#because of your desperation of needing to be the hero?

[immortalmolloy]

Daniel was shocked and he froze for a moment. He could feel the way the boat rocked gently and hear the soft sound of waves lapping at the ship’s hull outside. The room was lit very dimly by a single lamp in the corner.

It was surprising to hear Mina say that he was a light in her life. Daniel had always seen himself as more of a black hole. Hearing Mina say how much he meant to her and how special she thought he was, it meant so much to Daniel. It made him want to be everything she needed. And it made him think maybe he didn’t always need to run to Armand when he was desperate to hear kind words and praises. Mina would assure him. He wanted to do the same for her.

He was usually good with words but this was a complicated subject that hurt him too. Daniel felt shame for things he had done too. He had been so sure back then that he knew who the monsters were. Now he doubted that. Violent memories haunted him in his sleep more often than he’d like to admit.

He was so grateful for Mina. He didn’t know how she was exactly before they had met, only knew what she had said and what he saw in her mind. He understood choices she had made. He couldn’t understand completely but he didn’t blame her for things she had done. She made hard choices. She was strong and brave. She survived and endured.

Daniel had changed a lot too since he met her. He owed her everything. She saved him again and again. He could never repay her for how she rescued him from the grave he was determined to crawl in. She had given him purpose and shown him true love that he had been searching for. She helped him to grow into the person he was meant to be.

“I can’t pretend to know it all,” Daniel said finally. “I do understand how it is to feel like the worst kind of monster, to have your past choices weighing on you suffocating you slowly, to be haunted by painful memories in your sleep. I see their faces. The monsters. The ones we hunted. Some of them deserved it-at least, I think they did. But others... I used to believe I was the hero in the story. I thought I knew who the monsters were. And now, I don't know anything. I’m always going to Lestat for reassurance. Lestat tells me all of the terrible things he’s done and that’s the only way I stop hating myself.”

Daniel sighed. “We can’t forget these things we’ve done. You don’t have to carry it alone, though. We have each other always and forever. I may not have known you so long ago but I do know you now. I know your heart and mind and soul. We were meant to find each other. You are my soulmate for all eternity. You're one of the bravest, strongest people l've ever known. You made hard choices because you thought it was the right thing to do and maybe you didn't always get it right. Maybe neither of us did. But you still deserve the world, Mina. You are amazing and you deserve love and to heal from this stuff. I’m here for you. I’ll help you.”

He kissed her forehead and held her close. "I don't know where I'd be without you. I don't even know who I'd be. You gave me purpose, Mina. A reason to fight, even when I wanted to give up. You’ve shown me love. I could never thank you enough for how you rescued me and saved me. If I’m a light in your life then you’re the whole damn sun in mine.”

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hi! idk if you take requests currently. I'm new around here, but I've read. Everything in your whole masterlist. And I love your writing so much. Um. So!

I really love. Flirty villain with the power to mess with people's emotions to like, calm them or seduce them or whatever he really wants X hero who should hate it but secretly is really into it because it's a release of control for him and he's exhausted

“You’re back,” the villain stated. The hero was…an interesting person. Although they had avoided the villain in the beginning, now they were crawling back to them — nearly desperate.

A desperate hero was generally easy to control, the villain was fully aware of that. They didn’t even need their powers to do so. So, the advantage, the position of power the villain found themselves in was anything but unappetising.

However, there was something in their stomach, something that twisted whenever the hero was standing in front of them.

“…I’m sorry to bother you again…I, I don’t know, maybe I can pay you next time?”

“Next time?” The hero started blushing and unfortunately, the villain was very amused by it.

“Oh, sorry, I—”

“Come in and sit down.” The hero stared at them with those horrible puppy eyes, jaw slightly dropping.

Sometimes, the villain’s heart would start beating fast enough to worry them. Mostly, when they looked at the hero for too long. That wasn’t only distracting, it was also incredibly annoying.

“Thank you,” the hero said and they smiled that sweet smile that was usually reserved for scared civilians as reassurance.

Was the villain even worthy of such a smile?

The hero sat down on the villain’s couch and folded their hands in their lap.

“Anxiety?” the villain asked.

“…yeah, it got really bad again.”

“Work?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

The villain stared at their nemesis. Lamentably, they could see how well-built their nemesis was. Them being attractive was becoming an actual problem since the villain was slowly getting the feeling they were the one being seduced.

They took in a deep breath. Their powers demanded physical contact.

Which made it quite intimate.

The villain didn’t know how to feel about that.

“What do you do outside of work?” They walked behind the couch. Last time, they had held hands.

The villain swallowed.

This time, they touched the hero’s neck. They were gentle, but the hero took in a sharp breath.

As usual.

“Voluntary work, mostly.”

“God, you’re disgusting.” As response, the hero laughed quietly. Apparently, they were already relaxing.

“I also work out.”

“Yeah, I figured.” The villain let their hand wander under the hero’s shirt, gliding over their collarbone. “Do those things calm you? Or are you thinking about work the entire time?”

“…it…” The hero took in a deep breath and the villain leaned over, their lips close to the hero’s ear.

“Easy, take your time…” The hero let their head fall back. They let out a somewhat satisfied sigh that sounded a lot like the villain’s name.

The villain’s eyes widened.

“Don’t be inappropriate now,” the villain mumbled. The hero smirked.

“Sorry…nothing calms me like you.”

“You’re being a little careless, don’t you think? Maybe I should keep you to myself, you’re certainly pretty to look at,” the villain said, pushing their voice deliberately deeper. They let their fingers go up: following the hero’s throat up to their chin.

“Gosh, you can be so mean.” Suddenly, the hero grabbed the villain’s wrist and started guiding the villain’s hand.

Too stunned to speak, too surprised to do anything, the villain simply let them do whatever they wanted, only for the hero to stop on their chest. Right under their palm was the hero’s heart, the villain realised.

“I loathed you so much when you did this the first time,” the hero admitted. “I don’t know if you remember, but we were fighting. You were teasing me a lot. You even slapped my ass, I think.”

The hero rolled their eyes, smirking.

“Well, you deserved it,” the villain said. They could feel the hero’s heart beating under their skin.

“Hmm. You remember.”

“Of course.”

“I hated how safe I felt.”

