#secret santa snippet

[deckofaces]

Choose: Love or Heartbreak

(A Secret Santa Snippet)

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Once again this year I chose to participate in Secret Santa snippet exchange! This year I coincidentally got my girlfriend @justalittletoocorrupted! I really hope you like it <333

Prompt: Villain x Hero (who is a sidekick to superhero!) and Superhero finds out Hero was dating Villain (or just fell in love with them) and kidnaps them to try and help them understand that's a bad thing and the Villain could save them!

(I ended up doing more villain x civilian (I checked if it would be okay))

Note! As we are really close I decided to use ocs, this is an au where Dystopia from Dystopian Reflections is a civilian, via the name Cain. Vortex/Blank-Slate is @justalittletoocorrupted’s oc and it uses it/its and he/him pronouns

Tw: kidnapping, arguing, mentions of violence, swearing

“Cain Harlow.”

Cain’s head was foggy. He blinked a couple times, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He glanced down at his hands, silvery looking threads were slowly unwrapping from his wrists and making their way back to their creator. His eyes followed and they made their way back to a woman, a superhero more specifically. 

Looking around, the room almost appeared to be an interrogation room. He was not cuffed, but he sat in a closed room at a table across from the hero. 

Nothing was making sense, he last remembered being at the grocery store! He was just shopping! His boyfriend and him were going to have a nice dinner that night and he went to get a few things they would need.. he has no memory of leaving there and ending up with this superhero in front of him!

“…Who are you?”

“The media refers to me as the Porcelain Woman,” the superhero replied simply. 

That makes sense he supposed until suddenly the name clicked in his head and Cain realized exactly who she was. And the alias quickly seemed obvious too. Looking at her, she didn’t look like a normal person, well, because she wasn’t. Her body appeared very doll-like with long, curly black hair and perfect makeup. All exemplified by the apparent cracks across her face, just like what can happen to porcelain.

However, even though she looked like a doll, she wasn’t one. He’s heard his fair share of news stories criticizing her for being a hero. And that is the result of many considering her less than human. She is a powerful spirit inhabiting the life size doll. But the spirit, or a “Reflector,” is a reflection of a real life person, given their name. They are typically chaotic entities. …Not heroes. But he shouldn’t make assumptions about their character..

…But it explains how he got there. From what he’s heard, she has some form of mind control ability in the form of a literal puppet on strings. The doll shell she uses is apparently quite fitting. His face morphed into disgust at the thought of how he got there. 

Cain took a deep breath. “Why am I here?”

She stared at him for a few seconds before answering. Her fake, glassy, and yellow eyes were a bit unnerving. “You should know why you are here, do you not?”

Ah.

He could only be there for one reason, and if a superhero of all people is involved, he definitely knew. But he also wasn’t foolish enough to give himself away without her stating why he’s there first. “I’m afraid I do not understand why I am here. Considering I was taken out of a grocery store, pardon my confusion on the matter.”

The Porcelain Woman drummed her fingers on the table. “It was necessary at the time, it was for your safety,” she stated, brushing off his comment. “You’re here, Mr. Harlow, because of your boyfriend. Are you aware that your partner goes by the alias of Blank-Slate?”

There it is. 

“I do not see why that matters,” Cain answered, trying his hardest to keep his face schooled into a neutral expression.

She stared again, almost as if in surprise. “Your boyfriend has hurt and killed many people, have you no remorse for them, their families, or future victims? It is not a good thing for you to be dating it. Does it not hurt knowing its career and choices?” 

He let out a sigh. He knows what Vortex does is wrong, horrible even, but it has never made him feel unsafe.. rather it has made him feel so loved and cared for. Maybe it’s selfish that that is all he cared to think about in this situation but he didn’t care. And it likely makes him a horrible person too, but if it ever asked him to join it in what it does, he’s sure he’d say yes in a heartbeat..

“Blank-Slate treats me with much more love and care than anyone else ever has. What it does may not be considered right, but it has never subjected me to its lifestyle, rather it does its best to protect me from it,” Cain replied calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The Porcelain Woman scoffed at his comment. “Do you really believe it loves you? It is a villain, Mr. Harlow, one that seeks to draw any sort of horrible reaction it can get out of someone. That means it will eventually revel in the heartbreak it will inevitably cause you.”

Cain shook his head. “You do not understand the nature of our relationship. You believe that to be true when in reality I am an exception to that idea.”

“No, you are failing to understand. I want to help you, this agency wants to help you. Being in that relationship is only going to bring you a lot of pain. We want to help you and stop that from happening. Loving Blank-Slate will hurt you. It is not someone you should love.” Her tone held a bit of concern, but for him it was difficult to distinguish if it was genuine or fake. 

Despite that, this situation was ridiculous, he wanted to go home! He spun a ring on his finger that Vortex gave him to try and calm himself and his anxieties. He hoped to get out of there soon, or maybe Vortex already realized he hadn't come home when he said he would…

Cain supposed he could understand some of her points, he knew it enjoys getting a reaction out of people, but that’s not how it is in regards to him. The amount of times it has seen him vulnerable and treated him with so much love and compassion and respect.. The amount of times he’s seen it so vulnerable.. if it wanted to hurt him, it would have done so many months ago. He’s never loved anyone quite like Vortex and this superhero will not sway him from that. 

“I get what you are trying to convey, but I do not want help from you or your agency. Rather, I wish you would have let me just go about my day,” he said more firmly. He was tired of being there now. He hasn’t been there very long, but being in that room quickly aggravated him. Everything just was wrong about this. 

“Mr. Harlow,” the superhero interjected, “your safety is at risk here! I am merely trying to offer you a way out of your situation but you are only showing me disrespect for my efforts!”

Cain gritted his teeth before raising his voice. Not only was this aggravating, but he was also talking to a wall. How lovely. “That is because you fail to show me respect! I do not want your efforts!! Let me spell it out, I. Do. Not. Want. Your. Help.” He sucked in a breath before trying to continue, his voice returning to a normal volume. “I’ll get ‘hurt’ in your words for all I damn care. It is not your responsibility to look after me.”

“I understand that it’s not my responsibility, but I don’t want you to be added to its list of victims! Blank-Slate-“

“Blank-Slate,” Cain snapped, “Is the love of my life whether you like it or not. Quite frankly, it has treated me far better than you have, and I have only known you for less than a day.”

“You don’t make it easy to get into contact with you,” The Porcelain Woman sneered. “Your career as a doctor makes you busy and most other times you are spotted with the villain. Bringing you here today in the way I had may have been unethical, but I had no choice. You were free and it was the only opportunity I had to get you here. If you would hear me out, you would understand it was for the better!”

“Oh so you and your band of heroes have been keeping tabs on me? You can’t, you know, send me an email or message that your heroes need to talk to me? You resorted to kidnapping me?” Cain threw his hands up in exasperation. “I’m going to repeat myself one more time, leave me alone. I am happy with my boyfriend. I do not care about your concerns about my supposed safety.”

“That was only a result of trying to keep tabs on Blank-Slate, which is actually incredibly difficult to do. We only very recently discovered you are its partner,” she retorted.

Cain has had enough of all of this. There seemed to be no convincing this woman that he feels safe and loved in his relationship. And really it should be none of her business at all! She’s entirely convinced that Vortex will just suddenly start hurting him one day just because it can. They’ve been dating for quite awhile and it hasn’t done so. 

And what’s more, he’s been able to see a side of Vortex that it doesn’t show anyone else. To others it very easily can seem cruel! But to him it has only ever been caring and affectionate and so so loving. But even when he has accidentally caught it doing its villain work, he can’t help but be a bit fascinated by it. And strangely enough, after seeing what it does and seeing it hasn’t done anything to him, it only has made him feel more safe and secure in their relationship.

Cain stood up from his chair. “I appreciate you trying to ‘warn me’ about my boyfriend, but I really do not need your assistance and I would like to get going home.” 

“Please sit, we are not done talking, Mr. Harlow. Going back to your boyfriend would be a bad idea,” the hero advised, her glassy eyes watching him stand.

“No, ma’am, I am heading home. Excuse me,” he said while trying to move past her to the door. 

“We aren’t done,” she stated, more harshly this time. Silvery threads shot from her hands towards his legs. He yelled a curse before quickly stumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding them. 

“Are you fucking delusional??” Cain cried out. “I acknowledge why you may be upset with my decision but that is unacceptable! For a hero especially! Contrary to what you think, my love for Blank-Slate will not lead to something completely horrific!”

“I’m not allowed to let you walk out so easily. I apologize that you don’t get it, but Blank-Slate is incredibly dangerous. I need you to stay awhile longer, I wasn’t even close to finishing on this matter.” 

Throughout this whole argument, the woman’s face has been just about completely neutral the entire time minus her tone, and it honestly was becoming infuriating. In the right state of mind he would realize that her being so doll-like didn’t allow for a great range of physical emotion, but in the moment it only ticked him off more. To him it only seemed like she concerned herself with breaking the two apart rather than how he felt. 

“No no! I’m done with this!” Cain argued, “You keep talking about me hearing you out but you have not been listening to me. You kidnapped me to talk to me, then you started preaching about how my boyfriend’s and I’s love is invalid, and then you refuse to let me leave!”

“Mr. Harlow—“

A knock sounded at the door. 

They both fell silent and turned to look at the sound. The Porcelain Woman answered the door, only to find another superhero he’s never seen before on the other side. 

“Mr. Harlow is needed by another hero for questioning, it is required that this continues later,” the stranger at the door said to the superhero.

“Fine, bring him back as soon as they are done.” She shot a glare over to Cain, but stepped out of the way to let him pass.

A wave of relief washed over him to finally get away from her as he stepped past her next to the stranger. He didn’t know where he was going but hopefully it would be better. If it entailed questioning, maybe not.. but here’s to hoping.

The two walked through the corridors of the unfamiliar agency. After a minute or two, the stranger spoke to him. And as soon as he did, it practically made him want to fall into its arms on the spot. 

Ensuring no one was around, the stranger shifted into a different person, returning to the form of his boyfriend. Telepathically it spoke gently to him, “Are you okay baby..? I’m going to get you out of here, just play along and act as if I’m one of the heroes.”

“I’m okay..” Cain mumbled, watching as Vortex shapeshifted back into the hero, “Thank you for finding me.”

It telepathically reassured him that it would always find him. It noticed that he never came home on time and wasn’t answering any of its messages alerting it that something was wrong.

Being fully disguised as a hero, Vortex escorted Cain safely out of the building without alarm. The pair headed home where they could have a relaxing evening like they originally had planned. 

#writing #my writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero #villain #not a prompt #writers #civilian #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #ocs #my ocs #my girlfriend’s oc #superhero #corrupt superhero #(?) #not fully sure but like I could see them being corrupt ish #secret santa #secret santa snippet #secret santa snippet exchange #writing snippet #snippet #villain x civilian snippet #Bro istg it was so weird writing Dystopia with his real name #I always write him with his alias #So writing “Cain” was so like huh #It was odd LOL #I really enjoyed this prompt tho and it had a lot of drama #And I got to write for my girlfriend?? Especially when it was randomized???

