The Beast (Part 2)

The Monster crawled out from under the bed. "You saw that, right?" He asked in his low, scratchy voice.

He skittered towards the light in the back of the closet, now dim. He felt along the edges of the wall with his claws and growled, "The portal's already closed."

Rainbow Panda stared at the closet, breath caught in his fuzzy throat. "We need to go after him."

The Monster's lip curled. "We? You want to work together with me?"

Panda sighed, world-weary. "I don't agree with your methods, but..."

"But you admit I was right," The Monster finished, a somber edge to his voice. "I tried to make him more afraid, more cautious. Now he's been taken who-knows-where."

"Oh, just admit you like scaring people," Panda scolded. He adjusted his bow-tie, a habit for whenever he was agitated. "If he wasn't so desperate to prove himself, he wouldn't have ignored his gut."

The Monster shook his head and pulled back the clothing in the closet, looking for a seam or crack left over from the portal. He seemed to be lost in concentration, and didn't reply. "We can return to our squabbling after the boy is safely home," The Monster said finally.

Panda bowed his head. "You're right." He slid off the bed and hobbled over to the closet. He picked up a small keychain flashlight from underneath a pair of discarded socks. "What even was that?"

The Monster shook his head. "I have lived in this house for many years," he said. "I have seen all kinds of imaginary creatures manifest into being, but I have never seen one promise a life reborn in a new world. Much less see a human take that promise at face value."

The teddy bear stopped in his tracks. "Isekai. Portal fantasy," Panda explained, voice quivering. "He's been reading webcomics and watching anime."

The Monster stopped to look over his shoulder. "Web... Comics?" He grunted. "How do humans use webbing in comic-making? That sounds made up."

"Do you not-... Wha--... That's not important!" Panda shrieked. "The boy is in grave danger! A key component to most isekai is being reborn into a fantasy world after dying!"

"But... How do we find him? Where did he go?"

They sat in silence, wheels turning.

Quietly, the teddy bear hobbled to the bookshelf. "We need to read," he said. He shook the bookshelf, causing some of the books to fall off.

The Monster groaned. "You read. I'll keep looking for a way to get through."

"These stories always start with a character feeling powerless and inferior in life," Panda said. "Oftentimes isolated."

"We should like such stories, then," The Monster laughed. He crawled under the bed and returned with a box of crayons.

"I need you to take this seriously. He followed that... That charlatan because he didn't see other options," Panda huffed. "What are you doing with those crayons?"

"Drawing a portal," The Monster said. "I know not of these new webbed comics--"

"Stories," Panda corrected. "Just say stories."

"--but I know of the old tomes, and the old tomes drew doors with crayons," The Monster finished.

He gently pulled out a red crayon between thumb and forefinger, and drew shakily over the moulding, an imperfect straight line up to his height. The line sloped angular, then back down. Finally, a doorknob, jaggedly circular.

"Did it work?" Panda asked, uncertain.

The Monster pushed on the door. It pushed in, ever so gently. The doorknob, like a writhing ball of yarn, floated from the wall.

Panda abandoned the book and padded over to the makeshift door. With bated breath he tried the knob, and sure enough, the door opened.

"O-oh," Panda said. "It... It opened."

He seemed to hesitate at the opening. The Monster tilted his head. "Are you afraid?"

Panda nodded, and grabbed his hand. They jumped into the abyss together.

Down, down they fell.

Swirling around them were strange lights and discordant sounds.

Laughter.

Music.

At the end of it, a large field of grass.

The boy was hunched in the center of the field, shaking.

Panda ran to him. "Wait! I'm here! You don't have to be afraid."

The boy turned, tears in his eyes. He was... Laughing? His smile died seeing the small stuffed bear.

"What are you doing here?" The boy said. Annoyed.

A girl and boy around his age emerged from the long grass.

"What is that thing?" The girl said.

The Monster backed into the shadows of a tree and hissed at the sunlight.

"We came to save you!" Panda said proudly, chest puffed out.

The new boy snickered. "Save him? He just destroyed a lich, and you think he needs you?!"

"Maybe the little bear is going to save him from loneliness," The girl said with a snarky smile. "Oh, wait, he doesn't need you for that, either."

Panda, taken aback, looked back at The Monster helplessly. The Monster shook his head.

"This world is dangerous," Panda tried.

The boy huffed a laugh. "So is my old one. At least in this one I have the power to fix it."

