I Love You Misunderstood Villain Whos Been Through The Worst Kind Of Hell And Wasnt Able To Come Out

I love you misunderstood villain who’s been through the worst kind of hell and wasn’t able to come out of it unscarred.

I love you villain who is well understood and just likes doing bad things for pure pleasure.

I love you villain who is loved by the fandom.

I love you villain who is hated by the fandom.

I love you villain who has to cry alone and lick their wounds in the dark because they’re too scared to let anybody see them vulnerable.

I love you villain who’s not scared to shout all their pain and trauma at the top of their lungs for the world to hear.

I love you villain who’s on their knees begging to be accepted and loved for once.

I love you villain who never bows down to anyone.

I love you villain who hides their scars like their deep, dark secrets.

I love you villain who shows their scars like trophies from the battles they won.

I love you villain who wants to create a better world, even if their way of trying to achieve the goal is different than hero’s.

I love you villain who wants to burn the world down.

I don’t do that Anti Shit in my house

Hii I absolutely love your writing!

I know you just posted it..butt I was wondering in you could make another part of #270 ? The prompt From @some-messed-up-writing-for-you

(The one with the rich supervillain and the reporter who somehow knew the villain was dating sv for 8 months)

Thank you so much!! It's taken a couple days but here's part two!

For any new readers, you can read Part One here!

A steady wrap on Villain's steel door resonated in all four walls of their apartment, sending a vague little shock into their bedframe where it pressed against the wall.

Villain untangled themself from their mess of thick blankets and stumbled to the window, peeking warily from a space below the curtains. Supervillain stood on the landing in sunglasses and a white, double-breasted wool coat. If they were anyone else, Villain would have pegged them as lost or stupid for walking around this part of town so richly dressed. But seeing as this was Supervillain, they worried more for the petty thugs that might mistake them for an easy target.

Villain yanked the chain off the door, flinging it open wide enough that they could properly throw themselves around Supervillain's neck. "Supervillain!"

One of Supervillain's hands went to the small of their back and the other to their face as they dipped down and pressed their mouth to Villain's. Their shampoo, mouth spray, and cologne blended in a fragrant harmony of pinewood, peppermint, and jasmine that made Villain heady. They were roughly dropped back to reality as Supervillain abruptly pulled back.

"Did you just get up?" Supervillain asked.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Morning breath." Their nose wrinkled involuntarily as they said it, and Villain's face warmed.

They loosed their hold on Supervillain and scanned their apartment. Toothbrush, toothbrush. Before they got two steps, Supervillain reeled them back for a second, longer kiss. A few moments later they held them out in front of themself and thumbed some leftover foundation out from under their eye.

"And you're still wearing last night's makeup?"

"The bathroom was taken when I got home and I was tired." Between Villain and the complex's 7 other tenants, the bathroom was a coveted commodity. Since sharing was dicey, they often found different facilities, public restrooms and gym showers, but all of them were still always fighting for the convenience of a restroom right outside their door. Villain had not been in the mood for a screaming match through the door at 12:30 a.m. nor for sitting outside holding their place in line for who knew how many hours.

"Remind me why you won't let me put you up in a better apartment?" Supervillain said, passing over the apartment's threshold and flicking off their sunglasses to glance around distastefully at their stained floors and scanty furnishment.

"I like the neighborhood?" Villain tried.

"Ah, yes, the killers and cutthroats, wonderful neighbors."

"You're one to talk," Villain said.

Supervillain sat down in one of the wicker chairs at Villain's wobbly table and crossed their ankle over their knee. "Hm. I wonder if any real comparison can be made between a diamond and a stone. This place is a birthing place for mediocrity. Just chunks of worthless mineral crumbling off the same barren cliffside."

"Stones like me?"

"There's always a vein of gold mixed in with the gangue," Supervillain waved nonchalantly, then more intensely, "Why would you even say that? You seemed happy to see me a moment ago and now you're angry again? Is it still about last night? I know it was hard on you. Let me make it up to you."

"I'm not angry." Slightly annoyed maybe, but not angry. What right did they have to anger when Supervillain was about to find out just how massively they'd screwed up?

"What do you want?" Supervillain asked, surrounded by an air of confidence that they could provide anything Villain wished. "Clothes? Jewels? Car? You're always browsing those motor scooters on your phone. Oh! Do you want a new phone, baby?"

