Of Heroes And Villains

In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.

Fanart by the talented Ian Samson, creator of City of Reality and artist of The Wotch


Shade opened his eyes, waking from dreamless sleep.

He angled his head up, slowly, expecting the punishing blow of a vicious hangover. It never came. He laid his head back on the pillow, blinking in confusion.

His mind was surprisingly clear.

Diane, whispered a voice in his head.

He remembered her healing powers lingering outside her presence the more he’d been exposed to them. Did that cover hangovers? Apparently.

Shade had been exposed a lot.

He raised his hands, turning them over and inspecting them. Not even 48 hours ago he’d beaten his knuckles into a raw bloody mess during training. Now the skin was smooth and beautiful again. He flexed his fingers, admiring how long and slender they were.

Graceful.

Kara had graceful hands. They were dainty and delicate, yet she knew they were also incredibly strong. She’d broken several training dummies in her blind rage.

You have always been weak.

The Captain’s words echoed in her mind. It had hurt to hear them, but she couldn’t really deny the truth of the statement. Shade was one of the weakest heroes in the city.

Shade was also one of the ones criminals feared most.

Skill and dedication had to count for something, didn’t they?

Perhaps she had… overreacted. A little.

She hadn’t been able to finish her training regimen, but she’d gotten really close before collapsing. Most normal people – most men would have given up long before she had. How many men could do a hundred push-ups in a row anyway?

There were many female heroes with low-key powers, or even none at all. And they were good. There was Eagle Eye, the archer, or Cazadora, the other archer, or Quiver, the other other archer, (why these people wouldn’t pick up a gun was beyond Shade) or Ghost Current, the hacker, or Condor, who was one of the most brutal fighters Shade knew.

Kara realized her thoughts were skirting dangerously close to acceptance and he frowned.

He was not okay with what Diane had done to him.

Was she?

No, definitely not.

Kara rolled out of bed, then frowned down at himself, realizing something was missing. He was still wearing his clothes from last night, having just collapsed on his bed without taking them off after teleporting home from the bar.

He was also lacking his customary morning erection.

Kara made a face, not really sure how he felt about that. They had been so fucking annoying, but it was just one more reminder of how much Diane’s power still had a grip on him.

He stumbled out of his bedroom to start the long trek toward the kitchen, only to freeze when he heard snoring. Kara tiptoed to the guest bedroom, which was where the sound was coming from.

The Captain was sprawled on the bed, mouth hanging wide open and making an ungodly racket.

Kara pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d teleported both of them to his home when the Captain had tried flying away, only to promptly crash into a nearby lamppost.

Shade had successfully kept his civilian identity a secret for many years, even from other heroes, and now he’d casually revealed it to two people in the span of three days. Two people that, if someone had told him about it a few months ago, he’d have picked as the kind of people he least wanted in his life.

But then, they also had revealed theirs. The Captain’s name was David. Shade had dumbly replied with Kara. The Captain had given him one of his long looks that, in retrospect, kind of made Shade feel like maybe the Captain was way smarter than he gave him credit for.

But then he’d smiled his big dumb smile, saying that he was pleased to make your acquaintance, M’lady. Shade had punched him. David had laughed.

Kara leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, letting his gaze linger on the man’s sleeping form.

The changes to his – her – body were happening, whether she liked it or not. It would not do to ignore them. Better to be aware of each and every one, so she wouldn’t get blindsided.

He supposed the Captain was… handsome. His fixation on Amethyst notwithstanding, there was a reason he generally had no trouble finding heroines willing to overlook his personality. He was tall and had the muscular build that many male heroes had. Bulkier than Shade’s had been, but not unattractively so.

Kara felt nothing.

Just to make sure she hadn’t entered some sort of asexual twilight zone, Kara started picturing breasts. And curves. And long blond hair. Beautiful red eyes.

Her cock stirred and warmth pooled in her belly.

So she was gay now, apparently.

She was okay with that.

If this whole thing had ended with her falling madly in love with Captain Dudebro, Kara would probably have committed Seppuku.


***


Kara’s mind was far away as she absently prepared breakfast, cutting up lettuce. She’d always favored healthy food to keep her body in shape, though she supposed the Captain might object to being served rabbit food, as her old male friends in High School used to call it. Well, there was a reason Kara had never mourned them drifting apart.

Still, maybe she should prepare him something extra…

Kara flushed as she realized that her thoughts were downright domestic, which was not an adjective she ever wanted to be used on her. He would eat what she deigned to give him and if he didn’t, then she would threaten him with knives until he did. She attacked the remains of the lettuce with downright viciousness, artfully twirling the blade in a way that only came with being secretly trained by ninjas.

