#filled prompt
When they finally uncovered their nemesis’ identity, they expected to feel elated. Smug, at least. Instead they just felt- “Shit.”
The hero glared up at them, a raw red stripe outlining their eyes. Tears glittered even as they gritted their teeth. “What,” they snapped, “prettier than you expected? Younger? Less famous? I’m a nobody, I told you. There’s no way for you to find out who I am.”
But the hero wasn’t a nobody, not to them. They were a friend, a best friend, and…a crush. Shit. Shit.
Ah this is one of favorites! I think this was my first finished multipart story - one of my favorite prompts I’ve filled!
Prompt 342
“All this exposed skin,” the villain purred as she slowly looked up and down the hero’s new suit, “Tells me you’re dying for a hands-on approach.”
Very fun! Thanks for a great prompt,@nuttynutcycle!
CW: rated S for Spicy
“Oh yeah?” The hero cocked a hip boldly, jutted her chin. “Come and see how that works for you, babe.”
The villain cackled but no, she did not take the bait. She was properly prepared, all gloved and covered up against those bare arms and legs and now that midriff too, shimmering with magic and pain, but she was no fool to let pride drag her into a trap. To let the hero bait her into a physical fight instead a psychological one. And god, it was almost embarrassing how vulnerable the hero was to a little flirting.
“I particularly love the short shorts. Planning to electrocute me between those gorgeous thighs?”
“Enough chatter,” the hero snapped, even as her face darkened to a gorgeous shade of copper. She raised her fists and set into a ready position that was no joke. “Surrender, or we can do this the hard way.”
“Ooh, I’d love to do you the hard way,” the villain fired back, hand on her holster. “Why don’t you be a good girl and turn that light show off?”
“I wish,” the hero muttered, flicking sparks off her shoulder.
The villain stopped dead. “What?”
“I said, you wish,” the hero cried, something new in her eyes. Horror. Panic.
“Wait,” the villain said, flipping rapidly back through everything she knew about the hero, every encounter they’d had. “You… can turn that power off, right? You’re not permanently stuck in electrocution mode?”
The hero let out a howl of rage and flung herself at the villain. The villain drew her blaster but hero was already on her, simply batted it away. A few swift strikes and the villain found herself bleeding from a painfully throbbing nose, pinned flat on her back.
Somehow none of that seemed to matter as the hero straddled her, eyes scrunched and breath heaving in her chest far beyond the simple exertion required. The cuffs were in her hand and she did not move to put them on her prisoner as the villain’s gloved hand pressed across the bare skin of the hero’s muscled abs.
“Oh, you poor thing,” whispered the villain. The wiring in the gloves sizzled furiously but held. “Has no one been touching you the way you deserve to be touched?”
The hero shuddered so hard she almost fell off.
“It’s okay, let me have you,” the villain said, daring to pull her other hand free to place it on the other side of the hero’s waist. The buzzing intensified exponentially but it was nothing the villain couldn’t handle.
A sharp yank and a sudden twist, and they rolled. Suddenly it was villain rolled atop hero, who arched beneath them as they dug their grip in tight on that shimmering skin.
“The costume’s fine. Honestly.” the villain whispered, running their hands up the sides of hero’s body, barely breathing as sparks flamed away. “But if you don’t like it, tell them to stuff this costume where it came from. Nobody gets to make you suffer.”
“Except you?” the hero moaned, high and breathy, and the villain thought between that sound and the frantic vibration of her suit she might just combust on the spot.
“Oh darling,” the villain gasped, letting their hand roam up the hero’s arm towards those cuffs. “Suffering is the last thing I’m going to make you feel.”
“Wait!” The villain froze as the hero’s eyes snapped open, blinking away the haze. “Wait, [Villain]. You… you’re right. I can’t turn it off.” And then the hero’s face split into her winning grin. “But I can turn it up.”
The sparks screamed as they multiplied across the hero’s glimmering skin. The villain screamed too as the protective wiring in her suit failed, as her body seized in hero’s current, as everything flashed to static…
And she woke up tucked neatly into a hotel bed a note on the nightstand: Called the Agency. I’m getting my old costume back. Thanks.