Panda wilted. "You... You can change the old world too," He whispered. "We could change."

"I'm not a child," the boy said. "I'm sick of being treated like one."

"But--" Panda grabbed his arm, and he pushed him back.

"I'm not going back," the boy growled, and pulled out a sword. "Back off or I'll run you through."

Panda backed away, tears in his eyes. Then, stupidly, foolishly, he lunged for a hug. "I'm not letting you--"

The boy was true to his word. The Monster watched from the shadows as the sword pierced through the back of the stuffed toy. Panda went limp.

The boy laughed, high-pitched.

"That was a bit dark," the girl said, a little disapprovingly.

"Well, he did warn him," the new boy said snidely. "Besides, he was probably a spy from the Iridescent Wastes. Why else would he look like a rainbow puke bear?"

The boy discarded the teddy bear, and the three left the field towards a path to the edge of a small town. The Monster rushed to the stuffed toy and clutched him tightly.

"My old friend," The Monster moaned.

Panda did not respond. His little bowtie lay crooked, held on by a string.

The Monster sobbed, because how couldn't he? He was alone in this strange world to save a boy who didn't want saving, and lost the closest he had to a companion.

The sun melted into the horizon and cast long shadows over the grassy fields, and The Monster craved his little hideaway under the cozy bed. He crept to the edge of town, skittering across cobblestone streets. He knew well how to camouflage, and that he did when townspeople passed by with their oil lanterns.

A small tailor's shop sat at the corner of a long strip of shops, and The Monster scuttled over to the rich fabrics and glistening buttons in the window. He clutched the teddy bear tightly, and crawled in through the open door. The tailor, done with his long day, closed the shop door and locked it. He blew out the lamps that lit his workstation and proceeded to bed.

The Monster waited until the coast was clear, and searched around for an appropriate needle and thread. He wasn't adept at stitching, having only seen it as a small Monster many years ago, but gently he poked the stuffing back in and jaggedly stitched closed the hole in Panda's chest. He took a small piece of ribbon and wrapped it around his wrist to keep his small friend secure.

The Monster waited for the tailor to retire to bed. He crawled underneath, holding the stuffed bear aloft. He hoped the Under-the-Bed network worked in webbed comics. He felt around with his clawed hands until they grabbed onto the crook in the wooden floorboards. He smiled, sharp and toothy, as a jagged passage revealed itself to him.

--

Panda woke up in a sweat, which was strange because he had never once sweat before. He shifted in bed, and felt strange, like he was much, much too long. His fur was all on top of his scalp, the rest replaced by soft, smooth flesh. His eyes had lashes, and his little bowtie was replaced by a pajamas.

"What am I?" he asked, and even his voice was different, less squeaky and more... Human?

"We await your orders, my Prince," a soldier announced from the door.

"Prince?" Panda repeated. "Prince of what?"

The soldier looked at him with mild concern and embarrassment. "Apologies, it is early still. I will ask your personal attendant to assist you."

Suddenly a whole team of people were poking and prodding Panda, and he remembered idly how he got passed around and brushed and dressed and tossed about during a birthday party once, and wasn't this sort of similar?

He was brought down to breakfast, and that was a little more out of his depth. He didn't quite have a mouth, or teeth, or any sort of involvement with food before. He pushed the food around with a fork, trying to judge what was and was not supposed to be part of the food. The cloth seemed safe enough, but he got strange looks trying to nibble that. Thankfully the attendants assumed he had no appetite, and he was able to skip the whole thing.

In the drawing room, scary-looking men were peppering him with questions. "I believe we are at a disadvantage trying to flank them from the west side," the General said. "I say we sacrifice the new recruits to get them off-guard, then head them off in the mountains. They'll think they're winning and get sloppy."

"S-sacrifice people?" Panda said. "No! Don't do that!"

The General gave him an odd look. "My Prince, are you well? You yourself proposed the idea."

"W-well, it was a bad idea," Panda said, eyes sparkling with tears. "It sounds like we have a lot of big feelings, but we should use our words when we're hurting. Not hurt other people."

The General crinkled his nose. "My Liege, are you mocking me?"

Panda crumpled into tears. "No! No, no no and I don't get what's going on!" He wailed.

The military commanders and lords looked helplessly at the Royal Advisor, who in turn looked upon the Prince with a mixture of morbid fascination and disgust.

"Perhaps you should retire early, my Prince," the Royal Advisor said.