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Secret Santa Snippet!

This snippet is a secret Santa gift for @gingerly-writing ! I hope you like it, Ginger! Your request was super fun, I hope I did it justice!

It started out as a normal work relationship. Supervillain would work in the shadows while Hero tried to undermine them from outside. But eventually Supervillain stopped sending villains and henchmen and started showing up to fights themselves. Now, Hero was narrowly dodging balls of electricity while simultaneously sending out their own ice beams.

“You won’t get away with whatever it is you’re planning,” Hero shouted across the warehouse, “I’ll make sure of it!”

Hero sent throwing stars made of ice in Supervillain’s direction, which Supervillain destroyed with carefully aimed electric bolts.

“My dear little Hero,” Supervillain said, seemingly unbothered by Hero’s threat, “whatever do you think I’m planning that’s got you so worked up? Global destruction? The collapse of society as we know it?”

“Well, yes!” Hero said, “what else could you be up to?”

As they were speaking, Supervillain had slowly been closing the distance between them and Hero. Now, Hero had been backed into a wall, with Supervillain mere inches from their face.

“Have you ever considered that I’ve merely been trying to get your attention?” Supervillain asked.

Hero froze.

“W-what?”

“I’ve been watching you for some time, Hero, and I must say, you’re quite the distracting little thing. It started as mere surveillance, making sure you weren’t a threat to my plans. But then… then, all my plans fizzled out as you became the only thing I could think about. I stopped sending my subordinates out to fight you, you’re mine to fight and mine alone. Let’s just say, I’ve become infatuated with you, and I intend to make you mine.”

Hero felt fear twist in the pit of their stomach. Suddenly the threat of global destruction or the collapse of society seemed a lot easier to deal with.

“I’ll give you some time to put your affairs in order,” Supervillain said, “after that, you’ll be coming with me.”

“Excuse me?” Hero blurted, “no- I, I’m not coming with you! I’m not yours to have!”

“One week should be ample time to let things sink in,” Supervillain continued, ignoring Hero’s protests, “until then, little Hero.”

Supervillain put a hand on Hero’s shoulder, letting electricity flow from their body into Hero’s. Hero cried out and fell to the ground. Their eyes fluttered shut. When they came to, Supervillain was gone.

…

One week later

Bolts of lightning shot down from the sky all over the city, catching buildings and trees on fire and causing outages on across the power grid. In the center of it all, a figure stood over another on a rooftop.

“Accept that you’re mine, and all of this stops,” Supervillain said softly.

Hero tried and failed to push themselves off the ground. They crashed back down on the rooftop, tears springing into their eyes.

“I’m not yours,” Hero bit out.

Supervillain chuckled, like a parent patiently trying to explain something obvious to their child. The storm only grew stronger as they summoned another bolt of lightning right toward Hero. Hero screamed as the electricity rippled through them.

“Please, please stop,” Hero whimpered.

Supervillain crouched down to Hero’s level and petted their hair lovingly.

“Only you can make it stop,” Supervillain whispered.

Supervillain shot another weak stream of electricity through Hero’s body. Hero cried out as their body convulsed on the ground.

“Alright!” Hero sobbed, “Alright, I’ll come with you.”

“Good Hero,” Supervillain said.

Supervillain picked Hero up as though they were the most fragile thing in the world, and carried them bridal style off the rooftop and into the city sky. As soon as Hero was in their arms, the lightning across the city ceased to strike.

…

Supervillain landed inside their lair, Hero still in their arms. The ceiling closed over them as their feet touched the ground. They carried Hero down several hallways until they reached a large, modern-looking bedroom. They laid Hero down on the bed.

“Now, little Hero,” Supervillain said, pulling off their gloves, “I hope you realize that I except total and complete surrender from you if you want to keep your city safe. We’re going to have to establish some ground rules.”

“G-ground rules?” Hero asked, still twitching from residual electricity.

“Mhm,” Supervillain said, “for instance: you’re free to roam the grounds at your leisure, but if you want to leave my lair, you’ll have to be accompanied by me.”

“But-”

“The next rule is you are not to use your powers against me, is that clear? I don’t fancy becoming an ice sculpture in my own home.”

Supervillain tucked a strand of hair behind Hero’s ear.

“I think you’ll become accustomed to living here soon enough,” Supervillain said, “in fact, I daresay you’ll enjoy your new way of life. Anything you want, within reason, name it, and its yours. You’ll never have to work a day in your life again. All you have to do is be mine.”

Hero looked out the window at the city outside. Some buildings were partially destroyed from Supervillain’s lightning, and firefighters were still putting out the blazes on the trees. It would only get worse if Hero fought. So, Hero became Supervillain’s, and the city was finally at peace.

Tags: @gingerly-writing @mythixmagic @princessofonwardsworld @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @valiantphantomangel @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived

#hero x villain #hero x supervillain #supervillain x hero #secret santa snippet #heroes and villains #hero x villain community #hero x villain snippet #writing #writeblr #creative writing #whump #superhero whump #hurt/comfort #yandere supervillain #snippet #kidnapping #captivity #begging #surrendering #hero whumpee #supervillain carewhumper #carewhumper #hxvsecretsanta

[thepenultimateword]

Second Secret Santa

There were some extenuating circumstances with one of the secret Santas, so I got this lovely bonus prompt. This is for @lili-loves-whump. I'm so so sorry, it's late. I've been traveling so I've just been writing when I can. I hope you like it!

"Hero x Villain comfort after villain has been hurt or panicked or smth."

Villain could barely breathe. Every time they inhaled, they choked, phantom fingers digging hard into their larynx. No matter how much they rubbed away Supervillain's touch, the murderous pressure lingered.

"Hiding in our hole today, are we?"

Villain gave a little leap, whipping around so fast they knocked their shoulder against the wall. They gasped, clutching it as they squinted at the familiar face in the doorway.

Hero.

How did they manage to make ever word out of their mouth condescending? Did they practice? Drawl sarcasms into the mirror until they hurt their own feelings?

Villain curled tighter against the wall. "Just get out."

"What's up with your voice?"

Great. They'd hoped the squeak wasn’t too noticeable, but apparently there was no hiding it.

"Just a little under the weather," Villain muttered. "So you can go. There's nothing going on today. No plans, no fight. You wasted the trip."

Hero crossed the room in three strides, the back of their large hand smoothly transferring from their side to Villain's forehead.

Villain fell back on their hands. "W-what are you doing?"

"No fever," Hero said. But you are a little flush--" They froze, hard eyes sliding from Villain's face to their throat. "What. Is. That?"

Villain quickly crossed their arms over the bare skin, but Hero snatched their hands away, wrapping a supernaturally strong arm around them to pin both limbs at their sides. Ironically, even while gruff they were more careful than Supervillain. Their hold was firm, but it didn't hurt.

Hero's free hand ghosted the bruises marring Villain's throat. Villain flinched violently, and Hero's hand moved back a couple inches.

"Finger marks," Hero said matter-of-factly. Villain hadn't had a chance to look at the bruises yet--they'd only had time to run and hide--but it must have been obvious. "Who did this?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I'm asking," Hero said, furrowing their brow.

"Ah, and you're a hero? Again, why does it matter? Why do you care?" Their voice rose a little with each word and their throat ached even more.

Hero clenched their jaw. Slowly their arm slid off Villain's waist, and they stepped back. Strangely enough the strength wrapped around them had been almost...in some strange way...comforting. At least, it had lowered their heartbeat a little. They were a little reluctant for the pressure to let up so soon.

"Believe it or not," Hero said. "I'd rather have you behind bars than find you dead in an alley."

"Believe it or not," Villain echoed. "I couldn't care less for your preferences. And I can take care of myself."

"You have handprints on your neck. Obviously you can't."

"It was a disagreement. That's all."

Hero narrowed their eyes. "Anithero...Other Hero...Thief...Supervillain?"

Villain flinched.

"Ah ha!" Hero whipped toward the door, pushing their fluttering cape back over their shoulder.

"No!" Villain's voice grated painfully.

Hero swept out the door, climbing out the window and onto the fire escape.

"Hero, no!" Villain caught the end of Hero's cape just before they leaped over the edge.

Hero turned on them, that stupid arrogant face staring down at them with that usual condescending look. Like they couldn't believe Villain was even wasting their time with an argument.

"Don't. If Supervillain thought I told you... If they thought I was consorting with heroes at all..."

Villain couldn't breathe. They gasped in a couple useless breaths, but their lungs still burned and their vision swayer.

Hero clapped a hand on Villain's shoulders, bending close so their concrete gaze loomed right overhead, cementing them to the spot.

"I don't plan on leaving them alive."

The air rushed in all at once.

Hero unfolded Villain's fingers from their cape and stepped up onto the fire escape railing.

"Why?" Villain said, blinking after them. "We're enemies. Not even the flirty kind. Just plain old beat each other up and hate each other enemies."

"Maybe you just haven't caught on," Hero said.

Villain flushed, and Hero grinned smugly. Though after a moment their expression dropped into something more serious. "I don't know. Even if we're not on good terms...feels wrong to let it happen." They looked away quickly. Almost as if, for once, they were afraid of what Villain might read in their eyes. "I'll be back once its over."

With that Hero took off into the air, disappearing into the glare of the sun.

True to their word, they returned two hours later, splattered in blood and swinging a plastic grocery sack full of vanilla ice cream, cold packs, and ginger tea in their fist.

Their relationship was quite a bit different after that.

#secret santa #secret santa bonus #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writblr #writing snippet #heroes and villains community #secret santa writing #secret santa story #fiction

[definitelynotshouting]

hello gang its been far too long since you received scarian kisses from me

luckily i am here to change that<3 massive shout out to @sculkshrieking for giving me this idea and @shaklyart for the absolutely GORGEOUS animatic that fully sparked this discussion in the first place, seriously please go give it some love guys its incredible. Anyway woe, TJ Shouting smooches be upon ye >:]

"... Don't kiss me," Grian breathes, so low and heady that it fills Scar's head with light, a clean and dizzy wash over everything still lingering between them. Here, in this microscopic space, there are no grains of sand; no loneliness; no secrets; no cruel and counting timer. Only them, and a warmth beginning to boil, rolling in with the same potent energy of a summer thunderstorm.

And it's so, so easy to let Scar's task do the work for him.

So Scar tips forward, closing the space between them once more— catches Grian's lower lip between his teeth, rolling it into his mouth with slow, deliberate motions. Grian's breath audibly hitches; both hands lift to frame Scar's face, tangle in his hair, and the firm tug of fingers gripping him at the roots has Scar gasping into the kiss. He retaliates by releasing Grian's bottom lip, only to shift the angle to catch his cupid's bow, nipping at the sensitive skin— until Grian sucks in another shaky breath, fingers tightening, mouth falling lax against his. Scar soothes away the sharp sting, folding wordless apologies against Grian's mouth in a language beyond words, beyond any buzzing syllable that will never, ever leave his throat again.

