Trash-fire prompts

The brackish water in the tank sloshed violently, the Villain watched the water overflow and run down the sides pooling on the concrete of their base with an unaffected gaze. 

They kept ruffling and re-arranging their jacket, dissatisfied with how it was laying. the sloshing slowed, became minuscule waves only barely going over the sides. They were remembering how when they’d been small their mother had taken them and their sister to the pet store to look at all of the colorful fish, since they’d been too poor to go to the aquarium, Villain smiled at the memory, it was one of only a handful of good ones from this accursed city. 

Villain sighed, annoyed, long suffering, and pushed a button on their watch, a mechanical grinding signified that the mechanism was still working, (you never knew around salt water and disrepair) and the thick rusted chain that was hanging from the massive reel and into the tank started to wrap around again, pulling up the slack and drawing the hero up from the tank. 

The moment their head cleared the water hero gasped air into their burning lungs, only to choke on it, retching and coughing as they tried to breathe. Swinging in the chains that held them suspended in their air like a hooked fish, dripping blood and water back into the tank. 

Villain gave hero a moment to collect themselves, checking the stocks on an app on their phone, they were down, the Villain frowned sourly, they knew that money came and went but they did hate to see it go. When they glanced up at the sodden hero they could see that they were sneering at them, teeth clenched in defiance, but their eyes were bright with fear, and that was a victory in progress. 

“Well?” Villain asked, dropped their phone back into their pocket, “Do you have anything you want to tell me?” 

“You’re not going to get what you want!” Hero threatened, their useless struggling  making them swing aimlessly, “You’re acting like you don’t know what’s at stake here!” 

Villain scoffed, “I know everything, except where my turncoat sidekick is hiding,” they shrugged, “That’s where you come in, you’ve already admitted that you know where they are, now just tell me and we can finish this another time,” Villain’s face darkened, their voice dropping to a threatening whisper, “after all, I know how afraid you are of drowning, I can make that a reality.” 

Hero swallowed, they looked away, “I..I can’t.” 

Villain didn’t even dignify that with a response, they pushed the button on their watch again, and hero tumbled back into the tank. 

Villain didn’t pull them out again until the hero’s struggling failed to produce anything more than ripples, they were struggling more frantically, gasping for breath as they panicked. 

“I have more time than you hero,” Villain observed, “So tell me where they are!” 

“..I-I ..c-can’t!” Hero groaned miserably, their voice raspy from coughing up water. 

Villain rolled their eyes and dunked them again, observing a bit unhappily that the hero’s struggling was growing weaker even if their resolve wasn’t. They frowned to themselves, usually hero was an easier nut to crack when water was involved. 

When Villain pulled them out of the tank hero was on their way to passing out, they hung limply against the harsh rusted chain, fresh blood carving rivulets down their arms and legs where the metal was sharpest. 

“Last chance,” Villain whispered darkly, “Tell me or I’ll drop you in and leave you here to drown!” 

Hero shuddered, it took the Villain a moment to tell that hero was crying, “I-I don’t wanna d-die like this,” they wept, tears streaking down their face, “Please, don’t let me die like this.” 

Villain hummed softly, “You don’t have to hero, just tell me where they are.” 

Hero was close to hyperventilating, “People died..last time, at the pier... I failed because I was-because I was afraid...I always fail.” 

Villain remembered, they’d been able to trap hero underneath the waves, had been more than a little surprised when hero had given up so easily. 

 “Nobody--nobody else is dying be-because of m-me,” hero promised, letting out a shaking breath, “n-not anymore,” they swallowed, a raw determination in their eyes. 

Villain scowled, frustrated rage sparking just below the surface, he wasn’t going to get through this time, and if there was something that displeased him more than loosing money it was realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, “Very well hero,” he observed darkly, “have it your way.” 

With a final rattle of unwinding chain hero disappeared beneath the surface.

Fine then. 

Did I totally drop off the face of the earth and stress quit/forget my password to this account for like a year? Absolutely not, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no words. 

Here you go I’m sorry. 

“So, darling, tell me again,” the Villain grinned, he settled more into his throne, the one he’d stolen from hero’s family, the one he’d killed so many for and would kill so many still to keep--”Tell me how you surrendered because you fell in love with your enemy. Tell us how you failed, again.” Hero was kneeling on the floor beside him, they were in front a gathered crowd, a group of assorted nobles, some of them had rallied behind hero when they’d gone to stand against the Villain, all of them hero had let down.  Hero’s hands were shaking almost imperceptibly being so close to the Villain, no matter how much time had passed since that final battle it never got any easier to be around someone he detested and feared so much. “Go ahead,” Villain mocked, “I’m sure we all would love to know what the kingdom--what the lives of all your people, you friends--your own family is worth to you huh?” Then with a harsh kick that sent hero to the marble floor Villain laughed, “g’ahead, spill the beans!” “I had to--save them..” Hero started from their place at the Villain’s feet, shame burning in their chest, even as they assured themselves that they really had done the right thing...whatever that was. They couldn’t bring themselves to meet any of the noble’s eyes. “They were dying and…” Hero’s voice hitched, “I don’t have anyone else--I couldn’t lose them too!” Hero wasn’t sure what was worse anymore, the fear and disappointment in the faces of people who had once been their friends and allies, or the mad cackling laughter as the Villain made them relive everything over and over again, squashing rebellions before they even started by letting everyone see how hero had given up. That they had been broken.

Later

AWWW!! You’re amazing!!! part 5 of poisoned hero is here! Thank you for taking the time to read it! I am always open to doing continuations, I don’t normally plan on doing more of something unless I’m asked because I always choose things to continue that no one seems to like, (my tastes are garbage, but what’s new?) but I love getting requests!!! :D  

Thank you so much for your kind words, I hope you like it!! 

I hope you day is full of moonbeams, I hope some of them spill out over a honey colored wooden floor, like silver pools, gathering under windows full of stars. I hope that each star reminds you that you are not only from this world, but are made of starlight and moonbeams and honeycombs. I hope that you know, in these moments of ordinary magic that you are one of the most extraordinary, incredible parts of  this earth, both dust and angel wings. 

AHH! Hey Anon!!! I totally can!!! Thank you so much for taking time to read it, it means the absolute world to me!! I’m sorry it took me so long to get to, my life’s a tad wild this semester!

Here is part five. I hope you like it!! :D

I hope you have a day that reminds you of an expansive sky, bright blue and almost oceanic, close enough that it feels like a low ceiling, like it’s resting on the crown of your head. Red sand cool underneath your bare feet, a massive dusk-green cactus reaching like crooked fingers for the sky. Everything is silent except the buzzing sizzle of life around you. 