Kara didn’t know what to do about her civilian identity. It had taken David all of five minutes to recognize her as Shade, and if she kept working as a hero – which she definitely wanted to do; it was her life – others were bound to discover as well. Especially since she couldn’t avoid teleporting forever.

Everyone would know that Shade had turned into a woman. It’d probably be in headlines. The exact timeframe would be common knowledge, too.

So if Ian Reynolds suddenly transitioned into Kara Reynolds at the same time, what then? Paragon’s citizens were somewhat oblivious, yes, but nobody was dumb enough not to draw the obvious conclusion.

She could make her identity public, as some heroes did.

But it wouldn’t be on her terms.

Kara hated how many choices were taken from her these days.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, sucking her finger. She’d cut herself in her efforts to utterly maul the lettuce. Kara really was a complete fucking mess; she could normally juggle blades in her sleep.

She brushed the small drops of blood away and her eyes widened when the wound closed before her eyes, skin knitting together to form a crust almost instantly. A few minutes later the skin was smooth again.

Kara felt her knees grow weak.


***


“’sup, bro?”

“Morning!”

David winced, covering his ears. “Christ. How are you so fucking perky, Shade? This hangover is killing me.”

Kara smirked triumphantly.

“I have a healing factor!”


***


The Captain was not happy with his hangover, moaning all the way through breakfast.

Kara rather enjoyed being the one to annoy him for a change. Sweet, sweet vengeance.


***


They said goodbye with an awkward yet strangely sincere fistbump.


***


Kara forced herself to walk into the women’s department, swallowing heavily at the selection laid out in front of her. Panties. Bras. Skirts.

She could wear it all now and nobody would judge her for it.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she brushed the silky material of a blue skirt. It was so pretty. It would match her eyes. No, no, no, Kara was male, he didn’t want any of this. He snapped his hand back as if it had been burned and headed toward the sports bras, and then selected only unisex clothing, trying to get this over with as quick as possible.

Kara had to pay in cash, glad that she kept a sizable supply in her safe. All her credit cards said Ian. Yet another problem – how would she even change her paperwork now if she couldn’t prove who she was? Nobody would just hand out a fortune like hers to any stranger who might claim it.

Hell, her board of directors might even use the opportunity to wrench away her majority share. She shivered at that thought.


***


Kara was lying in bed, moonlight casting grotesque shadows on the walls of her bedroom.

She was looking down at her elegant hands again. Well, one of her hands. The hand that was busy tracing the outline of her areola, puckering the sensitive pink skin. Kara loved that sensation, and couldn’t help but go for it again and again.

Her cock was hard and throbbing, but she ignored it. She didn’t really want to touch that thing anymore, even as her breathing quickened and she kept thrusting her hips against the sheets. Instead she squeezed the soft flesh on her chest, kneading and cupping, and fuck, that felt so good.

Diane came to mind, unbidden, as she so often did. Her eyes. Her hair. Her perfectly shaped body, all long legs and supple curves. Her laugh. Her smile.

Diane had made her weak.

Diane had given her a healing factor.

Diane was a villain.

Diane was a healer.

Diane was friends with a monster.

Diane had made friends with a hero who really needed one.

Diane didn’t know how to love.

Diane had said she loved Kara.

Diane.

Kara groaned in misery, squeezing her eyes shut.

There was only one woman Kara had ever loved. He’d been young and new to being a hero, filled with rage and purpose. Dazzling Dawn had been, too. They had been kindred, so very much alike.

He’d loved her so much he’d told her his secret, stammering a shame-faced confession.

There had been revulsion in her eyes. Their relationship had not lasted much longer after that. Kara had been heartbroken, and did his best to hide his perversion from all the women he’d dated since.

Dawn’s powers were sun-based. So were Diane’s, he realized with a start. One had been chaste and virginal. The other had made no secret of her vast experience, seeming proud of it. One had a strict moral code that matched his own. The other had a moral code that resembled an Escher painting.

One was Good.

One was Evil.

And only one had taken Kara in her arms and accepted him in all his fucked-up glory.


***


Kara slept.

She dreamed of the Executioner, impaling Diane on his Katana.

She dreamed of the pure gut-wrenching agony of thinking Diane might be dead.

She dreamed of despair.

You have to ask yourself why the thought of being forever deprived of my lovely company makes you sad.

Kara woke up drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.

She’d forgotten.