“You’re not really safe with me,” the villain reminded them. They could betray them anytime. Capture them, keep them here, kill them…

“You’ve never taken advantage of me when I’m like this,” the hero said.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means something to me,” the hero said. Even though their eyes were sleepy, they looked quite serious. “I love it when you’re soft.”

They raised their hand and touched the villain’s cheek.

The villain’s innards were melting. It was painful. So damningly painful.

“I’m exhausted,” the hero whispered. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

The villain couldn’t really breathe. They swallowed. What on earth was this hero doing to them?

“…yeah.”

It was one word, but their voice cracked several times.

[gilverrwrites]

🍷 🎉 🎇 for Tim? You write him so well 😭 also I really love ur account omg I just found u and I’m OBSESSED. All of your posts are amazing! Ty if u decide to do this !

Welcome to whatever the hell this is, happy to have you on board.

🍷 tipsy sex headcanon

Tim gets clingy when he’s been drinking. He’s hanging off your every word, and your body, weakly grabbing at your waist and nuzzling into your neck, where he’ll keep kissing and sucking and murmuring against your skin; “You’re so hot.” “You smell so good.” “Fuck I want you so bad, please.” Grinding his hips against you to prove he really means it, he needs it. No subtlety, just straight-up desperation, and it doesn’t end until you agree to go home with him.

🎉 celebration sex headcanon

Tim has a praise kink the size of a planet, but he forgets about it, legitimately. So when he gets home from saving the day from whatever supervillain of the week has been terrorising Gotham to find you all dolled up in front of the TV, watching the news, he doesn’t think much of it. His eyes bulge at your tiny little outfit, but usually, he just falls beside you on the couch, still half-kitted, and asks how your day was.

But when you start crawling on top of him, grinning from ear to ear as you wrap your fingers up in his cape and start applauding your hero for another job well done, well, then it clicks.

“Hero, huh?” his cheeks start turning pink as he eyes you luridly. “I suppose I do deserve a reward.”

🎇 orgasm headcanon

Tim is so fucking noisy when he cums. Its nothing legible, he’s rarely trying to speak real words because he knows he’ll only choke on them. You know the moment is coming because he starts panting like crazy, heated, teeth-gritted pants that make his chest shake, followed by a series of airy, strangled moans that stop and start abruptly until finally he least out a weak little whimper as the moment comes to an end.

Smut emoji prompt requests are now closed.

[kaybug88]

ʚ♡ɞ・"WHAT'S UP DANGER?" T. T.・ʚ♡ɞ

TEASER TRAILER -

“Hey Eijiro, do you ever feel like it isn’t enough?”

“Hmm? What doesn’t feel like enough?”

“Adrenaline, sometimes you just don’t feel enough adrenaline.”

“Your love for adrenaline scares me sometimes, you’re kinda crazy, (Y/N).”

“I can guarantee you that you’re not the first person to tell me that.”

The red head laughs at your comment before focusing back on the math assignment in front of him. Maybe you are crazy for loving adrenaline, but who do those people think they are to judge you?

“Ha! Oh my lord, that was amazing!”

“Amazing? You could’ve died out there! Are you insane?!”

“Isn’t that the point? You’re telling me that you don’t love danger?”

“No! Danger is dangerous, believe it or not!”

“No shit, Sherlock Holmes, that’s the point.”

“What- Why?!”

Izuku asks with wide eyes and a worried face as you slip off your mask. You can only laugh at his expression as you swipe away sweat on your forehead. Maybe you are insane, but if so, it’s pretty enjoyable.

-

“I want to be like you one day, living life to the fullest, ya’ know?”

“Think you can handle the adrenaline you’ll feel?”

“Do you know me? Of course I can, that’s why I chose your agency.”

“Heh, you’re one wild kid, but you’re one hell of a fighter.”

“Coming from you? Well that’s quite the compliment.”

“We’re a lot more alike than I think we realize. You push things to the edge too, right?”

“Of course I do, It’s the only way to properly live.

Mirko nods at your comment while giving you a proud smile and fist bump, her eyes shine with that fearless look you’ve grown to admire. Living life to the proper edge is the only way you can really live life at this point. However, sometimes the edge isn’t enough.

-

“I came here because I was promised that I’d feel adrenaline.”

“Slow your roll, kid, aren’t you supposed to be a hero-in-training?”

“So what? UA isn’t fulfilling what I need anymore.”

“And you’re not mad about the camp?”

“Of course I am, but this… I need adrenaline more than I care about that.”

“Just remember if being a hero gets boring, we could use you.”

“Yeah yeah, now what’re you gonna assign to me?”

You ask the villain in front of you. UA hasn’t been giving you the rush you need, and you’ve gotten desperate for a rush. Hell, even Adrenaline Rush hasn’t been hitting like it used to; even training with Mirko isn’t the same. 

-

So now, you’ve gotta’ ask a question; what’s a girl to do when she needs adrenaline?

.

.

.

She takes a leap of faith.

[mayapapaya33]

Well, I haven't read the origins comic yet, so I'll take your word for that. Some of the comic stuff is a bit wibbly on canon so I'm not sure if I do take it as campaign canon really, but I'll just go with it for the purposes of this conversation. (The fact that she never once mentions being run out of town by Yeza in the campaign makes that a little weird but sure ok. It also feels a little retconny to brush over her major fear that her family would reject her even if they DID know it was her under the curse, which was what was implied to be a big reason she stayed away in the campaign, in favor of it being because they DID chase her away based purely on what she looked like before she could say anything. It feels...strange. I'm not sure how I feel about it, I'll have to think about it. It just feels like after the fact justification of her staying away from them to me, but oh well. LET WOMEN BE FLAWED 2025! lol I am eventually going to get my hands on all of the origins comics, I just haven't done so yet.)

My point wasn't really a moral argument about Veth and Lilliana having done equally bad things in the world, obviously that's not true. I could have said It better, but I guess I just thought that was obvious and I was tired? lol, silly me. So to make it clearer: Veth is a hero who helped save the world, and Liliana fell in with a cult and did terrible things under the woefully misguided belief she was doing the right thing. I'm more saying I could see Veth turning out like Liliana if things went differently and their initial act of abandonment is fundamentally similar. Also, it's not just the hag thing btw, that was just the most obvious and memorable example I could reference and know everyone would know what I was talking about without writing a 5 page essay and hunting down obscure time stamps lol.

