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The fight dropped out of them.
“Please,” they whispered, dropping to their knees. “Please don’t leave me.”
Hero didn’t move, didn’t open their eyes.
“PLEASE!” Villain grabbed them by the shoulders and shook.
Still, Hero didn’t move.
They let go; Hero’s body flopped back to the ground, as broken as the rubble beneath them.
Had they finally gone too far? Was it…over?
Villain dropped to their haunches, every muscle in their body letting go as the realisation sunk in.
It was over. They’d won.
It was a day they’d been fighting for for years. Days on end spent coming up with plan after plan to take down their enemy—it had all come to this. Their victory.
So why did it feel so empty?
Why do I still feel like I lost?
Prompt #231
“Get. Up,” Villain said. “You’ve suffered bigger wounds. And if you don’t get up, I’ll destroy anything that’s left of this world.”
Villain took a breath. “Please,” they said. “Please get up. Please don’t die on me.”
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Prompt #1
Her hands were in his hair. His cradled her jaw. She pulled his hair back for a better angle. He shivered under her touch.
Her lips were divine, soft, insistent, and his whole being begged her never to stop.
It was heaven, and it was hell. Not that either could stop.
Villain pulled back, his chest heaving, lips tingling. “We shouldn’t.”
But he didn’t move his hands from her jaw, nor pull back any further. She loosened her grip on his hair, giving him a chance to run.
“Do you want to stop?” Hero scratched lightly at his scalp, feeling his heart skip a beat and his breath catch. She couldn’t bear it if he said yes.
“Gods no.” And he lurched back in for another kiss.
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Short Prompt #1146
“This is your last warning,” The creature snarled, baring its sharp teeth. “So unless you want to lose an arm, leave.”
The human stubbornly stood their ground. “Look, I just need to get across the forest. I’m not going to cause any trouble.”
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Gay hero x villain vibes
It has come to my attention that some of you have not actually seen the music video for Ghengis Khan by Miike Snow so I've taken it on myself to end your ignorance of this piece of cinema
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flirty hero x flustered villain + spice pls i am a sucker for this dynamic and u write it so well
“Stop moving like that or this is gonna get more intimate than you want to,” the hero ordered, their chest pressed against the villain’s. Suddenly, they grinned and leaned in, their lips brushing the villain’s ear. “Or is that what you want?”
The villain said nothing which…was unaccountable. It was true that they didn’t talk much but most of the time, they had an answer on their lips.
In the darkness, the hero couldn’t really see their reaction, but they could hear the shaky breath.
“Maybe I want that,” the villain said after a few seconds of silence. Their voice was adorably quiet, their grip on the hero tighter than before.
“Careful what you wish for…” The hero’s hand followed a seam on the back of the villain’s uniform all the way down. All the way down.
The villain took in a sharp breath.
“Now tell me, my pretty villain. What are you doing in my agency?”
“I—” The hero’s hand squeezed softly. The villain’s voice was weak. “Woah—”
They threw their head back against the wall and the walls were so thin it even made the shelf full of cleaning supplies next to them shake.
“Baby,” the hero said gently. “Start using that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll find other ways to make use of it.”
God, the hero loved this. The villain was a total nerd. Broadly speaking. And the hero wanted to devour them.
It was “surprising” to see them here. The villain wasn’t made for field work, no, they were in their element behind the screen. They were a genius. They were good with their fingers.
When the hero had seen them in the fake uniform, they’d decided not to show up to their many meetings today. It looked too good. And even though the villain wasn’t good in the field, their physicality could’ve suggested otherwise.
“My love,” the hero said. Their hand came up to the villain’s throat. Of course they didn’t squeeze, they just held them, feeling soft skin on rough hands, being close, being connected in some strange way. “I love that you’re here, did you miss me?”
“Yes,” the villain whispered. Their voice was shaking again. That satisfied the hero and they couldn’t help but grin.
“Say it. Say that you missed me, sweetheart.”
“I missed you,” the villain said. Their breath was on the hero’s neck which was beyond delicate. It was pure heaven. “…please kiss me.”
They said it so fast, the hero almost missed it.
“Fuck, baby…you know I can’t…” the hero said. “They track everything I do.”
“I could reprogram the protocol,” the villain suggested. “I could…ahh—”
The hero had sunk their teeth into the villain’s neck carefully. Their tongue ran over the bite mark a few times until they started sucking.
They hadn’t thought this would happen. They hadn’t thought they’d see their nemesis today and pull them into a storeroom and give them a hickey. But god, they enjoyed it. They enjoyed the little moans and the soft skin and how the villain held them tighter.
Maybe they were already lost. But the hero had stopped caring about that a long time ago. This was what they needed.
They needed this. They needed the villain. But they also knew when to be reserved. They had to keep their own heartbeat down.
They’d have what they wanted soon enough.
When they were done, they pulled away, their lips hovering over the hickey.
“I know your friends are trying to rob us right now. They will find nothing, they won’t be hunted down. Not today. My orders.” They looked at the villain and could’ve sworn their eyes widened. “I know you’re here as a distraction. I just didn’t know when you’d come.”
They tilted their head, their index finger touching their enemy’s burning cheek.
“Show them the hickey, darling. At least one part of their plan worked.”
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An Affair (Hero x Villain)
Warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic abuse
“You don’t love him.” Hero leaned forward, their eyes pleading. “You love me.”
Villain looked away, closing their eyes, and Hero’s heart broke.
“But it doesn’t matter, does it?” Hero’s eyes burned. A chasm opened in their chest. “You’re leaving with him anyway.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t—” Villain squeezed their eyes shut like they could block out the world that way.
“Oh there’s plenty I don’t understand,” they spat. “Like how you can sneak around with me, telling me you love me, and then go home to a man who doesn’t care about you!” Hero pressed the ice pack to their lover’s bruising cheek. “Or how you can whisper you love me while we make love, but then say you’re choosing him.”
