here we go again

making a master list so that i continue to be motivated to add on to it with more variety! pls enjoy and thank u for the love!

Requests always welcomed !!

Snippits

hero; never learned how to drive - villain teaches hero how to drive

in which villain partakes in academia (domestic h/v) - villain is writing a thesis and hero helps out with chores

hero's new date (jealousy?) (tw injuries) - hero gets back from a terrible date and guess who's there waiting for her

untitled hero/villain prompt fill (domestic h/v) (tw crying baby) - "the villain finds the hero... he discovers the hero in a stained robe....and a non-stop crying baby. The only thing the hero says is, 'My wife left me.'"

father, like daughter (domestic h/v) - villain's daughter and villain have a screaming contest, hero plays jury

not in love (angst) (cw a lil suggestive) - hero an villain are "in love"

god tier seduction (suggestive?? toxic) - hero and villain are egotistical, pls notice my symbolism

medical malpractice (whump-ish, injuries) part two! - villain is a healer, and the hero might take too long to come back and fight them

i pledge allegiance to dumb blondes part two! - villain is serving time at a military camp, hero pays a visit

i'ma leave the window ooooopeeen - a cute and plotless sapphic story where the villain visits the hero's place

glasses ask ! - the villain accidently breaks the hero's glasses

"what if you regret it when you're older?" - the hero wants a tattoo, the villain is happy to offer his services

your mom - hero is dead, her daughter goes to villain for help

unscheduled comfort - villain is tardy, the hero doesn't appreciate it. neither does his wife.

is it hot in here or is it just you? new! - hero is hot and villain is very much cold. golly, i wonder what will happen next !

Series

hero's new management 1 2 3 - hero quits and goes to villain, villain is not happy about it (angst, misunderstanding)

hero vs domesticity 1 2 3 4 - hero quits and goes to villain, except this time he's happy- also its christmas (fluffy)

breaking generation trauma 1 2 - hero saves a baby and asks villain for help to raise her

Prompts

prompt 1

prompt 2

hi all, its me. im back and i miss writing. i stopped writing a while ago just due to moving on to different things and interests but trust me i am still in the building !!!! that being said,,, i want to write for u all :)

pls send me asks or dms !! ill write most things, im thinking 500 ish words or so about whatever topic you'd like. fanfiction is a go too, just depends if i know it (don't be afraid, ask!!), need help with ur paper?? I'm ur girl!!! want to finish a prompt?? yessir

looking forward to this, i want to get better and out of my comfort zone !!!!

(this may or may not be my rebellion against the evil chat gpt,,,,let me write instead, u cowards)

lots of love and in anticipation,

“It’s so nice.” The hero’s voice sounded robotic against the fan blades. “So nice.” 

She was kneeling in front of an oscillating fan and moving with it as it rotated back and forth, letting her hair tangle as it moved uncontrollably in the artificial breeze. Despite the air conditioning and lack of decent clothes, there was a shiny sheen of sweat on her body and bright red flush on her cheeks. The villain’s stare couldn’t help but wander to her bare shoulders and sliver of tummy under her top; why the appearance of a woman in shorts and a tank top gave him the reaction of seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time in the eighteenth century- he wasn’t sure. 

“You’ll dry up if you don’t give that a break.” Truthfully, the villain was getting chilly with every fan in his apartment on and at full speed, “That and you’ll be paying for my electricity bill.” 

“My apartment doesn’t have air conditioning and I can’t afford a fan,” the hero spared him a glance. “What makes you think I can pay a bill?” 

The villain's eyebrow quizzed, “Heroism not paying well?” 

“I’m wealthy in applause and honour.” she shuffled left to follow the fan. “Besides, this is you making it up to me after breaking my wrist last month.” 

The villain’s lip quirked. “Right. Oops.” 

The villain took a seat on his couch near the hero and her designated cooling nest. The floor was strewn with water bottles, ice-filled thermoses and damp towels the hero would rotate through in attempts to get relief from the heat. 

“You’d think having fire powers would make you immune to heat. You could be fighting monsters with the power of a million suns” 

“I know. I swear I’m being pranked by some celestial force. I’m immune to my heat- but the sun’s evil 40 degree weather feels like I’m in a preheating oven” The hero groaned with frustration, running a hand through her hair. “It’s so hot! Can’t you turn me into an ice cube or something?” 

The villain’s ice power complimented the hero very well. Maybe too well, this wasn’t the first time they were in this situation. 

“You know you’ll melt it, Hero.” 

“Can you… freeze the apartment?” she suggested timidly, knowing the answer he’d give her.

“Yes, Hero. I’ll freeze my entire apartment so you can stay cool.” 

“Come on!” She’s splayed out on the floor now, Villain cursed the way her shorts rode up. “Do me this one favour. Please!” 

“I think you misunderstand what one favour is.” He gestured to her cooling nest. 

“Can’t you use your powers or something? Villain, I’m literally burning up. Please.” The villain didn’t doubt it. He wasn’t sure what would happen if she overheated, he assumed being overheated was the norm for her. The hero stared hopefully at him, and the villain knew exactly what she wanted, what she had wanted everytime a heatwave made its way to their city, why she had come here in the first place. Dejected, he started taking off his shirt. 

“I should get paid for this.” He mumbled, the hero quickly made her way over to sit on the couch beside him, a large smile on her face. “You’re shameless.” 

“I’m desperate, Frosty.” She inched closer. “I promise I won’t interrupt your heists for a week.” 

The villain extended his arms, inviting the hero. “A month.” 

As if the act were the most natural thing in the world, the hero jumped on his lap, swinging her legs to his side. The villain automatically (much to his own surprise) wrapped his arms around her, as if preparing to bridal-carry her to the North Pole. Her arms wrapped around his neck, leaning her head in the crook of his neck and comfortably setting herself in place. 

“This is demeaning.” The villain said readjusting her for both their comfort, awakening his power to a satisfactory chill. He could feel the hero’s body temperature immediately cooling, he could have sworn he saw steam. 

“No,” she cuddled closer, “this is nice. So nice.” 

Hero’s schedule has found itself to be very full. She’s asked for a total of a week in extensions, called to be covered at work four times this month, meticulously rationed her four hours of sleep and finally, organized her crime fighting into appointments. And so, it’s safe to say that when the villain had missed his appointment- she was upset. 

Every other villain in the city has been completely uncooperative on the shared calendar the hero had sent out, but the villain was always in time and at their planned locations. She had started to look forward to the only consistent thing in her life. 

She shrugged on her old, tattered jacket. It’s gonna rain. Great. She looked at her phone and tapped her foot impatiently. 

Five minutes passed. 

Ten minutes. 

Fifteen minutes. 

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes late. 

“Thirty minutes late!” She screamed into the pay phone, searching her pockets for more quarters. “You are thirty minutes late! At this point I won’t make it to work and I’ll get fired and I won’t be able to pay for school and I’ll die homeless!” 

