#wriitng snippet

[theawkwardwriter2810]

Villain x Hero [All good things come in threes]

The apartment was dark, the lights off and the windows covered with the curtains. 

Hero slowly closed the door behind him, careful to not make a sound. 

He took in the room. The living room was empty, everything where it should be except for the blood trailing to his bedroom from the window. Hero sighed, he knew who was here and he wished that they would have at least used the key he gave them instead of making more work for the hero by using the fire escape. 

Hero grabbed the first aid kit under the kitchen sink and made his way to the bedroom. 

Inside laying on the bed, like the hero expected to find them, was villain. Their eyes closed, barely breathing. Hero calmed himself with the idea that at least the villain was awake enough when they entered to put the plastic tarp he keeps next to the bed over the sheets. 

Hero sat next to the villain and startet patching the scratch on the villain’s stomach, stopping every now and then to check that the villain was still asleep. It was an angry ugly scratch starting from under the villain’s belly button, hero tried to not notice the villain’s abs, up to just under their heart. 

Hero saw the fight from the Tv at the cafe he was working at, unable to leave under threat of losing his job. All he could do was pray and hope the villain stayed safe. Seemingly his prayers weren't answered, but at least he could take care of the villain now.

[celestialbruise]

as an ex-smoker and lover of The Hinterland Doctrine law dictated that I write a lawlight fic for the dnkinktober smoking prompt

[49-ibr]

"Are you afraid of him?"

She cast him a look of bewilderment, tinged with the mocking amusement that never left her face. "Why would I be?"

His brow furrowed. "I don't know."

A moment passed.

Two. Three.

She laughed like a dog's bark. "Are you?"

"Of course not," he snapped.

Her grin grew: teeth like jagged spikes, wishing to tear his flesh. "Why not?" Her words took an a faux-innocent tone.

He glared. "Because he loves me."

"Are you certain of that?"

[purefandomonium]

Unused Snippet from Connection

I came across this while working on the next couple chapters. I forgot all about it, but it's not something I'm going to keep in the story. So I figured I'd post it because it's still a decent "chapter." I think I wrote it kind of early on but ended up scrapping it because it didn't really fit in how I wanted. Anyway.

RED: I don’t think I ever asked, but what’s it look like out there?

RED: Outside, I mean.

Leann hummed. “That’s kind of a tough question. I guess it depends on how much you understand certain concepts.” She inspected the screen, curious as to how Red perceived that virtual world of his. She doubted he fully understood weather, or sunrises and sunsets, or temperature. The bare minimum she hoped he knew was light and nature, otherwise she was at a loss.

“You, uh, know what plants and stuff are, right?”

RED: Of course.

Something about that particular block of text emitted sarcasm.

RED: I know what the sun and moon are, and what animals are too.

“Do you?” She was genuinely surprised. The sun and moon made sense, but Red knowing about real world animals was odd. “I wouldn’t have thought any previous players would have sat you down and told you about the literal birds and bees.”

RED: I don’t know everything, but I do understand they’re essentially like Pokemon but with no special moves.

She could almost hear the ‘whoosh.’ Unable to stop the grin, she said, “Yeah, that’s sorta right. It’s just… Pokemon aren’t the most scientifically accurate example. And making animals fight is hella illegal.”

RED: …That’s strange…

“How so?”

RED: Do people… want animals to fight?

“Er… no, not usually.”

RED: Then why make a game entirely about making fictional creatures attack each other until one of them passes out?

Leann’s brain failed at conjuring an answer. She sat there, gently spiraling into life-questioning territory. The more she thought about it, the more disturbed it sounded. She couldn’t fathom how Red must feel. After all, he spent many years gathering innocent creatures against his will only to be forced to sic them on others until they beat the opposing creature into submission.

RED: Do you think they feel?

Leann was tugged back to the conversation at Red’s chime. Oh boy. It wasn’t hard to see where this was going. “I… I don’t know, Red. Do you think they can? You’re the one in there with them.”

RED: How would they even tell me if they were like me? The only sounds they can make are those blasted “calls.” Even if they were trying to tell me something, I wouldn’t be able to understand it.

RED: …Maybe they think I’m their tormentor. Maybe, to them, I’m this horrible monster who makes them fight for my own enjoyment. All they want is to run free and I’m the one holding them prisoner.

RED: If I can’t understand them, how could they possibly understand me when I tell them I don’t mean it and I’m just as much a prisoner as them?

She could feel rising panic at the words. “…Red, no. That’s not… For what it’s worth, I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

RED: How can you be so sure?

“Because if I know anything, it’s code. And the code for the Pokemon and the code for you are not the same thing. I don’t know what’s so different about you that you became self-aware, but I do know there’s no chance the Pokemon are.” She didn’t know that. She hoped Red wouldn’t call her bluff. “They’re just… How do I explain this?” She needed something believable. Suddenly, “They’re just placeholders. All they are is a stored sprite and a single sound. That’s it. They can have certain moves attached to them and that’s it. They aren’t designed with anything else in mind.

