#hero whumpee
Villain has the upper hand and says something snarky just before they try to kill Hero. Fortunately, Hero gets rescued by Sidekick, with only a few moderate injuries.
Years later, Hero has to fight Villain again. They’re frightened going into it; but eventually Hero gains the upper hand, and they throw Villain’s words right back in their face.
(NOT A PR0MPT) inspired by the song “He Died in Dreams” by Ross Wylde
******
Villain died.
And, of course, Hero knew this. She knew this because the halls were cold, and because her sheets, no matter how long she laid beneath them, were never warm like before. She knew because the tea kettle wasn’t hot every morning like it was when Villain was here, when he inevitably awoke before her because the sounds of birds intrigued him.
Villain was dead.
Yet, Hero occasionally felt a brush of fingertips along her shoulders when the breeze picked up. It was as if Earth were reminding her what accompanied the delicate swoop of her hair. Rather, it was as if it were reminding her of what was missing.
Then again, the clasp of Hero’s necklace appeared at her front. No hand fixed the chain then.
Today, though, she heard a voice, and it tickled the back of her brain. “I need to stay with you,” it said at first. Then, “But I don’t know what to do.”
Tears sprung to Hero’s eyes because- yes- she knew that voice.
“This grief,” Villain’s voice said, “it hurts, and I know it’s hurting you, too.”
“Villain?” she whispered to the wind. A part of her wanted to believe in miracles. She wanted to believe Villain would materialize on the balcony, beneath the moon, and that when he did, he would cup her cheek in a hand and tell her all was well. Everything was a joke, Hero wanted to say to herself.
“The trees look different here, less solid,” the voice- Villain- continued, off topic. “The leaves and pine needles are just a visual, so your hand goes right through them. You can still use branches to climb. I guess there has to be some kind of symbol of life within death, even if it is just a solid branch. I think you’d like it. You were always so fond of meaning, of symbolism, weren’t you?”
“Are you here, Villain?” The question was desperate and perhaps panicked. Was Hero finally losing her mind? Maybe it was she who was dead, or dying, or whatever phase this was. Surely, surely, Villain wasn’t dead and speaking to her from the Land of the Dead. No. That wasn’t possible. So, it was Hero who was dead instead.
“You don’t really hear me, do you?” Villain asked. “It’s just a coincidence that you’re responding.” A pause occurred, and the man, who Hero progressively felt convinced was unreal, continued. “I know death is as difficult as life- probably more so- but you-”
Shewasdead?
No.
But he said-
I know death is as difficult as life.
Why was he saying that to her?
Everything was so confused in Hero’s mind. She could so vividly remember…remember her lover’s…his…she could remember his body. Breathless. Lifeless. Dead.
He was dead.
Then why did she keep questioning it?
“-know that, don’t you? I have to leave at some point, and it should be sooner rather than later. It would save us both the grief. Then again-”
Now was one of those moments in which Hero could imagine Villain pinching the skin between his brows. He was frustrated, and she knew that only through his tone.
“-I could just stay and we could live like this. Two voices in two realms, only one able to hear the other. It’s cruel,” Villain explained.
Hero agreed, “It is cruel,” but not about the two realms. It was obvious the two could hear one another- Villain simply couldn’t believe it.
“Which one of us is dead?” Hero asked, and to her surprise, crickets of the night responded. The near-silence made her feel as if no one had been speaking just moments prior, and made her feel as if she truly had gone insane. Who was to say she wasn’t? The only voice she’d heard in days were her own and a dead man’s. If anyone else in the world heard that statement, they’d put her in counseling. Worser yet, they’d treat her for schizophrenia.
“I almost feel sorry for you.”
Hero jumped at the voice behind her, her hands leaving the balcony before promptly carrying her weight in a spin. She faced the man behind her.
“You really don’t understand which one of you is dead?”
The way Hero’s heart hammered against her ribs made her hesitant to speak. She watched. But watching did nothing as Supervillain approached the balcony of Hero’s apartment. Her body was frozen.
“I had your mind racing earlier,” Supervillain commented, “when I made you think you heard your precious Villain. What makes that mind so empty now?”
Her mind was a blank sheet of printer paper waiting for instruction.