“Good girl,” murmured the villain dizzily and heaved herself up to make her escape before the cavalry could arrive. And if she smiled as she limped home, well. That was no one’s business but hers. And maybe hero’s.
some-messed-up-writing-for-you:
Short Prompt #488
“Ah, Scientist! How’s experiment number 387 doing?” - the villain asked, strolling into the lab. Said scientist jumped in surprise before turning to their boss.
“V-Villain, sir! Uh- Everything’s going smoothly so far.” - Scientist replied, checking something on their tablet as Villain walked over to the giant tube in the middle of the room.
The criminal ran their hand down the glass, admiring the creature growing inside it. “Marvelous~. Once this beauty is finished, we’ll be unstoppable.”
This got very silly. Thanks for a great prompt @some-messed-up-writing-for-you!
There was a long pause as the villain basked. It was a good bask. They were having fun. Until the scientist cleared their throat nervously.
The villain sighed. “What?”
Their scientist wrung their hands nervously. “Well, uh. I know it might be above my pay grade but uh…”
“Spit it out, Scientist!” Villain pulled a potato chip from their jacket pocket and bit in. “I pay you to think, let’s hear those thoughts.”
“You, uh,” the scientist stammered, staring at the villain’s snack, “technically don’t pay me. But that’s not the point! You do keep saying things like we’ll be unstoppable and all shall bow before me, and I would remiss not to point out we have no idea what kind of traits or personality we’re going to get when our chimera decants.”
“An excellent point!” The villain crammed in another potato chip, chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Two questions then. One, what do you know about animal handling? And two, what do you mean I’m not paying you?”
“You, uh, technically kidnapped me?” the scientist said with a nervous laugh, hugging their tablet to their chest. “But I have been doing some reading in zoology and aquarium journals-”
“Great initiative. Now shut up,” interrupted the villain, looking less amused, more confused. “I kidnapped you?”
“Well, yeah.” The scientist looked a little hurt. “The International Biochem conference in Berlin? I was presenting a paper, it wasn’t going well. But then you - you suddenly stormed the stage yelling that I was a genius and my talents were wasted on them and then you, um,” the scientist blushed bright red, “you sorta tossed me over your shoulder and you had these kinda rocket powered skates-”
“Mm.” The villain nodded thoughtfully. “The Jet Set Rockets, yes. This is ringing a bell. Go on.”
“And then you brought me here. But no big deal!” the scientist hurriedly said. “Everyone just sort of forgot I was a prisoner after a few days. I was able to go home, pack my stuff, let the landlord know I was breaking my lease because I’d been kidnapped. But to get back to Beastica -”
"Beastica?”
“Oh, sorry! I mean…” The scientist ducked their head, running a hand gently along the glass. “That’s just what I’ve been calling her in my head. I didn’t mean to presume.”
“Beastica,” the villain hummed. They placed their hand next to the scientist’s on the glass. “I dig it.”
“Oh wow,” the scientist breathed. “But, uh, I am short on cash and some of that zoology literature is behind paywall, so can I get that expensed? Subscription to the Annual Review of Animal Biosciences and the Journal of Experimental Biology should do it.”
“Sure, sure! Tell Accounting Deirdre I authorized it and she’ll order it for you. Now.” The villain grabbed the tablet out of the scientist’s hand and flung it away.
“Hey!” the scientist yelped - and then shut up as the villain advanced on them, eyes glinting with intent.
“We need to sort this out,” the criminal purred, backing the scientist across the lab. “You can’t be ‘kinda’ kidnapped. That effects things, like your PTO accrual and whether you get invited to the holiday party.“ The scientist gasped as they hit the wall. The villain was there in a flash, hands bracketing them against the cement. "So what’ll it be, genius?” they grinned, running a finger down the scientist’s lab coat lapel. “Are you kidnapped, or do you maybe kinda wanna be here?”
“Oh, um…” the scientist stammered, eyes perfectly round aa they watched villain’s hand trace across their chest. “I mean, maybe… I don’t know! Can’t we do something in the middle?”
