#villains and heroes

[assortedcriminality]

prompt #2

“Shit, you’re way more tired than I thought,” Villain said, easily dodging a poorly-aimed kick and ducking to avoid a malformed punch.

“Not tired,” Hero grunted, pausing the fight to half-fall into a wall, using an elbow to support themself. “Mmfine.”

Villain raised an eyebrow. “I see. Then you’ll be able to easily escape when I do this.”

Blindingly fast, they grabbed Hero’s shoulder and shoved them hard to the ground. The crime-fighter let out a sharp cry, pain radiating through their back. Their nemesis was on top of them before they could even think to move, straddling their hips and pinning their wrists to the floor.

“Go on,” Villain said, eyes gleaming as they locked gazes with their enemy. “Get up.”

[the-modern-typewriter]

The villain, who doesn't typically celebrate much anything gets invited to an event (holiday, gala, birthday, etc) by hero with no strings attached.

This is a Secret Santa snippet gift @snowshowerwriting 😊 Have a great one! I hope you enjoy.

---

“…And I was just wondering if, maybe, if you’re not too busy, you’d want to go with me?”

The villain stared at the hero for a long moment, watching the colour slowly creep up the hero’s cheeks and all the way up to the tips of their ears.

Snow begin to drift and eddy lazily on the empty rooftop around them.

“Only if you want to,” the hero said. “Sorry. You’re probably too busy, what with being…you. Forget I asked! It’s not a big deal or anything I just—”

“—You want me to go to the peace ball with you.”

“Only if you want to!”

“Why?”

The villain could think of a dozen reasons why, but none of them exactly fitted with their impression of the hero in front of them.

The annual peace ball was a tinsel-strewn, glittering festive affair designed to promote good will across the city by forcing all heroes and villains to join together in a night of absolute truce. No fighting. So help anyone who tried scheming, though of course everyone still did. Good will to all super-powered men, women and others on earth!

The villain had been invited before, in the first few years that the ball was hosted, by a few of the boldest players on either side of the roster. They’d always said no. Never mind that they’d never been much one for making a big deal out of arbitrary times of year. The hero in front of them was not a particularly bold creature, though, heroics aside. Nor were they the sort to want to make some kind of statement.

The hero was bafflingly genuine. Too true to themselves to be of much use in politics, and too powerful for most to want to risk taking a run at them. Powerful enough, certainly, that they didn’t need the villain’s protection or the implication of an alliance between them. Good enough, surely, that the villain struggled to envision a scenario where the hero tried to enlist them over mince pies.

Indeed, as far as the villain could tell, the hero had absolutely nothing to gain by having the villain on their arm.

The hero’s head tilted at the question. “Because I think it would be nice?”

“I’m not nice.”

“Well, no. But it would be nice to spend more time with you. But only—”

“—Only if I want to,” the villain finished.

The hero’s blush deepened. It was possibly one of the most adorable things that the villain had ever seen. Still, the hero stood their ground and waited for an answer, arms folded grumpily against their own overly expressive face.

“Yeah,” the villain said, smothering a smile. “Okay. Sounds…nice.” They kept their voice light. Casual. Their heart hammered in their chest, giving an almost painful squeeze at the bright grin that shamelessly crossed the hero’s face.

“Yeah?” The hero raised their eyebrows. “Nice.”

The villain snorted.

The hero’s grin grew, delighted. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Unless you’d rather meet there?”

“Seven is fine, but I’ll come get you. What address works?”

They made the arrangements, the hero practically fizzing, like they really were looking forward to a night with the villain at their side. No strings attached. It was…well. It was really was so damn nice. There was a rare, warm feeling buzzing in the villain’s chest.

Still.

“You do know you’re going to get hell for turning up with me, don’t you?” the villain asked. “Whatever your reasons.”

“Mm.” The hero made a show of thinking. “I fought a literal mutated snowman last week, but you know what really scares me? Other people’s dumb opinions at the Christmas party.”

The villain found themselves laughing.

“Honestly,” the hero said. “I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You could get hell for turning up with me. Whatever your reasons.”

“It’s cute that you think anyone other than you dares to give me hell about anything.”

“I could be a terrible, hellish date.”

“Oh yeah?” The villain took a step forward, before they could stop themselves. A belated lightbulb flicked on inside their head. “Is that what you are then? My date?”