“If my presence is that troubling then why don’t you turn back around? Face away.”
“That would make everything worse,” Hero finally had the sense to snap. In the same moment, her sweaty hands curled into tight, white-knuckled fists. “I want you out.” Her voice shook, but her feet remained planted.
As mighty as she looked, Supervillain chuckled, so lightly intimidated that he even covered his eyes with a hand as if to scoop away tears. “That was cute,” he said. “That was really cute, but here’s the thing; I know how scared you are. I can hear you begging the world to prevent me from reminding you what I did to that little lover of yours.”
Already, it was enough to make Hero see Villain’s body all over again.
“He didn’t deserve it,” she whispered. Hero didn’t notice the way her chin was angled down until Supervillain lifted it in order to wipe away a tear. Weakness like this wasn’t meant to be shown. It made her look vulnerable. It made her look easy to take control over.
Supervillain’s fingers left Hero’s cheek and travelled to her chin as it began to fall again. He lifted her chin slowly while cooing softly to her. “Sh, sh, sh. All traitors deserve what they get.”
The way he said it like a reassurance made Hero’s stomach roll. “Why are you here?” Why is he-
“Tormenting you?” Supervillain shrugged. “Villain betrayed me. I killed him in my anger, and frankly, I’m not satisfied with it.” Exposing Hero’s neck, he said, “Seeing the fear in your eyes is as satisfying as it can get.”
It just made them more miserable. Stuck them with their own thoughts, staring at the ceiling. Wishing, in some horrid part of them, that they had been given mercy by the doctors.
Or, even better: That Supervillain had just killed them, rather than prolonging their poisoning.
“I can’t leave.” They pleaded. “Not yet. Can’t I stay just another hour?”
“No, Villain. We’ve been over this. You can come back tomorrow, bright and early, right at seven. Visiting hours are over.”
“You really thought this was the worst this city had to offer? This insect?”
Villain had had a lot of bad days in their time.
After all, one didn’t generally turn to villainy if all their life had been peachy keen. They weren’t one to enjoy thinking back to that, to their past, to all the things that led them to this point.
However, they were certain of one thing:
No matter how many horrid things they’d been through, how many dumpster fire days and tearful nights, today was, undeniably, the worst day of their life.
“Just stop it! Okay?” Hero said, palms white pressed against the door of their reinforced glass box. “You win, Villain. You don’t have to continue your monologue, just let me out. Please. You win. I give up. You win.”
Villain laughed, he’d acknowledge that Hero was a good actor, but not good enough. He hadn’t begun to threaten anyone yet. Right now was just about trapping Hero. He knew Hero never gave up so easily, he was too good.
“I’m not falling for it,” Villain said, eyeing Hero. The box was already lowered into the ground and their henchmen were beginning the burying process. “You’re staying in there until I’m finished.” Villain paused momentarily, maybe it wasn’t entirely an act. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of air and I’ll get you out when I’m done. You won’t die. I just can’t have you interfering with my plans.” Afterall, Villain had made a promise to Superhero.
“I won’t!” Hero screamed. “I promise. I won’t do anything. Please, let me out.” Tears fell down Hero’s face, Villain realized. Not that it would do much, but it was different than Hero’s usual behavior. Acting, Villain told themselves. It had to be acting.
Dirt came up to Hero’s chest now. The hole was half-way filled and Hero still shouted. Didn’t they realize that Villain wasn’t going to let them out? Maybe there was someone that Hero was trying to protect. “You’re not leaving, but I’ll give you one request, before I go.” That should be enough appease Hero’s panic. Not that it was important. Fake panic didn’t need to be appeased.
“Just let me out,” Hero said, “I won’t leave, just get me out of here. Please. I can’t— You can put me in a cell or something. Anything. I won’t fight you. Just—put me somewhere else. Please.”
“Come on, Hero,” Villain said, calling Hero out on his lie, “we both know you aren’t claustrophobic. Give it up.”
“I’m not—This isn’t—Please—I—” Hero wasn’t making any sense, but their breathing was getting harsher on Villain’s ears. Maybe this wasn’t acting. Maybe it was a real panic attack.
