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avvail · 9 months

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Hero is an alcoholic and the villain finds the hero on the sidewalk with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, and then the Hero starts to vent to the villain about his issues

“Hero.”

The villain hadn’t meant for such thickness to creep into their voice, but it had. Seeing the hero, such a prized little monument in their city, squeezed in an alleyway with an entire bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, might do that to anyone.

They shouldn’t have thought anything of it.

Maybe it was a kick to keep him going through the night.

Maybe he would leap to his feet and engage the villain in another breath taking battle. But even in the dim light, they see the unnatural flush on his cheeks. They see the unfocused, glazed look in his eye.

It even takes him far too long to register that his name had been called.

The whiskey bottle clanks against the concrete as he sets it down, but doesn’t unfasten his fingers from the slim neck.

“Villain.”

His voice is shaking. They can sense a slurred drawl creeping effortlessly through each syllable. The villain steps closer. They can almost smell it.

“What are you doing, Hero?”

He languidly nudges the half empty whiskey, as if the answer was obvious.

“Drinking,” he slurs. The villain’s brow pinches.

“Why?”

The hero gulps down another swig. They almost see it hit him, his eyes popping open wearily, before his head lolls lazily so his chin is almost touching his chest. He sucks in a wet breath.

“Why does anyone do anything?” He grumpily groans, struggling to twist his tongue around his own words. He looks as though he barely knows what he’s saying. “Jus’...leave me alone.”

The villain grimaces. They stop in front of them with a pinched brow etched onto their face, and they reach down to pry the bottle from their hands. Surprisingly, he has enough to strength to rip it away. Some liquid sloshes onto the pavement with a wet smack.

“Oi,” he loudly snaps. “That’s mine. Hands off.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” the villain sternly tells him. They can feel this resonating anger consuming their very being. They don’t know why seeing the hero in this state is getting them hot under the collar. Maybe it’s because the hero is doing it to himself.

The only person who should be bringing him pain and misery, was them. Not a bottle of Jameson.

“I’ve only had three bottles,” he huffs, barely stuttering out the words. The villain’s eyebrows raise.

“Three?”

“I like Irish whiskey,” the hero hums.

The villain resists the urge to curse under their breath. They hadn’t ever once thought of the hero as an idiot until now. They yank the bottle from his slipping grip with more force this time, and it pops right out of his hand. They already have an arm lay over his collarbone to prevent him from moving when he attempts to lurch forward in a hasty effort to take it back.

“Hey!” He snaps, barely fighting him off. “S’mine.”

“Why are you drinking yourself to death?”

They don’t ask because they care. The villain hasn’t ever cared; they just don’t want the hero to be easy pickings while he’s out here in this state. He puts up a valiant fight for a drunkard.

“Why do you care?” He hisses, and the villain can smell the warm wood and nutty undertones radiating from the bottle. They make a point of tipping it all out onto the pavement.

The hero fights harder this time, a ragged groan tearing from their throat.

“Fuck you,” he growls, clumsy fingers trying to latch onto their shirt. “Jus’...fuckin’, ruining everything—”

The villain can see tears in his glassy eyes. They wonder whether it’s because he just poured an expensive bottle of Jameson on the floor, but they find their voice softening regardless. Not because they care.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” they ask.

The hero grits his teeth, a soft little huff choking in his throat. It takes mere seconds before the tears begin to roll down their cheeks.

“Twenty two people died on that bridge,” he forces out, sucking in a sharp breath. “It was my fucking fault. Mine.”

They look at them gently.

“Hero, that was months ago,” they whisper. “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

The villain can feel him visibly shaking from under their arm, and they decide to slowly remove it from his collarbone. The hero sways, and he’s clearly fighting off a huge wave of drunken dizziness that slams into him.

“I’m a fucking joke,” he sobs. “I need it.”

“You don’t need to do this,” the villain murmurs. They try to ignore the returning thickness in their throat. “You’re not a joke.”

“Leave me alone,” he groans, head falling limply onto their shoulder. They stiffen. “Please.”

They don’t like the way the hero begs. It isn’t nearly as fun as they had imagined; none of this, seeing the hero broken and miserable, was as fun as they had imagined. They gently cradle him into their side, and slowly heft him off the ground. It takes him a while to even find his feet.

“Come on, Hero,” the villain hums, voice strained. “I’m taking you home.”

He quietly sobs to himself as they do, and the villain realises how much he must have been struggling for months by himself. They take him back home, but it isn’t because they care. Even when they put him in some clean clothes, and make him sip at some water, making sure he lies on his side so he doesn’t throw up.

When the hero is asleep, they stay. But not because they care.

#ask #hero x villain #villain x hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain hero #hero #villain #alcohol abuse #writing #my writing #avvail snippet #avvail

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avvail-whumps · 6 months

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ok so i just saw the prompt that you reblogged on your other account and.. i was wondering if you ever had the time would you write something about a hypnotized whumpee?

content warnings: intimate whumper, hypnosis, conditioned whumpee, non-con touching (not explicit), mentioned non-con (not explicit)

“Aren’t they just so pretty?”

The caretaker says nothings. It’s obvious by the grim expression on their face that they don’t particularly want to encourage the whumper’s behaviour.

The last time they had seen the whumpee, they had been kicking and screaming. Putting up a fuss any chance they got, making life as difficult as they could for their captor. They had this fire in their eyes that didn’t seem to be dying out any time soon.

But now?

They’d almost been surprised by the quietness of the house. The whumper would usually have them restrained in some way, and they’d be writhing and kicking up a fuss, making lots of angry noises.

Instead, they observed their quiet, stiff form on the sofa. There was something eerie about their eyes; blank, unfocused, hardly even blinking. Even when the whumper carded a hand through their head, there wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on their face.

The caretaker was in awe at how complacent they were being.

“What did you do?” They find themselves asking absentmindedly, unable to tear their eyes away. Because they are genuinely shocked.

The whumper hums softly under their breath, scraping the hair away from the whumpee’s forehead. They’re devoid of usual cuts and bruises - the caretaker wonders how long they’ve been like this.

“I tried a new method,” the whumper answers vaguely, steely eyes staring into theirs. “This way, I can’t get bored.”

The caretaker doesn’t realise their confusion flickers in their expression, but the whumper notices it, as observant as they are. They gently run a finger under the whumpee’s chin, who still has that blank, half lidded gaze. Like a China doll.

“If I want them to be an eager little thing that serves to please me, then I can make it happen with just one word,” they hum, snapping their fingers in front of the whumpee’s face, as if to prove a point. They don’t even blink. “I like it when they put a fight, too, but too much noise, and I can simply admire them like this.”

They tilt the whumpee’s head back, just enough to admire their slack expression. “Isn’t it perfect?”

The caretaker’s mind swims. “So, you hypnotized them?”

A cruel smile appears on their face, squeezing the whumpee’s shoulders.

“Yes,” they answer. “Yes, I did.”

They slowly nod. That explained the sudden change, but seeing the whumpee like this, so dazed and so relaxed, they can’t help but shudder. There’s something really eerie about it. That the whumper holds their mind in their palm of their hand, triggered only by simple words.

