adre'inks

Instead, Hero went through the motions, abandoning their coffee when it became evident they weren’t going to drink it, and following the lead of the rest in the hopes they could maybe figure out what was going on. They blanked out a couple of times during the briefing. A couple more times during the drive over.

They had hoped the chaos of the battle would hit them with enough adrenaline to see them through, but the sight of collapsing buildings and Supervillain’s robot army seemed to make everything blue screen.

Realising this was going to be a problem, Hero gathered up a little electricity in their hand and shocked themself. The jolt pushed the fog back a little. Just enough for instinct to kick in as they fell into formation, taking out a robot that had gotten a little closer than it should have.

Robots were tricky to fight, Hero found. Too little electricity and they unintentionally power them up. Too much and they were at risk of burning out. There was a sweet spot that Hero did not have the mental faculties to calculate right now.

Too much it was.

The next three robots exploded on impact with large bolts of lightning. A bit flashier than Hero’s normal techniques but they didn’t have the time or energy to care as a few more swarmed towards them.

They did the same again. Taking each of them out easily though with a high energy cost. And as the last one crumbled to the ground, they felt everything go blank. No sound, no vision, no… anything really. And as briefly as it started it was gone, and Superhero was there yelling in their face.

“Dammit, Hero! What the hell was that?!”

“I-“

“It’s clearly quantity over quality this time, so stop wasting your energy on easy prey. I haven’t got time to babysit you, so get your head in gear!”

“Sorry, I-“

But Superhero didn’t stay to listen to any excuses, and Hero didn’t have time to call after them as Partner was starting to struggle with their own group.

Hero ran over, firing another arc of lightning, though this time trying their best to control the output. It was a success, only slightly overkill this time. They tried the same with the next few though the output wildly fluctuated. It wasn’t until the last one that they messed up and instead super-charged the robot. With a sudden surge of energy, the robot flew over to Partner and landed a blow that sent them flying into a wall.

Hero cursed and fired another bolt, but the robot easily dodged and flew off, likely to launch a surprise attack on one of the others. They ran over to Partner to make sure they were alright, relieved to find them mostly just bruised.

“Hero, what the fuck?!” Partner groaned, trying to sit up.

“Sorry,” Hero winced as they helped them up. “I- I’ll go after them!”

They reached Superhero just as the robot knocked them into the ground, taking their normally resilient leader by surprise. Superhero took a few hits before their brain caught up and finally managed a dodge, kicking the robot back a few meters. The machine got ready for another charge but promptly burst to pieces as Hero got within range to hit it with a bolt.

Superhero turned to Hero, about to say something. Whether it was to shout a thanks or tell them off again they didn’t know. The words died on Superhero’s lips as their eyes widened in horror. They opened their mouth to shout something else, but it all fell on deaf ears as Hero was hit with another fog. The darkness suddenly all-consuming and oh-so-welcoming before they came to yet again. A figure stood flush behind them, one arm around their waist whilst the other hand tilted Hero’s head up to look at them.

“Back with us, are you?” Supervillain grinned, towering over Hero in all their mechanised regalia. Hero panicked, hand going straight to Supervillain’s arm and flooded it with a significant shockwave.

“You must really be out of it,” Supervillain cooed. “It’s been years since you’ve fallen for that.”

Hero flinched, releasing their grip, but the damage had already been done. The red lights of Supervillains augmentations grew noticeably brighter as hidden empty cores suddenly found themselves at full charge.

“God, you look awful though,” they continued, turning their gaze then to Superhero. “You really letting your people fight in this condition?”

“Let them go, Supervillain,” Superhero demanded. “Your fight’s with me.”

“You’re the one who brought a liability onto the battlefield. I’m simply taking advantage,” Supervillain replied casually before returning to examine Hero. “Seriously, when was the last time you got any sleep?”

Hero tried to pull their head out of Supervillain’s grip, only for it to tighten in return.

“None of that now, little spark,” they tutted. “I asked you a question.”

“Yesterday,” Hero hissed, continuing their struggle to break free.

“Try again,” Supervillain scolded. “And I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, Superhero. Lest something happen to Hero here.”

Superhero stopped in their tracks, gritting their teeth as they tried to come up with a solution.

“Shall I run through the calculations?” Supervillain suggested. “The little spark just finished a twelve-hour shift. Before that, there was that emergency with Villain which took six hours to resolve. Before that was the press event which took four hours and let’s not forget those three hours you spent running errands for Partner who was stuck doing paperwork…”

Hero froze in their struggles. How did they-?! They thought, mind whirring and a dread beginning to form in the pit of their stomach.

“…food shop before that which took an hour and a half. Then there was all that general life admin which took four hours. Three hours visiting family, following the six hours you babysat your cousin for. And then another twelve-hour shift before that which ran seven hours overtime because a certain someone had a personal emergency,” Supervillain finished, briefly giving Superhero a pointed glance before looking back down at Hero. “Did I miss anything?”

“How- how long…?” Hero asked, horrified to hear the answer.

Supervillain only grinned in return, which Hero found far worse.

“I think we can both agree they shouldn’t be out in this condition. Right, Superhero?”

Superhero said nothing, though guilt hung heavy on them like a shroud.