“Stop,” Villain instructed their henchman. They leapt into the hole, landing on Hero’s glass cage and peered down as Hero crumpled into a ball. Not very heroic, Villain thought. Granted, neither were the choking sobs.
Okay. So, Villain may have overestimated the man’s acting ability. He could acknowledge that. On the other hand, this could be a problem if he hadn’t but…
His hands fumbled for the key to the lock for the top access point of the cage. Frankly, this cage had to many access points and, as such, required far too many keys. Eventually he found the right key and pulled the lid up and away. Hero hadn’t even noticed. Sighing, Villain dropped into the half-buried cage himself.
“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on Hero’s back, “What’s up? You aren’t claustrophobic. I know that.”
“Please let me out,” Hero said. “I’m not dead this time. I’m not dead. I’m not dead.” Hero carried on with their mantra repeating it like a desperate prayer.
“Of course, you’re not dead,” Villain said, struggling to pull Hero to their feet. “You’re annoyingly alive.”
“Please don’t bury me again,” he asked between shallow breaths.
“I won’t,” Villain said. This was an honest panic attack—he’d never imagined that Hero would go into one. He didn’t mean to trigger Hero. That wasn’t in his plans. Really it wasn’t. He hoped he’d be able to convince Superhero of that later. Either way, they both needed to get out of here. “Henchman!” he called as he hoisted himself up and out of the container. He really needed to work on his upper body strength.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Help me pull Hero up.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Positive,” Villain said, reaching his hands down to Hero. “Hero, give me your hand.”
And the hero looked up at him, grabbing both his and Henchman’s hands.
Oooh, I never considered a glasscoffin for this purpose before! What a neat idea.
Hero goes to Villain for help
Warnings: kidnapping, drugging (implied)
“[Villain], I know you don’t trust me,” Hero said calmly, “but please hear me out. You have every right to hate me, but just… listen, please. I figured out how we can defeat [Supervillain]. Together. I know it sounds crazy, but I know you are capable of good things. And I want to help you. Sure, we don’t know each other that well, but if I tell everyone that you’re… that I’m… This will never work!”
Hero turned away from the mirror, cursing himself for thinking this was a good idea. He paced a small circle around the coffee table before returning to the mirror again. He rubbed a hand through his hair, smoothing it.
He looked himself in the eye.
“You can do this,” he told himself. “It’s just [Villain]. He’ll listen. He hates [Supervillain] just as much as you do. Why wouldn’t he help?”
He straightened his jacket one last time. He was about to walk out the door, but then—
What if Villain didn’t like the way he dressed? Seriously, it looked like he was trying too hard. Maybe he should change his outfit, make himself more appealing to Villain, like they were more like-minded than he thought. Yes, he should—
No. No, he was just being dramatic. And on second thought, Villain might find that suspicious and refuse to hear Hero out. And then what would he do? This outfit was fine. Better. Casually Heroic, in fact.
He checked his watch: 8:04 P.M.
Shit. He was going to be late. Well, not late late, but late in the sense that Villain might beat him there if he didn’t get a move on. And if Villain had to wait for Hero for even a minute, then Villain might just leave, because he had always been impatient like that. Hero couldn’t risk it. Villain couldn’t leave, he had to stay. He had to—
Hero rushed out the door, hearing it slam behind him.
The restaurant was only a few minutes away from Hero’s home. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have picked this location—it would be easy for Villain to follow him back—but he panicked, and Villain made him nervous, and Hero wanted to retreat somewhere familiar. He thought it would make him feel less vulnerable.
Upon seeing the restaurant, Hero’s shoulders relaxed, but he couldn’t rid himself of the nervous hum in his veins, infecting his heart with an irrational fear. He tried to control his breathing before entering the building.
The dining room was packed, but Hero would be able to spot Villain in any crowd. He sat down across from Villain in the booth, taking the side facing the bar.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” said Villain. He eyed Hero suspiciously, obviously mistrustful of him.
Hero shook his head and leaned into the table. He said, quietly, “I’m unarmed. You can pat me down if you don’t believe me.”
“No need to cause a scene,” Villain said. “Besides, that’s not what I’m worried about. Are you alone?”
“Yes. Just like we agreed.”