A part of Villain faltered at the temptation. It was just so easy for them. Two taps on their phone, and they could have Villain's dreams already ordered and shipped. But the part of Villain containing their pride resisted. The same pride that kept them in this dump and gave them a fighting chance with Supervillain when they were still nothing more than a feisty two-face in tired clothing. They couldn't bear being dependent on anyone. It made them feel small and pitiful. In any case, even if they could convince themselves that an expensive gift was payment for yesterday's torture, the guilt gnawing in their stomach wouldn't allow it.

"Supervillain," Villain said quietly. "I need to talk to you."

The self-assured curve of Supervillain’s mouth lowered into a frown, and their fist tightened on their knee. "If you're breaking up with me, I want my kiss back." They said it with humor, but the edges of their tone were sharp and chilling.

"No!" Villain seized their white-knuckled fist in both hands. "It's nothing like that."

Supervillain visibly relaxed, leaning forward on their elbows to cup Villain's jaw as they knelt in front of them. Their eyes urged--no, commanded--them to explain further.

"I..." Villain played with Supervillain's fingers. "I messed up. I really really messed up, and I should've said something last night, but I wasn't completely sure, but now... Supervillain, I'm so sorry."

"Love, you're not making any sense."

"Last night, when you left me on the balcony, a reporter talked to me. He was nice, so I let my guard down. At one point, he mentioned something about us dating for eight months. I didn't deny it. I didn't even realize until later that he'd said it. He knew, or at least suspected, and now because of me, he knows we were lying."

Supervillain reclined back in their chair in a fit of chuckles. "That's what you're so worried about? Villain, it's a reporter tactic. They trick you into agreeing in passing to something they've made up and then they blow it up in the papers. I do wish you'd told me yesterday so I could have gotten ahead of the press, little hope of that now, but if that's it, we can just deny it. Say you were confused. He can’t do any real damage.”

"Yes, he can," Villain moaned.

"No."

"He can. There's more."

"Ok, what else?"

"It was Dean Ashley. He works for Lime Light Magazine."

Supervillain raised their eyebrows. "Yes, I'm familiar with him."

Villain spilled out the rest as quickly as they could. "Eight months is a really exact guess. It made me wonder how he could have known. So I thought about everyone who knew about our real relationship. And the only option-- Well, I compared pictures last night. It's the same chin, same eyes. He uses different speech patterns as a civilian, but now that I know, his voice itself is practically unchanged."

"What are you talking about?" Supervillain said, stern enough to make Villain swallow and focus on the point.

"He's Hero."

Supervillain's reaction was like a kettle coming to a boil.

"You're telling me," he started calmly, "that you spoke to Hero. On the very night we dedicated to eradicating any and all public doubts, you spoke to Hero and CONFIRMED EVERYTHING?! YOU REVEALED OUR IDENTITIES? MY IDENTITY?"

"I didn't mean to!"

Supervillain ripped out of Villain's grip, looming over them like a winter storm. "DO YOU THINK THAT MATTERS? 'It was an accident.' 'I'm sorry.' Do you think 'I'm sorry' changes the fact that the only person who could actually prove something knows everything? It's only a matter of time before I wake up to my face plastered on every screen and magazine cover with a big bold headline: BILLIONAIRE BADDIE! You know to look for the tricks in people's wording! How could you have been so careless? Because he was nice?"

"I was tired!" Villain defended weakly, feeling the tears well hot in their eyes.

"It was one party!"

"It's not that easy for me!"

"Why?" Supervillain demanded. "You can pull an all-nighter for a flawless heist, hustle cops without batting an eye, build an explosive under high-pressure, what could possibly be so difficult about standing around and dancing?"

All the frustration Villain had swallowed yesterday, half-dissolved and unsettling their stomach like a disagreeable hard candy, rushed up their throat and burst past their lips. "I was tired of erasing myself for your reputation!"

Supervillain stopped short, contorted expression freezing in harsh lines. "What?"

Villain grabbed the legs of their sweats in handfuls. “I get it. Obviously, the real me is a horrendous match for [SV Civilian Name]. But I wasn’t expecting that I’d have to sell a person as well as story. I can’t turn my personality off and on the way you do. Being someone else is hard. Can you blame me for falling for the first trick that let me be me?” They held up their hands quickly. “And I’m not trying to excuse myself. I know that I screwed up. I just…well… It hurts being nothing but a coverup. Like I’m a hollow shell for show and nothing else to it.”

