An Enemy To Lovers And One Bed Trope But I Need Their Responses In The Morning Being Strangled To Eachother

the duality of self.

when neville was referring to us humans as gods of our realities, he meant it. not only was he referring to our abilities — which are god-like — he was also talking about our existence as god.

human in reality.

in this outer world, this physical place, you are human — god in the human body. the reason why you are a human in physical form is the same reason why everything around you is physical as well. it’s because you are CONSCIOUS of it. your consciousness creates… everything. pretty much everything. therefore, the reason why you experience life as a human is because you are CONSCIOUS of being human. we could take a step further and say that the same goes for your entire 3D. it is also a byproduct of your imagination, just like your physical body. perceiving the world with your senses, having these senses in the first place is all possible due to imagination.

god in imagination.

if the five senses — smelling, tasting, touching, hearing, seeing — are your natural human senses, what about god's natural sense? god's sense is IMAGINING. for god, there is only one sense and it’s the ability to create. to have the power to create the world according to your imaginative acts in your own imagination is your most natural sense. it’s in your nature to create. all because IMAGINATION is your true reality, just like GOD is your true self.

the god and human self.

so, when neville calls you the GOD of your reality, he is pointing at your imagination. yourself, in imagination, is god. your imagination is god. your consciousness is god. your awareness of being is god. it’s not your human body in flesh and blood. you don’t need to convince yourself that your human self possesses the same qualities as your god self. your body, if you like it or not, isn’t your true self. it is a creation of you, god in imagination. it’s a conception of the conceiver. and the conceiver is forever greater than its conception.

you are god. and besides you, there is no other.

with love, ella.

Dumb DR idea numero 1

Castlevania DR but you were straight up Isekai'd into the world of Castlevania from this reality. Weather you become a vampire or something else on your arrival is up to you.

cw: spicy

Hero slowed their running to a stop, their chest heaving up and down as they caught their breath. Their lungs burned slightly and their blood zinged with adrenaline. Their eyes landed on the villain, their back leaned up against a building as they also caught their breath. A smirk came over their features as they took in their tired form.

The chase was over. Hero had Villain in the palm of their hand. Honestly, they could have caught up to them much sooner, but they loved the chase. They loved this game of cat and mouse they played with the villain. The flustered look that always came over their face when Hero caught them. 

Just like the one they wore now as Hero pressed them firmly against the brick building, deep in the shadows where no one could see them. Their disheveled appearance, their face flushed a deep red, their heartbeat racing a mile a minute against Hero’s own chest. Hero loved Villain like this, flustered and weak in the knees for Hero. It fit them so well.

Villain tried to break free from the Hero, but to no avail. Hero had their hands pinned above their head and a knee wedged between their legs. Villain was helpless against Hero, they weren’t going anywhere.

“What do you want, Hero?” asked the villain with a defeated sigh. Hero pressed closer, their noses barely brushing against each other as they spoke.

“You know exactly what I want,” said Hero. “I know you were on that team that stole those diamonds.”

“You think Supervillain is going to destroy the city with a bunch of diamonds?” asked Villain. This earned a laugh from the hero, head thrown back and everything. 

“Oh, villain, you crack me up,” they said. “No. I couldn’t care less why they want the diamonds, I’m just simply assigned to take them back. And lucky for me, you were on the heist team.”

Their free hand came up to ghost over Villain’s jawline, angling their face up to gain access to their neck. They placed their lips on the villain’s neck, starting with a few pecks just under their ear. Hero could feel them tense up upon the initial contact before relaxing against them. A winning smirk took form on their lips, the villain always reacted the way they wanted.

“Where are the diamonds?” they asked.

“You can’t seduce the answer out of me,” sighed the villain, but despite their words, their head moved on its own to grant Hero more access.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Hero. “It works like a charm.”

They lightly ran their fingers down Villain’s side, making sure to graze over every sensitive spot Villain had. They stopped at the waistband of Villain’s jeans, dancing their thumb over the exposed skin above their hip and earning a shuddering sigh from their criminal.