It made Hero uneasy, at first. He’d sent a letter to Villain, practically begging him to meet up with him, and Villain responded. And he agreed—of course he would, he’s Villain—but only if two conditions were met: (1) Hero did not bring any weapons, and (2) Hero came completely and utterly alone. Hero, foolishly, agreed to his request without requesting Villain do the same.
Hero took a deep breath.
“[Villain], I—”
“You need to relax,” Villain interrupted. “You look nervous. It’s putting the waitresses on edge. Here. Take my drink. It’ll help.”
Villain slid the glass across the table to Hero. Condensation gleamed on the glass. From the looks of it, he’d been here a while.
“I didn’t poison it,” Villain said, noticing Hero’s apprehension. Hero still didn’t take it. “Fine, don’t drink it then. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you if you don’t trust me, even this much.”
That’s what did him in. He finally relented, and reluctantly took the glass of water with trembling hands. He hoped Villain didn’t notice, but he knew he did. He was perceptive like that.
He drank from the glass until it was empty.
“[Villain],” Hero tried again, “I need to tell you something. About [Supervillain]. He—”
This time it was Hero who cut himself off. Looking over Villain’s shoulder, he noticed something strange about a man sitting at the bar, a certain familiarity that was on the tip of his tongue…
All hope that Hero had—what little of it that remained, anyway—was snuffed out the moment he realized who it was. He frowned. Maybe Villain wasn’t worth trusting after all.
“Are you going to invite your henchman over, or should I keep going?” Hero asked. “Or were you hoping to take me out from behind? We can switch places, if you’d like.”
Villain’s jaw clenched. The jig was up. He turned to look at Henchman, who rounded the bar and stood beside their table. Henchman glared at Hero but was otherwise silent.
Hero was about to ask Henchman to sit down, when Villain moved to stand up beside him.
“Get up,” Villain told Hero. He looked around to see if anyone was watching them. “Quickly. We don’t have much time.”
“What?” Hero asked, not trying to hide his confusion. Villain wouldn’t meet his eye. “What are you talking about? I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you about—”
“Not here,” Villain insisted. When Hero didn’t immediately move, Villain gestured to Henchman, who promptly moved to grab Hero by the arm.
Hero resisted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to. It’s not what we agreed to.”
“Do you want our help or not? You came to me, remember? I decide where this plays out.”
Hero felt dizzy. He didn’t know if it was due to standing up so quickly, or if the stress of the situation was getting to him, but it made his head spin.
“Where are we going?” Hero asked, when they were outside. Neither of them responded. He felt a lump building in his throat.
They led him to an alley behind the restaurant. The farther they walked, the more unsteady he felt on his feet. He tried to convince himself it was just the nerves making him feel this way. Yet the sensible side of Hero knew this never ended well. He had a strange feeling that if he didn’t leave now, he may never get the chance run away again.
Not knowing what else to do, he nervously rubbed his hands together, and looked to see if Villain was paying attention; he wasn’t.
“Oh, would you look at the time?” Hero announced. He checked his watch, the movement exaggerated. The dizziness hadn’t subsided yet. He continued, “I should probably get going. Sidekick will be expecting me. So, if you’ll just excuse me…”
Hero made to leave. A hand on his chest stopped him. It was Henchman.
“You won’t be going anywhere,” said Villain. “Not until you tell me what’s got you so spooked that you’d risk asking for my help.”
Villain faded in and out of his vision.
He was too weak to resist the hands pushing him into the vehicle. He didn’t remember much after that.
Heyo! I don’t do continuations anymore, however, I’ve decided instead of just telling people that ask that I don’t do continuations anymore, that I’d write a prompt in a similar vein to the requested prompt to be continued (if that makes sense). Either way, please enjoy!
“I’m fine!" [Hero] insisted as they tried to get up.
”[Hero] I heard your ribs crack when you hit the ground, you need to stay down.“ [Villain] insisted as they delicately took [Hero] by the shoulder, keeping them pinned as gently as possible.
"So you can stab me easier? No thanks.” [Hero] struggled, but every twitch shot lightning through their chest, paralyzing their lungs.
“You’re going to kill yourself like that.” [Villain] gritted their teeth as they forced them back down.
