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Reputations and Expectations

A Hero/Villain piece. Minor cw for violence.

It is to be noted that this is one of the few remaining H/V pieces. Cursed Prince posts will resume promptly.

The Hero and Villain faced each other, violent intent marring their expressions. 

Both bled freely from the myriad wounds they’d inflicted upon each other: the Villain had a split lip and several loose teeth, but they’d given their own back by blacking both of the Hero’s eyes and breaking their nose for the umpteenth time.

Their fight had been scrappy, violent, not so much to kill as to maim. 

To hurt and scar. 

All The Villain had simply taken the Sidekick prisoner, and the Hero had retaliated by targeting the Minion, taking their torment a step further. 

The Hero had beaten the Minion so soundly that the Villain hadn’t recognized them, finding them only thanks to the tracking necklace they made them wear.

“Since when… did you stop pulling punches?” The Villain panted, wiping blood from their aching mouth. Grim determination contorted their bloody face into a sneer.

“Since you made this personal.” The Hero snarled. They made to lunge, but drew up short, a hand pressed to their undoubtedly broken ribs. 

The Villain exhaled sharply in disbelief.

“You thought I wouldn’t retaliate when you beat my Minion?” 

Thanks to the Hero the Minion had lost an eye, and had required reconstructive surgery. Even now, they was laid up in the Villain’s private medical ward, unconscious and hurting. 

Silence rang through the abandoned lot. The Hero stared at the Villain through slitted eyes, righteous hatred radiating from them like heat from a flame.

“Figures.” The Villain sagged, bracing their hands on their knees, staring at the Hero a gimlet eye. “It’s always a double standard with you galumphing Hero types. It’s okay for you to beat the shit out of people in ‘the name of good,’” – the Villain’s tone dripped with sarcasm – “but as soon as I, the Villain, retaliate in kind it’s wrong?”

“They’re not involved.” The Hero argued. Their breathing was labored, wheezing from between clenched teeth. Satisfaction welled within the Villain: they had finally, finally, managed to hurt the Hero in a fight.

“They became involved the moment they came into your life, my darling.” They snapped back. “You’re just too blind to recognize that what you call protection is damnation!”

“From you!”

“From me?! You absolute shit filled idiot! It’s not just me. It’s never just been me. And do you know why?”

The Hero remained silent and glaring, shoulders hitching in pain.

“Because I swore that I would flay and gut anyone who crossed you without my leave. You think you know what power is.” The Villain laughed, only to fold double with a wet cough. Blood dribbled from their mouth, landing with a wet pat on the cement. “Well, darling. That, is power.”

“It’s not true power if it’s based in fear,” The Hero argued. 

“And what would you have it be? Respect?”

“Ideally? Yes.”

“Well news flash for you. Fear and respect are of a kind, in the grand scheme of things. At least with fear you actually know where you stand with people. They’re not lying behind your back or to your face, making protestations that they love and adore you when in truth they are terrified of you. Terrified of what you may become should your oh so precious morals fail.

“Me?” The Villain uttered a bitter, agonized laugh. “They know what I am, and I know what they think I am. They don’t expect me to ask for forgiveness, and I’m unapologetic in my actions. That’s as close to being truly free as you can be in this fucked society.”

“That sounds like a lonely way to live.”

The Villain rolled their eyes and straightened, throwing their shoulders back despite the pain that racked their entire body.  

“It’s a true way to live, dear Hero. And I’d rather be isolated and lonely and free than surrounded by the cage of the peoples’ adoration.” They turned and limped away, the Hero’s gaze searing into their back. “Don’t think this is over, either.” The Villain paused and sent a look of complete, malicious intent over their shoulder at the sagging Hero. “This is just the beginning, dear Hero. Revenge is a sweet and sublet thing, and subtly has never been your strong suit. You’ll be lucky if you survive long enough to see that revenge come to fruition.”

With that they left, refusing to let the Hero see just how much pain they were in.

When starting a war, it never bode well for your enemy to know you were weak before the first shots were even fired.

And what a war this would be. 

