gingerly-writing

[gingerly-writing]

Prompt (591)

“The enchantment’s broken,” the villain said, pointing a dagger at the hero’s neck. “There’s no one alive who loves you. You’re not immortal anymore.”

The hero laughed, even as the sharp blade pressed into their skin. “Go ahead, try to kill me. But I think we both now the truth. There’s still someone left who loves me.”

The villain tried to stop their hand from shaking. They failed. “Don’t.”

“As long as you live, I can’t die,” the hero said, sly as a fox. “My dear, you have to decide how much revenge is worth to you. Are you willing to pay the ultimate price?”

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These people and their WEAK stomachs. May I perhaps suggest a little bit of villain whump to stir the pot? If you are taking suggestions at this time that is 😇🙏

P.S. Your writing is so yummy, it shall feed my family through the winter 😌

“Get up.” Blood poured out of their mouth as they spoke, but by now they were more than familiar with the metallic taste on their tongue.

Despite the pain in their chest, despite the broken bones, the villain’s eyes went to the hero. The hero who was lying there, lifeless. No response. No muscle moving, hell the villain didn’t even know if they were still breathing.

The villain’s eyes were wide open. Their heart was waging war on their own chest.

They wanted to scream at that cursed hero.

“Get up,” they said again. Their voice broke. They stared at the hero’s body. “Get up.”

The villain tried to push themselves up, but to their surprise, not only their wrist but also their entire arm was broken. They fell to the ground again, stared at that useless right arm of theirs.

It was hard to focus. Their vision blurred. Pain took over. Their breathing was abnormal. Blood was everywhere and they couldn’t get enough oxygen back into their lungs.

The hero was saving people. They weren’t supposed to bleed to death here. They weren’t supposed to die here, being drugged and beaten.

They weren’t supposed to try fighting back, pushing themselves in front of the villain. They weren’t supposed to leave the villain here alone.

Involuntarily, a devastating sob escaped the villain. They put their entire weight on their other arm which was only slightly doing better than their right side. Their eyes found the hero again and they refused to let them rot there on the ground in their own blood.

The hero had a family. They had friends. They had pets. They were popular, they were liked. Hell, if one of them was to die here, it was supposed to be the villain who had sinned enough for the both of them.

They pushed themselves up anew and managed to crawl towards the hero — that sweet godsend of a human being. That empyrean blessing.

“Get up.” By now, the villain was begging. “Come on, get up. Don’t do this to me.”

They grabbed the hero’s shoulder and rolled them onto their back.

Their hero was unsettlingly pale. Drained of all their brilliance. Blood sticking to everything.

Nose smashed. Ribs broken.

There was a pulse. Not much of it, though.

“Wake up.” The villain leaned over their hero, put their hands on the hero’s cheeks. “You’re fine. We’re fine, you stupid—”

The villain couldn’t put any malice behind their words. They simply cracked.

“You stupid—” They took in a deep breath. “I need you to wake up. You wanted to quit this job, you told me last week was your last mission…I…you—”

The villain swallowed blood and saliva. They shook the hero gently, took the hero’s hand.

“You stupid thing,” the villain whispered. “You’re graduating in two weeks, what the hell are you doing?! You have your entire life ahead of you, why did you do this?!”

Even though their throat burnt, the villain nearly screamed. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t…the hero wasn’t dying, were they? They couldn’t…

The villain took in greedy gulps of air and continued to shake the hero.

“Wake the fuck up or I’ll…or I’ll kick your stupid ass, you dumb…”

What the villain would give right now to see that smile they proclaimed to hate. They imagined what it looked like. That blinding complacent smile.

But there was only this grey version of the hero under them. This joyless version.

The villain barely recognised them anymore, they didn’t recognise their hero.

And there it was. The villain lost it completely. They couldn’t hold back the tears, they couldn’t hold back those shattering sobs.

“I didn’t ask you to— I didn’t want you to—” they said, screamed rather. “Your cat is waiting for you at home.”

The villain shook the hero’s body desperately, but there was no response. Despite their efforts, the hero didn’t wake up. Didn’t squeeze their wrist. Didn’t say a word. Although the villain had ignored their own injuries, the pain quickly caught up to them and they exhausted themselves until they couldn’t hold themselves up anymore.

They eventually laid right next to the hero, one arm around the hero’s torso, their face buried in the crook of the hero’s neck. The villain pulled them close, close enough that they could finally smell the hero instead of the blood.

