Hello. I heard you wanted ideas for a snippet so here I am.
Why not write about a supervillain inviting the hero to a dinner to a fancy restaurant. The hero would accept and he would be either dumbfounded or happy to be treated well (or any feeling you would like but something strangely positive). The supervillain would be a gentleman, the hero would be able to eat what he truly wants and not what is cheaper (broke hero perhaps?)…
I feel like I’ve been super specific already so I hope you enjoyed the prompt and if you pick this prompt, hopefully you’ll have a good time writing it.
Dinner with the Villain
This was so fancy to write lol, I love how it was more specific. I hope this is what you had in mind.
Warnings: Poor living conditions
The hero stood outside the restaurant, staring up at the glowing sign with a mix of disbelief and apprehension. Le Clair de Lune was the kind of place they’d only ever seen in movies—crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, waiters in tailored suits. Not exactly the kind of spot you’d expect to be invited to by your arch-nemesis.
But here they were, clutching the embossed invitation in their hand, the words “Join me for dinner. 8 PM sharp. No capes.” scrawled in the villain’s elegant handwriting. They’d almost thrown it away, convinced it was some kind of trap. But curiosity—and the gnawing hunger that came with living on instant noodles—had won out.
The moment they stepped inside, a waiter greeted them with a polite smile. “Ah, you must be our guest of honor. Right this way.”
The hero followed, their boots squeaking awkwardly on the polished floor. They felt out of place in their patched-up jacket and scuffed jeans, but the staff didn’t seem to notice. Or if they did, they were too professional to comment.
The villain was already seated at a table near the back, dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than the hero’s entire apartment. They looked up as the hero approached, a smirk playing on their lips.
“You came,” the villain said, their voice smooth and amused. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Yeah, well,” the hero muttered, sliding into the chair across from them. “Free food is free food.”
The villain chuckled, gesturing to the menu. “Order whatever you like. My treat.”
The hero hesitated, their eyes scanning the menu. The prices were astronomical, the kind of numbers that made their stomach twist. But the villain had said whatever you like, and the hero wasn’t about to pass up the chance to eat something that didn’t come out of a microwave.
They ordered the most expensive steak on the menu, along with a side of truffle fries and a dessert they couldn’t even pronounce. The villain raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, simply sipping their wine as the waiter took the order.
“So,” the hero said once they were alone, “what’s the catch?”
The villain tilted their head, feigning innocence. “Catch?”
“Yeah. You don’t just invite me to a fancy dinner for no reason. What’s your angle?”
The villain leaned back in their chair, their smirk widening. “Can’t a villain simply enjoy the company of their favorite adversary?”
The hero snorted. “Favorite adversary? You tried to blow up my apartment last week.”
“And yet, here you are,” the villain said, gesturing to the table. “Eating my food, drinking my wine. Clearly, you’ve forgiven me.”
“I haven’t forgiven you,” the hero shot back, though there was no real bite to their words. “I’m just… curious.”
The villain’s expression softened, just slightly. “Perhaps I’m curious too. We’re always fighting, always at each other’s throats. I thought it might be… refreshing to see what happens when we’re not.”
The hero didn’t know how to respond to that. They were saved by the arrival of their food, the aroma of perfectly cooked steak making their mouth water. They dug in without hesitation, savoring every bite. It was the best meal they’d had in years.
The villain watched them eat, their expression unreadable. “You know,” they said after a moment, “you don’t have to live like this.”
The hero paused, a forkful of steak halfway to their mouth. “Like what?”
“Like you’re always one paycheck away from disaster,” the villain said, their voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re a hero. You save lives. And yet, you can’t even afford a decent meal. It’s… tragic.”
The hero set their fork down, their appetite suddenly gone. “What are you saying?”
The villain leaned forward, their eyes gleaming. “I’m saying you deserve better. And maybe… I can help with that.”
The hero stared at them, their mind racing. This had to be a trick. Some kind of manipulation. But the villain’s expression was sincere, their offer genuine. And for the first time, the hero wondered if maybe, just maybe, they didn’t have to do this alone.
“Why?” they asked finally. “Why would you help me?”
The villain smiled, a rare, genuine smile. “Because even villains have their soft spots. And because… I think you’re worth it.”
The hero didn’t know what to say to that. So they didn’t say anything. They just picked up their fork and kept eating, the weight of the villain’s words settling over them like a warm blanket.
For the first time in a long time, they felt… hopeful.
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