Grian pushes in further, a ragged noise punching from his throat; the answering riptide of fervent affection threatens to drown Scar in liquid gold, and he drags Grian as close as he can get him, lips sliding leisurely over his, arms wrapping tight around his waist. Like this, they could be one person. Like this, there is only the aching stretch of their own bleeding hearts, a horizon of broken stitches— and the desperate, clawing urge to sew them back together again. To make them whole.

When they part, it's by less than an inch; Grian breathes in deep, the same air Scar exhales, and his lips brush Scar's with each tentative sway into each other's orbit, scattering electric sparks in their wake.

Grian's voice is, miraculously, even quieter and headier than before. "Don't—" His voice catches, cracking the word in half. "Don't kiss me." He leans forward, brushing his own featherlight kiss against Scar's lips. Back. "Don't kiss me." Swaying forth again, another kiss; this one just as a soft, just as syrupy. When Grian pulls back once more, his eyes are lidded. Then, pretenses stripped as clean from his voice as sun-bleached bone, he begs— he breathes: "Scar, please— just kiss me."

And Scar— bathed in the gilded sunset of their kiss-bruised memories, with his heart a hummingbird thrum in his throat— throws his task to the wind, and obligingly falls back in.

#scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #secret life #traffic series #trafficblr #trafficshipping #kissing #kisses #mcyt #slsmp #shouting speaks #my snippets #fellas is it gay--💥💥💥💥💥 #yes. yes it is #[guy who should be working on his secret santa voice] if i dont write scarian kisses rigjt fjckgin noww im going 2 DIE #txt

[watercolorfreckles]

The Pretty Prince of Avenglow

This is a secret santa snippet for @thepenultimateword ! Thank you for arranging this fun event for everyone, and for entrusting me with your prompt. I've been in a long writing rut, so this was really tough for me to finish on deadline. But I did it! I know this is far from the best thing I've ever written, but it is something! Hope you like it!

Her prompt was: "Fragile pretty boy x strong/buff lady. He is super smitten with her. This can be a hero x villian universe thing, or a prince and a lady knight, or a captured sailor/aristocrat/etc. and a pirate queen, or whatever you want, I just really love this type of relationship dynamic"

“Well, now, you must be the prettiest piece of treasure I’ve found all year.” 

The prince coughed and spluttered, thrashing at the coils of fishing net that entangled his limbs. His clothes, sodden and leaden, seemed to weigh him to the deck.

“Shh, hush now,” the pirate captain before him spoke again, crouching to his level, balanced deftly on her booted heels. “I take excellent care of my belongings.”

The prince stilled, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. He nearly choked again, though all seawater had since been purged from his lungs. 

The stories he’d heard, the wanted portraits pasted on village walls, paled in comparison to the figure leaning over him: Vespertine Crow, captain of the Evening Star.

His insides swirled.

She was a unique kind of beautiful, with long black hair twisted into a braid loosened and tousled by the sea’s salty breath. The contour of her silhouette struck him as statuesque, strong and muscled and gracefully carved. He imagined that she might be as impenetrable as stone, too.

“H-Hi,” he said dumbly.

Vespertine’s lips spread into an amused smile, sharp as the glittering knife twirling between her fingers. She wiggled her free hand in greeting. “Hi, pretty thing. I have to say, I hardly expected my nets to scoop up the Spare Prince, Evrin of Avenglow, soggy and half-drowned in the middle of the Tempest Sea. How serendipitous.”

As he swallowed, the prince's mouth felt abruptly dry. Though he couldn't see past the railing, he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder toward the sunken wreckage of the ship he'd spent days on, cooped up in a damp and creaky cell.

Captain Vespertine followed his gaze, then tilted her head. “Poor thing. Taken and held for ransom, were you?”

The memories flashed behind Evrin’s eyes. It was while he'd been visiting the village to check on his people that he'd been ambushed near the docks, plucked away from the fragile safety of land to be thrown on board the traitors’ ship.

He'd been helpless, no better than a spoiled house cat tossed into the bath.

Evrin managed a nod.

Vespertine made a pitying sound. “Sweet thing. Sinking that vessel was my doing. Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life?”

The knife in her hand moved and the prince jerked back.

Vespertine paused and tutted. “Now Your Highness, I could have nicked you. ‘Can't go risking that pretty face of yours, you should know better.” Her voice was a balm against the aching burn of him. Soothing, though the chill of it still had enough bite to nip at his nerves.

He stilled once more.

Unpicking the tangles of net with the edge of her blade, Vespertine cut him free.

It reminded him of a bird he'd freed once, legs and wings knotted up in fishing line. The mental comparison warmed his cheeks.

“That's better.” She tugged the shed netting over his head, tossing it aside and straightening onto her feet. A calloused hand extended out to him. “Up you get, pretty.”

Evrin hesitated, eyeing her hand. His limbs felt terribly heavy. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand if he tried. “Thank you, for….saving me.” The end of his sentence lifted into something more like a question.

That startled a soft laugh from the captain. Her eyes glittered with mischief, holding a Tempest Sea of their own. “My pleasure, Highness.”

When he didn't take her hand, Vespertine reached down, hands locking under his arms, and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. Wobbling on weary legs, he caught the pirate's sleeve, looking up at her.

His attention snagged on the fact that she was a few inches taller than him, and certainly far stronger. His belly did a stupid swoop.

“What are you going to do with me?” 

“Mm… That is the question. Let's discuss it in my cabin, shall we?” Draping an arm around him, the pirate captain swept him away, leading him down below deck and into her quarters.

Her will was as irresistible as the moon's will over the tides.

Vespertine gave his chest a light shove and the prince buckled back onto her bed. Catching himself on his hands behind him, his fingers curled around the woolen blanket atop it. It scratched lightly at his fingertips.

Evrin put up no fight, dazed. She drew his gaze with the same allure as the sky and the bottomless sea. Beautiful, dangerous, powerful. Graceful in its dance of crest and fall. 

He watched the captain as she rifled through her closet, pulling out a white, long-sleeved shirt with ties to lace the top, as well as a pair of gray trousers. “Here. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you're out of those clothes.”

The prince's cheeks warmed again. “You…want me to wear your clothes?”

“You're a delicate, skinny little thing, I'm sure you'll fit. Besides.” She unsheathed her sword, leveling it with his chest and using it to lift the fabric above his heart where his crest was attached. The prince's breath caught. “I'll need this from you to prove you're alive if I'm to collect the reward.

“Re…Reward?”

Vespertine shrugged. “I assume they prefer ‘reward’ to ‘ransom.’ One comes with a multitude of fewer threats and scandal. Which do you prefer, Highness?” She pressed the blade a fraction harder into his chest.

The prince itched to skitter away but kept still. “Reward is good,” he breathed.

“Good.” 

She wielded her sword like an extension of her being, fluid and quicker than his eyes could track. There was a slash and then his princely crest was in the captain's hand. His eyes darted down to the bare square on his chest, in the spirit of every novel he'd read where the protagonist had been stabbed or harpooned and was too shocked to process the fatality.

His skin was unmarred.

Vespertine threw the clothes at the prince. “Get dressed, unless you're waiting for me to do it for you. I could be persuaded, if you say pretty please.”

Evrin’s cheeks burned at the thought, casting his gaze away from her and down to the clothes in his hands. Awkwardly, he peeled his shirt over his head.

“Smooth, pampered skin.” Vespertine tutted, sheathing her sword and stepping closer to trace a finger over the soft curve of his shoulder. “You've never seen a day of hardship, have you?”

Prince Evrin shivered, shrugging the clean shirt on. Its weight rested warm and gauzy against his skin. Embarrassed, he shucked his trousers off next, replacing them with the clean pair as quickly as he could manage under the pirate captain's stare. 

“Not many, not of the physical variety, anyway,” he answered.

He straightened the clothes which fit surprisingly well, picking at the laces.

When he looked up again, she was grinning, blatantly pleased. “There, now. isn't that better? You look like a proper pirate. Very pretty.”

“Like you? I mean-” the prince squirmed, shifting to stand, then changing his mind. Submissive. “Sorry.”

She laughed again. “Sorry? For thinking I'm pretty? I'm flattered, sweetheart. You're quite lovely yourself. Now. Back to business.”

“...business?”

“Well, if I'm to return you safely, I expect a reward of… proper proportions. There's the money, yes, but I want something more from you.”

“O-Oh?”

Vespertine plopped onto the bed beside him, turning to face him. “Firstly, I want a pardon. A clean slate I can dirty all over again when it suits me.” She winked at him, and his heart fluttered between his ribs. “Secondly. Your brother took something from me. I want it back. You will get it for me.”

Transfixed, Evrin studied her face. “What did he take?”

She leaned closer to him, her gaze sharpening into something a fraction more dangerous. “My child.”

Evrin’s eyes widened. “Your child? Who–” He paused. “Iara? He said that she was an orphan; that he took her in to spare her a life of hardship and inequity.”

“Your brother lied.” Her voice was the crack of a whip; lightning striking water. When the prince startled, she softened only a fraction, looking him up and down. “You are…kinder than your brother, I can tell. Mousy, certainly, but. Sweet.”

“He is better fit to be king,” Evrin whispered. “Bolder and stronger and braver.”

“But crueler. Are you cruel, Prince Evrin?”

It seemed, suddenly, as though he was balancing on a very thin wire. He watched her face, tracking her every underlying thought.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Captain Vespertine smiled, the flash of a victory banner, and sat back. “Good. Tell me, Pretty. Spare Prince of Avenglow. How would you like to be king?”

Merry Christmas!

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @thelazywitchphotographer @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost @tobeornottobeateacher @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuicee , @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymomentum, @fairysprinkles , @vuvulia , @amongtheonedaisy , @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room , @scorpio-smiles , @inkygemuwu , @wolfeyedwitch , @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @ikiiryo , @lem-hhn , @fanastywhump , @smallangryfish , @ladybookworm @freefallingup13 , @acaiaforrest , @a-blue-comedy , @puppyaddict , @talkingsperm , @qualitychaoslover , @deckofaces ,@7eselt , @annablogsposts , @lunatic-moss-studio , @medusas-hairband

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #my writing #pirate x prince #royalty romance #hero x villain #heroes and villains #secret santa 2023 #writers on tumblr #writblr #writerblr #creative writing #pirates #flash fiction #short story #writing snippet

[esperosisdoeswriting]

Christmas Secret Santa!

Heyo, I participated in the Writing discord Secret Santa this year and I got @deckofaces to write for! I hope they enjoy the snippet!

Villain rubbed their eyes with their fist, the words in front of them starting to blur together. Their head was pounding and they had forgotten what it felt like to not be dizzy, but it was fine. Everything was… It was perfectly fine. They just needed to get done with the plan, review some more blueprints, figure out a few more logistics. They were almost done.

They were always almost done.

It was fine.

“You’re not fine,” Other Villain butted in and, oh, great, they were here again.

“Other Villain,” Villain sighed, not even bothering to look over their shoulder at them.

“Could you for once just, take a break?” Other Villain continued as Villain heard steps approaching them from behind.

Villain didn’t have time for a break, “I’m fine, I don’t need a break,” Villain argued back.