“Was it hard?” They find themselves asking. The whumper smiles.

“They’re a stubborn thing,” they chuckle, tilting their head. “You know that. But I can programme them to do whatever you or I want.” Their voice drops dangerously. “You can take them to the spare room, if you really want.”

The caretaker immediately cringes, and they shake their head. They feel more disgust towards the whumper than ever before, and they don’t want to imagine what the poor whumpee’s been through already. If they remember it...

“No, thank you,” they grumble. The blank stare is unnerving them. “I’ll pass.”

The whumper chuckles, still running their fingers through the whumpee’s hair. They stop to observe their face, before a crooked smirk spreads across their lips. They tap their nose gently, cupping their cheeks as though they would with a lover. The whumpee does nothing back.

“Your loss.”

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stillboredman · 9 months

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Reblog / Rec Masterlist

Updated 8/18ish

Alternating between lighthearted fun and violence - depends on the current mood.

Sure - my writing is great and all (heavy sarcasm), but there are some incredible people on this website. If you’re looking for new content, you’ve come to the right place. Check #reblog for more gems!

Most recent obsessions in green.

The Works

An incomplete list of series and/or individual snippets that need your attention asap - and don’t be afraid to scour their blog while you’re at it. Enjoy!

Money Makers

Malik and Jonas

The Fighter

Guns for Hire

Liliholm and Page

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

…

The Blogs

Kudos to the people who make shit stuff happen! Another incomplete list. Let me know if you want anything removed, I’ll accommodate your request immediately.

@the-modern-typewriter

@thepenultimateword / masterlist

@save-the-villainous-cat / masterlist

@vigilantetendencies / masterlist

@avvail / masterlist

@squishablesunbeam / masterlist

@hold-him-down / masterlist

@redwingedwhump / masterlist

@painsandconfusion / masterlist

…

Blog Navigation

#reblog / rec masterlist #blog navigation #reblog #blog masterlist #hero x villain #whump

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

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I know you have tons of asks right now, so it may take you a long time to get to this!! (But ofc don’t do it if you don’t want to ❤️)

Maybe a hero who’s had a incredibly rough day and just wants a hug from Villain, but Villain doesn’t pick up on it and makes a slightly mean remark or snaps at the hero. Villain doesn’t realize anything’s wrong until Hero bursts into tears . . .

Thank you so much if you decide to do this!!!

❤️❤️

Hi 🤭

I think @avvail just posted a snippet that’s…I don’t know…very fucking similar to this ask? 🥰

I think this might be a good opportunity to remind everyone that I know what you request. I read avvail’s snippet and immediately knew that someone sent me…hm…the same ask…and I noticed it when one of y’all sent me the same fucking prompt three times. Oopsie ☺️ Makes me kinda mad! Kinda tired! Makes me resent it. Makes me hate the prompt!

Just so you know: we are not factories you can send asks to. This isn’t a business. We are not in any way obligated to answer your asks, especially not when you send writers the same message over and over again.

Yes, there are certain tropes in this community that get suggested multiple times. But the same ask without much editing? C’mon. Have some decency.❤️

#no writing #an answer for an ask #TIRED #:)))

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halloiambored · 2 years

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Thought / Prompt

Eccentric (TBD)

Decorative pillow (TBD)

Emotionless brick wall (TBD)

Happy for you (TBD)

p.t. 2

Hawaiian pizza (continuation)

Abused Hero x Supervillain (3), same characters as Random Snippet #2.

Running Away (1)

Inspirational Reblogs

Individual Works: nobody talks, everyone walks // truly evil // last on the list // also truly evil // beg your pardon // no. // sunshine whumpee // self-sacrificing // sole prisoner // betrayal // never breaks // sacrifice // cheating incident // Logan… heed the tags // they don’t want you // leader

Individual Series: // immortality blows // emir [military whump] // SV-240 // whumping the whumpers // solis // heir of the sword // // surviving alaska winters // blackthorne hall // guns for hire // left behind // never //// the fighter

Blog Masterlists: villain-enthusiast // whump-a-la-mode // yourheartonfire // // whumpwhillow // avvail // livingforthewhump // silver-ink-iron-words // oddsconvert // caffeinewitchraft [only hero x villain] // emmettnet // worldofwhumpcraft // painsandconfusion // redwingedwhump // vigilantetendencies // sociallyanxiouscryptid

#don’t have high expectations #original #reblog #organization #writing prompt #writing snippet #oc stuff #hero x villain #whump scenario #masterlist #inspiration #math sometimes #pretty photos also sometimes #consistently inconsistent

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kactus-loves-writing · 2 years

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I posted 1,222 times in 2021

60 posts created (5%)

1162 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.4 posts.

I added 3,199 tags in 2021

#heroes and villains - 755 posts

#snippet - 501 posts

#hero x villain - 409 posts

#villain - 315 posts

#prompt - 310 posts

#hero - 293 posts

#writing - 226 posts

#villains and heroes - 145 posts

#villain x hero - 140 posts

#writing prompt - 105 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#where the villain loses their memory and everyone wants to pretend that they were a good guy and use the memory loss to their advantage

My Top Posts in 2021

Everything hurt. That was the first thought that entered the hero’s mind as they slowly crawled out of unconsciousness. Their brain felt like it was banging against their skull in all directions and their exhausted muscles were stiff and sore. The hero slowly started to become aware of all the cuts and bruises scattered across their body. They couldn’t seem to recall where any of those souvenirs had come from.

The hero groaned before they could stop themself. They tried to move their aching limbs, only to realize that their wrists and ankles were tied down to something. Wait- they were sitting down. In a chair. Hero was tied to a chair - Very original.

They tried to open their eyes, but that seemed to expose them to a whole other pain. They inhaled sharply and tried to blink the blurriness from their eyes. They felt completely disoriented, and the hero despised that feeling. Almost more than they despised-

Villain.

Sitting across from them in a comfortable looking chair, their legs crossed, a thick book resting in their hands and simple reading glasses on their nose was Villain. It was far too domestic a look for someone who had made a hobby of murdering, in the hero’s opinion. The hero tried to muster up a glare, but their eyes still didn’t seem to want to focus properly.

The villain ignored their futile attempts to appear anything other than completely helpless and instead glanced up at their little hero.

“Good morning little [pet name].”

92 notes • Posted 2021-03-04 23:58:44 GMT

So I know that I was posting concepts here semi-regularly for a good while and I’ve sorta stopped… again. But! That’s because I’ve been working on a thing. It was somewhat inspired by @letthebodyfall little sketches of some of her mutual, so I decided that that would be a fun thing to do. But then I remembered I’m not exactly an artist. So I made this instead.

@writtentodeath @villain-enthusiast @letthebodyfall @chordwrites @save-the-villainous-cat @esperosisdoeswriting @avvail @playssilly @itsleighlove @gingerly-writing @some-messed-up-writing-for-you @myhusbandsasemni @crazy-sevens @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @epiclamer @defectivehero @sunflower1000 @creweemmaeec11 @nuttynutcycle @selene-stories @paperburrows @caker-baker @vigilantetendencies @yourheartonfire @nixylubouv @watercolorfreckles @akawrites000

101 notes • Posted 2021-12-02 18:30:58 GMT

Concept #8

A hero who is slightly touch starved and a villain who is very hands on and fights close range and the villain notices something is *off* with the hero. So they decide to capture the hero to figure out what exactly why they are being so ‘weird.’