“I mean—" The hero’s eyes widened. They floundered. They bit their lip, drawing the villain’s attention immediately, and parties were lame but that mouth was absolutely not. “Only if you want me to be!” the hero said. “We can just go as friends. Long suffering colleagues. I’m not trying to—”

“Oh, no. You’re my date, darling. No taking that back.”

“Oh, thank god.”

That time, the villain utterly failed at smothering a smile.

“Oh, crap. I mean—” The hero scrambled for a more eloquent, less relieved, cooler response. They came up endearingly blank.

“Nice?” the villain offered.

The hero narrowed their eyes, playful. “You’re mocking me. Rude.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date.”

“No?”

“It wouldn’t be very festive of me.”

“Oh, yes. Because you’re such a big fan of festivity and seasonal celebrations.”

The villain blinked, mostly out of surprise that the hero had been paying enough attention to even notice that. Maybe they shouldn’t have been surprised all things considered. The hero was smarter than they let on. “And yet,” they said, “you invited me to a seasonal celebration.”

“Well.” The hero shrugged, mostly managing careless that time. “Limited opportunities to take you out anywhere else. I think people might panic if I just turned up with you for a dinner.”

“We’d be served very quickly. I do tend to clear our restaurants with my presence.”

The hero snorted.

“So what does one do at a peace ball?” the villain asked, voice a murmur.

“There’s food. Drink.” The hero recovered themselves, reaching out and taking the villain’s hand, drawing them a few steps closer, leaving footprints in the snow beginning to coat the roof. Their voice softened too. Liquid caramel. “Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“You done much of that before?”

“You might have to teach me.”

“Well, we start by you wrapping your arms around me like this…”

The villain might have shivered. The hero might have grinned, humming a made-up tune beneath their breath as they swayed together.

The weeks until the ball flew by.

***

People did stare when the two of them walked in. The villain chose to believe it was because the hero looked absolutely gorgeous, despite their dubious choice of wearing a festive jumper to what was clearly supposed to be a black tie event. The jumper was red and said ‘yule can do it friend’.

Maybe the hero was bold, in their way. The villain definitely thought, in the last few weeks, that they’d underestimated their sometimes-enemy.

There were a lot of people crowded into the city hall venue. Pretty much everyone. The villain abruptly missed their usual peaceful night of strolling around the city, relishing the way that the streets emptied as everyone bundled away to wherever their festivities were.

No panic. No screaming or nervous looks. No chance of some would-be-hero showing up demanding what the hell they were doing.

The hero set a steadying hand on the small of their back, studying their face, and their easy read of the villain’s emotions should have been alarming. It was alarming. It was also…

“You good? Do you want to go and grab a drink?” the hero asked. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t drink in public.”

“They have hot apple juice and hot cocoa too. Some fancy mocktails.”

“You don’t mind that I’m not joining you on the champagne?”

“Why would I?”

Some people, the villain thought privately, minded. They had specific ideas on what a party was supposed to be like and felt judged should the villain deviate from that pre-determined idea. The hero led them through the party, expertly weaving people.

“So?” the hero waggled their eyebrows. “What will it be?”

The villain retreated from the stand with an alcohol-free glass of sparkling. Easy to blend in, even if the taste was nothing special. The two of them watched the room for a while, trying out the various different canapes in the buffet, chatting.

It felt better with the hero at their side. They so obviously knew what they were doing at a party, smoothly carrying conversation with anyone who came over, but not in a way that made it seem like they were schmoozing. It didn’t make the villain’s skin crawl. The hero mainly got excited about and asked for pictures of everyone’s pets. Whenever anyone tried to comment on the fact that the two of them were there together, the hero said cheerily that it was “nice, wasn’t it?”

They’d catch each other’s eyes as whoever it was left. An inside joke. It had been a long time since the villain had been in on an inside joke. With the hero, it was a little thrilling.

Of course, as the evening wore on, there was dancing.

The movements were familiar, after all of the hero’s ‘lessons’ in the lead up to the ball. It made it easy to ignore the rest of the room, and the gaudy tree, and the awkward feeling that they might destroy their reputation for the sake of a party. The hero didn’t care about their reputation, did they? They just did what they wanted to.

“So,” the villain said. “What else does one do on a date?”

The hero’s eyes lit up, better than any fairy-light or candle. They stroked their fingers along the nape of the villain’s neck. The music took the opportunity to change to something slow and intimate, inviting everyone to press a little closer. It should have annoyed the villain, but with the hero in their arms, grinning at them, it couldn’t possibly.

