Were Going To Die, The Hero Murmured, And The Villain Slammed Their Hand Onto Their Mouth.

“We’re going to die,” the hero murmured, and the villain slammed their hand onto their mouth.

“If you keep talking, yes.”

The hero glared at them out of the side of their eye, and hissed against their palm.

“Let go of me—“

The super villain laughed, and it echoed through the warehouse; a place they had turned into a sprawling labyrinth of death traps and riddles.

“Little birds,” they sang, and in that moment, the hero hated their chosen profession.

Behind their back, the villain fiddled with the lock to the door.

Their other hand remained firmly fixed upon the hero’s mouth.

The super villain began to hum.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

The villain began to move faster.

“Please,” the hero mouthed against the villains palm, sweat and desperation coating them. There was blood cooling on their abdomen.

The villain simply clutched their face tighter.

The super villain turned the corner, gun propped on their shoulder, and smiled.

“Found you.”

The lock clicked, the door swung open, and together, they tumbled into freedom.

Two hours later, the hero was swaddled in a fluffy blanket on the villains couch. There were so many safe guards on the villains house that they should have felt trapped. The hero just felt safe.

The villain carefully taped a piece of cloth over their wound, a pristine white bandage covering a neat row of stitches, put there by the villain.

“Thank you,” the hero’s mouth was dry. “For. You know.”

The villain looked up at them, and by god, if they didn’t look like a fallen Angel.

They smiled.

“I couldn’t let you die, now could I,” they said. They tipped the hero’s chin up, and when they spoke next, it was a whisper over their lips. “I’d miss you.”

The hero shivered, and the villain’s smile curled wider.

A moment later, the settled onto the couch beside the hero. The hero stiffened.

“Oh, come now.”

The villains arm fell, lightly, around their shoulders, and then they were pulled, blanket and all, onto the villain’s shoulder.

“You—“

“Hush, hero. That’s the blood loss talking.”

The hero did not nuzzle further into the villain’s chest, and the villain did not tuck them closer.

Absolutely not.

The news report flicked on, and they watched it idly, together.

“We’ll kill them together, yes?” The hero said, voice small.

The villain hummed, then laughed, voice tinged with something dangerous.

If the hero had looked up, they would have seen something akin to murderous. The villain tucked a careful hand over the wound, as if to make sure it was safe, and protected, and no longer bleeding out.

The hero did not look up.

“Yes, hero. We’ll kill them together.”

But for now, they stayed there, huddled together, warm and safe and dry.

And if the hero didn’t leave, even after they had killed the supervillain? If the hero moved in, took up a place on the villain’s bed?

Then that wouldn’t be anyone’s business.

(The villain delighted in it, though.)

(The hero was just happy to no longer be alone.)

(The hero learned the Villain knew a startling amount about the human body, their body, and was especially adept at causing pleasure—)

(The villain delighted in that, too.)

Hello! I was wondering if you could relink your post about 'shrugs'? I glimpsed it a while back, and I couldn't seem to discover it again. Also, if it's older/out of date, could you potentially update it? (though I can't imagine there could suddenly be new meanings to shrugs lol) Keep posting <3 I love your work :3

It's this one!

I don't really have an update to it. @s-b-york added a good comment in the reblogs about neurodivergence!

I hate you so much you don’t even understand the depth of it

Trapped Hero

The hero slammed into the villain’s chest so hard their breath left their lungs.

The villain didn’t have the decency to look phased as the hero scrambled away.

“You can’t keep me here.”

The villain smiled, a gentle thing, like the hero was a wild animal and they were the valiant rescuer.

Trapped in this cage, the hero felt a little wild.

They were used to cages. This wasn’t the first time. And yet, with the look on the villain’s face, with the power dampeners twined around the hero’s wrists, they were more afraid than they had ever been.

“Of course I can,” the villain said simply. “How would you stop me?”

They cast a pointed look at the hero’s wrists, and they stumbled a step back.

Something twisted in their gut.

“You have no right,” the hero began, and something shuttered in the villain’s eyes.

“You’re so innocent.”

The hero paused.

Innocent? The hero had never associated themselves with that word. Not with their childhood, not with their power, not with their job.

Try to save a city, and spill blood in the process. The only who seemed to care about the spilling of criminal blood was the hero.

Good work, the agency called it.

The hero simply wore it as guilt.

“Innocent,” the villain murmured once more. When they stepped into the hero’s space, closed any distance the hero had managed to create, the hero froze.

“I’m not innocent,” the hero spat, and it felt like a confession.

“You wear the guilt beautifully, I must admit. But you shouldn’t have to.”

The villain ran a hand along the hero’s jaw, and they jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Impossibly, the villain’s eyes softened. The took a step back, watching as the hero relaxed minutely.

“I’m doing this for you.”

“If you’re doing this for me, let me out. Take these damned things off, and let me out.”

“No.”

The hero reeled, and the villain watched that, too.

The city needed them, their people needed them, and they couldn’t help if they were trapped in this tower.

Behind the villain, the door remained closed.

“Please.”

The villain blew out a slow breath.

“You’re too kind for this city.”

The hero took a step forward, hand stretching towards the window.

“That’s why it needs me,” they pleaded. “Don’t take me from it.”

The villain’s eyed them with reproach.

“Does it need you,” they said gently, “or do you need it?”

The hero scoffed.

“What difference does it make—“

“I read your file,” the villain said, and the hero stiffened.

