#manipulative villain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaotic-orphan · 2 months

Note

Hey!! I'm a die hard fan of your intoxicating fear series! Will you be continuing it? (Also great work on the febwhump series :))

Intoxicating Fear (Xii)

Part one here || masterpost || continued from here

Hello!! Yes!! Thank you for the ask! Intoxicating fear is always being worked on in the background, it is one of my on-going series!!

*~*~*~*~*

Kit sat at his kitchen table. His apartment was quiet. Distantly he checked his phone to see two hours had passed, and he was still sitting at his table, staring at his door.

This had to be a joke.

A dream.

Kit clicked his fingers and felt electricity running through his index finger and thumb. He stared at the lightning, so familiar, so achingly his.

No compulsion muting it in his brain. No Ambrose, just Kit. Something wet hit his cheek and Kit flinched, eyes darting back to the door, around the room. Searching for Him.

Kit didn’t— he never cried before him. Never. He wasn’t weak, he was… he was…

He was…

Kit stood so suddenly the chair fell backwards, his chest tightening around his ribs. He whirled at the crash, stumbling back against the table and flinching again. He couldn’t breathe. His entire arm cackled into a glove of electricity sparking off of it, spitting tiny bolts at him but he still couldn’t— breathe!

Breathe! Just breathe!

Kit stuttered out laboured breaths, gasping and gasping and not getting any oxygen and he clutched his chest, just above his heart, his ears rushing as if he were beside a waterfall but he wasn’t.

The air was getting thinner. It seemed like every exhale had diminished returns on inhales and his lungs couldn’t function properly enough for him to catch up and bring them to balance.

He felt something bubbling under the surface and he gasped, curling in on himself as it built and built and gathered and grew and Kit couldn’t breathe he needed to— Kit felt a rush of pain arch from his brain to his chest and a bolt of electricity erupted from Kit’s chest and sent him flying backwards. His back thumped against the wood, stealing the air from his lungs and then he was sliding down the door until his arse hit the floor.

He stayed there for a minute, blinking, finally able to take a breath. Then he dragged his knees up to his chest, resting his crossed arms on them and dipped his head and he started to cry. The sobs wracked through his entire body, from his toes to his head. His muscles seemed to tighten and release with every wheeze of breath stuttered out through trembling lips. Streams of snot and tears pooled on the floor beneath him but he couldn’t find it in him to notice or care.

After a while he raised his head and bit his arm to stop himself from screaming out every little injustice Ambrose had inflicted upon him. To him. At him.

Even now, even this… pathetic wallowing was only happening because Ambrose allowed it. He needed to stop crying and get up and do something!

He could run away. As soon as the thought entered his brain it started to melt away until the urge was gone and he was back on the floor fighting with himself.

He had to tell Superhero, warn the Heroes about Ambrose, about what he could do and they could— the thought dissolved in his mind, like sugar in water, and Kit was left sitting on the floor.

He could alter the rhythms of his nervous system and—

Kit stood suddenly, furious. His mind recalling the last conversation he had with Ambrose vividly.

Kit stared as Ambrose retracted his hand and walked towards the table. He tilted his head at the Villain. “What brought all this about?”

“Hmm?” He asked, even though Kit knew he heard him just fine.

“Why the change of heart?”

Ambrose let out a soft sigh as he plucked Kit’s phone from the table and turned back to face him. “I believe I already made my intentions clear, Kit.”

“Clearly you didn’t if I’m asking for clarification.”

Ambrose’s left eye twitched. Imperceptible, and yet Kit noticed. He’s noticed a lot of hidden things about the Villain despite his best efforts of ignoring him.

“Do you want a long winded explanation followed by a beating or can I just leave you here with a couple of commands and be on my way?” Ambrose asked with a polite smile. Kit’s eyes widened. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward unconsciously at the thought that Ambrose was going to give him his freedom — today?!

Ambrose chuckled, nodding his head at the chair that Ambrose previously sat in. Kit was walking forwards before he even thought anything more about it, eager. Too eager, but Ambrose knew he was eager so what would he really be hiding?

“Good lad,” said Ambrose with a happy hum undercutting his words. Kit stared up at Ambrose, waiting for him to turn and face him even though Kit knew that Ambrose didn’t have to look at Kit to use his powers (or did he?) but he waited patiently anyways. Then his patience abandoned him and Kit found himself reaching out to tug at Ambrose’s shirt like a child who was lost and trying to find their parents.

Kit retracted his hand and sat back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest with a soft tch. “Do you wanna get out of here, or what?”

Ambrose finally turned to face Kit with an amused smile on his face. “I do, so be good for me.”

Ambrose stared down into Kit’s eyes, his lips that unnatural shade of red as he spoke his commands without stuttering or second-guessing once. Kit kind of hated him for it.