“Independent contractor! Got it!” The villain abruptly stepped back and started tapping things into their phone. “Go tell HR Deirdre you need a W9. That’s a good choice,” the villain went on, with a sly glass up through their lashes. “I have a strict no fraternization policy with my employees, but I don’t see any reason I can’t throw a contractor over my shoulder every now and again. If they ask nicely.”
“Okay,” whispered the scientist again, melting slowly into a puddle.
The criminal gave them a wink and handed them a pretzel stick from their shirt pocket. “I wanna see that behavioral plan by Thursday! Keep up the good work and you shall be rewarded in my day of victory!”
“Will do, sir,” the scientist whispered and hurried back to building their villain the world’s most beautiful marauding monster.
some-messed-up-writing-for-you:
Short Prompt #556
“Well, aren’t you pretty~?” - the villain purred, crowding the terrified civilian into a corner, cutting off any means of escape.
Other Villain, who stood beside them, chuckled lightly in agreement as they hungrily eyed Civilian’s shaking body. “The universe must love us for sending such a gorgeous gift into our territory~.”
A terrific prompt! Thanks@some-messed-up-writing-for-you!
“Wait, wait! Please!” The civilian wedged themselves back against the dirty brick, hands out and up. “I… I came here to find you. To ask for your help!”
The villains exchanged a look and burst out laughing. The first one, taller by a fraction of an inch, snaked a hand out to pin one of the civilian’s wrists up against the alley wall. “Sure, cutie,” they said with a sneer. “What can little old us do for [Hero’s] latest squeeze toy?”
“Oh, good, you do know me,” the civilian breathed, eyes glued to the villain’s hand around their wrist. “This’ll sound slightly less - ahaha! - slightly less crazy. Yeah, um. I….”
“Spit it out, doll,” cooed the second villain, faster by a second or so as they caught the civilian’s chin, turned their face to the yellow street light. “My partner asked you a question.”
The civilian closed their eyes. “I need you to kidnap me for real,” they blurted out in a panicked rush.
The villains exchanged another look. This time they did not laugh. “Darling,” the second villain said with decidedly less purr. “Not sure you noticed but we were very much already in the process of kidnapping you.”
“Well you’re going to have to do a lot better than… than stupid flirting,” the civilian snapped, even as their breath came quick and unsteady. “I thought you two were supposed to be good. Or bad. Or whatever!”
“What is happening?” said the first villain very calmly.
“I believe we are still waiting for the looker here to get to the point,” the second villain said. “[Hero] sure doesn’t pick them for their brains.”
“Hero’s planning to have me murdered!” the civilian cried. “And he’s going to pin it on the two of you!”
There was silence in the alley. Somewhere nearby a cat yowled, a car engine roared. The villains did not exchange a look. Their eyes stayed locked on civilian.
“And why should we believe that?” said the first villain, tightening their grip.
The civilian winced. “You know what happened to [Hero’s] last partner.”
“Killed by [Supervillain],” the second villain said through their teeth. “And then [Hero] killed Supervillain on camera. And walked.”
“Well, congrats!” the civilian said with a hysterical wheeze. “Looks like you two are his next big threat.”
“Is [Hero] aware that you know this?” the first villain said sharply.
The civilian tried to pull loose. Both villains hung on. They sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Yes.”
One final time, the villains shared a look. And then the second let go, leaving the first to pull civilian from their corner out to the open. “I think you’re coming with us, gorgeous.”
The civilian gave them a queasy smile. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”
The minister pointed his finger at the queen. “The poison in your wine could only have come from her, your majesty! The queen is trying to kill you!” “No,” said the king. “If my wife wished to kill me she would look me in the eye and push a dagger into my chest.”
Prompt courtesy of@writing-prompt-s, as foundhere
“Stop joking around when you’re dying!” I snarled at my idiot husband, now turning a delicate purple. The minister was backing away, so I leapt the table, ripping my dagger loose straight through the hole in my skirts.
He shrieked and tried to run, but courtly life had not been kind to his dexterity or his strength. It was child’s play to take him to the ground, my blade to his throat. “What did you give him? Where is the antidote?”