“Can you- argh- can’t we postpone?” The rain pattering rhythmically on the phone box made the villain’s voice sound staticy and muffled.  

“That isn’t the point! The point is no one listens to me and I’m trying my best here! Besides, my schedule is so overfilled that next week I’m going to have to prepare a presentation during my lunch break at work!” She glanced at the broken screen on her phone. “I’m gonna be late to work because of you and I can’t get fired because being a hero pays in applause and bruises. I can’t pay my bills with fan letters, Villain!” 

“Hero- now is not the time-” The villain’s voice stopped mid sentence and the hero could hear the slight murmur of a voice on the other line. The hero held the phone closer after putting in two more quarters. 

“Who is that?” she asked in between the murmurs. 

“I- Can you shut up for a second” the hero started at the phone in disgust. The phone was muffled by something so that only the villain’s voice was clear. 

“What? No. No way. She can wait… No, this was planned… So what if I double booked… I don’t… You’re joking… Dear Lord, fine!” 

The hero tried to make sense of the betrayal currently taking place. The villain was having some sort of disagreement with the mystery person- and they had lost. Whoever the mystery person was- they were able to overpower the villain in an argument. They had the hero’s respect… and fear. 

The villain’s clear voice through the phone made her stand up straighter. “Are you in the usual place?” The villain was curt, annoyed. 

“Oh. Uh, ya. Are you coming?” The hero heard the villain’s scoff before the line went dead with two more minutes. Waste of two quarters. 

The hero hung the phone on the receiver and stared out onto the rain flooding the streets. The lights reflected on the pavement almost looked pretty, but they quickly blurred into ugly splotches as the hero tried to blink away the wet from her eyes. She hadn’t noticed when she started crying or how long she had been motionless in the phone box. A salty tear reached the edge of her lips and the cold and tiredness dawned on her. 

She reached into one of the thirty pockets her windbreaker had and pulled out her phone. 

13%. An hour and a half till my shift starts. I can fight the villain for twenty minutes and if I leave right after I’ll make it to work about 45 minutes late, and I can work on my paper on the train- oh wait. I can’t. My phone is basically dead. Cool. 

A knock on the phone box startled her into a sobering alertness. She quickly wiped her tears, wrapped her jacket closer to herself and opened the door, muttering a “sorry” before b-lineing towards an alleyway. 

“Hold on, Hero.” A hand found itself on her shoulder. Villain. The fear was delayed. There was no way she’d be able to fight him in the state. Her joints were locking, she couldn’t feel her fingers, and her nose was all snotty. This was it. Goodbye cruel world. 

“You-” Her body seemed to work on autopilot as it turned to face the villain. She found herself in a defensive position, ready to take a hit. Until her eyes caught what the villain was wearing. The tips of his leather shoes were shiny from the rain,  he was wearing a pair black slacks that elegantly hit right at his ankles. He couldn’t see his presumably also impeccable shirt due to the cozy and warm coat he had on. Black, warm cashmere that hit right almost to his knees. The hero thought for a second that maybe theft wasn’t a bad idea. She could use that coat as a blanket. Or sell the buttons and buy a house. The possibilities are endless. “-aren’t even ready! Where is your suit?” She finished. 

The villain rolled his eyes. Pushing his hair to the back with his free hand. The other hand rested an umbrella against his shoulder, keeping his dry. I could sell the umbrella and buy a car, she thought. “Neither are you, do you think you can fight me in jeans and- are you ok?” 

“I’m fine, thank you very much. It’s raining. Can we get this over with?” She answered, not bothering to wipe away the snot from her nose. 

The villain stared at her for a second, the hero knew the villain knew she was probably crying. But she couldn’t be bothered to care. She wanted to finish this and get to her shift, and then to her tiny room and tinier bed in her three bedroom-five roommate apartment. 

“Right. We’re not fighting today.” The villain turned away, the hero hadn’t noticed the umbrella was above her head until the villain began walking towards the curb. 

‘What do you mean we’re not fighting! We-”

From the distance they heard the honk from a stalling car by the road. Inside it was a woman yelling in their direction. In the dark, all that Hero could make out was the faint silhouette of brown Hollywood curls and the sparkle reflecting off shiny jewelry. The woman yelled at them. 

“She’s soaked! Give her the umbrella!” 

The villain sighed, walking back to the hero and handing her the umbrella. All the hero could do was accept it and watch the villain walk away. Then turn back. And then walk back. 

“Can we please get going? We’re already late.” 

“Huh? Late to what? What’s going on?” Perhaps it was the tiredness or confusion or fear of the mystery person in the car that let the hero be directed by the villain towards the car. 

“I have an ultrasound appointment. We’re going.” 

The hero could only laugh humorlessly as they approached the car- completely numb. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.” They reached the car where, from the passenger’s seat, a beautiful woman was beaming at the hero. “My wife is.” 

The woman held out a hand through the open car window. “I’m belle! I’m so sorry, my husband booked your flight and my ultrasound at the same time, we’re running late but I promise we’ll drive you anywhere you want after the appointment!” The hero couldn’t find it in herself to not shake the beautiful woman’s hand. 

Belle’s voice was the same one the hero tried to put on when she was on television or doing an interview that ‘needed to inspire hope in the hearts of the citizens.’ Except Belles’ came naturally, a joyous and light voice that warmed the hero right up. The hero could only do a nervous and shaky version of it, though. 

“Gosh, you’re much younger than I thought you’d be.” Belle added, with a rather pointed look at the villain- her husband. 

The hero often found pride in herself by knowing what to say. From cheeky one-liners to perfectly crafted emails. But now, in the cold, villain’s hand on her shoulder, and the warmth radiating off this woman, she was disoriented and all she could think to say was; 

“You’re making another one of him?” Belle laughed, the hero was practically sweating. “Villain- wha-” 

“Get in the car, bootlicker.” 

“Honey, don’t be mean!” 

“Get in the car, oh holy and gracious hero.” 

“Honey…” 

Being seated in the back seat of Villain’s car was sobering, Hero could care less if she was about to be killed. Perhaps they honorably discharge her from her burger flipping job once they’d find out. 

“By the way, I’m a huge fan! And I’m so sorry that you’re being forced to fight my husband. I swear I thought you two were about the same age.” 

“Thanks, I appreciate your support.” Said the hero automatically. “Um. No, we’re like 20 years apart.” 

“I’m 31, hero.” Said the villain, turning the keys into the ignition.

“Sure.” 

Belle laughed. “Awe, so you’re so charming! I’ll make sure Villain takes it easier on you, honey. Oh! Here, please have a tissue. It’s cold out isn’t it. Villain, take off your coat to give it to the hero-” 

Belle continued talking and as much as the hero wanted to ask a million questions, the evening had become dark and the passing cars hypnotized into a soothing sleep she wasn’t able to fight. 

