Dark SBI & Fluffy Oneshots

Don't Be A Liar

A/N

Heyoooooo we have MORE DARK CRIMEBOIS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO

This is really just a writing warm up i did that i decided to post since you guys might like it :D its just for pracitcing fight scenes and villain wilbur sooooooo...probably something people that read any of my other hero/vil/vigilante fics would enjoy

I just kinds skimmed it over while editing so apologies for any mistakes

Anyways, lots of tws for this one, be safe!!: major blood and gore, graphic violence, typical violence per my fics

Hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: when hero tommy and villain wilbur fight, wilbur quickly begins to realize that the hero seems very familiar (identity reveal fic)

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Tommy ducked, barely dodging another strike of Siren's sword. His breath fell in sharp pants, hands curling into tight fists where he clutched his twin daggers as his eyes darted around, watching as the villain readjusted his grip on their blade and prepared to swing again.

Theseus rolled to the side in the nick of time. Pavement snapped and fell in rough pebbles where he previously was, a very pissed-off-looking Siren staring at him as he attempted to yank the sword out from where it was planted in the cement. He let out an enraged grunt as the hero scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping and falling in his haste.

"Give up, Theseus," the man snarled, form flickering between incorporeal and solid in his anger. "If you do, I might make your death quick."

Tommy's breaths fell in sharp pants as he backed away, hands embarrassingly shaking from where he held his daggers.

He should be running, escaping while he could– just as the protocol had said– and calling for backup. He couldn't take on a Syndicate villain by himself as a rookie. He was outmatched by centuries, barely able to pass the hero exam, still a child in his own right despite being eighteen.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

Tommy grit his teeth, willing his hand to go still as the villain finally yanked his sword free. The netherite blade glowed in the dead of night with bright purple enchantments, casting the partly-translucent man in an unmistakable aura of death. It was almost ironic, how a ghost could be so acquainted with dealing out so much misery.

Something he was about to be on the receiving end on.

Oh, Prime. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"The-seus," the villain sang tauntingly, taking slow, calculated steps toward him. Broken rock crunched beneath his steel-toed boots. "C'mon, I know you must be exhausted by now, little hero. Why don't you just put down those kitchen knives of yours and we can have a civilized talk?"

His voice was light, almost like he was attempting to calm him down while so obviously lying. Like he hadn't been seething in rage only seconds before. It almost made Tommy feel sick to have that faux comfort directed towards him; he'd seen the camera footage; he'd seen the autopsies; he'd seen exactly what happened to every poor victim that Siren had directed that croon to.

Siren must have sensed his unease, tilting his head to the side, like he was some sort of interesting bug. "Aww, come on now, there's nothing to be worried about," he grinned, the white of his teeth glinting in sword light. "We just want to chat! What are the heroes up to nowadays when they aren't trying to ruin all of our fucking plans ?"