A poignant silence filled the air, accented by the shrill of cold wind coming through a space in the window. Villain couldn’t meet Supervillain eyes but they could feel their gaze boring into them.

“Villain,” they said finally. “Why do you think I told you to use your real name?”

“So I could use my own ID. Saves you from looking like your hiding something if anyone ever digs too deep. My civilian name is a dead end, but if they notice a fake name they might get too curious.”

"You really think a reporter could untangle an alias I’ve designed? If I wanted to give you a new identity, I would have given you a new identity.”

It was Villain’s turn to stare.

Supervillain crouched down in front of them, the ends of their coat spreading out behind them like the train of a king’s robe. “For the year I've known you, my life has been split in two. One public, one secret. No cross-over. It was non-negotiable. But putting you in the ‘secret’ category has always been my biggest vexation. You say it’s hard to be someone else, well, it was hard for me to treat you like something shameful. When the truth is...”

Villain awaited the next words hungrily, but Supervillain simply rubbed the bridge of their nose and started anew. The disorder of their thoughts was surprising. The master criminal was usually so expert and smooth at, well, everything.

“I needed big news for my reputation, that is true. But more importantly, I didn’t want to hide you anymore. I needed a way to insert you into my public life. A way to spend time with you anywhere I want without worrying whether it will all crash down on me. One carefully selected cross-over that wouldn't cause any harm--" They stopped again. "And that's what Hero noticed." They let out a long sigh. "It's not your fault."

"But I’m the one who talked to Hero. If I had been more aware—”

Supervillain wiped the remaining tears out of their eyes. “I’m the one that made him suspicious. If you hadn’t confirmed anything he would have kept looking.”

Villain’s bottom lip trembled, and they buried their face in Supervillain’s chest, the white wool scratchy on their cheek. A sudden thought jolted them out of the warmth.

“What about Hero?”

“Well, my little genius, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t expecting you to figure out his secret identity while he was uncovering ours. We’ll give Dean Ashley a little call. I wonder how he’ll react to the idea of his name being dropped to every villain in this city. I’m sure we can come to some agreement.”

Part Three

This is lirjvijIVKWVKWEDSVJKlvk

I love it when a villain's behavior starts to soften cutely in their intimidating look.

I love the prompt, the characters, and the aggressive kissing. Like danm assistant you can give a straight answer, but ain't it so entertaining for us.

Ok, so since my first response to this post kinda went its own direction, I decided to give this prompt a second try. The prompt is originally by @gingerly-writing (I will write it in purple to separate it from the rest of the text).

"Oh," said the supervillain. Quietly. Too quietly. "I see. Kissing me was just a distraction."

"No! Well, yes, but...it's not like that!"

"Oh? So explain how it is. Quickly."

"Well...you see..." The supervillain's assistant fumbled for the right words. Which proved rather difficult when there seemed to be no right words to come by. How did one even begin to explain this dangerous, messy, swell of feeling expanding in their chest right now? A feeling that they still weren't sure should be encouraged or stamped out.

They'd never thought so much of themselves to imagine a relationship with the city's greatest criminal. They had been perfectly content standing on the sidelines, taking notes and fetching coffee with cream. They probably would have kept doing such, an important but unnoticed cog that kept their superior's life going smoothly. That is if it weren't for their stupid, idiot, ditz of a brother.

Their sibling had never been the brightest, sacrificing their own needs for others and putting silly morals ahead of good sense. Unlike the protagonist, who knew when to bluff and when to sell out, their brother was always so desperate to be right. As if there was even a true right in this crooked world.

And of course, they just had to go into hero work. Just had to go up against their boss of all people and put the protagonist's neck on the line. It wasn't like they were going to let the supervillain see them. Thinking back, there were probably a thousand less compromising things the assistant could have done for a distraction. Maybe that was a sign they'd been interested long before that messy, tooth-clashing first kiss. Could they sell that to the supervillain?

"Well...I did enjoy it."

The supervillain sighed, raising a crooked finger to the ever-present guards against the back wall.

"W-wait!" the protagonist cried. "I lied one time! One! As if you've never done the same!"