“It’s not their fault,” Hero protested, trying and failing to renew their struggles. “They didn’t know.”

“Of course they knew,” Supervillain said, pulling Hero tighter against them and leaning in closer to their ear. “They all knew from just one look at you. And yet here you are regardless.”

Superhero took another step forward, and a nearby robot shot a blast at the ground just inches in front of them.

“I already said, didn’t I?” Supervillain warned, and Superhero was forced to stop again.

“What do you want, Supervillain?” Superhero gritted. “I doubt you’re here just to critique my methods.”

“True,” they answered. “I might have gotten a bit distracted when I saw my little spark fumbling about instead of back home in bed. Though I will admit, it is quite fun knocking you off that high horse of yours.”

Superhero’s jaw clenched, their patience finally reaching its end. They took another step forward.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Supervillain said. A giddy smile baring his teeth. “I still have a hostage, you know?”

“You’re not going to kill them.”

“You know that for certain?” Supervillain asked. Hero flinched as they leaned back into their ear, whispering frantically as Superhero sped up their advance. “You see how they treat you? Not a care in the world for your wellbeing. Can you see it, little spark? You’re nothing but a tool to them-!”

A robot jumped between them just as Superhero was nearly within melee, only to be knocked down instantly by Superhero’s punch. Their fist shattered the contraption in two as it crumpled into a jittering heap of sparks and machine parts. Another robot tackled them from the side, colliding into Superhero’s immovable frame. This one was grabbed by the head and flung into another advancing unit.

Before another one could get in their way, Superhero burst forward fist raised, straight towards Supervillain.

Supervillain grinned, and Hero had barely a second to get out a warning before Superhero’s fist flew… and met with Supervillain’s mechanised hand.

“My turn,” said Supervillain, as the red lights on their arm brightened and crackled. Superhero hadn’t recovered quick enough from the shock of getting caught before a blast of electrical discharge sent them flying backwards and into a building. Concrete walls exploding on impact as a cloud of dust obscured the air around the site.

Hero called out Superhero’s name as they tried to break out of Supervillain’s hold.

“They’re fine,” Supervillain chuckled, not budging in the slightest. “Something like that isn’t going to kill them outright. Which is why I’m really glad I had some good ones in reserve.”

Several of Supervillain’s better creations landed outside the crash site, weapons charged and preparing to go in. As quickly as they could, Hero charged up and fired a bolt of lightning directly at the robot closest to the entrance. Only for Supervillain to pull Hero’s arm up just as they released it. The bolt shot through the building instead, starting a fire on the upper floors. Hero groaned as a nauseating wave of dizziness ran through them.

“Well, that was fun,” Supervillain remarked. “Shall we try that again?”

“L-let go of me,” Hero cried, their vision blurring worse than it had done all day. “Need to help…”

“I know you do, you poor little workaholic,” Supervillain sighed patronisingly, leaning their chin on Hero’s head. “Tell you what, if you can stay awake for one more minute, I’ll let you join in.”

“Promise?” Hero asked, clinging onto whatever dregs of hope and adrenaline they could find.

“Cross my heart. Let me know when you’re ready to start.”

Hero wasn’t sure what Supervillain meant by that, but gave the affirmative as quick as they could, not wanting to waste any more time. The second they did, Supervillain placed their hand over Hero’s eyes.

“One, two, three…” Supervillain began slowly. Their voice soft and droning against Hero’s ear. Hero tried to shake them off, but Supervillain was having none of it. “Hold still now, or I’ll have to start the timer again.” Hero gritted their teeth but reluctantly stopped fighting, allowing Supervillain to continue their counting.

Supervillain stopped long before they reached sixty.

Elliot is a barmaid from a small town who gets kidnapped and enslaved by Captain Christian Whitlock and his crew of pirates

Chapters:

Captured

Day 1 Aboard the Serpent's Wrath

Picrews:

Elliot

Taglist:

Elliot lives in a tiny coastal village which is a popular rest stop for voyagers, merchant ships, and military vessels traveling between large ports. Pirate Captain Christian Whitlock and his crew come to dock in this village where he sees Elliot working in the tavern. Elliot flirts with him, as he does with most of his patrons, and Christian instantly decides that Elliot is his to own.

Before they return to the ship for the night, Christian waits for hours outside of the tavern for Elliot's shift to end, his crew conveniently staked nearby. When Elliot finally leaves the tavern, Christian intercepts and kidnaps him, dragging him kicking and screaming—or at least, he would be, if he wasn't bound and gagged—onto Christian's ship.

Worthless Pirate Au

Content: kidnapping, reference to sexual harassment, reference to noncon, bound and gagged whumpee, mention of sex work, slavery whump

Elliot's feet had gone numb somewhere between hours ten and twelve of his shift at the tavern. His ears were ringing in the absence of the drunken chatter he'd grown so used to. His eyes were heavy and every part of his body ached as he plodded down the tavern's creaking stairs into the cool night air. He longed for a bath and his warm bed, but he had to make it through at least a fifteen-minute trek in order to get there.

"Hey, sweetheart," a voice called out to him.