This is where you belong, nothing above you for miles, plenty of air to breathe, and your soles planted firmly in the soft sand. The sun is going down, but the sky is blue, still blue before it gives way to the rich silky darkness of night. You are safe here, content, as whole and bright as the unbroken sky. 

Here, as promised like a week ago (Sorry, I’m a bad goblin) part five of poisoned hero!

Continued from part one here (hero drugged at the club), part two here (The antagonist beats up some guys in an alley), part three here (The antagonist takes some risks to save hero’s life), and part four here (Where the hero wakes up and the antagonist is kidnapped). 

It really means the world to me that you guys are getting enjoyment out of my little labors of self-indulgent fantasy, and I’m feeling one more in this series(?!) if someone wants it? 

Whoo! 

I’ll admit I’m mad at this, I tried to make the words come out, but, ya’know...the words do what they want sometimes. Also, so long, I’m sorry! I’ve got a lot of words, they’re just not good ones...

Anyhoo, enjoy! I love you all so much. :,) 

Hero drummed his fingers anxiously on the van’s steering wheel, eyes trained to the entrance of the large abandon looking warehouse that the crime boss had told them to come to. Sidekick was seated in the back of the van, fiddling with the crime boss’s ring, out of sight so that no one would get suspicious. 

“They’re late,” hero grumbled, “I think we need to go in.” 

Sidekick hissed when they pinched their finger in the pliers for the fourth time, they looked up at hero sharply, “It’s only been twenty minutes, he’s making us stew on purpose.” 

Hero nodded but didn’t look convinced, stopping their incessant drumming to take a sip out of their water bottle, “I don’t like it though,” they muttered softly, “What do you think he’s doing to the antagonist in there huh?” 

Hero had been waiting for this day since they’d been rescued, the day they finally got back to their team, got back to work. They had to bite their cheek to keep from grinning widely as they rode up in the elevator, it had been a long hard road to get back here, but it would be so worth it. 

They felt a little dizzy when the elevator rose, nothing abnormal, they still had some recovery to do, but the doctor had cleared them for desk work, and even though at one time they would have looked at that with contempt and frustration they were so excited today that they felt effervescent. 

The elevator dinged brightly, announcing their floor, Hero picked up their suitcase, they didn’t have anything that they were working on right now, so it was more for show, but they knew they’d get some cases to start in on as soon as those glass doors closed behind them. They tried to walk normally to those doors, even if they wanted to run towards them, the extreme rightness of this, the feeling of coming home after what they’d been though was so amazing it almost felt like a dream. 

They walked into the office space, doors swinging behind them, “Good morning!” Hero called to their team brightly, they’d let some of their gruff exterior slip since the rescue, it had been stupid to think that they were alone, that no one cared about them, they were a part of a team that had worked hard to find them after months of torture and imprisonment. 

Hero  went to their desk...there was a new computer at their desk, open to some data base, a mug of coffee half consumed, Hero didn’t understand. They turned around, confusion on their face, and for the first time they realized that no one would meet their eyes. A stranger returned to the Hero’s desk, they nodded politely to hero and went back to their computer. 

“I don’t....I don’t understand?” Hero asked no one in particular, they turned to a teammate closest to them, one they’d helped to take down a crime group last April, “What’s going on?” 

Before they can answer, leader interrupts them, “hero,” they start evenly, “You don’t work here anymore.” 

Hero feels their chest tighten, all of their bubbly joy sinking into their stomach like a cold stone in a pot, they didn’t understand. “What?” They blink, no one will look at them, it’s like the rest of their team is pretending that they’re not even here. 

Leader sighed, “Hero, look, we appreciate what you did, your sacrifice saved a lot of people, but don’t you think it’s time for you to do something else with you time? I mean,” Leader shook their head, “You were our sniper, do you think you can keep your hands from shaking long enough to do that again?” 

Hero felt like they were sinking into the floor, it was true, they couldn’t keep their hands from shaking anymore, the doctor had told them that there had been some nerve damage, probably from when the Villain had driven those knives into their hands... “I..I can do other things, the doctor said it would get better in time--” Hero lied, grasping for anything. 

The leader smiled almost condescendingly, “I’m sorry Hero, we’re a team, not a care facility, we have a job to do, and you just can’t do it anymore,” leader shrugged like their hands were tied, “I’m sorry,” they repeated uselessly. 

Hero nodded, feeling numb, they made an effort to keep looking at the floor so that their ex-team couldn’t see their eyes filling with tears. They picked up their suitcase with trembling fingers, (it always got worse under stress) and went back out the door, how could I have been so stupid? They thought to themselves, How could I have thought that they’d want me here when I’m useless? 

Nobody wanted this, least of all me, (just kidding, I’m actually having a grand ol’ time with exploring this, I never write fantasy/magic stuff really so it’s weird and different for me), I wasn’t going to add to this because it’s terrible, or what have you, but, I realized that that’s my whole shebang, so here is part two continued from here. TW for slavery, gas lighting/ manipulation/ Stockholm syndrome-esc stuff, as well as some brief tongue stuff mentioned and some stuff with rope sores. 

@constellationwhump

I put a keep reading so that this isn’t cluttering up my thing...or your thing...

It was easy to quell rebellions, the master thought to themselves, their eyes glinting coldly even as their cold fingertips ran gently through their soothsayer’s thin hair, a smile playing at the corner of their mouth. The soothsayer was exhausted, their head laying in the master’s lap, eyes moving quickly underneath dry eyelids.

It will be a pity to replace him. Inevitable and difficult, never had the master met another who had power like he did, his soothsayer able to wipe out his enemies with a dream, with the power of imagination. 

I’m sorry that this took so long to get to Anon! But here you go! It was already really long, so the ‘hero getting used to Villain and warming up to them’ will have to be a separate part! This went it’s own way, so before you get mad at me know that I was only partially responsible. :) Thank you so much for requesting! I won’t be able to put it into words how incredible getting asks is! I know I’ve been doing this for almost a year but still...you are so great for trusting me with these amazing ideas! 

Thank you for all that I’m worth(It’s not a lot, but it’s something!) 

I hope that your day is a can of sweet fruit juice, after a long walk on a dusty road,something aromatic and refreshing that cuts through frustration and makes you feel revitalized. I wish you a day of needed refreshment after struggle, a meeting of goals and a celebration of the effort when the goals stay in the distance for another day. I wish you the ability to celebrate surviving, the ability to be renewed, and the ability to appreciate how hard you work whether you get where you want to go today or tomorrow. 

Take that can in your hands and marvel at the way the condensation wets your palm, at the delicious chill that travels up your arm, you’ve made it here Anon, and that is worth celebrating. 