The last bit she heard before her head hit the window comfortably was Belle speaking to the Villain. 

“Awe, look she’s sleeping. She must be exhausted.” 

“I’m not sure where she lives- to drop her off. Can you wake her up?” 

“Oh, absolutely not. Poor girl, she's so young. I can’t believe this is your nemesis. She’s barely out of highschool. Let’s take her home, she can stay in the guest room. Just for a while. Awe, she’s adorable.” 

“Love, she gave me a black eye last month.”

“Adorable.”  

And it all went dark and peaceful and warm.

HI ALL!!

it was brought to my attention by my sister (lmao) that my recent post (your mom) is similar to @villainousauthor 's story (this amazing snippet!!!).

this was completely unintentional and i apologize!!! even though it was by accident, credit must go to where credit is due! pls go read it, its veeeery good and give them lots and lots of love!! :)

sorry again, love u all.

please read!!!

The villain’s first thought took him by surprise. 

Those are her eyes. 

The child must have been one or two years away from high school, and yet her round cheeks and the way she played with the hem of her sleeves could have said otherwise. The villain didn’t recognize where the young girl’s dark brown hair or freckles came from- surely the hero didn’t have freckles? Did she? A surge of panic ran through the villain as the features of the hero’s face became warped and foggy in his mind.

“Absolutely not.” He said. The child pouted in response, flashing him a weak and pathetic mockery of the hero’s puppy eyes. 

That’s her face, you faker. 

“This isn’t fair.” 

“Nothing is fair. Go home.” 

The villain had noticed someone was tailing him recently, he had assumed some amateur journalist or paparazzi (no difference, really) was the culprit before she made herself known by sneaking in with his cleaning crew into his office. Hero’s daughter was kept as a strict secret, as far as he knew only himself and the child’s late grandmother knew about her.  

“You have to help me.”

“And why’s that?” It was getting harder and harder to be civil with the trespassing child. 

“Mom said you’d help me!” 

The villain’s neck was beginning to strain looking down at her. 

“The hero was an optimist. She saw and felt things that were never there. Any sense of camaraderie you think we had didn’t ever exist.” He didn’t mean to sneer, it simply came out that way.  

The child laughed, a sarcastic, exhausted thing. She sounded like her too. 

“You would have never known about me if that were true.” 

“She could never keep a secret. Always jumpy. It took less than lazy observation to know.” 

The villain, in fact, knew from the moment she was born. He was there. The hero had been conveniently taken hostage by the villain for five months right when she started showing and three months after for recovery, he hadn’t seen the child since. The villain wouldn’t ever admit it, but they were eight months of pure bliss. The hero’s pregnancy was pleasant, she handled it very well up until her last month when she needed the villain for every menial task. After abandoning her abusive diet and workout schedule she finally gained some healthy weight (although lost most of it a month into heroism) and began to sleep a much needed eight hours a night. For the first time since they met, she went back to being a shiny and sparkling thing, all smiles and rosy cheeks, pure indulgence and excitement. 

The villain almost caught himself smiling at the memories before his gaze focussed back on the tiny monster in his office.

“Go home.”

“I can’t.” She said, copying his own demanding tone; slight pauses between words, emphasis on the important parts. “I have nowhere to go, the house was taken over by some people wanting to make it some messed up Hero museum. Grandma passed away, no one even knows I exist, and there is no way in hell I’m going back to the orphanage” She rummaged through the duffle at her side, the villain assumed it contained everything she owned. She pulled out a beige card with the hero’s writing in blue ink. 

As the villain read, the child blabbered. 

“You guys were friends, and I don’t believe you killed her like the news says. Mom talked about you all the time! She mentioned that she trusted you over and over again. You have to help me!” 

The villain couldn’t tell who the card was addressed to. It wasn’t signed to anyone and spoke ambiguously about love and trust and other disgusting things, the girl had assumed the card was supposed to be for him. The villain, albeit embarrassingly, wanted to believe that. 

“This isn’t for me.” 

“Of course it was!” 

“She’d never speak like this. Especially to me.” 

“Well I certainly have no use for it. My mom loved me. I don’t need a lousy card to know it. She knew that too. But I don’t think she was brave enough to ever tell you-”

“You shouldn’t speak about things you know nothing about.” This, he hoped, was laced with venom. 

“I dunno Mr. Doom and Gloom, you didn’t have to hear her go on and on about a secret crush she had rooftop fights with.” 

Dear lord, Hero. I don’t know whether to be angry at you for not saying something, or at myself for never noticing. 

He recognized how immature and childish his hope was. The only woman he’d ever loved was dead, and hearing now they had the illusion of a chance from her very own daughter was a worse heartbreak than if she just rejected him outright. 

They always had a weird relationship. A complex, fluttering thing that consisted of fistfights (regardless of powers; the villain considered it intimate, the hero considered it sexy), partnerships of planning and scheming, and being public representations of compliance and deviancy, the good and the dirty, love and hate. 

Somewhere along the line it had become late nights at diners, comfort in close proximity, a head on a shoulder, a hand on the back. The flirting, the teasing, the stares. The all-holy casual hookups.

The villain knew he was screwed when she came to his apartment late at night, drenched by the rain, mascara running down her cheeks. 

Villain, I need your help. I’m pregnant. 

The timing revealed Hero’s fling, it had been months after a fight that led them to ‘strict fighting terms’ it all broke down as fast as hero did in the villain’s arms. 

But she was gone now, buried in a government cemetery surrounded by hundreds of now wilting bouquets and dusty gifts. And yet, the innocent joy of reciprocation flushed through his body. He allowed himself one more denial. Just to be safe. 

“Perhaps it was for your father.” The child laughed at this, more genuine amusement than it was self deprecating, the villain didn’t blame her. He knew from the second he said it how stupid it sounded. 

“Good one. Anyways. Help me kill Supervillain.” 

Dejectedly, the villain plopped down at his desk chair, signalling the young girl to do the same on the chair across the desk. The girl happily obliged. “Here’s what I’m thinking, we disguise ourselves as post office men-”

“Wait wait wait. Be quiet for five seconds.” The villain found himself massaging his temples. “Your mother wanted one thing for you. And that explicitly included staying out of the business. I’ll get you a room with someone I trust. Lie low for now, I’ll send you off to a boarding school or something until you turn eighteen.” 

“What? No! I want to help you bring down the supervillain.” 

“Trust me, I can do that myself. You need to go back to the orphanage.” 

“I hate it there! I have things to do! I need to avenge my mom and that means killing the supervillain myself.” 

The villain was beginning to wonder if the child was a clone rather than a daughter. Perhaps the brown hair was just box dye. She had an edge she’d only seen in his hero, a bright star deep in the colour of her eyes, an unmatched amount of life inside her. The hero had passed away a little over two months ago and her daughter was immediately on the run. She must have known how important it was to stay hidden. When was the last time she had a full sleep? 

