#snippet prompt

[creweemmaeec11]

Reverse Tropes

Soulmates - Your soulmate is destined to be your greatest rival in life.

Amnesia - Instead of losing memories, they start getting memories that aren't theirs.

Forced Marriage - Forced Divorce.

Captured Prince - They think they've captured the prince of the opposing kingdom, but they've actually just captured a normal, random civilian.

Chosen one Prophesy - There is a prophecy about *someone* saving the world, but it doesn't actually say who...

Born with Special Marks - It's actually a mark that tells a person what they *won't* be good at.

True Loves Kiss - True Hates Kiss, good luck convincing someone who truly hates you to kiss you.

Love at First Sight - Hate at First Sight.

Rags to Riches - Riches to Rags

Found Family - You need to find your actual, related family.

Misunderstood Villain - Misunderstood hero. They are trying to be evil, why does everyone like them!?

It Was All a Dream - They thought it was a dream, but it turned out to all be real.

Secret Identity - The secret Identity is the one everyone knows, somehow, everyone has forgotten your normal identity...

Villain Defeated by Friendship - Villain defeated by hatred.

Bad Boy & Good Girl - Good boy and bad girl.

Stalking/Obsessive Love - Avoiding the person they like to try and ignore their feelings.

Monster x Hunter - Hunter x Hunter, both thinking the other is a monster, or Monster x Monster, both thinking the other is a hunter.

Hero Gets Framed - The wrong villain gets framed.

Yandere - but it's two going after each other.

[becomingthevlillainsfamily]

Hero x Villain

“They still send kids to fight their battles” hero’s eyes narrowed down with anger, barely shutting down the trauma etching to resurface, she stepped back, having a very good idea and experience of the events that would follow once you were caught, she couldn't prevent herself to break the rules, to break into the villain's lair. Her younger self knew that brainwashing was the worst but still it was second to torture, and so she promised to execute the plan, so that others wouldn't have to suffer from the agonizing things which would haunt them forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The grimy prison like warehouse, where the heroes in training were stacked up like commodities had left an irreparable impact on hero’s mind, and so here she was easily figuring out the prison in the villain’s lair. The grubby charred rods reminding her of the last torture ‘the others’ were subjected to, lowering down on knees witnessing the dim darkness covering her vision she whispered “No kids” only a bracelet she knew, the young trainee had the one she had given him. Various thoughts swirled in her mind, it had been years maybe the villains had changed their ways, their actions? Maybe they don’t lock the prisoners out here but where if not in this maze, her reasoning clogged up with indescribable thoughts soon chipped in with an alarm ringing in her head, forcing the hero to swipe a kick at the assailant, to send him off his footing. “I knew you would do this” the grip on hero’s ankle tightened as the now known figure pulled her ankle towards him, sending her off balance and on the ground, “Of all people” she gritted her teeth, the villain slowly closening the distance between them, his hand travelling up from her ankle to her knees, and slowly a bit up more “What do you think you are doing?” the unrestrained and unhesitant actions sending the hero in a frenzy, as she lodged a dagger out of her right boot and swung it at the villain’s neck, her wrist now in his grip. “You're portraying me as the villain.” the villain sobbed “You've never condemned actions like these before, so why now, darling?” the last word, sending shivers down the hero’s spine, as the villain threw away the dagger, trying to gain command over the situation over her strange reactions, over her now red neck and flaming cheeks as the hero reminisced about all of his previous actions, she shouted “Are you talking about those one sided actions of y-yours” it was hard to keep hold of the conversation and situation whenever she was facing him, as the hand slowly pulled up now both on each of her legs, the villain smirked, tilting his now near head towards the hero’s face, his eyes taking in every detail of the figure in front of him trembling, the now red cheeks and neck, he backed away instantly “Oh no” a twinge of sadness in the words, as he pulled his hands on his chest making a cross, “How could you think of such things?” the sudden pitiful act making the hero stand up on her legs, “What thoughts” she screamed, the accusator now audibly sobbing, she grabbed the shoulder of the guy in front of her, who easily fell back supporting his fallen figure with an arm and other over his mouth, sniffling again “Oh my” the hero flinched trying to pull back as a hand slinged behind her back and tugged her towards him, The grip on her waist remained firm as she noticed her left leg resting over his right, with the other kneeled on the ground. Gently stroking the corners of the hero's eyes, the villain whispered, 'Now' He carefully lifted the hero onto his raised leg, allowing her legs to dangle beautifully on either side, just as he liked. The hero trembled at the sensation of his breath against her face as he asked, 'Would you like to talk about the reason for your visit?'.

