Prompt

Prompt 224

"What's your favourite animal?"

"Penguins." The hero responded automatically. They had stopped pulling against the ropes an hour ago. "Why are you asking me all these questions again?"

"Um..." The villain's eyes flicked to the description of the questionnaire promising a '90% chance of falling in love upon completion by both parties.' "... for evil purposes."

Prompt #161

"What do you want, Hero?"

Their eyes glittered with starlight and they smiled. "The moon."

Villain nodded, turning their head and staring at the moon with squinted eyes. Before they could say anything more, Hero spoke up again.

"It's a joke, it's a joke. Please don't start trying to devise a plan to literally take the moon. We don't need another space race, alright?"

History so far

Me once again asking you for one more continuation of the same story ahaha :) If you don't mind could you please write one more part for the villain prince and the hero baker?

This was more complicated than it needed to be. The baker made it more complicated than it needed to be. Though, the prince supposed, this was more the hero than the baker, he was just used to seeing a timid baker. He almost missed the baker’s timidness, and would give anything to get it back.

Anything might be a stretch, only because the prince knew how to find the hero, no help would be needed, nothing would have to be sacrificed.

It was easy to track them, easy to buy the brooch back, easy to listen who had sold it for what price, and easy to narrow down where the seller would go next.

The only inn that far in the outskirts of the kingdom, yet just close enough to hear the words and rumors of traders leaving the kingdom. Hero had made fast progress in a manner of days, while the baker blended in with the crowd.

The prince knew he was right, he could almost feel it, the hero was as good as his.

That didn’t stop any of the obstacles from trying to prevent the prince from reclaiming his newest charge.

There was the matter of his father, and how much trust the old man had in him. Officially, the prince was hunting with his group. His group was sent to a summer palace, a summer palace ‘Villain’ would have to target, just in case any of his group got a bit mouthy.

Going incognito while being a member of the royal family was proving difficult. The crown’s only heir was well recognized, to the point where the trail of people he was following would jump at his every word.

He became more worried about loose lips the longer he looked at the bumbling inn-keeper.

“The prince.” She had gasped, dropping the tray to the ground. “Your highness.” She followed suit with the tray, dropping into a low curtsy.

That set off an array of chattering, something he hoped to avoid, especially if the hero was around, especially if they now knew he was here.

Regardless, he bowed, mustering his most kingly smile.

“One can only dream of such hospitality, my lady.”

She blushed at that, rising from her position, forgetting about the fallen tray, and whatever patron she planned on giving it to.

“How can I help you, your highness? Would you be needing a room?”

The prince didn’t scoff, but he was close. Here? A room here? He was almost certain the hero’s cell was nicer than this place.

“No, my lady, that won’t be necessary. I’m afraid my friend and I were separated during our touring of the kingdom, and was hoping to find them here.” The lie came easily.

“Of course, my prince. What might their name be?” She asked, scurrying behind the counter to reach for a large ledger.

A smile bloomed across the prince’s face. He didn’t suspect the baker had much experience with being on the run, probably even used their real name.

“(Baker’s name).”

After a moment of trailing her finger across the pages, the inn-keeper looked up. “Ah, yes! Right here, room eight. Shall I fetch them for you?”

“No!”

The inn-keeper’s bright face dimmed, taken aback by the prince’s outburst.

He managed to collect himself in less than a second.

“Forgive me, my lady.” He threw in a bashful smile. “I only wish to surprise them after their days of loneliness.”

Her bright face returned. “Of course, your highness! Would you be needing a key?”

“If you would please, my lady.”

She handed it to him with a grin and a hardly stifled giggle.

“Thank you for your kindness, my lady.”

Gullible.

Gullibility was expected, though. How could one manage an argument against a prince?

He tried to quiet his boots, he tried only of focusing on the hero’s face, the baker’s face.

The prince did not focus on how he missed this, the chase, the inevitable draw. He did not focus on how it’s better for the hero to stay locked away. He did not focus on his father. He would not.

But it was all he could do to focus on the hero’s sleeping form. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

The prince cursed himself for that. He was meant to be a brilliant strategist, and yet, he didn’t take this into possibility.

Walking out with the hero in his arms would be suspicious, prince or not. The best course of action would be to awaken the hero, tell them that if a prince couldn’t ruin the lives of everyone here, a villain could, and take the hero away without much of a struggle.