106 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 16:07:36 GMT

Concept #6

Hero and Vigilante are in a relationship and then Vigilante dies and Hero is devastated.

Years later however, Hero encounters Vigilante, except now they’re a villain working for Supervillain and Hero has no idea what happened. Vigilante apparently was brought back to life somehow by Supervillain and agreed to work for them as long as they got Hero at the end of it all.

204 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 20:19:01 GMT

Concept #9

Hero is a college student and villain is their tutor. They are always very passive aggressive towards each other, but their tutor sessions are the one thing that they’re always on time for. After all, it would be pretty suspicious if they both always missed them. But due to this, everyone thinks that they have a crush on each other and they have to play along because they don’t know how else to explain it without exposing their identities.

217 notes • Posted 2021-10-17 23:36:09 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #does anyone else find it amusing that my mutual post became so popular so fast that it made it to my top 5 in a matter of weeks?

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avvail · 8 months

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Inspiration dare: pick a flower, any flower, and find a way to incorporate it into a story.

Have a nice weekend :)

The villain never really liked flowers.

The thought of displaying them in their home never really resonated them, no matter how many times the hero would tell them it helps clear the air, and it might help them think a little better.

The villain could think fine on their own. They didn’t need flowers to do that.

The hero brought them over one time. A pot of Chrysanthemums, all neat and tidy and effecting their plain home with a splash of vibrant colour.

“Aren’t they just so pretty?” the hero would say, smile warm and their eyes sparkling. The villain would always hum, frown, and then huff.

“For flowers, I suppose,” they would shrug. The hero would laugh, apparently finding their words funny. Every single time.

“I love them,” they would giggle. “They’re my favourite. But no one’s ever really given me flowers as a gift.”

The villain would then hum again, bitterly. “That so?”

It wasn’t that they didn’t care.

But they wished, every day, that they would have showed that. That even if they didn’t care for flowers, they would have taken a second out of their day to buy some for hero. To see their eyes light up, to see what they would look like when they were gifted their favourite little plants.

There were a lot of flowers lay upon hero’s grave.

No one ever gifted them to the hero, but the city knew that they loved them. It was cruel, disgusting sight, that bland, overbearing gravestone covered with hundreds upon hundreds of flowers.

Flowers that the hero would never see. Flowers that the hero would never even know they recieved.

The villain realised, on that day, staring at their grave, that the hero was their flower. They had been that splash of colour in their home. In their life. The villain resented flowers so much because they didn’t compare to the beauty of the one in front of them.

They never layed flowers on their grave.

Instead, they created a garden of Chrysanthemums to fill the void of their beloved hero. It was never quite enough. But the villain knew the hero would have loved it, adored it, even, and that was okay with them.

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avvail · 11 months

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Enemies with benefits denial and yearning and lingering touches and heartaches

The hero’s breathing hitches as they feel the villain trail kisses down their throat.

They left fire in their wake; burning through their skin with every little gentle caress along their sides, or every little brush of their fingers through their hair, down their chest, along their cheek.

They loop their arms around their neck, drawing them closer to their body. The villain is so warm. Warm, and intoxicating, concocting a combination that the hero couldn’t escape from. They were trapped in the villain’s claws, so easily, and they couldn’t find the strength to claw their way out.

“I haven’t got long,” the villain murmurs against their skin, and the hero shudders at their breath. They’re being gently laid down on their back, and they let their fingers scrape along the villain’s shoulder blades as they go. The villain fixes them with an intense look, one that has the hero’s stomach igniting with desire.

They grip their shoulders, unwilling to let go.

“It’s been weeks,” they whisper quietly, dipping their fingers under the collar of their suit. They want it off. “You don’t want to rush as much as I do.”

The villain hums, leaning down to kiss that spot under their ear. It shuts the hero up, and they know it.

There was something electric about doing this with their enemy; a palatable, forbidden excitement that made everything between them stronger than any feeling they’d ever experienced. Little flirtatious banter had expanded into something chaotic, something completely out of their control. They were wrapped around the villain’s finger, and in turn, the villain was wrapped around theirs.

The hero could give everything up to experience this forever.

That was more dangerous than this entire relationship.

“You’re greedy,” the villain hums, peeling their suit from their skin. The hero sucks in an excited breath, their heart hammering intensely in their ears. They shakily do the same, shedding the useless piece of fabric. They were desperate to feel the villain’s skin against theirs. They needed it; it was like a drug. They had been satiated with their one night stands for a while, but it had gradually evolved and slipped straight through their meticulous control.

They needed more. They needed more than just this, and that was scary.

The villain meets their eyes, as if they can sense their thoughts. The hero’s gaze flickers down to their lips.

Despite the nature of the relationship, the hero had never kissed them. It had been the only rule the villain had; kissing was too intimate. It was too romantic, and what they had wasn’t romance. It was just desire, down to the very roots.

It makes the hero’s heart ache.

“You’re not,” they whisper quietly, sliding their hands through their hair. The villain hums softly under their breath, and they see their eyes drop to their own lips. They lick them instinctively, slipping their hand to their neck. The villain cranes their head forward, and the hero can feel the heat of it sparking between them.

They would risk it all. They wanted to kiss them so desperately.

It would be so easy to close that miniscule gap. To press their lips together, and fall into a new set of desires. The hero can see it in the villain’s eyes too; they know there’s something else there, something more than just this, and they need them. Incredibly so.

But the villain put down this line and, fuck, the hero cares too much to cross that. They care too much about the villain to disrupt their clear boundary. They needed them to do it themselves, to initiate it, to show them how much they wanted this too.

They press the kiss under their jaw.

The hero swallows, their heart heavy in their chest.

“I have to go,” they whisper, their words almost choking in their throat. Their brow furrows. “I’m sorry.”

The hero feels them peeling away. They cling onto their hand as they go, until the last moment, when they’re forced to part ways. They hide away their face, ignoring the stinging sensation in their eyes.

They loved them, and they knew the villain loved them back.

But clearly, it wasn’t meant to be.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain hero #hero #villain #writing snippet #writing #my writing #avvail #avvail snippet

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avvail · 1 year

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DETECTIVE X SUPERVILLAIN

tw: heavy intoxication, kidnapping, implied sc (dub-con, nothing explicit)

The detective swirled the liquid inside of their glass, staring at the ice cubes clattering inside. The atmosphere of the bar was loud in their ears, and heat was beginning to crawl down their cheeks and through the back of their neck.

They tossed the alcohol back, the contents burning their chest, before signaling for another.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

They tilted their head, glancing at the figure that had stopped beside them. They had a hand on the bar, lips pulled into a strained smile.

The detective frowned, stifling an offended hiccup. “And who are you?”

They knew it wasn’t a good idea to drown in their sorrows, but the investigation about Supervillain had just gone down the drain, and they’d been forbidden to indulge in the case any longer.