Another example was her stance in that discussion about justice and vengeance from ep 98 (26:26) with Caduceus. Cad basically said: Hey, going after criminals in the Empire sounds great if you can be smart about it, but if you're just doing it to make yourself feel better, I don't really see the point of that, so maybe don't because you'll probably restart the war if you aren't extremely careful. And Veth's response was very understandable from her characters pov, but makes me think that, yeah, in the right circumstances, she'll do what she wants, when she wants, and damn the consequences and it won't be about justice, it'll be about making herself feel good and she'll find the internal justification she needs to. "You can stand by -You can just watch bad people get away with it?" If the price of stopping one bad person is reigniting a WAR, um yeah, I can Veth. He's basically saying, don't cause more problems than you are going to fix by your actions, and interrogate your motivations and she wasn't having it. I think he might have gotten through to her in the end but I'm not sure because they "dissolved" using mouth sounds and hand waving into the next scene of Jester finding Marion.

There are many things that make me think this about her. Anger and desperation can cause people to make poor decisions. (I think you might have misconstrued the one bit where I was debating whether letting your family think you were dead and staying gone or just saying goodbye and abandoning them was actually worse or not, I personally vote dead being worse but I'm genuinely not sure, like I said. So, in that one aspect I think Veth's worse, but not for everything lol. The misguided hope left behind from what Liliana did might be worse.)

My point was that they both abandoned their families in order to solve a problem. Yes, Liliana left "voluntarily" right from the start in the sense that she wasn't kidnapped by goblins and transformed against her will, her "against her will change" was foisted upon her by a God Eater trapped in moon jail instead. She was essentially kidnapped by her own powers, she couldn't control them and needed to figure out what they were and how to deal with them. So yes, it was a choice for her to leave as you so aptly pointed out, just not quite as voluntary a choice as people keep presenting it as. I suppose it's more accurate for me to say it was Liliana's choice to leave, and Veth's choice to STAY gone (yes, even with the addition of the comic lore).

Don't you remember early campaign Imogen constantly having to be careful and worried about her telepathy? How it hurt her to be in large crowds? How her town DID treat her like garbage, like a pariah, "like an outright monster" even. It's not like Liliana left for fun. She was scared she was going to hurt someone if she didn't learn how to control herself, and worried that Imogen would develop those powers too. (That was her initial reasoning, and then things devolved of course). You said it yourself; The Grim Verity was taking too long, and she wanted to go home so she fell in with Ludinus and co because he promised answers and a solution.

Veth's initial separation from her family OBVIOUSLY wasn't her fault, and apparently in the comics she tried to go home and was run off for looking like a goblin. Well, that truly sucks for Comic Book Veth and she has my sympathy. There are still a variety of things she could have done, including once she befriended Caleb enough where she trusted him, have him go to Yeza in person and explain the curse and everything while she hid at the outskirts of town. She could have told Caleb a bunch of things only Veth would know to help convince Yeza, Etc.

At a certain point, Veth's Choice to stay away from her family was just as voluntary as Liliana's. She could have tried (or tried again if comics are canon) at any time, and she didn't. The problem wasn't solved so they "couldn't" go home and then events spiraled. Again, they aren't the same, I just think their situations parallel each other interestingly. Becoming "not a goblin" was not the only way for Veth to reunite with her family. It's perfectly understandable that she thought that it was considering all of her trauma and her shame and her fear, but that doesn't make it true. It was still an active choice that she made to not try to reunite with her family until she looked "normal" again, even once her circumstances had changed and she could have had help. She didn't try because she didn't want her family seeing her like that and because she was scared of what they would think. (Again, very understandable, but still a choice). What if Caleb couldn't find a way to change her back into a halfling? Would she never have gone home, continuing to look for a solution?

Liliana "couldn't" go home until she understood and could control her powers, a reasonable yet tragic decision, which then spiraled into it being that she "couldn't" go home until she helped "save" the world from the tyranny of the Gods, etc. Somewhat less reasonable I think you'll agree. How long does Veth's decision to not try (or not try again) to reunite with her family until she's no longer a goblin remain reasonable? One year? Five years? Ten years? It was a combination of luck and hard work that got her a new body as relatively fast as she did. Caleb and Essek meeting and becoming magic bffs might never have happened without Caleb's "I'm never going back to jail" moment in the Bright Queen's throne room for example lol.

More than all of that though, I'm not a huge fan of Veth's parenting while she IS present in Luc's life but seeing as Liliana hasn't really been present in Imogen's life for more than like a month, that's about where any parallels or comparisons stop lmfao. A lot of Veth's bad parenting once she's back in Luc's life is also due to the fact that Sam Riegel is a comedian first and an actor second so if he sees an opportunity to be funny, he'll pounce. Which unfortunately for poor Veth, does mean that if you look at her with a sober eye she comes across as a dreadful parent. Hilarious of course, but I did end up feeling bad for Yeza whenever I saw him futilely trying to be responsible whenever the M9 came trampling through their lives being bad influences. Honestly, she wonders why teenage Luc is like that! I learned it from watching you mom!

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

A sequel to this. Recap: Sidekick ran away from Hero and went to a grumpy Detective.

*

Detective had given rides to a lot of weird people during the years.

Nervous clients, glancing by the windows to make sure they weren’t followed. Sinister minions dressed in black, pointing a gun at him from the backseat. Smug rich people condescendingly explaining the world to him and getting out wrinkling their noses. A sulking Supervillain who was great with gadgets but terrible against a good punch. A Hero reacting like a six-year-old because they never rode in a car before, courtesy of having super speed and good public transport in their previous town, both wonders unheard of here.

Somehow, none of them had made him as nervous as the huddled teen in the backseat. It was a whole kid! How was he supposed to take care of that? Patting their head and saying “there there, I’m sure Hero only barely wanted to use you until your death” ? Talking about video games? Kids still liked video games, right? Pity he’d never played them. No, this wasn’t good. He had to focus.

“Do you have some kind of power?”

The teen shrugged:

“I fly.”

“Do you like it?”