[writersbloxx]

Body Language

When someone is...

Sad

Face/Body:

Avoidant/reduced eye contact

Drooping eyelids

Downcast eyes

Frowning

Raised inner ends of eyebrows

Dropped or furrowed eyebrows

Quivering lip/biting lip

Wrinkled nose

Voice:

Soft pitch

Low lone

Pauses/hesitant speech

Quiet/breathy

Slow speech

Voice cracks/breaking voice

Gestures/Posture:

Slouching/lowered head

Rigid/tense posture

Half formed/slow movement

Fidgeting or clasped hands

Sniffing or heavy swallows

Self soothing gestures (running hands over the arms, hand over heart, holding face in palms, etc)

[creweemmaeec11]

"Awe, come on! I'll be gentle!"

"No!" The villain hugged it closer to their chest, "No way!"

"So you trust me enough to tell me about it but not enough to let me touch it?"

"What if you flew away with it?! What if you dropped it in a river or or-"

The hero cut them off with a soft chuckle, stepping closer to the villain as they did, "Why would I ever do that?" They asked with a smile.

The villain's back hit the wall behind them, still clutching the stone to their chest.The hero matched with another step of their own until the villain was practically pinned to the brick.

"Why?" The criminal asked quietly, voice shaking, "why do you even want to hold it?"

The fingers traced aimless shapes along the villain's sides, causing them to squirm, but they were unwilling to take their hands off the stone still held to their chest, which left them defenceless to stop the action. (Not that they necessarily wanted to)

"I like the idea of watching you squirm under my fingers," hero grinned, relishing the way the villain's face grew red, "Not that I need a pebble to do that anyway, but,"

Prompt #72

"You bound your life to...to a pebble?"

"I mean, I'd say it's more of a stone--"

"A pebble."

The villain flushed, clutching the item carefully to their chest. "Shut up, it was an accident: I didn't know what my powers did back then!"

A beat.

The hero considered them slowly, gaze flicking between the villain and their clasped hand. They were trusting them with this. Their nemesis trusting them with the knowledge of something so personal - so vital to them.

They took a step forward, curious. "So, if the rock gets damaged in any way--"

"It hurts," the villain confirmed. "And it's more than just that. If I leave it in a small space like a drawer then I feel claustrophobic. If I drop it or if something nudges against it then I feel that too. One time a friend held it without knowing what it was and I- I don't even know how to describe it but...it was, um, i-intense."

The hero took it all in with an eager nod, fingers twitching at their sides.

"So...can I touch it?" they asked.

The villain blinked up at them, eyes narrowing. "Wha-- No! No, you cannot just touch it!"

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The villain couldn’t help but stare at the hero.

They’d gotten thinner, the villain realized.

“Listen...” The villain brushed the hero’s chin with their fingers until they took it altogether. Slowly, they leaned forward, but the weary eyes didn't meet them. “Just let me help. Just let me say the words, let me do the evil monologue and join me.”

The hero brushed the villain’s wrist with their fingers.

“You’re fully aware that I cannot do that.”

“Come on.” The hero shot them a sharp look and for a second, the villain considered retreating. With a groan, the hero leaned against the wall. Ultimately, they sat down, clearly too tired to stand up. “This is eating you. This stupid job, this stupid costume. When was the last week all your bones were intact?”

“It’s not that simple,” the hero argued. They frowned and even that looked like it was draining. The villain tried to, but they didn't understand. They feared they would never be able to fully grasp what the hero was aiming for, nor why they were so adamant.

“It is that simple. Your obsession with justice is ludicrous," the villain said. "You know the law doesn't function as a guide for moral decisions."

"I can't just watch and let people die, can I?" the hero answered. Their fingertips against the villain's wrist were cold and very slowly, it dawned on the villain that they were shaking.

At first, the villain didn't say anything. They simply kneeled to be on the same eye level as their counterpart. Then, they took the hero's face into their hands.

"You also can't blame yourself every time someone dies." The villain leaned in, nearly instinctively, and lowered their voice. "Please, just come back to me."