“Look, Lily, I get it. But your mother will rise from her grave if she knew I got you hurt.” The villain ignored the shock on the girl’s face at the mention of her name. 

Your mom wouldn’t stop talking about me, well I guess we were on the same boat then. 

"Even better, I think." She joked. Of course only your daughter would joke at a time like this.

“You need time. You need to rest. I can offer you safety. I can promise you that when the time comes to kill Supervillain, it’ll be done as far away from you as possible. Your mother would never forgive you if you ever even touched the handle of a gun. Please, at least give her that.” 

Lily was her mother’s spitting image. Her curls didn’t hold without product, her big brown eyes hid underneath long lashes. Her cheeks would stay round well into adulthood, and they both picked nervously at their nails. But when she finally lifted her head and her eyes met the villain’s eyes, he swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them. 

“Make it slow.” 

The villain smiled. 

hsjdh

(also can you tag me if you do so I can see it?)

@wacko-weirdo sorry it took like a million years,,,, i had no idea what to write LOL , this one is for u my liege

i pledge allegiance to dumb blondes (2!)

part 1!

The villain didn’t know why he thought this would be easy. The hero was loud and attracted a lot of attention, not only to themself but to the villain as well. They would insist on keeping the other soldiers occupied with card games and nightcaps that kept them dizzy till morning which resulted in ten extra laps around the base during morning drills. 

They complained about broken nails, needed 15 minutes to do their hair, insisted on a private bathroom and argued with authoritative figures, but worst of all, they seemed to take a liking to the villain. They had gotten comfortable far too quickly. Though they never had the pleasure of fighting each other on the field, the sparring practice late at night behind the cafeteria proved the villain was missing out. The hero wasn’t good to any extent- but they were fun. 

To say the villain liked them was an overstatement. Perhaps saying the hero liked the villain was too. The villain could barely stomach when they showed up to breakfast practically shirtless, when they laughed at half-assed jokes, and returned lazy and suggestive compliments. But the villain liked them on the ground. Panting, bloody, covered in bruises and dirt. He liked it when they bounced back in a pathetic attempt to bring the villain down. He liked the way they’d try stalling by flirting, it was different when they did it with the villain as compared to the soldiers- it was malicious with intent.

“That was terrible.” The hero was on the ground, staining the cuff of their sleeve by cleaning the blood off their face. “Get up,” he demanded.  

The villain grabbed them by the collar of their jumpsuit. The hero only chuckled. 

“Ok. Ok. I’m up.” They rasped. 

“It’s been a month. You haven’t gotten any better. You’re wasting my time, hero.” The hero grabbed the villain’s wrist that was still gripping tightly to their collar. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna get better. Maybe I like the way you hit me.” 

Despite himself, the villain was amused. The hero was anything but heroic. They'd make a terrible captain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t wait to kill you.” The hero smiled at that- like it was the first real compliment they received since they arrived at the base. They got their footing and the villain let go. The hero feigned disappointment.

“There goes my plan to continue your rehabilitation,” they sighed "why continue training me then?"

“It’s more so for myself. It’d be boring if you died so quickly.” he turned to his jacket he’d disregarded when the fight was getting stuffy. "Besides, it's not like you're learning much of anything."

“I should kill you.” 

The villain clicked their tongue. “Now, now. Heroes don’t kill, sweetheart.” Before he could reach for his jacket, a force threw him down. The villain had almost forgotten the feeling of panic-fueled adrenaline, like a shock through his body.

In less than the second the villain took to realize what was going on, the hero was straddling his hips and sending two punches (one for good measure) right to his jaw. The villain spit out blood and stopped struggling against their tight hold.

The fact that the hero of all people had managed to overpower the villain was a cold realization that sent shivers up the his spine; (that could have also been thanks to the hero's muscular thighs around them- but who's to say) they were getting sloppy. The villain was at ease where he should definitely not have been.

Having the hero as his pawn in the game was as sobering of a thought as having the hero being the only pawn in the game, his plan, his magnum opus.

The hero could very easily destroy the villain's plan and make him start from zero, but if he played his cards right- they were also the key to his victory. Ironically, it wasn't much better on the hero's side: the hero needed the villain for their own reasons. Both extremely vital, but useless, if not fatal, if uncooperative. The villain knew the hero knew this. This is to say who is in control here?

After hero caught their breath, their hands landed on the villain's chest, applying enough pressure to be considered a warning.

“I win.” They smiled. “I may not be strong, but if I’m good at something it’s looking for an opening.” their lips curled into something knowing, something taunting. "Opportunities come in all shapes and sizes." They patted the villain's chest, almost amicably.

“I noticed, all with how natural it is for you to get on top of someone."

"Thanks." they sneered. No venom.

They leaned down, their lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear. 

“I know what your plan is. Trust me I won’t make it easy.” The villain only listened, coming to the exciting realization he was the hero's only pawn as well; no one was in control. And they had entered a complex mutually dependent situation. Perhaps the first for both of them. How romantic.

The villain turned his head, lips touching the hero's cheek as they whispered.

"Perhaps I’ll underestimate you when the time comes. But for now, you’re nothing more than a teenager whose daddy didn’t let play with the big kids.” 

“Ohh, it’s going to be so much fun bringing you down” 

“Oh, the most fun. But we have things to do before then, don’t we?” 

The hero pulled their face up to stare at the villain. Neither one of them looked away as they glared daggers. The hero finally chuckled, breathlessly. 

“You know what the other soldiers say about us?” The hero whispered, the electric tension immediately disappearing. They seemed to be good at that.

“Can you blame them? A popular hero and reformed villain sneak away in the middle of the night for hours.” The villain explained. “Bound to raise some eyebrows.” 

“Imagine the drama when we become best of friends at Hero HQ, only for a heartbreaking betrayal.”

“You’ve always been a spectacle, Hero.” The hero finally got off the villain, lending a hand the villain accepted and didn’t let go of once they were both standing. “You seem ok. But something tells me you’re so much worse.” 

“You’re a bad influence. And a wretched teacher.” 

“Unfixable, some would say.”

“Ok go.” Although the rough hand on her right shoulder kept her grounded, the tattoo gun vibrating dangerously close to the left side of her collarbone sent a shock through her system. The slightest prick was more than enough to sober her up immediately. “Wait. Wait! No!” The hero squirmed away, losing her balance and promptly falling off the kitchen barstool and onto the cold tiled floor. 

“Coward.” The villain started down at her. The gloved hands that had hurt her so many times, gripping onto a tattoo gun. “Get your ass back up and on the chair.”

The hero could taste the bile rising in her mouth. Her excessive drinking paired with being inside the villain’s house was not a good combo. Add to that her tiny tank top she unveiled to give the villain access to her desired area of her very first tattoo. The villain drank as much as the hero did, but his steady hands suggested he was stable. Definitely not sober considering he invited her into his apartment and situated her in his kitchen, regardless he remained stoic if a little determined as he helped her back onto the stool. 