“Not this time,” Villain said. A choked gasp escaped their lips when the hero’s leg made firm contact with the area between their thighs. They subconsciously jutted forward to chase the friction of their nemesis’ leg. “I promised Supervillain I wouldn’t tell, they’ve been planning this heist for years.”

Hero breathed hotly over Villain’s ear, thoroughly enjoying Villain’s reaction to their every move. “Don’t worry love, I’ll keep your pretty name out of my mouth.” 

They moved away from Villain’s neck, looking them in the eyes as they batted their lashes and put on their best puppy dog look. Their lips brushed over the Villain’s as they spoke.

“C’mon, Villain, won’t you tell me?” they asked prettily. “Please?”

Villain sighed audibly, Hero’s free hand had made it all the way under their shirt, cool fingers playing with sensitive skin. They couldn’t think with the hero’s hands all over them, their leg pushing between their thighs in a beautiful friction, their lips so close to their own, their sultry voice like music in their ears. 

They knew they shouldn’t but they caved, muttering the exact location of where to find the stolen diamonds and exactly how to get past security. They knew they wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long; Hero was too good at bending them to their will, too good at getting what they wanted. They felt too good against Villain for them to not give in to them. They could feel the movement of Hero’s lips as they formed into a smirk. 

“Good Villain,” the hero praised, causing a sense of pride to swell up in Villain’s chest. They loved being praised by Hero, they way the words fell so easily out of their mouth like a villain being good was the natural thing.

“It’s time for your reward.”

Villain didn’t wait for Hero to move, they lurched their head forward, mashing their lips with the hero’s in a much needed kiss. They melted into the kiss, drowning in the sensation of having them pressed so wonderfully close to them. Hero hummed against their lips, quickly taking control as they pulled Villain impossibly close. 

They took their time to undo the villain, ravaging them in the secluded alley. They raked their nails over Villain’s skin beneath their clothes, sucked numerous hickeys into hidden places as well as very obvious places. They marked the criminal as theirs, abused all of their sensitive areas with experience that came from multiple sessions like this between the two. They turned the villain into putty in their hands, drawing out long-winded moans Villain had to suppress with their hand.

By the end, they were clinging tightly to each other and panting heavily into the others’ mouths. Villain’s hands clutched hard onto Hero shoulders, a blissed out expression on their face as they eyed the hero’s smirk.

“You’re an evil hero,” they sighed. This earned a chuckle from the hero, who stole yet another kiss from Villain’s swollen lips.

“Only for you, pretty,” replied the hero, their own hands wrapped around the villain in a way that looked like a hug. “Same time next week? I believe you've got a crime of your own I need to stop.”

Villain nodded enthusiastically, probably a bit too enthusiastically, but they couldn’t bring themself to care. This game of cat and mouse was too exciting, too addicting for the villain to stop. They craved the attention they got from the hero, their body zinging with anticipation every week. 

They knew the dangers of this; the feelings that would eventually catch on, the mess it could easily turn into if they’re not careful. The potential loss of one another if feeling ever did catch. The pain of an unrequited love. 

But for now, they focused on the present. The hero’s strong arms around their waist and the endless stream of kisses they always left on their shoulders. The promise of another chase through the city. Another game of cat and mouse that will eventually end in disaster.

But only if Villain stayed oblivious to the fondness that resided behind the hero’s eyes as well.

Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

Ring of Engagement

Villain locked the cuffs around Hero's wrists, "You're at fault for getting stuck in this situation." They sighed. Hero was on a terrible losing streak this month, and a part of Villain wanted to ask what was wrong; then again, what right did they have to ask those questions? They only ever met with them once a couple of weeks.

Their eyes had caught something they hadn't noticed as they secured the cuffs, "A ring?" They smirked, "I didn't know you were engaged."

Hero grumbled something and reluctantly let themselves be led away to the vehicle. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to Villain that Hero might've had a life outside their job, but the thought had disturbed them enough to grow slightly annoyed at the proposition. "I didn't take you for being a potential spouse." They off-handedly commented. They weren't entirely sure why they said it, maybe just to pass the time or to fill in the empty silence at Hero's refusal to banter.

