Of Heroes And Villains: The Ties That Bind An assassin. A fallen hero. An unlikely meeting. The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives.

Kara moaned as Diane rammed into her again and again, relishing the sensation of being filled. Her fingers tightened on the edges of the table, her sensitive nipples grinding against the smooth mahogany with each forceful thrust.

“Harder,” she breathed, and it almost sounding like she was begging. Probably because she was.

Diane, that wicked villainess, slowed down. She rolled her hips with a low moan, and oh yes, the angle of the strap-on was delicious, its thick length pushing against the inner walls of her slick pussy, but it wasn’t what Kara wanted, no, needed.

“Harder, please,” Diane corrected, and Kara could just hear the smirk.

“Please just fuck me, Diane,” she growled through gritted teeth, and thrust her ass in the air, practically impaling herself on the dildo. Kara moaned in relief. Yesyesyes!

“Is that what you want?” Diane’s voice was low. “To be bent over the table and fucked like the naughty girl you are?”

Kara shuddered, moaning deeply. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, please. Like the naughty girl I am.”

The pendant was lying far away, flung carelessly into a corner.


***


Kara nuzzled Diane’s cheek, her lips lovingly tracing the outline of her jaw. They were lying entwined on the living room’s carpet, having not quite made it up to the bedroom.

Diane, in turn, was gently stroking Kara’s short hair. She’d tried growing it out, but had found the way it got into her eyes in battle simply much to annoying. So she was sticking with a stylish pixie cut.

As much as Kara had longed for the girliest shit when it was all still forbidden fruit, nowadays it held much less allure.

But she did love her lingerie. The more elaborate and delicate and dainty, the better.

And there were still moments she needed to be reassured of her femininity.

Diane, without fail, delivered.

“I love you,” Kara said, voice barely audible. Diane responded with something akin to a pleased purr, rubbing her sweat-slicked body against Kara’s.

They lay there in silence for a long while, basking in the afterglow. Kara listened to Diane’s slow, even breaths with a small smile curling at her lips.

“…we should probably check in on Psy.”

Kara had, at first, resented the way they’d had to rearrange their schedules to make sure the brainwashed hero was never without supervision. She and Diane used to have an understanding that worked well for them – Shade patrolled Paragon City at the same time as Diane worked in the hospital, leaving them to spend the remainder of their time together.

Now they only saw each other at night, which had not exactly endeared PsyKick to Kara. She had been happy when Diane had shown an interest in helping him, right up until the point helping him had actually required sacrifice on Kara’s part. She’d agreed to it anyway, of course – his fate had horrified her as much as the rest of the hero community after all, even if she hadn’t particularly liked him.

And maybe, just maybe, she was becoming a bit more personally invested in his well-being, too. Now that she’d discovered he wasn’t quite the judgmental ass she remembered.

“Stephen will be fine,” Diane murmured. “Trusting him to be alone is good for him.”

And then she pressed her lips to Kara’s mouth, silencing any objections Kara might have had.


***


“He’s not in the garage either.”

Kara stepped out of her shadows, movements jerky and agitated. Diane raised her head miserably.

“I told you we can’t take our eyes off him. You didn’t see what devastation he was capable of before he was captured.”

“He was getting better,” Diane said in a small voice.


***


Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palms to her ear. Her fingernails dug into her short hair and the small voice that pointed out that there was something wrong with that drowned in a sea of deafening noise.

A deep, guttural groan of pain escaped her lips, and again she briefly felt that flare of wrong, before it, too, was buried.

The voices were inside her.

“Stop…” Her plea was barely above a whisper. She hated herself for her weakness, but the psychic assault was unbearable.

And a voice rose above the fray, ringing loud and clear as if its owner was shouting in her ear.

Fuckfuckfuck, what have I done?

Caroline cracked open her eyes, the dissonance receding slightly as she became more aware of the world around her. She stared down at her hand clutching the floor. Deep scratches marred the dusty tile where her fingernails had desperately clawed at it.

Her hand looked wrong.

Instead of her skin being the fair porcelain she knew, it was deeply tanned. And not covered in scars. And big. There was grease under her chipped fingernails.

“What…” She slammed her mouth shut.

The word had been spoken in a deep, pleasantly masculine voice.

Somewhere in the small, dimly lit room, something exploded, thrown against the wall by a golden glow.

Nonono, my powers, the voice in her head wailed.

Caroline became aware of a weight on her back. She slowly turned her head – to face herself. Her own face, hidden beneath a mask, staring at her with wide eyes.

“You,” she whispered, and the ground beneath them cracked, a golden glow suffusing the fissures. “What did you do?”

PsyKick – she did not know how she knew that was his name, but she did – just shook his head soundlessly.

“Undo it!” she bellowed, and hated the way her voice boomed.

I just wanted to get inside your head.

“I can’t,” he said, voice squeaky, which only infuriated Caroline more. Her voice was not supposed to sound like that, never like that, never weak.

The voices in her head became a roar and before she quite knew how, he’d been lifted off of her. He desperately clawed at his glowing throat. Her throat. With her hands. Which he stole from her.

She tightened her grip, not even aware of how she was doing it. It was like there was a new sense, an extension of herself she could direct at will. He wheezed, lips moving as if trying to form words. His feet weren’t touching the ground anymore.

Getawaygetawaygetaway

And then he dissolved into light, the small white wisps escaping her ethereal grasp.


***


PsyKick fell from several feet up in the air onto the hard floor with a thump, groaning in pain. He rubbed his aching throat, coughing and rolling over to rest on his forearms.

Deep breaths.

The skin under his fingertips was so soft. There was no stubble.

He slowly raised his head to see where he landed.

His room. In the mansion. He exhaled in relief, only to be gripped by panic. He’d left his body behind! He needed to get back, right now, while it was still there, even if it was inhabited by a villain with unstable psychic powers.

But he didn’t know how to control his new powers either.

PsyKick tried to will himself to teleport, but he had no idea how it worked.

He lay curled up on the floor for a long moment, breathing heavily.

Mistress.

Shade.

They’d know what to do.

He raised his head, his gaze falling on the mirror.

PsyKick slowly reached up and pulled back the hood, and then tugged away the veil.

Long black locks fell around his shoulders, framing a beautiful face. She had high cheekbones and full lips, looking to be in her late twenties at most. But her most stunning feature was her eyes. He hadn’t seen them clearly in the dimly lit interrogation room, but they were an incredibly pale shade of blue, almost like ice.

He’d seen eyes like these before.

Then those eyes focused on shadows gathering behind him. PsyKick whirled around.

Kara stepped out of the dark mist with her brows drawn together. Now that he knew her better, he could actually read the worry on her seemingly stoic face. She’d likely heard his less than dignified entrance. That, or he’d tripped some silent alarm.

Her gaze locked on him and she froze, lips parting.

God, how to explain himself before she decided to attack the heavily armed stranger in her home. PsyKick opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Kara spoke.

“Caroline,” she said, voice breaking. Her pale eyes were shining.

PsyKick grew still when he realized Shade looked like she was on the verge of crying.

And then she tackled him, wrapping strong arms around his slender body in a tight embrace.