“You, on the other hand, are the player character. Of course you’re more important than the Pokemon. There’s way more code going into you than them. Besides, if they were sentient in any way, don’t you think you’d have noticed something different about them?” She let that sink in and hoped it would calm him down.

The panic she felt hadn’t been her own.

Red said nothing for a long while. He thought back on all the years he’d been trapped in the game, all the time he’d spent lamenting his fate, and not once did a single instance crop up where the Pokemon had done anything different. Even the glitched ones, though chaotic, had a set pattern they tended to follow. None of them ever deviated like he had.

RED: You’re right. All this time, they’ve never changed. They can’t be like me.

He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he was being.

Leann was silent for several moments. “Is there a reason this bugs you so much?” This was the first time he’d ever mentioned the Pokemon to her. On the rare occasion they did come up, it was because she was telling him stuff about the current series or whenever she told him about an animal one of the creature’s designs were heavily based off of.

At best, Red seemed to harbor disinterest about the ones in his game. Seeing him get so upset over them now was bizarre.

Though he kept his true self hidden in the void, he could feel Leann’s gaze on his avatar. He sighed to himself. Sometimes thinking just sucked.

RED: It’s just… I always wondered why it had to be me.

RED: No one else became sentient. No one else sees this world for what it is.

RED: I’m surrounded by mindless drones.

“You sound like you got lonely,” she offered, tone gentle. She couldn’t blame him for getting so worked up. Being in his position would be agony for anyone.

RED: I used to love Pokemon. I didn’t really have a favorite, but I used feel a bond with each and every one I caught.

RED: I took pride in my team. I considered them friends. Before I…

“You hoped that maybe they’d be like you, right? Because they were friends to you before everything changed.”

RED: I tried to save them. I didn’t want them to suffer like me. I didn’t wanna make them fight each other, let alone things they had no hope of beating.

RED: …I know it’s stupid.

RED: Out of everything… I always thought they were the one thing I could choose…

“Oh, Red, I’m so sorry,” Leann said around the lump in her throat. The GameBoy felt heavy in her hands as she rubbed her thumbs along the sides, contemplating what could even be said to remedy Red’s mood.

RED: You don’t have to be sorry, Leann. Like I said: it’s stupid.

RED: Once I saw things for what they were, making them fight felt wrong.

RED: But I couldn’t stop it. And even though I knew they’d always come back after resets, it still hurt to watch them get torn apart by the same forces that tormented me.

She felt guilty for ever playing the game the way it was intended. She couldn’t look at the franchise the same after this. She remembered the whole thing with PETA, and while it was still the most ridiculous argument she’d ever heard of, it did carry a bit more weight to it now.

[eldritch-flower]

alt: The Waking — see here for trigger warnings

Chapter 6 of 9 | [prev / next]

He made Thomas lead the way, unable to quell the fear that coursed through him as the man twisted the bronze door handle and pushed it open.

There was nothing there – no faceless copies. Nothing except a short stretch of red-carpeted hallway, looking a little worse for wear, and a wide open pair of glass-panelled doors that lead onto a stairwell. Above them, a loose-hanging sign lopsidedly guided them towards Floors one to four.

Thomas seemed to notice Orville’s hesitation on crossing the boundary between his room and supposed freedom, and he twisted awkwardly around to grab his hand:

“Okay?” he asked. Orville nodded, swallowed, set his sights forwards once again. And if he heard Thomas’s sigh, and if it tugged a little at those veins the romantics enjoyed calling heart strings, well… that was his business. And no one else’s.

“Okay,” he said, allowing himself to be pulled gently over the threshold. Orville half expected the Others to jump out at him; for Thomas to turn to him with a face blanketed in skin, emotionless and joyless. Orville didn’t know if he could bear seeing Thomas like that, so cold and empty and lacking his chaotic abandonment.

But Thomas – this Thomas, real Thomas, his Thomas – smiled at him as he spoke, lips quirking at the corners into a tight grin, and his eyes shone, and Orville returned it waveringly.

“These stairs were bastards to climb,” the other man said conversationally as they neared those doors. “Why you were kept on the fifth floor of this fucking place is beyond me.”

“Harder to find, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess so too.” And as they descended, Thomas’s eyes never once left Orville. He wore a frown like it was a permanent accessory, wrapping an arm around Orville’s waist as his mangled foot crashed and stumbled down each and every step. “Careful there, big boy. Wouldn’t want you to fall from the tower now, would we?”

Orville hated himself for the way he leaned into Thomas’s touch. “Tower?”

“You know, tower. The one the prince saves the princess from in all the stories? Guarded by a dragon, put there by an evil witch. That shit. It’s for kids I know, but – “

“Sounds scary.”

“Not really, man; it’s just for, like, bed-time stories and stuff. Tell me you know at least one fairytale, Princess.”

“Princess?”

“Answer the question.”

Orville hesitated again: He never used to hesitate. “My parents never read to me.”

And that, that truth? That was sad. But although Thomas’s eyes glowed dimly in the overhead lighting and his lips pursed with contempt as he made to attack the terrible choices of Orville’s terrible parents, he stopped.