“Better than you killing me!” [Hero] growled right back.
June 16th- Chase and Catch
Cw: running, chasing, exhaustion, uhh falling, tripping, tackling, noncon touching, pinning, blood, head injury, uhhh idk what else
Hero couldn’t stop running.
Their lungs burned and their limbs ached, and by god they couldn’t
fucking breathe,but they had to keep running.
They could feel their stamina dwindling, every last shred of energy leaking from their tired muscles until they felt like each stride was draining away at their very life’s core, but they couldn’t fucking stop.
For every step they seemed to take, Villain took two.
Hero darted through the alleyways, the heels of their boots clicking loudly against the asphalt as they dodged past trash bags and dumpsters, barely managing to avoid face planting. Their feet were long past numb, a dull and heavy sort of pain beginning to creep up their legs as blisters undoubtedly formed and popped along their heels.
They didn’t dare look behind them as they took a sharp turn, nearly skidding into a brick wall as they bolted down a smaller, hidden alleyway. The half a second the action would take would undoubtedly lead to their demise.
They could hear Villain, hear the sharp thumpsof their enemy’s footsteps, drawing closer to them with each breath. They could hear Villain’s labored breaths as if they were right next to them, breathing in their ear-
Oh god they were catching up-
A loud cry tore from Hero’s throat as a weight crashed into their back, sending them sprawling to the ground. Stars exploded in front of their vision as their jaw knocked hard against the pavement, blood instantly beginning to fill their mouth. They let out a low groan, squeezing their eyes shut as a rough hand grabbed them by the hair and quickly flipped them over, a broad figure straddling their hips.
Villain grinned, their eerily sharp teeth glinting in the streetlight.
“I caught you.” They whispered.
June 15th- Back-Alley Medicine
Short but im tired deal w it
Cw: gunshot wound, wound care, crying, uhhh abuse, potential murder, maybe ish implied death, idk, emotions
Hero’s composure cracked, their stoic expression breaking into pure concern as they slowly eased Sidekick to the ground.
A small whimper of pain made their heart twist, an awful cold beginning to creep through the pits of their chest as an even worse warmth began to coat their palms. Blood, hot, sticky blood flowed freely from the deep wound in Sidekick’s chest, soaking through Hero’s gloves.
“Shh, shhh honey its okay,” Hero soothed quietly, pulling Sidekick’s head into their lap. They blinked hard, forcing back their own tears as they raised a hand, quickly pulling off their mask.
Somewhere in the battle, Sidekick’s own had been removed, likely ripped off by one of Villain’s henchmen if the scratches along their jaw and cheeks were anything to go by.
Sidekick’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs, their gaze watery and glazed.
“Hh’ro..?” They breathed, a tear slipping from the corner of their eye and trailing up their temple.
“Yeah- yeah Sidekick, it’s me, I’m right here buddy,” Hero whispered, quickly yanking off the outermost later of their uniform, the armored jacket, before tearing off a long strip of their shirt. “Just breathe, honey, it- it’ll all be alright..”
Sidekick nodded ever so slightly, a small hiss of pain slipping from their chapped lips as Hero pressed the ragged cloth against the bullet wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
“Just- just hold on for a bit longer, bud, Healer’s- they’re on their way..”
June 5th- “Sing to me, please?”
I have a theory… time to test it
Cw: possible death, murder, stabbing, angst, blood, crying, sad, feel like I’m missing something
A sob slipped from Hero’s lips as they clutched the limp form closer to their body, trembling fingers pressed tightly against their apprentice’s chest.
“Sidekick, st-stay with me-” Hero’s voice cracked, tears distorting their vision as warm, sticky blood soaked through the thick material of their gloves.
Below them, Sidekick let out a whimper, their clouded eyes unseeing as they gazed into the distance.
“Ple-please Sidekick, help- help is coming,” Hero promised, their other hand moving to clumsily push Sidekick’s bangs from their forehead. Stroking their hair, providing them with as much comfort as they could in these terrible moments.
Above them, thunder rolled across a dark sea of clouds as a bolt of lightning split the sky, for a moment illuminating the stain of scarlet that soaked the front of Sidekick’s uniform.
Somewhere in the far distance, a siren wailed.