Villain’s hand covered theirs over the ice pack. The touch of their hand had Hero looking into their soft eyes again. “He’s my husband. I have to leave with him.” They shrugged before wincing as the movement pulled their stitches. “I took the vows.”
The mixed determination and regret in their eyes made Hero’s heart shatter all over again. They couldn’t listen to this. They couldn’t listen to the love of their life list reasons for why they had to stay with their abuser. For why their lover chose that asshole over them.
They ripped their hand away from Villain’s, making them hold the ice pack on their own, and stumbled back a few steps. “We were married once. Does that mean nothing to you?”
Villain’s eyes closed. “Hero—”
“No! Stop making excuses for him! He hit you!” Hero thrust their hands through their hair, desperately pulling at the roots. “He lost the right to be called your husband after that!”
The tears that fell from Villain’s eyes had Hero falling to their knees in front of them. They shook their head, the ice pack dropping into their lap. The bruises on their face stood out sharply against the flushed skin. The cuts from the shattered mirror had stopped bleeding an hour ago but Hero knew the deep ones would scar.
“It’s not his fault,” Villain whispered, staring at the ice pack in their hands. “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have told him about us. You warned me not to, and I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have made him angry. It’s my—”
Hero surged back to their lover, cupping their cheeks. “It’s not your fault.” They ducked their head to look Villain in the eyes. “He shouldn’t have hit you! He’s—”
“He’s right though,” they whispered.
Villain looked exhausted. More than they ever had in any fight. Sitting on the counter under the warm lights in Hero’s kitchen, they looked broken.
They looked like they were ready to give up.
“He’s not—”
Villain pulled out of Hero’s gentle touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t have ever done this in the first place.”
“Have an affair?” Hero didn’t move from their place between their lover’s legs. They dropped their empty hands to the counter on either side of Villain’s hips, caging them in. Holding them, even when they couldn’t. “Or fall in love and get married?”
“We’re enemies,” Villain whispered, a fresh wave of tears spilling across their cuts. “We shouldn’t be anything but that.”
“And he’s your husband.” Hero stepped forward until they could feel the heat of their lover’s skin, even through their clothes. “You and I are enemies, yes. We had a messy divorce.”
Villain’s laugh was wet and weak, their chin wobbling with the effort not to fall apart.
“But I never hurt you.” Hero lifted their hand slowly—enough time for them to pull away—and cradled Villain’s face. Their thumb traced a gentle line across their lover’s cheekbone, mindful of the injuries. Even amongst the bruises and scrapes, Villain’s soft beauty still made Hero’s heart pound. Especially their beautiful pleading eyes. Always so full of emotion. It was one of things they loved most about them.
“I never took my anger out on you. Not even when we are on opposite sides of this ridiculous war.” Hero’s other hand reached for Villain’s own. They threaded their fingers together. “He’s your husband now, and he hurts you worse than your greatest enemy ever has.” Their thumb made another sweeping pass, this time to catch the tears as they overflowed.
They held Villain as they trembled. “How can you reason that away? How can you convince yourself it’s okay that your husband makes you bleed more than your nemesis. I am the villain of your story,” Hero whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “And I take better care of you than your husband does.”
Villain broke. Their body shuddered as the sobs racked through them. They clutched Hero’s wrists, tugging them desperately forward as the dam broke.
Hero swore. They wrapped their arms around their lover and pulled them in tightly. Villain buried their face in their neck and broke down entirely.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Hero wound a hand through their hair and wrapped the other arm around their waist. Villain wrapped their legs around Hero’s back and clung to them desperately. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Villain admitted with a cracked whisper. Their body shook with the force of their sobs. “It hurts so much. I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go back to him.”
“Never.” Hero lifted their lover into their arms and carried them to the bed they’d shared not too long ago.
Villain clutched them tighter, shaking. “I don’t want to go. Please. I just want to stay with you. Please don’t make me go.”
“I will never let you go,” Hero swore. They didn’t let go even as the trembling pair fell against the pillows. “I am never leaving you again. And I’ll kill him before I let him come anywhere near you.”
An almost laugh fell out between Villain’s sobs. “You won’t. You’re too good for that.”
“He is nothing. Insignificant. No one will notice if he disappears.” Hero pressed a kiss to the crown of their head and held them as tight as they dared. “For you, I’d do anything.”
I will keep you safe, Hero swore silently. Even if I have to become a villain to do it.
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Might I request a Villain, who while fighting Hero in their Lab/Base, accidentally sets off a Trap/Weapon, backfiring on them, and ends up all wrapped up in some sort of Net/rope. Hero just laughs, Villain being angry and flustered that they made this mistake, accuses the classic line of "Are you into this or something!?" and much to their dismay, Hero responds smugly with "Yeah, how could you tell?"
And if it is not too much, as apparently one of the few "Villain gets railed by Hero" enjoyers, could I request at least the implications of that, and as you'd expect, make it as spicy as you'd like ;) - 💌
Request #22
Hmmmmm yes...this will do splendidly for my return.
CW: SPPIIIIICCCCYYY
Five minutes had passed and still the hero hadn't stopped laughing. It was humiliating enough for the villain to have stepped into their own trap - to have effectively disarmed themself as they fell to the ground, dropping their knife the second the ropes had hit their ankles and wrapped up around their legs and arms, the villain now no more agile than a fish on land - the last thing they needed was the hero laughing at them.
The villain was surprised the other hadn't passed out yet. There had been a brief moment where the hero had gone silent and the villain had presumed their incessant wheezing had finally led to their suffocation but the world clearly didn't feel like being that kind to them today.
"Are you finished yet?" the villain asked.
More laughter.
They rolled their eyes and then rolled themself, turning to the side so that they at least didn't have to look at the hero as the other practically broke down into tears. It wasn't that funny. Didn't the hero have better things to do - people to save? A city's ass to kiss? Gods, couldn't they just arrest villain already so they could get out of these stupid ropes!?