Orville worried for a moment that Thomas had looked into his soul and seen that he didn’t deserve the pity. He worried that maybe Thomas had finally realised that he was risking it all for nothing, coming to save him, and that Orville could never be saved, not really, not truly, but –

But he had stopped, not out of anything raving through Orville’s rabid mind but because of something he had seen.

This was his house. He recognised the coffee table, the white, dismal walls painted and undecorated. This was where Orville had passed the loveless hours of his childhood, scared and lone, waiting for parents who didn’t want him to come home – where he dreamt that they’d realise their mistake, forgetting their little boy. In later years, Orville had lay on the couch that now sat before him, separated by space and time, and wished it would all just end. It was tragic, ironic, how sometimes some wishes were answered.

The windows rattled in their panes, shaken to their harmonic core by whatever otherworldly winds were spun by the storm that raged outside. Orville wanted to reach out, draw the curtains and block out the ghastardly scene – maybe drown out the sonorous, nerve-ending wails of anguish and fear; a languid, angry sound that was always close, but never quite nearby.

“Thomas,” he whispered, fear teasing his voice apart like cotton candy. The grip on his hand tightened.

“This- This isn’t real, Orville, don’t…” the other man’s words fell from his mouth like lies. This time, Orville heard a quivering in his voice. “It’s not – it wasn’t like this when I –“

Something crashed against a window with a wet, squirming squelch and Orville let out a moan of dismay, pressing a hand into the side of his head roughly.

“Do you see it?” Orville asked, words little more than a wisp of wind, drowned out by white-sound silence.  He heard Thomas swallow beside him, felt lithe fingers reaching and pressing at his wrist in an attempt to drown out his fear, searching for Orville’s pulse.

It rocketed at the touch.

“I see it.” Uncertain. Scared.

But Orville wasn’t crazy. It was real, he knew it. What they were seeing was –

What were they seeing?

tag list: @anonymousfoz @digital-chance @milatooo

(ask to be added)

[s1gmagirl]

wriitng about my lvoely ocs if u want snippets send me an ask mwah <3

[thepenultimateword]

Fright or Flight

CW: Blood, murder, death,

The air reeked of blood. A thick, metallic haze that hung over every centimeter of the gore splattered room.

Villain hid beneath a long, folding table, fist clenched tightly between his teeth to keep from gagging--or worse, whimpering--and exposing his hiding place. In his free hand, he clutched the bloodied end of his tattered half cape. In the chaos, he'd slipped in one of the pools of gore, a disturbingly warm and sticky experience, though the sopping cloth now left him shivering. From the fear or the cold, he wasn’t sure.

It had happened like that. One moment they were all bustling around HQ figuring out the logistics of Supervillain's newest scheme, the next moment, carnage.

This wasn't how Villain's first day was supposed to go.

"Don't. Don't." Supervillain choked around the hero's strangling grip. Villian peered far enough from his cover to see as she thrust the master criminal halfway out a window.

"And I should let you keep wreaking havoc because?" Her voice ran cold, as chilled as the ice water people claimed ran through her veins.

Superhero. Villain had heard about her. Horror stories for rookies he'd always assumed, but now...just looking at her...he wondered if those stories hadn't been understated.

"B-because I can get you information, keep you in the loop on other villains' schemes." Suddenly Supervillain grasped their pride again and broke into a loud snarl. "I'm an asset!"

Superhero scoffed, dropping one finger off Supervillain's collar to let him flail and sway. "You forget I know you. The moment I let you go, you'll either disappear and cause trouble somewhere else, or you'll scramble for your allies and attack me back tenfold. No. No loose ends. Aren't you the one who taught me that?"

"That wasn't-- Superhero, if you just listen!"

"Sorry, I don't make a habit of conversing with criminals."

And she dropped him.

The scream only lasted a couple seconds. As soon as he passed the top two floors, the wind lifted the shriek away as cleanly and crisply as if it'd never happened.

Villain's insides squeezed in on themselves, and he clutched hard at his gut as he slid further back against the wall. The last thing he needed was a shadow or a shoestring giving him away on Superhero's way out.

Or that had been the plan. Before his wet clothes decided to give a terrible squeak on the tile floor.

Villain froze. clenching either side of his half cape in both hands now and pulling it around him like a shield.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Superhero's red boots, stained darker from the blood, stopped right in front of his hiding spot. Now that Villain looked closer, it wasn't much of a hiding spot with the trail of blood leading right underneath.

Long auburn hair came into view first, the ends gathering together to tickle the floor, then a bloodied temple, and then those heart-stopping blue eyes. Like ice chips that somehow also burned.

Her gaze locked with his, and he flattened himself against the drywall. A fly in a web. A mouse on sticky trap. Prey backed into its hole.

"Who are you?" Superhero said. No real curiosity. Barely a speck of any feeling at all.

Villain swallowed, but that only served to paste the walls of his throat tighter together. "V-Villain..." he barely squeaked.

"Never heard of you."

"I-I'm...new. Today new."