Apparently, it was being transferred to somebody else. They felt like snorting when they’d heard that. Detective didn’t boast often, but there was no way they would close this investigation without them.

They had been so close. So close.

“A concerned party,” the figure hummed, taking a seat next to them. “That’s all you need to know.”

Detective didn’t look at them. The bartender rolled them another drink, and they knocked a few large swigs down, a heavy sigh escaping their lips.

“Do I want to know any more?” They asked.

The figure smiled fondly. “I doubt it.”

They waved a hand sharply. Everything around the edges was starting to go fuzzy, yet they hadn’t drowned in their sorrows just enough yet. Pain bloomed in their chest, unsure whether that was from their lost case, or the whiskey.

The figure was still staring at them, head resting in their hand.

“Go on, scram,” the detective slurred. “Go away.”

They seemed a little closer than before, but maybe that the just the impossible heat catching under their collar. They felt fingers brushing their hair from their eyes, but didn’t bother to pull away. After squinting quite dramatically at them, they drunkenly deduced they had a pleasant face.

“If you knew who I was, you’d hold that pretty tongue of yours,” they hummed, smiling. “Though, I find you’re boldness very amusing.”

“I’m drunk,” they grunted.

“Quite.”

Detective leaned away from their touch, finishing their—how many glasses was it now?—whiskey in a foul gulp, ice cubes clinking against the intricately cut glass. They felt those fingers on their hair again, brushing them back behind their ear. The detective stiffled a hiccup.

“Got cut from my motherfucking case,” Detective frowned, their tongue seemingly unraveling from such a simple touch. It was cool against their skin, and they hummed as it travelled a little lower, to the corner of their jaw.

“Is that so?” The figure hummed. “Poor thing.”

“It was...mine,” they huffed, clumsily trying to wave the bartender over for another drink. “It was supposed to be mine. They ain’t gonna get ’em, without...my help.”

Their lips were barely even working. The figure’s hand was stroking gently under their jaw.

“Mm, what are you doing?”

They had a coy smile on their face that a detective might have been able to see wasn’t right, but there was also this pitiful softness beneath those alluring eyes that had them drawn into them instantly. Detective’s own eyes flickered, heart beating in their ears.

“Look at you,” a hushed whisper tickled their ear. “So upset that a simple touch has you practically falling into me.”

Detective braced their hand on the counter, stopping themselves. They tried to straighten up, feeling their stomach pool as the figure rose to their feet, towering over them. Their lips were by their ears, but not before pressing them to their jaw.

They shuddered.

“Alcohol isn’t going to help you feel better, but I can,” they whispered smoothly, dizzying their senses with that tone. “After all, you’ve done such a good job trying to find me. It won’t hurt to reward you a little, will it?”

The detective sucked in a cold breath. Their drunken mind could barely even fathom what they were saying. They were Supervillain? Were they just messing with them, trying to make them feel more miserable than they already were...?

“Yeah...” They weakly smiled, not believing them. “Yeah, right.”

The detective was still grumbling incoherent words under their breath as they were helped up off their chair, warm around their waist and guiding their own arm around their shoulders. They rocked and staggered, but the figure kept them steady.

“Maybe I might indulge you and show you where my base of operations are too,” the supervillain chuckled lightly, as if they weren’t sweeping the detective away in broad daylight. “You were rather close, after all.”

Detective snorted at that. “I...was, wasn’t I?”

Even though the detective didn’t believe it really was Supervillain, the latter had them crying out their name later that night regardless.

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avvail · 2 years

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writing snippet #25

tw: implied past sc

Hero slowly blinked awake.

The covers beneath them were the most comfortable they had ever slept on, drowning their frame in a feathery dream. They stirred at the scent of faint floral, the sunlight delicately trickling onto their face through the cracked blinds.

The crime fighter stretched their arms above their head, arching their back, a small groan slipping past their lips at the satisfactory feeling. They sighed softly as they relaxed once more, squinted eyes blinking around them slowly.

They were in a bedroom they didn’t recognise.

It was nothing like their own. Large, and insanely extravagant.

Memories were fuzzy, but they could recall a trickle of them. They were at the party, a huge one, hosted by a man they were supposed to be investigating. It was a case of reporting known guests to tail any wanted criminals who were closely connected to the man, and trying to track down where his shady operations were taking place.

Hero had been able to slip in, completely undetected. Their partner on the mission had done the same, and suggested they should split up for an hour to cover more ground, and meet up later to drive forward.

Except, Hero hadn’t seen them again.

They rubbed their eyes, drawing their fingers through their messy hair as they slowly dragged themselves up into a sitting position.

What had happened?

Hero remembered entertaining a group of guests, blending in as best they could. They had been offered drinks; Hero had accepted them. It was stupid, but they weren’t willing to blow their cover. What after that?

Everything else was a blur of walls and moving ground, hands along their body, muddled feelings and faint voices. Everytime they tried to remember, their mind throbbed painfully, and they stopped.

Hero pushed the duvet off them, and glanced down.

Oh.

That’s what happened. The hero blushed from head to toe, drawing the covers further around themselves. Their heart began pounding in their chest as they glanced to the side, eyeing up the empty space beside them. The pillow wasn’t made, so they were sure somebody else had been laying next to them.

Hero bit their lip and groaned, letting their head fall into their hands.

They were such an idiot. They shouldn’t have started drinking, and most of all, they should have stopped themselves when they realised it was getting too much.

Where was their partner? They wondered briefly if they were okay, and hoped they weren’t worrying about them.

Hero pressed their lips together and shuffled off the bed. Their hips were sore and their legs felt like jelly as they slipped them off the edge. On the bedside table, they noticed a folded shirt and some underwear. Their cheeks lit red as they noticed a pack of condoms in the corner.

They plucked off a small note, their weary eyes glancing over.

Clothes are still being washed. Wear these for the time being.

Hero frowned slightly. It was strangely polite for a drunken one night stand; washing their clothes?

It felt odd as they slipped on the oversized tee, their muscles aching as they bent down to slip the underwear on. It smelled fresh and floral, like lavender. The hero rummaged around until they found a pair of socks, feeling sheepish as they tidied their side of the bed.

They felt out of place. What rich suitor did they convince to drag them home with them that night? Hero glanced at the door.

They would have to get their clothes and leave. Their was no sign of their phone. No doubt their partner would have been blowing it up by now, wondering if they were okay. Had they left it at the party?

Hero bit their lip, pushing open the door. They needed to get their stuff and get out of here.

As they stepped out of the room, they couldn’t stop the loud gasp from escaping their lips. Two people, standing either side of the door, seemed almost startled too, heads whipping around simultaneously at them. One of their eyes widened, a shocked expression beffalling their face as they slowly reached around to their belt, gripping something the hero couldn’t see.

The other quickly shook their head, and the suited man froze, his shoulders tense.

“Good morning,” he forced out, his voice strained. The hero felt stupidly embarrassed like this, stood with only a shirt covering them. They shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, wondering if they should retreat back into the safety of the room.

Just who was this person to have people practically guarding their doors?

“M...Morning,” they whispered quietly, too self conscious of their appearance. They prayed their weren’t any marks visible. They might just let the ground swallow them up if there was. They shifted uncomfortably, their eagerness to leave growing stronger and stronger by the minute.