"My lies usually don't include so much tongue."

Their assistant blushed. "I was going for alluring. If it helps, the second kiss was more my style."

A sweet, soft thing that tasted of vanilla creamer, so much sweeter because it was alone and after hours. A coffee order that usually wouldn't have happened if the supervillain hadn't been intent on getting them on their own.

"A half-truth meant to appease me," the supervillain said with bitter-tipped nonchalance.

Maybe. The protagonist had walked into that trap willingly to keep up the pretenses of the first kiss, but they'd never planned any further than that. They certainly hadn't planned on the supervillain's clumsy small talk, or the way they held them so gently. Criminal overlords weren't supposed to be like that, were they? They were supposed to beat nobodies like them senseless for their audacity. Or use them up until they were a hollowed husk of their old self. They weren't supposed to be...cute.

"But still true," the protagonist argued. "I didn't know you would actually start to like me."

Not just cute. Soft. It was apparent within the first month that they were far more vulnerable then their villainous persona let on. 

Were they hurting a lot right now? Did the protagonist actually mean that much to them? Or was it simply the humiliation of having an employee play their feelings so effortlessly for an advantage? Had to be hard to face up to with the entire organization staring at them. They'd probably have to deal their assistant an especially hard hand to patch all the open wounds in their reputation.

"I was just trying to save someone close to me," the protagonist said, not certain whether the explanation made the situation any better. "After that, I was just trying to survive.''

"The hero."

Ah, so they did know. Probably shouldn't be a surprise seeing how they'd come to the truth in some way or another. The tone was a little strange though. They weren't quite certain whether it was jealousy or general disdain.

"How--"

"Security cameras," Supervillain said coldly. "You might have kept me from seeing them with my own eyes, but you didn't keep them off film. I didn't notice for a while; I was...otherwise diverted, but yesterday... But perhaps that was your plan all along."

The assistant couldn't hold back their scoff. "You really think I'm the type of person who can cling onto someone for literal months to hide a little recording?"

"Well, I think we've established that we don't really know each other. Apparently, you think I'm the type of person who wouldn't have taken a simple, 'I'm not interested' for an answer. You could have done it right at the start. You still would have been caught, but you would have benefited from me not feeling like this."

"How do you feel?"

Stupid. Stupid. Was that really important when the protagonist was simply trying to walk out of here alive? Why should they even care? Like the supervillain said, it wasn't like any of it was real enough to stake feelings on anyway.

They felt the the two suited security guards hovering at their back, looming and dicomfortingly close. They had paused uncertainly as the back-and-forth got started, maybe not quite sure if the signal to take the assistant away still stood. Now, finally, the supervillain gave them an unquestionably clear order.

"Go." Their voice dripped with a venom not intended for them. "I'll call if I need you."

The guards seemed almost relieved to comply, letting out held breaths and moving quickly but crisply toward the exit. 

For some reason, as the door clacked gently shut behind them, the assistant felt more nervous. Especially with the criminal's eyes burning into them like hot coals.

“You want to know how I feel?” the supervillain said.

The protagonist shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me…”

"I'm angry.”

"Understandable." The assistant flinched back a step from the furvor, though it proved pointless as the supervillain mirrored their retreat with a stalking step forward.

"And confused." 

"Of course."

"I want to tear my heart out of my chest. And yours."

The assistant blinked. That was...a reaction.

They tried shoving down some the sharp regret stabbing up through lungs, making it suddenly painful and hard to breath. So the supervillain had liked them that much. That was sort of a shame. Under other circumstances perhaps...well, it didn't matter now. They'd messed it all up. Actually, they hadn’t even really began. So they really shouldn’tbe worrying about the supervillain, they should just be worrying about themself.

"I don't know if I'm worth all that. We could just end this like two mature adults, starting with you letting me out of the building."

The supervillain narrowed their eyes. "You still haven't said it."

"What?" 

"I don't know why I expected any different. You always give me everything but a clear answer."

"I wasn't aware you asked me a question?" the assistant said, glancing over their shoulder and estimating just how quickly they could make a run for the door. 

The supervillain stepped forward, bringing their shiny black Derbys toe to toe with the assistant's ragged loafers. Nimble fingers took them by the chin, turning their face from escape to their burning carbon eyes. "Do you like me or not?"