Their lips brushed the hero's cheek and they closed their eyes, taking their time to concentrate on the proximity and calm down their racing heart. They didn't want to think about the past, they didn't want to think about the endless fights and the many tears. It was all gone now - right now, in this moment, resentment didn't linger.

All that remained was affection.

"Please," the villain begged again. By now, they were hugging their hero, holding them closer than ever before, taking in deep breaths and burying their face in the hero's shoulder. They could feel the hero's hand move; snaking up their back and eventually finding a place in the villain's hair.

It was unbelievably painful to hold the hero like this. It was unbelievably cruel as well. All the things they had thrown at each other before, all the insults and the schemes, all those plans and conflicts...still being able to hold so much love for a person felt specifically dreadful to the villain.

But then again, the hero wasn't simply a person. Once, they had been everything.

"Please come back to me," the villain begged again. "This is killing you. This job, it..."

They felt the tears.

God, they felt the tears. After months of pushing their feelings away and replacing them with rage. After months of suppressing their emotions, they could feel how heavy their heart truly was.

They pulled away, blinking tears out of their eyes, and stared at the hero who had already let their tears roll down their face. The villain brushed them away.

"It is so exhausting," the hero whispered. Their voice was shaking.

"I know."

"And it hurts so much."

"I know, darling."

"But I can't quit, I can't- I mean, there is so much pressure and so many people are counting on me and if I fall, I mean...I'm not a person anymore, I'm a symbol of hope and inspiration and if I...I can't, I just can't-" The hero took in a trembling breath and the villain hugged them again, softer this time.

"Take a break, please. I can't stand this anymore." The villain pressed a kiss to the hero's cheek and slowly, let their fingers intertwine. "I can kidnap you if that makes it easier."

"Yes," the hero said. "For a few days, okay? Just a few days."

Given the hero's physical state, a few days turned into two weeks.

[chaotic-orphan]

Concussed villain gets kidnapped?

Villain showed up on Hero’s doorstep, heaving in breaths as they slammed their fist on the door. Their arm was ridiculously heavy, and it took everything in them to throw it mercilessly against the wooden door. The effects were meagre knocks that Villain prayed Hero would hear.

If Hero was even home.

What if they were working tonight? Fuck, why didn’t Villain think of that? Their head was pounding so they rested their forehead against the cool wood, letting out a shaky, shallow breath, trying not to anger the fire in their ribs. Blood continued to trickle from their hairline down over their eyes and dripping onto their cheeks.

That wasn’t good.

They heard footsteps behind the door and Villain almost broke down there and then, relief flooding them like a tsunami of feeling, washing away everything that was keeping Villain upright. Tears poured down their cheeks at the thought of safety, hero looking after them… their hero. They could tell them about Superhero’s plans.

They could tell them… Villain put a hand against the door and pushed themselves backwards. They would’ve fallen if not for the arm that snaked around their waist. Villain blinked dumbly and glanced down. Arm around—?

Before they cry out or scream in warning a hand clamped over their mouth and Villain was ripped away from the door and into the shadows. Villain thrashed, struggling in their attacker’s grip, all their screams and cries muffled to nothing but silent pleas.

The door opened and Villain’s struggles renewed but Hero wouldn’t be able to see them from here. Hero wouldn’t know they were even there!

“Hello?” Hero asked into the darkness and Villain whimpered against the hands holding them in an iron cage. Villain threw their body forward, back, trying to dislodge their attackers arms but they didn’t budge even a little.

“If you want Hero to continue to draw breath, Villain, you’ll come quietly.”

Villain froze at the voice. That was… Superhero… the reason why Villain was in this state in the first place. Villain’s struggles renewed as Hero stepped out of their house. If they could even sense something was amiss so close to them then they would investigate. Hero would have to investigate, right? And Hero was in danger too!

Villain had to warn them, they had to!

“Hello?” Hero asked, a note of agitation creeping into their voice.

I’m here! Villain wanted to scream. Hero please! I’m right here.

A pinch in their neck and Villain’s fruitless struggles seized, their blood running cold. They flinched as cold liquid was pushed into their neck. No… no, no, no, no. “That’s it, Villain,” Superhero whispered. “Don’t fight it.”

The hazy world blurred even more and Villain fell back against Superhero’s chest, the fight leaving them almost instantly. What did Superhero drug them with?

Their eyelids shut and Villain forced them back open, with a gargantuan effort. The last thing they saw was Hero frown and close the door before their entire world faded to black in the arms of their enemy.