I’m so proud of you! :D 

Look out for part two! (if you’re still interested after all of this time that is...) 

Hero dumped cream in their coffee, stumbling around in the kitchen, eyes bleary. They made their way to the kitchen table, sitting down heavily and wincing at the soreness in their back and shoulders. It had been a long night last night, they’d caught a gang of car thieves, but none of them had gone down without a fight and hero had been alone last night, sidekick off with their girlfriend in Maine to meet the parents…

Hero sighed, and took a long drink from their coffee, comforted by the warmth and familiar mix of bitterness and sweet cream. 

Before he could register that there was someone on his porch, a skill he’d needed many times over the last three years, there was a frantic pouding on the door. 

Hero jumped, startled by the sound, fear curled up catlike in the base of his stomach adrenaline a more powerful stimulant than coffee he stood and crept to the door wide awake, snatching his powerful sonic longblade from the table as he went. 

He was careful to not make any sound as he went across the old wooden floor, his bare feet making the task a little easier. 

Not many people knew where he lived, this wasn’t his base it was his house, and he took security very seriously, not serious enough to have a doorbell camera like other hero had bragged about, but serious enough. 

Hero peered through the peephole in the door, holding his breath, breath he let out in a frustrated grumble when he saw Vigilante peering back at him hopefully. 

Hero opened the door, already feeling tired again, Vigilante meant well, but they were young and impulsive, plus he wasn’t always the most trustworthy, and he wondered abstractly what they’d gotten themselves caught up in this time. 

Then he caught sight of what Vigilante was holding and almost slammed the door in their face question answered. Vigilante was supporting a barely conscious Villain, they were pale and mumbling nonsense soaked to the skin, they weren’t wearing their mask and hero could see that they’d been beaten, their face was swollen and covered in bruises. 

“Vigilante what the…!?” Hero ducked behind the door trying to obscure their face, they started to close the door on instinct, Villain was bad news, why Vigilante had taken him here and not to the police was a mystery to him. 

Vigilante grinned at hero relief evident on their face, extending their elbow as if to keep hero from closing the door all of the way, “Hero I can explain!” They said brightly, likely they had rehearsed this on the way over here, “But, um, you’re probably not going to like it.” 

Hero glared around the door, “Why Vigilante? Just take him to the police!” 

Vigilante shifted uncomfortably and looked down, “We’ve actually just come from there I’m afraid,” then, as if suddenly remembering some vital piece of information they looked up again, “Oh, and don’t worry about them seeing your face, they’re way too out of it to actually know it’s you, they were calling me sidekick when I pulled them out of the canal.” 

It had taken hero this long to realize that Vigilante was also soaked, they looked half-drowned actually, their clothes were slick to them, they slicked their dripping hair back with the hand not holding Villain, “You going to invite us in or…” 

Hero stood in the doorway silently for a moment, knowing full well that they were going to invite Vigilante inside, but wanting to teach vigilante a lesson. 

They shouldn’t have bothered, when they sighed finally and stepped aside, Vigilante tramped into their house without the slightest qualm, dripping on the floor and half-dragging half-carrying Villain in with them. 

Hero crossed their arms over their chest after they’d shut the door and bolted it, never mind one of the most dangerous people in the city was already inside of their house, they looked at Vigilante sternly, “So? The explanation is..?” 

When Vigilante looked up at them again they realized how exhausted they were, dark circles under their eyes, arms shaking with exertion, hero dropped their false sternness, “What do you need from me Vigilante?” 

Vigilante seemed to melt with relief, “The police did this to them,” They motioned to the Villain who’s mutterings had given way to weak shuttering, “I need you to keep them here and help them get better while I build a case against the Villain stopping squad.” 

Hero frowned, he’d heard rumors about the violent and often inhumane tactics that the VSS used against people they’d deemed enemies of freedom, it was somewhat well known that if you were a questionable person in regards to morality in the city you stayed away from the police. 

But while they would not be against Vigilante putting a stop to the VSS, there was no way in Hell or heaven or anywhere in between that they were going to help Villain, and certainly not at their own house! 

“Absolutely not Vigilante, I’ll do a lot of things to help, I’ll go undercover, I’ll try and join the VSS to get dirt on them, but Villain is my enemy, and I’m not having them here even if they are too out of their mind to know it’s me.” 

Vigilante’s face fell, “But you’re a hero?” They stated uselessly, “You’re the one who stands in front of the people who need protection.” 

Hero shook their head, looking away. 

“I don’t understand,” Vigilante continued, “I’ve seen you help mob bosses and gang members, even that band of thieves last year that almost killed you, why not help Villain?” 

Hero stewed for a moment, fumbling for the right words to say, “Because it’s him! All of those others were only out for their own good, they didn’t want to hurt people, they just wanted to not be hurt anymore themselves! But Villain? Villain actively hates good, he schemes against it, he’ll go out of his way to cause trouble even when there is no benefit for him! He’s evil with a capital ‘E’!” Hero’s face was reddened and he was breathing hard, he raked a hand over his face, somewhat surprised at his own outburst. 

Vigilante looked angry, “You done?” They asked without giving hero a chance to answer, “Because I’m hearing that you, the person who is the beam of hope for this corrupted city, the person who has talked me out of using violence at every turn is refusing to help someone who really needs their help. And why? Because they’re a ‘bad guy’ well, hero, guess what? I’m a bad guy too where VSS is concerned!” Vigilante’s voice had risen to a shout, their face was flushed, their eyes shining, “Villain was captured trying to rescue me from them! They weren’t going to do to me what they did to him but he didn’t know that! So our, irredeemable prince of drama and careful apathy broke in, by himself, and got himself captured! For ME! But he’s just evil, capital E and all that, nothing good about him or whatever.” 

Vigilante started towards the door, turning away from hero so that he couldn't see the tears in their eyes, “I’d heard the stories too hero, but I didn’t care too much until they came for me, because these people are the bad guys right? They break the law they pay the price, guess what hero?” they sniffled, voice breaking, “That’s exactly the logic that the VSS uses.” 

Hero swallowed, feeling rightly guilty, they reached out and put a hand on Vigilante’s shoulder, Vigilante shrugged them off, “Listen, Vigilante I’m sorry okay, I didn’t know…” Hero knew that they were going to regret this decision, but their mind was made up, “And if it means that much to you, I’ll help Villain alright? But just this time, and just because it's you asking.” 

Vigilante turned around, “Really?” They asked carefully, “you’re not going to turn around after I’m gone and call the VSS?” 

Hero shook their head in disgust, knowing that after what they’d said it was a viable question, one that made them sick, “I’ve never called them, I won’t start now.” 