Elliot groaned internally as he turned to face the rugged man whose presence he hadn't initially noticed. The man was leaning casually against the outer wall of the tavern, a handsome smirk on his scarred face. Elliot guessed he should've recognized him, but he'd seen hundreds of drunkards that night whose faces all seemed to blend together.

Civilian was trying hard not to watch the clock. It had to be the end of the work day, but glancing at the clock, they found only 10 minutes had passed. They groaned for the third time today before picking up their phone and texting their partner.

This day is never ending.

A moment later, their phone pinged. You can do hard things. 😉 Keep your eye on the prize! 🍣 love you!

Civilian smiled. They were so thankful for the quiet relationship they held. A dinner date in, and cuddles on the couch was their relationship goal. They did not crave the attention dating one of the city's hero's often brought.

They had seen how other relationships had broken under the pressure of the public eye. They refused to allow that to happen to them. If their relationship failed, it would be because they didn't fit together, not news cameras and gossip magazines.

The next time they looked at the clock was 45 minutes to the end of the workday. They started slowly packing up. Enough work still out to not catch their boss's ire but not so much they would be delayed leaving when the clock finally struck 5.

They jumped when the phone on their desk rung. The light flashed showing it was coming from the front desk. Well that can't be good.

"Hi Civilian. I wanted to let you know that your partner is downstairs waiting for you."

"Oh!"

"Sorry for the surprise. Normally, no one wants a call from me last minute on a Friday."

"It's fine. I didn't expect the call and didn't expect them to pick me up. Must be because it's date night."

"Oh how fun! Well, get off the phone with me and get going. They are waiting in the parking garage for you."

"Thanks."

Civilian didn't need to be told twice. They closed their laptop, grabbed their bag, and made their way down to the garage.

Stepping out of the elevator, they didn't immediately see their partner's car. It wasn't a flashy car. Standard grey SUV so it wasn't always easy to spot in the sea of similar cars in the garage.

"Looking for someone?"

Civilian whirled at the sudden voice. They hadn't noticed anyone in the lot when they stepped off the elevator. The individual who had spoken was off to the side.

"Yeah. My partner is here to pick me up."

Civilian did another scan of the parking lot and came up empty.

The stranger hummed. "Hero sent me to pick you up. A special date night for the happy couple."

Civilian looked back at the stranger who had stepped towards them. They took an involuntary step back when they finally recognized the Villain before them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Civilian managed.

A van screeched forward and stopped at Civilian's back.

"Let's not pretend." The villain stalked forward. "It won't change the outcome."

part I - part II

“Medic!” Hero cried. The name echoed off of the empty buildings around them. Medic’s crumpled form was utterly, terribly still. Through the haze, Hero couldn’t even be sure they were breathing. “Medic,” they said again, quiet, desperate. “Please be alive. Please be okay.” 

An awful silence filled the air as Hero stared at Medic’s body, a tear running freely down their cheek. It felt like razor-sharp talons were squeezing their heart, as if it could burst at any moment. Hero couldn’t even tap their earpiece to let the team know. How long until camp realizes Medic had been gone for far too long? Would they come looking? What if they couldn’t get them to a hospital? What if they couldn’t fix it? What if they were already gone?

“Oh, my.” From the alley across the street came a soft, familiar voice. “What have we here?” 

Hero saw red, anxiety transforming instantly to rage. “Show yourself, I dare you-”

“At ease, nemesis, I beg. You’re not in a position to be making demands anyhow.” A figure emerged from the shadows dressed all in black, a matching smoke mask covering their mouth and nose. “Why, you couldn’t even protect your own favorite teammate.” They crouched down, fingers reaching for Medic’s throat.

“Villain, I swear, if you touch them, I will murder you-”

“Hush. I’m checking for a pulse, you dunce.” A tense few seconds passed. Hero leaned forward slightly, as if they could hear Medic’s heartbeat from there. 

They couldn’t help themself. “Are they alive? Are they going to be okay?”

Villain glanced their way with a sly smile. “They’re alive.” 

Relief broke over Hero like a sunrise, and they closed their eyes with the weight of it. Medic was alive. Alive. Thank the stars. Now they just needed to find a way to get Medic help, and everything would be fine. 

They opened their eyes to catch Villain mid-motion, lifting Medic into their arms with superhuman grace. At this angle, Hero could see the blood dripping from a dark wound near their hairline. They seemed utterly still at first, but after a moment Hero could see that their chest was shallowly rising and falling. Hero was so focused on their wellbeing that it took them half a minute to notice how Villain was looking down at the healer. They wore a strange, hungry smile, like a predator who had lured its prey into a perfect trap. 

Nervously, Hero wetted their dry lips. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Villain glanced at them and raised a sly brow. “Well, we don’t want the poor darling to die of smoke inhalation, do we?”

Beads of sweat were starting to run into Hero’s eyes. “No, where are you taking them, a hospital…?”

Villain laughed, a cold, spine-chilling sound. “Why, Hero, I haven’t known you to be so uncreative. No, I had something much more exciting in mind than a simple hospital.” 

Panic flared in Hero’s brain, sending a sharp wave of adrenaline through their exhausted body. “No. Please, no, don’t take them, Villain, you can’t do this, please-”

“Your reaction tells me this is an even better idea than I thought,” they said, amused. “Don’t worry, I certainly won’t harm them. They’re far too valuable for that. For their power and to you, of course.”

