A New Nemesis

A New Nemesis

Villain fled on light feet, easily outmaneuvering the Hero that trailed closely behind them. Just a few more feet and they would be out the door and into the getaway car idling on the street.

Knowing they would need every second they could get in order to outrun Hero, Villain scanned the exit with ingenious eyes.

In a move indicative of a very large cerebrum, Villain slammed their palm into the silver disk attached to the wall. They headed straight for the doors, expecting them to part open just in time for their graceful escape. Instead, Villain barely had enough time to skid to a halt and avoid slamming into the glass. The door was indeed swinging open, just at the pace of an elderly snail taking an afternoon stroll.

Inch by inch the space between the door and the frame grew, and Villain waited for the precise moment before lunging forward.

Unfortunately, the delay was all Hero needed to catch up to the criminal. This time, a splat into the glass was unavoidable as Hero shoved their impatient form against the side of the door that was still closed. Cuffs clicked, and the villain let out an indignant grunt.

“You got lucky, Hero. If it wasn’t for these stupid doors-“

“What are you, a Scooby-Doo villain? ‘If it wasn’t for these meddling automatic openers’,” Hero mocked.

Villain scowled and their heavy breaths fogged up the pane they were pressed against. They had indeed been foiled by door of all things.

Hero continued, “Honestly, this is a little embarrassing for you, Villain.”

“Hey, you needed the help of a door to catch me. What’s so ‘embarrassing’ now?”

Mockingly, the door held its self open beside them, waiting for a phantom chase to pass through.

Villain wished they had tried to slam it in Hero’s face instead.

Hero and Villain Go to a Pumpkin Patch

Hero gazed out into the countryside through the open top of the trailer. As Yelp had promised, there were gourds galore spread out over the many fields and rolling hills. The tractor pulling them steadily chugged along, filling the air with engine noises and a slight gas smell that had Villain plugging their ears and wrinkling their nose.

Naturally, they were both on a hay ride, on their way to a pumpkin farm, as enemies often are at the start of this season.

“Why is there so much hay!” Villain grumbled, tossing some into the air in frustration as they pulled at the pieces that were stuck to them.

Hero mercifully decided not to mention that that was the whole idea of a hay ride, instead pointing out, “You’re the one that insisted on wearing a cape to a farm.”

“For the last time, it’s a cloak,” Villain stressed, rising up slightly to attempt to shake off the pesky straw velcroing itself to their attire.

“Nice try, you don’t have a hood.”

Hero tugged Villain off their knees, lest they get in trouble for standing up

The rest of the ride included Villain unsuccessfully shifting and picking at their clothes while Hero, quite helpfully, made sure some pieces landed in the other’s hair before they departed the trailer.

After that, it was a quick bee-line to the collection of squash and pumpkins laid out on a lot of colored wood chips. Hero insisted on a picture, plopping down on a large and plump orange pumpkin to pose in front of the villain.

“I thought heroes don’t break rules?” Villain asked, smirking.

Hero defended automatically, “I’m not breaking any-”

Villain pointed to one of the clearly displayed signs reading “no sitting on pumpkins” in large red print.

“Oh.”

Villain snapped a picture just in time to capture the pumpkin collapsing into a heap of seeds and chunks beneath Hero.

…

“I still can’t believe that pumpkin cost 300 dollars.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to find out if you didn’t destroy it.”

Hero’s mouth formed a line as they pointedly looked away from the all-too amused criminal.

“Your face was priceless by the way,” they continued, much to the chagrin of their enemy.

Hero cut a glare that would make any villain proud.

“There’s a place for a better photo,” Villain consoled, pointing towards a board with the painted bodies of a farmer family, immediately regretting it when they clocked the expression on the Hero’s face.

After handing their camera off to a random patron, Hero and Villain found themselves at the back of the board. Hero immediately headed for the tallest hole, rising up onto their tiptoes to be seen from the front. When they realized Villain wasn’t stepping forward, they directed them to the lowest hole.

“That one will work,” they gestured, before returning to face the camera.

Reluctantly, Villain kneeled down in place for the photo.

