#a villains twisted heart hook

[elfqueen006]

Darling

Captain Hook x Reader

Tw: canon-typical violence, canon compliant, mention of drawn blood, angst, jealousy

---

Currently, Hook's renewed Jolly Roger was being faced off by the Unraveler yet again, who came with his own new and improved ship, that he likely acquired in a manner of minutes rather than with the hours of care Hook's crew had put into his own vessel.

Ever the valiant one, Hook wasted no time throwing himself back into a captain's role and commanded a spyglass from a member of his faithful crew.

"Let's see what tricks the lubber has now-"

The captain stiffened upon looking through his spyglass and his throat bobbed a great lump.

Your brows drew together in concern, immediately picking up on his faltered state. "Hook? Is something wrong?"

"No. No, it's nothing." He replied flippantly, "Nothing to be unnerved about."

Hisame's pale hand swiped the device from him, sneering. "Fool. If you're rattled it's obviously something we need to know." He looked through the spyglass for a moment, but his face became perplexed. "They have a girl."

"Like, a hostage?" you asked.

"Doesn't seem to be. She's consorting with the Unraveler in the open."

"Let me see." Hisame handed the spyglass off to you and you began scanning the ship. The first thing you noticed of course, was the Unraveler with his stark white features against the crew of black clothes. It made sense with what you knew of him, he'd want to stand out amongst the world he deemed himself a god over. 

He seemed to notice you too, smirking before he called to someone yet unseen. When they came up you mentally flinched. It was a girl. And something about her appearance was so distinct from even the Unraveler that it prompted you to get a closer look. Adjusting the spyglass you focused more on her face and dress.

She couldn't have been much older than you, a young woman probably entering college or just leaving it. A fair complexion with a few stray freckles on her face. Pink and full lips, very womanly. Dark hair falling to her shoulders in ringlets. She wore a bright blue dress but no shoes.

"Wendy Darling..." you said, lowering the spyglass. Flowing through your mind were countless memories of the heroine portrayed in the pages of your old books and in the faces of the movies adapting them. And then the more recent ones of the faceless and yet presumably cold woman who had broken Hook's heart. You knew she existed and yet you never thought you'd be able to meet her. Especially like this.

You looked over to Hook, who was paler than usual. His face flushed as he used his hat to fan himself.

"...Captain?" Your call made him look up with wide eyes. You hated to see him so... vulnerable. Well, against his will. A million thoughts must have been running through his head right now. A million memories. But now was the time to act, and act fast. "What should we do?"

He shifted his gaze elsewhere, "We...we persist. But be ready for anything. This is still the Unraveler we're dealing with; a familiar face may very well be another opponent."

He’s obviously still very shaken up. But what else can you do but follow him? If there’s anything Hook excels at, it’s leadership under pressure. He’d walk this blind if he had to. At least, you hope so. 

It isn’t long before the Unraveler deploys his men to overtake your ship. They come in swinging, clashing their swords with Hook’s men. Many try to overpower Hook himself, but he’d knocked the swords from their hands with his skilled parries and thrusts. One man had come up and grabbed hold of Hook’s sword arm, cocking his own arm back to deliver a punch before Grimm had come in from the other side to knock him down with a swipe of his heavy claws. Hook grinned and slapped his back, to which the wolfman gave a scoff but assumed a smirk full of pride when he went off to ward off more attackers.

You felt yourself smile. It was nice to see Hook be himself again, especially after such a rattling development. But that didn’t mean your foes would be deterred. Few men came after you, approaching more methodically than they did your comrades. It was likely the Unraveler still had use for you and ordered that they take care not to damage a possible asset. You weren't as skilled as Hook with your sword, but you made use of your size by dodging and slipping under the bigger men and redistributing your weight along with the direction of your sword to fend them off with swift and heavy strikes. And they just kept coming! As if you were a capoeira champion, you made sure to keep light on your feet, no matter how weary you felt yourself getting.

Hook glances over at you in the middle of his own fight. He feels his heart race in an unpleasant way at seeing you grow sluggish. He cursed himself for not teaching you more in melee combat. It also didn’t seem like you were doing a very good job at handling them permanently. Almost like it was a second instinct not to hurt or maim but to defend. No matter how dire the situation, he supposed he couldn’t fault you for being an inherently caring person. It isn’t just something you could unlearn… at least not so fast.

As the man in front of him lifts his arms up with his sword, foolishly giving Hook an opening, the pirate ran his own sword through his stomach. He kicked the wounded man down and ran over to you. He was halfway there when suddenly–

Clang!

Whether it be luck or pure instinct, Hook had blocked the Unraveler’s sword in time. “Going somewhere, old friend?”

His cerulean eyes widened before going cold with a sneer. “We’re friends now, are we?” Hook twisted his sword and shoved him backward. The Unraveler slid back but stood his ground before going in once more to parry him.

“Of, course! There’s an unspoken bond between a hero and his villain. Maybe even more than their damsels, wouldn’t you say?” the Unraveler said.

Hook only growled in response as he delivered a particularly harsh blow against his sword. 

The Unraveler snickered, “Struck a nerve, did I? What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy to see Wendy again-”

“Wendy is dead to me!” This time, he actually managed to cut the white-haired man, who made a surprised yelp when his cheek was grazed by his opponents’ sword. His hold loosened on his swords’ grip and Hook quickly knocked it from his hands, catching his collar by his hook and raising his sword to run him through.

Clang! His arm jerks back at a sudden force and his gaze is drawn to the swift passing of a blue gown. He takes notice his own sword has been flung across the ship deck. The scraping of metal on wood draws everyone’s attention to the fight in the middle of the deck; it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

You look agape at the shocking scene before you: James Hook has the end of a sword to his throat. Your gaze travels down the blade and the woman behind the guard. Wendy holds her weapon assuredly as she assumes an almost pouty expression. Her dark blue eyes stun him in place as his throat bobs with the contact of her blade. That familiar flushed look is on his face. The Unraveler is down, clutching his sore wrist as he smirks up at them.

“Thank you for making this easy for me.” She remarks coldly. But there’s a hint of something else in her tone you can’t place. Either way, the image before you is sobering and your eyes dart to the closest man in front of you. Your blade is still placed over his, and a small pull and thrust to his neck has him gushing and gasping, grasping at his neck while you turn away, taking a running start at Wendy.

You hear Grimm and Hisame call out to you but your blood rushes to your ears as you harshly bump your shoulder against Wendy’s and away from Hook.

“Y/N!” He took a step forward after you but once again was cut off by a punch from the Unraveler.

“We’re not done!” The Unraveler hissed.

As the two fought, both you and Wendy had managed to get yourselves up to the deck stairs. Wendy regains her footing quickly and shoves you back down. You clumsily stumble down but place one foot atop a stair and one back on deck.

Wendy stands above you at the very top. The sun halos her hair, the light giving it a distinct shine. She frowns, sticking her chin out while looking down at you. She is authoritative in a very British noblewoman sort of way, even with the trace of dirt and wetness at the ends of her dress. Still, she’s more than antagonistic, especially with the way she apprehended Hook earlier. You wouldn’t put it past her to be poised to kill.

So you would have to… 

You would have to kill Wendy…

“You’re wearing one of my gowns.” She suddenly announces. Somehow, her voice is louder than the chaos occurring behind you both, which sounds almost muted when you focus on her and her alone.

You look down at your nightgown. It’s a satiny red that’s sheer near the bottom. You never took much notice of it, but now blowing in the wind against your legs, you do feel a bit exposed.

You clear your throat awkwardly, “I never took you for a 'red’ type of girl.”

“Neither did I…” Her eyes dart briefly over to where you assume Hook is. But you don’t take your eyes off her for a moment. She was definitely more skilled than you. Any slip up could mean certain doom.

Her lips then pull up in a sneer, “So did you have fun in it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Was he…able to provide you a swell time without cutting you up.”

You feel your cheeks burn at the implications, but your mouth runs before you can think. “You’d be surprised. Hook is very skilled with his hands.”

Now it’s her turn to blush. In fact her face almost glows pink. It nearly matches Hooks own expression toward her. And for some reason that sickens you.

“Ha! That’s putting it heavily. I much prefer the light touch of a gentleman.”

“I bet you would, darling.”

Her lips tighten up with an ugly scrunch of her nose. She flicks her wrist to flash her sword in the light. The gleam of it draws your gaze to the blade. A warning. You hold your own blade assuredly, bringing it in front of you.

You advance up the stairs and thrust your sword against hers. 

Swinging your sword around, you chase her over the upper deck, likely breaking and scraping little fixtures in the ship with your assault. When it seems like you have her, you bring your sword down again. She jumps back as she parries you, and when she leans in close, she thrusts again. Your body moves before your sword, flinching away from her swift strikes. At some points your weapon drags across the floor. You can feel the adrenaline rush from earlier wearing off. The tilt of the floor below you, along with the sun’s beating heat, is making you loopy.

Wendy takes notice of this, smirking. “You don’t even have what it takes to be a pirate.” She turns her left arm and strikes down at your leg. You cry out rather loudly, the stinging pain of being cut way harsher than expected. You hop back as she advances and you’re both going down the other flight of stairs.

The crowd behind you makes way subconsciously. Hook looks over with worry as he fends off the Unraveler. “Two women fighting over you – exciting isn’t it?” His opponent’s taunts fall on deaf ears.

You continue to backup, swinging wildly at Wendy. But she’s too confident. Too bold. She’s sure she will win. And for a moment, you think she might too.

The heel of your foot then catches on something big and you fall on your back. You turn your head, nearly lurching at the sight. Slumped over is the newly dead body of the man who’s throat you slit a moment before. His eyes are rolled upward, mouth slack and open. His chin and neck are coated in his own blood. You turn away just in time to see Wendy raising her sword overhead.

“Don’t worry.” she coos, her voice rising in glee. “Leave Hook to me.”

You hear him scream out of earshot, “Wendy!!!”

Without thinking you lunge for her middle, tackling her down with a newfound fierceness. Her sword flies from her hands. You make a grab for her neck, effectively throttling her and banging her head against the hardwood. She flips you over, about to do the same but you reel your knee back and send her flying off with a harsh kick.

She scrambles for purchase but you’re not finished, grabbing her by her hair and wrenching her up to her feet so you could cock your fist back and slug her across the face. 

“You brute!” Wendy shrieked. Her eyes squinted in anger with her jaw tightened and teeth clenched. She slaps you roughly before pulling at your hair as well. Her actions are that of a young angry woman, flailing and jerking about as she attacks you. Her blows still hurt, but she isn’t as methodical as before. And that’s your in.

“Y/N!” When Hook calls your name, your arm sticks out almost on instinct. You feel something cold and ribbed land in your palm. You curl your hand around the grip and jam the dagger into Wendy’s stomach. Her hands still in your hair, clench harshly, making you wince. You look into her wide blue eyes that trailed down to the blooming red in her dress. Her mouth hung open, taking in sharp little gasps at the sight. Her hands fell from your head, and after a beat, she went slack on your dagger. 

You ripped it from her body, letting her fall with a heavy thud.

Her death marks a gradual hush of the deck. Hook looks on, his eyes upon the body with an unreadable expression. Grimm and Hisame stand speechless as well. And finally, The Unraveler makes an expression that portrays genuine befuddlement at the scene before him: his heroine laid to death by the presumably meek and passive fledgling Reader he kidnapped just days before.

“I can fix this…” he mutters, backing up from Hook. “...I can always just … write her back to life later.”

Immediately he pulls out a book and reads him and all his men away and to their ship. Even Wendy’s body is nowhere to be found.

The pirates of the Jolly Roger cheer but it’s white noise in your ears. You feel yourself give in to the fatigue from the fight, stumbling backward and into a mast. The boys rush to your aid, coming at you from all sides. In your waning vision, you see Hook reach out to you before it all goes black.

