#villain hero

[avvail]

a villain that can hypnotise people through touch

The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.

“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.

“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”

“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”

The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”

“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”

The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.

“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”

The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.

“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”

“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”

“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”

The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”

“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”

The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”

“Then I come to you.”

“Stay away.”

The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.

“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”

“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.

“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”

It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.

“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

The hero obediently follows them along.

[ownlittleuniverse]

scenario #1 - the hero’s lover

—

“Love, why don’t you come to bed?”

The hero had been up for hours, way into the night racking their brain and trying desperately to find the villains identity. Their lover was becoming a bit worried with this obsession taking over their sleep.

“No, not until I figure out who the hell they are,” they snapped, their voice breaking.

Their lover could only sigh at their hero’s determination. It was their best trait and worst flaw.

“It’s not worth your health, my love,” their lover soothed.

Their lover walked over to the hero slumped over their desk, their whole body exuding exhaustion. They crouched down and took the hero’s face between their hands, caressing their cheeks. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their lover didn’t know if it was from their lack of sleep or from their tears. Their hero looked so tired.

“The villain is still out there, you’ll find them, okay?”

The hero only nodded, sniffing a bit. They wrapped their arms around their lovers neck. Their lover chuckled into their hero’s neck.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Their lover carried their exhausted hero with care, keeping them close to their body and listening to the hero’s even breathing. They were already out.

Their lover walked them over and placed them gently in their bed, kissing them on the forehead and wrapping them up in warm wool blankets. They climbed into the covers as the hero subconsciously pulled their lover close.

“Goodnight, love you,” the hero murmured into their lover's skin.

“Love you.”

They turned off the bedside light, pulled the blanket over both their bodies, wrapping their own over their dear hero’s exhausted one. The hero clung to them, and the villain could only smile into their hair.

They couldn’t help but admire their hero’s determination, and chuckle at their clear obliviousness. If they simply looked past the obvious, they would see that the person they cling to every night was the one they were after.

[writingpromptsworld]

Prompt #69

By @writingpromptsworld

“Oh, come on, you can’t be putting handcuffs on me right after we had our first kiss!” The villain whined, struggling against the metal bracelets.

The hero tightened their grip on the villain’s wrists. “Only a distraction, sweetheart.” They chuckled.

The villain rolled their eyes, scoffing. “Don’t lie. I know you liked it.” They clenched their jaw, feeling a little worked up.

“Maybe.” The hero smirked teasingly.

The villain groaned. They were so fucked. They tried again. “Not even a little?” They asked in a quieter voice, aiming to get even a bit of the hero’s soft side. But, really, they wanted to know.

The hero grinned, seeing through their words. They shrugged, not giving anything away, the grin only widening on their lips.

The villain huffed, as they were gently pushed into the back of the hero’s car. “You’re so cruel.” They mumbled, slightly pouting.

The hero got in and winked, charming as always, and took off.

[automeris-io-moth]

Blood inheritance

When Hero was fifteen, they were still prideful of their family name, star-eyed and a young prodigy awaiting for what was to come, what their last name could provide for them. Hero did only knew how safety and comfort felt like. 

Not much later whispers started to travel the hallways, and those who visited their Parent for business were each time less careful to keep their matters out of earshot, out of sight, and some shadows, when perhaps it was too late for them to wander the house alone, they could spot underneath the closed doors. 

On their nineteenth birthday, Hero cried hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing their hands raw, cutting their nails so short it burned for the blood would not leave from underneath them. 

A year later, Hero left. 

And for a while they were comfortable living in their makeshift peace, entering the public eye as a Hero, thinking that, perhaps, enough rights would undo a wrong, living modestly, anonymously and quietly as much as their profession would allow. 

Until Villain unmasked them on national television. 

So there Hero stood, before the throne only an ego as big as their opponent would think of making in the middle of their quarters, with their hands shaking but their chin held high, meeting the other’s eyes, eyes filled with curiosity, with amusement to the situation. Hero was at a clear disadvantage, yet they seemed so determined. 

“You owe me,” Hero spoke first, breaking the silence with a declaration so filled with confidence, they felt it spill through their mouth to never return. 

Villain lifted a brow, leaning forwards in their seat. 

“You may want to change the way you speak to me if you’re lookin to get something out of here,” they answered, voice echoing through the walls of the room “I am already not that eager to help you in any way.”

Hero took a step forward, henchmen lifting their weapons before Villain ordered them to put them down. 

“You ruined everything I've worked for these last couple years. I demand protection,” 

“My protection?” Villain laughed, “Why would I ever…?” 

“Because if I go down, I will make damn sure you go down with me,” Hero answered, spitting out their words, louder that they meant, nothing that they regretted “you have no idea of what you’ve done, and if you think for a moment I won’t take any chance I have to ruin you, you would be wrong.” 