The man cleared his throat, his eyes darting anywhere but the hero. “The kitchen is that way. At the end of the hallway, down the stairs.”

Hero swallowed. “Right. Okay, thank you.”

They dipped their head, skittishly darting down the corridor. Their cheeks burned hot and the collar of their shirt felt like it was seering against their skin. They clambered down the stairs, clinging onto the banister as they went, before they followed the path into the kitchen.

It smelled of cooking. Really good cooking, they wanted to add. The smell was appetising and the hero’s stomach grumbled hungrily, wrapping an arm around their torso.

“Hello, Hero,” called a voice from beside them, causing their head to whip around at lightening speed. Horror gripped them as they stared at Supervillain’s face, and their stupidly devilish smirk.

“Have a nice sleep?”

#hero x supervillain #supervillain x hero #hero and supervillain #supervillain and hero #supervillain #hero #hero x villain #my writing #writing #not a prompt #writing snippet #heroes and villains #hero and villain #villain and hero #hero villain #c-c-c-condoms???#on my blog???#big yuck #avvail snippet

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avvail · 1 year

Text

writing snippet #27

tw: implied past kidnapping & torture

“You have a...what?”

Leader’s eyebrow perked up like they were offended, turning to face the sidekick of the beloved Hero sharply.

“Are you deaf?” they scoffed. “I have a mission for you.”

Sidekick swallowed down the uneasiness in their stomach. The tears building in the back of their eyes, the dryness in their mouth. They had barely been back at the Agency for two weeks after the time they’d spent captive by the mercenary Supervillain had hired.

They had barely made it out alive.

The bruises and the scars on their skin was enough evidence for that.

Sidekick had always been the joking, smiling teamate, that could crack a joke in the most disturbing of times and carry themselves with such ease and playfulness. They even found themselves falling into that same routine right now.

A forced grin on their face and a breathless chuckle falling from their lips, as if it was funny.

“I don’t understand...”

Maybe it was because they weren’t the serious, brooding one of the team, or the one that was comfortable opening up about their trauma or insecurities.

Maybe it was because everybody saw them as indestructible, since they were always the one being carefree and foolish. But Sidekick wasn’t indestructible. Did Leader care so little that they won’t even wait until they’re fully healed?

“Hero and the team are somewhat preoccupied at the moment, so you’re the only available one,” Leader explained grimly, turning to the file on their desk.

Sidekick’s lip was wobbling. “But...Leader, I don’t think I’m ready to go back on the field yet.”

The leader sneered. “Why?”

Why? They’d spent all their resources trying to rescue them quick enough. They couldn’t have forgotten.

“I...I don’t even know long I was with that mercenary Supervillain hired,” they breathed, muscles aching at the resurfacing memories. “I was tortured. I still haven’t healed, physically and...a-and mentally.”

The leader sighed heavily. They plucked the file off their desk, cold eyes turning on them. They seemed to look them up and down like they were dirt.

“You look fine to me,” they scoffed. “Laughing and joking and having that little party the other day? Stop being dramatic, Sidekick. Now, read the file. We’ll send you and a team out tomorrow.”

The sidekick’s breath hitched. What if the mercenary was waiting for them? What if Supervillain was still after them? What would they do if they had to go though all that pain and torture again?

Their vision blurred slightly, lungs getting smaller and smaller. They should say something. They really should. But Leader wouldn’t believe them.

“Okay,” they whispered shakily, taking the file. “I’ll do it.”

Sidekick couldn’t sleep that night. Nobody was aware when soft sobbing started from under their door.

#hero and villain #villain and hero #sidekick #leader #writing snippet #snippet #story snippet #not a prompt #hero villain #villain hero #my writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero mention #avvail #avvail snippet

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avvail · 2 years

Text

“I haven't had my first kiss either.”

“Hmm... what about if we gave our first kisses to each other?”

had to as soon as i saw this prompt by @creweemmaeec11

–

The villain raised a single brow.

“Are you really willing to do that?” They murmured, but their voice was flat and it didn’t seem as though they were all that bothered by the hero’s proposal. Hero, in turn, seemed visibly eager, shuffling closer to them with a small grin.

“Well, won’t it be a good opportunity?” They pressed. “Then we’ll have good experience for our lover, right? We can help each other.”

The villain picked at their nails nonchalantly. It didn’t seem like they were willing to put up a fight, or deny the hero’s proposal. “Yeah. Alright.”

Hero’s eyes lit up with a strange sort of excitement. “Great.” They turned their body so they were facing them, shifting even closer towards them. The villain’s eyes found theirs and their hands fell back into their lap.

Hero swallowed. They hadn’t realised what a pretty colour their eyes were.

“Okay.” This time their voice wasn’t so confident. “So, shall we just...?”

The hero gently grabbed their wrists and placed their hands on their shoulders. The villain didn’t fight or even make an attempt to pull their arms away, letting the hero do the same.

“Like that, right? This should be fine.”

The villain sighed and their brow kicked up. “Hero, I know you haven’t kissed anybody, but you’re proving you have never seen it either.”

Their cheeks went a blazing red, face wrinkling into a grimace. “This is just practice! It doesn’t have to look good.”

Villain averted their gaze and shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Huffing, the hero squirmed into a more comfortable position, an inch closer, and their eyes darted down to the villain’s lips.

“I’m going to lean forward now.”

“Stop commentating and hurry up. You’re making it awkward.”

Before they snapped a fustrated reply, the hero gingerly leaned closer, tilting their head, their lips pressing against the villain’s. It was softer than they had imagined, and they quickly pulled back, ears pink.

“How was that?”

The villain stared at them in disbelief. “Hero, that was a peck.”

“We touched lips. It’s still a kiss.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss back,” they murmured, sliding their hands closer to their neck. The hero released a sharp sigh and waved their arm.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s try again then,” they demanded, squeezing their shoulders. “For longer, this time.”

They both met in the middle and the hero was as surprised the first time when the villain pressed their lips against theirs, a little firmer. They squeezed their eyes shut.

“Move your lips,” the villain whispered against their mouth. The hero hummed in response and they shyly obeyed, making the villain smirk devilishly.

The hero’s eyes snapped open in surprise when the villain’s hand gripped the back of their neck, pulling them closer, and their lips moved more feverishly against theirs than before. They were moving expertly against theirs, making shivers roll down their spine.

Heat burned their cheeks as they clumsily tried to match the villain’s movements, feeling more like they were being devoured than practicing innocently.

When the villain pulled away, the hero gasped for breath, their stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“I thought...” They were breathless and weak in the knees. “I thought you’d never kissed anyone!”

With a smirk on their lips, the villain merely chuckled. “Well. Maybe I lied.”

But before Hero could scold them, Villain was already kissing them again.

#prompt fill #not my prompt #hero x villain #villain x hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain hero #hero #villain #snippet #writing snippet #avvail #avvail snippet

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avvail · 1 year

Note

ok so since it’s the spookiest day of the year, i was wondering if you could write something about a witch villain putting a spell on hero😏😏🧙🧙

thanks pookie!