—

When you wake up, you’re in his bed. Not the private room he gave you, but his own quarters. There’s maps lined up on the wall, and jewels and treasures placed around miscellaneously. 

You barely have time to process anything else before two sturdy arms envelope you in a tight hug. You feel yourself grin at the sudden greeting, but begin to groan when he presses kisses all along your face.

You lighty shove him back, “Augh, Hook… lemme go!”

His grin is unmistakable to place, even in his voice.

“Never, darling, never!”

===

It's five ammmm and I'm finished with storyyy :33

So sleepy gn - Elf queen

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 5

Hook propaganda:

“I can go on a rant about this guy that'll make me look like Charlie in that one red string board meme image but I'll try to keep it brief- I wasn't sure about this guy at first but by the end of the novel he won me over completely. Mf has a lot of depth to him that a lot of other Genius INC characters don't have. He's a pirate that has a big heart for his crew and eventually for the protag as well. While he's smug and cocky and confident he has body image issues due to his disability bc his past girlfriend left him over it, but you can help him see that his disability isn't a bad or ugly thing and that he isn't less of a person because of it. He likes mind games and teasing but damn if this guy doesn't fall hard for the protag as soon as they show they genuinely care about him. He tries to play it off like they're foolish for caring about him or anyone but he always tries to jumps to protags aid when something bad happens to protect them. He also tries to coax protag out of their shell a little and get them to loosen up and have fun in life and gets happy when they fo wanna tag along with his ideas. His ending is super sweet too, he chooses to stay with the protag in their world instead of going back to his oen and becomes a photographer after learning about more about the protag's world.”

Edelgard propaganda:

“to summarize, she started a war but she was right. maybe her means weren't the best, but I'll always support my wife to tear down the church and end fodlan's reliance and discrimination on Crests”

[twistedtummies2]

Let’s Talk About...”A Villain’s Twisted Heart”

So, this is a little different from most posts I make. XD Basically, I just wanted to take a little time to talk to you guys about a couple of games I found out about recently. They have some good characters - as well as very kinkable ones - and they are very “niche” pieces, not especially widely known. So I thought bringing some attention to them would be a good idea. Both games are by a gaming company called “Genius Inc.” They make otome-style visual novels, which are all…TECHNICALLY free to play. Yeah, spoiler alert, I can’t - in good conscience - recommend either of the games I want to talk about AS games. I’ll get to why that is, and tell you where you can find walkthroughs to view, later on in this post, however. First, I want to focus on the positives, and especially on the characters. There are two games I want to discuss, and I think it’s best I do them one at a time. So, I’m going to start with this one: “A Villain’s Twisted Heart.” WHAT’S THE STORY? I am 90% convinced that, since this game came out in 2021, and has a title like “A Villain’s Twisted Heart,” this had to be inspired by the success of my beloved “Twisted Wonderland.” When you first hear the premise, it does bear a few passing resemblances to the game, but it’s different enough that I think it can stand on its own. The story focuses on the POV Protagonist - referred to as “The Reader” - who has the power to make material anything they read aloud. Basically, if they were to read, say, something from Arthurian Legend, they could potentially summon Excalibur; within the story of the game itself, they read from Cinderella and summon the Mice, and from a science book and summon a portal into outer space, just to give you two examples. However, in typical fashion, the Reader doesn’t know how to fully control their powers, and sees it more as a curse than a blessing. Things take a bad turn when they encounter a mysterious antagonist, known only as “The Unraveler.” The Unraveler is a Reader gone rogue, who uses his powers to travel to different worlds via different stories and books, and then basically mess everything up there. The problem is, the more one messes with other worlds this way, the greater the risk of the world itself being completely destroyed by the Unraveler’s meddling. He’s now planning to do the same to the Reader’s own world. To try and combat this threat, the Reader attempts to summon three of their favorite heroes in fiction…but, seemingly because of their lack of experience, they instead summon the villains of the stories in question. These villains are Captain Hook (from Peter Pan), Grimm (the Big Bad Wolf of Fairy-Tales), and Hisame (a genderbent version of the Snow Queen). The Reader thus is forced to team up with these dastardly, selfish, murderous scoundrels in order to defeat the much worse evil the Unraveler presents. In the first season of the game, all the action takes place within the Reader’s own world, with many fish-out-of-water elements for the Villains who are the focus. In the second season, the Reader and the Villains travel between the three worlds of the bad guys’ respective stories, pursuing the Unraveler to try and stop his mad plan to basically become a God. Since this is an otome type game, you make choices along the way to strengthen your relationships with the three Villains, and at the end of the story, you choose to form a romantic relationship with one of the three; they remain in your world (the Reader’s world), while the other two return to their own respective universes…with the promise that they will either visit you or you will visit them sometime down the line.

PROTAGONISTS & ANTAGONISTS

The main thing that both this and the other game I plan to talk about do so well is create strong characters. While the Reader is a mostly pretty blank protagonist - which is par the course for this type of game, to be fair - I do appreciate the person who wrote this visual novel did, in fact, give them a little bit of a personality, and a story arc beyond just falling in love. The Reader starts off as an easily flustered, generally reserved person at the start, and by the end of the game they’ve become just as much of a bad@$$, to be blunt, as the three Villains who they befriend (and, in at least one case, more than befriend). They also have a sense of humor and, despite being shy at the beginning, they aren’t completely spineless, usually ready with a quick comeback or logical argument. On that note, the character IS defined as female, but there’s no reason one can’t imagine them as male in personal writing, or just keep the gender neutral. The Unraveler, our main antagonist (pictured above), is a pretty deplorable villain. And I mean that in a good way: he’s a decent bad guy. He starts off as a straightforward villain without much depth, but as the story goes on, he becomes more interesting. We never find out his true name; apparently, he adopts a new alias each time he visits a new world, and all his misadventures have unnaturally expanded his lifespan, so he’s far older than he seems; just like the Villains we’re facing, themselves. In the Reader’s world, he adopts the identity of a college professor (Moriarty, anyone?), but it’s pretty clear even this identity is something he’s made up. Whoever he is, his backstory is that he was a person who was neglected and shunned by society for most of his life; when he found out about his powers as a Reader, he used them to make himself into the hero of many stories. He craved the attention and praise being the hero got him, but he wasn’t willing to do the actual work to become a true hero; instead, he would organize things to make the heroes of those worlds look bad, and thus present himself as the only one who could stop their evil deeds. It’s this obsessive need to be given attention and adulation that leads to him seeking to become “The Hero of All Worlds,” which would apparently give him powers tantamount to a God. Which brings us to the real stars of this story, the three Villains. What I appreciate about this game is that these three Villains ARE villains, at the start. They aren’t just misunderstood heroes, or even anti-heroes: they, themselves, acknowledge that whatever and whoever they used to be, they became the bad guys of their own stories. A common thread runs through all three of their stories: it’s revealed that each of these Villains used to be the hero of their own respective world. They were protective presences who guarded their people and tried to help them in times of need. That all changed when the Unraveler came to their world: he framed each of them for crimes they did not commit, and when they tried to stand up against him, they failed, lost, and thus their reputations were completely ruined. The suffering they went through led to all three making the same basic decision. To quote a song: “You’re looking for a monster? Well, it’s your lucky day! I’ll be what you want!” As the story goes on, each of the three not only begins to form attachments - both to each other, and to the Reader - but they do start to shape up. By the end of Season 1, they’ve effectively gone from Villains to Anti-Heroes: they’re not exactly GOOD people, but they’re on their way to the path of redemption. And by the end of Season 2, I’d say all three are what would be termed Flawed Heroes. They’re now more or less heroic figures, the way they once were…but after spending so much time as Villains who would kill or even eat you without a second thought, they obviously still have some broken gears in the clockworks, so to speak. On that note, let’s now take a look at the three separately… MEET THE VILLAINS

Captain Hook is the first of the trio we’ll talk about. Hook seems to be the sort of self-appointed leader of the villains, as he’s the one who comes up with most of the plans throughout the story and tends to act as an ironic voice of reason. I do love the way Hook is portrayed in this version: while he’s younger than most versions of the character, he’s still basically the Captain Hook we all know and love. He’s a sneaky, dastardly swashbuckler with a theatrical, charismatic, slightly foppish sort of personality. The game plays a lot with the duality of Hook, between him as the dandified gentleman and him as…well…a pirate. He’s a drinker, a womanizer, and has the sort of cocksure swagger many typical pirates have, but he’s also capable of being quite eloquent and even somewhat of a ham. They also play with the brutality of Hook: he’s a manipulative sadist who loves to play with people’s minds, keeping his cards close to his chest and finding stealthy, subtle ways to solve most problems. You can never fully trust him, and he seems to be the one of the three who gets the most pleasure out of the thought of not only killing but outright torturing those who cross him. As the game goes on, Hook softens up considerably, his sadistic elements toning down bit by bit, as he starts to realize he still has a chance to reclaim at least most of the things he lost when Peter Pan (one of the Unraveler’s many identities) cut off his hand and fed it to the Crocodile.

Grimm, the Big Bad Wolf, actually reminds me a bit of Jack Howl from Twisted Wonderland…except that, at the start, he’s much meaner. Where Hook is a mental threat, who prefers to outwit his enemies, toy with their minds, and use guile and sneakiness to get what he wants, Grimm is a purely physical threat. While he isn’t a total dunderhead, he is, nevertheless, a person who relies largely on brute force and intimidation to get what he wants. At the start of the game, he behaves more like an animal than a human being, and is easily the most physically imposing and strong of the trio. He’s also, being the Big Bad Wolf, RAVENOUSLY hungry. He’s a bottomless pit, really; threatening to eat people on more than one occasion, and constantly chowing down throughout the game, without a shred of manners. As the game goes on, we quickly realize that under his big and bad exterior, Grimm has a soft side; he’s basically a violent tsundere, afraid to admit his true feelings and form close attachments because of past experiences, and trying to seem meaner than he (already) is. As the game goes on, Grimm opens up more and more, and shows a sort of puppyish side to his personality: he’s extremely curious about human life, and the way things work in the Reader’s own world, and goes from trying to push them away to becoming the single most protective of them out of the whole bunch. By the end, while he’s still got his rough edges and doesn’t always like to show his soft sides, those soft sides are clearly taking greater precedence.