“I liked it before.”

“Where are your parents?”

“They live in another town. I told them I was going for a summer job. It was true. I thought it was true.”

“Hero told you that?”

“Yeah. They told me it would be only for a couple of months. And then, last week-”

“Last week?”

“They congratulated me and told me I got the job for good. Told them I didn’t want it, and-”

They waved:

“Well, here I am.”

“Here you are. Do your parents know?”

“No. They don’t even know the kind of job I had. I didn’t want to worry them. And I don’t want Hero going after them. They don’t have powers.”

Detective sighed, tapping on the wheel.

“Okay.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a friend. Healer.”

The teen relaxed:

“I think I know them.”

Detective nodded. A lot of people knew about Healer. When things looked bad, people went to Detective. When things looked bad for him, he went to Healer.

They were a weird one. Although they had the power that went with their job, and they had the gaudy clothes – in their case, a long white gown that matched their long silver hair – they weren’t a registered hero, but a regular doctor. The Hero association had approved at the condition that they only healed people with powers. Healer had agreed with a smile and kept healing whoever they wanted when the others were not looking. They were the very reason why Detective was alive in this crazy town. In fact, they were close to being friends. Healer wasn’t only competent -they needed to be – but they were nice. He needed the reminder that people sometimes were.

The door was wide open. Too many doors were today.

“Stay here.”

Detective got out of the car and stayed frozen on the doorway, looking at the body on the floor. Healer was wearing the same gaudy robe as usual, but it had been torn, enough to reveal a huge wound to their side. He didn’t have to force himself to fall on the floor, applying pressure until the blood stopped. With a shaking hand, he checked their pulse. They sighed. Something moved behind them and let out a strangled noise. He didn’t turn around. He should have known that Sidekick would have come inside anyway.

“What happened?”

Detective took off his jacket and folded it under Healer’s head, the only thing left to do for them.

“A very good question.”

Sidekick watched him rummage through the room with a kind of desperation, his hands clasping on anatomy books, notebooks, and the knob of a drawer that he opened feverishly to get one lollipop out of it. Sidekick tilted their head while he tore off the wrapping with teeth before putting the candy in his mouth like his life depended on it, but made no comment. During the last months, they’d learned not to ask questions and stay close to the nearest exit when an adult was getting worked up. They looked at the window, just in case.

“Detective…”

No answer. Just an adult flipping through the page of an agenda, mumbling to himself, then stopping suddenly.

“Supervillain? They made an appointment with Supervillain? What the hell?”

“Well, you have to give it to them,” said Sidekick with a voice that only slightly shivered, “they’re punctual.”

The adult and the teen looked at each other, looked for any kind of miracle exit, and found the same depressing number.

“Tell me everything you know,” whispered Detective between his teeth.

“Um...wears purple...has a torture room somewhere…”

“Not helping.”

“Super-strengh? Doesn’t understand the word “no”?”

There was no time to answer. The door opened. A cold wind that had nothing to do with the current weather settled in the room. A pair of eyes who rarely blinked glanced at the room, stopped for a whole minute on Healer, then went back on the only adult inside with the lollipop in his mouth. A hand grabbed his throat, propping him off the ground.

“Your death will be as slow and excruciating as possible.”

It’s not easy to talk when you have the double handicap of a candy between your teeth and being strangled to death. Detective, however, made a good attempt:

“Fdoza uill ever o oof.”

“If you do that, you will never know the truth,” translated Sidekick, who was good with languages.

“The truth?” repeated Supervillain. “It seems clear to me, child.”

“But we just got here,” mumbled the teen. “We don’t know what happened either.”

“Then what are you talking about?” snarled Supervillain to their prey.

Detective turned blue in answer. With a groan of disgust, Supervillain released him, letting him gracelessly collapse on the floor. After five minutes of coughing, spitting, and retching next to a sad lollipop, Detective could enunciate:

“Five minutes, only five... and we could have caught them.”

“Who, “them”?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exclude a lot of people. Sometimes I think I’m the only not non-binary person in town. Well anyway,” he added quickly as Supervillain was turning another color themself, “it’s easy to understand. You’ve just proved that you liked Healer.”

“Everyone liked them.”

“So the killer obviously did it to spite you. Who could that be, if not Hero?”

“Hero wouldn’t-” began Supervillain.

“You sure?”

There was a moment of silence. Of deep, thoughtful silence. Supervillain’s eyes fell on Sidekick. In a quick move, Detective stood up and went through the room to throw an arm around the teen’s shoulders:

“Look at them, the poor kid. They ran away, crying in my office, telling that Hero was planning something terrible but they didn’t know what, we both risked our lives to come here, and this is what we found. The murderer is getting away right now, while we’re talking.”

Sidekick burst into tears. They didn’t have to force themself very much. That was the last step to convince Supervillain.

“This night, their head will be mine,” they said before leaving the room.

Sidekick kept crying, huddled against Detective.

“S-sorry,” they mumbled, sniffing.

Detective awkwardly patted their back, shaking his head in disgust:

“That’s one gullible shithead. I swear, the more they’re powerful, the more they’re complete idiots.”

Gently, he pulled away from the embrace, sitting once again in front of Healer.

“Do you think Hero will win?” whispered Sidekick.

“Don’t know, don’t care. These bozos deserve each other.”

“Should I call an ambulance for Healer?”

Detective held two cold hands in his own, gently massaging them with his thumbs.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know who did that to them?”

“A bloody idiot,” snarled Detective. “Literally. You can open your eyes now, it’s safe.”

Sidekick repressed a move when Healer blinked and frowned.

“Sorry”, they whispered, their voice nearly inaudible. “I really didn’t want to deal with them.”

“Oh, and the only way was playing dead?”

As they were arguing, Sidekick noticed that blood wasn't coming out from the wound anymore. In fact, it had turned into a scratch. That was surprising how a stressful situation could prevent you from realizing that a Healer was, indeed, a healer. Detective shook his head and helped them to sit up.

“That was on the spur,” whispered Healer. “They wouldn’t leave me alone, so…”

“Since when?”

Healer shrugged. Detective groaned:

“You have my number. Why didn’t you tell me? That’s my job to...”

“You’re busy enough.”