They pushed them into the front seat before stepping to the driver's side and starting the ignition. It would take a while until they arrived at the lair, mainly because they had moved it outside of town to avoid the growing dangers surrounding the downtown area.

"How're you feeling?" They glanced to the right of them and caught Hero's annoyed stare.

"Are you going to keep talking, or are we gonna do this in peace?"

"A little grumpy today, huh?" They chuckled and pulled the car onto a highway. "Get used to me because we'll be stuck together."

"For fuck's sake..." They leaned back into the chair and fiddled with the metal, locking their hands together; a specialized handcuff prevented a person from using their powers. 

"So what's up with the ring? You got a family?"

Hero scoffed lightly and stared out the window. "Why? Were you interested?"

Villain felt their ego shift a bit, "What? No. You're way in over your head, dear." They licked their teeth and stifled an uncontrolled laugh, "Besides, you're not even my type." 

"Okay, well, you're not my type either."

The soft hum of the tires running along asphalt covered the few minutes of silence between them again as Villain wondered if engaging further would bring more harm than good. Still, their inability to keep their lips shut made them decide, "It's a cheap-looking ring anyway." They mumbled. 

Their adversary laughed heartedly, "Are you seriously judging me for a ring? Just let it go already!"

"I'm not judging, it's just ugly."

"You're ugly."

"You would actually settle down with someone who can barely give you a proper ring? Wow."

Hero shrugged, "And you could do better?"

They clicked their tongue, almost too glad they had asked, "I sure as hell would."

Their rival smiled and looked in Villain's direction. "All this for a ring with no meaning..."

Villain spared a second to shoot a glare at Hero's smugness. Yet, somewhere inside, they'd gone through the stages of grief until swift recovery at the newfound information. Villain smiled pleasantly, and Hero had mistaken it for another challenge. Their eyes scanned them for another reaction besides the failed attempt to laugh with joy. They couldn't believe their luck. Hero wasn't engaged.

What a relief.

"What's so funny?" Hero asked.

"Nothing," they smirked again and continued focusing on the road.

"You've flamed me all day for my romantic decisions--"

Villain shrugged. "What? I already told you I'm not interested. You can do whatever you want with your love life. Go marry a hero for all I care." They rolled their eyes and tightened their grip on the steering wheel. Yet, Hero could see they kept that smile, a sense of satisfaction.

Hero crossed their legs and faced the window again, "Yeah, maybe I will. Better than someone with a criminal record."

Their eyes squinted, a flash of irritation and some bitter hurt stung through those words, and even though they had previously said very clearly that they weren't interested, the intense pain that arrived moments afterwards promised a different reality. 

They took a deep breath, their brows furrowed, and without any warning, Villain pulled the car over abruptly, the car set on idle. "First of all, you have no reason to bring up my past."

"What's your deal anyways, Villain? Just keep driving."

"No. You're saying this, and you're saying that you better stay off of my back."

"Or what?" they smirked calmly. Their unbothered eyes hid another suppressed feeling they had only seen a few times previously. Villain unbuckled their seatbelt without much thought; they'd pushed their lips roughly against Hero's. Their hands pulled at their attire, and in response, Hero reciprocated with an equal amount of fierceness. Their lips locked in a battle for control, tugging and roughly pushing them back down again repeatedly. 

Their eyes opened momentarily in a silent argument for domination. Unfortunately, Hero was always on a losing streak, and their bad luck had returned in the form of a small trickle of blood down their lip as Villain bit slightly harder than intended. It didn't have to come down to it, but Hero forced it upon themselves.

"Fucking idiot," Villain breathed heavily against their mouth and licked lightly at the cut, "Look what you made me do to you." 

Hero winced, their breath bated and sharp. They patiently waited for Villain to undo their seatbelt, "That hurt, you animal."