Finally, there is Hisame, the Snow King. In order to talk about him, I have to give a bit away about his backstory: Hisame’s origin states that he was stabbed by Kai (the Unraveler’s identity in his world) with a dagger formed from a cursed icicle. In Lord-of-the-Rings fashion, a piece of the icicle knife broke off inside of him, and is working its way slowly into the Snow King’s heart, freezing him from the inside out. As time goes on, not only does this cause Hisame to become more and more emotionally cold and distant, but it also means he runs the risk of dying if his heart freezes completely. The only way to break the curse is, of course, through True Love’s Kiss…but if you’re worried that means you HAVE to pick him, don’t worry: in the same vein as “Frozen” or “Maleficent,” it’s explained that True Love doesn’t have to be ROMANTIC love, it just has to be real. Regardless, for most of the game, Hisame is as cold as his slowly freezing heart: he’s haughty, dictatorial, commanding, passive-aggressive, and thoroughly icy. He’s an emotional threat, constantly seeking to make others feel inferior to himself; a dominating and imposing presence. He’s not a sadist the way both Grimm and especially Hook can be, it’s more that he doesn’t care if you suffer or not…which, arguably, can be seen as even more frightening. Part of the reason he acts so cruel and heartless, it’s revealed, is because he’s afraid of what will happen if he gets too close to someone: he’s scared he’ll hurt them, or that their compassion will be wasted on him in some way. Eventually, he does learn to accept his own emotions and finds a way to both literally and figuratively thaw out his frozen heart. For those reading who know me for my kinkier fanfics, yes, I do have MANY thoughts related to these three lads as kink crushes, especially Hook and Grimm. Perhaps I’ll go into them more if people ask in some fashion, but for now, suffice it to say all three characters are awesome and definitely have the capacity to make me blush. WHY YOU SHOULD NOT PLAY THE GAME. So, I’ve established I like all these characters, and the story itself - while not completely perfect in its execution (the second season is somewhat rushed, in particular) - is actually a decently well-told tale. It blends elements of both slice-of-life romance and a sort of magical/superhero adventure epic together in a very fun and sweet way. I also appreciate that, while you can form relationships with all three, they remember that you can only pick one to be your true love at the end. By which I mean, even though the Reader shares romantic scenes with all three characters, they’re written in such a way that you can sort of “excuse” the fact they ultimately will only pick one lover by the end of the tale. HOWEVER, there are two things wrong with “A Villain’s Twisted Heart,” and to be honest, they are problems that all the Genius Inc. games I’ve looked at (I’ve taken a peek at a few by now) seem to have. The first is that this game is very cheaply made. And I do mean VERY cheaply made: a lot of the artwork featured in the game is taken from stock, with only a few backgrounds, screens, and the main character sprites being original. The music, similarly, is a blend of some original music and stock music together. All of Genius Inc.’s games seem to be made on the budget of a can of beans, but this one seems oddly and particularly low-budget compared to even some of the others I’ve looked at. This problem would be excusable if it weren’t for the other issue: all of Genius Inc.’s visual novels have the same basic gameplay system, and it’s a system that is, to be blunt, rigged completely. The games are free to play, and most of the choices you make throughout the story are totally up to you to make. HOWEVER, there are specific choices - referred to as “Premiere Choices” - which are THE MOST IMPORTANT DECISIONS for the character to make. Choosing one way will lead to basically getting a bad ending, and choosing the other will lead to basically getting a good ending, plain and simple. This is already problematic enough, but this is what really tears it: in order to even MAKE the choices that will lead to the good ending(s) of each game…you have to pay money. Yeah. The games are free to play…but to get the good endings, you have to spend cash. On the one hand, I guess it makes sense from a business point of view: how else would these shoestring budget titles make a profit? But from the perspective of the player…that’s just messed up. SO…how to experience these characters and this story for yourself, without giving in to these miserly fiends? Simple: watch a walkthrough on YouTube. There are actually a couple of channels with walkthroughs of this specific game available online, it seems to be one of the most popular titles Genius Inc. has produced. I can see why: out of all the games I’ve looked at so far from this company, this one is probably my favorite, as I feel it has the strongest and best-written story out of all the ones I’ve seen. So, if you don’t know about this game and want to learn more about these lads, head to the magical YouTube and start looking. It may not be worth playing, but it’s definitely worth checking out.

“But wait!” I hark thou wail. “What of the other game you mentioned? What is it?! Is it on YouTube as well?!”

Patience, my little ducklings, patience…I’ll get to THAT business another time… ;)

[smash-or-pass-otome]

Hook from A Villain's Twisted Heart

Hook

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: The Pirate's Enchanted Locket

Prompt: Y/n has an ancient locket that transports her to The Isle of the Lost. Captured by Harry Hook, he initially suspects her of being a spy. As he grows fascinated by her, he defends her against a rival gang’s attack. In a moment of intense emotion, Harry confesses his feelings.

Reader: Female

Word count: 3584

Average reading time: 13 min

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains themes involving emotional distress, fear, and harassment. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the restless sea. Y/N stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Clutched in her hand was an ancient locket, a mysterious inheritance from her mother that promised to bring you what your heart desires the most. The locket felt warm in her palm, as if it had a life of its own, pulsating with a gentle rhythm. As she carefully opened the locket, wisps of magic light surrounded her, pulling her through time and space.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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When the light faded, Y/N found herself on the deck of a pirate ship, the grimy structure silhouetted against the dark waters of the Isle of the Lost. The smell of saltwater and smog filled the air, and the sound of creaking wood and flapping sails was almost deafening. Disoriented, she stumbled across the deck, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The ship was bustling with activity, rough looking pirates shouted orders and heaved ropes, their faces shadowed by the dim lantern light.

Harry Hook, Uma’s fierce first mate, appeared, his sharp eyes immediately spotting her. He was a tall figure, his dark hair hiding underneath a black pirate hat, a silver hook gleaming dangerously in place of his left hand.

“What do we have here?” Harry’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. His accent was thick, his tone dripping with suspicion. “Someone trying hide, or perhaps a thief?”

Y/N’s heart raced. She had heard the stories of these pirates, the children of villains of old tales, but never imagined she would meet them. “I’m not here to steal anything. I was just—”

“Save your breath, Lass,” Harry interrupted, his voice cold and commanding. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t take kindly to intruders. Especially ones who appear out of thin air.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Harry took her arm with surprising strength and dragged her below deck. The narrow, dark passageways twisted and turned, lit only by the occasional flickering torch. Other pirates stared as they passed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.

They reached a small, dark cell at the far end of the ship. Harry shoved her inside, and the heavy clang of the iron door as it shut behind her resonated with finality. The cell was cold and damp, the air thick with the smell of rust. Y/N sank to the floor, her mind racing with confusion and fear.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered, clutching the locket tightly. She could still feel its warmth, a faint reassurance in the darkness. 

Time passed slowly in the cell. The sounds of the ship and the ocean were muffled, creating a deafening silence. Y/N's thoughts were a whirlwind of worry and regret. She thought of her grandmother’s stories, the tales of magic and adventure that now seemed all too real.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the door creaked open. A confident pirate girl, with turquoise braids and a mischievous glint in her eyes, entered. It was Uma, the sea witch’s daughter and the ship’s captain.

“Well, well,” Uma said, her voice smooth and taunting. “What do we have here? A little runaway, or maybe something more?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Uma’s. Gathering her courage, she replied, “I’m not a runaway. I was brought here by magic. This locket” she held it up, its faint glow illuminating the small cell, “it brought me here.”

Uma’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the locket. She leaned closer, inspecting it with interest. “That’s no ordinary locket.” she murmured. “Where did you get this?”

“My mother.” Y/N answered truthfully. “She said it would bring me what my heart desires the most.”

Uma’s expression shifted, a calculating look in her eyes. “And what does your heart desire, little one?”

Y/N hesitated. “Adventure,” she said finally. “And maybe something more.”

Uma laughed, a sound both sweet yet disturbing. “You might just get what you wish for,” she said. “But remember, magic always comes with a price.”

With that, Uma left, leaving Y/N alone in the dim cell but with nothing but her thoughts and a glimmer of hope. She clutched the locket tighter, its warmth still present.

-----

Days passed in the cell, at first Harry occasionally came to check on their prisoner by Uma’s order. But soon Harry’s visits became more frequent, yet the fear of her situation never quite faded. The walls, slick with dampness and grime, seemed to press in on Y/N, their oppressive presence a constant reminder of her imprisonment. Yet, each day, as Harry’s visits became more regular, a subtle shift began to take place.

Harry’s demeanor, once arrogant and indifferent, softened. His initial curiosity about Y/N’s resilience grew into genuine interest. He began to linger longer during their conversations, and the tone of his voice, previously sharp and commanding, carried an undertone of care. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken connection that neither of them acknowledged directly but both felt deeply.

One evening, as the cell was bathed in the dim, flickering light of a single bulb, Y/N’s curiosity overcame her usual caution. She looked up from her seated position against the wall, her face illuminated by the pale light, and asked, “Why do you keep coming here?”

Harry leaned against the bars, his usual arrogance tempered by a weariness that spoke of long, restless days. His expression was a blend of annoyance and hesitant interest, a reflection of the internal struggle he faced. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Lass. You’ve got spirit.”

Y/N’s eyes met his with a mixture of resistance and fatigue. “I don’t cower.” she said, her voice carrying a steely edge. “I just don’t see the point in making things worse.”

Harry’s gaze softened slightly, revealing a glimpse of the conflict within him. He crossed his arms, his posture less rigid than usual. “You’ve got a point. It’s not every day someone ends up on Uma’s ship with nothing but a locket.”

The mention of the locket brought a flicker of emotion to Y/N’s eyes. It was a small, delicate piece of jewelry, a token from a life that seemed impossibly distant now. “The locket belonged to my mother.” she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s all I have left of her.”

Harry’s expression changed as he looked at her. The hardened exterior he maintained was marred by a rare hint of empathy. He looked at the locket as if seeing it for the first time, acknowledging the significance it held for Y/N. “She must’ve meant a lot to you.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “She did. And it’s more than just a memory. It’s a reminder that there was a time before all this, a time when things were different.”

For a moment, the cell fell into a thoughtful silence. Harry seemed to wrestle with his own thoughts, the weight of Y/N’s words evident in the furrow of his brow. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You know, Lass, you’re not what I expected. There’s something about you, something that makes me think maybe, just maybe, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Y/N’s gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes searching his for any sign of him lying. “And what does that mean for me?”

Harry’s expression was unreadable, a mask of guarded contemplation. “It means,” he said slowly, “that you’re not entirely alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, there’s more to be learned from each other than either of us thought.”

As the silence stretched between them, the tension in the cell seemed to ease, if only slightly. Harry moved closer to the bars, his fingers gripping the cold metal as he leaned in, his face inches from Y/N’s. “Why do you trust me enough to talk about her?” he asked, his voice a hushed murmur.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t know if I trust you,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “But I think you’re different from most. There’s something in you that’s... kind.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, a mixture of frustration and longing flickering in their depths. “Kindness is a dangerous thing around here.” he warned, his voice barely audible. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re bringing out a part of me I thought I’d lost.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the cell seemed to disappear. The tension between them crackled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Harry’s hand reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Harry...” Y/N’s voice was a breathless whisper, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice heavy with an emotion he couldn’t name. “Be careful. This... whatever this is between us... it’s dangerous.”

Y/N’s hand covered his, their fingers entwining through the cold metal bars. “I know.” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

Harry’s eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re something else, Lass. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I promise you this, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

-----

The nights grew colder, and Harry’s visits became a small comfort. However, one fateful night, the tranquility shattered as the ship was attacked by a rival gang of villains. The sounds of battle swords clashing, men shouting filled the air, growing louder as the intruders neared.

Y/N's heart pounded as the chaos drew closer, each step of the invaders echoing her rising dread. The cold metal of her cell door creaked open violently, the sound slicing through the din like a knife. A rough hand yanked her from her confinement, dragging her into the harsh light of the battle-torn deck.

"Look what we have here," one of the attackers sneered, his breath hot and foul against her ear. He gripped her waist with brutal force, his fingers digging into her skin. "A pretty little thing, aren’t you?"

Terror surged through her veins as she struggled against his iron grip. Another attacker, his eyes gleaming with malice, leaned in close, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.

"Why don’t you give us a kiss, darling?" he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. Y/N turned her head away, revulsion twisting her stomach.

“Get away from me!” she cried, her voice trembling with fear. She twisted in their grasp, desperate to escape their leering faces and grasping hands.

"Help! Someone, please!" Y/N’s voice trembled, barely audible over the surrounding tumult. Her pleas seemed swallowed by the night, lost in the brutal frenzy.

Her captors laughed at her desperation, their taunts ringing in her ears. “Scream all you want, girl. No one’s coming for you.”

But they were wrong.

Harry’s blood boiled when he saw the attackers’ rough treatment of Y/N. With a roar that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he burst onto the deck, his sword gleaming with deadly intent. His eyes blazed with fury, locked onto Y/N even as he swung his weapon with lethal precision.

