#possessive villain

[villain-enthusiast]

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do dom villain x dom hero (maybe a sprinkle of nsfw- not explicit though!) I love your blog and youre so good at writing!

OH YEAHHH. 😝

-

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

The villain arched a brow, casually leaning their shoulder into the doorframe of the entrance they were blocking. “No.”

The hero stormed up to the villain, jabbing a finger into their chest. “Don’t think you’re some kind of martyr,” they hissed between bared teeth. “I have a job to do.”

The villain blinked slowly at them, a show of smug, egotistical elegance. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Don’t question my competence,” the hero snapped. “I’ve done my research on these people, on these murderers. I know exactly who’s in this building and I know exactly what to do with them.”

The villain sucked on their teeth, as if they found the hero’s rage amusing. As if this was all a fucking joke. As if the mafia group past this entrance wasn’t getting further away with every passing second—

“You can yell at me all you want about competence and research.” The villain’s dark stare glittered with something incomprehensible. “You won’t get past me.”

Fuck this. “I’m not going to tell you again.” The hero maintained eye contact, sending the hellfire of their emotions into their glare. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

The villain leaned forward suddenly, bearing down so they were eye-level with the hero. The tip of their tongue wet their bottom lip, and the hero’s gaze���so, so traitorously—flicked down to follow the movement.

Teasing. The villain was teasing them.

Fuck. This.

”Then move me.” A rugged smirk tugged at the villain’s mouth, begging a challenge. “I’m not doing anything except blocking the doorway, sweetheart.”

The hero scowled, eyes flicking up and down the villain, assessing their body; that incredibly toned, impossibly muscular body—

“Fine,” the hero spat, flinging their arms out to grab the villain and shove them away—

The villain moved lightning fast.

Before the hero could even fully process what happened, they found themselves pressed against the brick doorframe, trapped between the wall and the hard planes of the villain’s body. Even their wrists had been caught and pinned above their head with one hand.

The hero sputtered.

“Hmm,” the villain mused, their breath tickling the hero’s cheek. “Well that didn’t last long, did it?”

”Fuck you,” the hero snarled, struggling against the villain, pulling at their incapacitated arms. They were left panting and shaking hair out of their eyes. “Fuck. You.”

The villain chuckled lowly. “You don’t have to tell me twice, love.”

The hero felt their cheeks burn. “Shut up and let me go.” Shit, their target was probably already gone by now.

The villain fake-pouted. “Can’t you spare a few minutes here with me? You know I’ll make every second count.” Again, their eyes sparkled with that unintelligible emotion, and again, their stupid tongue ran over their lips, wetting them.

God, it made the hero want to do unspeakable things. Things they would obviously never, ever do—

Target. Mafia. Job. The hero’s mind flailed for footing, footing that was quickly disappearing as the press of the villain’s muscles against their own became more and more apparent.

”Fuck, hero,” the villain breathed, as if they too were losing all semblance of control. Their head dropped into the crook of the hero’s neck, lips just grazing their collarbone.

The hero inhaled sharply, biting down on the inside of their cheek.

Target. Mafia. Job.

The villain’s breath was hot against the bare skin of their shoulder, scattering their common sense. Too close. Everything was too close.

“Hero,” the villain said again, and the way the name rolled from their mouth was almost like a plea, or maybe a prayer.

Whatever it was, it was the hero’s undoing.

“Two minutes,” the hero gasped out. “Only two—,”

Once the villain’s lips made contact, two minutes quickly became the rest of the night.

[villainousauthor]

"I cannot believe you! I don't wanna even see your face right now." Hero rages, throwing their hands up in disbelief. They're dressed down in their normal civilian clothes, and so is Villain, who's currently looking at them all too pleased.

"I mean, can you blame me?" Villain asks, voice still light.

"Yes! This is the third date of mine you've ruined this month," Hero steps up to Villain, getting in their face, pointing at them as they talk. "What I do outside of my Hero work is absolutely none of your concern."

"Oh please, none of these people have even been worthy-"

"This guy was so nice! I could have really liked him." Hero interrupts, eyebrows drawn down into a harsh glare. Villain grabs the hand currently inches from jabbing them in the chest, holding it tight in their own grip.

