hello! i love ur writing so so so much! i was wondering if i could request a snippet where the villain discovers the hero's self harm scars? if not, that's ok toođĽ°â¤ď¸ have a lovely day :))
âOh, darling.â The villainâs voice was much too soft.
The hero felt a sharp flicker of panic - they could have dealt with the villain mocking them - but they werenât entirely sure they could stomach that tone. Not when they were so bare, so vulnerable, so utterly exposed.Â
The hero couldnât even protest nor offer up any excuse or convincing lie; not with the gag in their mouth. This wasnât supposed to go like this after all. Â
It started when the villain had spied the marks on the heroâs arms - tearing the sleeve of their suit so that they could inject some nefarious substance or other. The bit had been so the hero didnât, apparently, bite through their own tongue.Â
The syringe had however been abandoned on the side the second the villain saw the heroâs skin. Despite the heroâs muffled protest, the villain had promptly cut open the other sleeve and, then, made short work of everything else.
The villainâs gaze roamed over them, taking it all in and the hero wanted to scream. The thought of anyone finding out had always been bad enough...but to have the villain of all people...and like this...
They jerked uselessly against the restraints, the flicker beginning to swell into full blown panic.Â
The villain ghosted their fingers across the marks, with that same terrible gentleness. The hero flinched, even if it didnât hurt - maybe because it didnât. They didnât know. The heroâs muscles tightened taut with stress, with the urge to bolt and the complete inability to.
If they could run the villain would never even have seen this far.Â
The villainâs gaze moved up, catching the heroâs wide-eyed stare.Â
âI know what scars Iâve left on you, hero.â The word, âheroâ, didnât carry the mockery it normally did. âI know what kind of scars people get doing what we do. This...â their grip tightened, and their nails dug in. âThis is not that.â
The heroâs fingers curled into fists, breath hitching. They did their utmost to keep their expression composed. Their mind raced; trying to figure out what the villain would do. Well, what could they do? They didnât know what the villain even intended with this, now. What would they possibly care what the hero did in their free time? Yet, clearly, they cared. Otherwise they wouldnât have set the syringe down they would have continued business as normal.Â
The villain reached up after a moment, taking the bit out and setting that aside too.Â
The hero wrenched their gaze away, working out their jaw. They could have spoken now but they said nothing. Anger churned with the panic. The villain had no right to expect an explanation from them, if that was what they were waiting for?Â
âControl, punishment or something else?â
The even question snapped the heroâs stare back, in surprise. The villainâs voice had gone even again, instead of that horrible âhandle with careâ softness.Â
âWhat?â it came out raspy.Â
The villain tapped one of the scars. âDo you do it to feel in control of something, to punish yourself, or something else?âÂ
âWhatâs it to you? Youâve literally got me tied to a chair.â
âYour enemies hurting you is very different to doing it to yourself. You cannot control your enemies, but nor would you expect them to be kind.â
âI swear if you of all people are going to start a lecture about being kind to myself.â The heroâs eyes burned, hot and embarrassed. They really hoped they didnât start crying.Â
âIf you answer my question Iâll stop pestering you about it.â
The hero looked down, considering their options, really not wanting to talk about it with them. Still. âIt makes my head shut up. Happy?â
âHappy is an interesting word choice given the topic of conversation, but I accept your answer, yes.â
âSo youâre going back to whatever is in your nightmare syringe?â
âItâs a serum to limit your powers.â
âOh.âÂ
âI did tell you.â
âYour monologues are very wordy and scientific. I get bored.â
The villain snorted. Still, they stayed crouching in front of the hero, studying them quietly.Â
â...youâre not going back to stabbing me with the nightmare syringe?â
âDo you want me to stab you with the nightmare syringe?â
âNo. Obviously not.â
The villain did not look entirely convinced.Â
The hero gritted their teeth. âThis is bothering you,â they said. âKnowing this about me. Iâm not - Iâm not suicidal, or anything. You can still get around to killing me yourself or - or whatever.â They faltered as the villain continued to stare at them. âWhat?â
âYou make it a little too easy to forget youâre human, sometimes, hero.â The villain rose up to their feet. âStay put.â
âStay - you have me tied to a chair. Where are you going?!â
"I need to think,â the villain said. âAnd possibly punch something. And then, if youâre willing, I have some ideas on what might help.â
âYou - what - hey!âÂ
The hero sat there, bewildered, at the sound of the next room being thoroughly destroyed.Â
Nothing was quite the same after that.