Their hero. The villain’s.

Spent, the villain closed their eyes.

And that is how the both of them were found.

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“You aren’t Superhero.”

The remark came from behind the hero, resonating within the shadows that the rookie was certain they’d checked just moments ago. The voice sounded amused, almost. Like it was ridiculous to think the person standing in front of them should have been the famous, almighty Superhero. As though the difference between the two was so staggering that it was practically humorous.

Hero turned around at the noise, a few moments slower than they probably should have, eyes widening at the realisation that they truly weren’t alone in the room. The figure before them was dressed in dark colours, not visibly armed but still radiating an aura of intimidation nonetheless. Most notably, however, the figure was entirely unmasked, staring directly at Hero with wide eyes and enjoyment tugging at their lips.

“I’m uh— sorry to say I don’t recognise you, either,” Hero commented, trying to play it cool as though there was ever an ounce of chill in their entire body. Their hands fidgeted slightly, fingers flexing nervously. Whoever this was, they weren’t in the files. That was strange, since the villain before them was completely unmasked, as though their identity meant nothing to them.

“I gathered. Don’t get out much, really. More on the introverted side, I’d say. Though, I can’t say the same about you: you’re the newbie I read about last week, something about a fire, hm?” The villain pointed a finger towards Hero, tilting their head to the side. Hero cursed internally, things weren’t looking good for them here.

This was their first major mission, a chance to get their name out of those boring papers that nobody reads and into the news stations that seemed to praise every other benevolent hero on the streets. Superhero had a habit of taking the rookies out for a fly everytime a mission was too dull for their tastes, and this time it appeared they wanted Hero to join them at their side.

“Listen— Superhero is on their way right now. So don’t try anything, ok? I mean, you were expecting them, right?”

“Aw, pity. Here I was, hoping we’d have a little more time to get acquainted. Hero, wasn’t it? Rhetorical question; I know I’m right.”

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor for— you know, torture and stuff?” Hero questioned meekly, to which the villain laughed. It wasn’t particularly menacing or cruel, not the type of cackle you’d see on a Sunday cartoon. It appeared as though everything about this was genuinely amusing to the villain. An amicable conversation with an old friend. Meanwhile, Hero had to tense all of their muscles in order to stop the trembling.

It wasn’t the sheer sense of power radiating from the villain, they weren’t terrified of evil. It was the uncertainty that shook them deeply. The agency’s success had always been defined not by the endless valour of their heroes, but by their extensive knowledge of the city’s threats. Hero had studied the files for hours on end, noting just how thorough everything was. A complete and comprehensive guide to Villainy, where even the most powerful, evasive villains were exhaustively documented. This one wasn’t.

“You’re just adorable, aren’t you? I think I’ve gotten quite lucky today. I mean, if any other hero had taken this route, I’d probably be stuck talking to some self-righteous idiot. Much less tolerable than you are.”

“What are you—“ Hero started, though was cut off as soon as they noticed that the criminal was walking towards them. They paused in their stride when the two were only standing a couple inches apart. As much as Hero wanted to flee, to create some space between the pair, they gathered that ‘against a wall’ is the last place they’d want to be right now.

A C-Rank villain. They were supposed to be fighting a C-Rank. Mild fire powers, flamboyant, much more bark than bite, though still good for publicity (according to Superhero). Despite how weak Hero’s powers were compared to the other supers, even they could take down a C-Rank. This villain was no such thing. Hero felt their blood run colder by the minute as the criminal looked them up and down, investigating now that they were close enough to see every nook and cranny of their persona.

“I’ll be honest,” the villain grinned as they spoke, hands gripping their new friend’s shoulders. “I’ve never actually spoken with a hero before. Never been one to see the value in the showmanship part of villainy. No heroes to foil your schemes if they simply don’t know you exist. Alas, as rudimentary as I find the agency, they have something I need.”

“I’m not telling you anything, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Hero bit back, more than intimidated by just how close the villain was. Upon further inspection, Hero confirmed their worries: the criminal was unarmed. That was unnerving. What kind of villain goes to confront a hero without any tools?

"Sweetheart, I'm not here to interrogate you. I just want to make a deal, one that'll benefit the both of us." As they spoke, the villain's hands started to inch closer to the hero's neck, although their grip wasn't particularly tight. The type of hold that would have felt soft if not for the hands tracing the hero's collarbone leaving behind a lingering threat. The criminal ventured onwards.