"That's part of the problem. I don't want you getting too entwined with any of these lesser people. Your focus should be on me," The Villain's voice was now laced with seriousness, making sure their claim was understood. "Us, our fights, our rivalry. Me."

"Possessive freak." Hero bites back, but doesn't take their hand away.

"Let me make it up to you if it upsets you that much. I'll take you out to dinner."

[caker-baker]

Playing Sides

The detective allowed themself tense shoulders and whitened knuckles, if only to properly play the game.

Body language could make and break this meeting, and they needed to be a collection of fearful memories on display for the villain, an offering, appeasement, something else here and there.

If anyone other than the villain noticed the act, they were obviously choosing not to say something, going about their individual days, drinking coffee and politely nibbling on microwaved pastries.

But those people didn’t matter, not when there was something else much more pressing at the table.

“This seems a tad…” The villain sitting across from the appeasing detective took their time looking for the word. “incompatible.”

The detective only spared a sweeping glance at the rest of the cafe. “For you or for me?”

Chuckling, the villain raised their coffee cup to their lips. “Tricky, tricky, tricky. Always is with you.” They took an appreciative sip, eyes never leaving the detective. “What is this act you’re putting on? It’s good, believable, but not enough of a constant for me to place any value in it. I don’t appreciate attempts at flattery.”

The first thought was to argue, because why wouldn’t it be? The detective was a professional, their job was to unearth, discover, and find the final truth, the one answer.

Sitting in front of an anthropomorphized file of contradictions with the ability to lie, could, arguably, make the detective jumpy, twitching to argue and argue and argue until that final truth was revealed.

“Maybe it’s not an act.” The detective finally said, not exactly an argument, but a halfway concession, relaxing their muscles, loosening the vice grip on their coffee. “Maybe I’m scared.”

“But not of me.”

“Should I be?”

The villain offered a closed lip smile, one motion away from baring their teeth.

“I don’t so much mind you, my dear detective friend.”

“I don’t care for flattery, either.” The detective said.

“Good thing it wasn’t flattery. You would notice if I were to compliment you.” The villain watched them, particularly their relaxed hands.

The detective managed to rid the urge to move their hands then and there, stayed completely still even as the chill creeped up their spin.

“No, no, not flattery.” The villain continued. “Merely acknowledging the truth. We have a good deal going for each other.” They leaned forward. “Which is why this meeting worries me, why I was unconvinced of your taut facade, your attempts of appeasement.”

The detective straightened, knowing well enough that the villain was mocking their strategy.

“You were hoping to…what? Beg for some sort of help?”

“No.”

“Ask for something, then?”

The detective stayed silent, looking away as the villain stared them down, goading them on in their silent way.

The two did have a good deal going on, and if the detective was wrong, this could ruin that.

But they weren’t wrong.

“There have been whispers, Villain.”

“There tend to be, yes, old friend.”

“About something, someone, coming.” If the villain wanted to respond, the detective wasn’t going to give them a chance. “Now, you know me, you know us, our usual deal. I play both sides of the fence, just barely. Lately, during some of my data tracking for the heroes, I’ve noticed a disturbing pattern.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been forced to wonder something, I have a question for you. All I need is a simple yes or no-”

“Going to stop you there.” The villain set down their cup, fixing the detective with a colder, less amicable gaze. “I do know our usual deal, which is why I’m insulted now. You wanted information, pertinent, valuable information about something disturbing, and you were hoping to bargain with your fear?”

“Villain-”

Their eyes widened, the table under their fist began to crack.

“Careful.”

The detective couldn’t hide any body language from that, flinching at the tone of voice, tones, that the villain had - a million low voices all merging into one, horrific growl that sent shivers wracking up the detective’s spine, hurting their very bones.

“My guilt!” The detective spat out, ignoring the building bone nausea. “It wasn’t fear. You’re right. I’m not scared, not yet, but I’m guilty, and I will be terrified depending on your answer. If this ends up a yes, then I’m prepared to offer you something that I cannot take back, Villain. I’ll trade in something terrible for the rest of us, if it means I have the smallest chance to prepare.”

Those wide eyes narrowed, but the cracking table at least stopped, and the million low voices returned to one.