The villain squirmed as they tried to free themself once more, huffing when their arms remained pinned to their sides and their legs were as good as glued to each other. If only they'd managed to keep hold of their knife... They could see it now. Just a few steps in front of them, beneath their failed attempt at a freeze ray. Even if they made it over there they wouldn't be able to reach it. That required arms, and hands, and apparently they could currently use neither--!
A hand pressed against their shoulder and suddenly they were being turned to lay on their back, eyes already fixed into a glare before they even caught sight of the hero above them.
"If you start laughing again..." The villain let the threat fall flat, jaw clenching when a small giggle broke through the hero's lips.
"No, it's - I'm," the hero took a breath, barely containing the smirk that crossed their face, "I'm good now, I-- I'm fine, I swear."
"I don't care about your wellbeing, I care about my dignity! Now stop laughing and get me out already!" the villain seethed.
To that the hero merely tutted, a playful huff of breath leaving them as they regarded the helpless villain below them. "Wow. You're at my complete mercy and you still can't even say please."
The villain stared up at them unamused. A few seconds passed and they quickly grew tired of looking at the hero's stupid grin, moving to turn themself once more only to have the hero hold them back - the other's legs suddenly straddling their waist and trapping them in as if the villain could have possibly gotten away from them. All the villain had left was the ability to roll and now they couldn't even do that - what more did the hero want?
"I'm not begging you," the villain said. That was the one low they refused to steep too.
"Aw," the hero pouted, "not even a little?"
The villain glared. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? What, having me tied up beneath you isn't enough? I bet your into all that stuff aren't you - I bet you're just loving this."
A pause.
The villain felt themself flush a little as the hero's smile grew wider.
"Yeah, I am. How could you tell?"
Unbelievable. The hero was unbelievable - who just said that? Who just admitted that openly to- to anyone?
"Y-Your joking," the villain said.
The hero simply shrugged. "Am I?"
"You don't just...th-that's not--"
"Not what?" the hero asked innocently.
"I don't know!" the villain spat, too flustered to think. "You don't just go around sharing your kinks, that- that's private!"
To that the hero merely hummed, that stupid grin still plastered on their face as they regarded the villain below them, hands splaying out across their chest. "You're blushing," they commented.
A pause.
"N-No I'm not," the villain said quietly, cheeks burning brighter even as they spoke. "And even if I was i-it would only be out of embarrassment! E-Embarrassment for you!"
"If you say so..."
The villain didn't like that tone of voice. The hero sounded cocky, and - as far as their past encounters were concerned - a cocky hero was a dangerous one.
They held their breath and averted their gaze as the other suddenly leant in closer, their lips practically brushing against the villain's cheek: "Are you sure that's all there is to it?"
The villain gulped. "O-Of course. What else would it be?"
The hero smiled and leaned back again, leisurely trailing their hands over the ropes which crossed the villain's chest.
"Oh, I don't know," they said slowly, their fingers working their way beneath the binds. "I just thought that, perhaps--" They grasped the ropes, twisted them and pulled up, the villain gasping at the sudden tightness across their arms and chest as their back rose off the floor "--we had a shared interest."
Even if they'd had their hands free, the villain would have never been able to hide the deep blush that spread across their cheeks and down their neck, the tips of their ears similarly tinting pink as they gaped up at the hero above them. They squirmed, their new position quickly growing uncomfortable when the hero twisted the ropes once more - waiting for a response that the villain was too flustered to give.
"Well?" they prompted.
"I-I, um..."
"You what?"
Gods, the villain was panting - breaths far too shallow to give them sufficient oxygen to think straight.
"Oh, come on now. Don't be shy," the hero said. "A smart villain like you always has plenty to say: you can't tell me that all it took was a little rope to make you dumb--"
"B-Bananas," the villain muttered.
The hero paused, grip loosening a little as they raised a brow. "Bananas?"
The villain nodded, face completely flushed as they shuffled slightly, an undeniable heat building up between their legs. "It's m-my, um, safe word."
"Oh. Oh!" The hero's eyes widened, an apology quickly falling from their lips as they went to put the villain back down only to have the other suddenly shake their head.
"N-No! Th-that's not- I meant--" the villain sputtered out a wild mix of words in a rush, the hero catching absolutely none of it but pausing in their actions all the same until the other had taken a breath, gaze averted off to the side as they tried again. "I just thought you, um, sh-should know. I-In case I need to...y-you know."
It took the hero a second to process that. In fact, it took them two. But once they did their grin returned to them quickly as they pulled the villain back up, gripping the ropes just as tightly as they had before.
"Yeah?" the hero checked.
Beneath them the villain nodded, a content sigh slipping past their lips as they let themself relax into the other's hold - the hero's free hand coming up to run through their hair and give an experimental tug that had the villain shuddering delightfully. They repeated the action again, a little stronger this time, and it earned them a small moan.
"Well then," the hero said, eyes practically transfixed upon the bound criminal beneath them, "in that case, I'm sure we can find a much better punishment for you than prison. One that's more...fitting. Personal."
The villain had never heard the hero say something so promising in their life. If this was how they avoided arrest, then perhaps falling into their own trap hadn't been a complete failure on their part after all.
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Prompt #6
TW: self-depreciation, obsessive thoughts
Villain slams Hero against the wall, only for them to counter with a sharp kick to the shins.
"That's low," they wince, aiming a punch to Hero's cheek.
"Well you sure as hell deserve it." Their nemesis grits their teeth and tries to block their punch.
Villain grabs hold of Hero's wrist, and twists it harshly with a resounding crack. The shock of the pain has them momentarily dazed which gives their enemy enough time to slam them into the wall and stare straight into their light brown eyes.
Villain grins savagely. "Let's find out what goes on in that mind of yours. Hm?"
The easiest thoughts to access are always the most common ones. If they can get through those, they might be able to delve deeper into Hero's mind and find out about their past, their deepest secrets, anything that might be of good use to them. Their resistance is strong, and Villain has to use all of their energy to be able to break through.
They were not prepared for what they saw.