“Well,” the hero made a show of considering. “There’s hand-holding.”

“Indeed.” Their fingers wrapped around each other as they moved.

“And kissing.”

“Ah, kissing,” the villain said. Their gaze dipped, inevitably, to that mouth worth going to parties for. “You might have to teach me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed before,” the hero said, amused. “But I’m always happy to provide a refresher.”

“Part of being a good, heroic citizen I imagine. Helping out the needy.”

“Needy, are you?”

The villain opened their mouth. They registered what they said.

“You’re blushing,” the hero said.

“It’s rude to point it out and mock your date.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date,” the hero said. Then, finally, the hero leaned in to kiss them. Sweet, honeyed, and the warm thing in the villain's chest glowed. They dragged the hero closer, wanting more, more, more. The hero laughed with breathless pleasure and nipped at their lips.

The next year, the villain vowed right then, they were taking their hero somewhere private.

[liberandi-causa]

Warmth

"Most absurd is," Hero scowls, "you cuddling me to sleep on the basis of a fever—do you really have a fever?"

"Mmhm, all thanks to you." Villain craddles Hero closer, full lips settling to the top of Hero's head.

"Then, why are you the big spoon?"

"The sick one gets a pass, now hush and sleep."

And they did, a blissful one — surprisingly even to Hero, who has been suffering from recent episodes of insomnia.

Little did Hero know, aside from controlling the flames, Villain can also regulate his body temperature freely.

[avvail]

prompt #103

“How was I supposed to know you loved me?”

The villain raised an arched brow at them in disbelief. “It was obvious.”

“You threw me off a fifteen story building the other week alone.”

“In the name of love.”

[girlwithherheadinthestars]

Supervillain monologuing to the entire civilization of Villains: I will burn this world down and remake it into a thriving, beautiful metropolis where we will all be free to do as we wish without all that bullshit --

Hero (leaning against the wall, studying their nails): Language.

*everyone turns to look at Hero in shock; they didn't see them come in*

Hero: Oh, were you having like an epic bad guy moment there? Sorry for that man, I’ll just back up and you take from the top…

Supervillain: What-what are you doing here? Didn't I kill you?

Villain (hanging from the ceiling): Yeah, well, it clearly didn't work did it?

Supervillain: AND DIDN'T I FIRE YOU?

Villain: *shrugs*

Supervillain: AND HOW DID YOU TWO EVEN GET IN THIS IS THE MOST FORTIFIED BUILDING IN THE WORLD?

Villain: Well I'm glad you asked allow me to explain my brilliant idea -

Hero: You mean my brilliant idea --

Supervillain: Why do I even bother -- what do you two want?

Hero: Um, it's literally in my name. I'm a hero. I'm here to beat up villains. So unless you can prove yourself to be a good guy in the next two seconds it’s gonna get ugly.

Villain: i am so in love with you right now.

[run-little-hero]

Despite being relatively well-liked amongst the villainous population of City, Hero hadn’t encountered this before: upon returning home, Villain, buried under their bed covers, chest rising and falling in listless sleep. Hero keeps the lights off as they shut the open window and change.

They lift the covers and slide underneath, filling the space beside Villain. Villain stirs, cracking an eye open.

“Well, well,” Hero whispers. “What’s a lovely little troublemaker like yourself doing in my bed?”

Curtain-filtered moonlight casts over their face. Villain’s lips quirk up in half a smirk. “Was looking for someone to hold. Somewhere to hide.”

“From Supervillain?”

“Yes.”

Locking legs and hands finding waists; rites of comfort. Affection and longing. Suddenly, they’re both so tired.

“Can we stay like this for a while? Before you arrest me?” Villain’s question is suspended between theirs and Hero’s lips.

“You kidding?” Hero replies. “I might keep you to myself all night.”

They never fail to make Villain smile. “Maybe I should be more afraid.”

“Absolutely. People say I’m terrifying, haven’t you heard?” They tug Villain close, soliciting a laugh.

Hero reads something unspeakable in Villain’s gaze. A singular love they’ll never need to define, for they’re the first to hold Hero’s heart this way.

After a minute, “For the record, no one says you’re terrifying.” They burrow into the embrace. “But this is.”

It breaks Hero. These moments when each passing second feels like a facture. When holding Villain isn’t enough and reality promises to tear them apart.

“I know.” They kiss the crown of their head. “But we have tonight.”

Hero plans on sleeping in and waking up alone.