When they got it back, Hero’s smiling face was plastered on that of a flannel-clad man with a pitchfork, holding his faceless family close in a field of hard-earned pumpkins. And Villain, with their face filling the hole of the dog at the bottom.

Relentlessly, Hero skipped towards a building with a line winding around to a small serving window.

Following, Villain scanned the sign and gaped.

Hero turned to them, eyes sparkling as they requested, “I’d like an apple cider, please!”

“I am not paying 30 dollars for inferior apple juice.”

Villain crossed their arms.

“It’s not juice, it’s cider. Come on, have some fall spirit.”

Villain did not have any fall spirit, however they did now have a lighter wallet, a happier hero, and a hot chocolate for themselves.

They sipped slowly, watching steam curl and unfurl into the air above their novelty mug.

“I can’t understand why you like this season so much. It’s far too cold.”

“It’s all in the leaves, Villain,” Hero replied.

“The leaves. They’re…crunchy.”

“They’re beautiful.”

Hero tilted their head back, gazing up at the red, orange, yellow, and brown canopy. Villain followed their lead, watching the light stream through the gaps of the balding branches with the slightest sense of wonder. The wind picked up, and it was like the trees were sparkling. Rich colors rained down as the gust blew through.

Totally not beautiful at all.

The nemeses next found themselves at a table with a medium size pumpkin sitting in front of each of them. They had both been entrusted with a small array of carving tools, which they made quick use of cutting into the vegetable and scooping out seeds and guts.

Sufficiently covered in the remains of mutilated gourds, Hero glanced over from where they were carefully scraping at their logo carved into the side of their designated pumpkin. Their mouth fell open in horror at their enemy’s work.

Safe to say, Hero earned a blue ribbon, and Villain earned a lifetime ban from the carving contest.

The criminal and the crime fighter soon took to wandering the perimeter of the farm, following the fencing in front of the surrounding deciduous trees.

The wind blew and Villain rubbed at their arms and pulled their cape tighter around themselves.

“It’s too cold to be outside,” they complained, causing Hero’s head to whip towards them.

“Since when are you such a wimp? If you’re cold, just say so,” Hero challenged.

“Ok, I’m cold.”

“I have just the thing,” Hero replied cheerfully, reaching into their concerningly-large pocket and pulling out some knitted material.

“What…are those.”

“Mittens.”

“No. That,” Villain pointed to the woolen blob on top with an accusatory finger, “is an abomination.”

“It’s. A. Mitten.”

Hero spread out the knitted hand-warmers before them. Villain thought they were more likely to be mistaken for a failed crochet project.

“…why are there only three.”

A grin spread cheesily across the Hero’s face, a glint of mischief in their eyes.

“Couple gloves!”

Slow, painful realization overcame the Villain.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not holding your hand.”

“I thought you said you were cold?” Hero tilted their head, asking with seriousness, “Would you rather have your fingers fall off?”

That, in Villain’s opinion, was a gross exaggeration of the current temperature of their hands.

They did, however, relent when they realized how terrible it was to have an imbalance between their hands, one wrapped in wool and the other exposed to the cutting wind. Better to look dumb then waste a valuable asset like the feeling in their fingers, Villain rationalized.

Hero let them keep pretending that was the real reason their fingers stayed intertwined until it was time to go home.

———

A lot of these ideas are included in @thepenultimateword ’s Flufftober challenge. I started writing this before the challenge was posted, but it deserves some recognition, go check it out!

Limits (Don’t Forget to Take Your Meds)

Hero and Villain were fighting on top of a building, and—admittedly—Hero wasn’t doing so hot.

Their heart was beating too fast, and they wanted nothing more than to sink to their knees right there on the rooftop. They were breathing hard but it wasn’t enough, their heart kept picking up speed and the oxygen didn’t seem to be reaching their head.

They blocked clumsily and Villain stepped back, flicking his wrist in a circular motion in an attempt to show off.

The display was lost on Hero, however, because Villain’s sword was no longer the only thing on the roof that was spinning. Hastily, they caught themselves before almost stumbling.

They tried to keep it from showing on their face, but somewhere in the past few seconds they must have failed because Villain stopped and let his weapon arm fall to his side.