Villain leaned back again, silent for a moment.

They were egocentric, the reach of their power and mind had allowed it, but they were in no way delusional, Hero was a worthy opponent, their skill was undeniable and sometimes, Villain thought, the only thing stopping them from crossing a very clear line was their set of morals and rules, carved in stone. 

Something was up to make them waver. 

Something scared them, more than the mere fact of their identity being out in the open.

“Why do you want protection? You seem pretty capable of taking care of yourself.” 

Hero sighed. 

“I won’t tell you a thing until you swear protection to me.” 

“Not like you’re leaving me any other choice, are you?” they answered with sarcasm “I will only do it after you tell me what this protection is against.” 

“Afraid of whatever it could be?” 

“Just careful.” 

Hero took their mask off, throwing it to the throne. 

“Supervillian has been after me for a while now,” Hero answered “until you took my mask off on national tv I managed to hide pretty well, the Twilight told me they had no idea where I was, but of course, now they know my fake identity, it’s a matter of time until they get to me.” 

“Supervillian?” Villain questioned “they haven’t made an appearance in years, why would I believe they’re following what’s practically a rookie.” 

“Because I’m their child,” 

“Oh.”

_

Masterlist

I'm back, exams are over for now and I finally have time to exist outside of uni.

I gonna be working in the requests this week, the parts 2 and all that, thank you for your patience :)

[tropesaregoodsoup]

Pleasant Dream

CW: Mention of noncon drugging

Whumpee was sitting somewhere they hadn’t been in a long time. A expansive green field with splotches of color from curated gardens and wildflowers alike. They knew without looking their cottage was behind, and inside was caretaker, something else they had spent too long away from. But caretaker would be out with them soon, sitting on the grass, taking in the sun, the brightness, the warmth-

A feeling of ice washed over everything, and Whumpee was transported to a dark room. With loud harsh words pelted in their ringing ears. 

“Where is Superhero hiding!” 

They felt awful, exhausted and as they tried to get their bearings they realized they were tied down to a chair. A punch sent their head spinning, knocking them out of their initial panic and sending memories flooding back in. 

“Come on,” a rough hand grabbed their face, forcing them to look at the henchmen. They were still reeling from the harsh wake up call and it was all they could do to mumble a small ‘let go’, before being shoved back down. “You know how this works, 30 minutes, tell us or we go again.” Their body responded first, breath got faster, tears formed at the edges of their eyes and their heart was pounding against their chest. Then their mind caught up, kidnapped, beaten within an inch of their life, and when that didn’t work, hallucinations. Some devilish concoction that started with a bad trip and ended with a euphoric dream-state. A leather syringe case had three inserts empty now. The combination of sleep deprivation, starvation, and dehydration were not helping, and only getting worse over the last two days. 

“I don’t- I can’t” Their words came out slurred and mumbled. They were too drained to even brace as another punch connected, this time it was a hit to the stomach, causing them to double forward in an attempt to catch their breath. “Please st-” They waited for the next barrage of hits when a door opened.

“Villain wants to see them.” The voice from the door was matter-of-fact, they heard footsteps enter the room and managed to push themself upright in the chair to see another broadbuilt henchmen. 

“No…” Their words faded as they pulled away, and even the small movement had their head spinning. This did nothing to deter the henchmen as he unstrapped Whumpee from the chair. He tried to prop Whumpee up so they could walk, but it was quickly apparent that wasn’t going to happen, so instead, the henchmen opted to toss Whumpee over his shoulder. The compound might as well have been a maze, the delirium blurring the twists and turns of hallways and doors together. 

They ended up plopped down on a hard floor. Maybe stone. They couldn’t fight it anymore, couldn’t get up and try to escape before the door closed. Couldn’t tell them where Superhero was, even if they knew. Couldn’t stop the soft nudges in their side that felt like blunt needles. The only thing they could do was cry. 

“Alright, let's get you cleaned up.” 

The voice was gentle, and it made Whumpee cry. After so long without any semblance of caring hands or nice words, they could have filled up a pool.

They didn’t make any attempt to stop Villain as he started cleaning their wounds with a warm rag, starting with their face and neck. They put up a small resistance when Villain reached for their shirt, but soft touches, comforting words, and a week of pain, won out. Villain didn’t seem fazed by the plethora of long healed scars under the cuts and bruises inflicted by his own people, he just cleaned the fresh wounds.

 “We’ll have to talk about these runes at some point.” 

It was the only remark Villain made, besides waking Whumpee up whenever they fell asleep. They were so tired after all, and the rag was nice and warm, and the bandages stopped the harsh air from hitting their open wounds, and…

“Whumpee. Wake up Whumpee.” 