—

snippet #3

[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."

[chorusofcrows]

Villains who are polite and elegant while commiting crimes. Their fighting looks like a dance form. They're well-versed in how to act for/ preform for/ entertain the rich (they are the rich, "villainy pays well"). Genius (actual braindead idiot).

On the other hand, a hit-hard, ask-questions-after kind of hero. They're a disaster, and quite frankly help others because they don't know how (or don't want to) help themselves. Braindead idiot (accidental genius).

Now make it enemies to lovers.

Hero "hates" villain for their mannerism, but they're really just infatuated with them. Villain's taunts make them think about their actions.

Villain's attraction is "why are people in their midlife crisis so hot" and moronsexual™️. Hero makes their brain shortcircuit.

Hero: "Oh poor you, your perfect, greasy, pretty hair is singed."

Villain: Are they flirting or insulting me? God they're so bad at it no matter which on it is (It's both), that's so sexy

Hero, bruised and bloody, getting up with shaky legs, smiling. It's very attractive: "I've been hit harder"

Villain, nose bleeding: "Hello, sailor"

Villain, dusting off their now riped-in-shambles suit, and straightening the cuffs, "I just got this suit after you destroyed the last one. I would ask you to purchase me a new set of attire, but I doubt you can afford it."

Hero, their brain thinking 'No, I deffinately cannot' to 'I'd like to see them without the suit entirely' to 'Wait, what?' and 'God, I hate them, their lovely voice, their hair that smells like how honey tastes, the way they smile when they reveal their plans' and would really like to see villain without the suit entirely (even through villain looks great in all of their suits): "Just stop wearing suits and wear something that can handle me."

Villain, wondering if Hero is doing this on purpose (they aren't) and what their relationship even is: "Hot"

Hero: "What"

Villain: "What"

Hero: "Did you just call me ho-"

Villain, paniking: "You're on fire"

Hero: "???? No, I'm no-????"

Villain, pulling out a flamethrower and shooting Hero (dw they're flame-proof): hO t.

[villainousauthor]

The hero wrinkles their nose at smell of antiseptic wipes, at the cold feel against their skin, as the villain prepares to draw more blood. They've lost count how many vials Villain has taken at this point.

Hero winces, trying to flinch away at the inevitable sharp pinch, and Villain digs their fingers into their arm some more. They press hard, cold hands keeping them still. "If I mess up, I'll have to stick you again." They warn, voice level. Paper crinkles under where Hero sits, the soft sound filling the silence.

Hero keeps their gaze downward, the bright florescent lights over head giving them a headache. You think with how long they've been here, they would have gotten used to the ugly, artificial glare, but they miss the sun.

They look up at Villain through their lashes, who's currently too focused on their current task to notice, eyebrows pinched together as they seem deep in thought.

"I doubt you're even certified to be drawing blood in the first place." Hero ribs, voice quiet, the words light but the humor just quite not there.

Villain snorts, as they finish and pull the IV out gently. "I've seemed to be able to do it fine all these weeks." They apply the cotton bandage to the area, securing it in place, though it's honestly not necessary, the small wound already likely healed.

Hero knows they shouldn't be trying to make Villain laugh, or trying to lighten the tense air that surrounds their every interaction. They should be attempting to escape, should be fighting tooth and nail against the strange experiments their arch nemesis insists on trying, but so many failed escapes and so many weeks without the presence of any other person has them weak for any human contact they can get.

They've almost begun to mistake the way Villain grabs their arm when taking blood, the way Villain's cold hand holds their face still when swabbing their mouth, the way they stand close when checking their vitals, as misplaced forms of affection.

It's pure delusion, Hero knows this, but they crave another persons touch so much they can almost believe it. Thinking about it too much makes their head hurt more than even the obnoxious overhead lights do.

Villain takes their silence as a sign to continue speaking. "Soon enough, I'll find the secret behind how your regenerative abilities work and then I'll be unstoppable." They say cleaning up, and placing the three tubes of blood they took on the tray to their left. Hero's head swirls as they watch the swishing of the dark red liquid.

Facing them again, still standing close, Villain's eyes finally meet Hero's and their voice softens slightly when they say this next part. "I won't have to poke and prod you so much when I do." Their voice is gentle enough that Hero wants to believe them, to trust them.

Hero licks their dry lips, voice cracking slightly. "Will...will you finally let me go once you do?" The question Hero has been avoiding asking this whole time.