“You said you liked the mock up. What now?” The villain’s voice was harsh as it always was, but perhaps the buzz of a few too many softened it into something the hero shivered at. Perhaps the hero really did drink too much. She took another look at the sketch book on the kitchen island, crowded between masterful doodles and absentminded pen strokes, was a clean lined and minimalist illustration of a sun. The hero had totally lost her mind.

“You said it’ll hurt.” the hero confessed. 

“Getting a tattoo close to your collarbone probably doesn’t compare to being stabbed.” He traced a finger down a thin scar on her bare bicep. His hand lingered there like it did when he plunged the knife in oh so long ago. The stab back then was slow and deliberate, just like his touch was now. “I promise you can handle it, Sunshine.” 

The hero burned red at the familiar nickname, a reminder and confession about the meaning behind her tattoo. They had coincidently been at the same bar, alone at that, and the villain hadn't mentioned it, but the way the edge of his lips quirked up at the bar when the hero brought the idea up meant he knew. He immediately seduced the hero by saying he dabbled in tattoos and had a kit at home. Extremely sketchy, but the hero had drank enough courage and recognized this would be her only chance.

“Why am I doing this?” she asked herself but the villain responded. 

“Because you’ve never done a stupid thing in your life.” 

“I got drunk and followed my greatest enemy home, that sounds worse than this.” 

“In that case this should be nothing.” The tattoo gun started buzzing again. “Stand still.” 

And the hero did. She definitely wasn’t drunk, if anyone ever asked she’ll say she blacked out and woke up in a tattoo shop. The villain’s gloved hands were cold on her collarbones, a shiver made its way through her body when the villain leaned in close and whispered in her ear. 

“This'll hurt. Just hang on, Sunshine.”

The hero closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. The pain came sharp, and the villain found the hem of his shirt being gripped in the hero’s hands. He chuckled at her display and made sure to finish as soon as possible. When he finally stepped away the hero’s face was red and her eyes wide with excitement. It was a simple tattoo, a variation of which he'd done a million times but the villain had never been as proud and blown away by his work on someone before. They both looked at her tattoo through the bathroom mirror for a very long while, the hero relished in the sting, the villain taking in the view.

as a glasses user i appreciate the ask more than i should,,, mwah i hope u like it

The villain’s heart dropped at the crack beneath their boot, freezing instantly. The hero’s head whipped towards the origin of the sound. 

“What. Was. That.” The hero asked, less of a question, more of a threat. 

“Oh dear, I must have stepped on an egg shell.” the villain responded, aching to make their voice light. The hero was on the other side of the room on their hands and knees searching for the very thing the villain was trying to kick beneath a pile of boxes. The villain wished they were blind so it’s be easier to not stare at the hero in such a vulnerable position. The hero slowly rose and took cautious steps towards the villain. 

“Were those my glasses, Villain?” They asked calmly. Too calmly. There was silence for a beat until the villain responded. 

“They were technically goggles.” 

“Villain!” The villain knew the hero was blind as a bat, they preferred to wear goggles with prescription due to fear their glasses might break. Villain was screwed. “What- Why!?” the hero screamed. 

“It wasn’t on purpose! I’m sorry!” 

“Stop kicking them away!” 

“Okay, okay.” He said placating. “I’ll buy you new ones.” 

“We both know you’re broke! More so than my glasses, more so than me!” The last words were laced with venom. 

“I’ll steal some!” 

“They were custom!” The hero got very close to the villain, if only to stare them in the eyes without seeing only a blur of their black hair. “I can’t get another pair!” 

“I’ll fix them!” blurted the villain, focused on the radiant green eyes ever so rarely displayed. 

The hero opened their mouth to yell but closed it when they realised this was their only way to not having to arrive at battles with thick -11 prescriptions. Those wouldn’t last a day. 

“Can you?” 

“I’m an engineer.”

“Not in practice.” 

“I built a robot.” the villain reminded them.

“Oh ya, the very same robot that hit me so hard I lost my glasses.” The villain laughed, bending down to pick up the scraps. “Careful not to cut yourself on the glass” warned the hero, looking vaguely in the direction of where they assumed their glasses laid in ruins.

The villain smiled at the concern. “Least I could do is fix your glasses with blood, sweat and tears.” 

“Please don’t.” 

The villain looped an arm around hero’s and guided them towards their workshop.

“But we’re not done fighting!” The hero protested. 

“You’re blind, my friend. It makes it too easy on me.” 

“I bet I can beat you with my eyes closed.”

It was dark, stormy, and the villain was still an hour away from home. Her car had broken down (the police chase was its final straw), her phone was dead (it was run over during said police chase), and the rain was mercilessly pounding against her thin jacket. Coincidently, she had found her way to the alleyway of the Hero’s apartment. She wasn’t supposed to know where the hero lived, but after one day she surprisingly appeared in her apartment and stole her food and stayed the night (she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that night) she rationalised that it was only fair that the hero let her crash on her couch for a night. Despite her better judgement, she climbed on the fire escape and made her way up. 

The hero didn’t lock her windows, she was practically begging the villain to raid her fridge. The villain made her way in through the small window, slipping off her shoes being careful not to track in mud on the couches under the bay window. This was to no avail, once she was finally standing in the apartment she was dripping wet onto the hardwood floors. She took in the dark apartment, cosy. She was sure that in the daylight it followed a pleasant palette of pastel pinks, blues, and greens, but the only lighting was the occasional lightning that burst outside, allowing only for speculation of the hero’s taste in home decor. She did however, make out the crocheted plushies and framed watercolour paintings scattered throughout. It was a small apartment, the one main room cramping the kitchen, dining, and living room all in one. A quick glance to a door left ajar confirmed the hero must be sleeping soundly. Her cautious steps made their way to the fridge, hoping to find leftovers she could eat cold. Before even opening the fridge she felt a blunt pain to the side of his skull, a force with enough strength to toss her onto the checkered flooring of the tiny kitchen.

“Who are you! How did you- oh. Ith’s you.” The hero stood above the villain, bat in hand, wearing a tiny tank top and even tinier night shorts. Good lord. The villain’s hand quickly came to the side of her head to feel for any bleeding or swelling. 

“What the hell?” She screamed. The hero turned on a light, revealing her messy bun and retainer smile. 

“I’m thorry, I thought you were an inthruder” The villain brought herself up, supported by the countertop. The hero had put down their weapon and seemed unconcerned at her own indecent appearance. 

“In your defence, I am an inthruder.” She said, way to smug for someone who couldn’t stand up without the floors moving. The hero rolled her eyes at the jest at her lisp, without shame, she spit out her retainers, returning to her room to put them in their little case. 

“What are you doing here?” She said on the way, “How do you know where I live?” 

“Same way you knew where I lived.” 

“By being an obsessed stalker?” She yelled from her bedroom. The villain finally opened the hero's fridge, finding nothing but a few apples, a loaf of bread, and three heads of cauliflower. 