A Treacherous Path

Trigger warning for violence, dub con, and minor sexual content

After losing yet another fight, the Hero woke once again in the Villain’s home.They were tied, as usual, to an uncomfortable chair. Though this time they were in what they assumed was some sort of sitting room. Though, given the presence of only a single love seat across from the their chair, they had to assume this room served other, darker purposes most of the time.

Disgusted with themselves, with the Villain, and with the world in general, the Hero immediately began working at the knots that bound their hands. The Villain’s rope work was spectacular as usual, but the Hero had been doing research. In a matter of minutes and a few dislocated joints, they had their hands and one foot free. They were working on the other one when the Villain entered the room. 

“Wha…” the Villain gaped, dropping their tea. It hit the hardwood floor and shattered. 

With a snarl the Hero tore the remaining rope from their body, and launched themselves at the Villain. This was a rare opportunity and they weren’t going to waste it. Besides, they had a score to settle.

Coming within reach, the Hero flung a fist at the Villain, hoping the suddenness of their attack was enough. 

It wasn’t. With effortless grace, the Villain dodged the blow, and landed one of their own on the Hero’s ribs. 

The Hero grunted, but turned and attacked again. 

“Well isn’t this fighting spirit new,” the Villain commented, dodging one punch only to take a kick to their upper thigh. They staggered, but maintained their defensive position. 

“Oh, it’s always been here,” panted the Hero, eyes burning. 

“Has it? I hadn’t noticed.”

The Hero yelled, and threw themselves at the Villain. Shockingly, the direct attack worked. The Villain – surprised at finding the Hero free, and unbalanced from the blow to their leg – wasn’t fast enough. They tried to slip aside as they always did, but instead caught the Hero’s bulk full in the chest. 

They barely had time to catch their breath before the Hero slammed them into the wall, knocking the wind from them again. Using the moment, the Hero grabbed their neck, locking their fingers behind their jaw. The Villain’s eyes bulged in surprise. 

“I should crush your throat,” the Hero growled. “For what you did to my Sidekick.”

“Ah, so that’s what’s got you so worked up.” The Villain grabbed the Hero’s shirt and twisted, searching for a hold. They kneed the Hero in the thigh, stepped on their feet, but it was no use. The Hero’s grip was relentless. As was the weight of their body, keeping them pinned against the wall. “I was wondering when that would come up. I should have thought of it soo-achk-“

Their taunt was cut off as the Hero upped the pressure on their throat. 

The Villain had a moment of panic as their vision darkened on the edges. But they found they still had a voice. 

“Do it then,” the Villain goaded, vocal cords whistling. Their eyes gleamed dangerously. “Avenge your Sidekick.”

The Hero sneered, and nearly lifted the Villain off the ground. 

The Villain smirked, despite being choked. They knew they had the upper hand now. 

“Ah. But you… won’t, will… You… You’ve proven… that before.” 

The Hero snarled and leaned in, thinking rapidly. Clearly threats of physical harm didn’t work with on the Villain.  Their face was a breath from the Villain’s.

 A sudden thought occurred to them, something that could potentially put the odds in their favor.  

They slackened their grip on the Villain’s neck and closed the distance. They breathed on the Villain’s lips, holding the Villain’s gaze with their own. 

“What are you doing?” The Villain asked, bemused and completely nonplussed. They even stopped struggling, their body still.

“I…” The Hero’s chest rose and fell with startled breaths. It hadn’t worked. But something had shifted. “I don’t…”

Suddenly the tension between them was different. More heated. 

One moment, they’d been seconds away from killing each other, the next…

The Villain pulled on the Hero’s collar, bringing them closer.

Their gazes locked.

And then they were kissing. 

Frantically. 

Viciously. 

The Hero’s hands shifted from the Villain’s throat to cup their head and grab their hair, and the Villain wrapped their arms around the Hero, suddenly needing to truly feel them. 

The Hero broke the kiss first, gasping. 

“What are you doing?” They rasped, fingers till tangled in the Villain’s glossy hair. 

“I don’t know.” The Villain giggled. “You started it though, and isn’t it wonderful?” They kissed the Hero again, fingers digging into the muscles of their back. 

Deciding to return the odds to their favor, the Villain reached up and jerked the Hero’s hair, pulling their head back. 