"Back off, you scurvy dogs!" Harry's voice was a thunderclap of rage. "Touch her again, and I’ll have you all walk the plank!"

The attackers hesitated, the ferocity of Harry’s assault breaking their resolve. They had underestimated him, and now they were paying the price. One by one, they began to retreat, their faces pale with fear as Harry cut a swath through their ranks, his determination an unmistakable force.

The attacker holding Y/N released her, shoving her roughly to the ground. She scrambled back, her heart racing, watching as Harry fought like a man possessed. Each swing of his sword was a vow to protect her, his movements a blur of deadly grace.

One of the attackers, emboldened by desperation, lunged at Harry with a dagger. Harry parried the blow effortlessly, his sword flashing in the dim light as he disarmed and incapacitated the man with brutal efficiency.

When the last of the attackers had fled into the night, Harry's attention turned to Y/N. She stood trembling, her face pale, tears carving silent paths down her cheeks. Her eyes met his, wide and haunted, a mix of fear and relief swirling in their depths.

Harry approached her slowly, his expression softening, the pirate's fury melting into concern. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch a grounding anchor against the storm of her emotions.

“It’s over now,” Harry said softly, his voice a soothing balm against her raw nerves. “You’re safe.”

Y/N collapsed against him, her body wracked with sobs. Harry held her tightly, his embrace a shield against the horrors of tonight. For a moment, the world was reduced to the two of them, the warmth of his presence pushing back the cold grip of fear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I was so scared…”

“I know,” Harry murmured, his hand stroking her hair gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.”

-----

His arms wrapped around her, carefully lifting her in his arms. Y/N’s heart fluttered as she felt his warmth and strength surrounding her. She buried her face in his neck, her tears flowing freely. The world outside seemed to fade as Harry carried her through the remaining chaos, his movements both strong and tender.

“Harry…” Y/N’s voice was muffled against his skin. “They—they were touching me… I was so scared.”

Harry’s breath hitched at her words. He tightened his embrace, his heart aching at the thought of her suffering. He carried her to his quarters, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light around the room. Gently, he set her down on the bed and knelt beside her, his eyes full of concern.

“No one will ever touch you like that again,” Harry vowed, his voice firm yet gentle. “I swear it on my life.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and increasing affection. “Thank you for protecting me, Harry. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Harry’s gaze softened. He brushed a stray tear from her cheek, his touch light and comforting. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re mine to protect, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

The room was filled with an intense, charged silence. Harry’s hand gently cupped Y/N’s cheek as he leaned in closer. His gaze was locked on hers, his eyes burning with a mixture of fierce protectiveness and deep affection. 

Slowly, he pulled her closer, his hook wrapping around her waist in a tender embrace. With a gentle yet firm grip, he tilted her chin up with his other hand. The proximity between them was electric, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Harry’s lips hovered near hers.

Without breaking eye contact, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, a soft, reassuring touch that spoke of his promises and his unspoken feelings. As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, filled with the urgency of their emotions and the relief of their survival.

Y/N’s hands found their way to Harry’s chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself in the moment.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the warm, intimate space, Harry’s eyes were filled with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that Y/N recognized as love.

“I’m yours.” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “I want to stay here with you. I want to be where I belong.”

Harry’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride and tenderness. “And I’m yours, Lass. I’d let the world flood if it means knowing you are safe.”

Y/N felt a profound sense of safety wash over her. She reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of Harry’s face, committing every detail to memory. The flickering lantern light played off his features, casting shadows that danced and flickered with a life of their own. 

“I never knew I could feel this way,” she admitted, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “Like I’m whole when I’m with you.”

Harry’s expression softened even further, and he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her palm. “You complete me, Y/N. You’re my strength and my reason. I’d do anything to see you smile again.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy and overwhelming emotion. “You already have,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You saved me, Harry. In more ways than one.”

Harry’s eyes glittered with unshed tears of his own as he pulled her into another embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. They sat there for a long moment, holding each other, finding comfort and strength in their shared connection.

Finally, Harry pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a serious expression. “We’ll face whatever comes next together. You and me. No one can stand against us.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of determination filling her. “Together.” she agreed, her voice steady and confident. “Always.”

They stayed close, the warmth of their bodies mingling as they found comfort in each other's presence. Outside, the world continued its relentless march, but inside Harry’s quarters, time seemed to stand still, allowing them a precious moment of peace and love.

Harry brushed his lips against her forehead, a gentle promise of his unwavering commitment. “Rest now, Lass. You’re safe with me.”

With a sigh of contentment, Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax fully for the first time in what felt like forever.

-----

With the dawn of a new day, Y/N knew she had to make a choice. The locket’s magic had brought her here, but if she wanted to truly stay with Harry, she had to break the bond that tethered her to her world. Without hesitation, she took her mothers locket no matter how much it meant to her and broke it, the magic dissolving into the morning light.

Harry watched her with a mixture of pride and deep affection. As the last piece of the locket crumbled, he pulled her into a close embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

“You’ve chosen to stay,” he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. “And I’ll be here, always.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a profound sense of belonging.

He took a deep breath, the weight of his words heavy with promise. “I want more for you than just this Isle of the Lost. You deserve a life full of beauty and opportunity, not one mired in darkness and danger. I’ll get us out of here. We’ll find our way to Auradon, and I’ll give you the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling with emotion. “Harry, I don’t care where we go or what we do, as long as I’m with you. You’re my home.”

Harry’s gaze softened. “Then we’ll make a new home together. I promise you, Lass, I’ll fight every step of the way to give you the life you deserve.”

As they were completely lost in each other's embrace, the door to Harry’s quarters creaked open. Uma, the formidable pirate queen and Harry’s captain, stepped inside. Her eyes flared with curiosity and a hint of amusement as she took in the scene before her.

“Well, well, well,” Uma drawled, her voice filled with her usual commanding presence. “Seems like you two have been busy. Thought I’d check in on my first mate and supposed to be prisoner.”

Harry’s posture stiffened, but he quickly masked his surprise with a smirk. “Just taking care of things, Uma.”

Uma’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Y/N. “You’ve caused quite a stir, girl. This place is no vacation. But if Harry’s vouching for you, you must be something special.”

Y/N, feeling a bit awkward under Uma’s scrutiny, managed a small smile. “I’m just trying to find my way.”

Uma nodded, her expression becoming more serious. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you’d better be prepared. Life here isn’t exactly gentle.”

“I’ve learned that the hard way,” Y/N admitted.

Uma’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. Because you’ll need all the strength you can get. But if you’re with Harry, that’s a good start. He’s not one to take chances with those he cares about.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, who looked back at her with a mixture of pride and affection. Uma’s approval meant something—especially if it meant a smoother journey ahead.

“Well, since you’re both set on staying,” Uma continued, her tone softer, “let’s make sure you’re prepared. Harry, we need to talk about our next move. And you, Y/N, might as well come along. If you’re with Harry, you’ll be part of the crew. It’s best to know what you’re getting into.”

With Uma’s words hanging in the air, Y/N felt a newfound sense of determination. As Harry’s hand slipped into hers, she knew they were on the brink of a new chapter, one that promised adventure, challenges, and a future built together.

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[too-much-tma-stuff]

Let Me Take Care of You (18+)

requested by @transparentgayprotector: Dead serious, soulmate au, post battle hook up but sweet

-----

It was always a complete joy to Damian when he got watch his soulmate fight. He understood now that strength was not the ends all and be all of life but he still preened openly at having such a powerful and regal life partner.

Today Damian had the absolute joy of backing his lover up while he fought one of his rogues. Well, technically there were a few of the other bats here but he was clearly the most helpful. They were taking care of any summons the villain attempted to throw at them so that Danny could focus on the main fight. Damian might have resented that but he knew perfectly well how strong Danny was.

It had been a hard fight for all involved at first, until the fool of a rogue realized how completely outclassed they were an how little good their pathetic mobs were actually doing. They had dropped all their summons to focus on Danny and Damian had been able to sit back and enjoy the show of power and force. He wished he had brought some snacks to enjoy the show, perhaps that would keep him from getting so hot under the collar.

Damian could have purred when Danny sent the villain twice his size running. "Welcome back Phantom," Damian greeted, reaching up for Danny as he drifted down to them. "Are you injured?"

"No, don't worry I'm fine," Danny said, resting his hands in Damian's, so pale compared to his own, like holding snow.

"Are you sure? You know I'd feel much better if you let me check," Damian said, pulling Danny down closer to him.

"What? No really I'm okay-" Danny started before Damian yanked him close.

"Please Beloved, take me home," Damian purred in Danny's ear, his voice soft and sultry.

"Oh- Oh, ya of course," Danny said, blushing bright green, it made his star-like freckles stand out all the more on his cheeks. It was adorable, how something so powerful could be so precious Damian would never understand.

He glanced around to make sure there wasn't to much damage as he touched down on the ground and wrapped his arms around Damian's waist. "Thank you all so much for your help, I owe you one!" He said, his voice pitching up just a little when Damian wrapped his arms around Danny's shoulders and nuzzled against his throat.

"Ya, ya you're welcome! Now take him home before he jumps you in front of all of us," Jason teased them, Damian could only grin to himself about how correct Todd was.

"Right, Well, thanks again," Danny said sounding Very flustered before he ripped open a portal and pulled Damian through with him.

Damian was very pleased when they landed directly on the bed, his love knew him so well! Damian got comfortable straddling Danny's waist and kissed him slow and passionate. Damian hummed when Danny cupped his face and kissed back.

Damian saw a bright flash through his eyelids and when he opened his eyes he could see Danny's living skin, warmer and less freckled, his now blue eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together in adorable concentration as he focused on the kiss. It made Damian's heart swell and the branching scars of Danny's electrification tingle in his chest and down his arm.

Damian broke the kiss and leaned back, unbuttoning Danny's blue shirt, he leaned down and kissed the scar on his chest, from Damian's own death. The lightning scars had long since faded on Danny's living skin but they lived forever on Damian's, the scar on Damian's chest had been overwritten when he was resurrected, but it lived forever on Danny's.

"I love you," Damian murmured against Danny's twisted skin, vulnerable and true.

"I love you too," Danny replied, running his fingers through Damian's hair. He had none of the trouble Damian did when it came to giving and receiving love. Early on in their relationship Damian had almost been jealous of how easily Danny got along with his family, how quickly he let them in and how easily they loved him. He was long since over that now though, he was just grateful that Danny was fated to be his.

Damian made a soft sound of acknowledgment and moved to the edge of the bed to kick off the boots he was still wearing. While he did Danny shrugged off his button down and went to undo his own shoes. Damian tutted and pushed him back down, deft hands undoing the laces of Danny's shoes and pulling them off himself, Danny's socks were too large and came off along with them.

Damian's deft and knife callused fingers curled around the back of Danny's heel, pressing a kiss to his ankle. Danny's breath hitched slightly in his throat, Damian knew that Danny was a King, nearly a god, and how uncomfortable he was with the roll. Danny did not want to be worshiped, at least not in that way, in bed was a different story.

He kissed up Danny's leg, his shin, above his knee, his thigh, then his stomach just above the waist of his jeans. He undid Danny's pants and pushed them down slowly, nuzzling against his hip fondly. Danny watched him, wide eyed and flushed, letting Damian have his way and Oh how Damian loved having his way with such a powerful man.

He chuckled breathlessly when Danny's dick practically jumped free of his underwear once they were pushed down. Danny let out a soft whimper, an eager little sound he simply couldn't hold back. Adorable~

Damian nuzzled the underside of Danny's dick making him gasp and grab the sheets, his other hand flying to Damian's hair. He didn't pull or push, just held on and let Damian do as he pleased, so Damian continued, secure in the knowledge that if he wanted to Danny absolutely could stop him.