“Do tell.”

“Answer me first.”

“Tricky, tricky, trick.” The villain relaxed into their chair, amused now. “I’ll decide if it’s worth answering, Detective. Seem fair? Ask your silly yes or no question.”

Another sweep around the coffee shop, everything going according to how the detective had set up.

“Normally, your type gets quiet, goes under radar before a bigger stunt is pulled. I keep track, alert the proper channels, make sure not too many civvies are in a particular high risk zone at a given day. Some contacts in other big cities have reached out, said it’s been too quiet, everyone’s been too quiet.”

The villain’s amusement had already been fanned like a flame, crossing their arms and watching the detective lay it out for them as if it was some soap opera.

“I’ll spare you too many details, but I have reason to believe something big is being planned for here.” They held up a hand, watching the villain’s eyebrow quirk up. “I just need to know, yes or no, is this happening? Is my home going to be razed down for a personal vendetta? A final heroes vs. villains?”

The villain looked the detective up and down.

“If you knew the answer to that, what would you do?”

“Let you and yours duke it out with the heroes. Take the place if you want, it’s only a place, but I’d like to minimize civvy death count, Villain. I’d get in touch with those channels and start mass evacuation. I’d start it now.”

“And now the fun part.” They leaned in again. “What could you offer me in exchange for this answer? What could bring you of all people to guilt? You, whom I almost respect?”

The detective swallowed, and placed their bag on the table, letting the villain take a look inside.

Body language would make or break this.

“Power dampening cuffs. A prototype. I can’t guarantee they work. But I’m sure if you and yours worked together, you could figure something out.”

For the first time, the villain seemed surprised, hardly giving the prototype cuffs another glance.

“Detective-”

“I can’t guarantee they work.” The detective repeated. “But in this squabble of yours that may or may not be coming up, you could use these, and they would help, I know they would.”

“Hm. And you’ll let me walk out with these and the current schematics if I answer you? What if I lie? You make the wrong call, and I still have these. Maybe I will lie, maybe I want to see you be horribly wrong at such a cost.”

“You don’t.” The detective wasn’t wrong. They weren’t.

“Why’s that?”

“It would be no fun for you. You couldn’t almost respect me if this was the end of our partnership, my too easy failure.”

There was so much the detective was betting on, and knowing the villain was one of them.

The villain was a villain through and through, conniving, powerful, selfish, dangerous. And sometimes, those traits, the selfishness, carried into these little deals of theirs.

No, the villain wouldn’t want this to end without a bang. The villain would want to string along the detective until there was no more use of them.

“In a way,” The villain said, standing and grabbing the bag. “You’re right. It would be no fun. I don’t just want these, though. I want something else.”

“Answer the question, I’ll see what else I can do.”

The villain stared down at the detective for a long time. A minute. Two. Three. Or maybe it was only three seconds, stretched out into the fraying ends of a perfectly planned meeting.

“Yes.” The villain finally said. “The answer is yes, something is coming.”

The detective stood, not too quickly. “Thank you. I appreciate that. What do you want? Codes to inaccessible areas? You can have them as soon as-”

Reaching across, the villain grasped the detective’s shoulder. “The ramifications of razing this city down, as you so put, were lost on me. How could you and I keep this up if you’re running off, evacuating with the other saps?” They watched how the detective’s eyes flitted to the villain’s hand. “What I want, Detective, is to keep having fun.”

“Villain, there’s not much you or I can do to continue this deal of ours if there’s all out super war-”

“You play for heroes and villains, or, excuse me, just barely.” Their hand tightened on the detective’s shoulder. “Let’s see what sort of fun we can have with that.”

Before the detective could open their mouth, the villain smiled, and the two disappeared.

[wh3nturtlesfly]

CW: Suggestive

“You’re late.” The lamp beside the couch flickered on, and with it Villain’s displeased expression emerged.

“You’re trespassing.” Hero shrugged off their coat and made the rest of the way inside, trying to ignore the glare trained on their every movement. Hero grimaced at the charred fabric of their uniform, a setback that had nearly gotten them hurt tonight.

“You didn’t answer my calls. All six times.”