Vigilante sighed, a bit of mischief returned to their eyes, “Does that mean I’m right and you’re wrong this time?” They asked, biting the inside of their cheek to keep from grinning. 

Hero groaned helplessly in frustration, “Yes, this time.” 

Vigilante Smiled brightly, just then Villain murmured, hero’s face sobered, “Here,” they said, “Help me get them to the couch.” 

Hero helped Vigilante support Villain's dead weight to the couch, once he’d been deposited Vigilante sat down on the floor next to the couch, looking spent. 

Hero’s heart twinged in sympathy, “Why don’t you go up stairs and take a shower? It’ll warm you up, and I’m sure I have some clothes that’ll fit you, sidekick and you look about the same size.” 

Vigilante smiled gratefully, “You sure?” They asked, already going up the stairs. 

Hero glanced a little nervously at Villain “I’m sure, you’ll need your strength to be able to stop the VSS, plus hopefully you’ll do it fast?” 

Vigilante chuckled and didn’t answer them, leaving hero and Villain alone in the living room. 

Hero hesitated a second before carefully removing Villain’s wet clothes. Once they’d gotten them off they looked at the damage, hero realized that Vigilante was right to be afraid. 

In the better light Villain looked dead, not that he’d looked particularly alive by the early morning sunshine, his chest was covered in bruises, several stab wounds were still weeping blood, not to mention the older scars, healed to raised memories of pain and survival. 

One of the wounds in Villain’s side was particularly deep, the edges of the wound an angry infected red. Now that they were looking at them they could see Villain’s face was flushed with fever, the shivering and weak muttering made more sense now. 

Hero sighed and went to get their medical kit, remarkably well stocked, they cleaned Villain’s wounds carefully before bandaging them and wrapping Villain in an oversized blanket. 

When they were finished Villain had stopped shaking, they’d moved from delirium to a peaceful sleep, 

Hero was forced to admit to themselves that while Villain was asleep they weren’t too bad to look after, the worse part would come later when they would wake up in hero’s house, weak and confused. 

Rain was too gentle a term for what the weather was doing, hero was soaked to the bone a few minutes into their patrol, the howling wind blew right through their uniform, they were shivering and miserable. What’s worse is that they had a job to do, Villain had been sighted downtown, and wherever that monster went there was pain and destruction to follow. 

Hero made quick work of searching the downtown area, they didn’t want to be out in this storm any longer than they had to be, after an hour they had almost given up on finding Villain, maybe the sighting had been fake, or maybe they’d decided to hold off because of the rain, cause a little destruction another day instead. 

Hero headed down one last alley, they were on the old side of town now, these alleys were still brick paved, the putrid scent of wet garbage back here was a wall of smell, hero crinkled up their nose in disgust, they turned to leave, as they did so, something caught their eye hunched in the corner by the dumpster. 

It was Villain, smell forgotten hero crept close carefully, ready to attack at any moment, as they got closer to Villain’s crouched form they got the sense that something was wrong, Villain was breathing in shallow panting breathes, one arm wrapped around their middle their eyes were squeezed closed. 

Hero was about to pounce on them to try and retrain them before Villain knew that they were even there, but then they saw the blood, it was splashed up against the bricks, pooling around Villain on the alleyway, oozing between Villain’s fingers. 

Hero made a small surprised sound in their throat accidentally and Villain’s eyes shot open, for a moment all that shone in those normally self-assured mocking eyes was fear, raw and animal, then it was replaced by pained annoyance. 

Hero suddenly felt cold. 

Villain waved their bloody hand absently, “Get going, nothing to see..to see here,” they struggled to sit forward but didn’t manage to budge, they blanched and sunk back to the wall with a groan. 

“What happened?” Hero exclaimed, suddenly finding his voice and ability to move again, he stepped closer, convinced that Villain was hurt far too badly for this to be a trap. 

“Th-this?” Villain slurred, “This is what happens when you’re the bad guy, comes with the territory,” they glared at hero, “you think after a fight I’m magically cured?” 

“Who did this to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, now get!” Villain sneered, baring bloody teeth, it reminded hero of a beaten dog, one that had to fight constantly to keep itself alive, hero felt his chest tighten. 

“I can’t leave you like this,” hero said, they went to grab Villain and help them up but Villain flinched away from them violently, cowering in fear.  

“I know you hate me...Just...Please...leave me alone...” Villain whimpers, turning away from hero’s hands as best they could. 

“It’s not...Damn it Villain! Just stop and look at me!” Hero’s aggressive tone surprised themselves, they balled their hands into trembling fists at their sides, squeezing their eyes closed,“I want-” their voice broke and they swallowed convulsively feeling like their heart was ripping into burning pieces, when they spoke again their voice was gentler, a raspy whisper,”I want to help you, please let me help you.” 

Villain was watching them carefully, even through the dirt and obvious pain their eyes were clear almost sharp, hero realized they were watching for hero to take it back, for the softness to go back to being an act something not real and controllable. Realizing this broke hero’s heart even more than they thought it was capable of breaking. 

When hero didn’t take it back Villain shivered, their eyes darting nervously around trying to see some trap or sign of hero’s friends, when they didn’t their eyes snapped back to hero, “What...What then? Hmm?” They were trying to keep the breathless hope out of their voice, forcing a tired transparent sneer instead, “You get me somewhere...dark and then...then you..you turn me over? Keep me locked up? Torture me for the whereabouts of my people?” The rush of questions dazed them, they closed their eyes against the wooziness, their head dipping back to the bloody bricks, “M’tired of alla that,” they muttered dizzily. 

Hero swallowed, trying to keep their voice steady they felt so useless, so angry, they wanted to say so many things, they wanted to threaten the agencies that had turned Villain into this, wanted to promise them that they wouldn’t do anything to them, that they were different, they wanted most of all to tell Villain that they wished that things were different, instead they settled on saying “I’m sorry that there are people who made you think that there are no good heroes left, and I’m sorry that I failed you.” 

Villain opened their eyes at that, all pretenses gone they looked back at hero through the dripping rain with confusion on their face, maybe a little fear, this was uncharted territory after all, “h-how do you mean?” They asked, strength giving out, folding to the soaked ground, hero ached to catch them, but didn’t want to startle them further, they stepped forward slowly, crouching down at Villain’s side, putting a gentle hand on their forearm as they watched Villain struggle to keep their eyes from rolling into the back of their head. 

“I’m a so-called hero, I save people, but I didn’t save you.” 

Villain looked like they wanted to protest, they settled for pointing at themselves with a weak smirk, “notta person,” they slurred. 