You can’t run away. You can’t disappear. You can’t kill yourself. You can’t move apartment. You can’t warn your Hero friends about me.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed at the last one, but Ambrose just smiled knowingly. “Oh come on. We both know you would try and worm your way out of this if you had other Heroes support. Besides, you don’t want anyone else to get hurt do you?”

Kit didn’t answer him.

“Good. Now,” Ambrose hummed, grabbing the side of Kit’s head resting his thumb just under Kit’s cheek and angling his head up. Kit’s hand shot to Ambrose’s wrist on instinct, not knowing what Ambrose was about to do. “Relax, Mallory. This is just to ensure you comply with the terms of our deal.”

Kit wanted to properly fight against him now. Kit was hoping he would be able to find a loophole in the agreement given time. That he would somehow be able to leverage it against Ambrose and turn it on its head but he can’t do that if Ambrose forces him to obey.

“Isn’t the whole arrangement supposed to be about obedience?” Kit tried. Ambrose’s dark eyes stared down at him impassively.

“What?”

“Our deal,” said Kit again, licking his lips trying to get some moisture back into them. “We shook on it. Don’t you trust that I’ll obey because I don’t want someone else to get hurt?”

Oh Kit, Kit flinched when he heard Ambrose’s voice in his head. It felt unnatural. Wrong. The fucker’s eyes practically sparkling down at him. That really is a valiant effort on your part, but we both know why you’re really hesitant.

Kit didn’t even have time to pull away before Ambrose was speaking.

“You will obey the terms of our—” Kit only managed to register the words before he was turning his head away and pushing Ambrose’s hand off him. Ambrose just tightened his grip and tilted Kit’s head back to look into Ambrose’s black hole like eyes. “Agreement. Our deal. No take backs, no work arounds, no loopholes.”

Kit froze as he felt the commands pierce his brain like ice shards, sending a shiver down his spine and working through every muscle in his body, binding Kit to their deal.

Ambrose let go of Kit then and smiled down at him. Kit sat in the chair, not wanting to even look at the villain beside him. It all felt too real. Too final. He felt disgusted with himself for even allowing this to be his only recourse to a semi-normal life.

Ambrose set Kit’s phone down on the table. Kit stared at it numbly. “Well, that’s that then, Mallory. I’ll be off. I put my number in your phone, so I can contact you if I need to but otherwise enjoy your freedom.”

Kit stared at the table and didn’t glance up or react in anyway. Ambrose grabbed his overcoat and put it on, then walked to Kit’s front door and opened it.

Kit’s heart ached as he remembered the time he had tried to escape. How perfect it would have been if he had just been fast enough.

Ambrose stepped outside the door and Kit jumped to his feet. “Wait!”

Ambrose glanced over his shoulder at Kit, a smile on his too red lips. “Don’t tell me you miss me already,” he said, voice coy because he knew, didn’t he? He fucking knew the compulsion was still there for Kit and didn’t think of lifting it.

Kit didn’t dignify his teasing with a response and instead walked towards the door, towards Ambrose who stepped back out of his way and leaned against the railing opposite the door.

Kit had two feet out the door before a searing pain brought him to his knees gasping out in a silent scream. Above him he could barely make out Ambrose’s too bright eyes and knowing smile. Then the pain vanished as suddenly as it had begun. Kit threw himself forward onto his hands and knees and sucked in lungfuls of air.

“You fucking… dick,” Kit wheezed.

Ambrose shrugged above him. “I couldn’t help myself, how funny would it have been if for the first time I give you your freedom you can’t leave the house.”

Kit glared up at him, pressing a hand against the door frame to support him as he got to his feet. “That’s not our deal,” Kit hissed.

Ambrose rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Kit. It wasn’t like I was going to leave it on you. I just thought if you forgot maybe I did too.”

“I don’t want this compulsion in my head to obey a deal that you yourself won’t stand by!” Kit spat, before he could think he had his hands curled into Ambrose’s overcoat pressing him against the railing further. “I want a failsafe.”

Ambrose tilted his head, smile gone from his face as he thought it over.

“A fail safe?”

“Yeah,” Kit pressed. “If you break the deal, then the compulsion fades.”

Ambrose didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he pursed his lips and nodded putting his hands up. “Okay. Fair is fair. Kit, if I break our deal then you can too.”

Kit felt the command run through his body only this time he didn’t shiver. Kit stepped back and let Ambrose go.

“Satisfied?”

Kit didn’t reply. Instead he walked back into his apartment and slammed the door in the telepath’s face.

“Dick.”