For all of Hero's snark and what Villain had mistook for confidence, their mind consisted heavily of the cruelest self-hate they'd ever seem.
"Your eye colour is boring. Your face is ugly. Your figure is not good enough."
"You're stupid. You mess up all the time. Too many mistakes, and you're too dim-witted to stop making them."
"Your friends only stick around because they don't want to hurt your feelings. You bore them. You talk too much and they have better things to do than listen."
"You are weak. Villain probably doesn't respect you enough to be afraid. You will never be enough. Never."
Their mind was sadistic. Beating them up for every mistake with crushing guilt, forcing them to rethink every argument that could've gone better and pointing out every imperfection, physical or moral, that you would only notice if you were scouring for faults.
And the rare times that Hero felt good about themselves, they were almost always getting praised by others.
Hero needed praise to believe that their self-inflicted mental beatings were wrong. It finally made sense why they were always exhausting themselves. It was as if their whole life was a repentance for simply existing. They wanted perfection. Expected it of themselves even.
Villain left their mind, gasping for air. It felt like they were being drowned. "H-how do you live like this?"
"Like what?" Hero cocks a confused brow, playing the fool.
"Hating every single thing about yourself. It's torture!" Their eyes widen, and they find themselves unconsciously resting a hand on their enemy's shoulder.
Hero gives them a wry smile. "I'm used to it."
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Our Little Games
Synopsis: you’re the protagonist, playing a game of mutual seduction with the antagonist. To kiss, or not to kiss, that is the question.
You stop in mid-motion, with your lips no more than two or three centimetres from theirs. Your breath fans warm onto their flushed skin as they look questioningly up into your eyes. They want you to kiss them. They expect you to kiss them. It’s written all over that adorable little frown of theirs.
But you won’t just hand yourself over to them on a silver platter. You’re not that cheap. And besides, you’re certainly not going to make it that easy. You won’t allow room for them to make excuses later, to tell themself you forced them and that they hadn’t actually wanted any of it.
No.
You know your own worth.
You are far too precious for that.
If they want you they’ll have to put in the necessary effort first. It has to be their choice, made of their own free will. If they want a taste of you they’ll have to claim it by themself.
They’ll have to seal this deal with their kiss.
You see the realisation gleam in the depths of those eyes they’re watching your every move with so attentively. A hint of desperation creeps into the lines on their face. Their throat bobs as they swallow, you can feel it brush against the back of your fingers.
A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you withdraw the hand that had been gently lifting their chin. They’re now free to turn their head away from you or lower it, but they do no such thing. Something in your gaze seems to be holding them in place still, even after you’ve removed the caress of your fingers.
The distance between you appears to be melting away gradually. You wonder whether they’ve noticed they’re slowly closing it. If so, they’re doing a great job at not letting it show on their face.
You can’t help but sigh as their breath starts to mingle with your own. So close you’re even breathing each other now. Traces of them are in the air all around you. The scent they carry conjures an image of an afternoon walk through the forest on a warm summer day.
Their half-opened lips tremble ever so slightly against yours. You’d think them vulnerable and on the verge of surrender, if it weren’t for that glint in their eyes, the persistent defiance underneath all that need and longing. There is a glimpse of danger lurking in the shadows, a predator.
They draw a gasp from you, running the nails of their fingers down your spine. You knew they’d try something, yet somehow this catches you by surprise anyway. Your body shudders against theirs.
Pressed flush to them now, you suddenly become keenly aware this is the closest you’ve ever been to them. The heat of their body seeps into you, seemingly unhindered by the oh so thin layers of clothing separating you from one another.
They wink at you, as if to tease you one more time. Then a simple touch of their tongue along your upper lip makes the last remnants of your self-restraint crumble as well. You lean in.
And just like that you lose yet another one of these little games.
You should have known better than to underestimate them!
———
For my other stories, visit my [MASTERLIST] ♥
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I'm a Sucker for You
Synopsis: a retired supervillain receives a long-expected visit from his vampire ex-nemesis.
Based on this prompt by @seafoamicecream “I was the best supervillain out there!” “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you were, grandpa.”
His grandson had patiently patted his arm, probably thinking him delusional again. The boy was a darling – always visiting, always looking out for his old grandfather – but sadly, so lacking in both imagination and a due confidence in his elders’ words.
He would have loved to tell the boy all about his exploits in all their grandeur and infamous glory. But alas, his grandson hadn’t believed him today either and the boy’s visit had come to an end all too soon.
Never mind. He’d try again later.
“I really was the best supervillain out there,” the retired supervillain mumbled to the now empty chair next to his bed, repeating the words merely for the sake of truthfulness.
God, he was tired.
“You were so much more than that.” A voice like birdsong on a warm summer night floated in through the room’s open window, followed by a dreamy sigh. “Oh, all those battles we fought, the hearts we stole, and the blood we shed!
"That one time, you came so close to killing me, I could almost feel my heart beating again.”
Chuckling softly, he gave a small weary nod to the visitor lurking outside his window. About time they finally came by; he’d almost thought he’d die without seeing them again. And what a sight they were: still unchanged after all those years, as if they’d last parted yesterday.
“Hello, Hero.”
“Hello there, old friend.” Hero’s voice practically dripped amusement as they raised an eyebrow at him, their gaze a challenge. Their tongue trailed the edge of a long, pointed canine tooth and their lips curved into that familiar smirk. “May I come in?”
“You may not.” He scoffed. “It seems you haven’t changed one bit, neither in appearance nor in attitude.”
“Well, what can I say… there is no point in altering what is already flawless.” His former nemesis licked their lips. “Besides, you aren’t so terribly different either; you smell as delectable as you did forty years ago.”
Oh dear. This again.
He rolled his eyes. His hero irrefutably was still the same old silly vampire he’d known half a lifetime ago. So intriguingly uninhibited, so infuriatingly attractive, and always flirting so shamelessly with him at every opportunity.