Hero smiled back at them and was surprised how much the joke hurt, like it was a piece of broken glass they’d swallowed, their face went back to seriousness, “Please,” they begged Villain, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” 

“Caus it’s your job?” Villain guessed, trying in vain to muster up the strength to sit up, they only managed to wince and slide further to the ground. 

“Because I want to.” 

“Because you’re a good person?” Villain quipped, not quite sarcastically, they were out of options, literally backed into a wall, the gaping wound in their side wasn’t helping either. 

“Because you’re worth saving,” hero stated simply, hero removed their glove, offering their now volurnable hand to Villain. 

Villain looked up at them with a terrified form of gratitude, skin contact was the only way the Villain’s powers worked, hero was demonstrating good faith that Villain wound’t immediately kill them, never mind that Villain was too weak to muster any power right now, hero didn’t know that. 

“C’mon, let it be over,” hero prompted gently as Villain stared at their hand transfixed, “It can just be over for today if you want, but just for now, let’s put this behind us, huh?” 

Villain ripped their eyes off of hero’s hand, off of hero’s startling display of trust and genuine help when Villain was at their absolute weakest, when they would be so easy to stop permanently, to stomp into dust and rid the world of, “What about tomorrow?” Villain asked timidly, still not quite brave enough to trust hero like hero was trusting them. 

Hero smiled almost bright enough to be the sun, Villain thought that in the dark of this alley it wouldn’t be hard to get them confused, “We’ll deal with tomorrow when we get there, not a second beforehand.” 

Villain reached out and took hero’s hand, it was warm and smooth, larger than theirs, they shuddered at the contact, feeling small and defenseless, now that they’d decided to trust hero their fear borne strength was waning, their world started to tilt sickly around them, the pain became a thundering mess in their trembling nerves, they pitched forward leaning towards hero with the last of their strength. 

Hero didn’t let them down, they caught them, gently lifting them, the last thing that Villain heard before finally giving in to unconsciousness was hero’s unwavering voice somewhere close to their ear, “I’ve got you buddy, I’ve got you.” 

Hiii!!!! Oh my goodness you are too sweet to ask! Of course you can! I’d love it if you spread around some compliments, the world always needs more. :D 

Thank you for asking and for being so nice, you are too kind! 

(Whew, now the pressure is on ;) ) 

I hope that you have a day that reminds you of the color yellow, bright sunshine and daffodils, ducklings bobbing in a bright blue pond, lemon drops and golden honeycombs. I wish you dandelions, daisies, and sunflowers, I wish you that feeling when you close your eyes while laying on your back in the grass and the light shines through delicate eyelids making what would normally be darkness soft pink warmth. 

Different from what I normally do, more psychological than physical, warnings for slavery and Stockholm syndrome-esc stuff as well as sort of brain-washing/gas lighting. 

More requested stuff is coming namely #bridgeplan #5 and more poisoned hero, but my garbage brain wrote this instead, I’m very open to continuing anything if anyone wants that...It just might take me 89 years. 

Before it all happened he’d been happy, as happy as a person born low could be anyways, he’d always known there was something wrong with him, something that set him apart from the others, but before, well before is was more of a nibbling at the back of his brain, a word he’d almost forgotten the taste of when it slipped across his tongue, it hadn’t yet grown into this inescapable thing that consumed his every hour, stole his sleep enough to drive him almost to madness. 

Maybe it would have stayed like that if he’d never broken into the castle in the first place, just a tiny voice that insisted that he was different than other people, maybe he never would have had to know how much. 

He barely remembered the sun now, save only moments where it would come to him again suddenly, memory so strong he’d be momentarily overtaken by it, sunny days smelling like grass, hay, and fresh bread, the warmth of the sun on his shoulders, children laughing, the tress buzzing with crickets....But then it would be gone just as fast, and he’d be back sitting on his wooden throne the ghost of grass tickling the soles of his feet, and he would no longer be sure if it had been a memory, or if he’d created it accidentally.

He often wept after these ‘visions’ they were worse to him than the ones full of pain, fear, and fire that the master asked him to manifest for him, worse than the smog and sharp lingering smell of burnt flesh and blood that often stuck in his nose after his master had come to ask him for something. Back then he’d been allowed into the golden sunshine, been allowed to see other people, there he’d felt free even if that wasn’t the case. 

Now he was alone, save the master, save the few guards he’d see on extremely rare occasions, this great empty castle cold enough to leave a chill in his bones always, his nose numb from a cold that never ended, his fingers and toes aching if he ever got them warm. His existence whittled down to a handful of waking lucid hours, and long periods full of vivid waking dreams that left him trembling with discomfort, weakness, and most notably, power. 

At first, when he’d been able to control it he’d relished the feeling of the power warming him with some sort of inborn fire even if it the visions scared him with their reality, but he’d obliged to please the master, happy to keep his bones from being added to the pile in the muddy stinking moat that went around the castle like a ring of Saturn. Now it ached like the cold, like his joints, like his head every time the master wanted the future told in just the way he wanted, imagined bloodshed and all. 

Except... 

Except lately that voice, the same one that told him he was a little different from other people, had started to insist that the visions weren’t imagined at all, that they were real.  It asked him, in those precious spare moments between being over taken by horrific visions if the flames had felt real this time? If the screams had been just right? If the smell of burning had been choked his throat with ash? 

He’d wondered at the answers of course, he’d always thought it strange when after a vision his throat hurt like he’d been inhaling smoke, or he’d have bruises on his body from where arrows had struck him from battles imagined around him, but that had been earlier on, and he’d rationalized it to be from the rough treatment and inhaling dirt in his cell. As time went on these ‘side effects’ grew worse, as did his weakness, there was a sense of drawing, an ache of chill, and then a sensation of trying to draw a breath underwater, then the vision would start, leaving him weaker than before. The master fed him well, tried to make him as comfortable as was able, but he was never able to rest for long without his visions, thus he was never able to regain the strength that he’d once possessed. His mind was broken, sometimes he babbled incoherently, he bled often from his nose, mouth and ears, he bruised and never healed, his hair had grown brittle and dry before starting to fall out,  he spent most of his time propped up in the wooden throne without the strength to even lift his head. Even still he was content here, his mother was taken care of by him being held in the castle, and he was different, he was special. 

Then, just last week he’d gotten too close in one of his visions to a pillar of fire that had been engulfing a  barn, suddenly his arm had ignited with white hot burning, he’d screamed, the pain ripping him out of the vision and sent him spinning mentally, he’d torn the sleeve of his robe off, revealing an imprint of fire, his damaged skin weeping blood. 

After that he’d been very afraid, almost afraid enough to ask the master about it, but he so often forgot now, and consciousness didn’t stay with him for very long, but when he could he still wondered what he was actually doing, when he did his chest felt heavy with fear, he became more aware of how trapped he was, how helpless, he could barely walk anymore, all of his power going into his visions. 