"Unlucky day to start a job."

"Yeah."

Strong fingers seized him by the ankle and the next thing he knew, Superhero had dragged him on his back out into the open. The murderess stood over him, staring as if to peel him apart, and all he could do was stare back and pray the urge to kill didn't strike her.

She toed at his throat. "You're so fresh, I can practically smell the paint drying."

"I've done things!" Villain defended sharply. Idiotically. Why was he saying that? She didn't need to actually see him as a target and tear his head from his body! Just...for some reason the thought of her not taking him seriously was almost just as gut wrenching.

"Oh really? Such as?"

"Th-things. Bad things. I...I was hired by Supervillain."

Superhero raised her brow. "You want out alive, don't you?"

"Um...yes? If that's an option, I would very much like--"

"Then don't tempt me."

Another dry swallow, this time tagged with a sort of choking, dying animal sound. "Ok."

Superhero nodded. "My moral code doesn't allow mercy for a certain caliber of criminal. You seem mostly harmless. So I'll be going now."

Villain could only squeak in response.

Supervillain lifted the teasing-threatening pressure of her boot off his jugular and moved out of view, the light tap of her soles soon fading into nothingness.

For a long time, Villain couldn't move. His heart beat too rapidly and every muscle coiled so tightly that any attempt at getting up shot sharp cramps up his limbs.

In fact, it wasn't until Other Villain and her vultures came scrounging an hour later that he was able to--with some help--sit upright.

"How did you survive?" was the first thing out of Other Villain's mouth.

Villain shrugged. Even if he could get the words to come, he really couldn't say why the hero had chosen to question him out of everyone. Eventually, Other Villain had enough silence and pulled him against the wall to wait while her vultures went through stained shirts and pockets.

"Other Villain?" Villain called eventually, once they moved on to stealing larger items, like furniture and plans.

"Hm?" Other Villain said as she poured the contents of a desk drawer into her backpack.

"How does one get on Superhero's radar?"

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees s @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer mer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolaxe @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[alwaysxlarrie]

happy monday, here’s a snippet

thank you to @cyantific and @greenblueish for tagging me to do a snippet! i haven’t posted one in a few weeks bc i’ve been spending most of these past two weeks on the smut parts (yes, parts) of this chapter but my last snippet was smutty/nsfw, sooo. i didn’t wanna post another nsfw again immediately after. anyway, here’s a snippet finally bc chapter 7 goes up tonight!!!

“The point is, now that Louis is going to start sleeping over regularly, and Harry refuses to allow him to sleep on the couch, Harry needs a bed frame. So he got one. He just needs to set it up. Which is exactly what he’s currectly begging Liam to help him do.

“Liam.” Harry says for the sixth time in twenty minutes.

It’s not that Liam isn’t a good friend or doesn’t care, it’s just that he has “important plans” with Zayn this weekend. And Harry gets it, he really does, but. He also needs Liam to help him, so.

“Liam.” Harry hisses this time, ducking his head to try to catch Liam’s gaze.

“No.”

“C’mon, please?”

“Nope.”

“I will pay you $100.” Harry bargains. It’s a good deal; it was previously $50. Very appealing, he thinks.

“Hmmm,” Liam hums, dragging it out just long enough for Harry to raise his eyebrows hopefully and lean forward, “no.”

“Okay, I hear your point and I respect it, I really do, however—“ 

Harry’s next attempt at bargaining is cut off when he feels hands brush through his curls, and he immediately knows who it is. If there’s anyone who loves his curls and runs their fingers through them as often as possible, it’s Louis.

“Morning, angel. How’s your morning been?” 

“Awful, Liam won’t be a good friend and help me.” Harry whines and turns to face Louis so he can see Harry’s pout.

“Why won’t you help our poor Harold?” Louis turns toward Liam, demanding answers.

Liam whips his head toward them. “Wait what?”

“Harold needs help.” Louis furrows his eyebrows, keeps one hand tangled in Harry’s curls, not letting go, and the placing the other on his hip. “Help my boy.”

“Why can’t you help your boy?!” 

Louis turns to Harry again, with an eyebrow raised this time. “Wait. What do you need help with?”

Harry sighs, surrendering. “Putting my new bed frame up.”

“How am I expected to be the man of the house if I’m not even allowed put up a bed frame?!” Louis throws his arms in the air, exasperated.

Louis is in drama mode, full throttle, it appears. They’re just lucky no one else is in the room.”

if anyone i tag isn’t working on something rn then oops my bad pls ignore me lol @voulezloux @jaerie @lululawrence @ireallysawanangel @momrryrights @maggieisalarrie @londonfoginacup @homosociallyyours @littleroverlouis @larry-hiatus @jacaranda-bloom @faithinwalls369 @restless-rebels @tommokat @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

[pride-with-a-hint-of-prejudice]

Snippet #1

part 2 here.

part 3 here.

"What are you doing?" Villain asked, as the room swum. He tried to make sense of what had happened, but his head felt heavy, and everything seemed too bright.