Kit's mind reeled as the memory hit him harder than an anvil dropping on his head. To be fair that was most of his experiences with Ambrose anyways, but he had to do something! There had to be a way to somehow tiptoe 'round the terms of their agreement.

No, Kit thought mutinously. He couldn’t do anything about it until Ambrose broke the deal first. He could however leave his house and enjoy some fresh air for the first time in— weeks?! Months?! He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember the last time he was free of Ambrose. He needed to put runners on and get out and just go out. Just run.

He could sort everything out after he was finished. Everything else could wait. He had to talk to Superhero, and catch up on all the life that he missed while Ambrose was puppeting him in his head.

He just wanted a few hours that were Ambrose free and just— just Kit’s.

He grabbed his keys after yanking on his runners and for the first time, in a long time, Kit left his apartment. He took in a breath of fresh air, feeling the slight static in the air and the rumbling of power lines below the surface.

He felt good.

He didn’t realise his eyes were their electric blue, but even if you told him he wouldn’t have cared.

Ambrose stood across the way, watching as Kit took off running down the street, sparks kicking off his heels every time they connected with the path. They weren’t all Kit’s blue either, some, a very little amount were the same untamed red that Ambrose had only witnessed once before.

Kit turned the corner out of sight and Ambrose left him to it. He had work to do.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper r @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland

63 notes · View notes

promptspa · 2 years

Text

Random prompt #39

"It's a yes or no question." Supervillain stated bluntly, draped along their throne with their chin propped on their hand. "Yes. I do want to live," Hero sneered, baring their teeth as they pulled at the chains confining their form. "That was an answer with five more words than I wanted." It came off as a warning, but the hero merely yanked at their chains once more with a lot more force than intended. They let out a small yelp as they felt something pop out of it's place, arching at the sudden ache. A pained whimper slipped out of their lips, no matter how much they didn't want it to. A coo sounded from ahead of them and they lifted their head to glare at the horrid villain, keen to stay defiant and not show vulnerability. They snarled, ducking their head to rid the other's pitying look. "That's what happens when you refuse to just listen." Supervillain chirped at them as they stood from their throne, walking to the kneeling hero. They crouched down and grabbed Hero by their chin, forcing their head up. Hero waited for an order, an insult, anything. But no words came - and that was somehow worse. The silence taunted them as they kept their gaze locked with the villain's. And when the quietness became too much and Hero's thoughts had simmered enough, they let out a small sigh and relaxed in Villain's hold, their jaw unclenching and the defiant spark in their eyes cooled. "See? It's much easier to just be good for me, pet."

#villain x hero #hero x villain #dialogue prompts #fanfiction prompts #prompts #page's prompts #prompt list #romance prompts #action prompts #otp prompts #potential whump #whump prompts #manipulative villain #defiant whumpee #hero whumpee #villain whumper #pet hero #saucy prompts

494 notes · View notes

automeris-io-moth · 1 year

Note

Can we get more of the Amnesiac Hero pretty please?

The kindness of a stranger pt. 3

It had not rained once in the evergreen hills Hero had inhabited for at least four weeks, rain was a rare thing at that time of the year in the area, Villain had explained, the humidity was well maintained by the dense canopy over their heads, and the sunrays barely hit the ground.

But as they drove further and further, the grey clouds above them filled the sky, raindrops falling nonstop over the windshield, harsh wind hitting the crystals. It had lulled Hero to sleep long ago, head resting against the window of the copilot seat.

Usually, the valleys were left alone, tourists found little to do, and the climbs were too treacherous for hikers to explore. They had lived at peace for the short while they could manage, before the heroes discovered where they were. Yet, that night, police lights and sirens approached rapidly, the roads were filled to the brim with trucks, ambulances and black, unlicensed plates.

Villain gripped the wheel, palms turning white from the force. Their haven was to be destroyed before the sun rose, they knew it, the unconscious body of the other Hero would certainly guide them to their cottage.

All that was important was always tightly kept inside a suitcase, ready to grab and go. The knick knacks Villain had bought to make the cottage homey to Hero were replaceable, and still, something still angered them. It had not been the place but the peace what the heroes had disturbed.

No matter, they thought turning to look at Hero, asleep, illuminated by the light of the streetlamp, Villain remembered why they were doing all that for. A getaway to the beach never hurt anyone.

Villain fixed the blanket covering them.

Four hours later, at the side of a road, Hero woke up with the sound of the car doors locking.

The sky was clear again, the coldness of the morning seeping through the windows. Hero buried themselves more into the blanket cocoon made during the night, looking outside to the gas station, trying to get a look of Villain inside, to call their attention to ask them for a bottle of water to calm the ache on their throat.

Hero couldn’t find them.

Perhaps they were in the bathroom, Hero thought, reaching to the door handle.