Sometimes when he felt very afraid he would picture the fields, the sun on his shoulders...The sound of water singing in the brook, the smell of dandelions and roses intertwined....

Nevertheless, he knew that it was easy to reminisce, to look back at his past with the warm glow of sunny nostalgia, it wasn’t easy to accept the fact this this was the place that he was free, here in these castle dungeons he was able to do what he was meant to, here sitting propped up in a wooden chair so cold it seemed to be made of marble he had meaning. He was soothsayer to the master of this land. The master had told him that other people would kill him for his visions, he was different, wrong, only the master saw him for what he was, something good, someone with great power, the master often gently hummed to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, told him that no one else would ever care for him the way the master did. 

The master would never lie to him, and so he never even imagined what it would be like to be anywhere else, to wish for anything other than this would be blasphemy to the only one who’d ever cared for him. 

Their reluctant partnership started when hero’s life was threatened and they’d had needed a ‘different’ set of eyes on the odd puzzles that the prospective murderer was sending them. 

Villain had agreed for a price of course, plus they always loved puzzles, so it beat being bored. 

At some point it became sharing a pot of terrible coffee with your worst enemy both of them crammed into a ratty booth at the 24 hour diner working over scraps of the clues trying to piece the identity of the guy together. 

They had decided on the diner because it was neutral ground, a welcoming place in a bad neighborhood. They had to make an agreement not to fight, a few times both of them came close to breaking that agreement. Each of those times they’d left the diner sure that the partnership was over, but each time they inexplicably found themselves back again the next night, sometimes they even shared jokes about getting so bent out of shape.  

Neither of them could remember who had offered their house first, but it was definitely due to the availability of better coffee, shortly thereafter hero had let their baking skills shine, offering cookies, coffee cakes and scones to go with the coffee. 

Villain had been impressed.

There must have been a point when their automatic response to their enemy showing up on their porch stopped being to ready for battle, but neither of them marked it, but it was decidedly after grudging acceptance had given way to an odd shared fondness, a soft sort of friendship forming in all of those moments when hero shared a little about their life and Villain complaining about something ridiculous one of their henchpeople had done (Calling them henchpeople had been hero’s idea).  

Sometimes they even got together after a battle, once or twice after a battle with each other, hero would be laid out on the couch, an ice pack held against their head as Villain read them the next set of messages, sometimes stopping to change the ice, or get hero a glass of water (can’t have you shirking your part of the deal, you said we’d solve them together remember?) or Villain would be camped out in bed, ribs bandaged carefully by hero while they’d protested and hero would bring them a milkshake (Can’t win em all right?). 

They even stopped looking for weaknesses in each other’s bases, opting instead for movie nights, gripe sessions and attempting to solve each new problem as it came, (they’d narrowed it down to one of five people). 

Then Hero disappeared, (Villain was the one who actually reported them missing, after hero had failed to show up at their base). Villain had torn across town to hero’s cramped apartment, finding it trashed, and a trail of hero’s blood starting in the kitchen and leading out the front door to the street. 

Villain had stood there in the street, unsure of which way to go, fog slowly rising, until the police arrived, they asked the Villain several questions, all of them fairly offensive. 

Villain answered them all, their cooperation flabbergasting the police, when they finished being questioned the Villain had put their team to work, going methodically through the five people that they and hero had narrowed the list down to. 

On the third one they got lucky, one of Villain’s henchpeople had even seen hero inside, beaten, gagged, and tied to a radiator. 

Villain arrived looking to deal with the deranged obsessive themselves, murder in their intentions as well as their eyes, but when they’d gotten to hero they’d passed their weapon to one of their people in favor of carrying hero outside. Hero had been confused, drugged and hurt, but the moment they recognized Villain they’d relaxed a little, they fell asleep in the car on the ride over to Villain’s base.  

Hero was fine, they’d had much worse, just a broken wrist, some bruises, a broken nose and a couple of black eyes to match. Villain had them wrapped up and bandaged in no time, after all they’d had some practice. 

When hero had woken up they’d thanked them, both for the rescuing and for helping them in the first place. Villain had told them it was nothing, and that they still expected hero to hold up their end of the deal (Wouldn’t dream of dropping out now). 

Later hero had gone home, feeling a little off, after all they’d caught the guy who’d been threatening them! Villain had ended up being a good ally and they’d survived without too much damage, why did they feel sad?  Like something was gone? 

It took them a few days to realize that they missed Villain. (They realized this at breakfast, coffee cup in hand). 

Anon! Thank you for submitting this! I really like this one, (I actually think I’m going to do forced sleeping pills soonish in addition to this one because I liked it so much--you could say it is my jam this week, lol) I hope this is sort of what you were hoping for? 

Thank you for being awesome! 

I hope your day is hot sand and cool water, the duality of beach days, both the sand and the sandwich, hopefully not as one entity. 

I wish you the strength to get through the bad knowing that the good is on the way, waiting in the wings, and that your feet don’t burn with all the steps you’ve taken on this weary earth. 

But if they do I wish you lake water, deep and dark and refreshing. 

Take both care and smooth stones from all the beaches life gives you. 

Enjoy! :D 

Hero pulled into base as the sun crested over the city with all the enthusiasm of a convict returning to prison. 

He sat in the car as the engine cooled, scrubbing a trembling hand over his face, his eyes felt like they were full of sand, the muscles in his arms and shoulders burned fiercely when he shifted to open the door, he walked up the path to the door on legs that felt like rubber. 

As he fumbled briefly with his keys he began to fantasize about falling into bed and just sleeping for ten--maybe even twenty four hours, it would beat the hell out of what he was doing ever since super villain had resurfaced, catching sleep half hours at a time during the day, or while off watch at base. 

He’d actually managed to do something last night, catch a few of super villain's guys robbing the Gadinia st. bank, when he’d questioned them after stopping them one of them had actually given him a lead as to where super Villain’s base was. 

It was a win--one he’d follow up on after he’d gotten some sleep, he wasn’t much good to anyone like this, let alone the whole city. 

He set his keys on the counter, pouring himself a tall glass of water to try and cut the dust he felt in his throat. 

It was oddly peaceful in base today, the main room was actually completely empty in fact….Where was everyone else?! 

Hero jumped into high alert, glad he hadn’t taken off his cuffs when he’d entered like he normally did, he began to methodically sweep the building, room by room, clearing it in the unnatural silence. 

His mind, though sharpened by adrenaline was still in a buzz of exhaustion, it felt like his thoughts were traveling to him through a mesh sieve. 