“You have time for a break,” Other Villain replied, completely ignoring what Villain had said outloud. “Just delegate for once.”

Villain huffed, “I thought I told you it was rude to reply to people’s thoguhts instead of their words.

Other Villain shrugged, “I wouldn’t have ot if you were even remotely honest with me, let alone yourself.”

“Still rude,” Villain hummed, “as they made anouther note on the blueprints.”

Other Villain placed their hand over Villains, causing them to jump which only made the dizziness worse. They finally dared to look at their former friend.

“I’d like to think we’re still friends,” Other Villain told them, “Unless you’d prefer to be closer.”

“I can’t…” Villain looked away, “You know I can’t associate with you anymore.”

“Because of Super Villain,” Other Villain supplied.

“You knew the consequences of what you were doing,” Villain told them.

Other Villain sighed, “And yet, it had to be done.”

“If Super Villain see you-”

“Yeah yeah I know, I know,” Other Villain waved their hand, “horrible consequences for both of us. Just… Try to take care of yourself. You’re no used to anyone if you work yourself to death, I’d especiallly be sad about it.”

Villain laughed hollowly, “You’re never embarrassed to say stuff like that.”

Other Villain shrugged, “Should I be?”

“Guess not,” Villain’s lips twitched. They admired Other Villain’s honesty, it was something they’d never been able to quite manage despite themself. Maybe that was why Other Villain’s mental prying never did bother them as much as it should have. Other Villain smiled at them, the message having been received loud and clear.

“Take care of yourself,” Other Villain told them before they disappeared into the night.

—--------------

“What did I tell you?” Other Villain sighed having appeared over Villains shoulder and, oh, if they were able to sneak up on Villain that’s… That’s not a good sign. Other Villain had never been especially sneaky.

“I resent that comment,” Other Villain huffed, “I’ll have you know I can be quite stealthy when I want to be.”

“You need to go,” Villain sighed, the words on the page swimming in front of them.

“You need to sleep, or eat, or probably both.”

“I can manage fine,” Villain insisted.

Other Villain scoffed, “Please, you can’t even read what’s on the paper in front of you, do you seriously think you’re going to be able to get anything done like that?”

“I have to try,” Villain insisted.

“YOu have to take a break,” Other Villain countered.

“Super Villain won’t see it that way,” Villain continued as they tried to line up their pen with the lines on the page.

“Super Villain is an asshole and doesn’t deserve you,” Other Villain laid their hand over Villain’s, “Do they even appreciate what you do? Do they even thank you?”

No.

“That’s not important,” Villain tried to release their hand from Other Villain’s grip but their grasp remained firm, or maybe Villain was just too weak to fight it. Probably the latter.

“It is important!” Other Villain bristled, “It’s so important I-!” they gritted their teeth as their grip tightened on Villain’s hand. “They can’t keep doing this, Super Villain can’t keep doing this, they can’t just keep… keep taking shit like this…”

“It’s not…” I’m not that important.

“You are!” Other Villain cut off their thoughts, “you’re so important you’re-! Just-! Damn it!” Other Villain ran a hand through their hair. “Please, just, let me take care of you.”

“I have… I have more work to do,” Villain refused to look at them.

“Let Super Villain clean up their own mess for a change,” Other Villain’s hand gently touched the side of Villain’s face, causing them to gasp, and Other Villain ever so carefully guided Villain’s face up to look at them. “You deserve a break, besides, if Super Villain really is all that great, they should be able to figure things out themselves, right?”

“I…”

“Just say yes,” Other VIllain pleaded, “Just let me take care of you. Let me do this.”

“I…” Villain couldn’t bring themself to agree, couldn’t bring themself to say yes and ask for help, to reach back to the hand that was helping them when they were drowning. Everything screamed at them not to accept, that they were fine, that they could keep going, that they needed the help, that they weren’t fine, that they needed to keep going anyway. The words were stuck in their throat and they couldn’t possibly get them out.

But it was alright, Other Villain had heard them loud and clear.

“Come with me.”

Villain couldn’t find it in themself to refuse.

#not a prompt #writing snippet #secret santa #deckofaces #villain x villain #angst #heroes and villains #villains and heroes

[laffy-taffy-creations]

An Cumhachd A Thig Le Cùram

The Power That Comes With Caring

This is my secret santa gift for @esperosisdoeswriting! Their prompt was Villain and/or monster dad that is quite evil but very much loves and adores his power-less child. Found family highly encouraged. I hope you like it Esper!

WARNINGS: violence, death, cussing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supervillain was shoved in the direction of the cop car. "Alright, ALRIGHT I'm going! Fuck off!" he said while walking in that direction.

How angry he was. These stupid heroes treating him like nothing more than a herd cattle! It was infuriating.

If Child weren't nearby he'd tear out the throats of everyone around him.

He sat down in the back and was closed in there for a bit. Apparently getting him into custody wasn't the first priority.

He heard squabbling. One of the voices sounded like Child. They were probably so scared right now, those heroes taking their parent away from them, no wonder they were resisting.

Eventually the car started moving, the person in the passenger's seat asking Supervillain questions.

"Yes, I kidnapped them." "No, that kid is not someone I kidnapped." "My history of torture does not apply here." "Those heroes? They're dead. Pissed me off too much while I held them hostage, kept asking for food or water." "Her screams were oh so delightful. You should've been there." "Leave the kid out of this."

He had no reason to hide anything he did. Infact he took much pride in all his crimes.

And why wouldn't he? He was Supervillain. He marked everything thoroughly once he realized the cops would never find him.

He was… ticked off about that, to say the least. Child was just a kid. A powerless one at that. If there was ever a group of people that would take advantage of them, exploit them, even abuse them, it would be the police and heroes.

Except now they had. And now they had Child too.

They arrived at the agency. "C'mon, get out. We're putting you in custody."

"No."

"No?" one of the heroes sneered.

"Tell me where my kid is or I'm not getting out of this damn vehicle."

Laughter. Laugher that made the supervillain see red. Laughter that made him almost break the cuffs right then and there.

"Tell me where they are right now or so help me-"

He was cut off by a sniggering hero, "You're infront of a hero agency. Whatever you do, you have an army's worth of heroes to contend with. You ain't gonna do shit."

"Tell me where they are."

A superior walked up to the group. "What's the hold up? I need him in a cell, STAT."

"He won't leave the car unless we tell him where the kid we found in his house is."

You fuckers that's my child.

The superior sighed. "Just tell him, we can't waste anymore time."

One of the heroes rolled their eyes then turned to Supervillain. "Fine. They're being brought to our agency and held in an interrogation room for a while where you can't get to them while we figure out why they were there."

He finally stepped out of the car, satisfied with that. Child would be here too. He was okay with that.

He was led down into the facility, celebratory cheers following him at every turn while the heroes led him on.

Something isn't right.

He could sense it. Deep down. Call it parental instinct. Something was wrong.

He stopped moving. The heroes started shouting at him, pushing, trying to drag him. He tuned them out. Their methods didn't work as his body didn't budge.

Then, he heard it.

His child was screaming.

And so the cuffs broke.

Red, red, everything was red as the screams turned from a child's fear to adults' pain. He lashed out, tearing out their throats, hearts, lungs, whichever of the vital body parts was closest.

The shadows of his power stretching far and wide and terrorizing the whole damn agency.

He would not stop until he found his kid.

Rushing through the halls, leaving marks across every surface his shadows scraped. Like a wild beast searching for its prey.

You fuckers better pray to whatever gods you follow that I'll be quick.

People started fighting back, there was electricity, punches, force fields, weapons. None of it was Child. And so the rage continued.

He hunted, hunted, tracking down the heroes that stole his child, took them from his home.

Clawing his way through the bodies separating him from his kin.

And there they were. Child, crying, backed against a wall while Supervillain crushed the skull of the hero they were cowering from.

His mind cleared, his child was in front of him. And he had just killed.

Out of everything, that was his one rule. No villainy in front of his kid. In front of Child. But now…

He walked forward, wary. Would they even look at him the same? Would there be fear in their eyes?

He knelt down in front of them. "Hey. I'm… sorry you had to see that. I understand if you're-"

"PAPA!" Child suddenly lunged forward and buried their head in his chest, sobbing and shaking like a leaf.

He was stunned, to say the least. "Yeah, it's me." He stroked their hair a little bit.

They cried and cried, finally safe, finally secure. They didn't care that Supervillain had just murdered every hero in the building, they were finally okay because their father was here.

And he wasn't leaving them any time soon.

He wasn't Hero afterall.

#lt speaks #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #creative writing #lt n friends #my writing #writerscommunity #villains and heroes #heros and villains #secret santa #christmas #merry christmas #christmas gift #secret santa snippets

[save-the-villainous-cat]

@mirohtron here you go, darling <3

And thank you so much to @creweemmaeec11 for making Secret Santa possible! Merry Christmas!

“I think someone is poisoning me.” It didn’t even reach the volume of a whisper because quite frankly, the hero wanted to keep this to themselves.

“Oh, you think so?” It made them jump a little. They frowned and looked at the villain who was occupied on their phone. It was sort of a tradition to pause when the fight got too heavy.

The hero felt like a lunatic, like a hypocrite. All of it was a play and the hero was the unillumined player on the stage, unknowing of the script and the outcome.

“No, let me rephrase that,” they said. “I think you are poisoning me.”

With a facility that astonished the hero, their enemy laughed at that. It wasn’t a joke on their part. They were being serious.

But the villain didn’t even bother to look up from their phone.

“I mean it.”

“You think I’m poisoning you?” The villain smirked when they switched off their phone and turned to their enemy. The hero had given them a black eye — purely accidentally — and when their gaze fastened on them, the hero could feel their heart skip a beat.

“For that matter, I do,” they said. Now being confronted like this, they felt uneasy. The villain was unpredictable. They could increase the dose anytime if they felt like it, especially when they knew that the hero knew.

“What makes you think that? What are your symptoms?” the villain asked.

“Stagnant trail of thought. Sweating. Dizziness. Being short of breath.” The hero picked on the skin around their nails impatiently. They were often violent enough to make their fingers bleed.

“Fast heartbeat, sweaty palms?” their enemy asked.

“Sort of.” The hero’s fingers hurt from the fight. On their knuckles was dried blood. They tasted iron.

It had to be a poison. Other explanations were too vague, too pervasive.

“It is pretty brave to address this, then,” the villain said. There was still a slender smile on their face.

“Are you gonna kill me now?” That made the villain laugh again, throwing their head back. When they didn’t get a reaction from the hero despite a blank stare, they leaned over.

“Little hero.” They snatched the hero’s chin, pulling them into their own personal space. “Believe me, you’d be dead if I poisoned you.”

They traced their enemy’s bottom lip carefully, their eyes fixed on the way they parted.

“I would’ve killed you a long time ago if I wanted you dead,” they explained casually. “And it wouldn’t be poison. I would kill you with my hands around your neck.”

The hero’s mind reeled. They felt nauseous. The villain’s fingers were oh so soft. It was intoxicating.