Damian let Danny's member slip between his lips, soft and warm as it nudged against the back of his pallet. He hummed contentedly as he drew a moan from his lover. He closed his lips around the engorged flesh and started sucking, his mouth watering as he bobbed his head, his saliva dripping down along the length he couldn't quite fit in his mouth.

He pulled back, letting Danny's dick fall from his mouth with a small pop that made Danny's breath stutter. The sound made him smirk. "Pass me the oil please Love," Damian requested while still slowly stroking Danny's dick.

"Sure," Danny breathed, sitting up and reaching over to the bedside table, scrabbling through the drawer for the body safe oil they used as lube. While he did Damian took the chance to strip the rest of his own clothes.

Danny handed the lube over, his eyes roaming over Damian's body. he smiled and sat back to let Danny look, he knew he was painfully hard as well, but he wasn't thinking about that, too focused on Danny at the moment. He saw the way Danny's pupils dilated when he was planning to pounce and beat him to it, swooping down to kiss the other man and hold him down without any real force.

Damian knew his intention was enough to keep Danny firmly on his back right now. "Let me take care of you," Damian crooned. He straddled Danny's waist and leaned back, bracing one hand on Danny's knee so he had a good view as Damian started to work himself open slowly. He knew he looked good, and it made him feel good being watched like this, to be enjoyed by his lover.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous," Danny breathed, reaching up slowly enough that Damian could have said no. When he didn't Danny ran his hands over Damian's toned chest and taught stomach, settling for holding his hips and helping hold the angle as Damian tried not to focus to much on his own pleasure.

"Alright," He murmured to himself, letting out a shuddering breath as he pulled out his own fingers once he was lose enough. He shifted down, lining himself up with Danny's cock and holding it carefully with one hand as he lowered himself with a long shuddering moan.

The sound of pleasure Danny let out when he bottomed out inside Damian was particularly inhuman. He'd been self conscious of those little snarls and wails at first but Damian loved them. They made his skin pebble in goose flesh and a shiver run down his spine, a tiny little twist of fear to add spice to his pleasure.

He leaned forward, shifting and swiveling his hips slowly until he found the angle that felt best and most comfortable. Beneath him Danny's breathing came fast and shallow, his grip on Damian's hips turning bruising as he struggled to control himself. Still Damian wasn't actually scared, he knew his beloved would never hurt him.

"Ohhh," he sighed when he found just the right position and quickly pushed himself up so he could sink back down. His moan was pleasant backing vocals for Danny's snarl as he threw his head back. Damian gave a breathless laugh and started riding Danny quickly having just about used up Both of their patience.

He kept his own noises soft, little gasps and moans, not because he needed to but because he wanted to hear Danny. His own pleasure was incidental and inevitable as he worked to draw as many varied noises as he could from his Lover.

"Damian! Damian, I'm going to cum," Danny warmed breathlessly.

"Good, me too," Damian breathed.

Damian let out a startled yelp when Danny sat up quickly, surging up to kiss Damian almost to hard, holding him tight as Damian came, shuddering and collapsing in Danny's arms. Shivering with the odd combination of disgust and delight that came with being covered in and filled with both their orgasmic fluid.

"Straight to the shower?" Danny asked, sounding amused. He knew Damian so well.

"Yes please. Carry me," Damian demanded imperiously for the sole purpose of making Danny laugh. Which it did, even as he did exactly what Damian asked and scooped him up in a bridal carry.

[chaotic-orphan]

Hi, hope you’re having a nice day!! Love your writing :) Could you please continue heroic betrayal if you’re planning to?? Not to rush you or anything, it’s just got me slightly hooked oops! Thank you!! :)

HEROIC BETRAYAL (6)

Part one here

Continued from here

This part has had so many drafts, so so many, because I couldn’t get Supervillain right at all, and today? For some reason! It all just flowed! So you are in luck! It’s the paddy’s day weekend, struck gold! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in a tense silence that made Hero squirm. The two of them were always chatting, or having banter back and forth. When they fell into a silence it was an easy one that never felt awkward or uncomfortable. Now, with Flynn marching Hero up a set of stairs, it felt as if they were two strangers. As if Flynn was actually a Villain.

He is, a voice sniped in the back of Hero’s mind. Flynn is a villain. The lie was his Hero façade.

Hero kept their guard up as they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs. Hero expected to be greeted with the view of a warehouse, or some top secret villain base. Maybe something from the movies, or an equal to the Hero tower HQ.

Instead, their gaze found a house. Hero frowned, wanting to turn their head and comment on it to Flynn but they didn’t. They refused. Flynn didn’t deserve their comments or thoughts on anything anymore.

“Through here,” said Flynn, pulling Hero to the right. Hero caught only a glance of the framed pictures hanging on the wall, of Flynn and Villain as children and a man and woman smiling in the picture above them. Hero swallowed.

Were they in Flynn’s childhood home this entire time?

It’s not what Hero expected at all. It was clean, almost pristinely so with wooden oak floors and a warm, homely feel to it. Clean and yet lived in.

Hero closed their lips, and just let Flynn guide them through another door into a dining room. Hero’s brows raised to the ceiling, looking at Flynn in question before they could help it.

Flynn curled his top lip inward, his tell for when he was embarrassed. “Supervillain insisted,” he said by way of explanation and brought Hero to the end of the table. It sat six people, two chairs on each end and two on both sides.

Flynn pulled out Hero’s chair and quirked his lips at them. “Can I trust you not to do something stupid?”

“You can always stop me if I do,” Hero replied sweetly, sugared smile not quite meeting their eyes.

Flynn’s smile was cold in return. “I can. Or Villain, whichever is quicker.”

Hero felt that cruel pang of betrayal bloom in their heart like a rose’s thorns wrapped thick around it. Hero didn’t reply to that, they just sat down on the chair lifting their handcuffed hands onto the wooden table and let Flynn push in their chair.

Flynn sat beside them, on their right. Hero could have laughed at the horribleness of it all. Flynn sat on Hero’s right because after endless sparring they had both realised it was Hero’s weaker hand. If Hero was going to do something stupid, going for their right hand side would be easier to subdue than their left.

How had they not seen the warning signs? How had they not realised that Flynn was working against them this entire time?

Hero trusted them. They thought if the world ever went to shit, or turned against them, Hero could turn to Flynn and still find a home in him.

Now all their trust was twisted against them mercilessly, and Flynn was a stranger who could smile at them with a bloodied face — and possibly broken nose — and threaten to have the person who broke it hurt them more.

Hero heard movement and voices behind the two doors in front of them, different than the door that Flynn and Hero entered the room through. There was a lively bustling of movement and then a man in his late thirties, early forties walked through the doors with a wide friendly smile holding two plates of something.

He had wavy brown hair, slightly overgrown around the edges, some strands tucked behind his ears Hero noticed. His eyes were sea-coloured, somewhere between green and blue, but shining with a happiness that Hero didn’t expect of Supervillain.

Then it hit Hero that they were staring at Supervillain. The Supervillain! Hero’s nemesis, their foe— the man who was always one step ahead of Hero. Hero glanced at Flynn, almost mutinously before Supervillain drew Hero’s attention back to them.

Supervillain set a plate of food in front of Hero with a big smile, then walked around Hero and placed one in front of Flynn. It was what looked like roast chicken and green beans and roast potatoes. Hero stared down at it, their mouth watering slightly and a gnawing yearning in their gut for food.

How long had they been here? Overnight at least because it was day time at the moment. Hero looked at Flynn. Flynn glanced at Hero then to Hero’s plate and dragged it over to him.

“Hey—”

“Relax, I’m just cutting up your chicken. You’re not getting a knife.”

Hero waited, watching Flynn cut up the food. Then they sat back against their chair, eyes going to the doors to see Supervillain was gone. Flynn pushed Hero’s plate back in front of them. Then Supervillain came through again followed closely by Villain, a shadow like fist holding something that was dropped in front of Hero. It smacked against the table lightly with a bounce and Hero realised it was a plastic fork.

Everyone else had proper utensils.

Hero waited until Supervillain and Villain sat down before speaking. “If you think I’m eating this, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Supervillain’s smile didn’t dim. “As you like it, Hero. Though, if I drugged you with the chicken or the vegetables I would have drugged us all.”

Hero didn’t move to grab the fork, no matter how much their stomach wanted them to. Flynn grabbed Hero’s plate, “we can swap if you like.”

Hero’s head snapped to him. “And how do I know this wasn’t all some planned ploy?”

“You don’t,” said Flynn honestly, meeting Hero’s gaze earnestly. Hero had to look away before they cried. Stupid fucking Flynn.

“If I may,” said Supervillain, his voice smooth and steady, drawing Hero’s gaze. “If I wanted to starve you, I wouldn’t have plated you up a meal. I would have handcuffed you to the chair and let you smell the food and watch us eat.”

Hero swallowed, gaze hardening into a glare as Supervillain tilted his head and shrugged lightly. “However, if you don’t want to eat I won’t force you.”

Hero sat back stubbornly, eyes not leaving Supervillain as he tucked into his divine smelling meal.

“Flynn said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do,” Supervillain replied. “As soon as we have eaten. It’s bad for the stomach to mix work and pleasure.”

Hero blinked at him, then stared back at their plate. The steam was still rising from it, begging for Hero to eat it. Hero swallowed again, finally reaching for the fork that was discarded in front of their plate.

Nobody at the table made any remarks as Hero took their first bite of chicken. They didn’t even feel eyes on them as they ate, and with every bite the possibility of the food being drugged became less and less important as they filled the hole in their stomach.

All too soon their plate was empty and Hero set their fork back on the plate, sitting back in their seat, satisfied. Supervillain smiled at them from across the table.

“Well?”

Hero swallowed. “Really good.”

Supervillain’s smile beamed at them. “Good. Flynn, would you and Villain mind cleaning up?”

Flynn’s eyes went between Hero and Supervillain, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Supervillain looked at him. It stifled the words in his throat and he nodded and gathered his and Hero’s plate. “Sure.”

Villain did the same with their and Supervillain’s plate. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”

Flynn cast one last look over his shoulder at Hero, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then the double doors shut on both of them and it was just Hero and Supervillain alone.

Hero’s chest got tighter at the realisation. How many times had they longed to get to sit down with Supervillain and pick his brain on his strategies and plans? How long had they wanted to know his motivations behind it all? What the bigger picture was…

Now, Hero wanted to be anywhere but here.

Supervillain leaned forward, elbows resting on the table hands folded in front of him. “Flynn tells me you’re a fan of mine.”

Hero scoffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call myself a fan.”

“Of course,” he replied pleasantly. “A hero would never admire a villain after all.”

“That’s in the job description.”

“Tell me, did you ever admire Flynn?”

Hero’s eyes snapped back to Supervillain. His smile was less pleasant now, more shrewd. Intelligent, inquisitive, intimidating— his eyes narrowed in curiosity, the corners of his lips still quirked into a smile.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He was always a Villain.”

“Yes. However, that is not what I asked you.” Supervillain said lightly, not letting Hero off the hook. Hero swallowed in reply. “Did you ever admire Flynn?”

“Yes,” said Hero patiently. They couldn’t lose their cool now, they had to match Supervillain’s relaxed demeanour. “He was my partner. Obviously I admired him.”

Supervillain let out a breath. “Tut, tut, Hero. He’s a villain. How can a Hero ever admire a Villain?”

“If you want to get into some philosophical debate I’d rather Villain bash my nose against the bars of my cell again.”

Supervillain’s lips pursed. “If you like.”

The words ran like cold water down Hero’s spine. “However,” he continued, “I’d rather pick your brain before Villain rips it from your skull.”

Hero swallowed the lump that was rising in their throat. How can he be so nonchalant about telling Hero that he had no reservations about Villain killing them? It isn’t anything like Hero thought he would be.