They didn’t need any help staying away once he started to stitch close the gashes along their arms and legs and back and torso. They would have thrashed, they would have hit and yelled and scratched and fought. If only they could, but everything was piling on and they could barely manage a groan. Whumpee couldn’t help but notice, after the stitches were done, that Villain was kinder than they thought he would be. He wasn’t particularly gentle when cleaning the wounds, but he was careful, better than the people that had ‘helped’ them in the past. It was surprising really, to think that the hands that had turned villages to ash in mere seconds were stitching wounds and applying bandages with such precision. He even gave them water and Whumpee drank greedily, only stopping when the bottle was empty. They were still in agonizing pain, but this was better than anything they’d had in the week they’d been here. Villain just stared at them and Whumpee felt their pulse leap as the question left his lips.

“So… Where is Superhero?”

They tried to drag their body away, easier now that their wounds had been treated and they had some water, but Villain had placed them in a corner of the room, there was nowhere to go. Fear took over as they started stuttering and fumbling over their words, giving more excuses, attempts at explanations.

“I- I can’t- I” A groan cut off their words. Their breaths were ragged, each one causing more pain, they could tell they weren’t ripping open any of the stitches at least, the blood would be visible past the bandages since they still hadn’t gotten their shirt back. “Please, d-don’t hurt me. I can’t- I’m sorry. Please. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” Whumpee was reduced to sobbing through jumbled words again, but Villain didn’t change their questioning expression.

“Can’t? Not won’t?” Villain reached out only to have Whumpee flinch away with more pleas. “That is an interesting distinction. Now come here, I’m not going to hurt you.” His words were sincere, although less gentle than when Whumpee was dropped on his floor. He reached out again, ignoring the flinch this time, and Whumpee was turned to face the wall as Villain inspected the intricate rune splayed across their back.

“I did say you and I were going to talk about these. Talk.” 

Whumpee was just relieved to hear a different question, even if it was still impossible to answer, even if it was through stuttered, slurred words.

“I c-can’t.” They tried not to think about the long and painful process of so many runes shoved into such a small space. Just one of the many marks across their body to remind them of their time with the Hero and her posse. 

“You can’t talk about the runes?”

Whumpee just shook their head, even after the care Villain had given them, talking was still an effort. 

“These runes stop you from talking about Superhero too then?”

A nod.

“And these scars?” Whumpee shuddered as Villain dragged a hand over the largest one, a jagged scar that dragged diagonally across their back from waist to shoulder. There was a pause before Whumpee could answer.

“They um… They w-wanted to make sure I-I told them everything.” More memories jamming their way to the forefront of Whumpee’s tired mind. Some heroes they were. 

“Mmm…” Villain contemplated. “If I removed this rune, you would be able to tell me where Superhero is.” Whumpee was filled with an odd mix of dread and hopefulness, it wasn't a question, but Whumpee still responded.

“Yes.” It was broken and whispy, but it seemed to be the right answer.

“Okay then.” Villain got up, pulling Whumpee with him. They just slumped against Villain, still unable to stand, and darkness hiding the edges of their vision. “I need a clear view of the rune for this to work, so you will need to sit over there.” Villain pointed to what looked like a crossover of a bench and an easel. “But first I need to know what the rune does. Think you can manage that?” But Whumpee could barely manage nodding. The emotions were washing over them in confusing waves, and their vision went completely dark before gravity shifted and exhaustion finally took them.

Pt.2

[miaowmelodie]

Does anyone know if there's a tag for the love interest traitor on AO3?

I'm looking for the trope where the villain tricks their hero into falling in love with them for evil purposes (or vice versa, a hero doing that kind of cruelty would be amazing angst-wise) but ends up realizing they love them back after they broke hero's heart.

I remember reading a fanfic like that (it wasn't hero x villain but the trope's the same) on Wattpad in a Mycroft x Lestrade fic years ago and I was wondering if there were more like that.

[moodyvoid]

DEADPOOL MAKING A DABI REFERENCE

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Of the 19 hijackers who carried out the Sept 11 attacks:

15 were from Saudi Arabia (a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

2 were from the United Arab Emirates (also a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

1 was from Egypt, 1 from Lebanon.

None of the hijackers were from Iraq.

None of the Sept 11 hijackers were Iraqi.

None of the 9/11 hijackers were from Iraq.

[aphel1on]

i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good

[charlotlie]

bitches be like “this is the best piece of literature i have ever read” and it’s either a book that took them six weeks to finish or a fanfic they read at 3 AM

[avvail]

prompt #103

“How was I supposed to know you loved me?”

The villain raised an arched brow at them in disbelief. “It was obvious.”

“You threw me off a fifteen story building the other week alone.”

“In the name of love.”

