours worked together, you could figure something out.”

For the first time, the villain seemed surprised, hardly giving the prototype cuffs another glance.

“Detective-”

“I can’t guarantee they work.” The detective repeated. “But in this squabble of yours that may or may not be coming up, you could use these, and they would help, I know they would.”

“Hm. And you’ll let me walk out with these and the current schematics if I answer you? What if I lie? You make the wrong call, and I still have these. Maybe I will lie, maybe I want to see you be horribly wrong at such a cost.”

“You don’t.” The detective wasn’t wrong. They weren’t.

“Why’s that?”

“It would be no fun for you. You couldn’t almost respect me if this was the end of our partnership, my too easy failure.”

There was so much the detective was betting on, and knowing the villain was one of them.

The villain was a villain through and through, conniving, powerful, selfish, dangerous. And sometimes, those traits, the selfishness, carried into these little deals of theirs.

No, the villain wouldn’t want this to end without a bang. The villain would want to string along the detective until there was no more use of them.

“In a way,” The villain said, standing and grabbing the bag. “You’re right. It would be no fun. I don’t just want these, though. I want something else.”

“Answer the question, I’ll see what else I can do.”

The villain stared down at the detective for a long time. A minute. Two. Three. Or maybe it was only three seconds, stretched out into the fraying ends of a perfectly planned meeting.

“Yes.” The villain finally said. “The answer is yes, something is coming.”

The detective stood, not too quickly. “Thank you. I appreciate that. What do you want? Codes to inaccessible areas? You can have them as soon as-”

Reaching across, the villain grasped the detective’s shoulder. “The ramifications of razing this city down, as you so put, were lost on me. How could you and I keep this up if you’re running off, evacuating with the other saps?” They watched how the detective’s eyes flitted to the villain’s hand. “What I want, Detective, is to keep having fun.”

“Villain, there’s not much you or I can do to continue this deal of ours if there’s all out super war-”

“You play for heroes and villains, or, excuse me, just barely.” Their hand tightened on the detective’s shoulder. “Let’s see what sort of fun we can have with that.”

Before the detective could open their mouth, the villain smiled, and the two disappeared.

[frickingnerd]

tsukauchi dating UA's vice principal

pairing: naomasa tsukauchi x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, established romantic relationship, set during the early parts of the anime, friends to lovers

nobody was really surprised when naomasa and you started dating

sure, people wondered how you got to know each other, but nobody was surprised that two people so similar to each other had found one another

both naomasa's and your job include protecting people. for naomasa it's the people of the city, while you have to protect your students

the two of you met shortly after the new school year started and all might became a teacher at UA

naomasa was well acquainted with him and as the vice principal, you too knew about all might's secret!

after the press broke into UA, naomasa and you met for the first time, as you investigated how they broke in and if anything else had happened

you got along well back then, but you only really became close after the attack on USJ, after which naomasa became increasingly worried about the events at UA – and about you too!

naomasa kept visiting UA on a regular basis, to check in on you and make sure everything was alright with the students

but people began to pick up on the real reason he came to visit – you! and when it got as far as all might teasing him about it, naomasa finally gathered the courage to ask you out!

by that point, everyone already knew you two had a thing for each other and your co workers were relieved to hear you started dating!

if they weren't your subordinates, you might've heard more teasing comments about your boyfriend's regular visits. but those only happened occasionally and only from the really bold teachers or students!

[thepenultimateword]

Not That Special

"Good evening."

Detective cursed loudly, tea splattering the wall as they whipped around to face the thief lounging, ankle crossed over the knee, on their sofa. "What are you-- How did you get in?"

"Key."

"What key? There is no other key, I have the only set."

"Ah, the only set you knew of. I asked your landlord for the spares when you moved in. He thinks we're married."

Detective let that sink in a moment before forcing their mouth shut and running an exasperated hand down their face. "Alright. Ignoring that for now. Why are you here? I could have you arrested with one phone call."

"Oh, please don't do that. I'd have to make run for it, and I'm really trying to stay off the streets right now." Detective raised their eyebrows inquiringly, and they continued, "I'm on the downlow. A recent target really did not like being robbed. Two of my places are being watched, and I would not like to risk the third. You see I'm rather attached to my skin."

They slid the back of their hand down their cheek, turning their head haughtily to the side, almost like an invitation to admire them.

"So you decided you'd put me in danger?" Detective said.

Thief scoffed. "Nobody even knows who you are, let alone that I crash here in my off afternoons."

"You what?"

"Landlord thinks we're married, remember? You think that was a one-lie assumption? Keep up."

Detective had to sit down. Everything sort of felt like it was spinning out of control. Before they could think better of it they'd sunk down to the cushion on Thief's left and ducked their head between their knees with a long groan.

"I'm going to have to inform them I'm very much single. Then I'll have to change the locks. Probably change all my passwords--who knows where you've been snooping. Then there's the police."

Thief reached over their back and began massaging their neck. "Why. go through the stress? It's just a few measly days. I'll even return my set of the keys. As for the police, why is any of their business?"

Detective didn't have the energy to swat them away. The day had been exhausting enough all on it's own, and now all this...

Villain hit a knot, and they practically puddled at its gentle unraveling.