“You don’t have to hold them hostage to get to me,” Hero pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you want if you let them go, Villain, I swear. Medic has patients that need them, people will die without them!”

Villain rolled their eyes. “Such dramatics. I don’t need anything from you except to keep holding up that building until I leave. And I’m sure the agency hospital staff can manage. You worry too much, nemesis.” 

Another flare of anger surged through Hero. “You’re a supervillain, of course I’m fucking worried about you kidnapping my best friend-”

“Language, Hero,” Villain chided. “I’m flattered you think me so high a threat. But I assure you, your best friend will be perfectly fine. Now, I think your other friends will be showing up soon to relieve you, so I think we’ll be on our way.” “Wait!” Hero shouted, but Villain had already turned away. Both them and Medic disappeared into the shadows, leaving Hero alone, trapped, tears and sweat marking slow trails over their soot-covered skin as the building over them continued to burn into the night. 

Previous — Masterlist — Next

Aiden is fully prepared to suck. Hand-eye coordination is one of the slowest things to come back but he’s spent months coming to terms with it. In the grand scheme of things that could take a bite out of his pride at any given moment, the inability to aim a ball falls pretty low on the totem pole. 

What’s unexpected is that Noah is almost as bad. A fact that he vehemently refutes even in the face of increasing evidence. By the time they run out of a twenty’s worth of quarters, Noah’s irate and Aiden’s barely holding back laughter. 

I've been talking about this foreverrr (iykyk). So, without further ado...

Masterlist

“Take a deep breath for me.” 

Aiden focuses on the kitchen window over Noah’s shoulder. There’s a small stained glass iris hanging from the lock. On sunny days, it casts prisms all over Delia’s apartment. 

“One more,” Noah instructs. “This time…into your lungs.” 

“S-sorry.” He swallows, avoids looking at Noah while he’s wearing the stethoscope. It’s fine. This is fine. Aiden’s just used to Delia and hasn’t been with Noah for longer than five minutes since—

“Can I just—can I mmm, have…some water?” 

Noah steps back, draping the stethoscope around his neck with the ease of having done it a million times. “Sure.” 

Warming Up to You (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Be warned: kidnapping, gun threats

It had taken two weeks for the civilian to convince their brother, the hero, that they didn’t need to be watched over every single second of the day. The civilian doubted that the villain was so invested in their capture as to stake out their home for weeks at a time once more. The civilian had been an exceedingly annoyed hostage last time. Besides, they were a grown-up, they told their brother, and they could handle themselves.

Boy, did they feel stupid now.

It was the first night that their brother had left them alone in the safehouse, and it had taken a grand total of four hours for the civilian to find themselves on the other end of the villain’s gun. The pair were in the civilian’s bedroom. The civilian was in their pyjamas, sitting up under the covers. They had turned on the lamp next to their bed and put on their glasses at the sound of footsteps. The villain stood at the doorway, dressed in all black, gun in hand. It was pointed right at the civilian.

“Hi, there,” the civilian said in a croaky, sleep-soaked voice.

The villain gestured with their free hand. “You’re coming with me.”

“I had a feeling you would ask that.”

“It’s not a request.”

“You know what’s weird?” The civilian said, still not getting up. “Last time, it was your goons who did the legwork of kidnapping me. Like, did you find time in your calendar or…?”

The villain didn’t offer up an explanation for that. “Get your ass out of bed right now.”

The civilian sighed. “Fine. Now I’m going to be kidnapped and sleep-deprived. At least last time you kidnapped me during the day.”

They pulled off the covers and got to their feet. They stretched their arms out. It pulled up their pyjama shirt, and the exposed skin sent a shiver of cold down the civilian’s spine. The villain’s eyes snagged on the bare skin, as well. 

“It’s winter,” the civilian said. “I’m not going out into the snow like this.”

The villain didn’t say anything. The civilian couldn’t see them very well, but they guessed their kidnapper had been taken off-guard.

“So, I’m just going to change real quick,” the civilian said.

That snapped the villain out of it. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not letting myself get frostbite,” the civilian said.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” 

The civilian shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The civilian walked to the other side of the bed, where their clothes lay in a pile. They had rushed to grab things before their brother escorted them off to the safehouse several weeks prior, and had yet to unpack. They pulled thick jeans and a sweater from the multicoloured mass. The villain had trailed behind the civilian, and was now watching passively. Their eyes only dipped away when the civilian pulled their pyjama shirt over their head. The civilian took off their pyjamas and tossed them on the bed. They pulled the jeans over their waist and secured the button. Their eyes met the villain’s again. The villain was trying very hard to not let their gaze stray lower. The civilian held out their glasses, and the villain took them.

“Is this a distraction tactic?” the villain asked.

“Distraction tactic?” The civilian’s voice was laced with confusion. They pulled the sweater over their head. “It’s a my-kidnapper-won’t-leave-the-room tactic.”

They adjusted their sweater. Then they grabbed some thick socks and slipped them on their feet. They looked back up at the villain. “There we go. Glasses?” The villain passed them back. The civilian secured them. “Alright. Ready when you are.”