The hero finds out one day that the villain is âcheatingâon his girlfriend with him. But what he doesnât know is that the villainâs girlfriend is abusive. When they are fighting the next time, the villainâs usually covered wrists, reveals a dark mark, that the hero sees. The villain tells him everything. The next day, the girlfriend doesnât see the rise of the sun.
âIf you knew what it was like to have your parents hate you the moment you were born, you would know how I feel.â The villain murmured against the heroâs lips, so close. The hero swallowed. They pulled back a little, putting space between them. The villain still held on to their shirtâs collar.
âI donât know. I donât know how you feel. What itâs like to be in your place. But, I can assure that I would never use it as an excuse to hurt other people.â The hero said. Their voice quivering at the edge. They tried to make distance between their bodies, but the villain just pulled them closer.
âThen, tell me. Tell me how itâs like to be a hero. To be someone every person loves, adores even. It must be easy.â The villain hissed. Their voice rough, and stern.
The hero snorted. âIt is not as easy as you think.â Their hands moved, closing on the villainâs wrist. And, they slowly pulled it away from their collar with a firmness that made the villain falter. âBecause, when you are expected to save the world, the only thing that matters is whether you can do your job or not.â
The villain laughed, a humorless sound. Their expression turned painful.
đcredit me if you use thisđ
By @writingpromptsworld
âWhat if I told you that I loved you to the moon and back?â The villain asked with a cheeky grin. Their hand gently carded through the heroâs hair, massaging the scalp gently.
The hero chuckled lowly, putting down the book they were reading. âIâd say youâre a sap. Which is not a good combination along with being a villain.â
The villain smirked, snorting. âOh yeah? Then why did you agree to marry me when I said that exact same line to propose you?â
âBecause you were proposing me in front of the whole city. Itâd embarrassing to reject you. I did it to save my reputation.â The hero sighed.
âSo you admit it was a good line?â The villain questioned, perking their eyebrows up with a laugh as they lean down to give a kiss on the heroâs forehead.
âYeah, yeah. You got me all wooed.â The hero admitted with a smile, bringing the villainâs hand down to their mouth to smooch it.
âOops, Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to spill your coffee Mist-âŚâ the hero trailed off, his eyes locking with a familiar face. There stood the villain, frozen in place. âWhat are you doing here?â The hero asked, bringing back his voice that was abruptly cut off midway.
âI could ask the same. This is my area, so what are you doing here?â The villain threw back. The barista behind the counter looked between them. The hero sensed it, and was glad that the villain wore a mask all the time so no one would be able to recognize him.
The hero quickly apologized to the barista, ignoring the villainâs eyes on him. He picked up some tissues and cleaning the floor. The drink had only spilled a little, so it didnât take long to wipe it. He then grabbed the villain by his arm, and took him outside the cafe. The villain followed him with both of his eyebrows shot up.
âSince when was this your area? And, anyway it doesnât matter. You shouldnât be roaming around in a place like a cafe, you can get caught. You donât want that, do you?â The hero questioned, looking around. His lips pressed together in a firm line.
âNow, why would you care if I get caught, hmm?â The villain shot back, suddenly appearing smug. He carefully pushed the hero backwards to the wall. âUnless, of course, you fear that youâll miss me if they take me away.â He murmured, inching his face slowly near the heroâs.
The hero gave a grin, âExactly, Iâd miss you too much if they take you away from me. I would miss your face, your lips, yourâŚâ His eyes tracked down, making the villain widen his eyes and face, flush.