Detective squeezed their shoulders, twisting his mouth and grunting:

“You think I’d rather see you dead? Do you see me bleeding to death before calling you ?”

“Many times.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a role model, am I ?”

Healer shrugged lightly, as if to give him this one, then gave the room a side-look:

“Who’s your friend?”

“That’s a long story. I suggest that everybody gets in a car first. And fast.”

*

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[magical-girl-coral]

Okay, what is the Internet's brilliant idea of how to stop the I/p conflict

*checks notes*

You people are planning on boycotting an entire fucking country?

[ehlnofay]

Pax should have said no.

Damn it all, they should have said no. Should have said go to hell and fucked off back – stop contacting me, sort out your own shit – but they didn’t, fuck knows why, and now they’re stuck here.

(They know why. They know exactly why; absolutely anything would be better than fucking off back to Cyrodiil. What’s for them there?)

But there’s nothing worth staying for here either, and now she’s crammed in between strangers on a long table, everyone dressed in fabrics she’s never seen with dyes so saturated they seem almost gory, eating stuff that isn’t food and talking loud enough to make her want to hurl a glass into the wall. It’s bizarre. The woman next to her, ruddy-faced and bald, wears a headpiece that shines like the sun the Isles doesn’t have; the other side is taken up by a stranger in a bone-white porcelain mask who has not moved but to swill the wine around in their glass. There’s scarcely room for Pax’s chair. It all feels like such a baffling pantomime of aristocracy (she's known the real thing well enough – feasts and toasts and luxurious gifts she had no use for, and if she doesn’t stop thinking about it she actually will throw a glass), bright colours and rich settings and a god taking offerings at the head of the table.

At least, Pax thinks, no-one tries to talk to him; they’re too busy fawning over their lord. Which is probably to be expected; but it all feels so strange, so unsettling, the way they all lean in towards it like flowers turning to face the sun, like seaweed dragged at by the inescapable pull of the tides. They grow towards it through the cracks in the air, matter moving toward the inevitable centre, as if they can imagine nothing more than this.

(Even more unsettling is the way it responds in kind, listening attentively to anyone who speaks to it, leaning in as though to kiss them, as though to swallow them whole. All hell, why did Pax agree to this? Why did they come?)

(They should have told it to fuck off. Should have said no way, I don’t want to help you, don’t want to get involved in anything you’d need my help for. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m done.)

(Pax is done. Pax is sick to death of all this shit; doesn’t want to deal with this, the vaguely described problems of a god that picks people apart like it’s unravelling a thick yarn shawl. Doesn’t want to deal with anything like this. He’s had his fill of gods.)

(Why is he still fucking here? Why did he agree to this? This is no better than eating in that weird fucking inn in town. This is no better than –)

(That’s a lie. It’s a bit better than Cyrodiil. Just as much a shithole, but it pulls the rug out from under him often enough that he doesn’t have time to think too much.)

“Not hungry?” says a prowling voice, coiling catlike into the plaits in their hair, and Pax jumps enough to jostle the masked bastard sitting ramrod straight next to him.

He looks up.

At the empty placemat across from him sits a figure veiled in gossamer, glittering in the glow of the lit-up lichen on the distant throne; the fabric of its endless shawls pulls apart at the ends, peeling away from itself, shedding patches like iridescent insect wings every time it shifts. If Pax squints, they can see through it to the grand marbled wall behind.

She glances back at the chair at the head of the table, where something lounges, eyes dripping gold, intricately carved cane laid across its knees; its too-many fingers are laced with the hand of a man whose gown blooms floral. Flatly, she says, “What the fuck?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sheogorath asks, pouting; she can hear it laughing down the other end of the table. “It’s a proper feast. We pulled out all the stops.”

Pax shifts their eyes away to peer down at their plate. “You have served me worms,” she says. She flicks the dish with a fingernail. “In jelly. With flowers.”

“Larva, actually,” Sheogorath replies. It’s still at the other end of the table. It doesn’t seem eager to explain this. When it smiles, the gossamer falls away; its whole face splits in half.

It’s all so fucking stupid. Pax takes a deep breath – in through the nose, ignore all the odd spiced smells, and out – and does not yell at it, or try to hit it, because she’s gotten herself into a situation where that’s not really an option, because she’s a fucking idiot. Why didn’t she just say no?

(She knows why.)

The Mad God’s teeth flash bright as the ornate silver cutlery. Its chair scrapes back from the table. “It melts in your mouth,” it tells her, eyes glittering, “but I won’t make you try it. Walk with me?”

The figure still sits at the head of the table, snatching something from someone’s plate, always, always laughing. Its limbs sprawl like tentacles, like the silken threads of a tapestry, to encompass the whole room. The dinner guests stare as though bewitched, bedevilled, beguiled. Not one of them is looking at Pax. If he were to drop dead with his face in the food his corpse would not be discovered until sunrise.

Pax sniffs and shoves his chair back from the table. He lets Sheogorath (the second Sheogorath – but it must be, what else could it be?) lead him through a narrow door into some winding hallway, the walls lined and rimed with ornate coloured-glass windows. (It’s so much quieter. Still as garishly bright, but Pax is getting the sense that that is inescapable, here; the clothes they wear, as crumpled and covered in travelling-grime as ever and startlingly out of place against the odd jagged finery of the dinner party, seem unimaginably dull in comparison. Everything seems unimaginably dull in comparison.) Outside the windows, they can catch glimpses of the city – its winding, lamp-lit streets, the jumbled mess of its architecture, the sky arcing above it like a child’s attempt at watercolours. Pax wants to smash it, tear it down.

There’s no sun here, but still it’s night. The sky has shifted to purple and black.

“Isn’t it nice?” says their companion; when they look back, it’s nothing more than a shifting impression in the stained-glass window, a series of hairline cracks. It still manages, somehow, to smile at them.

It’s not. The sky is a shadow and the flamboyance of the palace is scraping at their spine. “Sure,” Pax says flatly. When she flexes her fingers, the bruising staining the base knuckle of her thumb aches.

Sheogorath looks at her – an ancient man leaning on a stick, a flickering painting, a bloody corpse, a little girl in velvet-red skirts, a breath. In its mercurial shifting she catches the flowery blossom of the man at the table’s collar, an unpleasant glimpse of her own braided hair, the smell of sulphur. It tips its head. She can’t focus on it anywhere but for the eyes.