[ownlittleuniverse]

snippet #3 - the hero’s getting prepared for a ball

warning: touchy villain (not nsfw), suggestive

The hero felt overwhelmed by the number of hands on their body.

Their head was being pulled back and forth, over and over. Their hair was being tightly braided and brushed into a perfect slick bun. The hero opened their mouth as their lips were being painted blood red by the maids, as well as their nails. Small pearls, black and white delicate flowers with sharp thorns were sewn in their hair like the maids were creating an expensive bouquet.

“You're messing up your lipstick,” one of them said, yanking the hero’s chin and preparing their small brush once again, “Open up.”

The maid swiped over the hero’s lips until the spot was no longer visible. The hero hadn’t realized they were biting the skin.

The hero tried not to flinch when a maid started tightening their corset to an unbelievable degree. It felt like their ribs were being pressed against their organs, like walls were closing in from all ends. Another sharp tug at the corset made the hero gasp. They heard an annoyed sigh. They looked towards the sound and realized they clenched their hands in the maid’s who were painting their nails, messing up the paint job. The maid looked at them with clear malice they were not trying hard to suppress. The made wiped the smudged polish off to start over.

“I’m sorry,” the hero whispered.

They felt like they were messing everything up.

One maid tightened on a black lace choker with small pearls around their neck, pulling it so tight it felt like someone was wrapping their hand around the delicate skin as another maid slipped matching fingerless lace long gloves onto their arms.

After what felt like an eternity of chaos, the maids finally stepped back. The hero took in their appearance.

Their gown flowed to the floor with black and white lace hugging their curves in the right places, small but bold flower patterns all over the dress matching their accessories and hair. The plunging neckline went all the way down to the center of their chest, its edges covered in pearls, thorns and petals.

The maids all smiled at the hero’s regal appearance, but the hero couldn’t bring themselves to do the same.

They didn’t look like themselves anymore.

The hero flinched at the sound of the door opening.

They sucked in a breath as the villain entered. They were in a matching perfectly tailored black suit, their hands covered in black gloves, their gaze cutting through the room like a blade. They looked elegant and menacing all in one.

The hero gulped, keeping their head down as the villain made their way over, their steps echoing across the tension-filled silent room. The hero tried to suppress their growing nerves that started eating away at their body, needing their fingers together, picking at their exposed hangnails.

The maids frantically backed away from the hero. No. No. No. The hero tried to telepathically tell them to come back, not leave them so exposed in front of the tall dark god. The villain’s stare made the hero feel like they were stripping them down to nothing but their skin.

The hero's breath hitched as they felt the villain come right behind their body, their breath tickling their ear. The hero wanted to ignore them so badly, but that would be completely impossible. The villain was not to be ignored.

The hero finally lifted their head and flinched when they made direct eye contact with the villain’s glare in the mirror. The villain kept their hands in their pocket but it felt like their hands were caressing the hero’s waist, making them shiver and their heart beat erratically just from that look they were giving them. Like they could eat them for dinner.

Their voice commanded the room like the creature of power they were.

“Leave us.”

The hero rolled their lips and watched with beading eyes all the maids quickly scurrying out, keeping their heads down.

No. No. Please. Please stay. Don’t leave them alone.

As soon as the door shut the hero’s shoulders tightened with even more fear. The villain's hands came up to the hero’s waist, softly caressing the bodice of their corset. The hero flinched violently.

“You look exquisite,” the villain cooed in the hero’s ear, making them shiver, “But darling, why are you so upset?”

“I-I’m not..” the hero whispered in a tone that wasn’t even convincing to them.

The villain's hands tightened, causing a whimper to escape the hero’s mouth. They hated themselves for it.

“Now, I know my little hero,” they murmured, smiling against the hero’s neck, “I know when they’re not happy, and-“ they ran their hands higher and higher, “I know what their lies sound like.”

The hero made eye contact with them once again in the mirror, the villain's eyes pouring into theirs willing them to open up. After a few beats of silence, the villain dug their fingers ever so slightly. The hero’s heartbeat spiked at the villain’s warning.

“I just…” the hero blurted out, “Everything feels so… uncomfortable—But everyone put so much effort into how I look, and I do look good… but-I.. I feel so ungrateful saying that…I’m sorry,” they murmured looking back down at their feet.

They felt a tear trickle down their cheek. They felt like such a spoiled brat not being appreciative of the time and effort it took to make them look like a beautiful art piece. They are grateful, they just… didn’t feel happy.

The villain didn’t say anything for a moment. The hero made them angry. The villain was definitely going to-

But all they felt was the pressure on their scalp beginning to release.

They looked up at the mirror and saw the villain slowly taking all the intricate accessories out of their hair, making their head feel ten times lighter than before. The villain took out most of the flowers, and let the hero’s hair cascade down their back. It felt so good, so releasing, not having that weight. The hero couldn't have imagined wearing that hair all night, it ripping at their scalp.