âNot a promptâ
It was almost three a.m. when the heroâs phone rang. They groaned loudly before reaching across the night table, and fetching it. They had no idea who could be calling right now, and honestly, they couldnât give a shit. Because, they had come home around two in the morning and went straight to bed, exhausted and bone-tired.
They brought the phone to their ears anyway, without checking the caller ID. âHello?â
âI miss you.â Were the words spoken in an almost a slur of a tone. The heroâs mind seemed to not process the words for a moment.
âWhat?â They asked.
âI miss you.â The person repeated a little more loudly. And the hero made out who it was. The villain.
âIâwhat?â
The villain whined, and a slump could be heard, followed by a grumble from them. âI miss you, hero.â They draw out, and from their voice, the hero could make out that the villain was drunk.
The hero pressed their lips. âDo you know what time it is? Where are you? Are you drunk?â They questioned, sitting up.
âIâm homeâŚI think.â The villain slurred, and then sighed. âAre you home?â They asked dumbly.
The hero frowned. âOf course Iâm home.â
âCan you come to me? I wanna see you.â They mumbled, and even though the hero couldnât see them, they could imagine the villain was pouting.
The hero sighed. âStay where you are. Iâm coming.â
âOkay...can you stay on the phone?â The villain asked.
The hero got out of their bed, âNo. Iâll be driving. But Iâll be there in no time.â
The villain grumbled something under their breath about hero being all goody two shoes and never breaking the laws before hanging up.
When the hero got there, the villain was sleeping peacefully, and they got in bed with them, the villain instantly cuddling up to them.
âGet your hands off of me, I donât need your help.â The hero grunted, moving backwards. The arm hurt where the bullet was pierced by the supervillain. But, fortunately the villain ran him away. Telling the supervillain that heâs got the hero âunder his controlâ, the hero had rolled his eyes at that. The supervillain was hesitant, however, backed off. Giving the villain a secret nod, that the hero definitely saw. And, then he vanished.
The villain raised his eyebrows, retreating his hands. His expression exasperated. If he didnât stop the bleeding soon, it will lead to the hero dying in less than 10 minutes. He could not afford the heroâs death. âStop protesting, will you? Just let me help you, please. I know-âŚhow to treat a gunshot wound, okay?â His eyes were so soft, that the hero almost couldnât believe it.
The hero stayed silent. His eyes felt heavy, his head foggy. He strained to focus on one thing. The villain was right. He felt helpless in the moment. Deciding that he should let the villain take over, he muttered a small, âfine.â The villain went to get a cold wet towel, with a first-aid kit that looked quite too used. He sighed, once the villain came back.
The villainâs hands were cold against his warm skin, and he took a deep breath. âTalk to me, you have to stay awake until I finish this. Take deep breaths. In and out. In and out.â The hero wrestled himself to follow the villainâs commands. âYes, youâre doing good.â When the villain was finished, he smiled at the hero.
The hero whispered, âThank you.â He still struggled to breathe properly, but seeing the villainâs smile gave him some comfort and, perhaps, a little ease.
âCredit me if use thisâ
The hero smiled softly, while walking to the sleeping body on his couch. His hands held a soft blanket, imprinted with little lions and tigers. He draped it over the villain, gently. The villain instinctively turned towards him in his sleep, cuddling up in the comfort.
The hero gave a quick kiss to the villainâs forehead, and went to make cookies for when the villain wakes up.
âPlease credit me if use this in your writingâ
The hero screamed in agony as the blood oozed out of his body, and into the pool of liquid beside him. His voice echoed in the empty vast sky, and then nothing. An anguished silence. And then, a thud. He fell on his back, the villain going out of his vision for a second.
As if on cue, or maybe it was just mocking him, it started raining. Heavy droplets made his eyes so heavy, he fought to open them. The villain stayed where he was, a knife dripping blood mixed with the rain, onto the wet ground. The hero's breathing slowed.