The question gives Villain pause, as they seem to consider it for a moment. They step closer, placing their hands on either side of where Hero sits, bracketing them in. "I could...I probably should.." Villain's voice is whisper quiet as they stand inches away, breath fanning over Hero's ear.

"But I think prefer keeping you for myself."

[automeris-io-moth]

Hostage situation

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day,” Hero murmured, clacking the silver spoon at the edge of the table, their eyes fixed still on the full plate before them. 

“Eat, Hero.” 

Their eyebrows furrowed in response, face twisting into a scowl. Hero lifted their head, looking to meet the others' eyes, thinking that, perhaps, they were just as unsure to face truthfully the other as they were. 

Villain was not. Brown eyes which shined yellow under the warm light of the room faced them, straight and unwavering. 

Hero averted theirs once again.

“You don’t care for what I have to say?” 

“Not particularly,” Villain answered, “but if it means a lot to you, go right ahead.” 

Hero swallowed 

“I’ll take your deal,” they answered,quickly, as fast as they could to disguise the trembling of their voice. “I’ll support your case, I’ll make sure it gets to Superhero, to the President and the Ministry of Security, I’ll get Sidekick back to you.” 

Swirling their wine on the cup, white to make good pair with the salmon, Villain nodded, solemnly and slowly, almost doubtfully, and yet the mere hint of a positive answer made Hero’s heart pound inside their chest. Not yet relief but the dread that came right before it. 

“Oh Hero,” Villain answered, the tone of pity melting with their words “but you’ve already done that, my sidekick’s being transported to me right now. A hostage exchange if you may.”

The chain on their ankle rattled as they threw themselves back on the chair, blood pumping inside their ears. 

“Are you letting me go? Am I going back with Superhero?!” 

A moment of silence was followed by a deep, hoarse laugh, rumbling across the room and shaking if ever so slightly the silverware and glasses. 

“Of course not sweet, sweet, dumb thing,” they answered “you’re staying right here with me, with us.” 

Hero’s heart felt like falling from a thousand floors. And a deep, unescapable sentiment of despair felt like a cold sweat inducing fever dream. 

“No!” Hero wailed,  “No, no, no. You said that if, that when you, when Sidekick came back to you you would let me go, you promised! I told you I would take the deal.” 

“You were too late, pet, you took too long, I want to keep you now.” 

_

Masterlist

I'm very hopefully back, still working on my motivation to keep writing but making a good effort I promise.

[writerthreads]

How to write a villain protagonist

By Writerthreads on Instagram

Writing a villain as your main character can be a lot of fun, but it takes some finesse to make them both captivating and believable. You want the audience to stay hooked on their journey, even if they don't exactly like them. Here’s how you can pull it off:

Give Them a Real Reason for What They Do

Your villain needs a solid, personal motivation. It doesn’t have to justify their actions, but it should help the reader understand why they’re doing what they’re doing. Are they after power? Revenge? Or maybe they think they’re saving the world in their own twisted way? Give them a goal that feels deeply personal, even if it’s dark.

Make Them More Than Just “Evil”

A one-note villain gets boring fast. Your villain needs to have layers—maybe they’ve got a tragic past, a secret fear, or something they genuinely care about. The more depth you give them, the more interesting they’ll be. Show us the human side of them, even if they try to hide it.

Let Them Be Likeable… In Their Own Way

Even villains need redeeming qualities, something that makes us stick with them. Maybe they’re charming, super clever, or fiercely loyal to someone. We don’t have to agree with them, but giving them qualities we can respect or understand helps the reader stay invested.

Show Their Inner Struggles

Villains aren’t always cold-blooded. They can have moments where they doubt themselves, or hesitate before crossing a line. Letting us in on their internal conflict makes them more human, and gives us a reason to care, even when they’re making terrible choices.

Let Us See the World Through Their Eyes

Show the world from their perspective and let us understand why they think they’re in the right. Even if we disagree, getting inside their head helps us relate to them on some level.

Don’t Feel Like You Need to Make Them Good!

Resist the temptation to redeem your villain at every turn. It’s okay if they stay bad or make morally questionable choices. The appeal of a villain protagonist often comes from their willingness to do things a hero wouldn’t. Let them be ruthless if that’s who they are.

Give Them a Worthy Opponent

Just because your main character is the villain doesn’t mean they shouldn’t face opposition. In fact, they need it more than ever! Whether it’s a classic hero trying to stop them or someone even worse than they are, your villain should have someone challenging them, which keeps the stakes high.