“I was busy,” Hero rubbed their tired eyes. Muscles sore from the fight, they were hardly in the mood for Villain’s attitude. Their nemesis clearly had other ideas.

It only took a beat for Villain to cross the room, slinking through the shadows with a feline grace. Hero hadn’t caught the movement until Villain was close, eyes dark as they pulled the closet door shut.

“I thought we'd discussed this before,” Villain’s voice had dropped dangerously low. They inched closer, forcing Hero back. “You know I don’t like it when you’re out for so long.”

“It was an emergency,” Hero caught Villain’s wrists before they could fully pin them against the wall. Their partner only scoffed, eyes alight with something dangerous.

Villain leaned close, their lips brushing lightly over Hero’s jaw. Hero shuddered. “I highly doubt it was pressing enough,” Villain edged closer, “Especially not to deprive me of our precious time together.”

The corners of their lips turned up and through half-lidded eyes Villain gazed upon Hero. Their Hero. “Since you decided to be gone for so long-,” they trailed a teasing finger down the Hero’s torso, thumbing at the hem of their shirt and earning a lovely shiver in return, “I’ll show you how much I missed you.”

Villain lunged forward, pressing their lips to the Hero’s throat.

A gasp escaped the crimefighter, words completely forgotten the moment Villain trailed down farther. They worked across the Hero’s collarbone, gentle where their previous battle had left scrapes and burns. Still, when it came to the rest of Hero, they were anything but careful.

With a hand on either side of their waist, Villain bracketed Hero’s form. They pressed closer, a devilish smile gracing their face each time they paused to catch a breath. Hero bit hard on the inside of their cheek if only to keep from falling apart. The feeling of Villain’s lips across their skin was intoxicating and soon they had threaded a hand through the Villain’s hair to pull them closer.

Villain finally managed to meet them at the lips and Hero melted. It was exactly what their nemesis had wanted. A grin overtook their features before they surged forward, taking the Hero all for their own. Villain’s cool fingers managed to wander their way under their shirt and a shiver sent its way up the Hero’s spine. They gasped into the Villain’s mouth, and received a low chuckle in return.

Just as fast as it had begun, Villain broke away, smirking when Hero chased after them. They stopped them with a finger to their lips, “So eager,” Villain hummed and trailed the same finger down the Hero’s jaw, descending further to dip just under the collar of their shirt, “I warned you what happens when you cross me.”

They leaned forward again, just enough to press a chaste kiss to the Hero’s cheek. A sultry smile emerged on Villain’s face. “So now love, have you learned your lesson?”

It took a moment for the Hero to process it, caught up on the pure bliss that filled their core. Slowly their eyes met that of their partners and they managed to get out a small nod.

Villain chuckled, “That’s good.” They held the Hero close, carding a hand gently through their hair. “No other Villain deserves you. You are mine, and I am yours.” Villain’s eyes slid shut, overcome with delight as they trailed their fingers across their Hero’s skin. “Believe me when I say I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

Hero sighed, overcome with delight. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[amethystpath-writes]

No, No, No

NOT A PR0MPT

I present to you /*…a vampire snippet. Yippee! Tough themes: character death, a little bit of blood- not descriptive, possessive and manipulative villain. Arguably not the worst, but worth mentioning :p

******

“Hero, we need to-” Lover’s voice was cut off with a loud bang. Hero would have screamed if her ears hadn’t rang out first, but the sound was so loud that any and all processors went out the window.

In a daze, she looked behind her. What happened? What was that sound? Was it really Lover’s voice she heard? Where was he? Hero held her head to settle the swaying of her vision.

“I warned him.” The footsteps entering her room was what drew her attention to Lover.

A shrill gasp filled her ears. It was her. Her gasp. Lover’s body. Her tears. On his red chest.

She found him, and oh, how she wished she hadn’t.

“No,” she heard herself say. “No, no, no, no, no!”

“He could have left. I gave him the opportunity to, but oh no. Poor. Hero.”

Hero couldn’t stop the no’s from spilling. She tripped over them, mumbled and groaned and cried, rocked back on her heels and rested her knees against Lover’s back. “Say something. Lover, stay with me, please.”