“Hero?” He questioned.

Hero pressed their lips together, too scared to open their mouth in fear of the nausea that was swimming over them. They blinked, and he was closer, hand coming up to press against the pulse point of their wrist.

He shook his head at the rapid pounding he felt beneath their skin.

“Did you take your meds today?”

If Hero didn’t know better, his question would almost seem to hold the same condescension of a parent scolding a child who obviously hadn’t taken the time to think through their actions before getting upset.

“Of course I- oh.”

Hero visibly deflated.

“You really need to set an alarm or something,” Villain scolded.

“I have one!” Hero spoke defensively, “It’s just…I woke up and my cat was yelling and I had to get up and feed her but I just felt so bad-”

“Go home, Hero.”

Hero fumbled, “Seriously? I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can,” Villain interrupted. “In fact, I won’t allow you to do anything else.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hero tried to argue, “I can-“

Push through, they didn’t get to finish.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Surely you know this isn’t safe,” he leveled them with a look the hero wasn’t clear-headed enough to feel the full effect of.

His next statement was threatening, and Hero found themselves taken aback.

“Do you really want to flare?”

They couldn’t stop their lips from parting in surprise.

No one had ever understood like that, never told them they needed and were allowed to rest, aggressively or otherwise.

He made it sound so…simple.

Hero thought of the consequences of trying to fight Villain right now. There simply wasn’t enough ibuprofen in the world to make up for the symptoms that would follow. They really didn’t want to end up stuck in bed for days, not when there were plenty of less courteous villains that could decide to destroy the city at any time.

Their shoulders sagged in defeat. They knew what they needed to do but…

But it hurt, accepting their limits. They supposed that was their heroic pride talking, but part of them knew it was more than that.

It was shame, and it was anger. Anger that they were trapped in a body that couldn’t keep up with them. Shame because resting felt like giving up.

They followed the villain’s lead, laying down their weapon with shaking hands.

They were, as many people were, always told, “a real hero never gives up.”

A real hero, they thought now, knows how to pick their battles.

And they knew a fight with their body would never be one they could win.

A Diagnosis

Hero had been suspiciously absent that evening, so when stirring up trouble didn’t summon the city’s protector, Villain went looking.

He found them on the edge of town sitting on a rooftop, legs dangling lazily over the side of the building. Villain scaled the fire escape quietly, but made his footsteps sound as he crossed the roof. The hero didn’t turn as he approached, instead staying hunched and gazing out at the horizon. The sky was aglow with a fiery orange, and slowly, one by one the lights of the urban central started to flicker on.

“Good evening, Villain,” Hero greeted in a somber tone.

Villain froze. Hero’s voice was never soft.

“What’s wrong?”

Hero sighed.

“Nothing. I just…found something out, today.”

“Something…bad?” Villain walked forward slowly, taking a seat on the ledge next to Hero.

Hero just shrugged, eyes still focused on the city skyline.

“But you feel bad about it,” Villain guessed carefully.

“No, no,” Hero shook their head vehemently, shooting Villain a quick glance so he knew they meant it.

“Just…relieved mostly. Which probably sounds weird.”

Some tension drained from their shoulders, and they leaned back onto their hands.

“I already knew, really.”

Villain hummed in acknowledgement and let the hero continue uninterrupted.

“It’s just…hearing somebody else say it makes it feel real, I guess.”

Villain simply nodded, letting the comfortable silence sit. He joined them in watching the sky turn.

Eventually, Hero spoke wistfully, “All that time struggling, wondering.”

Villain suddenly suspected they weren’t, in fact, looking at the setting sun, but perhaps into the past. For them, twilight was a time machine, the destination known only to the hero.

The nemeses continued to sit side by side, and the sky cycled through sherbet to lavender then periwinkle before night truly descended.

“Well, I’m glad you have an answer.”

Villain stood and brushed off his pants.

“So am I.”

Villain walked back and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Hero alone to process in the silence of the night.