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[hurtwithallthecomfort]

Whumper had been wronged. Badly. Betrayed by an ally, captured, left for dead. When they got out, barely alive, they were beyond furious, and they wanted nothing but revenge. And so, once they recovered, they would go out to bring justice to the person who hurt them so horrifically: Whumpee.

Problem is, Whumpee didn’t actually do anything. They might have been framed, or happened to be in the wrong place. Or, maybe they did hurt Whumper, but they were being brainwashed, manipulated, or forced and threatened into it. Either way, Whumper’s going after the wrong person here, but they can’t say anything about it. Perhaps they’re protecting the real culprit, perhaps Whumper won’t let them speak, or perhaps they think they deserve it despite the circumstances. So, the suffering continues on, for an agonisingly long time.

And then, Whumper realises the truth. They find the real culprit, find some evidence that proves Whumpee’s innocence, or find proof of what happened to Whumpee before. And they’re sick to their stomach. Nausea doesn’t even describe it. Everything they had done was to an innocent bystander at best, and another victim of the real traitor at worst.

[backtothefanfiction]

Joaquin x Reader Random Dialogue Prompts

I have a whole load of dialogue prompts saved on Pinterest and was looking to bounce off one but ended up just coming up with this instead.

SNIPPETS OF CONVERSATIONS

Y/n: if you do that again I’ll throw you out that fucking window you- what are you doing?

Joaquin: Checking how high the drop is. See if it’s worth it.

——————————————

Joaquin stands in the door way watching as Y/N checks their hair in the mirror just before an important undercover mission.

Joaquin: It looks fine, don’t worry about it.

Y/N: I wasn’t worried about it… I am now.

——————————————

Joaquin: you know, I’ve always found your voice to have a calming affect on me.

Y/N: what? What the actual FUCK!

Sam: Dude? She is literally always shouting at you.

——————————————

Y/N: I swear to God Torres, if you put that song on one more time!

Joaquin: what? It’s my work out song. It’s the only thing that gets me pumped up.

Y/N: You’ve literally played it 10 times already.

Joaquin: So…

Y/N: *groans

——————————————

Joaquin and Y/N getting ready to spar in the training room

Joaquin: why are you smiling at me like that?

Y/N: because I’ve been waiting all week to kick you ass.

Sam: oh this is gonna be fun.

——————————————

Joaquin: I hate you.

Y/N: you don’t mean that.

Joaquin: well right now I do.

Sam: what happened?

Y/N: I ate his last pop-

Joaquin: she ate my last fucking pop tart.

——————————————

Let me know if you’d be interested in anymore of these.

[withdrawingramen]

i think shame & its manifestations in whump is not talked about enough. like i love when whumpee is physically unable to tell caretaker about all they went through, not only because it is insanely distressing to relive but also because it's humiliating. 'how can someone be so cruel?' is another question, but we're also talking 'how did i let that happen to myself?' from whumpee's perspective. often times post something traumatizing whumpees develop this deep-seated feeling of hopelessness & helplessness & misguided anger which is just in sweet words not cool

because think about it, the whumpee could not stop anything from happening to them. there's always this notion of having to stand up for yourself, but whumpee didn't even get the chance to. who should you be angry at? whumper? the system? yourself?

the fact that it happened is so terribly real and if paired with the conditioning of whumper & possible victim blaming, the shame eventually turns into this twisted form of denial, where whumpee is unable to confront the fact that they were hurt so bad and it just turns into oh my god i hate that it happened to me. i want to erase that it all happened. i wish i could live just one day forgetting it all and wake up thinking what was i so stressed about? i wish i could walk past whumper and think 'who were they again'? nobody should know about this because i cant deal with it myself and i don't know what i'll do if it all goes out

yk what im talking abt?

[creweemmaeec11]

Why is asking permission for certain things, both romantic and platonic, one of the cutest, most heart-fluttering things ever?

"Can I hold your hand?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Would you like me to carry your jacket?"

"Can I hug you?"

"Would it be alright if we cuddled?"

"Can I play with your hair?"

"Might I walk you home?"

"Can I tickle you?

"Is it okay if I kiss you goodbye?"

"Can I hold onto your arm while we walk?"

"Can I rest my head on your shoulder?"

"Is it okay if I call you (nickname)?"