“You don’t like my dinner parties,” it announces, as though it’s a revelation, a tragedy; its body crumbles like sea cliffs slowly eroded by the ways. It’s annoying – bloody obnoxious, and incomprehensible, and kind of weird that it noticed, that it would even care. (She’s never liked dinner parties. Nobody ever commented on it before.)

I’ve had well enough of them, Pax could say, or no, I don’t like you, but it’s the fucking Mad God, Daedric Prince of – Pax doesn’t even know what, he’s never known much about this shit, only that it’s well worth avoiding. Prince of the mad and the missing and the foolish, of breaking and breaking and putting yourself back together backwards. She should have said no, but she didn’t, and who knows what would happen if she went back on that now?

It's slinking closer. All that stay static enough to make out are eyes and teeth.

“Pax, yes?” it says, soft-voiced – a hand lands on his arm, small and dry and shivering, the skin as thing as a mouldering leaf. “You have no obligations here. If you want to be on your own, be on your own. We’ve plenty of space for it.”

Pax’s eyes narrow. He does not jerk away from it.

In the light of the coloured sky, the coloured windows, its face is phantasmagorical. “If you don’t want to be here,” it continues – still so skin-pricklingly gentle – “then your hand will not be forced. I’ll speed your way home if you wish.”

They can’t help but twitch at that. It’s setting their teeth on edge. (It’s lying – has to be. After its ages of coaxing them in, meting out information, not telling them where they were until they were on its doorstep, it would not give them the chance to leave.) Rough, still covered in road-grime, Pax asks, “Why should I believe you?”

(None of them have ever given them the chance to leave.)

Sheogorath, a figure of hollow skin and bone, inclines its head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Pax,” it says. Its eyes are wide and bulging, whites on full display like a frightened horse; it grins again. “Others might. But we’re not a monolith. We’re not even especially similar.”

Pax bites down on the flat edge of their tongue. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The light coming in through the windows flickers. The Mad God turns to meet it.

“I’m the youngest,” it says, its voice glittering like mist on the air. “Did you know that? I don’t remember the world without you in it.” Its form spasms, volatile, wings and limbs and eyes like a snail’s on stalks sprouting and choking and subsiding back into its mass. “I’m closer to you than any. I understand, almost.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Pax repeats. She’s gritting her teeth, tonguing at her gums where two are missing. Are two devil-gods not enough to deal with for a lifetime? Is there really going to be more of this now, too?

Rolling through the air like smoke, the voice says, “It will.”

Pax presses purple-green knuckles to her mouth. Her teeth dig into the soft meat of her lip.

Sheogorath turns to face her, hair moving as though blown by the wind, as though tugged by the tides. It sighs. “You don’t believe me,” it says. Its tongue pokes through its teeth. “That’s perfectly fine. Clever, even. But if you want to leave, all you need to do is tell me so.” It pauses, then; the train of its strange, gnarled crown shifts over its shoulders when it moves its head. “Or just leave. The door is still open.”

“You’d be fine with me just leaving,” Pax rasps around his knuckle, “after weeks of not leaving me alone?”

(Of begging him to come, poorly-hidden agitation giving way to blatant franticness, half-swallowing the fear that choked its face in every mirror it spoke to him through. Of begging him still, after he got here, after he met it – begging in a roundabout manner, casual as anything, its every motion reeking of fear. Its abject terror when he turned to leave. You’ve come this far. Why not hear an old man out? Pax told it that it wasn’t an old man, that he didn’t give a shit either way, and it slid through a child, a monster, a sulphur-burned body coughing blood, his own shuddering form in armour he hasn’t seen in months, and it said please.)

(Regained its composure, its gentleman’s face, immediately afterward. But it – the Mad God, unknowable, inconsolable – said please. Pax still doesn’t know what to do with that.)

The Mad God, now, shrugs. Taps at the hairline cracks in the stained glass windows. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” it says, one pair of hands braiding something intricate into its beard. The hand on the glass slips down. “I told you. I do need a champion.”

“And I told you,” Pax bites, something aching and ugly surging in their gut, “not to call me that again.”

A smile, bloody-mouthed and beaming. “But we will abide,” says Sheogorath, and digs its fingers into the cracks of the stone. One brick slides loose, mortar dug up under its nails. It offers it up.

Pax licks their teeth and takes it.

The brick shivers, momentarily – crumbles, in their hand, like sand slithering through their fingers, and left in their palm is a hardy slip of bone. Spiked and sprawling, carved with intricate patterns; it arranges itself around an oval of empty space, the perfect size for four sharp-knuckled fingers.

“You can always leave,” the Mad God tells them, and for a moment it does look so very young and strangely, staggeringly hopeful. “But give it a chance. I think you could love the Isles, if you choose to.”

[lanayrutower]

ALSO does no one find it even a little weird how the old Zelda games firmly state that it's Hylia who built/was the first ruler of Hyrule (the king is just. sort of there), and then totk comes in and is like ahaaa no it's actually rauru who's so special and godlike actually. yeah, his wife was actually his priestess who once served him and then died stupidly because she wasn't paying attention. mmhm, she was also the reason ganon was able to take over hyrule and be super duper evil btw. uwu.

[lululeighsworld]

and for Gunter's birthday fic this year I finally ended up writing Leigh's love confession to him; I promise his birthday is relevant!! 💜❤️

Read the story here on AO3

[malleleothreesome]

YOUR MALLEUS POST IS JUST!!!!! AGDKFFLSVFL!!!! WHO KNOWS HOW MANY TIMES I RE-READ THAT THING BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!! 😫😭👌🖤💚

I'm so late to this but thank you so much Knight!! 🖤💚🖤💚 I'm so happy you enjoyed Blindfolded Malleus... I was so excited for you to read it, and I'm very happy it lived up to the hype and anticipation!!! Truly, I am so honored and grateful that you would re-read something so long 🥹 it amazes me how supportive you are!! I hope I can continue to write things that you enjoy! One day in the [regretfully] far future I swear to you that I will put out an Idia fic just for you hehehe. I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of things I am excited to write, but I guess that is a wonderful problem to have! I only wish I had more time in the day to write, but alas, such is life. Why the fUCk am I writing so formal right now daiohssadoi;hdSAO not me saying BUT ALAS. SUCH IS LIFE????? It is so.