“I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, my love,” the villain whispered as they began to take the tight braids out, “You look breathtaking with and without all of this.”

The hero hated how they blushed at the villain’s words, how they knew exactly what to say to make the hero feel all warm when the fear still clawed inside like a bouquet of knife-sharp icicles.

The villain delicately brushed the hero’s running tears away with their gloved finger. The hero couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the villain took a brush from the vanity and began to brush the hero’s hair out. The villain kissed the shell of their ear, making their hero whimper.

“You're a masterpiece, through and through.”

The villain smiled at their hero turning the color of their lipstick.

The villain began to massage their scalp with one hand and brush their hair out with another, making the hero sigh contently, their eyes closing from the pleasure. They let themselves sink into the feeling. It felt… so amazing. They wished it didn’t, they really did.

The villain slowly walked around the hero’s body, never letting go of their hair or scalp once. They watched in contentment as their hero’s eyes fluttered behind their eyelids in pleasure, not being able to resist submitting to the feelings the villain was giving them. They loved having that control over their hero. Their little plaything.

The villain took a small cloth from the vanity and began to wipe some of the hero’s makeup off. The hero’s eyes shot open in confusion, but the villain's one hand trailing down and massaging the knots in their neck made their eyes slowly close again. Their hero sighed in contentment.

The villain was completely obsessed with how their touch could turn their hero into a submissive thing at their feet. How they knew if they trailed their hand and tugged on their little choker that their hero would let out a moan they couldn’t suppress.

They knew them better than they knew themselves.

“I'll have to kill all the people who look past your neck,” the villain laughed. They wouldn’t hesitate to torture anyone for weeks on end who dared to look at their hero in a way that only they could. At the perfect skin that trailed down to their chest that the villain couldn't wait to taste.

The hero’s eyes slowly opened back up as they sighed, looking at the villain. But the hero’s worried face didn’t fade.

“What is it, darling?” the villain cooed.

“I-…”

The villain watched as their hero looked down in embarrassment, a faint rosy blush covering their cheeks.

”Can you undo my corset, just a bit..” they whispered, “It’s a bit too tight.”

The villain smiled. They loved the idea of undoing their hero’s corset.

“Of course I can.”

If they didn’t have a ball to attend, the villain would rip the whole thing off.

The villain tugged at the hero’s choker which, as they perfectly predicted, made their hero moan deliciously. That neck of theirs was so sensitive, they could barely hold themselves back from wrapping their hand around the skin and leaving their mark. They couldn’t wait to memorize every single sensitive place to touch to make their hero’s body writhe. The villain stepped back behind the hero and slowly undid their corset.

The hero didn’t know what to feel about the villain anymore.

They felt safe in their presence, protected and sheltered, but they also knew the villain’s power was something they abused. If they wanted to make the hero kneel for them, completely submit to them, they would. If they decided the hero was being ungrateful, then they were. If the villain wanted to hurt the hero, they could rip them in two with little to no effort. It scared them. But the villain has only been delicate, sweet, and soft with the hero and only the hero. Somehow, that scared them even more.

The hero gasped and their eyes closed at a sudden feeling, they curled their fists into the gown’s skirt. The villain's hand was gripping the hero’s waist as they pulled and pulled at the threads.

The hero’s heartbeat picked up. This felt different than the maids doing the same. The maids loosening and tightening their threads felt like life was being squeezed out of them, like they were a bug being squished between a shoe and the concrete. But when the villain did it… it felt like being wrapped in an all-consuming embrace. It felt like a word starting with L that the villain definitely cannot feel.

The villain’s hand pressed into their back causing the hero to involuntarily arch. Their fingers curled as they tried so hard to suppress their sounds, but the hero couldn’t help but let out another breathless small moan, their eyes clenching. They felt like they lost complete control of their body. It should make them feel scared, horrible, but they just wanted more.

The villain smiled at their reflection in the mirror. If only their hero knew what they looked like right now, their mouth open, their eyes closed. The sounds escaped them over and over. It was intoxicating.

The villain began to tighten the corset again, but this time leaving the hero enough room to somewhat breathe. As the hero’s breathing came back to a steady pace, the villain couldn’t help themselves.

They wanted to hear it all again, to give them an overwhelming sense of pleasure their little hero couldn’t help but submit to. And they wanted to feel it this time, even if they knew the consequences.

The villain ripped their black gloves off and tossed them aside. They wrapped both their arms around their hero, pressing them into their chest, curling them tight. The hero’s eyes shot open as their fingers flexed around their waist.

“Wha.. What are you doing?” the hero squeaked, their voice laced with confusion, panic.. and pleasure.