-danny devito anon

danny i love you, i’m so sorry this took so long ;(

tw: spells/mind manipulation

There was a flash of gold, like stars in their eyes, before the hero was flung back by a gust of wind, slamming against the wall. A breath of pain escaped their lips as they crumbled to the ground, head throbbing.

Sparks popped in their vision, staggering against the pull of gravity. A hot feeling pulsed through their veins, and they wearily blinked upwards, their eyes finding the villain’s figure through the dust.

They squinted, thoughts slipping away, before a dazed smile appeared on their lips.

“Villain...” They drawled, taking a shaking step forward. It seemed like they’d lost all their strength, and crashed abruptly into their arms, sinking their weight into them.

An intoxicating scent filled their senses, a sigh slipping past their lips. They looped their arms around their neck, pressing themselves closer, peering up at the villain’s face. Even though it was full of scratches, they looked so beautiful.

So beautiful that it wasn’t fair.

Their heart fluttered in their chest, words slurring together as they tried to string together a coherent sentence. The witch’s lip curled into a smirk.

“Darling,” they purred, pressing a gentle hand against their forehead. “You’re burning up. Something the matter?”

Hero melted under the touch, keening softly. Their skin was like fire against theirs, tingling through their body. Idle thoughts swirled in their mind. They could only think of Villain. Just Villain, and doing whatever they wanted.

“So pretty,” they sighed, drowsily letting their head drop on their shoulder. “So warm...”

The villain chuckled, their arm heavy against their waist. Their hand slipped off their forehead, trailing down their cheek. Hero blinked deliriously and almost purred at the soft stroking under their jaw, making them shiver.

“Want to follow me?” Villain whispered gently into their ear. The hero squirmed at the feeling. “I’ll take you to a really fascinating place. How about it?”

Their interlocked their fingers, leaning back and barely even tugging the hero with them. They seemed to do that all on their own, chasing the warmth, chasing these feelings, desperate to be close to Villain.

They obeyed, unaware of what they had in store for them at their lair.

#ask #hero and villain #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain and hero #villain hero #hero #villain #writing #my writing #not a prompt #snippet #writing snippet #avvail snippet

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avvail · 2 years

Text

writing snippet #22

tw: captivity, restraints, ransom situation, bit of gore (knife violence), blood

Everything was blurry.

The very moment Hero came to their senses, they were met with nothing but a mess of distorted colours and whirling images, fading in and out. A bright light pierced their eyes, burning their retina, displaying those strange swirls and colourful dots across their vision.

What happened?

Hero could hardly remember. One moment, they were on patrol, admiring the cool air of the winter solstice. The tickle of snow on their cheeks and the redness pinching the tip of their nose. It was bitterly cold on the rooftop, but it was disregarded by the flow of peaceful tranquility.

Until it wasn’t.

There was a stinging pain, blaring against the side of their temple, before they felt the familiar smack of concrete meeting with their body.

They sluggishly blinked their eyes, the lingering pain ricocheting up their spine and wracking their bones. That was right. Somebody had attacked them. Knocked them out with swift ease, before dragging them into the cramped space of a car boot, and locking them away into the void of darkness.

Pressure pressed uncomfortably at the back of their eyes as they sent their hazy gaze upwards. The effort made them wheeze in pain, aware of each drag rattling their lungs. The push of gravity on their bones was relentlessly heavy and hard to ignore. They tipped their head back and was met with the glow of a cheap, hanging light.

They gathered they were underground. It was a stereotypical square room, where they were surrounded by dark, decrepit walls and a rough, dirty floor. The chair beneath them was bolted securely down, showing no signs of moving when the hero lazily yanked on the rope binding their wrists together.

Another wave of nausea ripped into their stomach, causing them to groan.

The sound was muffled and quiet. Either their hearing hadn’t cleared yet, or they were gagged.

Possibly both.

They squinted their eyes through the veil of darkness, wincing when something moved in the shadows beside them. A voice echoed in the room, calling their name.

“Hero.”

Their eyes were too heavy, too blurry to muster a glare at the looming figure towering over them. Their voice was thrumming, yet the hero could hardly make out a sound.

A firm slap from the back of their hand solved that problem. They gasped in pain as their head was rocked from the momentus strength, ears clearing and vision going crisp. Their mouth tasted of blood and the smell of copper invaded their nose.

“That’s better,” the voice chipped in calmly, arm returning to their side. Hero’s eyes bulged and they tried to steady the heavy beating of their heart. It seemed fear had caught up with them, seizing their mind with the swiftness of a rabid animal.

It showed in their eyes. The captor noticed. They relished in the way the hero flinched upon leaning forward, hooking a gloved finger beneath the fabric of the gag, and pulling it down. It fell beneath their chin, leaving their hero sucking in a sharp breath of air, painful coughs getting caught in their throat.

The corners of their lips were raw, the flesh dry and bumpy with various cuts. Hero swallowed, and it felt like glass shards.

“You were easier to catch than they said,” the figure hummed, eyes masking even a slither of emotion. The bottom half of their face was hidden. Beneath the light, the hero just barely got a keen glance at their outfit.

They looked like a soldier. Or even possibly an assassin.

“You...” Hero’s voice lost it’s strength immediately, and it felt like knives were clawing up their throat as they jerked forward and coughed violently. Their captor didn’t take their steely eyes off of them for a second.

“I would save your voice, if I were you,” they hummed, tilting their head to reach for their belt. Hero’s vision was swimming too much to see clearly. “You’re going to need it.”

They grit their teeth, jaw aching with nasty bruises. Why were they so bashed up? The hero didn’t remember a fight before they lost consciousness, teetering on the ends of their thoughts.

“My...friends, will be able to find me,” they hoarsly choked, gathering enough scraps of energy to lace their words with a fond smugness. The hero knew something they didn’t. They wanted to grin triumphantly, but their mouth was too sore to do so.

It didn’t stop them from doing it in their head.

“I know,” the captor hummed, brandishing their dagger in front of them. Their hand came back to their face, but the hero whimpered, turning away. Fingers dug into their cheeks and yanked them forward. The gag was pushed back into their mouth.

Hero murmured some muffled words, their heart racing in their chest. The figure seemed to understand what they were saying perfectly.

“It’s necessary,” they explained blankly. “You’re going to make a lot of noise.”

Sweat beaded on their forehead, fidgeting nervously against their bonds. Their arms were twisted uncomfortably behind their back, digging into the edges of the chair, but it was washed away by the numbness of terror.

The hand they placed on their thigh was almost gentle. It was almost soothing. The blade cut open the fabric of their pant leg, exposing the flesh underneath. The hero released a muffled cry.

They knew. They knew.

Tears flooded down their cheeks as they went rigid, yanking desperately against the rope. It burned their flesh red raw, but the panic that shot through their body like electricity numbed the insignificant pain they inflicted on themselves. They were shaking their head, rocking their skull, begging through the gag for them to stop.

Those eyes briefly flickered to meet theirs, but there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy, or even kindness hiding within them.

“These people payed a lot of money to ransom you, Hero,” they drawled smoothly, stroking their thigh gently. “It’s time to be scared.”