She hadn’t paid attention as to where the steps came from, where they were going, or even where they stopped. If she had been paying attention, she would know the footsteps stopped where Lover’s head lay, where she was crying and shaking her partner’s body. So much hope, and what for?

“Come on, up you get.”

Hero wasn’t sure of the words leaving her mouth. All she knew was that she was screaming so hard that her voice could no longer be heard. Not by herself, not by the man hefting her over a shoulder, and certainly not by Lover, who Hero now realized was in a pool of something glistening.

The moonlight filtered through so perfectly through Hero’s room at night. It only brightened her room after 3am, so she didn’t get to bask in it often. Had the circumstances been different tonight, Hero would have ran to her window and watched the moon until she could hardly keep her eyes open. The light was bright enough to lull her to sleep, and dim enough that it barely reminded her of what she was as it touched her skin.

“You can’t leave him! You can’t leave!” The pool, she finally realized, was blood. Lover was bleeding out. Of course, his chest was red earlier, when she pressed her head aside it, but Hero thought…well, Hero was in shock. She didn’t think anything.

“The money is in bringing you back alive. No matter for anything else.”

The word ‘money’ did not register in Hero’s brain. This man was being paid to kidnap her by any means necessary, including killing Lover and leaving him to rot on the floor of their bedroom.

She swung her legs into her captor’s legs, trying to aim higher or lower- wherever his more sensitive spots were. She felt disoriented, but she punched and kicked and kneed and-

“You keep doing that and you’re not going to like the consequences.”

But Hero wasn’t good at listening, especially when it came down to large, burly men carrying her over a shoulder. She screamed, “Put me down!” until there was a rasp in her voice.

The man obliged, bouncing his shoulder so that Hero’s body became unhooked from his own. However, he kept hold of her legs so that they acted as a fulcrum. Hero’s body fell back and she had only a moment to realize that she was about to hit the ground.

In the next moment, Hero was opening her eyes against weights on her lashes. She was tired- so tired.

“You look unwell. Go back to sleep, doll.”

Her eyes were already half-closed by the time the voice spoke. She easily agreed with it. She didn’t feel well, as much as she was sure she looked unwell.

But then again, her eyes were opened, and though she was unsure whether it was the same moment, or another undetermined amount of time, she wasn’t susceptible to suggestion.

A groan escaped her lips as she drearily blinked. All she could focus on was the intense throbbing at the back of her head. Hero touched a finger to it. She gasped, not at the pain which erupted at her own touch, but at the fact that everything she thought she remembered, every hazy detail, was real. “Lover.”

“Not quite.”

Her head snapped up, taking in the room she sat in for the first time. And not just the room. Villain.

“Where am I?” she demanded, though her voice shook.

The room was grey, and Hero could only tell by the hand-width slit in the wall, which allowed for one beam of sunlight to come through. Aside from Villain standing across the beam of light, the room was empty.

“You’re home, with me,” Villain said. When Hero didn’t respond, he continued, “I heard you put up quite the fight.”

Why wouldn’t she? Large men walking into her room after her partner just…“Where is he?”

Villain returned her question with a smile. With just the barest daylight seeping through, Hero could only slightly see the wicked teeth that scared her away so long ago, the ones she found her tongue rubbing against in her own mouth. She recoiled from herself.

“You think Lover was your friend?”

“He was my partner.”

He began stepping forward, slowly, as if preparing to comfort Hero. “He was hindering you, my sweet, from your full potential.”

Her gums were throbbing, something that hadn’t happened since she and Lover became an item. Even when the man broke in, Hero felt more confused than fearful or defensive.

“You cannot change what you are.”

“I wouldn’t even be this if it wasn’t for you,” she bit back. Her gums hurt badly enough that a short whine escaped her.

“Do you know why it hurts?” Villain asked. “Your head, your gums, Lover’s death?”

Death? No, he wasn’t dead. Sure, he was injured, and badly at that, but no, Lover wasn’t dead; he couldn’t be.

“It’s because you ran, Hero. I was willing to help you adjust, to grow into what you are, but you refuse to embrace it. You want that pain to go away, don’t you?”

Her pain had nothing to do with her running. If anything, she should have run away so much sooner. In fact, never knowing Villain would have been the best. He was a predator, a killing machine. And now, Hero was just the same- or would be, if she didn’t choose to control her urges.