But he didn’t want to. Why would he want to?

“Damn.” The prince cursed softly. “Damn you and your games.”

In truth, he knew the hero wasn’t playing games, not like the prince was. The hero was simply trying to hold themself and the kingdom up, especially against the siege of the villain.

And the prince was trying to be greater than any of the kings and queens before him, greater than his father, greater than the dangers that lurked with the hero’s second job. If this meant a few lives were lost, so be it. If buildings were burned, so be it. It would all burn, eventually, and it would all rise higher than before.

But pesky heroes didn’t understand that. And overbearing kings don’t understand the complexity of heroes.

The prince buried his face in his hands. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go

Something cold on his neck had him much more grounded.

“Don’t say a word, little prince.” Said a voice that now lacked a cheery disposition. “Royalty or not, you don’t get to harm them.”

“That was never my intention.”

“Was it not?” Another voice asked, the hero now sitting up without a hint of tiredness. “Or did you just want to use me for some twisted game because of your own boredom?”

“A trick.” The prince would’ve laughed if there weren’t a knife to his throat. “Clever and pesky.”

“An awful combination.” The hero finished for him. “Here’s how this is going to go-”

“You don’t-” the prince tried to interrupt, only for the inn-keeper to yank him farther back with the knife. “You wouldn’t.”

“They wouldn’t.” The inn-keeper agreed. “I, on the other hand, wouldn’t hesitate. I always told them they were a tad too soft to be a hero.”

“Besides the point.” The hero focused them back on track. “You’re going to leave me alone, your highness. And whatever you’re hiding, you’re going to tell us, now.”

Us? Them and the inn-keeper?

“Why do you assume I’m hiding something?” The prince didn’t let his emotions bubble to the surface, as tempting as it was.

“What was it he said, baker?” The inn-keeper asked, the grin evident in her voice. She was enjoying this a little too much. “‘He’s not the only royal who has a problem with heroes’?”

“Something like that.”

The prince grit his teeth. Not how it was meant to go.

He slammed his foot onto the inn-keeper’s, and when he felt her try to push the knife down, he grabbed onto the arm holding the knife, and twisted her around.

“I wouldn’t hesitate either.” The prince seethed, the knife feeling unfamiliar and heavy in his hand. “Pesky hero, this is how it’s going to go-”

“Is it? Two against one, even if she’s incapacitated.” The hero winked at the inn-keeper.

It was getting harder for the prince to keep his cool.

“I can harm her, or we can walk away. The two of us. You’d live comfortably, and out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” The inn-keeper hissed. “From you.”

Ah, so she knew. That made it problematic.

The prince knew what he must do, and didn’t bother masking the grimace. “My way, the kingdom’s way, who can keep track? Regardless, you, my lady, are an obstacle.”

As soon as the knife came a centimeter closer to her, the hero pounced.

When the blade met skin, the hero met the villain, a strong and graceful arm swinging around the villain’s neck, the other pulling back the villain’s arm. An equally strong and graceful leg kicked the inn-keeper forward.

Then they fought, like heroes and villains often did.

The inn-keeper grasped at her neck, relieved to find herself still breathing, still alive, and able to help.

Despite something warm dripping down her neck, she joined in, scraping and clawing at the villain with unkempt ferocity.

The inn-keeper might have made a better hero, a more straightforward hero, but her vicious streak was brutal.

A prince eventually found himself on the floor, a baker on top of him.

“Tell me!” The baker demanded, carefully investigating the pinned down prince. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, pesky thing.”

“It is,” the baker gritted, their grip on the prince beginning to shake. “when you imprison me.”

“Imprisonment is a strong word, a correct word, but still-”

The hero punched the villain, and a baker began to shake, while a prince only smiled in appreciation.

“I’m not trying to fight you.” He claimed, eyes drifting to the hero’s hands.

There were bandages. Presumably the cuts made from the hero breaking and jumping from the window.

“Oh, that’s rich. Not trying to fight the one person who’s been-”

“Inn-keeper.” The hero stopped her before moving onto the prince. “You know what an indirect attack is?”

And the prince, who had seen battles, did. The villain, however, struggled with this.

“You don’t harm me directly. You go after people I care about, places I care about.”

They were right. The question was if it was an attack from the prince or the villain, as he had a habit of slipping into both roles unknowingly.