“You’re so weird,” the villain said.

Their face said that they had not totally meant to say that out loud.

“You burst into my room in the middle of the night with a gun,” the civilian said. “You win.”

“Come on, hands on your head,” the villain said. “Let’s go.”

The civilian sighed. “Fine. But just so you know, my brother is not going to like this.”

The villain gave a very convincing evil laugh. It sent a shiver down the hero’s spine. “Yeah. That’s kind of the point. Now start walking.”

The pair walked to the villain’s waiting van. The civilian complied as a bag was put over their head and their hands were tied. Before their vision was blocked, though, they got a close look at the villain’s gun. “Hey.”

The villain didn’t respond, and shoved the civilian into the back of the van. 

“Hey, listen,” the hero said again.

The villain sighed. “Have you ever stopped talking?”

“No. But I thought you should know you didn’t turn the safety off on your gun.”

There was silence for a moment. The civilian felt like a clock was ticking. Then the villain leaned forward and hissed into the civilian’s ear.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll chain you to the floor of your cell.”

The hero gulped. Then the villain was gone and the door slammed shut.

“You’re so dramatic!” The civilian yelled.

Part 1, Part 2

TW: Violence, blood, mild body horror

As an obligatory reminder, this story stems from a prompt that was given to both me and @the-modern-typewriter! She made an amazing novella out of it on her patreon!! I hope you'll enjoy my version as well :) Sorry it's taken me...literally a year to make a third part.

The gunfire was so deafening that it almost covered the screaming. Almost.

Before they’d even crossed the threshold to the outside, the shots were head-splitting enough to send Eloise scrambling to cover her ears. All she could see from their current vantage point was a sliver of the courtyard framed by blue sky. 

It was too friendly a blue, too ordinary and ideal, for such an ugly day.

Someone pushed past them out into the open, wielding fists of fireballs and a battle cry. In moments, they dropped to the ground. The fire snuffed itself out as blood spilled from the hole in his head.

Whimpering, Eloise backed away from the space in the outermost wall where someone had blown open an exit, all jagged edges and crumbling concrete. It resembled a too-wide jaw; a yawning mouth cracked open and baring its teeth.

Her mind flashed to Frenzy’s mouth, stretched impossibly until it tore, and shuddered.

A hand caught the back of her neck, gently enough. Eloise still jumped. Artisan made a soothing sound. “You can do this.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

She was already shaking her head, murmuring something incoherent and horrified.

“Eloise.” 

His voice, calm as it was, snatched up her attention like the crack of a whip. She stared up at him in what she could only imagine was some terrible parody of a doe-eyed fawn bathed in blinding headlights.

Artisan’s hand rose from her neck to cup the side of her jaw. Given what those hands could do, it shouldn’t have been so grounding; so reassuring. 

He held her gaze. “You’re going to get us past the guns alive. And I’m going to protect you. Hey-” A gentle stroke of the cheek dragged her wandering eyes back up to his. Haunting. Beautiful. Eyes of endless depths she’d caught watching her read to him on many occasions. “You can do this. Take a deep breath.”

Eloise heaved in a clumsy breath that gusted out of her in the same second. Artisan’s lips twitched upward.

“Slowly. Match me.” Still cradling her cheek, Artisan demonstrated an exaggerated deep breath, then another. Eloise copied him as best as she could manage until she felt a little lighter. “Good.”

Eloise swallowed. “What if my power fails?”

“It won’t.” Artisan took a step closer, and it stole her breath all over again. “Close your eyes.”

Eloise gawked. “Wh-”

“Eloise.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, hugging her arms around her torso.

When he spoke again, his voice was a quiet thing, low and soft yet resonant still with all the power of, well, one of the greatest supervillains alive.

“When you are reading a book,” he said, “everything else around you slips away. You lose yourself in a world of inked pages, and nothing else exists. I’ve watched you pore over chapter after chapter, reading aloud on autopilot. Sometimes you forget that I am even in the room with you. And I’m me.”

“I-”

“Go to that place now. Focus only on your ability. We are going to walk out that door, and you’re going to camouflage our presence. They’ll look past us. We’ll walk away safely. Picture it.”

She did. Eloise allowed herself to imagine wrapping the two of them in enough influence to trick others’ eyes into skipping over them, seeing them as ordinary and belonging as the bugs in the grass. She pictured safety and steaming showers and warm blankets on her worn-but-still comfy mattress. She thought of home and books in her thrifted armchair; of pages that smell antique and crisp and make just the right sound when you turn them. 

Eloise opened her eyes. The fear still buzzed in her chest, but the world felt less like it was about to collapse.

Artisan gave a slight nod at whatever he saw on her face. “Good girl. Let’s go.”

In what felt both like an instant and an eternity, they were outside. Artisan kept a hand on Eloise’s shoulder to steady her forward, murmuring encouragements and instructions beside her.

Eloise tried to narrow her focus to just the two of them, willing the landscape to swallow them up into imperceivable specks of dust. They took two strides, three.

There were bodies everywhere.

Villains, even guards clamoring for escape, were mowed down. Snipers lined the roof, the watchtowers… A glance around revealed more on every side. They continued to creep forward with bated breath, dodging carnage with every new step.