The door was closed.

The keys were nowhere to be found.

Hero tried again, their door, the pilot’s, the windows wouldn’t go down either.

So they waited.

Only a couple minutes after, Villain left the store, white plastic bags hanging from their right hands, left lifted to fix their face mask.

Hero did not know how their own expression looked, if the trace of panic birthed in their stomach was visible through their eyes, but at sight of them Villain rushed to the car, opening the car quickly, as locking it closed just as fast.

“What’s wrong, love?” Villain asked, reaching for them.

Hero flinched back. The ground trembled for a quarter of a second.

They did not know why.

Villain was frozen in their seat.

“I’m sorry I’m so…, I don’t know what happened,” Hero rushed to excuse themselves “I guess I’m still startled from earlier.”

And after a moment, Villain smiled.

Those known, warm smiles they used to comfort Hero on those first nights, when everything was blurry, and they were scared. Hero swallowed their guilt.

“I understand, it’s okay, I’m not mad,” they answered, trying to reach again, successfully this time, they held Hero’s hands together in one of them, allowing them to grab them tight, as tight as Hero needed.

Hero reciprocated the gesture, smiling down after a second of silence.

“I brought you water, coffee and some snacks, we still have a couple hours to go.”

They grabbed the bag offered, placing it down under the seat.

“Thank you Villain,” answered Hero, turning to face them, gripping their hand tighter and meeting their gaze “Thank you, really, for all you’ve done for me this time.”

Villain’s smile changed for a moment to something less warm.

Hero ignored it.

“It’s truly my pleasure, Hero.” They answered, “I will always take care of you.”

Masterlist

(Which I think it's broken, the links to each sections are not working properly for me, but I'll check)

Yes you can!

(I'm really trying to work on the other requests :c)

#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero/villain #villain/hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #villains and hero #hero #amnesiac hero #villain #manipulative villain #creative writing #writebrl #heroes and villains community

54 notes · View notes

caker-baker · 2 years

Text

Kindhearted Fool

From one of their cohorts, from another villain, they might have expected this.

But from someone as good as the hero, someone as kind and gentle as them, it couldn’t be.

No, that’s not right either, is it? Did someone good and kind and gentle break deals so callously?

“I am–” The hero stuttered, mouth dry. “I am sorry.”

For a moment, the villain thought what to say, thought even to plead for a different outcome.

“How long until your friends come and get me?” They asked, settling on the most ambiguous question, all the while tracing their hand on the material which muted any ability to teleport away.

Such a clever trick of the hero’s, wasn’t it? Such a good guess.

The villain had been so sure to never be seen when teleporting, and they had half a mind to wonder how the hero knew. But the how wasn’t important, not then and there.

The walls shook when the villain slammed their fists against them, making even the hero jump back.

“You of all people,” They muttered. “you of all heroes. Do you play the part of puppet, now? I know–I have to believe–this isn’t you. You wouldn’t set up–” They waved their hand around the cell. “all this. You couldn’t.”

“Don’t call me an idiot.” The hero spat back. “I’m not, I’m not stupid.”

“Oh, I see. This is the proof? Tired of being looked down on by the rest of them? You can catch the big bad on your own, all by yourself, and all you had to do was a little manipulation.”

“I didn’t manipulate you!” The hero argued. “I didn’t mean to! I was only supposed to–” They stopped themselves upon realizing that they were playing into the villain’s hands, branding themselves a puppet as the villain called them.

“What were you supposed to do then, hm? I’m listening.”

The hero stayed silent.

“I chose you, you know. I didn’t want any of the others to help me, I wanted you, only you.” The villain’s sincere tone changed to that of an incredulous one. “You were different from them, I thought. Power and kindness don’t go hand in hand these days, do they? And the kindness made you weak, and you didn’t want to be weak anymore.”

The hero turned away from them.

“But you don’t have the same strength they do, not for lack of power, or for lack of trying, but for lack of cruelty. You can’t be cruel. If you were such a thing, you wouldn’t be crying.”

“Stop trying to manipulate me!” The hero snapped. “I have what they have! I’m good enough to be a hero.”

An out presented itself to the villain in shining light.

“You are good, too good. It’s no fault of your own that kindness is mistaken for idiocy, for weakness. It’s why I wanted you, only you.”

“So you could swindle some weak idiot for a getaway after using them?” The hero turned back around, tear stains streaking their face. “You can’t trick me. Be–besides, I should let you be caught, you’re a bad person.”

At that, the villain smiled softly. They weren’t a good person, were they?

“But then you’d be breaking our deal, Hero. Let me out. I’ll take us both to a place where you are seen past your goodness. I can do that for you, just as you can press that button, and let me go free.”

When the hero said nothing, the villain continued.