“I’ve dealt with the pain for long enough.” And it was true, she had. “I don’t need to conform to it, or whatever it is you’re trying to convince me to do. I don’t need this,” she said. “I don’t need you.”

“You love me,” the villain said. “And I know you do because I can feel your heart beating from here.” Here, being two feet away from her. Still, it was a distance that no regular human would sense a heartbeat from.

“I am terrorized by you. I am horrified and I’m scared.” She didn’t want to give him the upper hand or any advantage of the situation, but what didn’t Villain already have? He was suave and he got his way with anyone. He was strong- mentally and physically, and it wasn’t just because of his theory of ‘leaning into vampirism.’ He killed Lover- no, not killed. He hurt Lover, and Hero was going to get him back.

“You’re still thinking of the mortal.”

“Get out of my head.”

“You can come back to me, Hero. That- that temptation is gone, and I’m here for you. I’ll help you adjust.”

“Stay away from me,” she blurted as Villain took a step towards her. “Stay away from me. I don’t want you. I will never love you, Villain. Never.”

Now this…this stopped Villain in his tracks. While his emotions were known for being hidden, now they were ever clear. Anger. Disgust. Vengeance.

“You’ll learn,” he said. “You’ll learn that you need me more than the very blood in your veins. When you’re starved- because you don’t have that little blood bag you called Lover- you will beg me to love you like I did. You’ll beg me to give you another chance. And because I won’t bow to you, bow to you like I did the moment I turned you, you’ll stand in that window until you burn.”

Hero felt the heat of him, the anger pulsating against the beating of her heart. Whether she liked it or not, the two of them were synced.

“When you fall, it will be no one’s fault but your own. I offered my love. You denied it.”

With this, Villain left, and Hero cried in his wake.

[the-broken-pen]

if ur doing requests, I would absolutely looveeee anything w enemies being forced to work together/fake dating <3 thank you!

“Smile, hero,” the villain murmured. “There’s photographers.”

The hero pulled back, looping her arms over his shoulders as he looked softly at her. Cameras flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she grinned at him, digging her nails into the back of his neck.

He hid his wince with a smile.

“Maybe stop trying to rip out my spinal cord in public, love.”

“Sorry babe.” She smiled wider. “I’ll save it for the bedroom.”

His hands settled on her waistline, tugging her flush against him.

“Oh, hero,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “And when my blood is on your hands, what then? The public adores you, but do you really think they won’t slaughter you for ruining their ‘golden couple’?”

She had to turn her face into the side of his neck to hide her snarl, because he was right. Her superiors knew who he was. They knew who they forced her to work with, stand with, fall in love with. And they had her do it anyways, because they looked pretty together in pictures, and the media couldn’t decide if they wanted to be with them or be them.

The perfect pair—the golden couple.

“Hmm?”

She could feel him grinning, real this time, all cat like satisfaction and cruel amusement.

“Go fuck yourself,” she hissed, and he laughed.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She put her palm to his chest and shoved, grabbing his lapel.

“I love you,” she breathed, soft with adoration. Someone cooed, and the camera flashed.

His smile was sharp.

“Oh,” he agreed, “I know.”

Someone reached for her arm, and he caught it before they could touch her. For a moment, just a moment, she saw that writhing mass of power beneath, the darkness he hid so well with a smile.

“Sorry, sorry,” the person apologized as the villain released their hand. “I figured I should introduce myself—”

“Colonel,” the villain greeted, and the man shook his hand. He almost reached for hers, then thought better of it, eyes darting to the villain. Anger flared in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re enjoying yourselves?”

She smoothed a hand down the side of her dress, beaming. “Oh, absolutely, I—”

The villain wrapped a hand around her waist and tugged, pressing her against him. She slammed her foot into his.

“We should be going,” he said pointedly, and the Colonel swallowed once. He disappeared into the crowd and she whirled on the villain, eyes flashing.

“God, can you be less possessive?”

“They know who I am. You think they expect me to play nice, especially when I’m clearly so taken with you?”

He looked out over the floor, eyes catching on everyone who was pretending not to watch them. She glared at him.