"Your little agency has a lot of data, no? A complete documentation of all the criminals of the world. But, all that information is practically public. Accessible to any trainee, any visitor, any eager reporter wandering around the building. It would be a horrible decision for them to document some of the more gritty, immoral details, and thus the comprehensive guide becomes not-so-complete. Tell me, Hero, where is it that you get all the information for your missions?"

"So what some information is missing from the database. If it was important to a mission, they'd tell me."

"Sure they would."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I've read everything there is to read about you, Hero. And, if my intuition is correct – which it will be, you'll rise through the ranks quite quickly with that potential of yours. They'll start assigning you to much more deadly villains and, well, I'm sure you've realised by now that the dangerous ones are the ones off the books. No information for them, what a tragedy."

Villain's eyes glinted slightly, words carefully planned. They were cunning, Hero thought to themself. The dictionary definition of the mastermind archetype. Although, they seemed a lot more defined and well-trained than the typical evil genius.

"Is that your end of the deal, then? Giving me information in exchange for something else?" Hero questioned, desperately trying to follow along. If this villain thought they'd picked the wrong hero to confide in, they'd likely get rid of them and search for a much more competent one.

"I'm not asking for much. Just that you'll keep the door open for me when I come knocking. My contacts list is extensive, a web of the most skilled professionals and bastards out there. But, unfortunately, no heroes. I'm looking to remedy that. It's a simple enough request, isn't it? Just think of it as friendship blossoming between us, if that helps you sleep at night."

Hero gulped, legs feeling unsteady. As much as their moral compass wanted to scream and kick, they really didn’t have an option here. It wasn’t just the villain that was leagues stronger than Hero, it was everyone. Their powers were more of a nuisance than anything, and all of their skillset relied on their strategic planning. If they lacked information, they’d be hopeless in a fight.

Deep down, Hero wasn’t even certain that the threats were the main incentive here. Sure, death was still a terrifying concept to them, they were a rookie. They couldn’t deny that for a second. But, if they refused this offer, it wouldn’t just be them dying. If a dangerous criminal got loose, and nobody knew how to stop them, how many civilians would die? At just the concept of it, guilt rushed straight to their chest.

“And what kind of favours do you tend to ask your contacts for?” Hero asked, uncertain.

“Like I said, you won’t need to get your hands dirty, Hero. I’m not a violent person. Far less bloodthirsty than most of my associates. I’ll be asking no more of you than your coworkers would. Information, security, a place to go when clients get a little roudy. Of course, all these same privileges would belong to you, too.” The villain promised, never once breaking eye contact with the hero.

Confidently, the criminal reached out their hand, waiting for Hero to shake it. A promise, one Hero knew they could never go back on. One that could save lives, albeit at the profit of perhaps the most deadly enemy there could be.

I'm sure you've realised by now that the dangerous ones are the ones off the books.

Trembling only slightly, Hero’s hand met the villain’s in a firm handshake. The latter’s expression shifted to something much more prideful, indicative of a job well done. They’d managed to convince a hero to make a deal with the devil, after all, no blackmail required. Hero didn’t let their glee deter them. This was the right decision to make; they’d spend so many nights sleeplessly scanning through documents because they knew that information was their one shot at heroism. At the promise of more, or more accurately: the threat of missing some, the hero was certain that the good of this deal outweighed the bad.

A commotion began to kick up outside, though the villain didn’t seem to react. Superhero was here, alongside that C-Rank who seemed much more insignificant now. Nowhere near as interesting. The villain gave one final smile before turning on their heels and headed straight to the door. Before they left, they swivelled their head back to look at Hero, who stood idly in the centre of the room.

“I’ll be in touch soon to set up the all the arrangements. Nothing too complicated, don’t worry. Oh, and of course, try not to tell your supervisors about our little chat.” Hero could only nod silently in response, a thousand sensations storming their mind at once. Their fists continued their incessant routine of tightening and relaxing as their nerves grew.

Heavy footsteps pounded from the top floor of the building. Superhero on the lookout for their newest trainee, oblivious to the scene that unfolded moments before their arrival. The criminal laughed softly, the type of laugh that sounded more like an exhale than anything. Then, moments before Superhero walked through the doorway, they left after making one final comment.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Hero.”