The minister’s eyes were wide and he was blubbering. It was an embarrassing display from a senior courtier - you’d think the man had never been in a knife fight before. “I don’t - Madame, I - what are you implying?”
“You see, it wasn’t me so that means it must have been you,” I said sweetly to the minister. “Talk or I flay you alive from the balls up.”
It was too theatrical a threat. I could see the pompous mask settle again. “Now see here-” he started.
I stabbed him. He screamed.
“Darling please,” wheezed my moron husband, who should have been sitting down and conserving his breath. “We need… answer…”
“Working on it,” I sang back, grinding my dagger against the minister’s shoulder joint. He screamed again and a spurt of blood landed on my bodice. One of the summoned guards who’d been hovering turned away, his face green. Honestly, I was going to have to fire everyone next week. “I realize these aren’t your balls. This is the warning stab to make my point that I am quite serious.” I pulled my stiletto from my hair, considered the thin blade critically. “Not the best weapon for the job, but I’ll make do. Might have to stab your balls a bit instead of flaying.”
I reached down for his pants.
“Wait!” the minister screamed. “It’s golden rest vine. Golden rest vine!”
There were gasps through the court. At least a couple were clearly fake and I cursed my inability to look in all directions at once.
“Never heard of it.” I slit the fabric open. “I hope for your balls’ sake there’s an antidote.”
“I know! I know that one!” We all turned to look at the little court doctor, hitherto best noted for their ability to fall asleep on two glasses of wine. They blushed but kept their hand up like they were in school. “Standard milkweed powder and brandy.”
“Then go get it,” I hissed and the only member of the court staff who was still going to have their job next week bobbled off at full speed. I turned back to the minister cowering at my feet. “You’re a coward and a traitor,” I declared. And incompetent, I added but only mentally as I couldn’t very well critique an enemy assassin for that quality. “Guards, take him away to stand trial at the king’s pleasure.”
Now that I’d done all their job for them, the guards rushed in a great clank of armor to drag the stupid man away. That handled, I turned back to the stupid man I’d married.
The doctor was already back, trying to feed my husband a cup with their hands shaking worse than his. “Great… great work, my love,” he wheezed.
“No. Beloved. Rest,” I said and grabbed him by the nose. His jaw flapped open and the doctor poured the draught down his gullet. I crushed his head to my breast in a tender embrace before he could spit it out.
“How dare you try to die on me?” I hissed in his ear. “I told you your death is mine when I’m done with you!”
My husband wriggled his head free to look up at me, his color already returning. “Yes, dear,” he whispered back with his stupid, inane smile entirely inappropriate to a man nearly killed by a greedy minister and incompetent staff. He touched my face gently. His fingers came away wet. “Don’t cry, love. I’ll be fine.”
“I am not crying!” I protested, but my husband forestalled further argument on the topic by turning his head and emptying the contents of his stomach across my skirts. In the ensuing clean up of yet another mess, he slipped into gentle rest before I could conclusively prove him wrong.
Another thing I’d have to get revenge for. Another reason - no, another obligation to keep the idiot alive, no matter how exhausting.
It’s a hard thing, proper revenge, but absolutely worth doing right. I’d get him. Someday.
“We get a victory out of this teamup. What do you get?”
The supervillain didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Target practice.”
Been sitting on this one for a while - finally had the chance to finish it up! Thanks for a great prompt @gingerly-writing!
CW: horror movie levels of gore
The hero made it two thirds of the way into the enemy base before it was too much. They grabbed for the the wall and emptied the contents of their stomach across the dirt flagstone floor.
“Protein spill?” laughed the supervillain behind them and smoothly beheaded the remaining creature dragging itself over the other body pieces across the floor. The hero clenched their eyes shut and willed themselves not to heave again. “No wonder [Superhero] needed me to do the deed if you’re the toughest she’s got.”
The hero wiped their face, kicked dirt over their sick, and picked their crossbows back up. “Yep,” they said hoarsely, swallowing against the taste of bile in their throat. “You’re right, tough guy. Let’s get you to today’s bad guy, so you can go back to being the worst bad guy and we’ll all be happy again. Yay.”