“You—’’

“Hero, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“That’s the plan,” she snapped, and his smile was real again. She didn’t resist as he tugged her closer.

“I think maybe I could love you,” he said casually, and before she could manage a response he twined his fingers through her hair and kissed her.

It was like being swallowed by the sun. She melted into him and he kissed her like she was everything, as if he took every breath for one more chance to see her face, every heartbeat for another second to spend with her.

They broke apart, and she was gasping, his grip on her hair the only thing keeping her up.

He winked, smirking, like he knew that and was proud of it.

Her lipstick was smeared on his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon.

This would be splashed across the news by midnight.

“I hate you,” she reminded him, half breathless. At some point her hands had ended up in his hair.

“Maybe,” he grinned roguishly. “But you love the way I kiss you.”

And he kissed her again.

[mentalityofacoolduck]

Prompt #3

Warning: yandere themes

Supervillain assigns Villain to fight Hero. Villain and Hero engage in fights and banters and eventually grow to become good friends, even though they're on opposite sides. As time passes, Villain develops feeling for Hero and decides to confess. Hero rejects Villain, because them being together could put them both in danger. Eventually, Villain's innocent crush turns into something more sinister, and they begin stalking Hero and prevent any other Villain from fighting them. They start acting creepy and possessive, and it eventually gets so bad even Supervillain notices. Supervillain gets so creeped out by Villain's behavior, they take it upon themselves to protect Hero from Villain.

[villain-enthusiast]

The hero coughed blood.

Fucking shit, they thought frantically, hand pressed over the gaping wound in their side. Their new opponent packed a serious punch, more than what the agency had expected when they sent the hero out to stop them. Somehow they’d escaped, but not without the nasty stab to their stomach.

Class two villain my ass. The hero grunted as they stumbled into an alleyway, nearly slamming their shoulder into one of the brick walls. They slipped into damp corner and sat down gingerly, their breathing shallow. Cold sweat broke out on their forehead.

They shook the sputtering communication device on their wrist. Busted. The hero suddenly realized with disturbing clarity that they would die here if they didn’t get help soon, bleeding their guts out on the floor.

Blinding pain shot through their torso, and they closed their eyes, muscles clenching. They couldn’t stand up, not without passing out. And with their internal bleeding, pressure to the wound would be largely ineffective.

They were so totally fucked.

“Hero?”

The hero’s lids snapped open. The cloaked figure before them dipped and swayed, but they forced themselves to concentrate. No, that wasn’t their assaulter, that was—

“Villain,” they rasped.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” The villain’s tone was mocking, but could the hero hear a hint of concern?

The hero attempted a sloppy smirk as they approached. “Oh, y’know, just decided to get stabbed and die today. Regular hero shenanigans.” Shit, their words were slurring.

The villain didn’t respond, crouching down in front of them. Their fingers brushed over the throbbing cut on their cheek, ghosted over the bruise on their jaw—it was funny, the hero noted, how the villain's first instinct was to check their face—before trailing down to the still-bleeding wound at their side. Their hand paused.

The silence was so thick that the hero could hear their wavering heartbeat in their ears.

“Who did this to you.” The villain’s words were quiet. Deadly.

The hero choked on a disbelieving laugh. “Like you care,” they wheezed, but even they could hear the doubt in their own voice. When the villain continued to wait for an answer, they added, "One of your lackeys.” Their eyes fluttered as a wave of fatigue overwhelmed them.

The villain snapped their fingers. "Hey, stay with me." They gently removed the hero's limp hand from their side, examining the gash. They swore under their breath.

"That bad, huh," the hero huffed.

“This looks like [other villain]’s work,” the villain muttered. “Destroying your comms, letting you escape with a fatal wound, making you think you’ve gotten away when really,” their eyes slid up to meet the hero’s detached stare, “you’re on the brink of death.”

“How kind of them.”

The villain shook their head. “Why were you even fighting them? They’re superhero’s responsibility. You’re supposed to be going after me.” They paused, gaze darkening. “And only me.”

The hero shrugged minutely. “Agency assignment.” Their muscles clenched as white hot pain rattled through them again, leaving them weaker than ever. “Can you just kill me already? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” They titled their head back against the wall and closed their eyes, feeling their body grow more distant by the second. “Just fucking do it.”