“You wouldn’t let them,” said Hero licking their lips, making an effort not to make a face at the taste of salt and iron of dried blood dancing along their tastebuds.

Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. “No?”

“No,” Hero echoed then swallowed. “Even if you did let Villain hurt me or torture me, or whatever, you wouldn’t let them kill me. You’d rather draw it out slowly.”

Supervillain raised his hands, elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them as he stared at Hero. His sea green eyes looked stormy now, the twisting murky colour piercing through Hero’s soul. His smile was anything but friendly now.

Now, he looked like Supervillain, like Hero expected him to be. Confident, perspicacious, formidable. This was the opponent Hero had been playing alongside across the city for months now. Hero noticed their heart beating faster in their chest.

“And you say you’re not a fan,” Supervillain said, a perceptible knowing coating every smooth syllable.

“I’m not a fan of you hurting people. Killing people.”

“And yet it’s all you heroes ever seem to respond to.” Hero’s retort died in their throat. “If it takes violence to goad you out of your precious hero tower, then I will resort to violence.”

Goading? What goading? Hero’s brows furrowed down over their eyes, shadowing them slightly as their mind ran over Supervillain’s words.

“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed fondly. “Flynn said you have a look when you’re trying to solve a riddle, this must be it.”

“I don’t have a look,” Hero spat, ignoring the blush that coloured their cheeks.

“Of course you do, dear Hero. We all do. That’s why in poker you have to learn to mask your tells.”

“Are we playing poker, Supervillain?”

“No, hardly. Though I’d wager I could win your money as easy as it took me to tank that developmental property on seventh.”

Hero hope their glare was burning a hole through Supervillain’s skull until they realised they were playing right into his hands and dissolving. Hero licked their lips and leaned forward in their chair too, hands clasped on the table in front of them.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? You wanted me to follow Villain. You wanted them to catch me,” Hero said. Them was much easier than saying Flynn out loud.

Supervillain smiled appraisingly. “Yes.”

“And bring me here to meet you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Supervillain’s eyes flashed, something glinting within them. “Because Hero, I’ve wanted to meet you as much as you’ve wanted to meet me.”

Hero held up their cuffed hands. “Couldn’t have done it more civilly?”

“Oh please,” Supervillain scoffed, resting his palms flat on the table and pushing his chair back. Hero’s heartbeat quickened as Supervillain stood up and started making his way slowly, predatorily slowly, towards Hero like a cat playing with a mouse. Hero wanted to not move, to not show him the effect he had on Hero, but their body didn’t get the message. The closer Supervillain came to Hero the more they shrunk back into the chair, hands braced on the table ready to spring to their feet and — and then what?

Supervillain stopped beside Hero’s chair, one hand on the back of it, the other hooking a finger around the small length of chain that kept Hero’s wrists locked together. He pulled it up, Hero’s arms going with it involuntarily until Supervillain held Hero’s arms up high over their head.

Hero grit their teeth as their shoulders strained from their sitting position.

“We both knew one of us would have to be in chains for us to be able to chat,” said Supervillain tilting his head. All friendliness had melted from his face leaving a cold grin and hungry eyes feasting off the sight of Hero at his table. “I just decided it wasn’t going to be me.”

Hero tugged their arms down suddenly but they may as well not have for the lot of good it did them. Supervillain leaned down, his face close to Hero’s as he grinned.

“You should have struck first, little Hero. Then maybe the roles would be reversed, but as of right now—” Supervillain’s eyes darkened. “I control the board.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Rollo-shi?! Since when did you get here? N-No, I’m not reading any suspicious material!! Leave my manga alone, nooo don’t take it!

This interaction made me think about how MAD Rollo would be if he learned about how many doujins there are of him (many of which ship him with Malleus) 😂 Man would have an aneurysm…

Like Fire, Hellfire.

An otaku’s distressed wails carried down the hallways, but ultimately fell upon deaf ears. Hear no evil, see no evil. Grimacing, Rollo calmly held Idia’s manga out of reach.

“Idia-kun,” he said sternly, the name like poison on his thin lips, “you’ve at last decided to show your face in the classroom, and you bring in unsolicited materials on your person? It was already highly inappropriate enough for any student, let alone a dorm leader, to be absent from their professor's lectures—”

“It’s an exam day,” Idia lamented. “It's in-person only, I had no choice to opt out…”

“—but this crosses a line. Only notebooks and textbooks are permitted in a school environment,” Rollo continued. He waved around the volume in his grasp. “I’ll be confiscating this. You may collect it once you’ve properly reflected on your actions and repented for them.”

Idia’s jaw dropped. “I-I bought that with my own money. You can't just take what's not yours!! What are you, a Thief using his Steal skill on a helpless background NPC?!"

Rollo shuddered at the single word: thief.

Him? A villain, simply for enforcing what was right? What was just?

The stone walls Rollo had built up around his heart trembled, threatening to give way to a great inferno of rage.

Have patience, Rollo instructed himself. He took a slow cooling, calming breath. Do not let a single miscreant rile you up. You are stronger than that.

Still, he frowned at Idia. “You have some nerve accusing me of common thievery. Is it not common sense to punish those who violate the laws of the land?”

But Idia paid no attention to his scolding. Instead, his eyes, fixated on his kidnapped manga, bulged grotesquely. Rollo's grip on it had tightened, his neatly trimmed nails biting into the volume.

"Y-You're going to ruin the cover art!!" Idia hissed through his teeth, features twisting in visible agony. "You're trampling all over the mangaka's blood, sweat, and tears!!"

Rollo's face remained neutral, but gaze held a sick sort of satisfaction. There was a thrill to witnessing a worm writhe on a hook. Well deserved, he added.

"If you take issue with it, you may plead your case to Mozus-sensei. and beg for his forgiveness."

"Wh-What?!" Idia's stomach dropped, and his chalky complexion somehow paled even more. His next words came out as a squeak. "Y-You're not... You're not going to hold onto my manga yourself?"

"Of course not!" Rollo scoffed. "I have no interest in maintaining your belongings. What's more, if I did keep your book in my possession, you would only approach me again in the future—and the fewer direct interactions we have, the better."

"Y-You can't hand it to Trein-sensei!!" Idia insisted. His voice, typically no louder than a meek murmur, had turned into a frantic, shaky shout.

Mob students were starting to stare. Embarrassed, Idia receded further into his hoodie.

"Oh?" Rollo quirked a brow. An evil smirk slowly spread onto his mouth, relishing in the delicious taste of triumph. “You seem to be rather distraught over the prospect. Could it be that you’ve recognized the true weight of your sin? Perhaps you’re more clever than I initially took you for.”

To this, Idia snorted. “Yeah, right. Like anyone’d listen to your delusional chuunibyou ravings and actually agree with them.”

“Hmph, unfortunate. Then you must be concerned for some other reason.”

Rollo’s eyes narrowed, considering Idia’s initial exaggerated reaction. The unprompted claim that he wasn’t reading any “suspicious material”…

A light went off in Rollo’s head. It was accompanied by a flood of nauseating revulsion. He fumbled for his handkerchief and pressed it to his nose, glaring accusatorially at Idia.

“… Could it be that this book contains salacious content you don’t wish for an instructor to witness?”

His flaming hair colored, pink fading into blue at the tips. It was all Rollo needed to see to ascertain Idia’s guilt.

He crushed his handkerchief and lowered it, revealing a jaw set firmly with disapproval. “I should have expected nothing less from someone of your dubious character! Have you no shame?!”

“Y-You’d never understand the ways of an otaku…!!” Idia snapped. He lurched toward Rollo, making a desperate grab for his manga. “N-Now give it back!”

“I think NOT!! This flagrant moral transgression needs to be reported to the highest authority possible!”

Rollo made to quickly step away. The shift caused Idia to stumble and miss the manga. His arms flailed, seeking something to latch onto—and caught around Rollo’s waist.

With Idia’s weight suddenly crashing into him, Rollo stumbled forward, the book liberated from his hands. Horror etched itself onto Idia’s face. Everything seemed to move in slow motion: the book launching in an arc, skidding across the floor… and flopping open to reveal a detailed spread.

“What in the world…?!”

Upon the pages were two unfamiliar characters, fingers carefully intertwined and palms pressed against one another. One character was dressed in humble priestly robes, a demure blush to their cheeks. The other sported a face studded with scales, a proud pair of horns protruding from their head. Large, leathery wings cradled the duo under the moon and the stars, a tail coiling protectively against the priest.

They gazed longingly at their partner through long, thick lashes and sparkling eyes. A text bubble between them proclaimed a declaration with all the power to move the celestial bodies above: "I love you."

Rollo had never wanted to retch more in his entire life than at that very moment. Clutching his handkerchief to his mouth, he gagged into the fabric. Heart pounding deliriously in his chest, his knees weak.

Idia scrambled on all fours to collect his manga. With a shifty glance at Rollo, he slammed the book shut and crammed it inside of his jacket.

"You absolute degenerate," Rollo roared. It was taking every ounce of his willpower to not whack Idia on the head with his staff.

"Th-This is why I didn't want anyone to see!! I-It's about a wholesome but forbidden romance between a dragon and a priest from a religious sect that's hellbent on hunting them to extinction... N-Not everyone can appreciate a good story like this!! Only cultured men like me can see its real value...!!"

“STOP!! I’ve heard enough,” Rollo spat venomously, “I won’t hear another word of this blasphemous material, nor your enthusiasm for it!! It's clear to see that you're the sort of depraved man who finds excitement in unprotected hand holding before marriage! Not only that, but to call for the union of mortal enemies...!"

"E-Eh?! Wh-What's wrong with hand holding and enemies to lovers dynamics?!" Idia jumped onto the defensive. "You’ve got a bone to pick with my OTP or something?"

"It's utterly repulsive!!"

His words loudly resounded in the lecture hall, drawing the attention of the other students. Mob students made faces, whispered amongst themselves.

“What’s with him? He’s losing his mind over something small.”

“New guy seems pretty high-strung.”

“Ehh, Idia-senpai has been too though.”

Rollo gasped, realizing his mistake. How his temper had slipped its leash and flared into a maelstrom. Shame seeped into him.

I’ve gone and allowed an evildoer to get the best of me.

He hastily turned away from Idia.

“… I will pray for you,” Rollo said quietly yet darkly.

With that, he stormed out of the classroom. Still fuming as he retreated, Rollo pushed past the students swarming in his path. He paid no mind to their ugly, confrontational calls, too caught up in his own racing thoughts.

The skin on skin contact. The fiery passion radiating off the pages. Love, understanding, acceptance. All of it, unpleasant and offensive.

Content happily consumed by that feckless fool.

“May God have mercy on him,” Rollo muttered scornfully. Because I certainly don’t.

[strangersteddierthings]

👀 you should mix 1 & 10 together from that prompt list.

I’d say go for fluffy, but i know you. 🫣💜

For you, I will attempt some fluff, love. Even though you've picked two of the prompts most perfect for angst!

"I feel lost without you" and "I miss you every day"

It's a lil spicy below the read more 🫣🫣🫣

-

The dipping of the mattress behind him alerts Eddie that Steve has returned home. Eddie rolls over the seemingly endless expanse of mattress until he finally bumps into Steve. It's not as romantic as he was hoping it to be, because Eddie lands atop him, facing the ceiling instead of his beloved. He's got to shuffle and wiggle and twist all while Steve laughs at him and offers no help whatsoever.

"I miss you every day," Eddie whines, once he's turned the right way 'round, snuggling into Steve's chest, "all day, every day, and this is the abuse I suffer when you finally return from the war!?"