“Come- cmon sidekick- please- please hold on,” Hero begged as tears streamed down their flushed cheeks, cutting pathways through the blood and grime. All of their own pain faded to the back of their mind, their bruised bones and tired muscles no longer meaning a thing.
Nothing meant a thing when their best friend was dying in their arms.
Sidekick’s breath hitched, the fog behind their eyes dissipating in a moment of clarity.
“He-hero-” They rasped, their pupils dilating as they focused on their mentor’s face.
“I- I’m here sidekick, I’m here,” Hero forced out, their voice cracking with emotion as they soothingly ran their fingers through Sidekick’s hair. They tried to stay strong. They had to stay strong. Sidekick needed them to be strong.
“Hh..h’ro…” Sidekick whimpered, squeezing their eyes shut as a tremor wracked their body. “t h’rts..”
“I know, sidekick, I- I know..”
Sidekick let out a shuddering breath, their eyes closing for a moment. When they reopened, they were noticing dimmer than before.
“H…ro..” Their voice was less than a whisper, so quiet Hero had to move their head closer to hear. “pl.. pl’se…. ss-sing t’ mm.. me?”
Hero’s eyes widened slightly, before they nodded, a terrible numbing ache spreading through their chest.
“Of- of course,” They cleared their throat, their hand leaving Sidekick’s hair for a moment to wipe the tears from their eyes. “Of course.”
Hero never was a big singer. The most they ever did was hum a tune in the shower, or tap their fingers along to a rhythm as they filled out paperwork. If sidekick had asked them at any other time, they would’ve given a hearty laugh and a shake of their head.
But now-
But now hero sang.
It wasn’t good, no, not at all. Their voice cracked and broke, the melody completely lost in their grating voice.
They didn’t stop singing as the ambulances finally arrived and Sidekick’s eyes drifted shut.
“Th..nk… y’h…”
June 1st- “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop, alright?”
Mhhhhhh wasn’t planning on doing this but now that may is over I need content. I’ll try to post the second today also but I might wait til tmrw
Cw: slight gore, blood, screaming, wounds, wound cleaning
Villain let out a small cry, their entire body stiffening as Hero eased them down onto the couch. Their breath came in short, shallow bursts, each rise and fall of their chest causing a fresh bolt of pain to shoot through their chest.
“Shhh, shhh, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, their voice frantic and hushed as they took a quick step back, raising their hands as if they were afraid to hurt villain more. “I’m sorry- we can’t stay here long, we only have like ten minutes until the police get here-”
Their rambling was cut off as Villain let out another groan, clapping a hand over their mouth as they tried to stifle a cry, barely containing themself.
“Ff-fuck, get- get th-” They whimpered, a tear dripping down their flushed cheek as they clutched the rag tighter against the wound. Warm blood bubbled up from the terrible cut , soaking through the scraps of fabric and staining the cushions below them.
“Oh-” Hero blanched, suddenly remembering what the whole point of returning to their apartment was. They quickly turned, dashing to the bathroom and throwing open the cabinets door.
Toothbrushes and combs, bottles of unopened shampoo and conditioner flew through the air, creating a commotion that would have been comical given any other situation.
“I GOT IT!” Hero yelled, nearly hitting their head on the sink as they stood up, tripping over their own feet as they sprinted back to the living room.
In a quick movement, they ripped open the first aid kit, and dumped the contents out on the rug.
Bandaids… gauze… q-tips.. -was that a flashlight?
Hero didn’t have time to question Villain’s organization as they found what they were looking for, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and a stray piece of gauze.
“Villain- hey Villain, I need you to look at me,” Their voice was higher than normal, their nerves seeping into their tone as they watched the bloodstain across Villain’s front but surely grow. “You know- you know that once I start this, I- I won’t be able to stop, right?” They asked as they twisted the cap off the bottle, soaking the solution onto the gauze.
Villain only whimpered in response, their face scrunching in pain as they slowly pulled their hand away from the wound, allowing Hero access.
Hero’s stomach flipped, bile creeping up the back of their throat as they examined the deep gash across the mess of blood and muscle that was once Villain’s abdomen.
“This- this is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, quickly bringing the gauze to the wound.