“True enough.” The prince conceded. “But there’s no other way. I need you gone, you won’t go.”

“Yet you won’t kill me.”

“Baker!” The inn-keeper exclaimed.

“I know what I’m doing.”

The prince took another glance at the hero’s hands. “Most definitely you do. No. I won’t kill you. I would never kill you.”

“You want a trophy, then?”

“No. I have no need for those.”

The hero didn’t glance back to speak. “You should go, inn-keeper, make sure your patrons are alright.”

“Baker, I can’t leave you, he’s manipulating you, and-”

“No he’s not.” The hero said, still focused on the prince beneath them. “He can’t. Please, inn-keeper. Whatever happens in here will be for the good of the kingdom.”

With sly eyes, the inn-keeper focused on the prince and the baker, some sudden realization hitting her.

She snatched the discarded knife off the floor before she left.

Then a baker and a prince were alone.

“Do you plan on staying there the whole time, or are we going to be able to talk civilly?” The prince’s tone was joking, his face anything but.

“You are about as civil as a wild animal.”

“That’s not right. I have excellent manners and social poise.”

The hero scoffed, releasing the hold they had on the prince before standing.

“Plead your case, your highness.”

“You should come back with me, quickly, quietly.”

The hero snorted. “Horrible argument. Why should I?”

“I could threaten you all day long. Hurt the inn-keeper, destroy your bakery, have the kingdom burn, but none of it would work. You ran, knowing well enough that I could have destroyed your bakery.”

The hero glared, trying desperately to ignore the growing pit inside their stomach.

“Killing the inn-keeper would do nothing. I would have nothing motivating you after the fact.”

“Don’t try it again. You’d have better luck killing me.”

The prince rolled his eyes at the melodramatics.“So, Hero, Baker, whatever title you prefer. This isn’t me threatening, manipulating, indirectly attacking, this is me asking you to come with me. To stay out of the way, please.”

“Hm. You still haven’t given me any reason to. I don’t enjoy your company. I don’t like villainy. I prefer free range.”

“Most people do, but you do not have the opportunity to be most people.”

“Why?” The hero demanded. “You really believe you’re doing the best for your people, why is this the best?”

Standing in an inn room, a prince spoke, and a hero listened.

Behold: the greatest ongoing crossover saga of all time.

“Don’t even think about telling me what to do.” Hero said bitterly, pulling on their mask. “I can do what I want, even if it means saving others in exchange for my life.”

Villain held onto Hero’s hand, not letting go anytime soon. “And you’re just going to leave me here?! Let me come with you!” They pleaded with them. “If you should die, let me die with you!”

“Get off me.”

“No.”

“I said— Get off me!” Hero kicked them away, regretting it almost instantly. “! Wait... I didn’t mean to!”

Villain slowly got to their feet and smiled. “Please, let me come with you.”

Reluctantly, Hero let them.

// hello let me feed all of you with some good ol’ sadness ig //

Daniella Gilboa is back home

😎 #kipo #kipoandtheageofwonderbeasts #netflix #fanart #drawing #cool #moon #sunglasses #procreate #drawingtablet #cartoon https://www.instagram.com/p/CMkYTKnpTHF/?igshid=15qpbhypx6dvc

I dont really...have the emojis so I'll just list em...post nightmare cuddles, a warm hug, fluffy blanket, and bedtime story....villain caretaker and whumpee hero...sorry if I used the whump term wrong just first time trying to use it lmao

Warnings: referring to a person as a "creature" but that is all

~

"You know what? I am done with this. C'mere." Villain suddenly grabbed the shaking hero and pulled them closer to their chest.

"What are you-"

"Shh," the Villain soothed and wrapped their arms tighter around the hero. They murmured soft words without any real meaning, but Hero relished in the comfort. The warmth and the care that Villain gave them- it made their heart flutter and their heart pump warm blood throughout their veins.

Until reality struck. They were with the villain. A creature of pure evil and menace, just waiting to take the perfect opportunity to twist this newfound trust and hurt them.

So Hero jerked away, but Villain hands were linked together. They blocked any hope or chance of escape with merciless living shackles.

Villain, who was slightly taller than Hero, rested their chin against the other's head. Hero dug their nose into Villain's neck instinctively. Comfort felt good, especially after...

Hero shuddered, remembering their previous vision of the city being destroyed... it was horrific.