Make the Stakes Personal

Villains usually have something or someone they care about, even if it’s in a twisted way. Maybe they’re trying to protect someone, prove something, or avoid a fate worse than death. Whatever it is, make sure the stakes feel personal and emotional. That way, when they make their big, terrible decisions, we understand why.

Play with Moral Grey Areas

Writing a villain protagonist lets you explore deeper questions of morality. What is “good” or “evil” when seen from their perspective? How far would they go to achieve their goals, and what does that say about them—or us? Use their journey to challenge both your characters and your readers on these themes.

This was a post requested by one of our followers! If you want specific help, let us know in the comments, or DM us :) Or if you're on Tumblr, our question box should be open.

[assortedcriminality]

snippet #1 - thursday

Civilian had been standing on the doorstep of one of the most wanted criminals in the city for more than ten minutes now. Their right hand was in a fist, as though they were about to knock, but were stuck in a loop of perpetual hesitation. In their left they clutched an unmarked envelope.

They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Just knock, they told themself. Get it over with and fucking knock.

But they’d only just raised their fist and swung it towards the door when it flew open, revealing only darkness. From inside, an aggressive hand grabbed Civilian’s wrist and pulled them into the shadowed hall. They yelped, the sound instantly silenced as fingers closed around their throat and their back slammed into a wall. The door closed ominously behind them, seemingly on its own.

“Villain, please-“ Civilian choked out before the criminal’s grip tightened and their words were cut off.

“You come to my personal address, stand at the door for ten minutes, and then call me Villain?” They hissed. “Who the hell are you?”

“I…I’m a m-messenger.” Their voice came in gasps as they struggled for air, right hand tugging ineffectively at Villain’s arm.

“For who?” Villain’s eyes were cold, unforgiving.

They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t think. They could barely even manage to whisper the two syllables they needed. “Hero.”

The fingers disappeared from their neck. Civilian collapsed to the floor, coughing violently. Every shaky inhale hurt, pain radiating from their abused throat. That was going to leave a bruise.

A light flickered on, illuminating the entrance hall. Villain leaned casually against the door and looked down at their uninvited guest. “So… you work for Hero.”

They nodded, wincing at the discomfort the sudden movement caused. “I’m their assistant.”

The criminal snorted. “Do they even pay you for that?”

Civilian glanced up in surprise, momentarily forgetting about the pain. “What? Of course they do. It’s a full-time job.”

“I suppose you just wait hand and foot all day long?” Villain asked with a raised eyebrow, voice dripping with disdain. “Do all their paperwork and feed them peeled grapes?”

They flushed, standing up and brushing dust off of their pants. “I didn’t come here to be insulted. Or strangled, for that matter. Hero sent me with a message for you.”

“My sincerest apologies, Mx. Hero’s Assistant.” Villain crossed their arms, annoyed. “Why didn’t they come pay me a visit themself?”

“…I guess they’re busy today,” Civilian said, massaging the side of their neck. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. They said to give this to you.” They held out the envelope.

Suspicion crossed the criminal’s face, but they took it and flipped it over. It was secured with a wax seal imprinted with Hero’s famous insignia. The seal was perfectly intact. “You haven’t read this?”

The assistant shook their head. “Hero told me it was for your eyes only.”

After a moment of hesitation, Villain broke the wax and pulled a folded piece of ivory stationary out of the envelope.

Dear Villain,

I’m holding up my end of the deal. This is Civilian, my assistant. I heard you need a hostage for next Thursday. Feel free to use them. I think you two will get along. Oh, and you can threaten and maim them, of course, but I’d prefer you didn’t cause them fatal harm. They make a damn good cup of coffee, and I’d hate to deprive the world of that. Looking forward to rescuing them from your clutches ;)

The message was signed with Hero’s insignia. Villain stared at the crisp, professional handwriting for a full minute, rereading it at least four times to make sure they understood. When they’d bargained with Hero and asked for help with a scheme, this kind of assistance wasn’t exactly what they had in mind. But they couldn’t not accept it, Hero would flip out, and their rivalry was already on thin ice. Even though they were a terrible person, Villain couldn’t afford to lose them as a nemesis. Their credibility as a high-tier villain would take a big hit. It wasn’t like-

“Can I go now?” Civilian asked tentatively, interrupting the criminal’s train of thought. “Sorry, it’s just that I have a ton of work to get to today, and Hero doesn’t like it when I’m late on assignments.”