"I'd really like to kiss you right now, if that's okay with you,"

"Would you let me take care of you?"

[becomingthevlillainsfamily]

It's not love (Hero x Villain)

What is love?

The hero had no idea, and maybe she would never, but for all she knew and could explain, was that if the man in front of her were to push her off this cliff, the only thing in her mind would be his hand on her body, until she succumbed to death. For all the times she knew, he was the reason for craziness involved in her feelings, at first she was called crazy for her enigmatic passion for the villain, to catch him alive and throw him in the prison, and now she was called a maniac for her indecipherable love for him. If she were to be honest, how she fell in love with him, was the biggest mystery for both her and the rest of the world, and maybe she hoped him?

“Oh my” the villain chuckled, taking in her stoic expression, would she still be like that if he was to push hero off this cliff, to her death, maybe she would be surprised, or she would grasp his collar and pull him off together, and surprisingly he wouldn’t mind it too. “This is Stockholm syndrome” he reminded himself, knowing how stupid his theory sounded, being locked up in the prison for less than three hours, and on your own accord doesn’t give you Stockholm syndrome, the only thing it gives is a stupid delusional gossip to people, he did enjoy reading the fanfics made on him and her though….but ‘This isn’t love’ getting into a thoughtful mode and checking her expression again he muttered ‘No one loves their nemesis’, contemplating on some serious disease he might have for his current actions, he walked towards her, part unknowingly? And part to get near her. The hero stepped back probably surprised at the closened distance between them and her crush's light footsteps gliding him towards her, slowly…slowly…Nope..too close….a slight misstep and surprise led to hero sloping back off the cliff, when the villain caught her immediately, his hand tightening on her waist….he enjoyed his hands on her, though they were falling ‘This isn’t bad, but still it’s not love’.

[writersbloxx]

Body Language

When someone is…

Nervous/Anxious

Face:

Darting eyes/avoiding eye contact

Rapid blinking

Tense jaw

Looking upwards when talking or fixing eyes on a more distant point

Furrowed (or raised) brows

Frowning

Blushing 

Micro-expressions- quick/short facial expressions like suddenly widening their eyes or a brief grimace

Voice:

Shaky or trembling

Higher pitch or thin

Breathy

Wavering

Raspy or slightly cracked

Hesitant

Speaking quickly or stuttering

Choppy (many pauses in speech)

Shorter, clipped words (staccato)

Gestures/Posture:

Tense, closed off stance

Hunched shoulders

Body is stiffened

Crossed arms

Fidgeting

Touching clothes

Cracking knuckles

Bouncing knee

Subtly covering their mouth

[lux-aurea-lunae]

Prompt 27 - Living Together

Hero doesn’t know how it happened, but Villain moved in with them.

Actually, scratch that. They knew exactly how it happened.

Villain found out where they lived, and decided to wait for them there. In the time it had taken Hero to finish up their shift and head home, they had gotten bored and explored Hero’s apartment. Hero was unamused to find they had helped themself to their food, but let it go.

From there, it escalated.

Villain would randomly show up, eat Hero’s food, and sometimes crash on their bed. Aside from the danger of a villain knowing where they lived, Hero found that they didn’t really mind Villain being there. Hero was rarely home anyway.

Then Villain started leaving some of their things at Hero’s place, until the apartment was more full of Villain’s stuff than Hero’s.

“What are you doing?”

Hero wasn’t even surprised to see Villain laying on their couch when they wandered into their living room. “I’ve still got some paperwork to finish up. I’m sure you can entertain yourself for a bit longer.” Hero sighed.

“What paperwork? Can I see?” Villain’s eyes practically sparkled with intrigue.

“No, it’s classified. Why would I show you?”

“We live together.”

“We do not live together.”

“We do now. Also since your apartment only has one bed, we’re sharing that, too. You’re the little spoon. This is non negotiable.”

Hero sighed again, wisely choosing to accept their fate. “What do you want for dinner?” they asked, setting the pile of paper down on their coffee table.

“You let me move in and you’ll cook anything I want? What would your coworkers think if they found out you let yourself be bossed around by a villain?”

Hero threw a dish towel at their face, which did little to muffle their laughter.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"I saw you on TV," the villain said. They stared down at the hero. The hero they had bound to one of the incredibly old machines in the warehouse, the hero who had daringly followed them right into a trap. "It was quite...interesting. If I am allowed to say that."