So eager to tempt him even now, as though he wasn’t practically wasting away while the two of them spoke. Wasn’t that ridiculous? He was frail and weak and wheezing; his every other breath sounded a little like it might be his last. Hell, he likely looked as ancient as the hero was.
From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them had to look outlandishly comical next to each other. Anyone who didn’t know better would see a young adult trying to seduce an old man on his deathbed. The two of them were a caricature. A joke short of a punch line.
With a low groan he pushed himself up into a sitting position and leaned against the headboard of his bed, which afforded him a better view of the window and its occupant.
Peculiar smiles adorned both their faces – one wrinkled by the years and sunken-cheeked from illness, the other sharp-featured and immaculate ivory.
The former supervillain snorted. “If you haven’t noticed already: I’m slowly dying of old age and poor health, Hero. You once said you despised the taste of tainted blood. There’s no need to pretend you still want mine.”
“I had noticed.” The carefree smirk on Hero’s face died, replaced momentarily by a more appropriately solemn expression. Then, their gaze dropped to his neck and a visible shudder ran through them. “And yet, for as long as you have a pulse, there will never come a day I won’t desire to suck you dry, to the very last drop.”
The vampire stared at him with their characteristically undisguised hunger gleaming in uncharacteristically sorrowful eyes. As melodramatic as ever, eternally prone to histrionic displays, but candid and sincere nonetheless – that was his old foe.
He stared back.
The years hadn’t exactly been kind to his body, but had, miraculously, spared both his wits and his vision. His gaze – as keen as ever – roamed Hero’s face, searching for something unfamiliar among the curves of their bones, the lines around their mouth, between their sad frown and the pale-violet eyes burning into his.
All he found were familiarity and nostalgia.
Exactly the same as back then, right down to the last detail. A gorgeous glimpse of a glamorous past. Oh, what a time that had been!
His heartbeat had sped up. If even he could tell, Hero must be able to hear it all too clearly. They could likely see the pulse thumping in his arteries, sense the tiniest tremor in his limbs. He swallowed hard, and knew the vampire would notice that as well.
“You came to drink my blood.”
The hero tilted their head sheepishly to the side. Two fingers on their right hand were tapping a steady rhythm – tap tap, tap tap, tap tap – against the window frame. “I won’t deny I’d love to. But would you believe me if I told you I’d mainly come to see an old friend off?”
An old friend, huh? Right.
“See me off? In terms of killing me or…” he trailed off, letting the question hang in the air.
“In terms of holding your hand.” The insufferable show-off held their left hand up in demonstration, displaying sharp claws, and offered him a bright smile that only served to further accentuate their fangs. “All you have to do is invite me inside, then I’ll sit at your bedside and pat your arm. Same as the delicious-looking little thing who visited you earlier.”
His stomach lurched. Growling, he glared at the vampire.
“My grandson is neither a little thing nor a blood bag for you to snack on!” His voice dropped to a snarl. “If you touch him—”
The echo of his long-neglected powers flared up by instinct. For the first time in years, he forced them to manifest. Sizzling on the surface of his skin and throbbing underneath, the sparks buzzed hot and angry from the palms of his hands like myriads of tiny bees ready to sting.
The vampire laughed, face alight with excitement.
“Please,” they drawled, and had the audacity to mock pout at him, “as if I’d ever lay hands upon your defenceless offspring. I’m not a savage monster.”
“You are a blood-thirsty vampire.” He deadpanned, but his tone had mellowed somewhat, and he took a deep breath, allowing the powers to retreat. He wouldn’t need them. After all, Hero was just playing games with him.
“Touché,” his blood-thirsty vampire said and chuckled. “Still, I didn’t mean to imply I was going to eat him; merely that he looks tasty. It was a compliment.”
He tsked, though not without humour. “Of course, you’d think so.”
Unperturbed, the vampire smirked at him. They were clearly trying to bait, to irritate on purpose and just for the thrill that seemed to give them. He refused to fall for such an obvious trick.
“Your grandson’s got your clever eyes,” Hero mused, eyeing him intently, “and the set of his shoulders and the pattern of the blood vessels in his neck are almost identical to yours. Appetising. Hm, and that hypnotic rhythm of his heartbeat…”
The vampire’s fingers were still tapping away – tap tap, tap tap, tap tap – on the weather-worn wood, drawing his gaze like a small shimmer of light in the dark. It was a soothing beat, relaxing, like water dripping from a leaky tap, or the rhythm of a—
A heartbeat. His heartbeat.
A shiver made its way down his spine and he shot the hero a sharp look.
The vampire tensed. Their gaze followed his as he accusingly frowned down at their now still hand. Then their eyes met his again and an eerie silence descended upon the two of them like a murky fog, heavy and palpable. Neither of them dared to move or look away first.
Eventually, he heaved a long-suffering sigh.
“Blood is all you ever think of, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.
Hero shrugged, and it wasn’t an apology.
“Your blood,” the vampire clarified, nonchalant as if what they’d just given away wasn’t some sort of confession. “Decades, and I can still taste you on my tongue.”
They’d had his blood only twice, no more than a mouthful each time.
He opened his mouth, whether to reply or from sheer embarrassment – how could Hero say such things with a straight face? – he didn’t know.
Before he got a chance to say or do anything foolish, the vampire’s claws dug into the window frame, splintering the wood with their careless display of inhuman strength and speed.
“The blood of others is watery soup. They’re barely more than sustenance.” Their voice, unlike their movements, was the softest murmur and filled to the brim with longing and unspoken pleas. “You are everything, and your blood is liquid gratification.”
Something about that stole the breath right out of his lungs.
He coughed a few times, reached for his glass of water on the bedside table, took a sip, then another, and put the glass back down.
“Is that so? I see….” In fact, he did not see, not in the least. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “So, what does it taste like?”
Hero watched his every move a little too attentively for comfort, the oddest hesitation in the cock of their head, in the stiffness of their shoulders. The corner of their mouth twitched in a way that was impossible to interpret.