Villain sighed, turning the lock on the door. “No, apparently. Look, I’m really sorry about this, but you can’t leave. At least, not until Thursday.”

The new captive blinked. “What? Wh-no, I’m not staying here, are you crazy? Why would I do that?”

“Your boss just got you involved in our…feud,” they hedged. “It’s complicated, but we made a deal, and for some reason, they gave me… you… for their end.”

“What?” Civilian yelped. “No! They wouldn’t—why would they-?”

“I’m sorry, Civilian.” They took a step forward, spreading their hands. “I have no idea why your boss does half the things they do. They’re a completely different person when they’re not around the press or anyone they work with.”

Civilian stepped back. “How do you know my name?”

Villain looked down at the paper in their hand as if they’d forgotten it was there. “Oh. It was in the letter-“

“Give me that.” They snatched the letter out of Villains hand before they could protest, eyes scanning the page. When they finished reading, they slowly looked up. Their expression was deadly calm. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Civilian, I didn’t have anything-“

“They said you could maim me-“

“-they’re insane, I-“

“-damn good cup of coffee-“

“-not my fault-“

“-can’t believe this-“

“Civilian!” Villain finally shouted, taking their captive’s hands. Civilian flinched instinctively, jerking away from the criminal. They stared at the floor, Hero’s letter held tightly in their fist.

Villain cursed themself internally. “I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could let you go.”

“So do it.” Civilian wouldn’t meet their gaze. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

“You don’t understand, Civilian,” they pleaded. “I need to stay Hero’s nemesis, otherwise my career would be over. If I let you go, Hero would instantly cut me off.”

Civilian struggled for words. What could they say? It was clear that Hero didn’t care about them. Hell, they’d orchestrated this whole thing. Villain didn’t have anything to do with it, save their criminal nature. But they had nearly killed Civilian earlier, which lost them some points.

They looked up at Villain and sighed when they saw the expression on their ‘captor’s’ face.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll stay until Thursday.”

Villain’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Okay. Good. I have a spare room you can stay in. Just make me a list of everything you need and I’ll get it for you.”

“Can I use your phone?” they asked. “People will worry if I don’t text them back for three days.”

“You don’t have yours?”

“Hero said to leave it behind.”

Villain snorted, pulling their phone out of their pocket and unlocking it with a press of their thumb before handing it over. “Typical.”

“I’m quitting on Friday,” Civilian mumbled as they typed out a brief message to their friends and family that they were taking a break from screens for a little while.

“I’m not sure Hero would take that well.”

Civilian gave the phone back, looking straight into Villain’s eyes. “Well, that’s not my problem. None of this is my problem.”

“I know. I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this. Hero should know better than to involve regular people in our business. This is between me and them.” Villain’s gaze was intense, inescapable. “I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you. I’ll do what I can to… make it up to you, somehow.”

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Civilian was the first to break it. “Well, I’m still pissed at you for throttling me, so you’d better get started on that now,” they said, brushing past Villain into the apartment beyond the front hall. “Where’s my room?”

Some of the tension dissipated from the air. Villain let out a nervous laugh, following a few steps behind their ‘hostage’ and trying to school themself back into their normal, devil-may-care self. “Uh, second door on the left. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m going out for a few hours, but I’ll order something for dinner. Is Chinese okay?”

“Sure,” came the response, ridiculously casual considering the situation.

“Okay.” Villain made sure Civilian would be fine on their own before gathering themself and heading out the door, locking it securely behind them. They pulled their hood over their head, lingering on the doorstep for a minute to take a deep breath and think through their plans. There was a lot to do before Thursday.

word count: 1464

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hiii! Could you please write some hurt comfort hero and villain? Where it has a “who did this to you” vibes! Thanks! No pressure if you don’t want to!

"You look..." The villain's gaze travelled slowly up the hero, taking in the hard lines of them, the uncanny iciness that had replaced a once warm, familiar face. "Different."

"And you look like hell. Let's get you out of here."

Despite the fact that the hero had just blown the villain's chains to smithereens, the villain didn't move. They leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall of their cell, still staring.

The hero's fingers flexed agitated at their sides.

"I can - if you're hurt, I can help you stand. I don't - you're safe now."

It was like an act they didn't know how to play any more. The script was the same, but the tongue behind the words was a sharper thing. A whittled thing. Made hard and venomous with desperation. Like the world had taken an axe to everything that made the hero them and started hacking.