“Do you even know what it is to be wanted? I wanted you, and you helped me, and I don’t deserve it, Hero, I don’t deserve you, but I want you. So please, let me out. We’ll go somewhere that’s kinder to you, kinder to me.”

“You’d be doing what, exactly? Rehabilitating yourself?”

“Something like that.” They pressed their hands against the muting material. “But I can’t start without you.”

For the briefest moment, the villain worried they had lost the hero, who only stared at them with reddened eyes.

And then, the hero slammed their first against the button on the wall, mimicking the villain’s own childish actions earlier.

When the cell wall came down, the villain held out a hand to the hero.

“You’ll take me somewhere that I won’t be called weak?”

“Wherever that may be.”

The hero took the villain’s hand.

And what a kindhearted fool they were for it.

If you like this post, consider buying me a Kofi?

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #snippet #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villainess #writing #heroes #kind heart #sweet hero #manipulative villain #oh no hero run run away no don’t trust them #hahahahahahaha #suffer #sorry guys #is there a happy ending? take to the polls now to decide!#no but fr it’s up to y’all if you think it’s a happy ending #even if that last statement was very unhappily themed #also hey!! special thanks to the person who encouraged me to do Twisted Tales! you know who you are and I love you.#also sorry that this one is so short #currently waiting on a reply from someone who gave me a prompt to see if they’re cool with me publishing it #until then enjoy the snippets #was about to type out a weird thought but then remembered to be Neurotypical(TM)#dw about that #anyways #love y’all #be safe

167 notes · View notes

hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 years

Note

Hiii, i'd like to request a villain who tricks hero into falling in love with them (maybe the plan was that but villain also fell in love with hero in the process, that's for you to decide)

It's okay if you don't write it tho, have a great great day/night. I love your writing <333

Hi Anon! Thank you for the kind words! Thanks for requesting this, I’ll give it my best shot! (Sorry that this took a little while to write, I've been slowly working through my inbox trying to catch up with requests and continuations)

Hero nestled closer into Villain as Villain pocketed the empty love potion bottle. They had slipped Hero’s daily dose into their tea, which Hero had drank eagerly. Now Villain and Hero were cuddled up together on the couch, watching some cheesy rom-com that Hero had picked. It had been two months since Villain had slipped Hero the first love potion, and Hero had been smitten ever since. Initially, Villain just wanted to get Hero out of the way for a couple of weeks, but now…

“I love you, Villain,” Hero sighed happily, resting their head on Villain’s shoulder.

“I love you, too, Hero,” Villain replied truthfully.

Villain didn’t want to let these moments with Hero go. In trying to make Hero fall for them, Villain had fallen in love with Hero. Their freckles, their laugh, their mannerisms; Villain loved every bit of Hero. They were too afraid to let Hero decide for themselves whether they loved Villain.

“What’s wrong?” Hero asked, brows furrowed.

Villain snapped out of their trance and looked down fondly at Hero.

“Nothing,” Villain said, “just lost in thought.”

“What about?” Hero asked.

Villain kissed Hero on the forehead and ran a hand through their hair.

“About you of course,” Villain said, “how much I love you.”

It wasn’t a total lie; Villain was thinking about how much they loved Hero, they just weren’t willing to share how they got there.

After an hour or so, the movie was over, and Hero and Villain both got up from the couch to get ready for bed. There was just one tiny problem…

“Villain,” Hero said weakly, “I don’t feel so good…”

Villain looked over to see that Hero was swaying on their feet. Villain caught them just before they could fall. Villain looked into Hero’s eyes, which were glazed over and half-lidded. Villain looked over at Hero’s cup of tea, which was only half-empty. Villain cursed under their breath.

“You just need a drink,” Villain said, picking up the cup, “here.”

Hero’s eyes fluttered shut. Villain stood there holding Hero for a few moments before Hero’s eyes snapped open.

“Villain?” Hero asked.

“Hey,” Villain said softly, “you okay? Here, I got your-”

“Where am I?” Hero asked.

So it was true. Hero hadn’t drank enough of their daily dose of love potion.

“Um,” Villain stammered, “you’re at our- my- place. What do you remember?”

Hero pulled away from Villain’s grasp. They put a hand to their head and tried to concentrate.

“We were on a rooftop,” Hero said, “you gave me something to drink… I don’t remember anything else. Villain, what’s going on?”

Think fast, Villain, Villain thought.

“You’ve been… sick… for a couple months,” Villain said slowly, “I’ve been taking care of you.”

That wasn’t necessarily a lie, either. Hero had been sick- lovesick, and Villain had been taking care of them.