I'm actually taking a TWELVE DAY vacation from work starting on the 22nd so I might actually do a little request event where people can send me like kink prompts or something. I think that'll be fun!

Okay and FINE I'll do some fluff prompts too for the fluff people but please don't judge my fluff too harshly, I'm still learning!!! For some reason smut just comes naturally dhaDSAHIDDASijdsan I'll start gathering some prompts and we will do a little ask game or something.

📣 By the way FELLOW HONEST THIGH RIDING ANON if you SEE this first of all, ONCE AGAIN: I wish to express my undying devotion to you and your exceptional thought process. I am positively frothing at the mouth over your request and I am PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE I am finally making good progress and it WILL be out soon. We WILL make him cum in his pants. We WILL make him cry, whimper, and moan.

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[reiverreturns]

some of the popular reactions to the ted lasso finale are a perfect example of why big fandoms are sometimes not all that fun tbqh

[oumaheroes]

I may be biased but of course ‘Odd Socks’ is my favourite story of yours 💖 (and probably my favourite thing I’ve ever read in general) I always go back to it if I’m feeling down or I’m just peckish for some scotfra and it always leaves me so satisfied and the ending always makes me so giddy with happiness. You capture everything so beautifully, it honestly feels like magic idk how you do it but you have a way of telling stories that’s so immersive and atmospheric and I can imagine them so vividly in my head being all in love and married and ahhh! I am going to go back and reread it in a minute ajhsjshsj one of my favourite parts of your writing is the dialogue, it’s such a hard thing to get right and you do it so flawlessly! I’ve said this before but reading the conversations between Arthur and Francis is always so fun, and I just love them in this fic 🥺 you have one of the most interesting and dynamic portrayals of them I’ve ever read and it’s probably my favourite ❤️

Phi... Phi 😭😭

I don't care if you're biased, this is such a lovely thing to hear and i want to squeeze you really tight ❤️ Odd socks was all for you, especially the dancing scene!!

[kurooh]

FILL ME UP ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. he thinks you look so pretty with his cum dripping from your pussy.

⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, kirishima eijirou, dabi, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, oral [f receiving], cum eating.

⟡ xoxo, juno: i’m sorry this is so short ): the past 72 hours have been horrible hahah

— MIDORIYA IZUKU.

unsurprisingly, he wants to get you pregnant someday; he cums the hardest whenever he thinks about filling you up with his cum and picturing your swollen belly.

“ah, baby, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum— fuck! where do you want it?” izuku stutters, hips jerking wildly as pleasure zaps through him like lightning.

“inside, ‘zuku..”

“a-are you sure?” his voice rises in surprise and he doesn’t know where to put his hands when you thrust your ass into his pelvis. your eyes are hooded when you turn, tossing him a look over your shoulder that has him spilling inside of you with a desperate whine.

izuku cums so much that it starts to run down the length of his cock, so he collects the excess on his fingers before rubbing his sticky fingers against your clit.

you moan lowly, “fuck it deep, izu.”

with a shaky nod and a tight grip on your hips, he complies, thrusting into you hard. despite having cum already, he feels his cock throb, eager to fill you up again.

“can i cum again, please? need to fill you up!”

— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI.

he fills you up because he has a possession kink.. in his mind, cumming inside you makes you his. he’ll take photos/videos of you dripping with his cum and jerk off to it later.

“s-shit, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” katsuki grits out, pressing into the backs of your thighs to make the mating press a little closer. your ankles rest on his shoulders, feet dangling, gold anklet with a ‘k’ he gave you catching the afternoon light through the window.

you grin up to him, before pleasure washes over your whole body and your face falls as you moan. “go ahead and fill it up, kat.. i need it so badly.”

“shit, you’re not on the pill.” crimson eyes are full of worry and thoughtfulness.

“i don’t fucking care,” you groan, your eyes rolling back when the tip of his cock presses deep inside you, in just the right place.

katsuki doesn’t doubt you, or object — after all, he wants to fill you up. but why are his balls clenching at your words, his cock spilling cum deep inside you so quickly?

you feel his cock tighten inside you before heat is gushing all over you, sending you right into your own orgasm. he pulls back to stare, watching wide eyed as his cum drips out of your fluttering hole.

“fuck, you’re so good. i’ll never be able to pull out again, god.”

— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

he loves to make you as messy as possible, and then he’ll lick it all up.

“mmmh, ‘m still sensitive eiji..” your words come out as a soft mewl as your boyfriend spreads your legs open eagerly.

“wanna taste,” eijirou mumbles, eyes hooded as he notices your hole clench on nothing as he licks smeared cum off your thigh. “i also wanna make you cum again, yeah?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter when he drags his tongue along the sides of your pussy, collecting your squirt and his own cum on his tongue. eijirou swallows, kissing your clit with a quiet moan before he’s licking a stripe between your folds.

when he hears you whimper at the light touch, he fights off a smile and dips his tongue inside you easily. he tastes the bitterness of his own cum and the sweetness of your slick, and lets out a groan as his cock throbs against the bed beneath him.

“god.. ‘s good.” he doesn’t hesitate to pull back, pressing his tongue flat against your clit. then he slides his fingers into you, looking up at you eagerly. eijirou’s eyes meet yours, and he grins at just how shy you look.

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you squirt again, yeah? focus on me.”

— DABI [TODOROKI TŌYA].

whenever tōya’s feeling jealous, he fills you up and makes you cry.. sometimes he likes to fuck you on top of a building or in an alleyway during pro-hero hawks’ patrols.

“you gotta scream for me, doll,” tōya hisses before biting into your shoulder while his grip on your neck gets tighter.

face burning with horniness and head spinning, you let out a long whine, and it echoes in the secluded alleyway. “fill me up and make me yours, tōya!”

he ignores the rustle of feathers from above, and only fucks into you harder. a thin sheen of sweat gleams on the darkened skin of his chest, the staples shining even more in the light.

tōya thinks you look beautiful like this, back against the wall and oh so pliant — letting him bounce you on his cock, or fuck your hole until all you can slur out is his name.