With a jolt, he remembered. Superhero, marching into his lair, when most of his people had been killed by the explosion of their secret base. Handcuffs and a syringe with blood colored liquid. The vague sense of being put into this bare room, and then darkness.

Villain shook his head, as if to clear all the thoughts. Only then he realized someone had freed his hands. He got up, and make a weak attempt at a threat "I will kill you-" yes I know, you will kill everybody in the most excruciating way possible and hang them in front of the city, but for now, lets focus on preventing you from dying first, okay? a voice said.

Hero.

"hero? why are you freeing me? Looks like you finally been beguiled by my seductive charms" Villain smirked, momentarily forgetting his threats.

Hero rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. Let's just say I have had a change of heart."

"I wonder what would cause such a sudden change of heart that forces you to align with your arch nemesis" Villain said, his curiosity piqued by hero's statement.

"Shut up." hero said, and held out a hand to help villain. He ignored it and got up himself.

"Well, that was an exceedingly bad choice." Villain said, with a devilish smile and thrust his hands at hero.

A second passed. two. three.

Villain, shocked, looked at his hands. "My powers! what have you done?"

Hero laughed "No need to freak out, drama queen. Its just a little drug momentarily blocking your powers. But, if you try that again," Hero spun and as quick as lightning, held a knife to villain's throat.

" you better be ready to say goodbye to both your hands."

Villain grimaced "wait till I get my powers back, you little b-"

"bitch?" Hero asked. "well right now, I'm the bitch saving your life."

(comment if you'd like a part 2)

(message me if you have an idea for the continuation of this)

[theawkwardwriter2810]

I just can't get enough of Hero x Villain

Hero flinched back as villain grabbed for his face, tripping on his heels and falling onto his back. He tried scurrying away, but villain stepped forward onto his cape with his black leather boots.

“I always said that your cape would get you in trouble,” villain growled out as he lunged onto hero, trapping him between his arms. “ But you wouldn't listen, just like how you're not listening now.” 

Villain rolled hero over laying on hero's back, he struggled underneath the villain, but the other man was always stronger than him due to his enhancement. 

“You should have left when I told you too hero, I would have let you go, but instead you spit on my kindness, “ villain grabbed the back of hero's head slamming it forward. “You should have left, now I'm going to punish you and that little kid of yours.” 

Hero grabbed at the ground, finding a rock and slammed it into villain, throwing him off of him. 

“Don't you dare touch my son,” hero growled and leaped for villain, grabbing his shoulders trying to wrestle him down to the ground.” 

“I did the math hero, I know how quickly you went and found another guy after you left me. Did he make you feel as good as i did?” villain growled, stepping away from the hero to catch his breath. 

Hero stopped, gasping at the nonsense villain was spouting. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Don't fuck with me hero, we both know how kids are made, and we both know How quickly you had to hook up after we broke up for him to be that old.” 

Hero kept gaping at the villian, wondering how such a smart man could be so stupid. It made sense in a way. Hero was always confused by the fact that the villain never came to him asking about his son. 

“Villian, I never betrayed you like that.” hero whispered, all flight leaving him after receiving the revelation that villain didn’t even know he had a son. 

“Don’t make me laugh, you ran happily into the arms of the first guy you found, didn’t you?” snarled villain as he stepped forward trying to aggravate the hero into fighting back, but the hero just took another step back. 

“No villain you don’t understand, there wasn’t another guy,” hero stepped up to Villain and he could see realization in the villains eyes. “He’s your son.”

[a-musingmichelle]

Where do my forgotten poems go?

[akawrites000]

hot vs cold

Hero groaned, pulling on that black tie with curled, tense fingers. They've never been a big fan of formal wear, but this particular assignment had called for such a situation. They looked up at the gloomy sky, mind wandering about to how many side jobs heroes actually had to do. People would think being a hero would consist of mostly fighting off villains- and that's true, but villain was the least of their problems right then; in fact, it had almost been a week since they had a face off with villain. When they weren't paying attention, their thoughts would sometimes betray them, making hero think that they almost missed villain. Almost.

Sweat pooled on their brow as they waited under the hot sun, dearly missing the comfort and familiarity of their hero costume. This particular job requirement was that they act as a bodyguard and protect a high profile individual while they attend some sort of a party that hero couldn't be less concerned about. They preferred being the hero and not a bodyguard for someone who they didn't even know.

Just then, a black limousine rolled out and stopped right in front of the hotel they were staying in; a huge man with sunshades got out from the back, waved their hands at hero, signaling them to get in. That must be my ride.

They got into the car without any fight, and took one look at the rear most seat to check if this was in fact their employer or just a fancy way of kidnapping.

"No staring."

"Wha-

Hero didn't have a chance to speak out before they were crushed by the huge man sitting to their left. They couldn't believe it, why did they have to be squished, with no concept of personal space in a limousine?! This was just absurd.

Hero felt another lithe body press to them on their right, that person in turn being squished by another big man to their left. Hero groaned internally, they were just really bad with close contact with people in general, they could never understand why, but it just felt foreign to them. It's like they never knew how to act, and their mind would settle on the default "freak out" option.