Hero suddenly felt themselves drop and in an instant they were coated with a thick faux fur blanket with Villain tucked in next to them.

"Okay... what is this?" Villain said. Just as quickly as they laid Hero and themself in bed, they reached over and revealed a book.

"A book?" Hero guessed somewhat sarcastically. But it came out squeaky and quiet, choked and heavy.

"The BFG by Roald Dahl," Villain sighed as they settled back down next to Hero. The hero cuddled right next to their enemy, not caring anymore that they could kill them in a heartbeat.

Villain flipped the book open to right where Hero dog-eared it and began to read, "The great yellow wasteland lay dim and milky in the moonlight as the Big Friendly Giant went galloping across it. Sophie, still wearing only her nightie, was reclining comfortably in a crevice of the BFG's right ear-"

Villain swooped an arm around Hero's shoulder and brought them closer before continuing with the paragraph, "She was actually in the outer rim of the ear, near the top, where the edge of the ear folds over, and this folding-over bit made sort of a roof over her and gave her wonderful protection against the rushing wind. What is more-"

Villain was cut off by Hero resting their own arm across Villain's muscular chest. Villain smiled to themself and resumed reading.

After a while, Hero's head gently became more heavy in weight as they fell alseep soothed by the villain's deep rambling. The villain set the book on the nightstand and curled up next to them.

Hero tensed up, but melted right back into the embrace. Villain watched over them for a while, studying the delicate features of their face. The slightly crooked nose and the prominent jawline that shifted ever so slightly. The thick, bushy eyebrows that were so relaxed and the long lashes that brushed lightly under their eye to complet the placid expression on their face. Villain grinned and rested their own head against the pillow, falling alseep to the slow breathing of their enemy.

Hallo! May I ask for a snippet of fluff where either Villain or Hero (or both) are using their superpowers for comfort?

“Hero, you need to stop,” Villain demanded, their hand gripping the front door in order to keep it open. “You're going to end up hurting yourself if you keep this up.”

Hero, flushed in the face, wrapped up in layers of blankets and dressing gowns, had tried to keep the door sealed shut, but Villain was able to push past their futile attempts easy enough. That was enough to make them worry.

“I told you to stop coming to my house,” Hero hissed quietly, their nose stuffed. “People are going to figure my identity out if you keep this up. How did you even know where I live?”

Villain raised a brow, and tapped their temple with their finger. “Made you tell me.”

Hero groaned in response, making another attempt to close the door in their face. Villain, with a frown, simply stepped inside, and closed the door shut behind them, gently nudging Hero forward.

“Come on.”

“Get out of my house!”

“Hero, you're sick,” they pressed, their voice taking a stern tone. “And you keep going out to work. Do you not understand how simply stupid that is? You need to rest.”

Hero's brows wrinkled in protest, drawing the blanket tighter around their shoulders, lingering back against the door. “I can't take time off, you know that. If I do, people are going to get hurt.”

Villain sucked in a quiet breath, their expression softening. That was definitely the Hero Program talking. It irked them, knowing they actually taught them things like this — working themselves down to the very last bone?

It was simply preposterous.

Wordlessly, Villain took care of Hero for the evening. They brewed them tea, cooked them food, lovingly locked the front door so they wouldn't have any ideas about leaving. The dark circles under Hero's eyes were more prominent today.

Settling across the couch with Hero resting on their chest, Villain couldn't help but gaze upon their worn down face, noting how hollow their cheeks looked. Were they even eating?

“I'm tired.”

Villain blinked back into reality.

“I can't get to sleep. I haven't slept properly for three weeks,” Hero admitted quietly. Villain slowly rubbed their shoulders.

“Why didn't you tell me?” They gently scolded. “You know I can help you with that.”

Hero shifted slightly in Villain's gentle hold. They only gave a weak shrug in response, and they could only sigh. Their hand raked through their locks of hair, pushing some out of the way of their face.

“Look at me.”

Hero grimaced, but they did as they were told. They knew what would happen if they did, but that didn't seem to stop them. Their eyes met, and Villain smiled softly.

“Rest.”

Hero's eyes fluttered, and they immediately sunk forward, slipping off into a peaceful slumber. Villain pressed a soft kiss on their forehead, and drew them further into their arms.

“My, what are you doing to me, Hero?”