Panda grimaced. He looked over the map before him and whimpered. He tried his best to be brave, but this was far outside his element. The Royal Advisor gently guided him out the door.

"Perhaps he has... Reverted to a more child-like state as a result of the accident?" one of the Lords in attendance murmured.

"The Prince did take quite a fall," another agreed.

The door shut behind them, and the Royal Advisor guided Panda back to the Prince's room.

"Rest now, sire," the Royal Advisor said. Panda nodded uncertainly. The door closed and he dropped to the floor.

"...Monster?" He called from below the bed.

It was silly to half-expect his old friend to be underneath, but-- apparently not silly enough. From the floorboards appeared the telltale fanged creature, long claws climbing up from a set of endless Nightmare stairs.

"Monster!" Panda cried, and threw his arms around the beast, who flailed and hissed at the unexpected embrace. The Monster slipped out of his grasp and fled to a far corner, wild-eyed and heaving. The teddy bear slipped from the ribbon and fell to the floor.

"Who are you," The Monster said, baring fangs, "Who calls upon a wretched creature such as I."

Gently, Panda picked up the teddy bear and tilted his head. "You... You kept me," he said softly. He hugged his old body close. "You do care."

A low, beastly rumble from the back of the beast's throat. The Monster slowly lowered his shoulders, anger and fear replaced by curiosity. "...Panda?" he asked, uncertain, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Monster. I explained isekais to you, right?" Panda explained. "Death in an old world, and rebirth in a new one!"

"But you died in the new world," The Monster said. "Are you trapped here?"

Panda shook his head. "I don't know. What's important is getting the boy to safety. We'll figure the rest out later."

A child goes missing late one night after investigating a light emanating from their closet. The Child's teddy bear and the monster that lives under the bed must put aside their differences and form a truce in order to rescue the child.

The hero lay on the floor curled in on themselves, willing the pain to go away. The creaking and clinking from the other room told them the villain was rooting around in their stuff again.

"Ugh… Villain?" They called.

Silence.

"Villain, I know you're out there."

They groaned and tried to stand. Not a good idea.

"Villain, if you're out there, bring me my meds, will you? They're on the counter?"

A pause in the shuffling. Footsteps.

A pill bottle hit their face.

"Ow!"

The villain retreated.

Silence.

The hero shakily lifted the pills to their lips.

The villain returned with a bag of bread and a bottle of water.

The hero looked up at them questioningly.

"You're not supposed to take that on an empty stomach," the villain said simply.

"Who eats bread from the bag?" The hero grumbled, but they pulled out a piece to nibble on anyway.

"You're lucky it's not poisoned," the villain replied.

"Am I?" The hero groaned.

"Lot of pain, huh?"

"…Yeah."

The villain knelt down in front of them. "Good."

The hero glared up at them. "Any chance of giving me a break today?"

The villain snatched the half-eaten bread and bit into it greedily. "I think you forgot we're enemies."

The hero laid back down. "Yeah, okay."

Uncomfortable silence.

"So, uh, this normal for you?" The villain tried. "You look a little… Not good."

"I'm kicking your butt so hard when these pills kick in," the hero grumbled. "Can you at least get back to looting my house?"

"I mean, I could kidnap you right now," The villain said. "You're at your most vulnerable."

The hero threw the bread at them. "Just because I'm not up to fighting you doesn't mean I'm helpless."

The bag hit the villain's foot. They gave the hero a deadpan stare.

"I'll bite your ankles," the hero tried.

Then the villain kidnapped them, and they went to Urgent Care together.

im not usually big on hero x villain whump but today im thinking of the two hottest roles in them. villain and medic. i want to combine the two

villain's own medic treating them

"doctor's orders"

"i said bed rest"

"you might be a criminal mastermind or whatever but believe me, those sutures do not care"

villain's medic being the only one in a cushy position

"you know medic, if anyone else talked to me like this, they wouldn't have their tongue now" "but i'm not anyone else, am i?"

villain's own medic being their favourite on the team

"they're the most useful"

"all of you other idiots are practically useless"

villain being their own medic because i guess the evil budget only allowed for evil henchmen

the enemy medic begrudgingly treating villain

"i'm only doing this because i have principles"

"i'm under oath"

"suffering is suffering, and i just can't bear to watch it"

the enemy medic sabotaging villain's recovery

"i've never wanted to leave anyone to suffer before... that changed today"

"you know what's in this syringe? no? good"

evil medic moments?? so good. top tier. both a villain and a medic hold so much power and im just ahdhfj feral for them

Oh goodness, I'm here for these vibes and would love a part 2.