They heard the villain move, and they waited for the knife against their throat or the gun at their temple, but instead, gloved hands slid under their back and legs, lifting them up.

What? The hero shifted weakly, but the villain shushed them and bundled them closer to their chest.

“No questions. I’ve got you,” the villain murmured, holding them tightly as they sprinted down the alley, making sure they didn’t jostle their injury. “You can sleep now. I’ve got you.”

And the hero, somehow feeling safe in their enemy’s arms and too tired to wonder why they were being saved, succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness not a second later.

.

part two

[skipblebee]

Sv au where everything is the same but it's like a reality tv show (the system takes interviews)

[sunderwight]

What if the peak lords concluded that the most likely answer to the mystery of Shen Qingqiu's behavior is not that he's possessed now (because they checked and all the tests came out negative), but that he must have actually been possessed before?

No one thought to check him before, after all. They just figured he was an asshole. But then he suffers a qi deviation, almost dies, but comes back nicer. Only slightly lacking in context for his own past behavior and lifestyle, too.

It fits remarkably well, doesn't it? All this time the real Shen Qingqiu must have been trying to free himself from a demonic spirit that took possession of him in his youth! It was the demon who was the asshole, dragging his poor host to brothels, alienating his sect siblings so that they wouldn't investigate him too closely, abusing his disciples and probably weakening the sect from within as part of some nefarious plot!

But then the real Shen Qingqiu finally managed to beat back the demon himself, even being gracious enough not to point out what happened to his martial siblings and so save the sect's face. What a guy.

[poobirdy]

a bingqiu witches x xianxia fusion, as prompted by cass and fulfilled as part of an ongoing fundraising event at svsss gotcha 4 gaza!

[nocturnalr4ven]

[rhiangalaxy]

@artsarasp 's System Possession AU has got me in a chokehold Orz

[ID: A Scum Villain Comic. Image one depicts System Possessed!Shen Qingqiu looking cheerful with his hands pressed together and saying "We got the torture labyrinth tomorrow". Shang Qinghua is looking at SQQ with a nervous/horrified expression, holding an unraveled scroll and responding "What?". Image two depicts chibi versions of the two, with SQQ reiterating "We gotta get tortured for eternity tomorrow", with a :3 face and gesturing towards a system box that has the words "New Mission" with a cheering kamoji and blue sparkles. SQH responds "Ohhh, Okay" with a tired nervous expression. End ID]

[bigfatbreak]

What does Tom think of Emilie after meeting her?

the only Agreste he's not massively disappointed with is Adrien himself. It's a good thing that's the only one he plans on sparing.

[thirstywaffles]

When your crush finally loves you back

[ID: Scum Villain fanart of Luo Binghe. He's standing with his arms spread slightly at his sides, palms up. He's smirking and his eyes glint red. There's a large caption across his body that says "i am no longer mentally ill". /end ID]

[happypeachsludgeflower]

During the five years Shen Yuan was dead, a glitch in the dormant system occurred. Liu Qingge defeated and killed Luo Binghe to retrieve Shen Qingqiu’s corpse. Because there was never a chance for Luo Binghe to give up besides death.

Liu Qingge gently takes Shen Qingqiu from Huan Hua Palace and returns to Cang Qiong, but as he does he begins to notice the world around him is… weird. He doesn’t know what to call the jittering of colors splicing out of reality, but he knows it’s wrong. He’s uneasy as he makes it home and begins the process of laying his Shixiong to rest, and keeps watching out of the corner of his eye as the disturbance in reality gets worse as time passes.

And then, right as midnight is upon them, the world around him blacks out and he comes to in his regular bed on Qian Cao Peak with Mu Qingfang worriedly scolding him for getting hurt again in his last fight with Luo Binghe. And the longer the conversation goes on, the more déjà vu he experiences as the conversation follows the same pattern it did just that day before. And not in the normal, familiar way. It’s word for word, moment for moment what happened before he went to fight Luo Binghe for the last time.

Liu Qingge gets up and leaves the sect and returns to Huan Hua to find that Luo Binghe is there and waiting for him once more.