What is wrong with this woman? 

“Yup. You got any actual food?” 

“Nope. Get away from my cauliflower!” The hero threw a towel on the villain, a towel she considered an invitation to stay. 

“You stink.” she sneered. 

“Running around this city’s alleyways on a rainy night will do that to ya.” She winked. 

“Ya well, take a shower or something.” She yawned.

“Sounds heavenly, care to join me?” 

“You wish, Beautiful” 

The villain made their way, oddly excited to find out what shampoo the hero used to make her hair always smell so good. 

Cotton Candy Raspberry Explosion. Got it. She thought as she stepped into the shower.

The hero seemed to yawn the tiredness away, once the villain was finished with her shower she found the hero watching mindless late night tv on her extremely plush couch. The hero cradled a pillow close to her chest, the mess on the floor cleaned and a plate of grilled cheese still warm on the coffee table. She didn’t seem to notice when the villain appeared in the bathroom doorway with nothing but a towel covering her. 

“Uh, you wouldn't happen to have some ex-boyfriend’s stolen clothes around, would you?” 

The hero’s vision quickly moved from the tv to the villain’s arms. The villain's body had been laden with scars throughout the years, causing an annoying insecurity within the villain when on display, but something about the hero’s stare made her ego rise dangerously high. 

“You look fine like that” she smirked. 

“I don’t doubt it, but it’s a bit chilly.” 

“I can give you a blanket?” 

“Clothes. Please.” 

The hero laughed, as she stood from the couch, motioning the villain over to her bedroom. Being naked in the hero’s bedroom with only a tiny pink towel that had ‘beach babe’ written on it was a humbling experience for the villain. As the hero rummaged in her closet the villain found herself hoping she didn’t actually take out some ex boyfriend’s ivy league sweater for her to wear. Instead she pulled out a huge snuggie, which she initially thought to be a comforter. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Really? Cause it’s pink?”

“That’s not the problem here.” 

“Well I have nothing else for you! You’re huge-” 

“Sure am.” She interjected.

“-and unless you wanna wait around naked for an hour while your clothes dry, this is the only option.” The hero threw the snuggie at the villain and she almost caught it before realising that would require both hands, one of which wasn’t available for it was busy gripping the towel for dear life. The towel was so damn tiny it couldn’t even wrap around her completely. She let the snuggie fall to her feet and admitted defeat.

“A little privacy?” 

“You, alone in my bedroom? No way. Use the bathroom.” 

The villain used tiny kicks to get the snuggie into the bathroom all while the hero’s laughs mocked her from behind. 

The hero was lucky her grilled cheese tasted so good; so there she was: pink snuggie, pink towel on her head, eating a grilled cheese and watching family feud reruns with her arch nemesis at 2 in the morning. She was half hoping the hero to offer to cut her cuticles. 

“So what are you doing here, anyways?” 

“Police chase.” She said through bites. “Phone died. Awful storm. And you just happened to be close by. Thought I could crash on your couch tonight.” 

“Why would you think that?”

“Hmm?” 

“I’ve been trying to arrest you for four years.” 

“Well, I’m taking the grilled cheese as a truce.” 

The tv continued for a while as the both women got comfy, the villain had long lost any tiredness, but the snuggie was proving comfortable to the hero at her side. It was 3 AM when the hero’s head had finally fallen onto the villain’s shoulder. It was 15 after when she started snoring. The villain had to remind herself how much of a pain in the neck the hero was to resist pulling back some hairs from her cheeks. They had gotten too comfortable. To buddy-buddy the villain's superior had said. The villain vowed to never fraternize again after they went a tad bit too far once. But god was it good to look back. 

They had both anticipated awkwardness or total avoidance but it seemed neither of them wanted it. Opting to ignore the fateful encounter and pretend it never happened. But it happened. It really happened. As slowly as she could she turned off the television and began to scoop the snoring hero into her arms, she tossed a little, murmuring something about her cauliflower while lifting her up. She ignored with great strength the soft skin of her thighs against her fingers and the way she cradled her head into her neck as she carried her to her bed. The crocheted plushies never ended, a bee, a dinosaur, a plushie that looked strangely like it was wearing the villain’s suit. She ignored the heat in her cheeks and set the hero down on the squishy mattress. 

“This is a terrible mattress for your spine.” She whispered, tucking her in. 

“Mhhrrm” she responded. 

She was about to leave and rummage through the hero's closets for a blanket when a hand softly gripped her wrist, with eyes stilll closed the hero mumbled something almost incoherent. 

“Stay,” she whispered. 

“We shouldn’t, hero.” 

“We won’t do anything. It’s just cold.” 

“You have like 14 blankets on your bed.” 

“It’s still cold. I have no more for you to cover yourself with.” 

“Ever the sacrificial type, hero.” She allowed himself the pleasure of finally getting the hero's hair out of her face, resting her hand on her cheek. She sunk into it, releasing her grip on her wrist. The villain couldn’t help it any longer, she made his way to the other side of the bed. 

“It’s my job”

“Just tonight, hero.” The second she was under the blankets she was met with the hero’s warm presence gripping onto her. 

“Ya, you’re not my type anyways. I just want you for your body.” She muttered into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around her, shocked at how perfect they felt together. Before the hero's quiet snores reappeared, the villain felt a smile against her skin. 

“Your bosses suck by the way.” 

“So do yours.”

“Hmm.” She readjusted herself. “I should start locking my window.” 

omg thank u sm,, i was proud of it! and ofc! i didn't have a story laid out for them but im always happy to revisit my works (maybe even w/ suggestions wink wink nudge nudge) !! sorry for the late update, i may be silent but trust, i am lurking

medical malpractice: healing boredom

The villain hadn't expected for this to go on for this long, but the little hero was resilient. If the villain didn't know any better, he'd think the hero was getting as much as a kick out of this as he was. His thoughts took over his mind, only snapping out of it when he heard the squeak from the hero and the flinch away from his healing hands.

"Ouch." Hero cradled their newly healed fingers to their chest.

"Oh, so sorry, firework. I was distracted." The hero returned their hand and the villain got to work on their thumb. Maybe snapping each of their fingers last night was overkill they thought- he shouldn't be giving himself this much work. Each heal was a meticulous and fragile process; it took more power than messing with a frontal lobe or blocking an artery. The villain cursed silently as he moved to the hero's other hand.

"I didn't know you could do that." The villain hummed in confusion, asking for elaboration with a raised eyebrow. "Hurt."

The hero was smarter than the villain thought, but apparently also vulnerable to charm. They dismissed things when disguised as a joke or flirtatious comment. Which explains why the villain now spent their Tuesday and Thursday afternoons playing footsies with the Hero under oval tables at meetings. He had had many close calls.

"Mmm. Everyone can hurt someone, Hero." He responded, focused on the hero's untrimmed cuticles.