Prompt #82

By @writingpromptsworld

The villain swore they could smell the hero's very prominent cologne in the dark office, and they had to resist the urge and not take every little thing away with them.

But no, they were on a mission. And they needed to focus, or else the supervillain would-

"You're the recruit, aren't you?" Someone spoke up, the voice was deep and smooth. They sounded amused.

The vilian froze, in the process of sniffing the hero's coat that hung on the chair behind their desk. They look up, alerted. And take out their gun. The person walked closer, and their face glowed under the moonlight. The village's eyes widened when they saw who it was.

The hero grinned. "Relax. I'm in no mood to fight."

The villain’s heart beat wildly in their chest. They didn't lower the gun, scared and in awe at the same time. The hero was even more good-looking in person as if that was possible. They gulped, and when the hero didn't come closer, they lowered the gun slowly.

The hero's grin only broadened. "Care to tell me why you were sniffing around my coat?" The villain's face immediately went scarlet, their heart dropping in their stomach. '

"Uhh…" They started. "I was searching…for potential information about your- next mission?" They really hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but it did anyway and they cursed under their breath.

"And what is this crucial information you would find in there?" The hero played along, cocking their head to the side.

The villain opened their mouth and closed it, not sure how to tell the hero they were…curious. Well, curious is putting it lightly, they were obsessed, really. "Good question." They said, a second later.

The hero looked more entertained by the minute. They took a few more steps that brought them right in front of the villain, meeting their eyes. The hero's eyes were gray, like the moon, and glowing with mirth.

The villain checked out the hero before they could stop themself, their mouth drying at the sight.

The hero chuckled, "You're terrible at keeping a blank face. A really bad quality for a vilian if I say so myself."

Okay. That's it. Everything they had read about the hero was wrong. The hero wasn't stoic and ruthless as listed in their 'bio', they were something worse: flirty and dangerously good-looking.

CW: implied abuse, wrongful imprisonment

It had been five years.

Five years since Villain heard that laugh.

Their blood ran cold. Their heart pounded in their chest. Too afraid to turn their head. With shaking hands, they pulled out their phone and angled the camera to view behind them.

It was them. Oh God, it was them. Sitting with their friends at a table, like everything was normal. Like they were normal.

Every nerve was in high alert. Throat constricted. Villain left cash on the table and rushed to leave--

THUD.

Villain fell back. Phone slid across the floor.

"Oh my god, I am so so so sorry," the person who ran into them babbled. They held out a hand to help them up. "I didn't even see you-- Are you okay, are you hurt? Let me help you up."

Villain glanced up at the friendly voice. Hero's Sidekick.

Villain quickly ducked away and ignored the hand, instead opting to crawl towards their phone and grab it before--

"Oh, is this yours? Here."

Those boots. That voice.

Villain couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Hero crouched face-to-face with them. Holding their phone. Rooted on the spot.

"... Villain?!" A flurry of emotions crossed Hero's face. "You're-- you're alive?!"

Villain bolted. Hero screamed for them to come back. Past the parking lot, past the tree line, into the thick of the forest. Not the best place to cut through to get home, nor the fastest, but an easy way to shake someone off.

They didn't stop running until their legs gave out. Lungs stung with the exertion. They upchucked everything from the bar.

Villain had escaped them. They had faked their death so perfectly. Vanished without a trace, all away across the continent. Hero wasn't supposed to ever find them. Yet here they were.

Villain leaned against a tree to stand up shakily. They needed to get home, grab their cash and whatever they could carry, and leave.

They arrived at their door covered with leaves and dirt. No time to shower.

First thing to do was to grab the money. They crossed the room halfway before they stopped. Something was off. Something was wrong, but they couldn't place what.

Peppermint. They never had peppermint in their house. Hero ruined it for them. Yet they smelled it now.

They turned to leave too late.

Hero was there, blocking the front door.

"You left your phone," Hero said, holding it up.

Villain backed away. "Let me go," they pleaded. "Let me go, please."

The back of their legs hit a coffee table, and they fell backward. The table cracked and collapsed. Hero stood over them.

"Why would I do that?" Hero said. They pressed onto the villain's chest with their boot. "You had me fooled, I'll give you that. Look at the life you've made for yourself here. Nice little apartment. Friends."