“Months?” Hero’s eyes widened and their breathing quickened, “Why can’t I remember anything? What was I sick with? Villain, why can’t I remember-”

“Shh,” Villain soothed, “calm down, it’s okay. I’m gonna help you remember. Here, why don’t you sit down?”

Hero shakily sat down on the couch next to Villain. Villain then spun a twisted story about how Hero had gotten very sick and delirious with fever, and how Villain had stepped in to take care of them. They left out the parts about spiking their drinks and meals with love potions, and they emphasized that Hero would likely not remember the last two months.

“So… I won’t remember anything?” Hero asked.

“I’m sorry, Hero,” Villain said, “it was a powerful illness; I’m surprised you’re recovering at all.”

Hero leaned their head on Villain’s shoulder, causing a blush to creep into Villain’s cheeks.

“Thank you, Villain,” Hero said, “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Villain pushed the guilt threatening to tear them open back down into the depths of their mind. They ran a hand through Hero’s hair; maybe not all was lost after all.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #hero x villain community #as requested #writing #writeblr #creative writing #snippet #drugging #noncon drugging #love potion #mind control #sort of #manipulative villain #possessive villain #memory loss #whump #hurt/comfort

162 notes · View notes

lgbtlunaverse · 8 months

Text

Obsessed with characters who portray themselves as worse than they are. Who are lying to everyone including themselves about it. People generally assume if someone's lying about themselves they're trying to look better but sometimes they're trying to look worse. They attribute agency to where they had none, add intend to accidents, try to convince everyone that this is something they did instead of something that happened to them.

#this is about tenko bnha #but it is also about dahlia ace attorney #watch the nezumiVA videos on ace attorney trilogy they're great #anyway dahlia saying she (at like. 6 years old) apparently convinced her father to abandon her sister. hmmm #also everyone including herself thinking of her as the manipulator in control with terry when she was 14 dating a 20 y/o #anyway these characters both did do terrible things but feel the need to pile on more and remove nuance from where it exists #to convince themselves that this is what they really want. that they chose this.#it's about the loss of control it's about being a victim feeling worse than being a villain #at least if you were the bad guy you had autonomy #shimura tenko #shigaraki tomura #dahlia hawthorne

50K notes · View notes

nelkcats · 9 months

Text

Garage Sale

Well, when the Fentons decided to have a garage sale Danny didn't expect many to be interested. His parents were looking for a way to get money quickly to build more stuff, and he jokingly suggested they could sell some inventions, they took it seriously (Jazz made sure to remove all the lethal inventions, she tried with the ones that might be risky but then they wouldn't sell anything).

Danny knew his parents were strange yes, but he wasn't sure that justified millionaires in his backyard. Millionaires, he'd like to clarify, had never set foot in Amity Park before. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Bruce Wayne and his sons checking out the appliances. None of them seemed to be interested in the "ghosts" but they hadn't backed down from taking some things either.

So yes, Danny was suspicious. Of course he had made sure the inventions in the sale were safe (although unlike Jazz, he simply decided to make them safe, a few modifications here and there), but the fact that they looked genuinely interested made him uneasy.

Were the Waynes interested in hunting ghosts?

He decided to try something, he crossed eyes with one of them and let his green eyes show before looking away, the boy looked alarmed. He approached him and asked, but Danny feigned ignorance, commenting that all the inventions were green and maybe he had been confused by the reflection (to be fair, most of his parents' inventions were green because of the ecto).

For his part, Bruce had received an alert from Justice League Dark, it seemed they had detected a strange energy, similar to magic, so the bats set out to investigate. They didn't expect to find a garage sale in a house in the middle of nowhere (Amity Park wasn't even marked on the fucking map). Nor did they expect advanced technology or mad scientists.

Bruce decided to pretend he had stumbled into town as "Brucie Wayne" and buy a few things. He shuddered to see that many inventions worked with Lazarus water. Jason, who had strangely agreed to come along, was also upset about the son of the scientists.

Bruce questioned whether he had found a family of villains in the making.

#dpxdc #The Fentons needed money #so they did a garage sale #JLD detected the ecto because it was out of the protected lab #and all the inventions together caused energy to be detected #The Batfamily investigated #Amity is a quiet town #if you're not actively looking for it then it won't show up #That's why no one believes it exists #The Amity Parkers could be descendants of the elves and nobody would know it #dp x dc #dc x dp #Danny gave Jason a cardiac arrest #Jason knows the color of pit madness everywhere and he thinks Danny has it #Bruce plans to take the weapons to study them #The Fentons are just happy that their sale was a success #They have no idea that the dark knight considers them to be future villains #Danny would be offended if he found out #The Batfamily believes that the Fentons found a way to manipulate the lazarus water and that is a risk #They hope Ra doesn't find out #They are right but wrong at the same time #The Fentons work with pure ectoplasm #not junk ectoplasm.