"Yes, but I didn't think you could do it physically, with your powers."

"Well, healing involves pain, does it not?"

"You don't make it hurt."

"Ah, you've never been healed by someone as talented as me is all."

The hero chuckled. "So it's a skill thing?"

"Of course. A bad nurse would draw blood during a vaccination," He smiled up at the hero, healing the hero's pinky without breaking eye contact. "but you wouldn't feel a thing with a practiced nurse"

The hero's eyes widened at the realization their pinky had been healed. They wiggled each finger that only an hour earlier had turned purple and gone limp.

"Oh, you are good. Thank you, Nurse." They said, impressed, batting their eyelashes and smiling at their fully functioning fingers. The villain stared at the clock, ticking towards 9 PM and letting him know it had taken almost an hour to heal the hero's fingers. Never breaking fingers again, he thought.

"You're all set. Anything else you needed from me?" The hero leaned back against their arms on the examination table, leisurely displaying themselves in their ripped suit with half lidded eyes. They crossed their legs and tilted their head to the side.

What are you playing at, Firework?

"Well, I don't know. I hate that our little meetings run so short."

"They're very frequent." The villain shrugged.

The hero rubbed over the tissue on the examination table, making an infuriating crackling noise. They continued at it while speaking. "I have a kink in my neck."

"I'm a doctor, not a masseuse, Firework." The villain said, turning his back toward the hero, distracting himself from the noise of Hero's fidgeting by organizing paperwork and folders at his desk.

The hero had been at this game the past few visits. Coming up with excuses and making up stories about them and the villain that he knew didn't happen. Last week the hero had said the villain threw them against a brick wall and broke their arm. The villain had certainly not done that.

He was starting to get annoyed at how peculiar the hero actually was. They blabbered non-stop while he took x-rays, they became very sweaty very fast, and they had acquired a staring problem when he inspected them. He assumed the fighting had finally gotten to them. It always does.

"Well, could you maybe at least look at it?" The villain sighed, mourning the fun he had had the past months. Was the joy of fighting the hero really worth the effort of healing them over and over again?

He turned to the hero, a red and sweaty mess, and moved his hands up their neck, getting close to inspect under their hair, to know exactly where to press. If they were lucky, they'd hit pressure point and the hero would drop dead.

The hero wouldn't stay still, squirming under him and leaning their head back. Their hand reached for his elbow and a light tug had made an effort to make them face each other. Noses just inches away from each other. The villain was about to ask what was wrong before he noticed the hero's glance to his lips.

Oh.

The villain was pleasantly surprised at the hero's delusion about their relationship, but that was neither here nor there. He smiled softly at the hero, taking complete control and kissing them even softer on the lips. He liked being a few steps ahead of them. The villain knew the hero had no self control and so was prepared when they grabbed onto the lapel of his lab coat and pushed him on top of them, deepening the kiss as they went.

The hero was very different in this state. Grasping onto the villain to save their life, throwing the stethoscope around his neck to the floor. Hero was in bliss, and the villain decided to keep going along. After the villain's coat was on the floor but before the hero could reach for the villain's belt, the pair was distracted by a knock on the frosted door.

"Shoot." The hero hissed, finally regaining themself, sitting up and diving for the villain's coat on the floor. Sorry they mouthed before yelling towards the door.

"Justaminute!"

"Hurry up in there!" A voice called from the other side.

The hero was red in the face as they fixed their suit, struggling with the zipper the villain had started pulling down. The villain smirked, taking the liberty of zipping it up the rest of the way, his cold hands earning a flinch from the hero. They turned back towards him, before the hero opened their mouth the villain hushed them.

"I'll come see you later, okay Firework?" Their head tilted, their eyes lustful, and their hands right at his sides, exactly where the hero didn't want them. All the hero could utter out was a pathetic Ok, biting their lip to hide their gushing smile before rushing out of the office, only mouthing a bye halfway down the hall.

The villain watched them leave. They didn't mind the 6 or so heroes awaiting treatment. They had begun to regret their choice, chalking it up to a waste of time and effort. All they had wanted from the hero was the occasional fight to get out of boring afternoons lazing around the mayor's office- that had gotten stale. But this could work too. Oh, this could definitely work too, he thought with a dreamy smile. As he gestured for his next client to come in, he knew it would be a messy healing job- he found himself a tad bit distracted.

idk what to name this grrrrrr !!!!!!

 As the villain stood tall, surrounded by barbed wire fences with a friendly red dot on his forehead; courtesy of the sniper commanded to shoot if provoked, he saluted the flag and began planning his escape. 

 His commander had quickly taken a liking to him, after months of perfect drills, attendance, and behaviour everyone’s guard was down and trust was beginning to form. He was first to show up in his ugly green jumpsuit, first to volunteer, and was always first done in every obstacle course. Of course, assuring that there was enough uncooperation at the beginning to track an improvement in attitude and ability as time went on. He whistled at the playboy magazines the other soldiers would show him at lunch time, feigning interest at the same photos of a bare chested men and woman and half clothed celebrities for the third time that week, but most important was what he was doing now, showing an unwavering and determined loyalty to a battered banner on a flagpole. Every. Damn. Morning. 

Once he noticed the target on him had become lazy and the other men patted him on the back as if he hadn’t killed hundreds, he knew it was time before someone got a little too friendly and his act slipped. Last time that happened the villain was sleeping standing up and reciting the national anthem for hours on end. 

He was so close to finally ending the Hero Corp when he was ultimately caught. Being too great of an asset, the judge decided military training would be preferred compared to the alternative of a lethal injection. The judge’s speech was heartwarming and almost convincing. She used buzzwords like ‘rehabilitation’ and ‘wasted potential’ that made the Mayor cream their pants at the opportunity to have a new and shiny hero in their hands. Hell, the whole courtroom gave her a standing ovation and she was promoted to the Supreme court. The villain scoffed, remembering the ridiculous hope she had given the city. As if he muttered when his final verdict was announced. But the villain played along, snooped to find weaknesses and had made connections, it was a matter of time before he was out of here and finally took down the Hero Corps- and this time he would succeed. 

The villain was on their way to their commander’s office, rumours had been going around that the villain was about to get a new parole officer. A minor setback, with the reputation they had gotten at the military camp, it would be too easy to get the new officer off their back and wrapped around their finger. They reached the door with the kindest of smiles and most innocent of eyes, just for it to be immediately wiped off as they met their new parole officer. 

Even with their back turned to him, the villain would be a fool if he didn’t recognize the hero by their curly blonde hair and light blue and meticulously scalloped cape, flowing in what seemed to be a calm wind that only preferred to lay at the ankles of the hero. The commander was gushing over them, hunched over subconsciously and smiling from ear to ear in the grace and radiance that was the Hero. 