"Shut up," Villain shoved Hero to the back of the car; they rechecked the vehicle to be left in park while busy only momentarily. Hero sat on the leather chair, still trying to understand their surroundings. Their enemy followed quickly behind with much more elegance than them, "What are you sitting around for? Get on your back."

"You're going to have to make me!" 

______

The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the streets dark. Long empty stretches of road were trapped between a suffocating line of pine trees. The sky was a dim blue, heavy with clouds as they began to roll in.

Hero woke up a little warmer than expected. Villain had left their coat lying on top of them, which kept them from the chilly temperatures of the season's end as they approached fall. 

Hero could barely make out Villain's words through the dull sounds of the vehicle's engine. "Up already?" They glanced at the rearview mirror and adjusted it slightly. 

They could only groan as they struggled to sit up from their position. It was much harder to do with the handcuffs still on their wrists. Villain would never let their guard down, even if they knew there wasn't any threat at their weakest state. "I'm starving."

"As I expected." They smirked, "Just give me a second, I know a place." They pulled the car over to what looked like a diner. Its bright light nearly burned their eyes if they hadn't squeezed them shut in time. 

Villain stepped out of the car and opened the back door. "C'mon now, don't waste my time."

Hero took a deep breath and used what little strength was left to scoot to the edge. 

"Wait."

Villain leaned into the car and looked them over, their hands reaching around their neck and pushing their hair to one side. Villain's hands were exponentially colder than theirs, and instinctively, Hero had goosebumps at the touch of their icy fingers along their neck and down their collarbone. 

"You're freezing." They murmured. 

"I know." They whispered back and straightened up again, "Stay here."

From the trunk of the car, Villain pulled out a scarf and stuck out a hand to help them out of the vehicle. They would have nearly collapsed on themselves if it hadn't been for Villain's quick catch. "Easy there." They helped them up and wrapped the scarf around their neck with careful focus. Next, they undid their cuffs; Hero was just glad they weren't going in with them still on. In place of the cuffs, however, Villain took it upon themselves to reach for their hand. 

Even though they complained of the cold earlier, it felt nice. Villain's hands were comforting as they stayed secured onto them. Hopefully, they knew that; it would be a shame otherwise.

"Be good." Villain shut the door, and they walked inside the diner.

Villain insisted on sitting next to them rather than across, and it wasn't like they had a choice in the matter anyway since they were the prisoner. Whatever it was, it was probably out of fear of them escaping. They had Hero sit between the window and them. "What do you want?" They slid over the menu in their direction.

With heavy eyelids, they tapped on the sheet at whatever was closest. "This one."

"This one? You sure?"

They nodded. All Hero wanted to do was go back to sleep; they only woke up due to hunger. One of the employees walked over and took their order. Villain did the talking; they could only stare outside at the small shower of rain that began to pour from the sky. "How long until we get to your lair?"

"That's confidential." They said. 

Hero narrowed their eyes at Villain's reflection, "Don't tell me you're trying to kill me and dump by body somewhere out here."

They heard their enemy laugh. "No, that's too cliche." 

Hero adjusted themselves in their seat and felt a dull pain from there. They reached into their pocket, and it was the ring from earlier. They didn't recall placing it in their pocket. Hero took a deep breath and set it on the table, sliding it to Villain's side. 

"Hm?" Villain's attention shifted to their hand on the table as they pulled it away to reveal the ring underneath. "Are you giving this to me now?" Villain mused.

They looked at Villain's expression, a mix of disbelief and a calm delight. "You can have it. I don't want it anymore." 

They quietly picked up the band and lifted it to their eyes. The intricate details hidden in its sharp edges weren't noticeable from a distance, but they've come to appreciate its worth even if Hero deemed it meaningless. Without another word, Villain placed it back in its spot. "You can wear it." 

Hero's head rose just enough to catch them looking their way. They tucked the ring back into their pocket and settled their hand atop Villain's.

~~~

MASTERLIST

messy stuff

That one friend who never takes their own advice 🤡

You were born to shift, staying here is useless.