“It’s complicated. Hard to describe. It’s not exactly a taste in the same sense as food has a flavour. Well, in essence…” The vampire bit their lower lip. Their throat bobbed almost imperceptibly as they swallowed. “Your blood tastes of how you feel to me.”
How he felt to them.
He frowned. How did he feel to them?
Everything, the vampire had called him. Liquid gratification.
“Careful, you’ll make this sound like a declaration of love,” he jested, and should perhaps not have felt quite so curiously gratified to see the customary mischievous grin return to his vampire’s fair face.
“Careful,” his vampire mimicked, “you’ll make this sound like you’re hoping for one.”
He hummed, non-committally, neither acknowledging nor denying the point.
“You still haven’t told me what I taste like.”
“You still haven’t invited me inside.”
He chuckled. Dammit, he’d missed that foolish hero and their endearing quips.
“If I did allow you inside, would you tell me?”
A predatory gleam shone in the vampire’s eyes. They nodded – rather too eager – with a smile that was all teeth. Sharp, pointed teeth.
This was a horrible idea.
Goose-flesh prickled down his shoulders and he pulled the blanket up around his chest to shield himself from the sudden chill creeping into his bones.
All right. Okay.
Perhaps his grandson was right after all; he was losing his mind.
He took a deep breath that didn’t go a long way towards steadying him, committed his soul to whatever deity might be watching, and gestured to the chair next to his bed.
“Come in,” he said to the vampire, “and sit with me.”
———
For my other stories, visit my [MASTERLIST] ♥
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not to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being sincere on the internet, but your presence matters to people & your absence is felt in ways you can’t possibly realize
i have a standing bi-weekly appointment for a medical treatment, and i ended up missing a few appointments in a row for various reasons. and when i came back to the infusion center earlier this week, the nurses couldn’t stop saying that they really missed me & were wondering why i hadn’t been in
it had never occurred to me that i was anything more than a job duty to them. it never occurred to me that they’d miss seeing me, even though i know that i miss seeing regular library patrons & wonder where they are when they’re away. i just never put two & two together that way
so yes, people would notice if you disappeared off the face of the earth tomorrow. yes, people smile to themselves when you walk in the door. yes, your presence matters to far more people than you realize
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Tumblr should make different colors of verified checkmark
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Not Yelling At Children is Better Than Yelling At Children, More At 11
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My Masterlist
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Spotify || My Fanfiction || AO3
About me: I write every day but get halfway through a story, get bored and start another. Hence the slow updates. I'm working on uploading something every month to keep myself to a schedule, but we'll see how that goes. I have ADHD so my attention is 100% like a butterfly in a hurricane.
I've only just started writing (and posting) Hero x Villain pieces, but I am genuinely loving it and the atmosphere this community creates. If you feel like making a new friend, feel free to message me; I love making new friends!
All the snippets I post will be added here and ordered by when they were posted. Most are lone snippets, but if you want more (or you have ideas you want me to write), let me know and you might just motivate me to continue (but no promises)🧡
I apparently also do prompts now…
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Hero x Villain
An Affair
The Retiree
Give Me A Reason
Hero vs Supervillain
Beg
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I also write fanfiction, so if that's your cup of tea, feel free to head over to my other blog or my AO3 account.
Reblogs and comments, as always, are much loved and appreciated! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🧡
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Beg Part 1 (Heroes and Villains)
Warnings: violence, threats
“We need your help.” 
Supervillain didn’t move from their place by the window. Didn’t give any indication they’d heard. Hero shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing at Sidekick who looked equally uncomfortable at the silence. She nudged Hero, their unwilling spokesperson. 
“Supervillain? Did you hear—”
“Shhh.” Supervillain held up a finger, hands bound. “Don’t ruin the moment.” 
Silence fell again as the heroing team glanced at each other. They were running out of time. 
Finally, Supervillain smiled. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” They rolled their shoulders, satisfaction radiating from them in waves as the tension in the cell grew. When they looked over their shoulder, there was a wicked and vicious grin on their face as they said, “Say it again.” 
Hero clenched his jaw. “We need your help.” 
“To do what?” Supervillain purred, turning around.
“To stop Villain. She’s out of control.”
“Why can’t you do it?” Supervillain stepped over to their cot and sat down gracefully, despite the various binds and chains on them. Their smile told Hero they knew why. That they wanted to see the heroes beg. That after everything the heroes had done to Supervillain, nothing short of absolute humiliation would work. 
“We aren’t strong enough.” Hero’s face burned, but he put aside his pride to stare Supervillain right in the eye. This had to work. It had to. They were out of options. “We can’t beat her without your help.”
Supervillain crossed one ankle over the other and leaned back as though they had all the leisure in the world. And in this moment, they did. Hero was prepared to give them whatever they wanted in return for their help. 
“Why should I help you?” Their amusement vanished as they tilted their head. “I’m assuming you want me to kill Villain. And I imagine since you’re all so out of your depths that she’s grown stronger, so it’s a possibility she’ll kill me first. So what’s in it for me? And don’t say I’ll get my freedom—we both know you don’t have that much power.”
Hero stood straighter. “I’ve been authorised to offer you library privileges and more freedom in the yard.” 
Supervillain waited, but their eyebrows rose when nothing more was offered. “That’s it? Books and a walk?” They snorted. “Clearly you’re not that desperate.” 
Except they were. “What do you want?” 
They looked Hero up and down. Dread flickered in his chest as the silence dragged. They could ask for anything, and Hero was desperate enough to give it to them. Damn the consequences.
“Beg.” 
Hero’s heart dropped to his toes. “What?” 
“Beg.” Supervillain licked their lips. “Beg me to help you.” 
Hero closed his eyes. He’d expected this, predicted it even, but if humiliating himself was going to save their city, then of course he’d do it. “You’re our only hope,” he whispered. “Plea—”
“On your knees.” 