Eloise’s toe caught on the leg of a corpse, and she squeaked, jerking away. 

Artisan grabbed her arm, pulling her close again. She could feel the perception barrier around them flickering. 

“Relax. Focus.” He said it like it was nothing. Like they weren’t staring down a firing squad, navigating a labyrinth of corpses and blood. “Close your eyes for me.”

The thought of being blind in the belly of so much danger made an embarrassing sound catch in her throat. 

“You’re distracted by what you see,” Artisan continued. “Close your eyes. Focus all of your attention on masking us. I will guide you. Eloise- I will protect you if you help me. I need your help.”

I need your help. 

The plea was simple, a disguise of its own, but it settled between her ribs all the same. Her eyes pressed closed. She concentrated on blending in. On protecting them both.

They were moving again. Artisan’s hands on her arms led her forward, weaving through the devastation with surprising grace. Despite his smooth guidance, she felt clumsy and staggering. If she tripped over another body… Her stomach squeezed.

Someone screamed. Eloise’s gaze snapped to them as she found herself clinging to Artisan’s side. The source of the shouting dropped to his knees, hands behind his head–a security guard from inside–leaking red from his side. “Please, it’s Mallard! It’s Mallard! I work here, I’m on your side! Please, help me, help–”

He dropped like a stone. Blood trickled down his forehead.

Eloise choked on words that wouldn’t come. The world seemed to tilt, fuzzy at the edges.

“Eloise-” Artisan’s voice seemed very far away.

She was only distantly aware of more gunfire as Artisan pushed in front of her.

Artisan hissed through his teeth, clutching his chest. He staggered back a step, a jarring contrast to his usual bird-like elegance. Eloise stared, horrified. 

“Cover us, cover us now,” he said, his tone bleeding with urgency.

“Are you-”

“Now, Eloise!”

His tone spiked fresh fear up her spine, and Eloise closed her eyes, covering her ears as she pictured the two of them fading into the landscape with the same ease as a smudge in a watercolor painting. The veil slid thinly into place, fragile, like stretched skin. Eloise trembled with effort.

At the same time, Artisan jerked her to the side as another barrage of bullets chased them.

Eloise squealed, bearing down on her focus as if sinking her teeth in.

“I’m trying!” she snapped, just in case it wasn’t obvious. Just in case the effort mattered at all.

“You can do more than you think you can,” Artisan said. “I can feel it in you. You can do more than affect just us. You can affect them. You can change what they see; how they see us. Reach out in your mind. Change their perception.”

She imagined her power stretching in all directions, each line a stream in a spider’s web. She tapped gently at the windows of each guard’s mind and left a new idea there, coaxing them to forget what they’d seen. To move past it. To completely disregard the villain and his volunteer accomplice.

The shooting slowed, then stopped. The concentration left her dizzy and wobbling, sinking her to her knees on the ground.

She only opened her eyes when Artisan scooped her into his arms.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, walking on with her, “You’re doing beautifully.”

She stared at the hole in his chest, jumpsuit soaked through with blood. “You’re hurt- You should be dead.” Dumbly, too boldly, she pressed a hand over the wound. She’d blame the fatigue.

“Dead?” He clicked his tongue. “Not so easily done.”

She could feel the skin and muscle beneath her hand shifting, warping, weaving back together. Relief flooded her. “Oh.”

“Oh.” Artisan was smiling again. “Don’t lose your focus. We’re nearly there. You might not want to look.”

As they neared the final gate, the guards began to drop one by one. Eyes glazed over, necks twisted and wrenched out of place. Moving as if puppeteered, the last one standing buzzed open the gate, finally leaning into the fence’s barbed wire to cut through his own throat. The blood gurgling out was quiet as he, too, fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Eloise really wished she’d looked away. Her insides heaved.

The strain of keeping them unnoticed tugged at her every nerve ending with a plea for relief. She’d never pushed herself so hard before. Her vision hazed in a dark vignette.

“You didn’t have to kill them,” she said softly, closing her eyes. Her head felt cracked in two. “I wish you hadn’t.”

Just a little farther and she could let go…

Artisan stroked back her hair, carrying her through the open gate out into freedom. His voice was something silken and velvet, something wicked and monstrous. She could feel the smile there. “Oh, sweetheart, but I wanted to.”

She finally blacked out.

Part 1

“Drink this,” Villain said, handing Hero a cup of tea.

“Thanks,” Hero mumbled, voice sore and eyes tired as they breathed in the warmth.

“Do we need to have a talk about hiding injuries?” Villain asked whilst the bath was still running.

“No,” Hero assured.

“Good. Then I’ll ask: do you have any serious injuries that need looking at before I leave you alone for however long it takes you to have a bath?” Villain gave Hero a pointed look.

“I do not.”

“Because I have a first aid kit,” Villain pressed. “And a doctor on call who’s very discreet.”

“I promise the worst that I got is probably just some heavy bruising,” Hero smiled reassuringly.

Villain was most assuredly not reassured.

“Sorry,” Hero said sheepishly. “I was aiming for light-hearted, but I guess I failed.”

“It’s hard to pull off when you look like that and sound like you’re two seconds away from crying again.”