"I'll show you abuse," Steve says through a laugh and shoves Eddie over onto his back. Eddie goes without a fight because he loves it when Steve looms over him. He is, of course, immediately betrayed because Steve does not loom over him but instead folds himself in half to blow a raspberry off to the side of Eddie's belly button, where he is most ticklish!

"Betrayal! Abuse!" Eddie cries out even as Steve forces laughter from him. He tries to roll away, but Steve is too quick. Eddie makes it to his side, back facing Steve, before he's forced to stop by the grapple his boyfriend wraps him in, a bear hug around his torso that leaves his ticklish flesh vulnerable to further attacks. "No, no, stop! I yield!"

Steve's hands flatten out against his sides, pressing down to avoid further tickling in a way that is second nature now. He feels Steve shuffling around behind him, hears him sputtering as he, presumably, gets a mouthful of Eddie's hair in his attempt to snuggle up against Eddie's back, turning him into a little spoon.

Steve extracts one arm and uses it to flatten Eddie's main of hair out of the way. He then hooks his chin over Eddie's shoulder and places a quick kiss to his cheek before settling down to hold Eddie, their faces cheek to cheek. Cuddling like this wasn't Eddie's initial goal, but it's still good.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Steve whispers, "about while I'm away at war. I feel lost without you. It's the thought of you, here at home, awaiting my arrival that keeps me going on every battlefield."

Eddie grins and knows Steve can feel him doing so. What he loves more than Steve looming over him, is Steve playing with him. Committing to the bit. "And what terrible, awful villains are you battling now, my dear heart?"

"Oh, the scariest, meanest, most terrifying ones, my love."

"Mmm. Must be parent-teacher conference week," Eddie shoves his shoulder back so Steve will raise his head up, and Eddie can turn his head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss that turns deep and filthy surprisingly quickly.

Steve releases Eddie from his hold and braces himself up on one arm by Eddie's head to allow Eddie to roll onto his back. Steve shifts his weight to reach the hand that was bracing his weight down to grab Eddie's hand, tangles their fingers, before raising their joined hands back up by Eddie's head. Steve draped across him, then, a leg slotting between his own, the kiss never breaking. Eddie rolls his hips lazily against Steve's leg, each drag cause delicious friction as his cock fills.

He feels Steve rut against him and Eddie longs to touch, but Steve's got him trapped. One arm pinned under Steve's solid weight and the other being held by his head. Fuck. He's not restrained, not really, but the thought of being so is enough to make him roll his hips harder, seek more friction.

They sleep in just boxers, so Eddie can feel the heat of Steve against his cock. Can feel Steve's cock moving at a much slower pace over his hip.

Steve pulls away, untangling their held hand and shifting slightly to kiss his way down Eddie's neck and to his bare chest. Eddie's hiss turns into a moan as Steve bites lightly at his nipple before soothing the hurt with his tongue.

"Unf, s'good baby," Eddie breaths out.

"You say you miss me every day," Steve murmurs into his chest before lifting his chin to look at Eddie, "but Imma show you how much I miss you every day." And then Steve is sliding down his body, mouth never leaving his skin as he kisses and licks his way down.

His lips leave him only so Steve can shift to the side, to get his leg out of the way of removing Eddie's boxers. Steve throws them somewhere beyond the end of the bed and then swings his leg back over Eddie's to straddle his leg.

Eddie runs his now free hands through Steve's hair. Not to pull at it, or to have his hands in place to any sort of leverage, but just to pet because he knows Steve loves it when people play with his hair.

Steve starts with kissing above his hip bone, slowly planting little kisses in a trail to Eddie's cock. He places one kiss at the base before licking up the shaft on the underside, which pulls a groan from Eddie and he feels his hands grip slightly at Steve's hair but he forces himself to relax.

Fuck, Steve's mouth feels divine as he closes his mouth around the head of him. Eddie lifts his head to look down and finds Steve stare back, lips wrapped around him, and as soon as they make eye contact, Steve sucks at the same time he flicks his tongue along the slit of him.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Eddie curses, dropping his head back down to the pillow because he's going to blow his load with three more licks if they keep eye contact.

Steve slides down Eddie's cock, relaxing his throat to take all of him, until Steve's nose is pressed against him, and then Steve hums. His hips buck involuntarily but Steve's already got him in his throat, so Steve just moves with the motion.

Eddie can feel Steve humping his leg and that's just so fucking hot.

Steve pulls up, but not off, wrapping a hand around the base of Eddie's dick and bobbing his head. It's so wet, so hot, and Eddie is not going to last long. "Steve. Stevie, baby, fuck."

Steve pulls off to breath, the hand that was at his base jerking him now in the absence of Steve's mouth. He doesn't speak, just pants above Eddie's cock while he spreads saliva and precum up and down with his hand. Eddie's getting close, so close. He must babble as much out loud because Steve's says, "yeah, yeah, come for me. Wanna taste you." And then on the next downward drag of his hand, Steve chases his hand with his mouth, flattening his palm to Eddie's hip, holding him down this time as he takes him as deep as he can without deepthroating him.

"Fuck!" Eddie cries as he comes, Steve swallowing around him. It's barely a few seconds later that Steve stills his furious humping and Eddie feels it as Steve comes in his boxers like a teenager.

Slowly, Steve drags himself up Eddie to collapse next to him. "I miss you that much." He mumbles by Eddie's ear.

"Me too. I love you, so much, Stevie."

"Love you, too."

[dystopyx-blog]

IDEAS FOR TWST OCS:

I have a few

they are in their very baby stages of creation, not at all fleshed out. Really these are just ideas for ideas. all character ideas are beast men. Not on purpose, just how things turned out.

CHAR 1

Name: [name pending] AKA “Dummy the Clown!”

Twisted from: Dumbo

gender: tbd, prob male

school: prob royal sword

dorm (if applicable): First idea is for a dumbo character because,,,,,,,, clowns

just an absolute baby

floppy lil fella, melts like puddin in your hands under praise/affection

Self image issues out the WAZOO. Copes by being a clown. Because as a clown, they have more control over how people perceive them. Yes they’re a goofy little failure, but this time it’s for comedy, and not because, well… they’re a failure. They’re a performative failure, playing up every single little mistake or incident, like “whoops, silly me, oh I’m such a goober!” Internally most of those mistakes are like a fuckin dagger to the heart for them. can you imagine,,, cute lil elephant beast man,,,, with big ol floppy ears,,,,,,,,

Secretly loves being called cute, because at least “cute” is positive

Prob goes to Royal Sword.

CHAR 2

Name: tbd (thinking Georgie but that might be too on the nose)

Twisted from: Georgette from Oliver and Company

gender: tbd, but thinking genderfluid

school: tbd

dorm (if applicable): if in nrc, definitely pomefiore

Only the vaguest ideas for this one, but I neeeeeeeeed a Twst oc based off of georgette. yall don’t even fuckin understand, “Perfect Isn’t Easy” is literally my all time favorite Disney song. did you know none of the songs from that movie are on Spotify?? Fuckin criminal. There are covers, Annapantsu covered “why should I worry” and someone named Sienna? I believe? Covered Perfect Isn’t Easy but you don’t UNDERSTAND, GEORGETTE WAS VOICED BY BETTE MIDLER I NEED THE ORIGINAL ON SPOTIFY I NEED ALL THE OLIVER AND COMPANY SONGS ON SPOTIFY— Y’all it’s not even a good movie and I fucking hate Charles dickens, why tf am I so attached to this movie???

oh yeah

Georgette

so I need a twst oc based off of her. I’m imagining a fabulous little genderfluid beast man. Bitch def in pomefiore. Georgette isn’t technically a villain but hear me out hear me out

I want the fab poodle and Ruggie to kiss 😳

in the movie, Georgette ends up with the scruffy little Chihuahua

I am imagining Georgie here being a fuckin 5’12 god/dess in massive heels, towering over a scruffy lil man. maybe even Epel, fuck if I know!

CHAR/s 3

Name:

Twisted from: the fuckin vultures from jungle book

gender: male

school: nrc

dorm (if applicable): savanaclaw

You don’t understand. No, you don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly understand

why?

because I don’t fuckin understand. but the vulture song (that’s what friends are for) was like… my favorite fuckin song. I don’t know, I don’t fuckin know. BUT

just imagine

a hippie dippy lil shitty vulture boy

mans probably stoned outta his mind

he’s a big scary vulture beast man

but he’s just a fuckin goober. also fuckin smarter than you think (like real vultures)

food for thought.

FINAL CHAR IDEAS

I want to make some Peter Pan boyos

obv I need a Captain Hook and smee but rn all my thoughts are

Name:

Twisted from: Tick Tock Croc from Peter Pan

gender: male

school: either nrc or a fan school idk

dorm (if applicable):

Y’know what

I’m just gonna make my own goddamn school. see yall in the next post.

[assortedvillainvault]

Malefecent had fallen to Dr.facilier charming nature.He also finds Malefecent Attractive and suggests they go on a date to know each other little better.

Oooh this one took a bit of thinking! I don't think they'd become a full on pair, but a little fling wouldn't hurt...

Maleficent x Dr. Facilier: A Risky Venture

- It wasn't unusual for new villains to get a crush on Maleficent. Like – yes hello, water is wet, the Mouse won’t shut up, and the Mistress Of All Evil is the most attractive thing on legs, what else is new?

- It was, however, MUCH rarer for a newcomer to actually approach the elder villainess and make a move.

- To date only ten of the 127 Disney villains had ever tried, to varying degrees of success.

- Dr Facilier wasn’t one to simply sidle up and try his luck. At least not without a game plan and some research.

- Simply asking around got him some sly smirks, a huffy eye roll from Hades and the sort of glazed-over look from Jafar that spoke of things he’d really rather not hear about. Ursula cackled enough through her drink that he put her in the same ‘don’t ask’ camp as Jafar. Queen Grimhilde didn’t even deign to respond, and the Horned King simply glared and mimed breaking his neck for asking.

- The other five that had ever tried were apparently smote into craters for the audacity. He cast a look over the singed walls and decided to let those lie.

- He slid into a seat at an empty table, feeling Shadow pool around his feet under the long cloth. Idly, he let his cards flick and tumble through his fingers, deftly shuffling and reshuffling.

- The Loa were off the table. A. Because a date definitely counted as ‘something for himself’. B. Because he could hardly trust them when dealing with something so open ended as a crush. And c. Because he knew she would perceive him as lesser for depending on their help.

- He’d always had good eyes. Able to see what most others couldn’t. And while he would never claim to see through every disguise...from day one he’d been able to see the way fire and scales stretched and twisted under her skin – the way the lights in the room dimmed and flickered under her smile, how her cloak was full of raven feathers and vicious thorns. He could see the way her presence lanced through a crowd like a silent lightning strike – all ozone and anticipation under the thin blanket of night.

- When Hades had leaned over and clicked his jaw shut with a smirk, slyly asking “First time?” it’d taken all he had not to slip into the shadows – donning his signature charm like a shield.

- He blinked down at his hands, frowning at the faces of cards he’d laid down by habit. The devil, the seven of swords, the tower…

- A perfect talon clicks onto the tower. His heart thuds into his mouth as he looks up (and up and UP, hell she’s tall-) at the amused, elegant smile of one Mistress of All Evil.

- Hahaha shit.

- At a loss, he flings himself into his tried and tested talent: talking.

- “Evening, ma’am.” He tips his hat and tried desperately not to overthink the amused upturn of her lips, finding it to be much the same expression as a cat playing with mice. “To what do I owe the pleasure, stopping by little ol’ me?” Should he try and kiss her hand?? It was right there, he should probably look into how to regrow fingers just in case- “Is there...” he swallows. “Anything I can, help you with?”