The villain simply pressed them more into their body. One of their hands came up to pull their choker aside, as their mouth latched onto the sensitive part of their hero’s neck.

The hero gasped. They squirmed in their grasp, at the villain’s lips, at their mouth that started to suck and mark all over.

”Wait!” the hero gasped, the sensations spreading through them, making them writhe. “Everyone will see!”

“That’s the plan, love.” the villain smirked, before going again. They couldn’t wait for all the onlookers to stare in shock. No one will dare touch what’s theirs.

The villain let one of their hands trail back up to the hero’s hair, swiftly tugging them to the side, rubbing their scalp again in a way they knew their hero loved. The hero immediately whimpered as the villain gave themselves more access to their neck.

The hero could feel the villain leaving nasty marks, ones every person at the ball would spot from a mile away. They shouldn’t have let that happen, but it was too late. They didn’t have enough strength to push the villain off, to rip their hand out of their hair, and they didn’t want to. It felt too good… everything was too much and they couldn't help but sink.

They couldn’t fight it anymore. The hero finally let themselves drown in the sea of pleasure.

They closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around the villain, letting their breathless sounds get louder and louder as the villain's mouth trailed from their neck to their collarbone, all the way down to the exposed skin near their chest.

The villain could feel their hero growing more and more into a pile at their feet, which just made them suck their skin even harder. Their hero almost screamed out when they bit into a sensitive part of their collarbone, then soothed the sting away with small delicate kisses.

The hero felt like the villain's hands were burning into them, but not in a way they hated, no, in a way they craved. They wanted it more and more, like a drug. They never felt anything better.

The villain picked up their hero, turned them around and pressed them into the vanity in a frenzy, both of them now breathing heavily and feeling like they just wanted more and more. They both felt so addicted.

The villain began to kiss the sensitive parts of the hero’s chest. The hero looked down at them in shock.

The villain was rendering their hero into a panting, moaning mess.

The villain sucked as their hand massaged their hero’s neck where all their marks now covered their skin. The hero threw their head back and practically screamed.

The villain looked up with pride at their hero’s eyes fluttering adorably, their mouth agape, their hair now a mess, their neck covered in a new red necklace. They loved how much they looked like theirs, and how everyone would soon see.

The villain continued their descent as the hero threaded their hand into the villain’s locks, not knowing if they wanted to keep them there or push them away. Everything felt so sensitive, heightened and feverish.

Their eyes locked for a second, and it made everything feel so much more intense. The hero cried out as the villain bit down gently, before sucking and kissing the pain away. They couldn’t think straight, it was like the villain had cast a spell on them.

The hero needed more, so much more.

The villain, feeling their hero growing impatient by their whines, tugged them close and finally pressed their lips to theirs.

They had thought of this moment for so long, what their hero would taste like, feel like. And they felt like the best thing in the whole world.

The villain coaxed their mouth open and it was like no kiss the hero had ever felt.

Would they even call that a kiss? They didn’t know. Kisses were comforting, sweet in the hero’s head, and this was far from that. It felt intoxicating in a way that humans were not supposed to feel. It felt so wrong, but so breathtaking in a way where they couldn’t stop themselves, they couldn’t. The hero moaned into their mouth as the villain made a mess of them over and over.

The hero frantically reached for the villain’s pants subconsciously, making the villain smile into their lips between their kisses.

They grabbed their hero’s hands, caressing their wrists trying to soothe their little love’s franticness, “Not now, darling.”

The hero only whined at them.

“Oh, you're a needy little thing, aren’t you?” they chuckled, looking at their hero’s disheveled out of breath state. The villain smiled. They turned them into a mess.

“As much as I would love to give your impatient body what it wants,” the villain smirked, making the hero heat up, “We have a ball to get to.”

The villain propped themselves back up, leaving the hero to lean back on the vanity still trying to catch their breath.

They… they didn’t-.. what..

“What was that?” they whispered. Their brain felt like it was still in pieces.

The villain simply tilted their head as they retrieved their gloves once more from the floor.

“I’m not usually… I don't-“, the hero said, their eyes becoming frantic. The villain needed to calm them down, they had a feeling this would happen.

The villain slowly approached their hero, their now gloved hands tucking a strand behind their ear.

“You shock yourself when you realize who you are when you let go.”

The hero looked up at them with the most adorable doe eyes filled with shock and confusion. The villain leaned in close, reveling in the way their hero’s breath hitched and their pupils went wide.

“You should do it more often,” they smirked. Their hero blushed immediately.

The villain couldn’t stop themselves from pressing a soft kiss to their lips.

The villain backed up and extended their hand, an open invitation. The hero looked at it cautiously but took the offer. Their skin felt warm and tingly against the leather.

But not like it tingled against the villain’s skin.