The assistant could only stare.

"You say it was just one lie, and the way you talk doesn't close any doors, but then there's your hero and the infuriating fact that you can't come up with an ardent, overdramatic speech to salvage the relationship. I can't figure you out. Do you want out or not?"

"Wait..." the assistant held up their hands in front of them. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you not trying to kill me?"

The supervillain spluttered incredulously. "Kill you?"

"What?" the assistant cried, thoroughly confused by this point. What were the security guards and the ominous call to their office in the middle of the workday if it wasn't their life on the line?

"We kissed! I still have feelings for you! I can't kill you now. Maybe later up the road, but not anytime soon."

"You’re throwing me in secret prison then?"

"I'm only firing you."

"Oh." The protagonist took that in for a moment. "I suppose that's fair."

"Yes. The question that remains is do we continue seeing each other after I fire you? So please be explicitly clear. You like me. Yes or no?"

The protagonist hesitated, wetting their lips a moment before hesitantly wrapping their arm's around the supervillain's neck. "I thought that much was obvious."

"Clearer."

The protagonist pressed their lips softly to the supervillain's mouth.

"Clearer," the supervillain murmured, breath tickling sweet against their lips.

"I like you an extremely dangerous amount. To a point I'm afraid to say out loud. If you never say it, it never happened, right?"

The supervillain sighed. "You're the most infuriating, noncommittal... Your hero?"

"My brother."

"Your..." A burst of spontaneous laughter escaped the master criminal's previously tight lips. "I think that's the best news I've heard all day. Well, aside from that first bit."

Their hands settled warm and familiar against the small of the assistant's back, holding them firmly, yet carefully in place. 

Was it really over that fast? Could ugly, terrifying things like this actually happen and turn out ok? Hero would probably say yes. They believed in forgiveness and conquering love and all that nonsense. That wasn't what the protagonist chose when they joined this side. They chose cold, hard truth.

They pressed their palms against the supervillain's shoulders, pushing slightly back from them. "I hurt you."

It wasn't a real question, but nevertheless, the supervillain seemed to understand.

"And I'm still mad. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the moment." Their smile faltered and their voice quieted again. "You...are telling the truth, right? Honestly?"

The protagonist's insides twisted uncomfortably, a mixture of guilt and aversion to such unfamiliar openness.

"Yes."

The supervillain nodded, enfolding them back in their arms. "I might check in with you every once in a while. Just to be sure.” 

“Yeah,” they agreed, still dazed. They pressed their face into the criminal’s shirt, breathing in the scent of fresh linen to assure themselves this was all real. “You’re really letting this go? How can you do that? How are you ever going to trust me again?”

Supervillain kissed the top of their head, a little more aggressively than normal, but still probably kinder than they deserved. “With time.”

Maybe in time they could learn to trust too.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

okay so:

I had a dream about this one idea where everyone makes fun of villain for whatever reason. Villain starts to believe all those things, still feels terrible of course, but finds it easier to deal with it all when they just accept those "jokes" as truth.

But well, since I'm a sucker for villain x villain stuff, Supervillain swoops in to help them out of their misery

Thanks a lot in advance and have a wonderful day ❤️♥️

*Me reading this ask*

My villain x supervillain heart can’t resist. (May just be my favorite ship, even more than hero x villain. Just something about two crime-hardened people being soft for each other)

CW: Bullying, panic attack

"Smile~," the hero said, the big black eye of their phone camera reflecting Villain's queasy face.

The colors were muted, but even so, their skin was far too pale. Their lips seized somewhere between a grimace and a glare. A scribbled line of a mouth that gated off the burn rising in the back of their throat and anything else that might let it loose, even their own words of defense.

They didn't even know who this hero was. They were just some start-up who jumped them in one of the back allies. What was worse was this wasn't the first time. Not even close. Every hero seemed to have eyes on them these days. Even some civilians got the courage to gang up together and get in on the fun.

"Come on," the hero insisted, pouting their lips like they were talking to a baby. "Just one little smile."

Villain swallowed hard on the bile, wincing at the way it scalded on the way down, and shakily rose the corners of their lips. This was fine. It was just a stupid trend. People would forget about it soon. And maybe it was funny. Villain certainly had never met anyone else with such an...interesting reaction to fear. People liked it because it was weird. It was just a joke.