"Maybe because they're paying me to catch you? Besides, they already think I treat you specially. If it got out you were in my house and I didn't report it--"

"Like you said, if it got out I was in your house. Many times at that. With an eye witness. You really think they're going to believe I got in on my own?" Thief leaned against their shoulder, breath hot in Detective's ear. "After all. I am special."

Detective jerked out of their grip, their stomach dropping to their toes as they wheeled on Thief's pouted lips and innocent-seeming dark eyes. "Are you blackmailing me?"

Thief surged forward, wrapping their arms around Detective's neck. The scent of rosemary and mint wafted up from their hair. "Only a little. And only if you call someone."

Detective moved to shove them off, but Thief clung tight.

"I would like you to leave," Detective said, squeezing hard on Thief's wrists. "Now."

Thief still did not unlock. "I told you, I'm in trouble!"

"So? That's your thing! You love danger. Your court it so often your practically a suitor."

"But I went too far." Thief shifted a little. Detective didn't notice they'd climbed into their lap until their legs were wrapped as tightly around their waist as their arms were around their neck. "I robbed Corvina Sedero."

Just the name made Detective shiver. Dragging hidden criminals into the light was one thing. But the ones that stood in plain sight were quite another. Detective had been young when they realized that mere knowledge of wrongdoing was not enough. Evidence was one manacle and decent law enforcement the other, and Corvina Sedero with all her reputation remained chain-free. The rumor was that she skinned the people who crossed her. Detective had never taken it as hyperbole.

"If she catches me..." Thief drew out a hairbreadth from Detective's face, dark eyes shining. "I'm scared."

Detective probably would have taken it for a lie if they couldn't feel the rapid pound of Thief's heart against their chest. For a moment, they considered making the call anyway, telling Thief that the safest place for them was behind bars. But even if Thief didn't run for it, Detective doubted any prison was truly outside the reach of Corvina's claws.

"A few days," they sighed.

"Really?"

"But we come up with another solution in the meantime."

"Of course, it's not as if I planned on moving in." Thief snuggled against Detective's chest, limbs loosening into less of a death grip and into more of a real embrace. "I knew I could trust you."

Detective jolted a little. That was not a good thing. A Thief should not feel comfortable with the person actively trying to jail them. Yet they couldn't stop the warmth flooding their chest cavity. "Don't get used to it. I'm still telling my landlord I'm not married."

Thief did not argue.

"You're not going to say no? Tell me what a mistake I'd be making?"

Their only reply was soft breathing.

Detective flicked their gaze to Thief's face, eyes closed and tucked snuggly against their shoulder. They must have been as exhausted as Detective, holding on for confirmation before finally letting themselves drift off. Detective couldn't imagine how much running they must have done, how many dead ends they faced, before they got here.

Their arms hovered awkwardly over the criminal's thin back, stuck between ideas of guiding their wiry figure to the couch cushions and holding them back. They'd once read that hugging made the body release the oxytocin hormone to combat anxiety, and Thief probably could use as little anxiety as possible. But that didn't mean Detective needed to be the one to do it. The weighted blanket on their bed probably would do just as well.

Detective braced one palm against the couch back and gingerly rose to their feet. They turned off lights as they went, brain growing drowsier out of habit with the dark hall and spattering of wall lights ahead. They'd tuck Thief in and then collapse on the sofa.

It was just one night.

It wasn't wrong if they weren't in the same room.

And these were extenuating circumstances.

Anyone would be swayed.

Thief was not special.

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[saltydumplings]

Prompt #62

"Did you figure it out yet?" they asked.

Before them, the detective startled, shooting up from where they'd been sat on their desk only to calm again once they saw their visitor's face.

"Don't you ever knock?" they asked, sighing when they got nothing but a smirk in response. "Whatever, just, come look at this."

They motioned to the wall in front of them, what had once been blank space now covered in clippings and photos and names, all bound together in a spiderweb of red string. The detective began at the centre of the mess.

"The first victim: everything else revolves around this first incident - I know it does. At a glance, the murders seemed only connected by the way they were carried out. Same weapon, same wound, but these people themselves are connected. This isn't just some serial killer going on a rampage, this is someone burying information."

The visitor raised a brow, expression intrigued. "Go on," they encouraged.

And the detective did. They went over each and every case, explaining the little details they'd missed before and the significance they held. Their hand danced across the paths of their investigation, working its way up from the centre to the outer ring and then further out still, following a single branch that led away from the rest - the one tiny lead that gave them so little and so much all at once. It was them: the killer. They didn't have their face or their name, just the knowledge of a single meeting that had derailed everything they'd originally assumed.

Their fingers froze as they reached the pinpoint. They narrowed their eyes, confused when they noticed that their string continued on from it instead of dangling uselessly as it had before. Slowly, they followed it. The red branched off from the wall, swooping down and out, and when they turned they found the end of it held against the chest of their trusted visitor.

"Civilian?" they asked. "Wh-What are you doing?"

The villain smiled down at them, curling the string around their pinkie as they took one calculated step forwards.

"Helping you," they said. Their free hand rose up to cup the detective's face, thumb tracing softly across the dark shadows beneath their eyes. "You're tired, Detective. You've worked so hard...and I simply can't bare to let you work one second longer."

[rdkennith]

Black hair anime characters' headshots drawing

[kiwinatorwaffles]

SHITTY VALENTINES: 2024 EDITION

SHITTY VALENTINES ARE BACK! featuring evan from vdhau and gem from pdgt <3

last year's lineup can be found here