“louder. let the whole city know who’s fuckin’ you, doll.”

— TAKAMI KEIGO.

though he’s human, his bird-like quirk influences so much about him, such as his food choices, interests, and the way he likes to fuck.

vermillion wings rustle beneath you as you ride keigo’s cock into oblivion. his head is thrown back, golden tufts spread out on the car seat around it; above, your holding down both of his wrists tightly.

“lemme touch you, dove, come onnn.”

“no,” you gasp after a particularly deep stroke, “you’re just g-gonna bounce me up ��nd down, and i want to ride you.”

your eyes close tightly as you languidly drag yourself up and down, pussy squeezing him so tight he feels like he’s about to burst. slowly, he feels himself thicken, approaching his high.

it’s as if a switch is flipped.

without even holding your hips and waist, keigo slams his hips upwards into you, stretching out your pussy almost mercilessly.

“keigo! that’s not— fuck!” your voice breaks off into a gasp, tits bouncing as he fucks you hard.

“g-gotta fill you up, dove.” his golden eyes are dark, swirling with some kind of breeding instinct. his wings are fluttering now, beating the air so strongly that goosebumps rise on your skin.

keigo’s entire body lurches beneath you as he chokes out a groan, “nghhh— i’m cumming, shit..”

his cock spills inside of you, effectively filling you up. however, he makes no move to pull out. when you start to sit up, he stops you.

“mm mm. let’s let it sit for a while, ‘nd i’ll stay inside, alright?”

[tojisun]

Okay, now I need something about bf!logan and his girl making a porno (bonus points if wade finds out after the show they put on for him and that man is willing to RISK IT ALL to see that sex tape😩🤣)

cw: porn link; f!reader; smut; consensual filming during sex; slight sexting at the end // divider by @/plutism!

this is definitely the porno they were making <3

logan has you on your knees, your ass dimpling with every one of his greedy caresses, his heavy hand kneading your flesh. you’re whining to be creampied—to be bred—and logan indulges you with a quiet chuckle because you’re so adorable like this, all needy and demanding, babbling nothing but nonsense because he’s fucked you to the point of incoherence.

you jut out your chin at his croon. he tells you to do it yourself if you really want his cum; says that you’ve got to show him how much you need it.

“an’ here i thought i was bein’ a gentleman,” logan says, sighing in that what-can-you-do? tone like he hadn’t been fucking you so hard, you were sure that the condom was on the brink of ripping.

you grumble, rolling your eyes even mid-tears, before reaching back to where he’s got his cock rutting along the cleft of your ass. you give it a stroke, giggling breathily to yourself at its sheer girth and weight, before sliding your hand down to the pinched tip and tugging.

logan moans, and it rumbles deep, sending tingles to rise from the tips of your toes to the base of your neck. he sounds just a little too excited, and you wonder how you must look as you reach for the rubber, tugging it off the expanse of his cock. do you look desperate, the camera capturing the way you’re shivering like you’re on cum-withdrawals? or do you look like the brat that you are, whining how sex is not enough until logan’s pumping you full of his sperm?

god, the thought that this moment is being immortalized makes you clench at nothing, your hole puckering as it waits to be filled.

the condom comes off with a pop, the rubber snapping off and into itself. it sounds so lewd and dirty, like the two of you are really starring in a corny porno, and it fills your cheeks with warmth as your need wanes in the face of your shyness.

you fling the condom to the side, before burrowing your face on the pillows, as though that alone can hide the palpable hunger rippling from you. logan laughs at your reaction like he’s not softly humping his cock between your thighs, rutting it along the wet mess he’s made out of your cunt.

“y’ready, bub?” logan asks, still giddy with his laugh. you grumble a reply, before jutting your head in a stilted nod.

he taps his weeping cock along your folds, testing, and you shuffle in your impatience. you feel the itch exploding, the need to be stuffed bloating, but logan continues to tease and god, pleasepleaseplease—

“i’ve got you, darl,” he grunts, then he’s pushing in, steady and filling, and, and—

the moan that’s ripped from your throat sounds foreign, like you’re a damn wounded animal. you don’t even get to adjust to his width—pussy lips going taut at his thickness—before logan’s drawing his cock out until all that’s left is the head. there’s a bated breath that you two share, leaving you suspended in anticipation, then he’s bullying it back in.

you flop on the bed, all useless now like you’ve got your strings cut loose. logan doesn’t seem to mind, not with the consistent ringing slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass echoing in your quaint room. god, your brain’s being scrambled right now, you’re sure, because you can’t even think of anything but logan—

loganloganlogan.

you’re already cross-eyed by the time he sprays his first load inside you.

.

wade gets a five second clip from logan’s number. the thumbnail is just a blur of colours and wade’s interest is piqued because logan rarely reaches out to him—a video is just unthinkable.

he was expecting many things—that the video is the one of deadpool being broadcasted on national television with the words “hero or criminal?” after he’s accidentally set the robber’s van on fire, or that the video is an accidental recording of logan’s butt because that wolverine suit was tight and wade can’t even think where logan must keep his phone with him.

but this—

wade wasn’t expecting this.

it was a video of you—wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that he’s memorized the way you look from all angles; what? one doesn’t get a show of wolverine fucking his girl without gaining a new hyperfixation—reaching for logan’s monster cock. wade breathes in sharply as he watches you reach for the condom before tugging it off with a filthy, filthy pop. the video cuts into a next scene of logan relentlessly fucking you hard; the audio is a mess of squeaks and slaps, but also the wet squelches of logan’s cock fucking in-and-out of your gaping cunt.

two things:

1. that’s fucking hot.

2. that video has clearly been tampered with; it was edited to show the barest of the highlights.

this was a conscious decision, with deliberate efforts. this was personal.

an invitation.

wade rubs one… okay, fine.

wade rubs three out before he’s running back to that apartment he’s daydreamed about. mid-parkour, another notifcation comes in. wade falls, because of course he does, but while he waits for his ankle to mend itself back into its socket, his eyes devour the new message.

> darl wants to know if you’re in.

wade sends a dick pic as a reply.

wade busting a fat nut behind tim hortons because he’s patriotic like that

(ext)