The hero felt more relaxed, the overwhelming anxiety from before seemed to have dissipated.

The villain tugged them along as the hero glanced in the mirror's direction.

They stopped in their tracks.

They looked… completely ruined.

Their hair had strands peaking out, their lipstick smudged, their cheeks so red you couldn’t even see the blush anymore. They looked so dirty, and they knew that everyone at the ball would think the same. They couldn’t leave like this. They couldn’t.

“I can’t wait for everyone to see you,” the villain murmured behind them.

“Like this?” the hero gulped. They spotted their lipstick smudged on the villain’s lips as well. It made their heart flutter in a way they hated.

“Exactly.”

The villain tugged them again, but the hero tried to stop them. The villain slowly turned to glare at them. It made the hero want to gulp down their words, but they didn’t this time.

“I can’t go down in front of people looking like—“

”Like what?” the villain said, their hand coming up to tug the hero’s hair. The hero’s anxiety came creeping back, the villain’s warning clear as day as their grip tightened against their hand and head.

“Like your mine?”

The hero’s heart started to pick up. The villains eyes pieced through them as their hands tightened once more making them whimper out of fear.

“That’s exactly what you should look like.”

The hero wanted to rip their naive little heart out.

They knew they should have listened to that voice in the back of their head. The one telling them that the villain never cared for them. The villain didn’t kiss them senselessly to make each other feel good. No. They only did it to make their appearances look.. well like this.

But the villain couldn’t be more satisfied with the taste of their hero’s lipstick on their mouth.

They spent years being utterly obsessed with someone those pesky royals wouldn’t let them have.

But the villain knew from the second they laid eyes on them that they already wanted to kiss them all over until they writhed. They already wanted to adorn their perfectly smooth skin with their marks, showing the world who they belonged to. They already wanted to devour them until the only thing left was a good little hero for them to play with.

They waited for the perfect time, in a small alleyway that day they decided they were going to keep the king and queen’s daughter all to themselves. The royal family was not happy, of course, but with their precious princess in the villains’ grasp, they were foolish to not obey the villain's demands.

Their hero was still terrified of the villain, kept their head down in their presence like one look would send them to hell. But their little pet was growing more and more perfect by the day, and soon they will be absolutely theirs.

The power coursing through the villain’s hands was something they didn’t use often on their hero, but when they did, it was completely worth it. It made the hero more compliant so to say.

The King and Queen will see tonight, at this very ball, looking up at the staircase in a matter of minutes exactly what the villain has turned their princess into.

The villain released the hero’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to the hero’s knuckles, before tugging them along.

Their hero shivered but still followed their villain.

[writingpromptsworld]

Prompt #75

By @writingpromptsworld

"So, you don't mind?" The villain asked, leaning back against the desk, a smug expression on their face.

"What?" The hero replied, their voice slightly irritated.

The villain let out a low chortle. "You don't mind going on a date with me?"

"It's for a mission."

"You said the same thing last time...and we found ourselves in your bed." The villain reminded with a cheeky grin.

"It was a mistake." The hero scowled.

"A mistake you're willing to make again by going on another date with me."

"I'm being forced." The hero explained, their jaw clenched.

The villain moved a few steps forward, nodding as if in deep thought. "Just say you want me."

"I don't." The hero replied, gaze faltering and fleeting away.

The villain placed two fingers under the hero's chin and turned their face to them. "You're a bad liar." The villain whispered.

And that was all it took for the hero to crumble, and shove the villain back on to their desk, roughly pulling them in a kiss.

[automeris-io-moth]

Amnesiac hero, amnesiac hero, amnesiac herooo

(pls)

The kindness of a stranger.

They should’ve never left the side of the stranger that found them. 

“Back off!” Hero screamed, the ground shaking underneath their feet, uncontrolled and, to their teammates worry, starting to become a bigger problem than just a mild seism “Get away! Don’t get closer!” 

One of the persons, the nameless people Hero could not recognize, stepped closer, all eyes darting to them, the ground cracking all the way to reach them. They lifted their hands in declaration of harmlessness, bowing their head to show vulnerability, to ease Hero from their flight or fight state. 

“It’s okay Hero,” they said, voice calm even when their eyes flew between Hero and the ground, watching the cracks spread, the soil splitting open “we’re here to help you, we mean no harm.” 

Their eyes were unfocused, blurry with unshed tears, their hands were held high, fists tightly closed and feet heavy on the ground, two trees had already fallen behind the group, no one had turned to watch them, the priority then, when the city laid so near and the quacking was quickly picking up in intensity, was to stop Hero’s power, everything else came second. 

Hero shook their head, stare still fixed at the others “I don’t believe you, you…you’re pointing that gun, you want to…” 

“It doesn’t mean any harm either,” the same person assured “but your power is quite destructive, we can’t let it get out of control.” 