Their childhood, the pain, the hurt, the curses and uttering of freakwrongburden that they kept oh so carefully buried was laid bare in front of them.

Of course the villain had. Of course the villain knew.

The hero swallowed, and it hurt.

“You had no right—“

“They had no right to hurt you.”

The hero stopped. Across from them, the villain was closest to anger as they had ever seen them.

Their power lashed out, and the cuffs shoved it down with all the grace of a falling building.

“Your parents,” the villain began. “Your siblings. They were awful people. If they weren’t already dead, I’d kill them for you.”

The hero shuddered. That night, those deaths, the gravestones that haunted them, tattooed on their mind in ways they knew that they could never erase.

They had been too slow then. They hadn’t been that slow ever again. They made sure of it.

“I don’t need you to—“

“You will not protect yourself, so I am doing it for you.”

The hero jerked their head.

“You call this protecting?”

The tower sat silent around them.

The villain’s jaw clenched.

“This city, your precious people,” the villain grit out. “They would destroy you, if you let them. If I let them.”

The hero took another step forward, and their power hummed, furious within their veins.

Too slow, their body whispered. Danger.

The villain smiled, and this time, it wasn’t gentle, but vicious. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck rose.

“But for you, darling? I’m going to destroy it first.”

They were out the door faster than the hero could grab them.

Even when they screamed their throat raw, scratched their nails bloody on the edges of the door, the villain did not come.

Too slow.

The city burned.

“I just—I don’t think I love you anymore.”

It hurt—like a thousand suns burning in his core, a million white lies, a rockslide in his gut.

He swallowed, and tears threatened to spring to his eyes.

“What do you mean, you don’t love me. I made myself for you. Is the witty humor not enough anymore? The undying devotion? The kindness, all of it, I did it for you.”

Lila bit her lip.

“I’m sorry.”

“Tell me, did I not change quick enough, or did you change too fast?”

His voice was bitter, a winters cold bite, even to his own ears.

“Matt—“

“It’s Matthew.”

Lila paused.

His scoffed, angrily.

“You don’t love me anymore. I became Matt for you—I created myself around you, built myself upon you. I became the picture you painted in your mind. You can’t say you don’t want it and have it the same.”

A flush rose to her cheeks.

“You’re being ridiculous—“

“You stopped loving me!” He shouted, and after a moment, softer, “how could you not love me?”

A tear slipped down Lila’s cheek.

“You’re perfect. I just—I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t enough. How could it ever be enough? He had taken classes to be with her because she didn’t like to be alone, had started the track to become a vet because she loved animals and wanted to work with the love of her life, hd cut his hair, and changed his posture, had gotten superpowers, had been sexy and cute and smart and kind and wholesome and dorky and funny and yet—

He was perfect. And still, she had stopped loving him.

Somewhere between Matt—Matthew—he had remade himself in the negative space around her, and somehow, as he changed himself, she had changed too.

“I still love you,” he offered weakly, and she turned her head, as if slapped. “I could change—“

“Stop.”

A tear dropped off the end of his chin.

“I’d do it well—“

“Matthew.”

His name, a plea. No more Matt.

Lila had killed him.

Lila sniffed, as if steeling herself, then drew herself up.

She looked him directly in the eye.

“You need to stop changing for others.”

“You liked it when I changed for you,” he murmured, voice raw.

She swallowed.

“That was different.”

“How, Lila. Different because it was you? Because me changing was romantic, not sad, when it was you? God.”

“Matthew—“

“You didn’t love me for me,” he threw an arm out. “You don’t love Matt, and you don’t love whoever I am now.”

Lila closed her eyes.

“I said I was sorry—“

“I became a new person for you, and you relished it, and now you’re sorry?”

She pursed her lips.

“It’s not like that.”

“You know it is.”

And whatever was left of his heart broke.

A match lit itself inside his chest.

Lila opened her mouth, and he cut her off.

“No. Just—stop. Stop apologizing when you aren’t sorry. I am going to go out, and I am going to find someone who loves me, not for Matt, not for Matthew, but for me. And when I do, I am going to love them harder than I have ever loved anyone else. Even you.”

Lila looked like she didn’t know what to say, as if she had expected the collapse but hadn’t expected him to bare his teeth.

“Go.”

When she left, she slammed the door behind her.

Eight months later, he met a girl named Kaylie in a coffee shop.

They ruled the world, together, five years later.

“I love you,” they pressed a kiss to their lovers temple. Their lover smiled sleepily at them, beneath blankets and pillows and bandages.

“How are you feeling?”

Their lover smiled, reached for them, and pulled them into bed.

“Better, now that you’re here.”

“I never left.”

“Don’t ever leave.”

They pressed another kiss to their forehead.

“Promise.”

Their lover winced, and blinked wearily.

“Kiss it better?”

They smiled.

“Of course.”

They kissed every wound thrice times over, until their lover was dead asleep in their arms, coated in their love.

“I love you,” they whispered into their hair.

And despite the bruises, despite the wounds, in their sleep, their lover smiled.

YOU think it’s terrifying. I think the fungi would simply make us do a coordinated YMCA dance and then just vibe.

You know, as the concept of “zombifying fungi” becomes more and more popular, I notice it still referred to everywhere as like a “brain parasite.” So I guess a lot of people overlooked or forgot how in 2019 it was discovered that cordyceps and other similar fungal parasites leave the brain and nervous system completely untouched. They only control the muscles. They use chemical signals to make the muscles flex in real time where they want to go :)