Beside them Sidekick tensed, but before they could say anything to make the situation worse, Hero did as demanded. The stone floor was cold and hard beneath their knees but they kept their spine straight. “Please, Supervillain. We need your help. Villain’s wiped out half our team and the city is falling. We can’t stop her without your help.” 
The prisoner stayed silent, waiting. 
“People are dying.” He was running out of options. Out of reasons to beg for. “Good people—people who aren’t involved in any of this. Please. Help us.” 
“No.”
Despair sunk into Hero’s bones and his head hung beneath his shoulders. 
I can’t leave here without them. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my city. 
He closed his eyes. “Please,” he whispered. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please help us.” 
“Why?” Supervillain surged forward as far as their chains allowed, their face twisting into a vicious snarl and the heroing team lurched back. “Why should I help you? You’re asking me to kill my best friend! Why in the hell would I ever say yes to that?”
Hero had one last card up his sleeve. I don’t want to use this—no one deserves to find out like this—but if it gets their help, I’ll tell them. 
Supervillain’s lip curled and they faced the window again. “Useless. You come in here begging for my help and you ca—”
“Your wife is dead.”
Supervillain froze, every muscle in their back tensing. Hero could see the denial in every inch of their being. He knew exactly what they were thinking—because it was what he’d felt this morning. It was why he was so desperate to get his worst enemy’s help. 
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. Not about this.” 
Supervillain’s eyes narrowed. Hatred and malice glinting through their eyelashes as they looked back at their enemies. “Then you’re mistaken. My wife is not dead. I would know.” 
“How?” Sidekick blurted, unable to stop herself even as the air thickened with tension. “You’ve been locked up for seven years. You don’t even get letters. How could you possibly know?” 
Supervillain’s laugh was chilling and mocking. It slithered down the heroes’ necks and into their hearts. “You think because I don’t get mail I don’t know what’s happening? You think because you give me out-of-date newspapers I don’t know how the world is burning? You think because you keep the lights on that I don’t know day from night?” They stepped forward, every step a threat. “I know today is the seventh Monday of the new year, and it’s eleven minutes past midnight. I know Sidekick visited her grandmother yesterday, only to find she’d passed away in her sleep.” 
Sidekick stiffened. 
“Not to mention the strange bottle of pills they found by her bedside.” They tilted their head, the light in their eyes making Hero shiver. “I know what you have for breakfast, what time you get to work, how you sleep at night, what you whisper to your loved ones before bed.”
This was a bad idea. Hero stumbled to his feet. We shouldn’t have come. There’s a reason they’re the most feared person in all of history.
But Supervillain didn’t stop, not in their steps nor their threats. “You can lock me up for eternity and deprive me of all contact with any living being, but that does not change the fact that I know everything. My reach extends farther than your tiny minds can ever conceive. Nothing happens in this world that I do not know about. Nothing moves without my say so. So I would know if my wife was dead.” Their cold eyes landed on Hero and a shiver trembled along his spine. “Just like I know Superhero’s dead.”
Hero’s heart stopped. No, no. Don’t say that. If you say it, that means it’s true. If you say it, I have to remember how she looked at the bottom of those stairs. “If you had something to do with that, I’ll—?”
“You’ll what?” Supervillain stopped at the edge of their chains. “You’re only just now realising the power I still hold. That was your second mistake.” The chains holding them in position groaned ominously. “Your first was lying about my wife. You won’t survive to make a third.” 
“I wouldn’t lie about this.” Hero’s heart pounded. The malevolent light in Supervillain’s eyes made them want to run away and never look back. “There was a freak storm last night—” 
“Stop it.” 
“—that only struck her apartment building. Not a drop of rain hit anywhere else. Two hundred and seventeen lightning strikes.”
“I said stop!” Supervillain lurched violently against their chains and Hero flinched but didn’t stop. 
“Paramedics and firefighters were called to the scene but they were too late; the entire building was in ruins.” Hero hated that he was the one to tell them this. They might have been enemies, but no one should find out the love of their lives had been murdered. Especially not like this. “Authorities have determined that her apartment was the target, and…” He swallowed. “They found her body this morning. She never stood a chance.” 
“ENOUGH!” Supervillain roared and the very air trembled. 
How are they doing that? Hero stared at the power-dampening collar still around the prisoner’s neck. It had been designed specifically for them when they’d been captured, designed to block their vibration powers completely—so how were they using them now?
The collar’s power light is still on, he reassured himself. Superhero told me they were strong—maybe the collar can only block so much of their power, and this is just the extra stuff. He nodded to himself. That was it. It had to be. No one else had ever broken through those chains and that collar. There was no way they’d break. We’re safe, he thought. We’re safe. Supervillain can’t get out.
Hero blinked and something snapped. In the fraction of a second it took for him to open his eyes again, Supervillain was gone. 
Sidekick screamed. He spun around to see her collapsed on the floor, arching in pain as Supervillain stood over her, their eyes carefully blank. The chains dangled from their wrists, broken and mangled, and the collar was a shattered mess at their feet. Before Hero could reach for his power, for his weapon, anything to fight the now free monster. Sidekick stopped screaming. 
Supervillain glanced at him. “To make noise, the tissues in your throat vibrate at a certain pitch.” They raised their hand, and Sidekick arched in the same motion, silently screaming. “I have a hold on her vocal chords and her spine. If you draw your weapon or attack me in any form, I will vibrate her chords so hard they crack from the pressure.” They stepped over her, like she was a piece of litter on the sidewalk. “If you call for help, or indicate in any way for reinforcements, I will shatter her spine until the shards puncture every organ and the spinal fluid seeps into her lungs and she drowns in silence.” 
They stopped in front of Hero who couldn’t stop trembling. “So keep this in mind when you think about lying to me.” Their pointer finger tilted his head up to an awkward angle. “Where is my wife?”
“I–I wasn’t lying earlier. She really is dead.” Hero squeezed his fists shut, fingernails digging into his skin to draw blood. He used the pain to keep the unadulterated terror at bay. “I saw her body myself.” 
“That’s impossible.” 