“Then get away! Leave me alone and I’ll, I’ll stop when you leave.” 

“Hero, we…” 

“Stop calling me that!” Hero screamed “I don’t know who that is, leave me alone, please.” 

All the eyes were on them, pitying glances looking at them, concerned, worried, but Hero recognized none. Strangers stared, guns pointed to their chest, to their head, feet careful over the cracks, advancing instead of backing off. 

Everything was too much, they wanted to be left alone, those people could not be safe, they could not, ready to attack them, ready to say anything to make Hero lower their guard, leave them vulnerable. 

It was too loud all around, it was too bright, they did not know who they were, who the people around them were, where, when, who. 

They needed to wait on the kind stranger. 

Their hands were trembling, they were trapped. Trapped. 

Hero lowered their fists, in a make-shift surrender, the ground stopped its quiaking, only a slight vibration left. As a warning. 

“I’ll calm down, I’ll stop,” they said, promised “just leave, leave me alone and I’ll stop.” 

“We can’t do that, you’re not safe here. Anyone could take advantage of you like this.” 

“I can take care of myself,” Hero answered, “you can’t even get close to me!" 

Another person in the group shook their head, slowly, lifting their palm towards them, eyeing one of the gunned men. It was an order, Hero could recognize, an order to shoot.

They were, indeed, not safe. 

The quacking restarted, no control left to where the cracks and the opening spreaded, where the ground splitted and crumbled into deep holes, birds flew away in flocks when the trees began shaking, began tumbling side to side ready to detach their roots from the very ground and fall sideways. 

Their head hurted so much.

A bullet missed them by little. 

Danger, they meant danger.

A tree fell behind the group, then another, right beside them. 

They wanted to hurt them, to take them away like the stranger had told them. 

Hero could not breathe right.

Hero could not…

“Sweetheart?” 

The ground splitted open, breaking a border between Hero and the people before them. 

“Villain!” Hero called, cried as they ran towards the other, appearing through the thick foliage 

Villain opened their arms, receiving Hero right into them, lowering them both to the ground. 

“Are you okay? Who are these people?” 

Hero nuzzled their head into the other’s chest. 

The quacking stopped with their own trembling. 

“I don’t know, they wanted to shoot me, they wanted to take me with them when I didn’t want to.” 

Frown eyebrows met the playful gaze Villain gave, a mocking smirk over Hero’s shoulder “Well that simply cannot be, can it? Anyone could take advantage of you now that you’re vulnerable, they cannot mean good while pointing their weapons towards you.” 

Hero nodded against Villain’s chest, their clothes already wet with tears. 

“Then we should make them leave,” Villain whispered in their ear. 

Slowly, Villain left with Hero held tight in their arms, no hurry was there to have, they could not reach them, at the other side of the crater the screams of Hero’s old teammates were too blurry, too far away for either to hear, for either to care, and when Villain began humming, all trace of noise outside them two, was silenced. 

Villain had warned them, multiple times, what would happen if their requests were unfulfilled, and if they could get two birds with one stone: reaffirm the reach of their power, the seriousness of their role; and get their favourite of the bunch out of the battlefield before things turned truly violent, they would take that chance. 

The look of betrayal and the deep fear towards their team now installed in Hero, as well as the established and growing trust they had towards Villain, was another gratifying side reward they dared not to throw away. 

“Thank you,” Hero whispered, head laying in Villain’s lap as the fire crackled in the background.

“For what sweetheart?” Villain answered, tracing the shape of Hero’s nose bridge carefully “you did everything, you are so strong, kept them away from home.” 

Hero lifted their arms, cupping Villain’s face “for everything, you were right, and I’m so grateful for all your help until I can figure out what happened to me.” 

Villain hummed in acknowledgement, leaning down to kiss Hero’s forehead.  

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” they answered “they can’t get you anymore.” 

And Villain would make sure of that.

_

Masterlist

Amnesiac hero, amnesiac hero.

:)

[dyinggirldied]

I love the tropes where Danny is the normal while Tucker and Sam are fucking freaks, especially if those two just so non discreet about it.

So now, imagine Amity Park, after GIW has run rampant on it.

Tucker, shamelessly using magic for any convenience between himself and his lovers. A headcanon of mine is that Danny has chronic pain after the portal accident and Tucker liked to make it so Danny's bed and pillow softer and doesn't hesitate one bit to curse those mean Danny's harms.

Sam, likewise, uses her plant magic to trap those pesky ghost hunters and makes life difficult for them in general.

Tucker and Sam just don't expect for the GIW to report them to the Justice League. Or for the heroes to really come arresting them.

Danny, as expected, blows up.

[commander-revan]

No matter what happens to the rest of the League in the end, they will live on forever through Spinner.