Had his team told him that they were going to be somewhere else? He couldn’t remember that, but he wasn’t 100% sure either. As he cleared the last room he heard the door burst open, followed by the voices of his team, all of them talking at once in a wall of frantic sound that made him more nervous than he had been in the silence. 

He rushed to the mainroom hearing the sounds of desperate struggling, was one of them injured? What was going on?! 

“Where were you!?” One of the other heroes called to him accusingly when he rounded the corner, the other hero was helping leader, their sidekick, and two other heroes contain the heavily struggling antagonist who was bleeding badly from a wound somewhere in his side. 

The antagonist was panicking, trying to push the other off of him, there was an odd wild disconnected look in his eyes, they looked scared and lost, like a hunted animal. 

“I didn’t--My phone got smashed, what happened?” Hero stuttered, blinking as his team fought the antagonist into the room and laid him on the couch,  as soon as they tried to let go of him he tried to bolt, struggling to escape as if his life depended on it, only to collapse to the floor, not strong enough to get anywhere. 

Hero hadn’t seen the antagonist in more than a month, they’d been so preoccupied by super Villain that they hadn’t even checked up on their regular nemesis’s whereabouts. They could see that the last few weeks hadn’t been kind, they were much thinner than they had been the last time they’d seen them, their eyes were wild and shone with raw panic, they were mumbling half spoken pleas in a broken painful croak of a voice but they sounded resigned, like the mercy that they were begging for they didn’t expect. 

“Stop! No more, no more! Please!” They groaned, turning away as best they could. 

The other hero made eye contact with hero over the weakly struggling antagonist, “We don’t know,” they said grimly, “We found them collapsed in a dumpster, an informant called it in.” 

“Can you bring in some bandages hero?” Leader asked, they were trying to put pressure on the antagonist's wound, they pulled up the antagonist's shirt, trying to get a better look at what they were working with--what they saw made them gasp, all the sound in the room died, hands loosened their hold on the antagonist enough for them to pull away and curl in on themselves, pulling as far away from the heroes as they could with a choked groan. 

The antagonist’s torso and back were ripped to shreds, covered in raised angry welts and ragged edges of flesh that wept blood. 

They’d been whipped, burned, beaten, hero wasn’t sure what was worse, they swallowed hard to keep from being sick, leader had gone pale, they looked down at the blood on their hands, the antagonist writhed with agony behind them, seemingly in too much pain to stop moving. 

Other hero had stepped back when the wounds were revealed, “Who’d do something like that?” They whispered in horror, watching as the antagonist’s movements grew weaker, the shuddering more pronounced. 

“Super Villain would, if they wanted something from them,” Hero stated through clenched teeth, “We’ve got to do something!” 

“First we do this,” leader snapped, steeling themselves to the task at hand “Bandages, please.” 

Hero went to the medical cabinet, retrieved rolls of bandages, a bowl some warm water, a cloth, and a small bottle of strong pain relievers.

When Hero got back into the room leader had positioned other hero, their partner, and the others to what were hopefully less painful holds for the antagonist. They’d gotten their better holds on him, in his weakened state is wasn’t difficult to restrain him anyway. 

“Look around antagonist, it’s us, hero’s over there, you’re safe,” other hero tried to reassure, but the antagonist didn’t seem to hear them, they were still trying to pull away, babbling weakly in supplication. 

Other hero winced as they tried to hold the antagonist gently, they didn’t like thinking that in their struggle to control them they’d hurt them even more than they were hurt already. 

Hero handed the supplies to leader, who took them grimly, hero sat by the antagonist’s head, keeping them from whipping it from side to side like they had been, they smoothed the antagonist’s sweaty hair away from their face.

“N-no,” the antagonist groaned, when they felt leader gently grasp the bottom of their shirt, when the leader started to remove their shirt, unsticking it from their wounds the antagonist screamed, ragged and broken, hero winced, feeling a pang of guilt, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for this. He took two of the pills from the bottle and placed them in his palm, “Antagonist? Can you hear me? Hey, you in there?” he tried to keep his voice from shaking. 

“No, no please,” the antagonist choked out, “I don’t--can’t! Please! No more!” 

“We’re helping you okay? Can you take these for me?” Hero held the drugs up for the antagonist to hopefully see, but the antagonist didn’t seem to understand them. 

“Please,” they begged,“I can’t take it anymore.” 

Hero set his mouth grimly, taking the antagonist’s jaw in his hand he opened it gently, forcing the pills inside the antagonist's mouth despite the antagonist’s weak thrashing. Hero hoped that the antagonist wouldn’t choke, but they needed them to swallow those pills, they were delirious in their current state, too out of it to know that the heroes were helping them. 

The antagonist tired to spit out the medication, but hero clamped their hand over their mouth, they struggled violently for a moment, perhaps thinking they were being drugged by the people that hurt them, but they couldn’t keep it up for more than a few tense seconds, they didn’t have anything left. 

The antagonist swallowed the pills, sagging into themselves in both defeat and bone-deep exhaustion, when the leader started to gently wash their collection of wounds the intensity of the pain only helped to send them into unconsciousness. 

“If you don’t let him go, I’m not responsible for what happens.” The gang leader leaned back, tucking his jacket back and showing off the guns on his belt, his face lit up from the red and green neon lights coming in from the bar across the street, he was almost pretty--and far too young to be here, he shouldn’t have known that this was going on at all. He was also far too young to have such cold cruelty in his eyes, he sneered, his palm coming to rest on the grip of one of the pistols. It was a gesture that said go ahead. 

The old one loosened his grip on the spear with the markings that kept shifting from blue to green and back again, he did not loosen his grip in the bleeding man’s hair, too much rode on this sacrifice, he didn’t savor it, but he knew his duty, no one would ever accuse him otherwise. 

The bloody man groaned, the old one noted with some distaste that he was coming around again, the gang leader had slowed him down, and he’d only had four hours to begin with, he could feel the plates in the earth groan beneath his feet, it was almost time. 

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” the old one spoke, it was a truthful statement, but one that sounded threatening, he tried to fix his inflection, “This has to happen boy, neither you nor I have the power to change it, it’s fate,” he spoke the word with such reverence that it seemed to echo in the empty shell of the burned out apartment building. 

The gang leader chuckled, but the old one could see that the dark in his eyes didn’t go all of the way through his soul, “I don’t believe in fate,” the gang leader raised the gun, and despite all of the blood, the sight of the battered man being held aloft by his own bloody hair, despite the weird staff that seemed to glow, and despite the old man dressed as a wizard, his hand didn’t tremble in the slightest. The last thought he had before the air in the room was replaced by trembling and the ground folded under their feet, the dark coming in like a presence, was that he figured his father would have been proud of him. 