Hero was dragged out of their head when they felt themselves being pushed further to the lithe person on their right, because the big guy decided to squirm in his seat. The sweat pooling on their brow slowly slid down their cheekbone, and hero was feeling hot... everywhere. There were too many sensations ramming into them all at once- their tight suit, which felt like it was glued to their body now thanks to their nerves; being pressed to another person; feeling their body heat. Hero had always had a high body temperature so all of this contact was making their head spin.

They just sat there silently, wishing for this agony to just end.

-

Villain was in high spirits, this was a job that paid well, so they enthusiastically got dressed up in a suit that was the dress code for a bodyguard and got into the assigned limousine. They had a mask plus voice changer on for good measure, and nobody questioned that which was good. They were thinking how ironic it was that they accepted this job request, because this was what the heroes did- protecting people, not villains.

So it was an understatement to say that their jaw almost dropped to the floor when they saw hero getting into that same limousine. Villain found themselves gaping at them, their mind betraying them and caring for their nemesis who they met almost every day, in a fight of course.

I can't believe that hero is actually here, so now we have to work together? Do they even know that I'm villain? And they're not even wearing a mask to hide their identity, how irresponsible. Oh, they look good in a suit-

Villain had to stop their mind right there, willing themselves to focus on anything else other than the hero sitting next to them. But these two gorillas on either side of them made that almost impossible as they kept pushing each other closer in this seat that was too small for all of them.

Villain couldn't help but glance over at hero every few minutes, they were being too quiet. The hero they knew was noisy, always running into a fight before thinking, a person that kept jumping around all the time. So seeing them this calm was just... weird.

By now villain was pretty sure that hero didn't recognise them, so they were mentally prepping themselves to talk to them when the gorilla to hero’s left pushed them further into their body. Villain immediately froze. Too close. Hero might as well be practically sitting on them now, villain could feel everything- their breathing, heartbeat, and their body heat, they were practically burning... wait, burning?!

Villain whipped their head towards hero and took in their slumped figure. Their head was downcast so they couldn't really see their face. Hero was practically leaning on them, making no effort to even hold themselves upright and villain was a little worried... okay, a lot more worried than they let on. Hero’s breathing was ragged and villain felt like they had to do something, anything. But hero beat them to it.

"H-hot". Hero breathed out, weakly, pathetically.

Their voice was so low, villain almost didn't hear them.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Hero propped their head up on their shoulder, lips parted as they gasped in some air, bangs stuck to their sweaty forehead and villain shamelessly drank in those visuals, despite their thoughts clashing with one another. Hero’s eyes were shut tight, while villain’s eyes were wide open, staring at them.

"S' so hot, I can't-" they croaked.

That's when villain painfully realised that hero was having some sort of a panic attack and they needed space. Villain haphazardly pushed at the big man to hero’s left, glaring at him so that he doesn't attempt to move any closer. Then they draped a protective arm around hero, activating their powers and felt weirdly proud when hero almost moaned out at the cold sensation.

Villain brought up their other hand to hero’s face comfortably nestled on their shoulder and gently touched their forehead, cheek and neck.

Hero blinked up at them in slight surprise, eyes opening and then closing as they went limp in their arms, all of their tense muscles relaxing and villain just felt so powerful.

Hero finally looked up at them after regaining a bit of their energy, their face a palette of red, when the car screeched to a stop.

The two of them were ushered out of the car and hero wobbled after the 'mysterious masked person who had saved them' . They were pulled upright by the same person when their balance toppled and they almost ended up kissing the floor, with a "be more careful" from them. Hero felt their face heating up, just how many times did they have to be helped today? A behavior totally unbefitting of a hero.

"Um!" Hero called out and the 'masked person' stopped to turn around and look at them.

Hero was already bowing, words sounding like apologies and gratitude steadily spilling out of their lips in a messed up heap, as they bombarded villain’s ears. Villain wanted to understand, they really did, but all they could pick up were hurried sorries, shy thank you's and the word stranger that kept popping up here and there and how hero was so embarrassed by their own behaviour.

Villain simply scoffed, they had seen far more embarrassing sides of the hero and secretly enjoyed them, their nose scrunching up every time hero called them a stranger and villain couldn't stand it anymore.

As fun as this was, it was time to reveal their masked identity-

"But I'm no stranger to you darling." Villain mocked and the 'goldfish expression' on hero’s face was oh so worth it.

Villain turned around with a smug smile as hero caught up with all of that information and was by their side in a second, screeching into their ears.

"Villain?!"

"Yes, that's me."

Hero groaned, Villain's voice dripped with so much amusement that made hero’s heart flare with embarrassment at that moment.

"I'll punch you after this job." Hero hissed.

Villain smiled, "Is that how you thank people? But lucky for you, I'll accept it and punch you back."

Hero rolled their eyes. "Just shut up. Please."