The knife plunged deep into their flesh, and the hero screamed like they had never screamed before. They jerked violently as white flashed across their vision, the tears streaming down their face.

Blood gushed across their skin as the blade ripped through their flesh, digging out the tracking device that had been planted by the agency.

Not even hours later, it arrived at the company’s front door, wrapped in a pretty little box.

#hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #hero villain #villain hero #hero #heroes #whumper #whumpee #snippet #writing snippet #not a prompt #writing #my writing #whump #avvail #avvail snippet

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avvail · 2 years

Text

writing snippet #24

tw: tasers/electrocution

Hero flipped to avoid another attack, balancing on their hands before the momentum carried them off over the scattered crates of the warehouse. They landed on bent knees and dove out of the way when Thief went to smack them with their heel, kicking down at where their form had once been.

The hero clenched their jaw and their fist connected with Thief’s exposed side, right where they knew the kidney’s were. The master thief held back a choked gasp and collapsed onto their knees, smacking into the concrete. Hero grinned under their breath and swung onto their feet, grabbing the back of their collar.

Thief could hardly fight when they were jerked back, a rough hand pinning them onto their back. Under the mask, their face wrinkled in pain, taking jagged breaths.

“Cute,” they wheezed. “Playing dirty?”

Hero grit their teeth and frowned. “Tell me what you want with this stuff.”

The warehouse was barren, the security droids deactivated when Thief had snuck into the place. Some of the crates were smuggling a powerful energy source that had started going missing in various places. Hero had pinpointed the final location and managed to apprehend the thief before they could get their hands on it.

Except, they hadn't expected this particular thief to be behind the crime.

Their muscles were aching; they were a formidable opponent. Almost too good. Hero had been bested by them far too many times, and they were going to put them away for good this time.

“My motto is steal, don’t tell,” Thief forced a grin, but their voice was still strained from the attack on their kidney’s. “Although, if you’re willing to give me a little kiss...”

The hero went hot around the collar, but swiftly hid it by violently jostling them, yanking them up by the front of their shirt. Thief groaned softly, pain rippling up to their ribs.

“We can either do this here, or a prison cell,” Hero spat, tightening their grip until their knuckles went white. “Your choice.”

Thief tilted their head. “How about neither?”

Beneath them, their legs jerked upwards, knocking Hero forward against their hips, a surprised gasp escaping them. They had to let go of their shirt to brace themselves against the floor, palms smacking into the concrete painfully. Thief took this opportunity and wrapped their legs around their waist, flipping them both over.

Hero felt the air being ripped from their lungs, as they landed on their stomach, Thief’s weight hot and heavy against their lower back. Their arm was twisted behind their back and the other pinned above their head, tearing an angry groan from their lips.

Thief sighed in satisfaction and relaxed, gripping their wrist until the hero caved, letting out a painful cry.

“Now, this is much prettier sight,” they purred. “But unfortunately, I’m on a tight schedule here. I ought to get going.”

Hero felt a hard fist smack into the side of their temple, and they saw a plethora of bright stars. They wheezed against the ground and rolled clumsily onto their side, trying to blink away the haziness. They briefly saw the whirling figure of Thief cranking open one of their crates, and they grit their teeth, determination surging through them.

They dragged themselves onto their feet and darted towards them, throwing a particularly nasty roundhouse kick that Thief only just narrowly avoided. Their foot smashed against the crate, reducing it to nothing but splinters. They landed and felt their vision blur, but directed a deadly glare towards them.

Thief was empty handed, but they could tell they were shaking with anger. “God sake, Hero, give it a rest!”

So the hero definitely didn’t give it a rest.

They attacked with more verocity than before, their fists flying in anger and being blocked expertly each time. It was truly astounding how Thief could keep up so effortlessly, but they seemed to grow bored of their games and grabbed their wrist, flinging them against the wall.

Their shoulder clipped against a mess of wires and an electric circuit popped as they sunk to the ground. It sparked and coughed and suddenly, they were hearing mechanical clunking and whirring. They squinted across the warehouse to find the security droids online, their eyes glowering a bright red.

Hero gasped as they jolted towards their direction, and suddenly an influx of them were rolling towards them, the smooth patch where their hand would be sparking with lights. They scrambled to their feet and desperately searched for the thief. They had already hopped high into the rafters, with something tucked under their arm and a grappling hook clutched in the other.

Hero dodged a swing from the security droid, not fond of the taser’s they planned to subdue them with, despite not being the real threat at hand.

“Thief!” They screamed, forced to take their eyes off them to kick away one of the droids. It tipped over and unceremoniously clattered to the ground.

Thief balanced on the railings, sending them a disasterously pleased grin. “Good luck!”

They blew them a kiss, before they were yanked through the open window by the grappling hook, disappearing off into the night. Hero cursed under their breath and evaded another swing. They kicked away a few more pathetic security droids before diving across the other side of the broken crates, heading towards the exit.

But Hero hadn’t expected one knocked down security droid to thrust it’s taser against their calf, and the hero definitely wasn’t expecting the agonising pain that engulfed them. They clenched their jaw, leg going numb, until they crumbled under their weight and smacked into the ground.

They felt another security droid jam a taser into their stomach, and the hero saw white. They let out a painful shriek as their body spasmed, excruciating pain wracking their bones and zapping up their spine. It only seemed to grow worse, until their mind started to shut down and they could hardly breathe.

What was going on? These were meant to subdue the criminals, not kill them!

Tears welled in their eyes, their body too rigid to move under the bouts of electricity pounding through them. They couldn’t even open their mouth to say they were Hero – like that might work. Static pulsed through their skull, until they heard a smash echoing around them, and the taser’s were ripped away from their body.

The hero sucked in a desperate breath, but it felt like fire was climbing up their throat. They deteriorated into a violent fit of coughs, gasping for air. They curled their arms around their stomach, pressing against the flesh, their body still twitching slightly from the aftermath of the attack.

Their head swarmed with a throbbing headache, and they felt arms slip under their legs and across their back, lifting them off the floor. They whimpered at the fiery pain and pressed against the warm chest, unaware that tears had slid down their cheeks sometime earlier. There was a rush of wind and their stomach was churning with the swift sensations, like whoever it was was jumping down from once surface to another.

They groaned in pain and tried blinking their eyes open, but the wind pierced their eyes like knives and only made them shrivel up more into the comfortable chest. They felt the ground again and their eyes flickered open once more, blinking back the black spots on the edges of their vision.

They could hear someone’s voice, fuzzy in their ears. Hero released a shuddering sigh and shifted closer into their arms, grateful they had saved them from that excruciating pain, now a dull ache that occasionally sparked more painfully than before.

“I should bring a taser to our next fight,” the voice murmured, dryly amused. “They make you very clingy.”

Shit. Hero recognised that voice. Their body felt too heavy to pull away, simply trying to muster up enough strength to squint their eyes through the darkness of the night.

“Thief...” They slurred quietly, causing the criminal to sigh heavily and hold them tighter.

“Be quiet. You’re a real nuisance, you know that?”

Hero’s fogged up brain finally came to a shocking conclusion, almost jerking them awake. Thief had just saved them from the security droids; they had the energy source, and they had the opportunity to escape. Why hadn’t they?