They clicked cuffs over Villain's wrists.

"You and I both know your only home is behind bars," Hero whispered in their ear.

"Please..." Villain withered. "Please take me to the proper channels. Please take me to prison."

Hero patted their cheek. "You wouldn't last five minutes in prison, my pet. I built the basement solely to keep you safe and out of trouble."

Villain shook. They tried to keep down the building panic attack and couldn't. They were sobbing, gasping for breath.

"I missed you, " Hero said, caressing the side of their cheek. "You're as perfect as I remember."

They carried Villain into the back of the car.

"Wow. You caught a bad guy on vacation?" Sidekick said.

Villain hung their head.

Hero startled. "Sidekick? When did you get here?"

"I followed you in case you needed backup. You left in such a hurry."

"I don't need your help," Hero said hurriedly. "This is a... Special case."

"It's not trouble," Sidekick said with a smile. "What'd they do, anyway?"

Hero's eyes darkened. "I'm sorry, Sidekick, but that information's classified. Please forget you saw this."

Villain peeked at Sidekick from the corner of their eye.

Sidekick glanced back. If Villain didn't know any better, they would say they looked worried.

"Okay," Sidekick said. "We're still driving back together, though, aren't we?"

Hero groaned. "I thought you were driving back with the others."

"No, they're taking a detour and we need to get back."

Hero relented, and for a while they drove in silence. Sidekick kept checking the back seat.

They reached a rest stop. While Hero was in the restroom, Sidekick ran to the back door.

"Quick. Here's some cash," Sidekick said. "Get out of here before Hero comes back."

"Why--" Villain tried to say.

"I recognize you. You were Hero's first sidekick." Sidekick looked away, expression pained. "I... I know your story. And I believe you. I know why you did it."

"...Thank you," Villain whispered.

"Get out. Now. That truck's leaving."

Villain nodded, then ran for the truck that was pulling away.

Hero screamed. "No, no, they're GETTING AWAY! STOP!!!"

Sidekick smiled and waved sadly as Villain watched them fade into the distance.

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

The pact was signed between the King and the Fairy Queen, 1,000 years of prosperity for his kingdom, in exchange for his yet-to-be-conceived first born. The Fairy Queen however did not expect the king to slit his own throat and die on the spot seconds later.

🌟👽💫

“I don’t know how to reconcile that my favorite piece of media was made by someone awful.” Because they’re a shitty person who made something good. It’s not that rare of a phenomenon. Shitty people make good things everyday. A piece of art being made by a terrible person does not make its effect null and void and making good art does not redeem a terrible person. People who are irredeemably nasty can say something true and honest on occasion. To reevaluate a work after finding out more about the artist’s horrendous biases and actions and still find things that are honest and true even when consuming it through a critical lens, that is a beautiful thing. If the artist’s actions and words completely destroy it for you and distort the meaning you once found, it’s okay to feel a sense of mourning and loss at that.

This is not to say that you should continue to lavish social and financial capital on the artist because you enjoy their art but to say that enjoying art made by horrible people does not mean you are in some way unclean.

Hey! I love your writing so much. I think I read almost all of your stories.

I was wondering if you could write an angst to comfort story with a henchman who made a minor mistake and is absolutely freaking out because their previous boss didn’t allow for mistakes and the Supervillain and current leader would comfort them?

I think it would be so cute!

Bonus point if the henchman is ruthless in fights and normally very stoic and cold.

I hope you have a nice and once again, I love your writing ❤️

A Misplacement

Henchman braced as Supervillain swept into the room, their grandiose presence seeming to bring everyone in the office into a more upright posture. The henchman stood impassively with their hands clasped and head slightly bowed, awaiting any orders that might be heading their way after the rather dramatic entrance.

“Henchman. Grab Hero’s file for me, will you?”

Henchman knew a command when they heard one, just as they had been prepared for.

“Yes, sir.”

Supervillain brushed by, still speaking as they walked.

“You can stop with that ‘sir’ nonsense. I respect the dedication, but you could really stand to lighten up a bit. It’s Supervillain,” their boss called, rounding the corner into their private office before Henchman had a chance to retort.

It would take more than that to trip Henchman up. They knew the rules, and ‘sir’ was just the tip of the iceberg.

Fight well, follow orders, and keep their head down. That’s all Henchman knew how to had to do. The trap of casualness was not one they would be falling into anytime soon.