Villain chuckled and hero couldn't get that voice out of their head. While they were distracted, villain took the opportunity to close in next to their ear and spoke in a sinful tone which should be illegal-

"I-im hot~"

Hero simply tripped on air, falling face first to the ground this time. There was no getting that voice out of their head now. They looked up and glared at villain, who made a funny face and walked away.

Hero hid their face in their hands. "Shit. That's unfair, you shitty villain."

Hero felt another large hand tapping their shoulder and looked up to see one of the gorilla men looking down at them, sympathy written all over his face. Hero took the man's outstretched hand and let themselves be pulled up.

"That was cute, didn't know you both knew each other. But my partner and I," he pointed to the other huge man standing next to the limo and grinning at them, "are totally on your side. That was one underhanded move."

Oh, if hero wasn't embarrassed enough a few seconds ago, they definitely were now.

"Wait, what, how did you-

"I have superhearing." , the man simply said as hero gawked at him, and then started wishing for the ground to swallow them up whole.

BONUS: Every time hero overheated during a fight and felt faint, villain would use their powers to cool them down, and hero would lean into that touch like they could never get enough of it. It attacked villain’s heart every time.

So yeah, my brain decided to give you hero x villain squished together in a limo instead of a bed? New trope? xD

Thank you so much for 260 followers, you all are so precious 🥺❤

[fablesoffantasy]

Finally working on Two Worlds again and the first thing I do is have Sarah spit facts 😂

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, "you knew the consequences well before you made the wish."

"I was a child!" Sarah closed the distance between them with a single step, "I didn't know anything Jareth!"

"Good night Sarah," he turned away from her. Shutting down the conversation before it could fester any more than it already had.

Except the Labyrinth's champion still had her youthful stubbornness. Raven strands swayed as she blocked his path, arms stiff and straight at her sides, and both hands balled into fists. 

"You don't get to just up and run because you don't like the truth," she hissed.

[alphinias]

🌹

“You’re cheating,” JJ accused, but there was a glint in his eye, like he’d rather like to be in on it. She felt like she could read him better than ever before. Whether she’d gotten that much better at it or he was just letting her remained to be seen. 

-monkshood and wolfsbane

[quilloftheclouds]

Kinda Sorta NaNoWriMo Day 16 &17

For the month of November, I’m not officially participating in NaNoWriMo, but I’m going to attempt to write daily to continue the first draft of One Siren’s Soul, no matter how small the word count. My aim is to write at least 400 words a day!

Word count today: ( 153/400 ) and ( 1,358/400 )

Snippet from today’s writing:

Her desk was as tidy as it always had been, quills and inkwells lined up based on colour and size. Paperweights and parchment adjusted to a perfectly precise angle, stacks instead of piles. A few books stood slotted into a shelf nearby, spines aligned to the edge, the chain keeping them in place hooked taut across them. But my gaze stopped at and stuck to the folder open across the table’s surface.

Files were spread haphazardly from it. The arrangement clashed with everything else in the room, though I recognized the folder as belonging to the captain. But it was all much too neat to be Io’s handwriting—the curls to the cursive were all clear, loops and lining accessories overly fancy but easy to read. It struck me that I’d seen this handwriting before… and I’d seen that same dark green ink too many times to count. I gritted my teeth.

That cloak’s been hidin’ far more than I thought.

Notes: Phoenix discovers something on board the Compass! Hmmmmmm~

Whoa, first day I got below a 400 ack. To be fair, though, that was my travel day and it was a particularly bad day for car sickness, I couldn’t even look at my phone for more than a few moments at a time, let alone write anything. Buuut, still making progress!

Also I heckin’ reached 90k recently what the heck. This first draft is gonna be over 100k, HOW DID IT GET SO LONG???

Read More: ( Intro Post | Page | Link Directory | Nano Week 1 | Nano Week 2 )

So as not to spam people, I’ll be appending my taglist to a weekly compilation post where I’ll link each daily update~

[awyeahitssam]

Derek’s breathing was weird, which was shitty, considering he was a werewolf, but good, considering it meant a shard of glass (probably) hadn’t just pierced through his heart. Maybe, if Stiles could give him a second to recover, he could…

What? Escape and leave Stiles to die? Actually try talking to his uncle and reconcile? Peter had shish kabobed him on his claws not too long ago at the high school, so that didn’t seem too likely…

If Derek died now, it was all down to Stiles’ stupid, insatiable curiosity. He had wanted to know how sane Peter actually was, and how likely he was to hurt Scott. He actions thus far had hinted at intelligence, and that intrigued Stiles.

So he’d led Derek to the hospital, knowing precisely who they would meet there. Because Stiles was clever, but he was also impulsive, and he had wanted - needed - to know if he had to kill the Alpha to defend those he loved, or if he could let Peter have his revenge.

He had dragged Derek into it. He should probably drag the guy out, as well.

Stiles took a breath, closed his eyes, and went for it, hand landing heavily on Peter’s shoulder as Derek crawled away.