They felt something brush against their cheek, so soft they leaned into it, but it was gone before they could figure out what it was.

“And here I thought you could handle some silly droids,” Thief mocked, making the hero frown. “I was in my right mind to leave you there.”

Hero’s throat felt tight as they clutched their stomach tighter. “You should’ve.”

“Yeah,” Thief muttered lazily, shrugging their shoulders. “Probably.”

“No, really...” Hero forced a weak smile as the sound of distant sirens reached their ears. “Secruity droids alert the police. You’re going to be arrested.”

Thief’s eyes widened as their head snapped to the side, straightening up. The screeching of police sirens and the roaring engines were drawing closer in mere moments, and the thief’s expression tightened in anger for just a split second.

A sharp clacking sound dragged their attention back towards the hero, gaze dropping to their arm. They saw a handcuff around their wrist, and stared at Hero, seeing the other locked around their own. They were smiling dazily, their eyes unfocused in the darkness.

“Can’t run,” they muttered softly, trying to chuckle, but it seemed they had used all their remaining energy to shackle them both together. “I caught you.”

Thief raised a brow, before a smirk rose on their lips. They pulled Hero closer, brushing a strand of their hair behind their ear with their gloved hand. “Hero, what makes you think I won’t just take you with me?”

They gently played with their locks. “This doesn’t stop me. You think I’m going to sit here and wait to get arrested?”

Hero’s eyes were glittering in confusion as they tried to decipher what Thief was saying. The criminal sighed in amusement and shook their head, wedging their hand out of the handcuff. Hero hadn’t even been able to tighten it properly, but it was to be expected.

It was a cute attempt, though.

They pulled away from them, almost pleased when the hero tried to clutch onto them, grumbling under their breath. Thief scooped up their prize and tucked it under their arm again. Hero watched them as the sirens grew louder, piercing through their skull.

“It was nice, as always,” Thief sighed with a smile on their face, rolling their shoulders back with satisfying pop. They stepped over the hero and turned back to give them a wink through the mask. “You owe me for this. I want you to remember that.”

Hero rolled onto their side with a pained gasp, their fist digging into the ground below them. They could only muster a frustrated glare as the thief jogged across the concrete, sending them an enthusiastic wave.

“See you, love you!” They called, before spinning around, and disappearing off into the darkness. Hero clenched their jaw and fell back onto their back as the flashing blue and red lights cascaded across their figure, dancing on the ground.

They closed their eyes. “Fuck you.”

#hero x thief #thief x hero #hero and thief #thief and hero #i think a flirty thief and a hero that takes their job way too seriously is now my favourite dynamic woo #hero and villain #villain and hero #hero villain #villain hero #hero villain snippet #hero and villain snippet #writing snippet #story snippet #not a prompt #thief #hero #writing #my writing #avvail snippet

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avvail · 2 years

Text

writing snippet #23

tw: murder, mentioned/implied child exploitation, blood, past captivity

Mercenary grit his teeth from behind his mask, releasing the bruising grip he had on the boy’s arm. He quickly collapsed onto the concrete ground with a pained yelp, cradling his torso.

It was a child. No older than a teenager, he suspected.

His padded clothes and helmet had concealed any childish features Mercenary could now blatantly see, his narrowed eyes darting across his bloodied face swiftly.

“How old are you?” He murmured slowly, trying to hide his anger. The child’s eyes were narrowed into thin slits, shooting him a deadly glare.

“Go to hell,” he spat. “I’m not telling you anything!”

Mercenary closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He slid his dagger back into his belt, shaking off the sticky blood on the knuckles of his gloves. It took him all but one swift movement before he had a fistful of his jacket in his hand, jostling him off the floor. The child gasped in surprise and immediately started squirming, but his strength was unmatched against that of a fully grown adult.

“Let go!” He demanded, smacking his small fists against his wrists. “I’ll kill you.”

“I think you’ve done enough of that today,” the mercenary hummed humourously. His job had been a simple one – hired to assassinate a particularly gnarly crime boss before her destructive influence spread any more than her rivals wanted. It wasn’t in the plan to show up and see that somebody had done the job for him. He would have reigned himself in if he had realised he was attacking a child.

The boy winced as pain flared across his face, spitting a mouthful of blood on the ground. Mercenary spared him a single glance before speaking.

“You do realise you killed a crime boss?”

The child continued in his useless struggle, feet dragging against the ground. “Of course I do. I work for her.”

“Is that so?” He replied grimly.

“Not willingly.” He frowned. “She...She had me working with these pervy old men at the club downtown. On Coral Row.”

Recognition sparked in the mercenary’s chest, and his grip on the jacket tightened. He’d heard of that place in one of the files he was given upon accepting the job.

“How old are you?” He growled.

“Not telling,” the boy huffed, sweat beading on his forehead. He was starting to tire himself out. “She took me away from my family and there was nothing I could do! I tried to hire you to do it for me but you wouldn’t!”

Mercenary suddenly stopped in his tracks. That gave the child a chance to regain his footing, finally freeing himself from the man’s hold and stumbling away from him. The mercenary sighed lazily under his breath and gripped his wrist firmly, yanking him back before he could make a break for it.

“Are you trying to tell me you came to hire me?”

He stared at his face. Even though it was covered in blood, exceptionally pale and worn out, Mercenary didn’t recognise him. The story didn’t ring a bell. The boy’s face was twisted into a frustrating sneer.

“I came to you with hundreds of pounds,” he yelled in anger. “But you turned me away.”

“I’m more expensive than that, kid,” he sniffed.

The boy’s shoulders sagged. “That’s what you said last time. I was desperate – you didn’t even give me a chance.”

“Then you should’ve just hired another contract killer,” Mercenary shrugged lazily, tugging the boy along. He was hesitant, but this time he didn’t fight.

“They said you were the best.”

“Oh, that’s flattering.”

The child fell into silence. Mercenary threw a brief glance behind him to find that tears were starting to collect in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. He sighed heavily and shook his head. This really shouldn’t be his responsibility.

“Do you realise what you’ve done?” Mercenary spoke calmly. “You’ve killed a crime boss.”

“You said that already.”

“It’s called reinforcing a point.”

“I just wanted to go home,” he sniffled, and Mercenary noted how his voice had started wobbling. “I just wanted to see my family again.”

He sighed out loud heavily, eyes darting across the alleyway, before he took a sharp right. He would have travelled by rooftop by now, but he couldn’t just abandon this kid. Taking him with him simply wasn’t an option either.

“Again, you killed a crime boss,” he gently pressed, keeping his voice as firm as he could. He didn’t know how to console a crying child, so he was trying to make sure the boy wouldn’t start screeching in front of him. “It won’t be that easy anymore.”

The child fell into silence.

Mercenary would find him a place to clean up, and stay low for the time being. He could cache in a favour with an old friend, and keep the child out of harm’s way.

It was the best he could do.

#oh no #the urge to #to flesh these into actual characters #writing #writing snippet #story snippet #snippet #not a prompt #mercenary #contract killers #child #my writing #villains #father figure type beat????#oh my days yes please #crime #crime boss #avvail snippet

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