Breakfast In Bed

(How It All Started #2)

Thank you guys so much for being patient and for welcoming me back so warmly after that (actually quite long) hiatus! I hope this is to your liking my sweets – let me know what you think :3

Part 1 Part 2 Original Post

CW: none, for once :O

Superhero barked out a laugh, not taking his eyes off Supervillain and his protégé. "A mole, you say?"

Supervillain seemed unfazed, but Sidekick could feel an underlying annoyance at her mentor's disbelief. "Your operation plans and the heroes' individual deployment times have been leaked recently, no?", he mused, tilting his head, as if he didn't already know the answer.

Sidekick felt her stomach lurch. She knew he was well informed. But this intel had been classified. The executives aside, no-one below b-rank heroes and maybe their sidekicks knew about it.

Superhero narrowed his eyes at his nemesis, looking him up and down as if assessing whether he was bluffing or not. "So? Who is it?", he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Hero", Supervillain deadpanned.

Sidekick nearly choked on her own spit, straining against his hold on her. Hero. Her senior and Superhero's Sidekick before her. This couldn't be true! It couldn't be. He and Superhero had been working together for years, before she even joined the agency. He was trusted among the league, reliable and…and…

And yet she could feel it. Supervillain wasn't lying. At least he himself was convinced it was the truth.

Superhero chuckled hoarsely, the sound resembling a wheeze. He didn't believe his former friend one bit. "Yeah, right. Nice try, but-" He went quiet, when his eyes met Sidekick's. He frowned, trying to decipher the look on her face.

Sidekick didn't know what to make of this either, but…She slowly shook her head, as far as the hand still clamped down on her mouth allowed. No. Supervillain was in fact not lying, as far as she could tell.

Superhero's face blanked, then went pale, as he considered his old friend's words for the first time. If Hero was a mole…the consequences would be unprecedented in the history of the agency…of the whole league! There would be so many lives, jobs and existences at stake.

Supervillain, in the meantime, emitted waves of confusion, followed by curiosity, as he returned his attention to Sidekick. "Hmm? And what are you shaking your head for, sweetheart?", he muttered, his gaze flickering between her and her mentor's increasing concern.

Sidekick felt the realization set in, like little sparks going off in the back of Supervillain's head.

"Ahh…what do you know? A human lie detector, it seems. How fascinating…", he purred lowly next to her ear, "…and convenient for me." He straightened himself again, looking Superhero dead in the eye. "The agency won't last until the end of this year, if Hero isn't stopped. So I advise you to look into the recent leak, if you don't want your precious heroes to fall victim to more ambushes – one, by one." He lifted his hand from her face, opting for holding her head in a chokehold with his arm. "Tell him, short stuff."

But before Sidekick could protest being treated like an interrogation machine, Superhero had gathered his bearings again, balling his hands into fists until his knuckles cracked. "And what do you get out of this, hm? Why give us a heads-up? Wouldn't it be awfully convenient for you if shit hit the fan at the agency?"

Supervillain snarled, electricity sizzling all around him and making the hair on Sidekick's body stand on end. "Unlike your employers, I don't profit from peoples' misery", he spat. "There are still people at the agency I'd rather not find torn into pieces in some filthy back alley."

Sidekick stilled in his hold for a moment. She felt…concern, worry even, as her captor grit those words out. Frustration and…care. He cared. About Superhero. About the others who would inevitably be harmed in the process, if Hero actually leaked more information to the wrong people.

"As if you ever cared about other's misery!", her mentor barked, the vein at his temple protruding again. "You were never there when I needed you. Why bother now? We-"

"Superhero, he…he means it", Sidekick interrupted, voice still a bit shaky. She wasn't sure of Supervillain's intentions, but she knew he actually wanted to help them, at least as far as Hero was involved. "Maybe we should look into Hero for a while."

She could feel Supervillain's surprise prickle on her skin, disbelief and…relief. Sidekick craned her neck slightly to look up at him, his expression showing a hint of…was that gratitude? She probably just imagined it, since his face quickly steeled itself again.

"How about it? You look into it and if you find substantive evidence, I'll tell you more", Supervillain suggested. "I would be willing to let the kitten validate the intel. Thoroughly, if necessary", he crooned with a wink.

