A Minion/Villain piece.

A little different from previous posts, this piece introduces a new, recurring character: The Minion. After all, what is a Villain without a Minion, or a Hero without a Sidekick?

“Where were you? The Villain’s voice was cold. 

Caught in the middle of removing their coat, the Minion looked up, finding their Mastress sitting in a chair by the bay windows. Dusk was falling, staining the sky plum and citrine as a curtain of depthless indigo descended over the world. 

“I was running errands,” they said, hanging their coat and scarf on the rack. “Some of the supplies were low, and I thought-“

“Come here,” the Villain interrupted, waving at them to approach. 

Obediently, the Minion came to stand at the Villain’s side.  

“Why did you not tell me?” The Villain’s tone sent a thrill of warning through the Minion’s chest.  

“You were busy,” they said truthfully, hands stuffed in their pockets. “When I got back with the supplies you were still locked in your office, so I met someone for dinner.”

“Who did you meet?”

The Minion hesitated, fearing to say too much. 

“A friend.” It was true, to a point, but they didn’t want the Villain involved in their personal life more than they already were. 

Without warning The Villain surged to their feet and wrapped their hands around the Minion’s neck, driving them to their knees. The Minion didn’t resist, merely met the Villain’s gaze with something like resigned trust. 

“You are mine!” The Villain growled, squeezing just tight enough for the Minion’s eyes to widen in surprise. A moment later they released the Minion’s throat with a scoff, only to grip their cheeks instead, digging their nails in. “Do you understand?” They hissed. “Mine, and mine alone.” 

The Minion inhaled gently, relieved to have the Villains hands off their neck. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, nor would it be the last. Still, it was unsettling. 

“Say it.” The Villain’s voice was harsh, their expression difficult to read. 

The Minion blinked once, slowly, holding the Villain’s unwavering gaze. 

“I am yours.” They said softly, devoutly. 

“And?” The Villain dug their nails in harder. The Minion suppressed a wince. 

“Your wish is my command, Mastress.” 

A tense moment passed, neither so much as breathing. 

“Good.”

With a flourish the Villain released the Minion, leaving red crescent moons etched into the skin of their cheeks. 

Slowly, so as not to provoke them, the Minion rose to their feet, assuming a neutral stance. 

“Mastress?”

The Villain pressed their fingertips to the bridge of their nose, eyes closed.

“It’s been a long day,” the Villain sighed, as if carrying on a previous conversation. As if nothing untoward had happened. “I require a drink. You know which, I take it?” 

“Of course.” 

The Minion was about to leave when the Villain stopped them with a gentle touch on their shoulder. Pausing, the Minion turned, their chest a mere breath from the Villain’s. 

“I haven’t told you this enough, darling,” the Villain murmured. “But you… you are the reason…”

The Minion raised a hesitant brow when the Villain didn’t continue. 

“The reason?”

Forgoing an answer the Villain pressed their lips to the Minion’s, lingering just long enough to convey a vague sense of desperation. Grinning as they pulled back, the Villain savored the warring expressions on the Minion’s face; confusion, desire, fear, concern. 

“Why, you’re the reason I remain so fabulous, despite the Hero’s best efforts to make me otherwise.” 

The Minion nodded, a bemused smile on their mouth. 

“It’s my pleasure, Mastress,’ they said, their expression settling back into carefully practiced neutrality. “Shall I get your drink then?” 

The Villain waved their hand dismissively, the kiss already forgotten. 

“As you will, my dear.” 

Bowing slightly, the Minion departed. When they returned the Villain had resumed their seat by the window, staring out at the night-enshrouded cityscape below them. Without a word they set the drink on the table at the Villain’s elbow. 

“Do you require anything else, Mastress?” They asked. 

The Villain merely waved their fingers. But rather than cupping their chin again they took the Minion’s hand, staying their departure. 

“Stay here tonight,” they said. Their thumb traced idly over the Minion’s knuckles. “I want you ready for tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mastress.” 

The Minion returned the pressure of the Villain’s grasp before slipping their fingers free. 

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll turn in, then.” 

Nodding idly, the Villain continued contemplating the view, knuckle pressed to their lips in thought. 

Taking the silence as a dismissal, the Minion headed for their bedroom, the door on the far side of the room. They stepped through and were about to close it when they paused. 

“Good night, Mastress,” the Minion said. 

“Good night, my darling. Sweet nightmares.” 

The Minion smiled and closed the door.