“If this is where you want it to end so be it I guess,” the Antagonist makes a point of looking disinterested, hero is cradling their sidekick’s broken body, tears trickle down their face unchecked, they don’t even see the Antagonist. 

“It’s okay now,” They whisper almost hopefully to their too far gone sidekick, “It’s okay, you did good, you come home now with me.” 

The Antagonist rolls their eyes, and points their weapon at the hero, “He’s gone, and if we don’t move we’re going to be just as dead, The Villain likes to return to the scene of the crime, remember?” 

Hero doesn’t move, they are brushing dirt and blood off of sidekick’s face, making soft clucking sounds like a mother wiping off a dirty toddler, their mind is broken, they haven’t accepted that sidekick is gone. “Man, leader’s been so worried about you man, we’ve all been worried sick, we didn’t want something to--something to-something to have happened to you,” the end of the sentence hitches, hero freezes his gentle brushing, the tears come unbidden, to hero it feels like he’s breaking in to, he can’t breathe, hero buries his head in sidekick's chest, still for all the world. 

“You’ve got a choice to make here hero,” The antagonist drawls down to the sobbing hero, taking his head in his hands, hero doesn’t stop crying, not even to face his enemy, he doesn’t think that he can stop. 

The antagonist slapped him, hard and stinging across his face, the shock made hero gasp, the heaving sobs abating some due to shock, “Listen to me you fucking wimp!” The antagonist thundered, “You can’t do anything more for this sidekick, he’s fucking dead! But you have a choice to make here and now, one time offer! Let it all end here,” The antagonist makes his voice high and whiny, “The bravery, the heroism,” his voice drops back to a growling sneer, “All that shit you’ve been preaching that got your friend killed, or..” He crouched down closer to hero, his eyes growing rapturous, “Or, you join me, get a little old fashioned revenge and then for good measure I’ll let you in on a secret,” the antagonist smiled, looking a little mad, “Sidekick doesn’t have to die here, none of this has to happen this way, I can bring you right back here and change the way it goes down, sidekick lives!” 

Hero’s eyes were shining, he knew it had to be a trap, but one glance as sidekick’s pale and somehow empty form he knew he had to do it, he was desperate, “I’ll do it, whatever it takes,” he swallowed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “if he lives I’ll do anything.” 

The antagonist smiled cruelly, “I know you will.” 

This was the place that it ended after all, for a person who’d dedicated his life to saving the world, hero’s decision in this very important moment was was started the end. 

Like grains of sand tumbling through an hourglass. 

You only have what you have what you have and then it’s over. 

Or not. 

Ack! I’m sorry! Thanks for the holiday wishes Anon! I really appreciate them! I ended up taking December off due to personal reasons, and thus missed your cheery greeting! I just didn’t want you to think I was ignoring your kind message! (The world was ignoring me in December). Any who, thank you so much for enjoying my trash-stuff, I love creating it! :D 

I hope your day is a field of violets, soft and sweet and gentle, “you’ve been too hard on yourself,” the flowers whisper, “it’s time for you to be happy where you are now instead of looking towards tomorrow, ya’know?” they nod their heads as a warm summer breeze blows combs through them, “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” 

They are right, you are worth something immeasurable even when you do nothing for other people. 

You are a field of blooming violets, daffodils, daisies, don’t let anyone treat you like you are not a field of flowers. 

Oh, Anon I thought you’d never ask, (Also I cannot accept that title, but gosh almighty I’m flattered, thank you Anon, you’re way too good to me!)  I’m a huge sucker for this prompt, I feel like it’s a trope we really don’t see enough. Everyone wants broken characters who forget everything about themselves and suffer until that’s all they are anymore (Don’t get me wrong, I like that too sometimes) but man, oh, man I love a good unbreakable whumpee staring at the whumper and just going: “No.” 

To sum up because I got super long winded:

Me: Big sucker

You: Really exceptional at submitting prompts/requests

I hope you get to be as happy today as you made me by requesting this! (That means standing in a forest far from the city and your flashlight burnt out, marveling at all of the silent darkness gathering around you comfortingly like a cloak. 

You superb forest spirit you. Live your dreams. 

(Also this came out a tad darker than I expected, but never let it be said I’m all cotton candy clouds and sunbeams and never gunmetal and alleyway gravel, I am gunmetal flavored cotton candy clouds goshdarnit!)

Also long, so sorry! (If for any reason this isn’t what you envisioned I can scratch this and do it again but slightly to the left, just let me know!) 

He’d been at it for three weeks. 

When he’d agreed to take this job it had seemed easy enough, get the message runner to turn on their friends, and collect fifty G’s for their troubles, and an additional ten for every address that the messenger coughed up. 

He expected to be able to induce one hell of a case of pneumonia in the delivery boy.  

The Whumper was meticulous, he’d done his research, the messenger didn’t come from a violent background, he had a solid head on his shoulders, and was a little on the younger side, all of this made getting information easier. 

He’d been proved correct when they’d grabbed them on the street, at the first growled threat of starting to attack bystanders the messenger had hardened up, clenched their mouth in a firm line, (as if he couldn’t see their lower lip tremble) and come quietly. Idealists were very easy to deal with if you knew how to get to them. 

And of course the man did. Sometimes when he was between jobs he wondered if he should teach a class: Interrogation for the financially unstable and morally questionable. He’d make a shit ton of money too, nobody was better than him, he’d gotten hardcore family guys to break in just 16 hours, they’d cried and begged for forgiveness afterward, but he’d informed them rather helpfully that he wasn’t a priest and that they could shove it. In fact he’d never met anyone he couldn’t get to turn inside of a week, and that was hardened career criminals! 

At least he hadn’t until he’d taken the messenger.

The man had been interrogating and enforcing for all sorts of people for almost twenty years now, working with the Foresters for almost ten, he’d gotten good at ‘reading the room’ so to speak. He’d expected the ‘canary’ to start singing long before he’d even gotten him to the abandoned motel on the outskirts of town, he seemed the skittish types, he had figured it wouldn’t even progress into too much violence, let alone anything heavy. 

This delivery boy was just a kid after all, some idealistic fool that had picked the wrong side in this when the Foresters had taken over. No biggie. 

But he’d been wrong, so wrong, for the first time in his career, now looking at him, still tired pitifully to the chair, hanging against the zip ties that held him there, not even seeming to care that they bit viciously into his skin. In short the guy was wrecked, beaten repeatedly until his upper body was mainly one solid bruise, a rainbow of muddy painful color and swelling, beaten until his eyes swelled almost closed and teeth were knocked out, beaten bloody and senseless time and time again. 

And still he’d said nothing!