They stepped carefully over the remains of the poor brainless creatures who’d had the misfortune to be guarding this corridor and stomped deeper into the necromancer’s lair, leaving the supervillain to bring up the rear. If the supervillain was offended, they showed no sign, their footsteps sauntering along behind their guide.
“I’ve always wondered,” the supervillain rumbled as the hero led the way, eyes wide for any other nests of minions and ears perked for the sound of the superhero’s decoy attack up above. “How someone with your particular skill set wound up on [Superhero]’s side and not mine.”
“What skill set is that?” the hero sighed, gesturing the supervillain’s attention to a tripwire. They both stepped over it, the hero having to give a little extra hop.
“The sharpshooting, darling. Putting that bolt or bullet or dart anywhere at will? I’d kill to have that power on my side!” the supervillain enthused. “You ought to be one of the most lethal persons in this whole cape business. Yet you languish on the B list with your silly little trick shots and joke ammo. Heads!”
The hero whirled and fired. The bolts of their crossbows punctured flawlessly through the - no. They forced their brain not to process. Two clean shots center head mass; two targets down one shot each.
The supervillain whistled their approval, lowering their own weapon to guard stance as the hero reloaded, eyes anywhere but on the bodies. “Case in point. Damn,” they said, nudging at the downed zombies with their boot. “All this time I imagined you reined in by your allies. Chafing at the bit to unleash your full potential. Never, never did it occur to me the white hats’ little assassin can’t stand the sight of a little blood.”
“I don’t have - !” The hero stopped, caught their breath. The supervillain tilted their head and gave their sword a playful little twirl. Gore flicked off the end. “Not an assassin. And I’m fine with a little blood, thanks. This has not been a little blood.” They hoisted their bows pointedly, stomped past the supervillain. “Anyway, great talk but let’s keep it mission-focused, eh?”
A hand grabbed the back of their shirt. A sharp sword point rested against the back of their neck.
The hero dove forward with a twist that snapped them free. They landed in a shoulder roll with a tuck and a half, came up on their knees, both crossbows aimed at the supervillain’s head, center mass.
“Whoa, just a slip in the muck, friend!” the supervillain exclaimed, hands raised innocently. “Goodness, someone’s jumpy. Keep those things aimed somewhere else -”
Abruptly the supervillain swung. The hero flattened themselves as the sword sliced through, came back up - to be smacked painfully across one wrist, grabbed by the other. The crossbows sprung into the floor and the wall, and the supervillain took the hero down to the ground.
“God, would you look at that?” the supervillain purred, easily pinning the hero’s empty hands above their head. “Had me dead to rights and still didn’t fire. It breaks my heart, to see a gift like yours go to waste.”
“I’ll break your damn head, you traitor!” the hero yelled, thrashing furiously. “I didn’t ask for this fucking curse!”
The supervillain grabbed their dagger and the hero froze, the blade razor sharp against their neck.
“Interesting,” the supervillain said, breathing a little hard, staring into the hero’s eyes as if trying to bore their way right to the brain. “That does explain a lot. Makes the easy way a little easier, the hard way much harder. But oh…” The supervillain ran the dagger tip down the hero’s throat. The hero’s breath caught at the heat in that gaze. “Oh, so much more fun.”
And then just as abruptly the supervillain stood, dagger away, sword back in ready position. The hero floundered to their feet, breath heaving, crossbows unsteady in their hands as they grabbed them up.
“Oh calm down,” the supervillain said with an eye roll, taking the lead without being asked, turning their back easily as if nothing had happened. “You’d think you’d never heard of sparring before.”
“You’re insane!” the hero gasped, not lowering their weapons from the supervillain’s upper rib cage area.
The supervillain stopped. Looked back over their shoulder. The hero took a step back. “I assure you,” the supervillain said. “I’m very, very sane. I’ve got what I need here. It’s time to focus on today’s target, mm hm?”
“You got what?” the hero asked.
The supervillain twirled their sword again, gave the hero a smile. “Target practice. Keep up now.”
And they walked off towards the fight.