Now, the villain had heard of the hero. Mostly things he’d scroll past on social media and an occasional staged fight televised on screen. Last they had heard they were dating a movie star and released a line of kid’s lunch boxes. They had a streak of being a rather scandalous hero, but had recently been rebranded to be more kid friendly and profitable. Demonstrated by shorter boots and their suit that came up to a mock neck (a universally hated decision considering their suit didn’t leave much to the imagination previously). All this to say the villain considers the hero more of a brand rather than a human and much less a hero. 

He had to admit though, he assumed the hero’s good looks were chalked up to professional makeup and maybe even plastic surgery, looking at them now in a brightly lit room he no longer considered this to be true. 

“Villain! Please, allow me the honour of presenting to you our Hero!” The villain now noticed the signed picture of the hero the commander had in his hands, he quickly threw it in a drawer. The villain pretended he didn’t notice and began a staring contest with the hero. 

“No need for introduction, I met you in a porno magazine the soldiers keep under their pillows.” 

The hero laughed, and the villain hated how it sounded like a breath of fresh air in this grey and dusty corner of the world. “I don’t regret that shoot, y’know. My manager told me it was a bad idea but I’ve never had so much fun during promos! Gosh, I’m so embarrassed! I’ve lost my figure, haven’t I?” The hero turned to the commander who only blushed and complimented the hero insistently. The villain couldn’t help but trail their eyes down the hero's incredibly tight suit, growing increasingly annoyed at Hero’s obvious fish for compliments with every attractive dip and curve his eyes brushed over. He paid extra attention to the way their fingers fidgeted and how they shifted their weight from leg to muscular leg. 

Why was everyone complaining about this suit? It shows the same if not more. 

“Nevermind that, Hero. You look like a million bucks- and Villain please, behave.”  The commander said with a rub on the hero’s back, one that lingered a little too long. After a scoff from both hero and villain the commander let go of the hero and went back to resembling his stoic self. 

“We have business to attend to! Villain, the hero will be taking over your progress! As your final goal is to become a hero yourself, Hero will be supervising your progress and reporting to Hero Corp.”

“I figured, Commander. I just don’t see why this is necessary.” 

Before the Commander could speak, the hero interrupted. “If I may, Commander?” He nodded, giving Hero the floor. 

“I was sent by SuperHero. You are like our first trial for villain rehab. I hear it’s going well and SuperHero wanted to confirm. And besides, Villain, with all due respect, I don’t trust you.” It almost sounded like a compliment coming out of the Hero’s mouth. “No one’s ever gotten so close to what you were able to do. And frankly, I don’t believe you to be rehabilitated in as little as a few months.” The hero’s ease in speaking was very casual, constantly as if they were speaking to friends at no stakes. 

Given that Hero was popular and the Hero Corp’s shining star, their powers were somewhat shrouded in mystery, more often than not the Hero was used for promotion and recruitment. That mystery wasn’t something the villain was willing to solve carelessly. Besides, something told the villain this wasn't over. The hero didn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed and was probably following orders- From what he knew from tabloids and drama news; no way they’d rather be here than at some cushy penthouse party, this could maybe be over soon. Just maybe. The villain forced a smile, a kind and innocent smile- one’s he’s practised and perfected over the months. 

“Touche, I guess I’ll just prove myself to you, Hero.” 

“So we’re on the same page!” The hero clapped their hands, an unusual display of excitement in such a case. “Great!” 

With a quick goodbye to the commander the hero grabbed the villain’s shoulder and led him out. It was getting dark and the base was quieting down. The grip on the villain’s shoulder felt ice cold yet red hot, a sick feeling overcame him which only worsened when the hero leaned in and whispered to him. 

“You’re kinda dumb.” Things immediately clicked. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“You didn’t notice a thing! Too distracted staring- jesus. Get yourself together, pervert.” They almost sounded disappointed. The villain smiled. 

“What can I say? You play the sexy, dumb blonde very well.” 

“Tell me about it.” The grip lightened. “After seven years, I'd better have gotten good.” 

The continued walking, the villain puzzling everything together as fast as he could. His ego was based on how many steps ahead he was of everyone, and in this case he was a step or two faster. He analysed the hero’s body language intently before, he smirked when he finally figured out why they cracked their fingers and put a leg in front of the other when they mentioned SuperHero previously. 

“SuperHero doesn’t know you’re here.” 

“Not yet.” They stopped for a tick. “How’d you know?’ 

“Being a pervert has its perks. And you have an obvious tell.” The hero stared for a second before laughing. They reached a secluded area, and night had already fallen. The hero had snatched a bland dinner roll from the cafeteria on the way and was stuffing their face while explaining. 

“So, basically. I’m sick of this. Being seen as weaker or useless just because I’m hotter.” They scoffed. “Teach me how to fight- properly, and I can get you out of here.” They said between bites. The villain only watched, hands inside their jumpsuit staring, unimpressed at the World’s Hottest Hero™ and their manners.  

“You want me to teach you how to fight- so you can prove yourself as a hero?” summarised the villain. 

“Deal or no deal?” 

“And in return you’ll get me out of here.”

“As soon as I can throw a punch, you’re outta here.” The hero finished their dinner roll. 

“They never trained you?” 

“Ever heard of a personality hire?” 

The villain hummed in understanding. “So why the sudden need for vengeance? You do understand I’m going to kill SuperHero once I’m out of here, right? Or did that movie star dump you or something?” 

“First of all, that man has it coming. If I could, I’d kill him myself. Besides, while you do that- I’ll be sipping margaritas in a hammock. Somewhere sunny. Once I’m back I can use his death as a reason why I suddenly got so strong and brooding! I’ll be an inspiration instead of a let down. Second, that’s none of your business.” 

The hero reached inside their utility belt and pulled out another dinner roll. 

“You shouldn’t eat many of those. They’re a bitch to burn off.” 

“Good. So, deal or can I go home? I got a new pair of boots I’ve been wanting to buy before they sell out.” The hero continued eating the roll, they held out their free hand in an expectant way in front of the villain. 

The villain couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. With the hero, they could set their targets strictly on the Super Hero when they get out- not only that but with the hero's shining report on the villain’s progress they'll be esteemed and trusted. After a while of gaining SuperHero’s trust as the first successfully rehabilitated hero, killing him will be a piece of cake. Without the SuperHero at the Hero Corps’s head, the rest of the godforsaken corporation would take less that huff and puff to crumble. As for the hero, the villain had complete control over their training, taking them out will barely call for effort.The pieces fell into place, the villain wasn’t religious, but this truly was a miracle. He smiled and warmly shook the hero’s hand. 

“Deal.” 

‘Perfect! Oh, I can’t wait to get out of these tight spandex suits! I get a wedgie every time I walk.” 

“You’ll look marvellous in our famous dirt stained green.”

“Oh, you know I will.” The hero winked. The worst part was, the villain did know. 

“Ok. I’ll follow.” The hero said. 

“Follow?” 

“Lead the way! We’re new bunk buddies!”