They walked briskly to a cabinet against the wall and jingled a small set of keys from their pocket. They found the correct one almost automatically and went straight for the initials they knew Hero would be filed under. They dug past a few folders, brow creasing as they passed the suspected location. Semi-frantically, Henchman pulled out two other drawers, digging through those too to no avail.

Henchman froze. Hero’s file. It was gone.

Numbly, their gaze shifted across the room to the shredder that they had used yesterday to purge some older files at the request of their supervisor. Their hand shook as they closed the drawer of the filing cabinet.

Follow orders, until they can’t. Then it becomes, accept what comes next.

Blankly, they stepped towards their superior’s office. They paused at the door, shoving all their thoughts down into a tiny box they sealed shut with the mental equivalent of an excessive amount of duct-tape.

They could face the punishment. They always could.

The door opened with a click and Henchman allowed their jelly-filled legs to carry them into the center of the room, stopping there and reassuming the stiff posture and clasped hands that they reserved solely for moments spent in the presence of their boss.

“You can just set it on the desk,” Supervillain voiced dismissively, not looking up from the task at hand, which seemed to be signing some papers spread out in front of them. When no file placed itself on their desk, Supervillain rested their pen and questioned, “Is there something else?”

When they received no response, the supervillain lifted their head and immediately took notice of their employee’s current state.

“Henchman, are you alright?”

Supervillain had risen from their large leather arm chair and was now heading towards their subordinate.

“You just look a little pale. Come, sit down will you?”

They grabbed Henchman by the shoulders and led them to sit down in the chair that they had just occupied.

They hadn’t so much as touched the cushion before the words started to spill out of their mouth, lacking the usual curtness Supervillain had grown used to during Henchman’s lengthy employment.

“The file. I’m sorry. I must have misplaced it yesterday with some old papers. It’s not an excuse,” they added hurriedly. “I know and I understand that you need to-“

Their boss shot observant eyes to Henchman’s hands, which they had unknowingly started wringing in their lap.

“Is that what this is about? The file?” Supervillain questioned incredulously.

Their stoic, ruthless fighter who had never been anything but absolutely dependable on the battlefield was now ashy as a ghost and squirming after being asked to deliver a file.

“I messed up. I know the consequences-” Henchman explained almost robotically before their boss cut them off.

“Consequences? Henchman, we can just print another one. They’re saved in the cloud. It’s no big deal. It takes, like, two minutes. I know the printer is slow but it’s certainly not worth crying over.”

Crying? Henchman would never-

Oh. There was liquid trailing down their cheek now, running from the corner of their eye to the bottom of their jaw.

Oh no. Their boss would never forgive them for this.

Their boss, who was-

Henchman braced for sharpness, but Supervillain met them with nothing but soothing words.

“Breathe, Henchman. Breathe.”

Supervillain still had them by the shoulders, but now they were in front of them, kneeling and modeling deep breaths with their whole body and maintaining eye contact with a completely frozen Henchman.

“Are you breathing? I don’t hear anything.” Supervillain shook them gently and their employee finally took one big breath in without breaking the rigid professional composure they were still so desperately clinging to.

“That’s it.” Supervillain encouraged, signaling them to release the breath with an exaggerated deep sigh through slightly pursed lips. “You’re doing so well.”

Henchman’s facade broke with a loud, hiccuping sob.

At that, Supervillain wasted no time smothering them with a tight hug, holding on for long enough that Henchman was able to stop hyperventilating and start matching the pace of the lungs pressed up against them.

Only when Henchman’s face started to burn hot with embarrassment from their situation did their superior finally pull away, but only far enough to look them in the eye as they spoke.

“You transferred from Villain’s office, correct?”

Henchman nodded in confirmation, sniffling quietly and averting their eyes.

“Ah, I see.”

Supervillain went right back into the embrace and continued it for as long as Henchman let them.

A few tissues and a short talk on acceptable treatment of workers later, Supervillain eventually exited their personal office, entering the greater office area and addressing the first worker that they encountered.

“Other Henchman, pull Villain’s file please. Send me the address.”

Other Henchman nodded, immediately sliding their chair over to the nearest filing cabinet and beginning to thumb through the labels in the drawer.

“Got it,” Other Henchman signaled by waving a file in the air, already typing out a message on their computer.

“I think it’s time I pay someone a visit,” Supervillain declared as they sauntered out the doors, their phone dinging with what was undoubtedly the location of their newest nemesis.

Chips🥔