Behind them, Sidekicked whimpered, arching further. 
“Please, please,” Hero begged. “I’m telling you the truth. I can take you to the body if that’ll make you believe me.” A memory came to mind that had them scrambling for the piece of paper in their pocket. “I–I have proof! She left a note!” He held out the note Villain had left behind, stapled to the charred body. 
The sight had made him throw up, and the memory was enough to gag. 
Suddenly the tension fled the room and behind them Sidekick whimpered in pain, slumping to the ground. Hero hesitated, watching terrified as the note in Supervillain’s hand crumpled to ash before running to his friend’s side.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He lifted her head to cradle it in his hands, flinching as she cried out in pain. 
“I’ll do it,” Villain murmured behind them. 
He glanced over his shoulder at the powered criminal and was shocked to see them standing strong. He caught their eye and saw a new fire burning in their depths. 
“I’ll do it,” they repeated, stronger than before. “I’ll kill Villain.” 
Instead of the relief he thought he’d feel, Hero felt nothing but throat crushing fear. Yes, Villain was an unstoppable monster, but he had the feeling that he’d just unleashed something far worse. 
“When your reinforcements arrive, you will instruct them to lower their weapons and accept my help. If any of them try anything against me, I will ensure they—and everyone they love—will drown in their own blood.” Supervillain’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before they smiled. “Seventy-three little heroes and their busy-bee workers in one building.” Their eyes opened. “It would be a shame for all their blood to be on your hands. Do I make myself clear?”
Hero nodded hastily and watched as Supervillain stepped over the heroing pair. “Good. Now I have a best friend to kill.” 
~~~
She tipped her head back, breathing deeply in the night air. A smile crept onto her face as she tasted that familiar scent once more. 
“Well hello, darling,” Villain purred. “Looks like someone’s finally escaped their cage.” 
She stood up on the edge of the skyscraper roof, looking out over the city she aimed to conquer. She’d waited years and years to taste that scent on the air again, and now finally she could. This was what she was waiting for. The last piece of the puzzle before the city would finally be hers. 
“Death is coming. And I am so looking forward to bathing in your blood.” She chuckled and stepped off the roof. 
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A/N: I'm aiming to post something every month, so to keep with that schedule, I am rushing to post again tonight. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated 🧡
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I needed to hear this today 💖
Benefits To Writing Fanfiction
There are a lot of people out there who find fanfiction to be weird. There are also a lot of people out there who are ashamed to admit they write fanfiction. Well, today I hope I can break down that wall a bit and show everyone that writing fanfiction is not only a legitimate form of writing but also a beneficial one!
I write a lot of fanfiction - I'll admit it. Maybe one day y'all will figure out what my AO3 account is, maybe not. And yes, I am a hardcore fan of AO3 it's the best fanfiction sharing website out there, no doubt. If you disagree I'm sorry for your loss. But, yeah. I write a lot of fanfiction and read a lot of fanfiction and honestly? I think I've grown a LOT as a writer since then. Here's why.
It helps you explore new genres
As a writer I find it hard to step out of my comfort zone when writing. Does anyone else feel the same? Well, regardless of if you do or don't, since writing fanfiction I've found myself writing genres I wouldn't have even considered writing before. I think this is mainly because I'm usually taking already existing universes and expanding on them with my own ideas. Some of the work is already done for me, which makes me feel more comfortable putting my feet in the door of this new genre. It doesn't seem as scary - and in turn it's a lot more fun.
Often authors are scared to try something new in fear of messing up, but with fanfiction you already have something to work with that's not just a rough idea for a story, and all you have to do is test the waters. This makes the fear of writing in that genre with your own idea a lot less scarier later down the line.
Gaining Experience From Having Your Work Read
Without fanfiction I doubt I would have had many people read my work. Some of my friends have read my original stories - and also my fanfiction - and some of my family has read it as well, but other than that nobody that I know personally has read my work. Then I started writing fanfiction.
My writing was mostly trashy at first, not gonna lie. When I started posting my fanfiction online it was actually on Wattpad and I've grown tremendously as a writer since then. Without the constant feedback and validation from everyone who had read, commented on and liked my stories I don't know where I would be as a writer today. I've grown so much because of my fandoms, and now I'd like to say I'm pretty good at writing.
Borrowing Others Ideas
I think, one of my favorite things about fanfiction, is that you have so many different worlds to borrow from. If you like a character you can write about them. If you want to see your favorite characters in a different world you can do that. You get to test so many different things out and you can really improve your weak spots as a writer or just have fun with your strengths.
Because you don't have to come up with every little thing as a writer, you really just get to have fun with pre-made elements. And you also really grow from this too. You're studying already made storylines, worlds, and characters. And, if you're anything like me, this might cause you to think about your own story and how to develop it more. So really, learning more about characters like Luz Noceda from The Owl House or Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson on such an intimate level can help you develop your own characters and see where they're lacking. The same goes for world building and plot lines.
Rebooting Your Love Of Writing
How many of your write every day. Or every week or month etc...
Me neither. Before really getting into fanfiction I would write maybe once every six months. It can be draining, especially when you don't know what you're doing. But once I started writing fanfiction - lots of it, I started writing at least once a week. And now I write almost every day! And I'm writing for myself most of the time, but the love and validation from the people who read and comment and like my work can really keep me motivated too. When they have ideas and I know they're wrong, or are just surprised by a twist or maybe mad at something that happened. Any and all feedback really keeps me going.
And a lot of the time, when I'm tired of writing fanfiction...
Well, then I get motivated to work on my original pieces.
Practice! Practice! Practice!
Writing fanfiction is just a great way to practice your own writing skills, all in all. And even if you aren't working on any of your own original ideas, or you don't have any at all, fanfiction is still a great way to write and keep in touch with your creative side. Because, at the end of the day, fanfiction is a form of writing, and there is no wrong way to write.
So never be ashamed to write fanfiction, guys. It's honestly such a great thing and fanfiction writers should be respected everywhere!
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