Sidekick, groaned at that, trying to elbow him, but his grip on her was unrelenting.

Superhero snorted, grinding his teeth. He looked torn. Supervillain's words, combined with her affirmation of their truth, made him doubt. Doubt Hero, doubt the security of the agency, the safety of his colleagues and friends. But it still didn't convince him to trust Supervillain. "If you honestly think we would-"

"I accept", Sidekick blurted. If this was true, then Supervillain was their best bet. She was willing to take the risk. Even if Superhero would be furious.

"Sidekick!", her mentor hissed, shooting her a glare that promised a full-grown lecture once they were back at bade.

Supervillain chuckled after a moment, which Sidekick knew it took him to process she actually accepted. "Good girl", he huffed. "I'll contact you once you confirmed the information then. If you're not dead by then…", he added ominously.

Sidekick could tell there was more to that than he let on, which made it all the more unsettling. Were there more people involved than they knew? Was Hero the only one who had turned his back on the agency? She hated how this information made her suspicious, of everyone and everything she thought she knew. She yelped, when he suddenly released her and gave her a firm shove towards Superhero.

Her mentor caught her, his grip a bit too tight. He was usually adapt at calculating his strength, so normal people wouldn't get hurt. But Sidekick could feel his worry blanket her like a heavy coat.

Once she spun around, Supervillain had already left, using a hole in the floor to escape.

"Hey, Sidekick! Hey, are you alright?", Superhero fussed, looking her over.

"I'm…I'm fine", she muttered, mind still reeling as the shock finally settled in. There weren't many who left unscathed after an encounter with Supervillain. It wasn't an experience that had made it onto her bucket list. But now, it seemed as if she would have to meet him again, if his hint was correct.

"What were you thinking?!", Superhero bellowed, once he was sure she was unharmed. "Supervillain can't be trusted. You don't even know what his objective with all this is."

"He wasn't lying", Sidekick said calmly, meeting her mentor's gaze. "If what he said was correct, we can use any bit of information we can get our hands on. It would be a waste to not take his offer, don't you think?"

Superhero cursed, before taking a deep breath. He knew she was right, but that didn't mean he approved of the idea of having her function as the intermediary. "Let's go home and think this through, okay?"

Sidekick nodded. Now that the adrenaline had subsided, she felt tired, her body still twitching slightly from the strong zap earlier.

Paperwork was a nightmare after today's mission and it was already dark outside by the time she made it home. She took a long, hot shower, before grabbing some leftover pizza from the fridge.

She padded over to the terrarium on the dresser to look for Mr. Scales. She smiled tiredly, when she spotted his large, protruding eyes underneath the larger branch.

Sidekick frowned in mild confusion, when she noticed he seemed to be munching on something. She went rigid, upon recognizing it as a piece of paper, with a handwritten note on it.

'Thank you – for believing me. Meet me at Rick's, tomorrow at 9 a.m. Don't be late, short stuff.'

@dracobellatorregina I @talesofurbania1 I @surplus-of-sarcasm I @kurai-hono-blog I @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 I @arealphrooblem I @faytelumos I @liv-007

Ice Cream Truck

Hero was almost a block away from the city center, where they had gotten an alert that Villain was wreaking havoc in the park.

Their feet pounded on the concrete beneath them and sweat dripped from their brow. They slowed to a stop, bracing their hands on their knees and panting loudly.

Why did Villain have to choose the hottest day of the year to cause problems?

They simply hadn’t believed the thermometer when they started out on their patrol today. A reading in the triple digits was criminal, and Hero could not stand for illegal acts.

Unfortunately, there was no one to arrest but the sun.

They lifted their chest, ready to continue the dash to the scene under the heat of the baking sun, when a sight stopped them in their tracks.

Was it a mirage?

The sweet sound of questionably-creepy music flooded their ears.

Could it be?

It was.

A box-shaped trucked had just turned the corner towards them, painted in light blues and pinks and yellows, covered in youthful depictions of all kinds of different cold sweets and treats.

The triumph over evil would have to wait for another day.

A SpongeBob pop was calling their name.