The Hero let out a startled yelp that turned into a sigh as the Villain began kissing their neck. They pressed kisses to the hollow of their throat, their collar bone, the pocket behind their jaw, and was pleased to hear the Hero’s breathing become even more ragged. 

Backing them up towards the love seat, the Villain pressed the Hero to their knees. The Hero didn’t resist, instead pulling the Villain down with them. 

With no idea what they were doing, but enjoying it all the same, the Villain straddled the Hero’s hips and leaned the Hero back until their back was pressed into the couch cushions, chest and throat beautifully exposed. 

This was certainly a new way to play their little game. And the Villain was far from disappointed with this development.

With a quick shrug of their shoulders the Villain freed themselves from the Hero’s arms. Grabbing their wrists, they extended and pinned the Hero’s arms down, holding them in place with the weight of their body. Staring down at the Hero, prone before them as they should be, the Villain decided they wanted to continue whatever this was shaping up to be. They kissed the Hero again, letting their desire for control guide them. 

The Hero struggled, but only half heartedly, and after a few seconds they melted into the Villain’s rhythm.

Forgetting themself and their game, the Villain released one of the Hero’s hands to run their hand under the Hero’s shirt.

“Oh Hell,” the Villain breathed, feeling the Hero’s body in a completely new way.

Finding a hand free, the Hero briefly considered fighting, doing anything besides continuing to maul the Villain’s face. Instead they wrapped an arm around the Villain’s back and pulled them closer. 

A surprised gasp escaped the Villain at the new friction between them, and the Hero grinned like a cat. 

Clearly this was a game, and two could play.

Feeling the Villain tense, the Hero lurched forward, sending the Villain sprawling backwards. The Hero sprang after them and straddled them, pinning their shoulders to the ground with their elbows. 

Perplexed, the Villain stared at the Hero, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. 

The Hero looked down at them, surprised at themselves. 

“What now?” The Villain asked, trying and failing to keep their tone steady; their voice cracked halfway through the question. 

Digging their elbows in, the Hero leaned forward, savoring the way the Villain gasped in discomfort. 

“Now?” The Hero mused. Their expression turned positively devious. They shifted their hips, and the Villain tipped their head back, eyes closed, throat bobbing as they swallowed a moan. “Now, I leave you with a parting gift.”

Leaning down, they kissed the Villain hard and swift. Then they shot to their feet and bolted out the door, leaving the Villain too stunned and frustrated to follow. 

***

The Hero didn’t stop running until they reached the street outside. They took the stairs three at a time, practically falling on the bottom flight in their haste to get away from… whatever that was. 

On the street, the night air was cool against their flushed cheeks. The Hero slowed to a brisk walk, feeling like their skin was too tight.

They took a shaky breath, mind reeling.

They shook their head, surprised to find that they were trembling.

But they weren’t… scared. They were… 

Exhilarated. 

Blinking, the Hero realized with horror that they liked the feel of the Villain’s hands on them, the way they…

No. The Hero thought. I shouldn’t be… We’re sworn enemies, nemeses. Hero, and Villain. I can’t afford to let the Villain get to me like that. Especially not after what they did.

They thought about what the Villain had done to their Sidekick, tried to elicit some of the rage they’d felt such a short time ago. It was there, that rage and hate. But it didn’t feel as potent in light of what had transpired between themself and the Villain.

Their thoughts strayed back to the feeling of the Villain beneath them, of the Villain at their mercy for once. 

It was intoxicating, that kind of power. 

The Hero suddenly understood the Villain on a level they never thought they would, and wasn’t sure they wanted to. 

Shaking themselves from their dazed reverie, the Hero turned a corner and hailed a cab. They were in no state to drive. Besides, the likelihood of a Minion lurking by their car was high, and they didn’t want to go back to that room. Back to the Villain.

At least not yet.

Sliding into the back seat of the cab, and absently giving their address, the Hero couldn’t refute the fact that they had been the one to initiate the shift in the game.

 And as much as they wanted to deny it, to deny everything that had just happened, the Hero knew they had just taken a step down a very treacherous path indeed.