[gingerly-writing]

spending a week with six of the weirdest people i know is so good for the soul yall, my humors are balanced, my gut flora is thriving, i was in full gremlin mode the entire time, it’s fantastic

[gingerly-writing]

time for the rentalcar cover reveal!

artwork is by the extremely talented @antiquedeuce who did a phenomenal job, I couldn't be happier with the results :3

I'm very excited to share this silly little ginormous book with you all soon! in the meantime there's my website and mailing list so you can stay up to date with what's happening re: renting cars <3

tag list under cut!

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @writingsfromspace @carnivalls @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat @davycoquette @trenchcrows

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I’ve been wanting a fish for a while so I drew a few!!!

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I can understand how "modern person thrown into the past gets by pretending to be a healer/doctor" is as surprisingly common of a trope as it is. I mean I'm fluent enough at bullshitting to be pretty sure I could pull it off to impersonate a doctor in any time pre-1800s. If I have no idea what something is or how to treat it, I could just get the opinion of the other whatever-passes-as-medical-professionals around, but if their suggestions sound like bullshit I'm not doing it. And I'll beat the shit out of anyone suggesting bloodletting or mercury. With my healing stick. I've tied little bells on it, that jingle comically with every smack.

The awesome curative powers of my healing stick come from two separate sources: Placebo, and me using it to beat anyone trying to give my patients mercury.

[gingerly-writing]

Writing Prompt #3015

"Won't you give up?"

"The only thing I hate more than myself is you. You'll have to kill me before you get rid of me."

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Hey come read my book!

Wattpad | RoyalRoad | Tapas

Sidra's sister has been kidnapped, taken right in front of her eyes by the earth itself. Convinced that she's somewhere out there, Sidra knows that the only way to find her is to travel beyond the iron wall and into the dangerous north - the land of the wicked fae, where no human lives beyond the first night. Wielding little but an axe and her brutal temper, Sidra has to survive encounters with deadly kelpies, bloodthirsty pixies, and trolls hungry for human flesh. But dealing with the prideful and vindictive high fae without falling prey to their ruthless politics will prove a greater challenge. To navigate their machinations without losing her life, Sidra needs help from one of their own. Enter Valerien, a stunning but unpleasant fae who binds Sidra with an oath in exchange for his aid. But what this promise entails, and why he's forced to live isolated in a crumbling manor, remains a mystery. Only one thing is clear: Sidra and Valerien cannot stand each other. As they struggle to reconcile their differences - and similarities - their animosity threatens to tear the alliance apart, and doom her sister to a life of slavery in a court of beautiful vultures.

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I love the random replacements for clichés writers insert in science fiction shows. like when a 21st-century human would say "stop pacing you'll wear a hole in the floor" but in a space show the alien/future human says "you're oscillating like a Betelgeusian night badger" or some shit. like fuck yeah he is. amazing drive-by worldbuilding. I'm gonna spend the next half hour wondering why the Betelgeusian night badger evolved to do that

[gingerly-writing]

PSA: Writing a book can take a looooong time. If you've been working on your project for a year, two years, five years... you're not doing anything wrong. If you've written three drafts and thrown them all away, if you can only write a hundred words a day, if you put your book down for six months and pick it up again only to be baffled by what you've written... Congratulations. You're not inefficient or slow. You're just a writer. Welcome to the writing life.

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Prompt #3550

"Us kissing would not be a disaster."

"It absolutely would! We oppose each other on every professional front, and worse than that, we don't even like each other!"

"I don't like you? Huh. That's the first I've heard of it. I've always found you quite remarkable."

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Prompt #3549

“Just because I punch Villain’s teeth in on a regular basis doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

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Prompt #3548

"You do realise that if I take you in, I'm making an enemy out of Supervillain? Most people don't survive making an enemy out of Supervillain."

Down on his knees, the henchman shuddered. "I know," he said weakly. "I just thought..." That all the flirting might mean something. That Villain might take a risk on him. But why would they? He was only a henchman.

"Well, you thought right." Villain grinned down at them, extending a hand to help them up. "It's about time someone around here stood up to Supervillain, and I can't think of a better reason than defending you."

[gingerly-writing]

Prompt #3547

“Safe? How can you possibly feel safe when you’re- when you’re- you’re going to-”

“Because I’m in your arms,” they whispered back, blood leaking from the corner of their mouth. “Safest place in the world.”