Villain's eyes burned. They'd been wearing these contacts for too long. The wetness pricking in the corner of their eyes stung like salt in a wound.

Wait. Wetness? Were they crying?

No, please. Not now. Not here. Not with their hands bound to a back alley waterspout and this vigilante nobody putting them on their live stream for the whole world to laugh at.

"Aww, why are you crying, buddy? You're just fine. I mean, I've barely touched you aside from those bonds. You're not actually frightened already are you?"

Logically, Villain should be fine. They'd won against stronger heroes than this idiot. So why couldn't they move?

“N-no…” Villain choked weakly. They had meant to shout it, but as soon as their mouth was open, they felt any force on their stomach muscles would be their doom.

Their heart pounded in their ears at this point and it was hard to get enough air with their mouth clamped shut. Dark spots flecked their vision, but the alternative seemed much worse.

No, Villain wasn't frightened. They were terrified.

This hero might be a rookie, but Villain didn't know them. They didn't know what they were going to do to them. Whether this joke extended further than their humiliation. What their limits were. And it was the same story with most of their attackers these last three months. Ever since a reporter caught Villain puking on video in response to Other Hero pinning them in a corner and nearly killing them. They should be somewhat thankful for that; Other Hero's shock had given them the few seconds needed to escape. But in this moment, with so many people talking, so many people watching...it was hard not to see that as a catalyst for a nightmare.

It wasn't the only thing of course...there were also the tics: handwringing during monologues, giving up on schemes when it turned out none of the heroes they were used to were coming, etc. Half a villain the media called them. Because some part of them must be a hero for how much they foiled themself.

Yeah...maybe that was funny. Maybe Villain just needed to understand the joke better, and they would stop being so scared. Maybe if they just went along, things would get better.

"Alright, viewers," the hero said cheerily, "what do you say we spice things up a little."

They moved in closer, and Villain huddled back against the brick wall behind them.

"Now, now, don't freak out. I'm just going to ask questions, and you're going to tell us some things. Things we've all been curious about. Like why you do it."

Villain squeezed their eyes shut as if doing so could hide them from the hero's prickling smirk. They didn't want to talk about this. They didn't want to talk about this. They didn't want to--

"Get that phone out of their face before I choke you with it."

Villain wasn't sure who said it, but there was a yelp and the scrape of two pairs of shoes scuffling in the gravel, and then the pounding of one pair running away. When they opened their eyes, the hero was gone. In their place stood a face they'd only seen on television. Well-dressed, unnaturally attractive, and sharp, diamond-cutting eyes boring into their soul: Supervillain.

Villain gaped. People like Villain didn't just run into people like Supervillain. Maybe they were both criminals, but they were in completely different classes. Supervillain was untouchable. They didn't even bother hiding when they went out because not even the heroes had developed a good protocol to stop them. The media compared them to a cat swatting at flys.

And now they were right here. This...this was...

They doubled over and vomited into their own lap.

Nooo.

The shame blanketed them in a hot haze, and their upper lip went cool with a gathering sheen of sweat. Villain twisted away from Supervillain's face before they could see their disgusted expression. "I'm sorry. I--" They scrunched small and pressed their forehead against the cool brick, swallowing the sour taste trapped in the dry of their mouth several times before mustering up a few more words. "Thank you. Thank you, but... Please go."

"That must hurt." Gentle fingers touched their raw wrists where the ropes pinched and scraped. Something cold and metal laid across Villain's forearm and pressed through the small space beneath the bonds.

Villain flinched and whirled their head back around just in time to see the rope slacken and flutter to the gravel. They stared at the mess of frayed cord for several moments before forcing their gaze toward the master criminal.

Supervillain twirled the long blade back into a holster on their side. A moment later, they unclipped their cape and swept it around Villain's shoulders, fussing with the folds a moment before bundling them up in their arms.

"N-no," Villain protested gripping awkwardly to Supervillain's arm through the fabric as their feet were taken out from under them. "You shouldn't touch me. I-I'll ruin your cape."

"I get it dry cleaned twice a week," Supervillain said, voice vibrating low and even in their chest. "It'll be fine."