Hero looked down at their mug, hair falling over their eyes.

“Who did this to you?” Villain asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t. But I’m sure you’d rather get this part over and done with than let it continue weighing on you.”

Hero said nothing. Continuing to avoid eye contact with Villain.

“I’ll find out either way of course,” Villain said casually, which suddenly got Hero’s attention. “But if you spare me the trouble, I may take into account your opinion on how they’re dealt with.”

“You can’t kill him.”

“Killing him will be the least of his concerns,” Villain smiled, mentally noting Hero referred to their attacker as ‘he’.

Hero tried to stand, ready to protest or argue or something they hadn’t completely thought through, but they flinched at the first movement as pain wracked their body, hot tea spilling against their hand and onto their lap.

“Don’t be silly, sit down,” Villain tutted, taking the mug from Hero and using a tea towel to dry them off. Thankfully the tea wasn’t boiling. Villain looked up and their eyes met with Hero’s bloodshot ones, still as on the verge of tears as they had been when they picked them up. Their face was fine for the most part: slight graze on the side of their forehead and a split lip. Villain could tell by how reluctant Hero was to show them that the worse wounds were where they couldn’t see. “He’d deserve it, you know.”

Hero bit their lip as they tried to think of a solution or some way to convince Villain not to seek vengeance on their account. Their mind came up annoyingly blank however as their aching body kept dragging their thoughts back to the alley.

“Can I have time to think it through?” Hero asked in a desperate attempt to stall for time until their brain finally cooperated.

Villain considered them for a moment.

“No,” they answered. “Tell me now, or I’ll find another means.”

Hero’s heart sank.

“This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” Villain answered gently. “I’m not a good person, darling. But you knew this when you called me. Just like you knew I would do everything in my power to protect you and that includes dealing with the scum that dared to lay a finger on you.”

Hero curled into themselves more and Villain knew they were pushing them, but they couldn’t stop themselves. A rage burned inside them that begged to be sated. Hero wasn’t safe- couldn’t be safe whilst there was someone out there who thought they could do this to them and get away with it. And if they did it once, they would do it again, and again, and again-

“You can’t fight him,” Hero muttered as they aggressively rubbed away tears. Their voice so quiet it was a wonder how it managed to cut through Villain’s thoughts.

Villain picked Hero up gently in their arms, shifting the two of them around so that Villain sat in the armchair with Hero curled up into their lap, holding them and rubbing their back, waiting for the sobbing to stop. In this position, Villain’s eyes landed on the small box of belongings Hero had left beside the door. It was a ridiculously small amount of things that Villain was sure couldn’t possibly be everything they owned. However, feeling Hero’s small frame hiding beneath their clothes, Villain did begin to worry that was the case.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Villain asked, a puzzle beginning to form and slowly solve itself in their head.

Hero nodded against Villain’s chest.

“And you’re asking me? What about friends or family?”

Hero shook their head.

“Friends kicked me out,” they muttered. “Haven’t got any family.”

“What about your team? Don’t you guys have a headquarters or something you can stay at?”

Hero stiffened, and the last of the puzzle pieces fell together. Because at the end of the day, Hero didn’t just call Villain for help. Villain asked Hero to join them, and Hero finally said yes.

“Oh, I’m going to kill them,” Villain hissed, holding Hero tighter.

“Don’t,” Hero said, fists clenching against Villain’s shirt.

“Not today,” Villain assured. “I’m not leaving you now, don’t worry.”

“Don’t fight them. Please.”

“That depends. Were all of them involved or was it just one specific person?” Villain asked, knowing the answer. Hero said nothing and Villain sighed. “Give me a name, darling. Let me focus my rage on one person and I won’t go digging to see if anyone else is worthy of it.”

“I don’t want you to hurt people because of me.”

Villain lifted Hero’s chin so they could look them in the eyes.

“Him getting hurt will be the consequence of his actions, not yours,” Villain said, desperately wanting Hero to understand. “You are not to blame for any of this.”

Hero went silent for a while and Villain let them; unsure whether Hero was thinking things over or decided to be stubborn. Either way, Villain held them close until the bath had finished filling.

They found a singular set of spare clothes amongst Hero’s things that didn’t look comfy at all and decided to grab a set of their own for them to wear. They led Hero to the bathroom and pointed out where everything was before leaving them to it.

“…Mentor,” Hero mumbled as Villain was about to shut the door. They looked back to see Hero facing away from them and towards the floor. “It was Mentor that- we had an argument and I…” Hero took a deep breath, and the weight on their shoulders seemed a little lighter. “I put myself first for once.”

Hero turned to Villain, a big grin on their tear-stained face.

“Felt good.”

Le general tagliste: Dear god, there's more of you! @whumplicity, @doctorsawyer, @stupidlypurplemist, @neon-kazoo, @elfwhump, @imgoingtobiteyounow, @chaotic-orphan, @jumpywhumpywriter, @hymnusadbacchum, @atomicduckthefirst

I had this in the drafts ever since Toothache as an immediate follow-up and it turned out to be perfect for filling this ask.