“I don’t understand…” They grasped the villain’s wrists, searching for something close to steadiness but they felt more vertiginous than ever. The air felt thin. Their throat pulsed.

“I’m not poisoning you, darling,” the villain mumbled. They let go of the hero and tilted their head. “I’m almost offended you think that I would.”

“But I only feel like this around you. You’re doing something.” Half a minute or so passed before the villain said anything.

“Maybe you’re right. Some would call it a poison.” That was unsatisfactorily inexpressive. The hero was too stunned to say anything, so the villain spoke again. “Now, come on. We still have to give the cameras a bit of footage.”

#merry Christmas!!! #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #secret santa

[rainy-writes]

Secret Santa

Here's my Secret Santa snippet for @snowshower, from the prompt:

"A reformed who typically is alone for holidays and doesn't normally get invited to stuff gets invited by the hero for a small get together."

I hope you like it! 🙂

Villain sighed, turning off her television and closing her eyes. The constant christmas carols just reminded her of last christmas, and the christmas before, and the one before that. Sitting at home, all alone, doing nothing.

She had ‘retired’ about a year ago, when Hero and their annoying (yet endearing) friends had shown her the error of her ways, blah blah blah. She no longer robbed banks, or held people hostage. Just worked a boring nine to five selling packaged sandwiches at a convenience store. She was just about to get up and grab something to eat, probably a sandwich, when the doorbell rang.

“Hey, it’s me, Hero! Can I come in?”

She sighed, opening the door. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

Hero walked in, still wearing her costume, swishing her cape as she went to sit down and make herself comfortable.

“So... what do you want?” Villain raised an eyebrow.

“Just wanna chat, that’s all.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. But sure, go ahead.”

“Well... some friends and I are having a little get together for Christmas, and we were hoping you’d join us?”

Villain paused. “Me? ...Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“You know what I’ve done, right? Kidnapped you, kidnapped others, stolen jewels-”

“Yes, and you made up for that. You brought the jewels back, publicly apologized, you’ve spent your fair share of time in the agency’s cells.”

“So why not just leave me alone then?!”

“If that’s what you want, then... I suppose there will he more of Other Hero’s famous Christmas cake for me, hmm?”

“...Where is this stupid party.”

Hero smiled, standing back up. “It’s at my place on Christmas day, starting at 1pm. Don’t be late, my dear Villain~”

Villain watched as she walked out of the door, and sighed. Her villainy days were over, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to steal a gingerbread cookie or two...

#hero x villain #enemies to lovers #hero/villain #villain/hero #snippet #secret santa

[kaiwewi]

A Room for Two

Secret Santa gift for @save-the-villainous-cat 🎅💝 I hope this will do your prompt justice!! Bit longer than originally planned, because I got carried away xD

“Get some sleep,” the villain had said.

Like slumber wasn’t some near unattainable, elusive enigma on the best of nights. Like the hero wouldn’t find themself tossing and turning for hours, haunted, even when their sorrows and worries were unfounded.

If they already couldn’t sleep under normal circumstances, how were they supposed to find any rest when they, for once, actually had good reasons to be upset and anxious?

Reasons. Plural.

As if being abducted by Supervillain wasn’t nerve-wracking enough by itself. To add insult to injury, she’d dragged them right off their living room couch, hauled them halfway across the city while offering only the most cryptic of half-explanations for her actions, and then presented them to the villain as a ‘Christmas gift’.

This had to be the most humiliating and terrifying thing that had ever happened to the hero, and all their nemesis had to say to them was to 'get some sleep'.

What were they supposed to do? Let go of their fury and frustration and climb into bed with the villain, pretending the two of them were good friends having a fun sleepover and not enemies sharing a damn prison cell?

Yeah, fat chance.

Besides, the hero hated sleepovers. Sleepovers always ended in darkness and isolation, with the hero lying awake in the early morning hours, forced to listen to their friends’ even breathing ringing through their own sleepless silence like taunts.

But it hardly mattered. They didn’t plan on sticking around anyway.

They stomped through the half-lit room again and tried the door one more time for good measure. Still locked. Of course it was. They muttered a few curses. All right, the window then. Maybe they had missed something. Maybe they could—

“Hero, please.” The villain groaned, face half-buried in a heap of cushions. “Stop pacing round the room like a caged tiger. I’m trying to sleep.”

They were not pacing. Pacing implied aimlessness. They had a purpose. While the villain had plopped down on the stupidly soft-looking, king-sized bed, fluffed their pillows, and turned off their bedside lamp, the hero had been scanning the room, attempting to form an escape plan.

“I’m trying to find a way out,” they hissed. “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, we are trapped. This is a cage.”

“Actually, it’s a suite. Supervillain’s nicest guest-room even.”

“Right. A guest-room with a locked door and barred windows.” The hero scoffed. “What does that make you? Supervillain’s most esteemed guest?”

“It’s a temporary arrangement,” the villain said crossly. “If you must know, Supervillain and I had a disagreement about … work-related issues. I'm only here so I won't get in the way of her plans. Once she’s finalized her current project, she’ll let me go.”

The hero glared into the night beyond the open window and trailed their fingers along the gold-plated ornaments of the, sadly, perfectly solid metal bars. “You’re an idiot,” they said, “if you think a cosy bed, expensive wallpaper, and a fluffy carpet make this any less of a cage.”

“You forgot to mention the flat-screen TV and the gaming console.”

The hero turned their glower on the villain, who sighed.

“Fine,” their nemesis said. “Let it be a cage then. A gilded cage with excellent room service. Which is a million times better than the alternative. So, I’d very much appreciate it if you would kindly behave yourself, be patient, and not get us relocated to the dungeon. Thank you.” The villain rolled their eyes. “Come on. It’s late and I’m tired. If you aren’t going to sleep, can you at least lie down? Please.”

The villain really did sound tired. Despondent almost. It didn’t suit them. Not that the villain’s pitiful state changed anything.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend I’m the one being unreasonable. You don’t get to act like my presence here is such an inconvenience to you after you asked Supervillain to kidnap me.”

“You think I wanted her to—” To their credit, the villain seemed genuinely appalled at the notion. “I’d never—”

“Funny.” They spit the word like a threat and felt somewhat gratified when the villain subtly shuffled a bit closer to the headboard with every step the hero took towards the bed. “Because when I asked Supervillain why she’d taken me, she told me, and I quote, ‘Villain wants company’.”

Their nemesis cringed. They averted their gaze and wrapped the covers protectively around themself in a rare display of … remorse? Fear? Vulnerability?

Yep. Something was definitely off about the villain today.

Curious, the hero sat down on the empty side of the bed after all and leaned back against the pillows. Dammit, the stupid things were even cosier than they looked.

“I’m sorry,” the villain said softly. “When I said I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas, I thought Supervillain would send a henchman to play boardgames with me or – I don’t know – get me a cat? I never thought she’d go and kidnap my favourite frenemy.”

Why did the villain have to sound like they were about to cry?

Great. Now the hero was beginning to feel guilty too.

A bit reluctant, they reached across the empty space between the two of them and awkwardly put their hand on the villain’s shoulder.

Their nemesis sucked in a sharp breath, but otherwise made no protest.

“Villain,” the hero said after a moment of tense silence. “How long have you been here?”

“Five weeks,” the villain replied in too matter-of-fact a tone, “two days, and roughly” – there was a bit of shuffling as they turned to throw a glance at the alarm clock on their bedside table – “seven hours now.”

The hero didn’t know what to say to that. They pulled their hand back.

Neither of them spoke for a minute or two.

“So…” the hero said eventually. “I’m your favourite?”

The villain tsked, though not without humour. “Honestly? I would have preferred the cat.”

More silence.

The hero stared at the ceiling. They were beginning to think the villain might have fallen asleep already, when they felt a soft tug on the sleeve of their t-shirt.

“Hey, Hero?” the villain whispered. “Could you touch me again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Not- Not in a weird way! Just, maybe, a hug? … I really miss my friends and family,” the villain added, as if that was explanation enough. Perhaps it was.

The hero sighed, grumbled incoherently, then sighed again. It wasn’t like they’d get any sleep either way. “Okay,” they said. “But if you do anything funny, I’ll smack you.”

The villain chuckled. The mattress dipped as they scooted over and wrapped their arms around the hero with a tentativeness that, given the two of them were technically enemies, bordered on sacrilege.

“Thank you,” the villain murmured, dozing off right then and there. “I was so lonely.”

The hero couldn’t bring themself to push the villain away after that, even if it meant they’d likely remain in this position until the villain woke up again. They closed their eyes, resigned themself to another long night, and let their thoughts drift into reverie.

When the hero blinked their eyes open again, they were met with the disorienting sight of daylight, ruffled sheets, and their bed-headed nemesis still curled up in their arms.

Wow. They’d slept. – Kidnapped, locked up, and cuddling with their enemy, the hero had finally managed to have a good night's sleep. After weeks of restlessness and insomnia in the safety of their own bedroom. What irony…

They lifted their head to get a better look at the small smile on the villain’s sleeping face.

Maybe the hero would delay their escape attempts, stick around for a few nights. They could really use a vacation. And hadn’t the villain said something about excellent room service?

#Secret Santa #Secret Santa snippets #save-the-villainous-cat #heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #hero/villain #enemies to friends #one bed trope #insomnia #snippet #writing snippet #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #writeblr #writers #writers on Tumblr

[starfall-spirit]

AN: So, what if my patience is fried and I decided to post a couple of days ahead of schedule. Again, Happy Holidays to those who celebrate, but especially to @eat0crow, my giftee for the @acotargiftexchange! I have been plotting this from the moment I was given a name and have been so excited to share this fic with everyone. To those of you who enjoy mythology as much as I do, here's chapter one of my ACOTAR Secret Santa submission, the embellished retelling of Perseus and Andromeda.

Just before we get started, thank you so much @thelovelymadone and @reverie-tales for being amazing betas and soothing my doubts about the fic. Y'all are the best! 💕

Read on Ao3

Ancient Myths Retold Masterlist

Summary: An irksome trip to the Summer Court on matters of business and assistance against a threat at sea takes an interesting turn when Rhys discovers the solution to Nostrus' problem no longer lies with his army, but a female sacrifice, bound at high tide in hope of appeasing the beast terrorizing Nostrus' shores. He certainly never predicted the rescue mission would result in an accepted mating bond.

Chapter I: The Damsel & the Serpent

Rhysand

Rhysand had never felt so close to falling asleep at a meeting, and growing up in his father’s Court of Nightmares, that was saying something. At least there, brutality kept things from being uneventful. But here in the Summer palace, there was nothing to turn his stomach but overseasoned trout and the High Lord’s too-sweet wine. It was times like these he truly dreaded his looming title and birthright.

Suppressing a sigh, he maintained his mask, nodding along and smiling when necessary whilst making the remarks expected to establish he cared about the nonsense Nostrus was set on arranging. Small talk and an offering of reward for the high demand the male was procrastinating. Forces from the strongest army on their continent to subdue the creature butchering his soldiers and citizens. There was no bravery or gall in cooperating with the cruel court from the north. The male was just covering his ass and calling it an alliance.