2K notes · View notes

rahabq · 3 months

Text

#villain beauty #girlblog #girlblogger #girlblogging #megan fox #femcel #female manipulator #hyper feminine #lana del rey #manic pixie dream girl #girly #gaslight gatekeep girlboss

486 notes · View notes

ofswordsandpens · 4 months

Text

im rereading the lightning thief and I forgot that the other campers were so freaked by Percy after he had been claimed + decimated those Ares kids that they wouldn't train with him anymore and he had to have solo sword lessons with Luke

#oh the fear the drama the tragedy of being a child of the big three #(I love it)#also not to think from the point of view of a villian #but Luke bestie baby this was prime manipulation time to try and convince percy to willingly side with kronos #and sew more seeds of doubt in percy's head #(I mean Luke clearly wanted him dead so that he would be the specialist boy)#but in a different world I guess where Luke was a little smarter as a villain #its interesting to think about

448 notes · View notes

dykealloy · 6 months

Text

i keep going back to this moment. obviously there's the palpable devotion from zoro towards luffy which is all very insane, elicits the urge to chew through drywall etc etc. but I can't help but get caught on the way this is phrased. suggesting maybe zoro isn't the only one mihawk is talking about here. as in, I'm getting opla shuggy rant energy, i.e.

which is about as blatant and transparent as it gets in terms of the older wiser figure with a connection to shanks speaking about his own experiences (under the weak veil of this being about Luffy). but back to mihawk talking about zoro whilst also talking about himself. I'm having to extrapolate a fair bit here given my limited knowledge of his history, but here's what we do know - mihawk never belonged to a crew, was a "rival" of shanks before he "lost interest" in killing him at some point after he lost his arm ("it's always for the sake of another" - given how powerful shanks still is at this point - one of the four emperors - i'd like to think there's something more to this).

when zoro falls to his blade outside the Baratie and he tells luffy "that's a more treacherous path than even mine" after hearing his main goal is to become king of the pirates, do you think perhaps there's a chance he's projecting some old buried anxiety/fear from his youth about the thought of facing shanks, standing by his side and falling. It's giving "I am not worthy until I prove I'm the best", which if true, was followed after many years by "Now I am the best and it's hollow and empty and I regret all those days I could have had with you".

luffy gave zoro direction - a greater purpose and a family. luffy enables his aspirations, but he also provides zoro the freedom to have something more than just this obsessive structure where the only thing that matters is becoming top dog - something beyond years and years of endless relentless training fueled in part by his loyalty to kuina but also the grief of her loss. without luffy, zoro could very likely have followed mihawk's path, something @joyish-little-boy pointed out in one of @assiraphales' posts.

despite being recognised by the world at large as the greatest swordsman alive, and supposedly having achieved all there is for him to strive for, mihawk has never struck me as a man awfully satisfied with where he is.

#mihawk looking zoro straight in the eyes: i know how to manipulate you. fellow fag.#buggy getting distracting midway through his villain monologue and wistfully staring into space: i hate him. i miss him.#mishanks #shuggy #zolu #anyway. do you think zoro telling mihawk that 'the only thing luffy's afraid of is being alone' resonated with mihawk.#do you think it fucked him up?#i think maybe so.#one piece #op #opla #CJ's op watch-through #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #buggy the clown #zoro #op meta #op analysis

449 notes · View notes

greenglowinspooks · 6 months

Text

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

—

Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That your new look?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #vengeful danny #villain danny #btw Derringer is named after a type of gun #dw he isn’t the focus forever #I just felt like Danny could use like. a single person who isn’t trying to manipulate him #also I think he would get along very well with the goons :)#aside from. yknow. the whole target thing HDJDNDND #also there IS a lore related reason that his vocal chords can’t recover but the rest of his body can #you just gotta wait to see what it is >:3 #anyways. Arkham time next chapter #Awwawaw

423 notes · View notes

jade-len · 4 months

Text

so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

#greatest prank ive ever donee i think #manipulation 100 fr #absolute tomfoolery #am i a bad friend for this? perhaps. is it hilarious? definitely.#this is truly the most moment of all time #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #luo bingmei #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

307 notes · View notes

promptspa · 2 years

Text

Random prompt #82

"What do you want this time, Supervillain?" Deity sighs, swirling the wine around in their glass with gentle movements of their wrist. They were draped elegantly over the white marble of their throne, robes flowing around them.

"Am I not able to worship you anymore, my dearest god(dess)?" The master criminal replies, their serpentine gaze trailing over the ethereal being in front of them. They suppressed a shiver at the sudden burst of power from Deity's direction as they spoke, reminding them of just how easily they could crush Supervillain like a bug under their heel.