- She chuckles, and he feels it run though his bones as if he were stood right next to a brass band’s drummers. Shadow has a vice grip on his ankles under the table and he tries so hard not to remember being dragged to his grave, tries not to kick his one remaining friend as Maleficent’s yellow eyes bore into his violet ones and he swears he might know how Hook feels – sized up by a reptile willing and eager to swallow him whole-

- “Plenty, little doctor.” She smiles, slow and sharp. He swallows thickly, fighting not to grin. “if you feel...up to the challenge?”

- He feels his lips drag up into an ill advised grin. “Yes ma’am~”

[elfqueen006]

I'm not that far into Season 2 of A Villain's Twisted Heart, I'm basically at the beginning. But I had a random thought. If the Unraveler made himself Peter Pan, would that mean a hypothetical Wendy and Tinkerbell was Hook's love interest beforehand?

Personally, I've always thought Hook and Tinkerbell have had a little something even in past iterations (lowkey give enemies to rivals to lovers) so it'd be fitting if Tinkerbell were Hook's fairy friend in the "original story".

Could possibly open a window to a jealous Tink x Hook x Reader/MC. Or a Tink!Reader I guess. I dunno it just sounds fun.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 1 MATCH 9

Hook propaganda:

“I can go on a rant about this guy that'll make me look like Charlie in that one red string board meme image but I'll try to keep it brief- I wasn't sure about this guy at first but by the end of the novel he won me over completely. Mf has a lot of depth to him that a lot of other Genius INC characters don't have. He's a pirate that has a big heart for his crew and eventually for the protag as well. While he's smug and cocky and confident he has body image issues due to his disability bc his past girlfriend left him over it, but you can help him see that his disability isn't a bad or ugly thing and that he isn't less of a person because of it. He likes mind games and teasing but damn if this guy doesn't fall hard for the protag as soon as they show they genuinely care about him. He tries to play it off like they're foolish for caring about him or anyone but he always tries to jumps to protags aid when something bad happens to protect them. He also tries to coax protag out of their shell a little and get them to loosen up and have fun in life and gets happy when they fo wanna tag along with his ideas. His ending is super sweet too, he chooses to stay with the protag in their world instead of going back to his oen and becomes a photographer after learning about more about the protag's world.”

Teo propaganda:

No Teo propaganda :(

[twistedtummies2]

I have an idea for a Villain’s Twisted Heart if you’re interested in it. The plot can be about Grim and Hook having an eating contest. How do you think it will go down? Who will win? How far do you think they’ll go before they become stuffed piggies?

I think it's fair to say Grimm would win that contest. I mean...Hook is a big eater in the game, sure, but Grimm is a canonically even BIGGER one. He's ALWAYS hungry, and...well...he's the freaking BIG BAD WOLF. If the guy can swallow pigs and goats whole (we know Granny and Red were a frame up, but I get the feeling those stories aren't), I think it's fair to say he'll win. And it'll proooobably take a lot to get him totally stuffed. Hook will still be nursing a swollen gut while Grimm is chowing down. :P

[epiclamer]

Hello! Can I request some good old comforting at home after villain stabs hero at work? (Hero and villain are in a relationship) Y’know the usual. Your funny banter’s got me hooked too so some of that wouldn’t be too bad.

No pressure if you don’t want to :)

🤎

coming right up—

Unconscious Accident

The hero had made it home before their lover, fleeing the fight with the hefty dagger still impaling their side. They had seen the look of raw horror on Villains face when they had realized what they had done, but in order to salvage their secrecy Hero had run before the other could say anything.

The last thing they needed was to have their relationship exposed too.

Besides, a couple stitches wasn’t something new to the crime-stopper.

Villain burst through the door, hands on their knees as they panted in heavy breaths. Hero assumed they had run from the other side of town to get here and at the thought they couldn’t help but giggle.

The criminal was truly a softy at heart.

“C-Couldn’t keep up t-the ‘unfazed’ act, huh?” When their eyes landed on the pale hero they rushed forwards, scooping them into their shaky arms. They didn’t say anything, not even a snort or a worried comment, simply picking them up and carrying them to the bathroom.

Odd.

Hero prodded again, they couldn’t help themselves. “I’m s-surprised you even l-lasted this long—” their mouth twisted in pain as they were set down in the tub and a hiss escaped their lips. “I-I bet even t-the heroes were c-confused—”

“Please.”

The hero stopped, turning to face their villain, but the other’s forehead was propped against the edge of the tub, keeping their head bowed.

“Please stop, Hero.”

Now, Hero recognized what was wrong. Villain was crying. Sobbing, to be more precise. Chest heaving with misery and hands trembling with fear.

Villain had never been so broken and Hero had never seen them this way. Sure, in their relationship the hero had seen the villain sad and upset and angry and all of that, but never to this extent of distraught.

At first, Hero was frozen. They didn’t know how to help. They wanted to, but they didn’t know how. Their side was still aching and their blood was still dripping and staining their white tub, but for some reason this seemed more important.

“Villain, sweetie, w-what’s going on?” As gently as they could Hero let their hand fall against the villain’s shoulder, softly massaging the tense muscles.

The criminal made a noise, something between a cry and muffled plea. “I stabbed you, that’s what’s going on.”

Hero opened their mouth with something comforting, but they were cut off.

“I hurt you, Hero.”

The words hung in the air for a silent moment. A silent moment that felt nothing other than ear-shatteringly loud. Because it was the truth. Villain had stabbed Hero; Villain had hurt Hero, but not like how the villain saw it.

“I’m a monster.” Nothing but a whisper from Villains tongue, yet Hero heard it and they tensed.

This was wrong.

Villain was not a monster. They never deserved to think that. They committed petty theft and a battle mishap, but nothing worth being titled monster.

“No.” Hero’s voice was so stern it put their lover on edge. “You are not a monster. You did not hurt me—”

“I stabbed—”

The crime-stopper took a deep breath, sliding their free hand under the other’s chin, lifting their gazes to meet. “You did not hurt me, Villain.” That seemed to shut them up quickly.

“This was an accident. I know you would never do this on purpose, sweetheart. You’re mine, got that? Don’t talk down to yourself.”

Even then, the villain looked unsure. Eyes still glossy and red, lip trembling and teeth chattering. They were a wreck, a beautiful wreck through and through. “I still hurt you.”

Hero couldn’t stand the pain any longer, pulling the villain in for a chaste kiss. “By accident, my love. Do you know what accidents make us?”

Villain shook their head, looking slightly better.

The hero smiled, “Human.”

[dgalerab]

Oboro sits by Shouta's hospital bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Of course he knows that every time they go out on patrol, there's a chance...

...

Of course he knows that. He tries to be an optimist, but in their line of work optimism needs to be colored with realism.

He just wasn't expecting to be hit with that possibility during a random class with the first years.

He'd always thought Shouta would make a good teacher, but if he's honest with himself, the UA position had been a relief in more ways than one. Less time on patrol. Less time in the thick of things.

Less time that Shouta manages to be as shitty at taking care of himself as he is competent at hero work - something they've had many a screaming argument about. (The fact that they scream at each other whenever they argue doesn't really fill the space Hizashi left behind, but Oboro still gets a sense of satisfaction every time he gets Shouta to raise his voice.)

"You really had to take on all those villains, didn't you, Shouta?" Oboro sighs to his friend's bandaged face. He can barely see one eye peeking out from between the layers of gauze, squeezed shut in a nightmare.

It doesn't surprise Oboro. Shouta's new class is loud, frantic, powerful. Of course he'd do anything to protect them. So would Oboro.

He just wishes that maybe sometimes Shouta could put himself a little bit higher up the priority list. It's not like Oboro hasn't told him a million times that he doesn't want to lose two best friends.

He shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking of what happened to Hizashi right now. It can't be good luck to do so when Shouta is still hooked up to all these machines, both arms broken and skull fractured.

(And yet it's so hard not to.)

As if he hears Oboro's thoughts, Shouta croaks a weak, "Yamada..." beside him.

"You're not dead yet, Eraser," he reassures, leaning back to massage his neck.

He hears the heartbeat monitor speed up, and Shouta's cast thump against his arm, and when he looks down his heart skips a beat.

Shouta's good eye is wide open in horror as he struggles against his injuries and bandages to try to grab at Oboro. "He was there," he gasps. "Oboro, he was there."

"Hey, hey, calm down," Oboro says, nudging him back down before he hurts himself. "That's... That's quite the near death experience, but you're okay, you're..."

"No!" Shouta grits out. "He was there. He was at USJ."

A chill runs through Oboro. The students had mentioned some sort of sonic blast when they'd explained what had happened, but...

He shakes himself. He's not the one concussed and on pain killers here. He takes a deep breath and puts on his rescue voice.

"One of the villains had a voice quirk," he says. "It wasn't him, Shouta. You took some hits to the head so I know it all seems confusing, but..."

"I saw him!" Shouta cries, voice low and insistent. "I saw him, it was his face, his... his... It was something else but it was him."

Oboro wants to protest. Wants to insist that it's some sort of twisted near death experience, but...

He pulls out his phone and calls their contacts at the police department.

---

"You were right," Tsukauchi confirms. "There's no human DNA in the ashes you gave me."

It had been a harrowing ordeal to get them. Reassuring the Yamadas that it was probably nothing, just a strange fluke in an old case. It had already felt awful to lie to them, but now it feels worse.

This isn't nothing.

"We saw the body," Oboro says. "Over a dozen people watched him die, there's no way that..."

Tsukauchi shakes his head. "He did die. UA oversaw all that, and I know the people involved. It seems somewhere between the autopsy and the cremation, however, the body... went missing."

Oboro looks to Shouta, who's staring out the window in silence, still vaguely mummified.

"Say something," Oboro pleads.

"He had scars on his face. Bandages over his limbs, too, and claws. It was like someone replaced his arms and legs with... something else," Shouta murmurs.

"Sewed pieces of his corpse together with... what? Other corpses?"

Shouta shrugs.

Normally this is when one or the other of them would start yelling. Oboro craves that cathartsis, but...

Right now, it feels impossible.

"Is it still him?" Oboro asks.

"I think that question is above my pay grade," Tsukauchi says, not unkindly. "But we're looking into this with as much effort as we can. We'll do whatever it takes to get you answers."

With thar, he leaves them to themselves.

"The sports festival starts tomorrow," Shouta says, and Oboro thanks every god who might be listening that he doesn't have to start the conversation.

"I guess so," They've commentated every year since they started teaching, in honor of Hizashi who had begged and pleaded his way into commentating even as a first year, and then again as a second year when the first year was a mess. "I suppose that comes first, then..."

It's quiet. They usually work rather hard not to let it get this quiet unless they're on patrol and stealth is of the essence. Oboro wracks his brain for what to say.

Their eyes meet, and it becomes clear. "We're going to find him, right?" Oboro asks.

"Obviously," Shouta says.

---

They spend the next few days obsessively going over everything they know (which admittedly isn't much). They've planned for everything - how to catch him, how to test his memory, how to handle the cops if he responds, how to handle him if he doesn't.

They spend almost every waking moment pelting each other with what ifs and emergency plans.

It somewhat helps to quiet the horror as Shouta slowly heals and gets his bandages off.

They're going to figure this out. If they got through Hizashi being dead, they can get through him being... whatever he is now.

... is what he thinks until they come back from patrol one night, crashing into their respective bedrooms, only for Oboro to wake in the middle of the night to Shouta shouting for him frantically.

He grabs his quarterstaff from beside the bed and runs to Shouta's bedroom.

Ah, he thinks, as he looks up at the creature all but racing across his best friend's ceiling, tail lashing and eyes glinting green in the dark, giggling and swiping at Shouta like a small child trying to pull a cat's tail, entirely unafraid of the knife Shouta brandishes at him. Perhaps we've forgotten how much spontaneity Hizashi brought to our trio.