But then, wasn’t that the truth of most deals?

Still, his desperation was clear, if the setting around him was anything to go by. High quality tapestries hung from each pillar making up the veranda they dined in, Not the typical everyday decor of the court. The dining table was set for something much grander than a business dinner, when one considered the fine linen tablecloth, crystal glasses, and polished silver.

If his father were present, Rhys was certain he’d be so amused by the effort he’d spend the evening toying with his Summer counterpart.

“Rhysand, I suppose I can’t beat around the bush forever. Would you consider—” Nostrus paused in his inquiry, his attention diverted by a member of his inner circle approaching the edge of the veranda. There was a nervous glint in the captain’s eyes as he scurried over to whisper in his High Lord’s ear, his voice almost quiet enough for Rhys to miss the short message delivered. “The Archeron girl has been captured. High tide is less than two hours away.”

Something twisted in Rhys’ gut, his protective instincts rising as he watched the High Lord’s jaw tighten. Apparently they wouldn’t be discussing the looming topic of the aid Nostrus needed so desperately. “Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he swiped his napkin over his mouth before standing. “If you’ll excuse me, Rhysand, perhaps we can finish this discussion in the morning. I have something rather urgent to attend to.”

“Of course, Nostrus. Tomorrow.” The moment the Summer males turned their backs he was past the flimsy mental shield the captain maintained. One glimpse was all it took to explain the tension the message brought. As Nostrus had wined and dined him, his second in command was sending an innocent female to her death. Rhys didn’t recognize her, and he’d been bred to accept any and all brands of cruelty, yet he’d sooner slit his own throat than let them succeed in killing her. 

He winnowed back to the guest room he’d been shown to earlier that day, finding his brother snooping about, as he expected. “Uh oh, I know that face,” Cassian said, smirking. “Who do I get to punch?”

“No one yet. I only know half of what’s happening. First and foremost, this will be a rescue mission. The punching can come later.”

Cassian paused, setting the trinket he was fiddling with back on the dresser. “Rescue? Rescue who, Rhys? What happened at that dinner?”

“A girl they mean to drown at high tide, a little over an hour from now. I need you to create a distraction.”

He grinned wider than ever. “How big a distraction?”

“Big enough to drag a High Lord away from the female he intends to murder this fine evening. And get us home before he can think about retaliating or sending blood rubies for stealing her away.” 

Cassian nodded, and despite the utter glee he found on his brother’s face, he knew he was in the mindset of a general. That ability to flip from fool to soldier so seamlessly was what put him above the others he'd grown up with in Windhaven, and another reason he would be in a position of command when Rhys eventually filled his father's shoes. Cassian tapped the siphons he had put back on his hands, nodding sharply as the dark armor rolled over his body, better to hide his position in the late evening. “You go find your damsel, Rhys. I’ll handle the diversion. Give me twenty minutes.”

He appreciated the fact Cassian hadn’t pushed for more information, or tried to talk him out of this. It was certainly crossing lines, meddling in another court’s business, but he had seen too many innocent people die for those who consider themselves more powerful. He didn’t need any more information than what he gathered in that glimpse behind the captain’s shield. It was enough to know staying out of the equation would damn him more than any meddling would.

He’d grant the female sanctuary, if she wished, and he highly doubted Nostrus was strong or stupid enough to push any harder, water beast be damned. At least, he hoped.

He winnowed to where the waves would reach highest, pausing when he heard the familiar voice of the Summer Lord. "Has running ever done any good?" The female beside him clenched her jaw, holding the High Lord's gaze. A brazen thing, Rhys could already tell. One who didn't apologize for actions she deemed appropriate. She didn't appear to be one to beg, either, even as the cold iron clamped down over her wrists and ankles and the ocean tide lapped at her bare legs. Simple enough for Rhys to unlock with a little magic. "Did you really think you could free yourself of this?" Nostrus pried, trying to get under her skin.

"I think it's pathetic you resort to this, killing innocents rather than face the beast born of your selfishness."

The sea serpent sated by sacrifice, one Summer citizen at a time. Rhys didn't bother denying his curiosity any longer, slipping into the female's mind. Deep down she was terrified, understandably, but above that was simple frustration. Her attempt to best the beast herself had only intrigued the creature, and she'd been deemed the next offering. She had run, to her shame. But when the entirety of her potential was to be fed to a monster or married off to another sort, running had seemed like the best option. Rhys withdrew after that, his attention returning to Nostrus who had ignored the jab, watching the waters begin to rise and churn. "High tide draws near. Any last words, Lady Archeron?" She turned her face from his grasp. "Pity. Here I thought you the most clever of your family. Very well."