"The last time you made that excuse to see me," The pause between Deity's words made them ring even more threatening in Supervillain's ears as they stood, taking their time to reach the bottom of the marble steps. "You had stolen from me."

"I care not for the gold and the amulet and the priceless magic relics that you thought you had smuggled flawlessly," The deity continued, their power increasing tenfold as they took Supervillain by the chin, pulling them forward. "But my heart? That is something no mortal should have."

"Then perhaps you should make me immortal."

Deity blinked at Supervillain's words, slowly scanning the scalding heat within their eyes. The flame they had wished to distinguish so many years ago remained, burning bright with challenge more than ever.

They scoffed, dropping Supervillain's chin from their hand and instead turning with a flourish to stalk up back to their pedastal.

"Convince me. Tell me why I should give such a prideful, dangerous and selfish being the chance to die over and over again without consequence."

"Because you love me, that's why. You would hate to see the moment I finally meet my end... Wouldn't you?"

143 notes · View notes

automeris-io-moth · 1 year

Note

not sure if this is too specific, but can I request hero/villain where villain is a sadistic ruler and hero is the leader of a rebel faction ???

A mouse running in circles.

The door opened with a creak, light filtering through the small slit, ephemeral, for it was quickly closed right after, a precaution everyone had been smart enough to procure, even when Hero’s leg was tightly bound to one of the walls.

“Oh my” exclaimed Villain, laughing at the sight of the beat-up Hero kneeling down on the floor, the reach of the chain not enough for them to stand up, forcing them to look up at villain, almost like a subject “I didn’t believe it when the they told me you were captured, I was certain they were only rumours, but my people know better than to lie to me.”

Dangerous.

Villain was dangerous.

Hero wished they had notice it sooner, notice the glint in their eyes when they did harm, but nostalgia, yearning, was a hard thing to overcome, and in everything, in anything they did and said the habituality of Villain’s words made Hero cross it off as something harmless, as an innocent wish of power, conquering was, after all, the purpose of their soldiers, and one day both would be at the fronts.

Being at the side of someone so ambitious was a privilege after all, Hero convinced themselves, they were to be victorious when old enough to travel with the army, together.

Until they wouldn’t. When, still in their youth, Hero became an heir.

The heir of a burden.

And a month after the death of their uncle, with their chin raised high, as they were taught, and their hands closed tight enough not to let them tremble at their sides, Hero was crowned.

Running away was, then, tempting. Disguising themselves as a soldier, as a commoner.

The acts of a coward.

So they bore the burden when it was laid upon them, they said farewell to their friend, to their dream, and watched them leave in a boat they had to bless before departing.

And Hero ran when their friend could not judge them from afar.

A letter was left in the throne room, neatly rolled up parchment closed with the official seal of the kingdom, pressed over black wax.

Their friend, Villain, would make a fine ruler, they wrote, of royal blood still, even if from one of the lower houses, they were skipping a few hierarchy levels, but the word of the monarch was law, and so it was to happen.

Hero had been so naive.

Villain sat themselves comfortably on a chair in front of Hero, looking down at them.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” then they said, grabbing Hero by the chin and lifting it up, harsher than needed “I haven’t seen you in years, a shame you hide your pretty face behind those ugly rags you wear.”

Hero twisted their head to take it away from the other’s grasp.

“You betrayed me,” Hero spat. “I trusted you with my people and look at what you've done.”

Villain raised a brow, smirking as they laid back on the chair “The kingdom flourishes, technology and medicine never advanced faster, we’re the main producers of gems on the continent.”

“And at whose expense?!” they bit back “My people starve!”

“Our people,” Villain corrected, “will learn the rewards of hard work or they will be left behind.”

“You’re not a monarch, you’re a rat, a power-hungry rat.”

“And you’re a coward,” they stated, voice still calm through the provocations “a mouse, if you will, running away from what you owe these people and then blaming me for giving this nation what it needed.”

Blame was a burden Hero knew very well.

“But you can’t escape your destiny, you’re still a ruler,” Villain declared, sure of their words, in control of the room, and very aware of both facts “the ruler of a bunch of underdogs who will accomplish nothing.”

Villain stood.

“And for that you’re still a danger to the kingdom. You shall stay here, until we get the rest of the rebels, and after,” they added, grabbing their cheeks in one hand, twisting their face to face them, “you will return to your legitimate position, with me at the head, of course, that’ll settle whatever resistance is still left after.”

Masterlist

I got to this request right after doing the Solder, Poet, King quiz and getting king when I wanted poet (like almost every single person I've seen doing it, honestly), so it's kinda (very much) inspired this on that concept, sorry.

I still hope you like it!

83 notes · View notes