"Why." He choked, his body nearly tearing itself apart by the force it took to say that. He shivered, the coldness of the raindrops getting to him. He tried inhaling. His lungs hurt, and his heart more. The villain dropped to his knees, his eyes filling with tears. He bawled. The hero's ears rang with the noise.
"I love you, but...but I couldn't. I couldn't be better for you. Loving me comes with a price." The villain rasped, he dropped the knife and walked to the lying figure. His gaze crossed with the hero's as he continued, "This is the price." The hero's heart clenched. He had failed. Failed to change the villain. Failed to save him. Failed to save himself. Failed himself. He breathed out last time, before his body gave up.
(Not me listening to "Stalker's Tango" by Autoheart while writing this. The song goes perfectly with it though)
"Have you seen my black hoodie? I've searched for ages, now." The villain groaned, ruffling his hair. Frustrated. The hero hid a smile, as they realized which hoodie the other one was talking about.
"Oh yeah? What does it look like?" The hero questioned, faking an innocent expression.
"The one that has Spiderman on it." The villain responded, throwing himself in one of the couches and turning the TV on. The hero chuckled quietly.
"Hmm, I think I have it." The hero smiled, and the villain spun his head around to glare at him.
"You better give it back, you little shit. It's my comfort hoodie, for fuck's sake!" The villain cried. The hero surrendered.
"Sorry, sorry. If you want comfort, I can wear it and then we could cuddle. I'll give it back after that. How does that sound?" The hero asked, grinning. The villain blushed and then nodded bashfully.
(Pathetic villain x confident herođ)
âYou knowâŚyouâre pretty pathetic.â The hero said, as they bandaged their wounded hand, ready to fight. The villainâs eyebrows perked up, they eyed the wound on the heroâs arm before meeting their eyes.
âExcuse me?â They said, a little sharply, their eyes narrowing. They took a few steps forward to the hero.
The hero chuckled. âYou are, villain.â
âNo, Iâm not.â
âYou follow me, you make sure I donât go on dates with other people, you make sure that I eat and sleep. And make sure that Iâm safe. You knowâŚIâm not a baby.â The hero mused, their eyes tumbling, and their mouth drawn up into a smile.
âWell, what does that have to do with me being pathetic?â The villain asked, frowning. Their lips turned upside down in confusion. They were so so adorable, the hero thought. And so so wrong.
âItâs pathetic that you think all of those things are going to make me yours. That I would stop having a normal life and be with you.â The hero revealed, glancing up. Their smile was gone, leaving a cold expression, and even colder eyes.
The villain didnât move, it was as if their world stopped. Their time faltered, and their breath slowed, almost to a degree to where they struggled to breathe properly. This revelationâŚwas not what they wanted. Not what they expected. No. That couldnât happen. They wouldnât let it happen. They wouldnât let the hero slip through their fingers. They were theirs.
They glanced up, their eyes horrified at heroâs words. The hero came forward, their hands behind their back, with a blank yet smug expression on their face. It was as if they knew just what kind of effect they had on the villain. They stopped inches away.
âYou will be with me. You belong to me.â The villain defended angrily like a child not wanting to let go of their favorite toy. The hero shook their head. The villain fumed even more. âNoâŚNo, youâre going to be with me. Weâll be together forever. You canât possibly do this to me!â
The hero only perked their eyebrows up, amused. They donât say anything for a while, making the villain even more anxious and furious. The hero spoke up after a moment: âYou knowâŚthe first time we fought, I could see you falling. Not only from that building but also for me. I was delighted, because then I knew I could make the strongest villain fall to their knees for me with a snap of my fingers. You were so easy. And I used that to save thousands, if not millions.â The hero finished, their voice carrying hints of pride that the villain could pick out.
The villainâs head was heavy with the realization, confusion, and so much sadness and rage. They fainted.
A writer in a slump. Requests are open. | If you use any of my prompts, Iâd like you to tag me. Main blog: @me-writes-prompts
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