“Uh, not to tell you how to live your life or anything, but if you’re looking for some empathy here you probably shouldn’t be throwing your nephew through plexiglass.” Peter turned, burn side first, to look at him over his shoulder. Stiles gulped. Damn, his eyes were blue. And murderous. Very ‘I’ll skin you and your family alive’. “Like, I don’t know how werewolves hash out their issues, but is beating up the sourwolf really necessary? It might, y’know, create some more resentment...”

Though Derek was already carrying a whole bucket full of that around, especially since Peter had killed his own niece, and what the fuck was Stiles even thinking trying to reason with him when Laura couldn’t?

Stiles took a deep breath and dropped his hand slowly. “I’d rather you not kill me, by the way. Or my dad. You’re looking a bit crazy eyed, there.”

Peter made a humming noise, almost, but not quite, amused, and turned to face Stiles fully. He was as handsome in real life as in pictures, the scars not doing much to detract from it, but Stiles was more focused on the way that Peter could choose to gut him at any moment.

“Stiles,” he pronounced slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. “How interesting. You aren’t great at self preservation, are you?”

Intelligence and madness mixed in his eyes. Stiles was so totally fucked.

“I mean, I’d say about as good as you, but it seems like your goal is to bring the arsonists to Beacon Hills for some grand finale thing, so. Uh, yeah. Not great.”

Peter touched Stiles’ shoulder ever so gently, a mimicry of his initial contact, and Stiles inhaled slowly. Exhaled. Started to count his breaths as Peter remained silent, studying him thoughtfully.

Stiles had never been good at keeping quiet.

“Uh, not that this isn’t nice - I love staring into stranger's eyes, it’s a great, make-people-uncomfortable past time - but don’t you have Argent’s to kill or whatever?”

It was probably a mistake, mentioning that. Peter’s grip tightened painfully on his shoulder, a bruise in the making, only to loosen the moment Stiles winced. A lapse or a punishment? Stiles couldn’t tell.

His heart was beating double time, and when he glanced over Peter’s shoulder it was to find that Derek had crawled his way into the other room.

Great. Just Stiles and Psycho Uncle Peter.

A hand grips his chin, lifting it easily. A bead of sweat runs down the back of Stiles’ neck when he felt the prickle of claws. He meets Peter’s eyes as steadily as he can. In the time he’d looked away the entire left side of Peter’s face had healed, and Stiles blinks, momentarily taken aback, because what the actual fuck?

Peter smiles, as if he can hear the question. “Pay attention and you won’t miss so much, sweetheart,” he says, gentle as can be. Cruelty warps his face almost worse than the burns had.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss a second of this,” Stiles babbles, then winces at his own sarcasm. Claws caress his throat. “Holy shit.”

Peter leans closer, nostrils flaring as he holds Stiles gaze. When he exhales his mouth falls open with a puff of hot air Stiles swears he can feel on his own mouth, which means Peter seriously needs to back up. Blue eyes flash red, and Peter looks momentarily surprised by whatever he smells on Stiles.

“Okay, wow, I really should’ve run,” Stiles mutters, despite knowing Peter can hear him - could even if he wasn’t a werewolf, given his proximity.

Peter chuckles darkly, claws tracing down from his throat to his chest, until his palm rests over Stiles’ heart.

“You should calm down,” he purrs. “It sounds like it might just burst from your chest.”

“I wonder why,” Stiles frowns at him. “Is this you playing with your food? Because it’s so not cool.”

“I’m not going to eat you, Stiles,” and oh, look at that, even his grin is psychotic. “I like you.”

Stiles heart pitter-patters against Peter’s hand. As far as Stiles knows, the serial-killer-liking-somebody thing never turns out for the better. And he’s been raised around cops with actual experience with them, so he should know.

“Good to know, I guess,” Stiles mutters. “Can I get some personal space, here?”

Peter huffs out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Space? I rather enjoy you in a vulnerable position.”

Stiles eyes narrow at that, a snarl crossing his all-too-human features. His hand shoots up, gripping around Peter’s wrist. His hold is forceful, not strong enough to pull Peter back but enough to make pushing forward a challenge. Slender fingers dig into a point on his wrist, sending a jolt of pain up Peter’s arm.

Pressure point.

Peter doesn’t back down, but he does growl, low and warning, eyes flashing red.

“Fuck vulnerable.”

When Peter cocks his head, their noses brush. Claws push through Stiles’ shirt, despite the grip he has on Peter’s wrist. “You’re playing with fire, Stiles.”

Strangely enough, Stiles’ heartbeat begins to slow at that. “Actually, you are.”

It would be the perfect moment to do something dramatic, like kick Peter in the groin or headbutt him, but Stiles was under no delusions he could win in a fight against a super-powered werewolf. Or a normal werewolf, come to think of it. He had grown up in a police station, and for all his self-defense and gun training he was smart enough to know when he was bested in a physical fight.

Mental fights, however, were Stiles’ area of expertise. Tearing someone down without having to resort to physical violence was a skill he had always been proud of.

Peter looks momentarily surprised, before a pointed grin took over his face. “Well aren’t you the feisty one.”

Still, wild-eyed and crazed or not, Peter was smart enough to recognize when he was being manipulated.

No way this was ending well.