"Interesting how?" they asked but didn't meet the villain's eyes. Surely, the responsibilities the hero had to bear were crushing them and the villain, despite their absolute distaste for people who pretended to be saviors, was fascinated by the true devotion the hero offered. To everyone.

"You looked like a prophet almost. With your heroic speech, your kind words. My god, you almost convinced me that humanity is inherently good. And with all those people around you? It’s a miracle no one tried to jump on top of you and give themselves voluntarily to our saviour."

"You mean the charity event?" The hero sighed and closed their eyes. "Yeah, I told the organizers it was stupid to do it in a public space. People were there for me, not the charity."

"Did it help, though? Was there a lot of money coming in?" The hero raised a suspicious eyebrow and frowned softly.

"Not really. Not until the anonymous donation." The villain couldn't help but be amused by that. That mysterious donation had certainly provided quite a sum.

"You're unhappy?"

"I'm not exactly...satisfied with my work. I wanted to prove to people that it’s not me who stands for goodness, but that goodness is within everyone. I know that’s cheesy, but…" They took another breath in and the villain was disappointed by themselves for feeling sorry for the hero.

"You feel like an object?" The villain leaned forward. They were tempted to touch the hero’s wrist or maybe even their jawline. But they refrained. They had known each other for a while now, but that wasn’t an excuse to do as they pleased.

Especially when the hero wasn’t in a position to move away.

The problem was: the villain liked the hero. A lot. A bit too much. They weren’t obsessed, they weren’t greedy when it came to the hero, but they had fallen in love a long time ago and it wasn’t exactly easy to get rid of.

They had tried, but they were too attached to their enemy.

"…yeah. I know that sort of comes with the job. People say…inappropriate things about me and I know people who idolise me can be…a lot sometimes."

"Have you ever been harmed by a fan? Touched?"

"…a few times, yeah. I mostly brushed it off." The hero pursed their lips. And the villain’s eyes widened. "I try not to think about it."

"Do you know who…?"

"If I told you, that person would be dead by tomorrow." Wrong, they’d be dead in a few hours, but alright. The villain understood that reasoning. They understood the hero would protect citizens at all costs. "And I also don’t know them."

They stared at each other.

"So…how can I help protect you, then?" the villain asked. They shifted a little, unsure what they expected as answer.

"What?"

"How can I help protect you?"

"Oh…uh…" The hero laughed awkwardly.

"I can hire someone, if you-"

"A hero who needs a bodyguard is a little pathetic, don’t you think?" the hero asked. The villain watched them swallow. They looked a little pale.

"Even if it’s me?"

"You’re being serious about this?"

"I could…ignore my usual activities for your social events and make sure you can preach all your horrible goodness," the villain suggested. They shrugged but still blushed horribly.

"Wha-why?"

"Yes or no? You have three seconds to decide. Three, two-"

"Alright, fine." The hero laughed and this time, they seemed actually happy. "I’ll see you on Monday, then."

"Good." The villain left immediately and tried to ignore their enemy as best as they could.

In the end, the hero had to get out of the trap all by themselves.

[kaiwewi]

tw: nsfw (could be consensual kink or noncon. whatever best floats y'all's boats)

"Shivering in anticipation, are you? Cute."

The villain threw one of those poison-sweet smirks their way as they circled behind the chair the protagonist was strapped to, bound and gagged.

"What was it again? Something, something, fear and arousal."

The villain stopped right behind them, looming, out of sight.

"Such a thin line indeed."

The villain leaned in until their breath fanned warm against the protagonist's cheek. Gentle hands touched down on their shoulders, caressed down their shackled arms.

"Like the one between hatred and love."

Soft lips brushed the shell of their ear. The villain's voice had dropped to a saccharine whisper. It made them shudder anew.

"Disgust and desire."

A kiss to their temple.

"Punishment and reward."

A nip of teeth on their neck, teasing.

"Pain and pleasure."

The sudden bite of the villain's sharp nails digging into their forearms.

They made an embarrassing sound in response, somewhere between a scoff and a whimper. The villain chuckled.

"Horror," the villain murmured, reverential, as if uttering a prayer, against the crook of the protagonist's neck, "and holiness."

Throughout the rest of the night, the villain demonstrated, by means of tongue, lips, teeth, and fingertips, just how thin a line there could be between sacrilege and worship.

___

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