Their arms squeezed a little tighter around Villain's form, and with a rush of air, the dark alley shrank and dropped out of sight. It wasn't even that Villain lost sight of it as Supervillain jumped; it was like the world literally folded it out of existence, leaving them sailing through dark nothing. Villain tried to make sense of it, but they were already in a daze, and their lurching stomach wasn't making cognitive functions much easier. Most of the journey was a blur. So it was rather sudden when they found themself on their own two feet again in the middle of a bright, cream-colored living room.

Villain felt like a newborn deer blinking in their first surroundings. It was beautiful. Like something from a home decorating show. Suede sofa, plush rug, tall ceiling...

Supervillain stood to the side, steadily drinking them in, and Villain pulled the cape tighter around them, as if it could shield them from Supervillain's view and hide their obvious displacement . One worn shoe tread halfway over the cream rug and when they edged onto the hard floor, it left an ugly, gray smear.

Villain's eyes leaped up to Supervillain's in a panic, but the master criminal simply looked down and up again. They smiled.

"Why don't you take a shower? Make it as long as you want. I'll leave some clothes outside the door. We'll talk when you're done."

Villain stared.

"Bathroom is straight down this hall. Use any of the products you find; I have a lot."

Villain nodded numbly and unsure what else to do, followed Supervillain's pointing finger into the master bathroom.

It was beautiful too. The bath looked more like a hot tub and the shower was like a walk-in closet. The mirror covered nearly the entire wall and only then did Villain realize how truly pathetic they looked, especially beside the rich, deep blue of Supervillain's cape. Hair a mess, eyes sunken, dirt all over their face, lips bloodless, and just overall small.

Villain broke eye contact with themself and began stripping away the dirty clothes, carefully folding the vomit stains inwards before gingerly piling them on the toilet. The air conditioning from the overhead vent sent a shiver down their spine, but it was nothing compared to the goosebumps still prickling their skin from the incident.

They turned the faucet up to nearly the hottest setting and let all that cold fear and alley grime wash down the drain. Steam gathered comfortingly around them in humid lavender and mint as Villain busied themself with lathering their hair.

It took a long time for their uneasiness to fade, but once it had, they wrapped themself in one of the bathroom's plush towels and peeked outside the door to find a neatly folded pile of clothes: a fleece long-sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy drawstring sweats, all roughly their size.

They dressed quickly, and a little poking under the sink led them to a bottle of mouthwash that rid them of the sour bile taste lingering in their mouth.

Feeling significantly better, Villain padded out to the living room, clenched hands sunk deep into their pockets. They found Supervillain sprawled out across the sofa, a book pinched between thumb and forefinger. They looked up at the sound of Villain's footsteps.

"Ah," Supervillain swung their legs to the rug and waved Villain toward the pillow-covered arm chair across from them. "Please, sit.

Villain did so, hunching their shoulders and staring at their knees. "Um, so, thank you again for um…well…all this, but...what did you want to talk about?"

Why did you bring me here? That was the real question knocking around in Villain's head, but they didn't dare say it loud.

"I haven't introduced myself," Supervillain said, tone as if they'd truly only just realized. "Excuse me, I'm--"

"Th-that's ok," Villain interrupted peering up from under their lashes. "I know who you are."

Supervillain smiled, even looked somewhat flattered as they leaned their elbows on their knees. "Good. I'll be blunt then. I can change your image. That is, if you want."

Villain swallowed. “How?"

"The media is fickle," Supervillain said. "They drop the old for whatever's hot. It may not be exactly what you want, but if you present them with another story, one that overshadows your current image, it will be like all this other stuff never happened."

"And...what would that other story even be?" Villain asked, trying to feel out Supervillain’s angle. There was no way they were doing this out of the kindness of their heart.

Supervillain scooted onto the very edge of the sofa. They clasped their hands, unclasped them, laid them flat on their knees. "Perhaps your new relationship with me?"

Villain choked on their own breath. "My... my what?"

“Think about it! It’s the perfect solution! I’m the biggest name in villainy this city has ever seen, and that’s not my ego talking. No one would dare touch you knowing that you’re associated with me. And with a presence as strong as mine, after a few months, you’ll only be thought of as my partner. This ‘half a villain’ nonsense will fade away.”

Villain had a lot of things on their mind but the first thing that burst out was, "What if it backfires? What if I ruin your image?"

Supervillain chuckled like Villain had something silly. "Not gonna happen."

