Work Text:
Choose. Between the world, or her.
The hero, in the midst of his clash against the frightfully twisted sense of love crumpled into a villain. One that holds the destiny of his one dewy soft leaf on an early Tuesday morning where the buggy critters float by.
And the ending of thousands— no, billions of other soulful leaves branching from their respective roots.
"Please," a pleading word rushing past his trembling lips.
"Don't do this," he spoke with a tone that insisted for his torture and ruin if it meant that fate would leave the two alone.
Where would mercy lie in the body of a man far too deep in the ridges of his infected brain, I wonder. An average human being capable of summoning some grimfully dark, coily thoughts to form the one staring down at the keeled over hero.
"No. You are to choose," firmly stated by the villain. Glitchy three dimensional lights in one hand crystallized as a perfect oval model of the earth. While the other appendage rests along her fleshed spine.
"Her, or the world."
Guilt plagues his mind, the unruly symptoms including thoughts on how he should never have loved her in the first place. A mistake on his part that cost the world later. Wishing this later was not today.
"Darling, I—" As a hero, he must choose the world he had grown up to shield from this kind of moral depravity. The destruction it sends, gift wrapped and complete with a note of fire would cause hell.
Hell like the consequences one or many would suffer from this one decision.
"..I choose the w— w.."
"I—.."
"I.."
Her salty teardrops to his wounded heart. Pearly white shine of those two drowning eyes with overflowing emotions in a physical form. Threatening the crumbling resolve he built to halt the world's demise, he could barely bring in air to his lungs.
"Darling, I.." for the times how much, maybe like the atoms in the sky has he said that. A prayer too embarrassed to be continued, even if he had spoken to a deity that shall tell no soul.
Breathe in, breathe out.
"Choose for me please, darling."
Frowning as visibly as a frosty glass window, the villain turns to her lovely red curls. Vision staring into the depths below the keratin, slicing through the layers of muscle and sinew, slipping through the tiny empty spaces of her cranium before finally reaching the squiggly pink lines. Intruding to see what she will react with.
"Tell me. You, or the world?"
He hopes it was the world. He hopes he could poke her egoistical complex to rise up and answer with the globe in his hand. Then he could claim her as his new and only world, since the hero was nothing but a pathetic wasteful saviour in his eyes. Oh, he knew it was the world. So spiteful were the thoughts he found when looking into her mind.
Soles tapping against the hovering platform as she descends. Down to the living flesh she loved, closing the distance between her and the world's hero as small as their emotional distance together. Small enough to be on her knees, rough fingerpads caressing her glistening skin gently.
"I'm so sorry for putting you in this position, darling.."
Imagine the broken pieces of a vase. Ceramic, brass, steel. Each the size of a tiny granule you'll find sticking to your shoes at the beach. Insert it in his hoarse voice.
"I shouldn't have gotten you into this," his fault for loving her. For making her a vulnerability that risks so much.
Although it was that same vulnerability that kept him contemplating his choices better. Otherwise, it would've ended two paragraphs into a storybook if this were to be made as one.
"It's alright. You're a hero, sweetheart. A hero for the world," she mumbles through their unshed tears.