"I've got a few for you, Nostrus." The girl snapped her gaze over her shoulder and his breath caught. She was truly the most beautiful female he'd ever laid eyes on, blue eyes shining beneath the moon, her golden-brown hair curling with the sea mist. A soft, blooming pressure began to grow in his chest, building, morphing into a glowing thread of gold. Wide-eyed, lips parted, Rhys knew she had recognized him as well. Imagined the future they were one step from loosing. "Get your hands off of my mate."

~~~~~

Feyre

Mates. It seemed like a rather insignificant detail in a situation where she was chained up as a sacrifice, and yet it was all she could focus on. Lady Luck must truly hate her if this was her fate. Meeting the most stunning man she'd ever laid eyes on—who looked deliciously feral with the need to protect her—and yet she was set to die only moments later. And she thought marrying a High Lord's son was the cruelest challenge she'd face.

Nostrus gave her mate a pleased smile. "She is a citizen of Summer until she meets her betrothed at the altar. With her as such, I still have the authority to demand that she... aid her court when necessary. But I'll tell you what. If you can get those chains open before the hunt begins, I'll let you sweep her off to Night. You would of course be responsible for breaking the news to her parents and fiance, but that's really of no interest to me. Good luck."

Her mate let out a soft growl as Nostrus winnowed away, but quickly refocused himself to assess the aged metal binding her to the rock. "They're warded or charmed or something," she said softly. "I have simple magic, enough to unlock things. If it were that easy to escape, the serpent would never eat." 

"Hey." He gripped her chin, raising her eyes to meet his at last, the peculiar violet of his eyes made all the more beautiful in the dark of night. "Tell me your name."

"Feyre Archeron."

"Feyre." Gods, the way that rolled off his tongue. "Feyre darling, no matter what happens in these waters, you will not die today. I won't allow it." She scoffed. Well, one certainly couldn't deny his hubris. "We'll talk about my hubris when the beast is dead, love."

"How did you—daemati—I knew you couldn't be entirely perfect."

"Feyre darling, you wound me." Before either of them could resume their banter the sea began to churn, an otherworldly shriek piercing the air that had her wishing she could cover her ears. Her mate, still nameless, to her displeasure, raised his weapon just before the sea monster broke the surface, rows of razor-sharp teeth bared as it reared up, catching the scent of its next meal. "It's Rhys, if you must know!"

"Get out of my head!"

He chuckled, winnowing and lunging faster than she could blink, drawing another ear-rupturing cry from the serpent as his sword found a weakspot between a cluster of dark scales. By the Mother, she felt worthless here, not that a bow and arrow would do her much good against a creature like that. Iron seemed much more suitable in this fight. Rhys really was marvelous to watch, his pattern of winnowing and striking had originally been an effort to distract the creature from her vulnerable position, but he had actually started landing solid blows, the churning waters—now level with her breasts—stained pink as the beast's blood was diluted. The rest happened in bits and pieces, yet all at once.

Twin blurs of gray raced over the body of the water serpent and up to it's massive head, summoning another roar, claws sinking into the soft flesh of it's glowing eyes. Wounded and with only its scent and poor hearing, if her research promised anything, the serpent had lost its advantage. 

The spell of her rising hope was broken as slimy, webbed fingers closed around her arms. She screamed at the feeling, drawing Rhys' attention. An unaffordable error, as the tail of the beast whipped across its body, throwing Rhys several yards to the left and under the waves. Gods, if he'd hit his head they'd both drown. A moment later he broke the surface to her relief, his attention torn between Feyre and the recovering creature he meant to fight with his sword, and apparently, shadow magic.

"Our repayment, Lady Feyre," one wraith hissed. "For your kindness at the Tithe." Miraculously, the four cuffs fell open.

"Thank you."

"Our sister's debt is repaid."

"Swim to shore!" Rhys barked. 

"But—"

"You have no weapon and your mind is not clear. I won't be focused either knowing you're in danger. Find my brother, on land. He has Illyrian wings and bears red siphons. He will help you."

Knowing she would only be a hindrance in this state, she obeyed, even as guilt weighed heavier and heavier with each step. She'd just reached shore when the massive tower at the center of the city—their most ancient monument—rained down in a blast of stone and sand, a red wave of killing power the only culprit in sight. 

This Illyrian was a dead man walking. 

She watched, wide-eyed and fearful for him as he took flight, the towns-people still in chaos. Only a moment later he landed beside her, scattering sand in every direction as he smoothed his shoulder-length hair back. "Judging by the fact you look just washed up, I'm guessing you're Feyre. The bastard finally found his mate," he marveled. 

"Go help him." His eyes widened. "You have a weapon. Go help him kill that—" One last crash of the waves revealed the creature sinking beneath the water, presumably dead at last. "He actually killed it."

Seconds later, Rhys winnowed to shore, landing between them. "The city monument?" he blurted. "You realize you will never be welcome here again, don't you?"

The Illyrian smirked. "That's alright. Too warm for my tastes anyways. I much prefer the north."

Rhys shook his head, smirking right back. "Come on. Let's go home."

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

#acotar #feysand #fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand fic #acotar secret santa #acotar gift exchange #gift fic #mythology #retelling #perseus #andromeda #Greek mythology #when i tell you this event has tortured me and my desire to share snippets i am not exaggerating one bit #at the mercy of the stars #atmots #an au that explains why exactly Cassian is banned from entering the Summer Court

[separatist-apologist]

Hey MB! 🔔✨ I hope your weekend is going swimmingly. We are almost at the finish line, but here is a quick snippet to hold you over until then! Can you guess the AU? “Should I call you that, then?” She quirked her head. His noble brow curved in confusion. “Err–call me what?” he replied, still trying to find his way over the path of their stumbling first encounter. “Well, farm boy, of course,” she replied with the sly hint of a smile he’d treasure until his dying breath. “As you wish.”

Oh my god, I love Labyrinth!

#IM KIDDING IM KIDDING #i sent this to ablogofsapphicpanic like oh my GODDDD DID YOU SEE THIS #but of course they didnt because its been sitting in my askbox #i hope you dont mind i waited to post but mondays are good for snippets #maximum exposure for you secret santa #rake in those kudos when you post

[thepenultimateword]

Secret Santa Snippet

This is my secret Santa for @yourheartonfire , I hope that you like it!

Prompt: A swordfight, between a protagonist with fancy formal training and an antagonist who's a back alleys dirty tricks kind of fighter. It can be friendly sparring or deadly combat, but there should definitely be some suppressed romantic feelings there

“Wooow,” the assassin drawled, spinning their blade lazily in their hand. “Nice uniform. Did they also give you that fancy sword?”

The soldier’s knuckles tightened on their weapon’s hilt, making the leather wrappings creak. “Don’t do this.”

It was not what they had imagined saying to the assassin if they ever met them again. No part of this sick situation had ever intruded upon their many daydreams and curious musings. In their minds eye, their friend was always still back at the orphanage, teaching kids the basic steps of combat like the old swordsman had once taught them. Or if not there, somewhere far and free from this land that hated them. Somewhere warm. And safe. They weren't supposed to be the very type of person that the soldier had sworn to fight.

“Why? Because we know each other?” They still spun their shortsword nonchalantly, as if none of this, their personal history or the soldier’s battle prowess, mattered, but even after all these years, the soldier still knew their tell: the tufted end of their tail lashed anxiously at the earth, stirring small puffs of dust around their ankles. “Gotta say, I heard you’d grown up, but I wasn’t expecting time to be quite so generous.”

The soldier’s cheeks flushed involuntarily. They had to fight the urge to hug themselves as the assassin’s golden eyes roved up and down, hungry and sharp-edged, cutting right through the plating and undoing every link in the chainmail beneath, exposing them to the world. 15 years ago they might have welcomed it. They still would have blushed, and the assassin would have teased their shyness, but they also would have gently guided them through it. A relationship at their own pace, soft and slow as leaves in a late summer creek.

They did not feel that same safety now.

The soldier raised their sword higher. “This is you’re last chance to walk away. One more step and I will consider you a threat to the crown.”

The assassin raised their brows. They stepped forward. “You probably should have considered that a long time ago.”

They lunged.

The solider barely braced themselves in time, catching the assassin’s wicked blade along the edge of their own before it gashed open their face. It was a bold move, if the soldier was a little slower it would have gotten them, but the footing wasn’t firm enough to hold against their strength.

“Sloppy.” They shoved forward, pressing all their weight all at once against the assassin’s weapon.

The assassin stumbled.

The soldier’s sword slid up and free with a light shink.

“You still go right for the throat. No care for how you’re going to hold the position later.”

The assassin glared. “Don’t preach your fancy training to me.”

“Don’t be jealous–”

The assassin scoffed. “Jealous? Jealous? Being jealous would imply that you have something I want, and I would die here, crawling in the mud, before I rolled over as one of their dogs!”

They lunged again, this time nimbler, feigning another blow and ducking the soldier’s return swing. The soldier barely whipped around in time before the point of that wicked blade found itself a home between their shoulder blades.

“You’re really trying to kill me.” As soon as it was out, the soldier bit their tongue.

“Were you not? I’m sorry, sweetie, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Suddenly the assassin was right up in front of them, one hand flat against their chest.

“What are you–” The soldier cranked their head in search of the sword, but then Villain’s tail wrapped around their knee. The end brushed the inside of their leg, sending a traitorous shiver down their spine.

“You still like me,” the assassin said, hand drifting up to their cheek now. Clawed fingers slid into their hair, just gentle enough not to scratch the surface, and their thumb trailed gently back and forth along their cheekbone. “Even after all you’ve done. After selling your soul to see mine damned, you like me.”

They laughed, a musical, hissing sort of sound that showed off the pearly points of their fangs.

“Does your boss know?” The points of their claws sank into their scalp. The soldier winced, attempting to pull back but only earning themselves a tighter grip on their hair. “I’m sure the king would have quite the shock to know one of his precious vassals consorts with demons. Or is it fine because it’s just the one? It is just me, isn’t it?”

They wrenched the soldier’s head to the side. It was almost as if they were on the verge of tearing their hair straight out, even as their face leaned carefully in, breath soft on their cheek and voice oh so gentle.

“It might hurt my feelings if you’ve been playing around with other monsters.”

“Get off me!” The soldier beat the flat of their sword against the assassin’s hip. A sharp, searing pain ripping through their thigh immediately followed. The soldier screamed.

The assassin drew their sword back scarlet, and the soldier collapsed the to the forest floor, a gush of warmth soaking their pantleg.

For a moment the assassin only stood over them, twirling their bloodied blade once, consideringly. “Huh. It seems I don’t want you dead. But don’t think I won’t do it if you press me. Just stay down and let me finish my job.”

They strode for the crashed carriage, dead driver still hanging out of their seat.

“No!” the soldier pressed their palm to their wound and wobbled to their feet. They gritted their teeth against the muscle-tearing agony as they dragged themselves stiffly forward. “You don’t understand!”

The assassin glared over the shoulder. “No, [Soldier], you don’t understand. You think we’re still kids playing games. We just whack each other a few times until we both get tired, call it a draw, and go home, but sorry, dear, we’re not kids anymore. I’ve been charged to kill the prince, and that is what I aim to do. Stay out of my way or die with him.”

“You’d…you’d really kill me?”

“I wouldn’t be killing my [Soldier]. I’d be killing another piece of the putrid infection that took them away.”

The assassin took a couple of steps forward before pausing again. This time they didn’t turn when they spoke. They stayed facing their target, shoulders straight and taught, tail lashing.

“You know they burned it down?” Their voice came out barely louder than a whisper. “Right after they took you and everyone else who benefited them out. They did it in the night while we were asleep. Most of them died.”

The soldier’s stomach clenched, almost like someone had taken their insides in a nauseating death grip. “I…I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. You were busy preening.”

The soldier surged forward furiously, slick hand slipping off their leg. “You don’t know a thing about me! I’ve been doing all I can to save you! All of you!”

The assassin scoffed. “Really? And where are the fruits of your labor? Have you actually done anything?”

“It’s a long road to peace.”

“Not so long as you’d think.”

The assassin wrenched open the door to the carriage.

“No!”

The soldier stumbled on their next step, falling to their knees a few feet away.

The child scrambled back against the back of the carriage, knobby, white breached knees drawn to his ridiculously large cravat.

“What…” In a blink, the uncertainty was gone and the assassin hauled the child out of the carriage by the arm. “What is this?”

“The crown prince.” The soldier dragged themselves a little closer and held up both hands cautiously.

“No. No!” The assassin shook the prince in their fist causing him to whimper. “The crown prince is grown. He’s the pompous, pretty brat who gives all those puff speeches and insipid sneers.”

The soldier swallowed, not taking their eyes off their charge.

“That’s what we would call a stand-in. A double. An assassin deterrent. If you thought he was the prince why did you track my carriage?”

“Because I knew it would be you.”

“What?”

“Who else is good enough to be the prince’s personal bodyguard? I know what I saw when the carriages left, but I knew, somehow, he would be with you.” Their gaze flicked down to the trembling, wet-eyed child in their hand–he was doing a remarkably good job keeping the majority of his emotions on the inside. “I still have to kill him. Child or not. This line has to end.”

“Wait!” the soldier grimaced at their own abrupt movement, gripping their leg once again. “Wait. Just…let me show you something. Please.”

The assassin hesitated. “Put down the sword.”

The soldier dropped the heavy, gilded blade without hesitation.

“It’s about the kid. Can you…can you bring him a little closer?”

The soldier was beginning to feel a little dizzy, but they had to hold on a little longer. For the kid. For [Assassin].

“If this is a trap, I will gut you,” the assassin said, but they still took the few steps between them, transferring the point of their blade from the child to the soldier’s throat.

The soldier made brief eye contact with the prince. “Forgive me, my liege.”

The young royal nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He must have known what the soldier was about to do. He still felt humiliation over his differences, defects the other royals called them. The soldier was doing everything to cure those notions before they took too deep.

With a strong wrench either direction, the soldier ripped a large tear in the back of the prince’s trousers.

A black, tufted tail slipped out.

The assassin dropped him.

“Wh-what…? What?”