"So...we'd pretend to date?" Villain said slowly, still trying to figure out why Supervillain was doing this.

"Oh. Oh, no, no, I was thinking more of the real deal,” Supervillain said quickly. “I'm not really into confusing personal feelings with work. But hey, if you're not comfortable, I can see about giving you a job instead. It may take a slower course, but it should still do the trick."

Their smile remained pasted on, but their forehead creased and the nonchalant wave of their hand seemed stiff. They preferred the relationship idea. Not a fake one. A real one.

"Why would you want that?" Villain said.

"Um, because you're adorable?" Supervillain said without hesitation. "We have the same ideals, same job, there must be tons of other things we have in common. And you've got this defenseless vibe around you that I can't resist. I saw you in that first video, and I knew right away: that villain is going to be mine."

"I don't get it."

Villain’s voice cracked without warning. They clenched their fists, but they were already trembling. Was Supervillain in on this too? Was there a hidden camera somewhere amongst all this finery? Ready to broadcast Villain's gullibility? That had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense. There was no way Supervillain—Supervillain!—was interested in them of all people.

“What about that video could have appealed to you? The whole city saw what happened, maybe the whole world. Everyone saw what a joke I was. It's hilarious how bad I am at being a villain. And all those weird things I do, fidgeting and throwing up and all the rest, they must be funny too because I'm a trend now. Why would you involve yourself with that? I'm a total embarrassment!"

Without warning, Supervillain's warm hand slid over their cheek and cupped the left side of their face. Villain wasn’t sure when they crossed the room, but here they were crouched in front of them. They tipped their head up at them, and those shiny eyes drilled earnestly into their eye sockets, maybe saw right through them. Their faces were still a couple feet apart, but it felt as if Supervillain was whispering straight in their ear.

"I want to protect you."

"W-what?"

"Let me protect you," Supervillain said.

Villains mouth had gone completely dry. This whole situation was strange, but a part of them wanted to believe it was true. They were just so tired of hurting.

"Prove that you really want to,” they finally said. “If you can…then ok.”

“That should be easy enough,” Supervillain grinned. They leaned in closer, hands bracing on either armrest. The heat of their breath ghosted against their cheek.

Villain squeezed their eyes shut and tried to steady their trembling. They weren’t prepared for this!

Supervillain’s forehead knocked against Villain’s, the tips of their noses just shy of brushing and… And then they stopped.

Villain cracked open their eyes. Supervillain stared straight through them, irises alive with a deep fire. Gone was the sharp, measuring look they’d maintained most of the night. This was hungrier, more destructive. Without breaking eye contact, they gently rubbed their forehead back and forth against Villain’s.

“I’ll start with the one who hurt you tonight.”

Part Two

Prompt #40

The villain had been gone for a whole month and the henchman was glad to say that they'd held down the fort successfully. The supervillain's request for their superior's help had come as a shock for sure - and on such short notice too - but it was hardly an opportunity they could turn down. Hardly an opportunity that the villain would want to turn down: they'd dreamt of working with the supervillain for years...

In a selfish way, the henchman was afraid. They loved working for the villain. If this became something permanent - if the villain's new work excursions changed from a month of hands-on scheming to a fulltime employment then where would that leave them? The business the supervillain ran was different. There was no room in it for the henchman, or any of the other small criminals that the villain had roped together under their own small company. If the villain left, then they supposed that would leave them in charge but the henchman didn't want that.

After all, they'd never entered the business of villainy for their own gain.

They liked playing the role of assistant. They liked being able to support the only person they had ever truly cared about.

The henchman shook themself a little as the doors to the office opened, quickly brushing down the villain's seat and standing to the side of it - eyes roaming over every little detail even though they already knew everything to be perfectly in place.

"Villain, welcome b--"

They cut off almost instantly. The shadow of their superior that stood before them so uncharacteristically small.

The villain was pale. Their shoulders hunched inwards and their eyes stayed focused down - the skin of their left cheek mottled with purple and black, the narrow cut there barely a few days old.

"Villain?" the henchman asked, and their voice had never been softer. They drifted forwards slightly, hands itching to reach out. "Are you okay?"

A breath.

The villain's eyes turned up ever so slowly, the corners shining with unshed tears.

"Henchman, I...I think I made a mistake."