Masterlist 

cw: noncon drugging, needle mention, restraints, harrison going too far

He falls asleep wondering what Harrison did with the time freed up by leaving early. With all the hours spent on his ‘extra-curriculars’, does he have to play catch up at work or does his flagrant disregard for rules mean he’d just go home? He has to be pulling his weight at his day job, he’d never risk his basement side hustle. 

It’s difficult to picture Harrison anywhere else. In kindergarten, his class mailed around Flat Stanley over the summer. Everyone took pictures of the laminated cut-out at various summer destinations. Theme parks and campgrounds, stretches of sand on the coastline. His photo was from the end of his cul-de-sac. 

Harrison feels almost the same. He can only picture him in his scrubs and lab coat, which just looks ridiculous superimposed into a grocery store. Pushing a cart full of…what? He’s never seen him eat. Coffee is the only certainty. Can’t picture him at a gas station pumping gas. What kind of car does he drive? He must have awful road rage. Does he keep his gloves on to pump gas? It all looks wrong. Beyond that, it gets even harder. How does he talk to other people? Can strangers tell there’s something off about him? Is Harrison’s apartment also sterile and impersonal? Is he just humanizing the monster that cuts him open every day? 

First | Last | Next

The invisible force holding the door open grew and forced the door wide. Kira didn't wait for what would happen next. She turned and ran.

She was just past the threshold of her kitchen when her body was forced to a stop. It felt like she had been enveloped by an invisible blanket. She had put herself in a blanket burrito before to help soothe her anxiety. This time it provided no comfort.

"No no no no." She sputtered before realizing she still had her voice. "HEL-"

Wraith's hand covered her mouth, silencing her before she could fully release the cry.

"Shhh," he cooed as he stroked her hair. "Shhh. I'm not here to hurt you."

Kira didn't believe them. Why else would he be here? What other reason would he have to attack her in her home?

"Hey, hey." Wraith moved his hand from her mouth and stroked the tears from her cheeks.

"I did what you said. I didn't tell Sentinel anything. I didn't tell anyone." She shook her head, trying to get his hands off of her. It wasn't comforting. It just increased the trapped feeling. A worm on a string that he could do what he wanted with.

"I know." Wraith smiled. "You did wonderfully."

"Then why? Why are you here?"

The smile left Wraith's face and returned to the professionally stern look Kira had seen often during her time with him. "Let's talk."

He dropped his hand from Kira's face and started moving towards the living room.

Wraith seemed comfortable in the space. Like he knew its layout from visiting previously. Kira realized with growing horror that he probably had.

Kira yelped when she was suddenly moved forward. The invisible blanket stayed around her as it moved her deeper into her apartment and towards her couch.

Once she was seated, the invisible blanket released her, but it didn’t fully abate. She could feel its pressure hovering just above her skin. A sensation that lead her to believe that if she tried to move, it would smoother her into the couch in return.

Wraith took a seat on the coffee table across from her.

"I'm sorry that your involvement in," he looked around briefly, "all of this, did not end when you returned as I promised. Sentinel did not loose interest as I expected him to. I suspect he enjoys being needed by you."

Kira shook her head. "I don't need him."

Well, maybe she did in this moment. Maybe she was looking for the opportunity to summon him with the press of her emergency button. Being home today, with what she thought would be no risk to her safety, she had left it on her nightstand. She could feel its absence burning a hole in her pocket.

But that didn't mean that, in general, she needed him.

Wraith's eyebrows rose as if he knew exactly what Kira was thinking.

"He comes here regularly to check in on you. He showed up that day at the store." Wraith looked Kira over. "I see that you don't have the emergency button on you at the moment. Noted."

Kira ignored his comment on the distress signal. "He comes because he's hoping I'll have more information to share with him."

Wraith hummed. "And it couldn't be a 'good guy' hoping to get his in?"

That threw Kira. She had no interest in Sentinel, as a friend or romantically. She was polite to him because she needed to be. She entertained his visits because she had to. So she could convince him she didn't know anything. She called him that day because in her panic that was the only option to get out.

"He's a hero doing his job."

"I didn't realize stalking was part of the hero job description."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's been following you. Since the moment you were returned. Every time you have left your apartment he has followed you. Far enough that you don't spot him but he's been there. That's how he was there that day at the store."

"No." Kira responded without thinking. "I pushed the emergency button that day. Fight or flight kicked in."

"Is that what he told you? Do you remember actually using that button?"

She... she must have. The distress signal brought him to the store. Why else would he... what reason would he have to lie?

If he was actually stalking you and didn't want you to know, a voice in Kira's head quipped.

She shushed that voice with a point of her own. "It sounds to me like you are the stalker."

"My men have been keeping tabs on Sentinel, which resulted in me keeping tabs on you as well. Outside of the first week after your release, my men weren't tasked with following you."

Kira studied Wraith. She obviously knew that he was a villain. Villains needed to be good liars by nature. For whatever reason, Kira's gut told her that he was being honest.

"What's your problem with Sentinel?" Wraith's eyes zeroed in on her.

Kira continued quickly, "I mean besides you two being arch enemies?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I'm not stupid. I know you two have some sort of history."

"You're a smart woman, Kira. You and I know that knowledge would come at a steep price." He studied her for a moment before continuing. "Are you interested in paying that price?"

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