"Who did this to you?" the villain demanded.

"What?"

"You're all..." Their head lolled, as they tried to tilt it customarily to one side. Their broken fingers hurt too much to wiggle them effectively in the hero's direction, but they did their best. "Not you. All..."

"They hurt you," the hero said. Flat. Deadly.

The villain wet their cracked, swollen lips. Their voice came out raspy. "I heard screaming."

"Yeah." Something dark and protective simmered in the hero's eyes. It looked awfully a lot like 'they deserved it'. Like how the villain's eyes used to look, through a mirror darkly, until the pain scorched through everything cold and steely inside them.

"You killed people. You killed...you came for me."

"We need to go," the hero said, through gritted teeth. "We need to get you out of here. Come on." The hero ducked down, only to falter when their gruff tug immediately made the villain's whole world go fuzzy with hurting. The touch turned gentle as the villain flinched. The hero's hands floundered, like they no longer knew the language of caring, but still remembered that they wanted to try.

A stupid prickle of tears stung the villain's eyes.

"Who did this to you? Who-"

"-Please," the hero said. "Put your arms around me. You need to work with me here. Please."

The villain wrapped their aching arms around the hero's shoulders. The hero lifted them up, holding them oh so carefully. Being upright was still enough to make the villain's vision pop and then blacken.

When they regained consciousness, they were walking through a slaughter house. Blood everywhere. As if a hurricane given teeth and claws had ripped through the building.

"Did I do this?" the villain asked.

"No, love."

But that wasn't quite right.

"No, I mean - I was gone," the villain said. Their head felt so fuzzy with everything they had been given, but the sharp edges of the hero were so clear, if only they could find the words to paint the picture half as well, let the knowledge swirling inside them settle. "You were on your own. How long have you been trying to rescue me?"

"It's going to be alright, okay? I've got you. You're alright."

"Are you?"

"I'm not the one who's been tortured!" It came out a snap, and maybe the villain should have flinched after an eternity of raised voices and raised weapons, but they didn't.

"You don't do so well on your own," the villain said instead, softly. "You never have."

The hero's throat bobbed as they swallowed, convulsive, choking something down. "Don't."

The villain raised a hand, rubbing their thumb over the gaunt line of the hero's face.

The hero flinched back.

"It's going to be alright," the villain said. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."

"You -" The hero laughed then, a broken thing. They jerked their head to the side but it didn't hide the tears glinting in their eyes. "Maybe let's not focus on me right now. You were - what they did to you - they told that they - I should have got here faster."

"I'm sorry they used me against you."

"Don't."

"Tell me their names?"

"They're all dead."

"Tell me anyway."

"I killed them."

"I know, love. Tell me anyway."

The hero swore, but the villain could practically watch some life creep back into those icy eyes. Some horror. Some thing that wasn't a stranger. Their hero. The hero held them a little tighter, cradling them a little closer against their chest.

"Just - later. Let me get you help. You need help."

Well, the villain couldn't argue with that. Still. Their own body didn't feel half as perturbing as the way the hero's eyes iced over again, determined to see through the job, to not shatter no matter what they'd done to get to where they were. To get the villain back. To save them.

They tucked themselves closer to the hero's chest, to their heart - thumping proof of life, proof of hope, proof that maybe they hadn't entirely lost the thing they cared about most of all.

Who did this to you?

But the villain didn't really need to ask.

The answer was always their own name.

[liberandi-causa]

Enemies with Benefits

"So, let me get this straight," Hero raises a hand, "after throughly beating me out there, you're here now, treating my wounds and my twisted ankle, while also feeding me soup?"

Villain raises a brow, "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Yes," Hero rolls her eyes, hands moving to cover her face—as if hiding an embarassment that shouldn't have been hers. Then, she places them both by her sides, leaning onward to Villain, "have you considered that maybe it's not the usual procedure between the Chosen One and the Harbinger of Ruin?"

"Traditions bore me." Villain wipes a stain of the cream soup on the edge of Hero's mouth, "Now, say ahh."

[avvail]

a villain that can hypnotise people through touch

The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.

“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.

“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”

“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”

The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”

“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”

The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.

“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”

The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.

“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”

“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”

“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”

The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”

“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”

The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”

“Then I come to you.”

“Stay away.”

The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.

“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”

“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.

“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”

It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.

“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

The hero obediently follows them along.