The soldier siezed the child up in their arms, scrambling on their rearend a few painful paces back before looking back at the assassin’s pale and confused expression.

Their mouth moved numbly. “[Assassin] meet [Prince]. The crown prince. His safety is not the only reason the royal has hid his identity with a double. He… He’s not the queen’s, but he is the king’s. That doesn’t make him legitimate, but it does make him fit to rule. And with no other heirs…” The soldier met the assassin’s eyes. “He’s going to change everything. He’s going…he’s going…” Their voice cracked. “Please.”

The assassin stared, predator eyes swimming with something unreadable. Mercy? Regret? Determination?

The soldier fumbled behind them for their abandoned sword. They weren’t getting out of this by running.

The assassin took a step forward. They brought their blade in front of themselves just as the soldier’s fingers caught the end of their sword hilt. The soldier pulled the blade toward them, one arm shaking as they used the other to clutch their charge close. They raised the sword in front of themself, and…

The assassin stabbed their short sword into the earth.

In moments, their old friend was knelt beside them, ripping a long piece of fabric from their tunic.

“Ridiculous, stupid, noble-hearted…” the rest was lost in a spew of unintelligible grumbling as the assassin wrapped the length of makeshift bandage taughtly around their leg. Their fingers moved fast and gruff, but they lingered a moment over the tie.

“I thought you changed. I thought you were like them.”

The soldier took a shuddering breath. “I have changed. But never like that. I’d never betray what I know is right.”

“Why are you such an incessant goody-two shoes?” The assassin chuckled lightly, giving their leg an awkward but playful shove before pushing to their feet.

“One of us has to be,” the soldier joked nervously back.

The assassin yanked their sword free with a small spray of earth and leaves, wiping it briefly on the ground before sliding it back in its sheath.

A beat of silence passed as the assassin turned back toward them.

“I’ll tell the guild the situation,” they finally said. “You…may see me again soon.”

Their tail flicked softly against the soldier’s ankle. It was light enough that it could have been an accident, but from what the soldier remembered, the assassin very rarely made accidents…

They smiled softly. “I’ll…keep an eye out.”

The assassin nodded and turned to the prince, bowing shortly. “My liege.”

The future king opened their mouth to respond, but when nothing came out, they only nodded nervously back.

The assassin chuckled. “I’m not being forgiven so easily, am I?”

The prince huddled closer to the soldier’s chest.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

With one last nod, they turned on their heel and began the trek back into the trees. They only got a few steps before stopping again.

“I missed you.” It came so quiet the soldier barely caught it against the wail of wind in the branches. They did not wait for a response. With a last flick of their tail, they were gone.

The soldier stared after them, barely seeing the empty clearing in front them as they murmured a reply to the empty air.

“You too.”

#protagonist x antagonist #assassin x soldier #human x monster #fantasy #supernatural #supernatural creatures #sword fight #writblr #writeblr #creativing writing #writing snippet #secret santa #fantasci tumblr #fantasci snippet

[coffeebanana]

where i'm at in life is i want to hoard fics until i have like 20 things to update and then unleash them all in a blur once i'm bursting at the seams with excitement. so if i just don't post anything for the next few months i swear i didn't die

i mean, probably. i can't actually predict the future

also watch me ignore this completely and post something this weekend

#kayla rambles #i DO have to post at least once this month for littlebug secret santa #but asjkfbdskjb aside from that i'm lowkey just considering going on a little hiatus #definitely will still be writing #but idk. i want to take my time and enjoy the process i guess? #and i mean you can always hound me for snippets #i'll definitely still be sharing things on discord so 😂

[watercolorfreckles]

Apple Pie // Secret Santa Snippet for @that-storming-writer

If you're a part of the discord server, you probably know that @creweemmaeec11 arranged a secret Santa event for writing snippets! Everyone submitted a request and she assigned people's prompts to each other, to be posted on Christmas Eve. As said, this is for @that-storming-writer! Merry Christmas and I hope that you like it!!

Their prompt request is: Rescue missions are fun, especially if the rescuee is surprised they're being rescued. It's especially great if it's coupled with "My enemy/rival is in danger and I'm going to pretend I don't have these feelings/ignore the feelings I have for them while I save them"

TW: Vague mention of past violence; bruises; imprisonment

"You have an insufferably persistent knack for getting yourself into trouble. I have half a mind to leave you here."

Hero's head snapped up and immediately regretted the way the contents of his brain seemed to swoop and crash together at the sudden movement.

Villain could feel the jump of his pulse as if it were her own. It slashed red across her mind's eye. The two of them, in their thoughts and feelings, were intertwined. Villain's powers craved a host to copy; to mimic. To blur the lines between what feelings truly belonged to her and what only belonged to the person her powers clung to.

She could sense the horrors that had been done to Hero in this cell. The echo of it ghosted over her. Her skin itched with the false memory of it.

Hero's eyes locked with Villain's where she stood on the other side of the bars to his cell. One finger crooked, she dangled a jangling ring of keys in front of her.

Villain sensed Hero's stomach jolt. With hope? Relief? Dread that Villain might instead make a show of leaving him behind after demonstrating she could have helped him?

Hero rose to his feet, slowly as if cautious of spooking her off. In the dim light of the hanging lantern outside his cell, the purple bruises marring his perfect face became apparent. His lip sported a red split down the center.

Villain could taste blood in her mouth.

"I didn't mean to get caught," Hero said, trying for a smile. It shone with all the energy of a golden retriever seeking to please its human (while requesting a tummy rub with those innocent eyes).

"People seldom do, honey," Villain said, pitying.

Hero eyed the keys in her hand, though he didn't reach for them. "You came for me." Even through the edge of doubt lacing his words, his voice was optimistic. The unrelenting beam of sunshine that he was.

(And Villain most definitely did not love that about him.)

Something warm and velvet trickled through the cavity of her chest and she refused to consider that the feeling was her own.

"You are hopeless," Villain grumbled, sliding the key into the lock. The door swung open with a whine.

"But you came for me," Hero repeated, in that soft, adorable voice.

As he said the words, she smelled his surprise, sharp and vaguely sweet. It bubbled up and over her, settling into a blush at her cheeks.

Hero blinked at her. "You're blushing."

"Only because you're blushing," Villain shot back, taking hold of his arm and tepidly pulling him out of the cell.

Hero stumbled, legs folding beneath him. Villain caught him, saving his knees from cracking against the stone floor. His relief was jarring. It whispered against her bones, ringing them into wind chimes.

Villain had no control over who her powers chose to feed off of, nor could she determine how long her physical and emotional senses would be interwoven with theirs. The way those senses manifested themselves to her could be a tad unconventional as well. When her powers latched onto Hero some months ago--her rival, her enemy--it was unexpected, to say the least.

The growing fondness she had for him was a liability. It led her to do stupid things like chase down the lairs of supervillains to free naive heroes.

Annoyingly soft, sunny, and pitiful heroes.

"Are you hurt?" Villan nodded toward the hero's legs. Before she'd even finished speaking, her own legs creaked in answer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure I can walk," Hero said, fumbling to straighten on wobbly feet. "I may just- need a minute."

His earnest expression, determined and delicate, spilled that heroic and golden hope through her insides. It felt sticky, like melted candy smudging her ribcage.

Disgusting.

She tried not to think about how cute he looked, clinging to her shoulders.

Shouts filled the distance.

"Unless you'd like to be locked back up in that cage, we may not have a minute." Villain swept the hero into her arms, hooking one arm under his legs. He was thin and relied far more on his own powers than his muscles. Which was reflected in the lean contour of his limbs.

His breath caught as Villain carried him out of the room.

His weight only strained her slightly. She focused her attention on dodging henchmen and reaching the exit safely, though Hero's singing heart and burning cheeks were difficult to ignore.

The pink flush of him branded her cheeks in mirror image.

Villain turned a corner and slipped down the final corridor, not looking at the hero in her arms. "Stop swooning."

"I am not swooning!" he squeaked.

"I literally feel you swooning, Hero, it feels like butterflies and apple pie, I can taste the color blue."

Hero's nose crinkled. "Huh?"

"Forget it," Villain snapped, kicking open the final door.

Freedom.

She wasn't sure whether the giddy rush of adrenaline was hers or Hero's.

Carrying him to her car, Villain tucked the hero into the back seat where he could lie down. She draped her jacket over him and reached to buckle his seatbelt.

Hero winced as her knuckles brushed an unhealed injury. Villain paused. Flashes of the incident blazed across her mind. It smelled like smoke in her nostrils. "They will pay for this," she said, soft and matter-of-fact.

Gently, she brushed the hair away from his aching temple.

Villain made to pull away to shut the door, but Hero caught her fingers. His touch was feather-light. Electric all the same.

"Villain?" His voice filled her with clouds and warm tea.

She looked at him, lifting a brow in question.

Hero glanced at their hands, as if unsure what to do now that he had it. "I, um- You... You feel like apple pies and butterflies too. I think."

Villain cracked a smile. The effort on his part to connect, to understand, made her pause. Even if he didn't really comprehend what he was saying. She knew what his soul whispered.

I was swooning. I do like you. Thank you. You came for me.

Villain straightened, pulling her jacket up a little more snugly against his chest. Her smile didn't fall. "All in a day's work, honey. Let's take this rendezvous to my place, yeah?"

The skip of her heart, the warmth in her belly, definitely belonged to her.

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#hxvsecretsanta #my writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #hero x villain #villain x hero #female villain #female villains #heroes and villains #writers on tumblr #secret santa #writing snippet #flash fiction #superhero #hero x supervillain #female supervillain #supervillain x hero

[auratusaria]

For Everly (@deckofaces)!

Merry Christmas! I'm your secret santa hehe! :D

So the prompt was: I would like some hurt or sick to comfort (I’m a sucker for those tropes). Kinda want civilian x villain/hero or villain x villain :)

While thinking of what to write for it, I thought "why choose one pair when it can be both." So I found a way to have a little dual pairing with civilian x hero and villain x villain! Hope you like it! :D

A Warm Christmas

Though Hero has many secrets, one in particular was that they were Villain's older sibling. Not many people knows about, only their family and some very close friends. It wasn't that they were ashamed, in fact, they just wanted to protect them as Villain does the same thing.

Despite working for completely opposite sides, Hero and Villain has a closely knit bond. They love each other and as siblings are, would have a lot of friendly banter, though their jobs allowed for the excuse of getting a little bit rough and physical.

And that leads to their current situation.

Hero tightly wrapped themself in a thick blanket, sitting on the couch with a scowl on their face, sniffling every once in a while. Villain laid on the floor by the couch, wrapped in a blanket as well and whining so loudly.

"I HATE THIS! I HATE THIS SO MUCH! I'M IN PAIN! IN AGONY! I'M GOING TO DIE!"

Hero gave them a light kick and groaned, "Will you be quiet already?! My head is throbbing so badly and you're not helping! Stop being so dramatic!"

"SHUT UP!" Villain slapped their foot away, "Who's fault was it that I'm sick and miserable right now?!"

"You aren't the only one that's sick and miserable!" Hero argued back, kicking them again with a little bit more force this time, "Who's bright idea was it to pick a fight in the middle of winter! AND RUN OFF TO A FROZEN LAKE!"

"We could've just chased each other off of it! But nooooo! You crave for blood and fought me on it!"

"And you're making me crave for blood right now!"

"YOU'RE THE WORST OLDER SIBLING EVER!" Villain sat up to hit Hero.

"NO! YOU'RE THE WORST YOUNGER SIBLING!" Hero climbed down the couch and tackled Villain to the floor.

"Despite being sick, you two sure are full of energy." Civilian spoke from the doorway, she held a paper bag in one hand while the other holds a present.

"CIVILIAN!!! VILLAIN IS BULLYING ME!!!" Hero struggled to break free out of Villain's grasp, a small cough leaving their throat.

"DON'T COUGH IN FRONT OF MY FACE!"

"Was that my loveable rival shouting for help?" Other Villain poked his head through the doorway beside Civilian, his signature smile plastered on his face.

"OTHER VILLAIN! WAAAAHHHH! HELP ME!" Villain kicked Hero off of them, reaching their hands out towards Other Villain who let out a gasp and rushed towards them, placing the items he held beside the couch and wrapping Villain in his arms.

"Don't worry, Cupcake! I'm here! Your prince charming is here to save you!"

Hero groaned loudly, flinging a throw pillow at the pair who merely gasped and whined in tandem. Having those two together in one room is the worst thing ever and Hero was already miserable from their sickness.

Civilian giggled as she approached Hero, "Come on Hero, 'tis the season to be jolly!"

Hero pouted and reached an arm out towards her, "Not when I'm sick..."

"Aww, does my knight in shining armor want a little kiss to make everything feel better?"

Though their face was already hot from the fever, they felt it get warmer, tainting it with a light red as they averted their gaze. "Sure..." They quietly said.

Civilian gave them a soft kiss on their forehead and gently stroked their hair. "Merry Christmas."

Civilian and Other Villain busied themselves around Hero and Villain's house. Preparing the food and decorating the living room while the two sat in the couch and watch everything happen around them. There wasn't much to decorate though as they already did it before they got sick.

From time to time, Civilian would stop by Hero to give them a peck on the cheek, giving them hot cocoa, a few headpats, and even feeding them some cookies.

Villain would reach out and tug at Other Villain's shirt whenever he came close and Other Villain would always put down everything that he was holding and coddle Villain. Hugging them close to his chest, patting their head and back, peppering soft kisses on all over their face while whispering words of endearment.

It became a little routine for the two.

By the time they were finished preparing, a large pillow fort was set up in the center of the living room just close by the Christmas tree, several presents lining the bottom of it as colourful lights circled its leaves. The sound of music box versions of Christmas songs playing softly in the background.

Hero and Villain sat inside the fort with their partners, leaning onto their shoulders. Other Villain holding Villain close to him while Civilian has her arm around Hero's waist as she gently carded her fingers through their hair. The huge handmade blanket that Civilian and Other Villain worked on wraps around all four of them, though it isn't a good idea as surely the two would be bickering again soon but for the short amount of peace, it was quite worth it.

#hxvsecretsanta #writeblr #heroes and villains #my writing #snippet #secret santa #civilian x hero #villain x villain #this is long im sorry #brain in big writing mode still #it was fun writing it though! #long snippet