#tumblr snippets

[ariadne-mouse]

the long wind down

Shadowgast, rated G, 1276 words. An ode to burnout.

-

"Of course I am not fine." 

Caleb's tone was waspish, and only their growing familiarity with each other told Essek that the sharpness was not meant for him, though he had catalyzed it.  Strudel the tawny longhair cat had no such wisdom, and leapt down from Caleb’s lap, offended. 

"We are in the final waiting period of the old man's sentencing, Beauregard has unearthed new dirt on the Martinet that we cannot pursue yet because of political bullshit, and Soltryce has changed the composition of their teaching offer four times.  I am not fine, Essek.  I am going insane."  Caleb clenched his hands in the air as though he could seize reality itself and shake it, then sagged back in his armchair, strings cut.  He rubbed his forehead.  "I am tired and wired at the same time, in equal and contradicting parts.  It has been nonstop for months."

"Caleb Widogast." Up close, the lines creasing Caleb's face were even more evident in the flickering candlelight.  Essek sat on the arm of the chair and rested his palm against Caleb's scruffy beard. "What can I do?"  His thumb soothed the cheekbone beneath it.

"Nothing," Caleb sighed, turning his face into the touch.

"I can distract you, if you wish." 

The offer earned him a faint flash of a grin. "I do enjoy your skills at distraction, Herr Thelyss."  But he did not move, his posture still slumped, the weight of him and the world on his shoulders pressing down into the chair, and so the question and its answer passed between them unspoken in that tender space of knowing.

Essek frowned. "And you cannot rest?"

"Nein," Caleb looked up at him wearily. "My mind wants something to chew.  It is hungry.  But as soon as I try, and pick up this or that, I get lost in the details or else make stupid mistakes like a schoolboy trying his hand at advanced magic.  I have been going for so long, I can't stop, but I have hit a point where I can’t string two coherent thoughts together either." His eyes drifted shut, but his continued unease was betrayed by the way he plucked at his sleeve in his lap, a precursor to his bad habit of scratching.

Essek’s mind was not fully refreshed either, such was his life of evasion these days, but his retreat from his Dynasty connections was also a retreat from the obligations and noise that came with them.  It was rather the reverse of Caleb’s plight — while his friend sought to put down roots in his home country and make change, Essek was pulling up his roots and casting himself into the wind.  But he remembered the years he’d spent climbing through the Dynasty, and with that recollection, he found he had a solution.  

He tilted his head.  "I have just the thing.  Perhaps."

"Do you?" Caleb straightened up fractionally, focusing on Essek once more.

“Perhaps.”  Essek drew away, but only to free his hands for casting.  “It is a trivial invention of mine from my early days at court, when I first achieved the rank of Shadowhand.  There was always a great deal to be done, many things happening at once, but each with their own restrictions and tediums and frustrations.  Politics.  At times waiting, able to do nothing while some goal became more and more urgent.  Interlacing plans, advancing at different paces.  I found it hard to rest, then, too.  The mind is reluctant to let go, once put to such… hm. Overclocking?”

He traced some symbols in the air, leaving a softly glowing indigo afterimage.  These symbols unspooled themselves and rearranged into a new display: a blank rectangular grid with notation at each row and column. “The numerals are in Undercommon, but I never envisioned an application for this outside of my own personal use.”  He then touched a square in the grid with a spark of magic, and it filled with a soothing blue-purple color.  “It is a simple logic puzzle.  There is an underlying pattern — I took pains for the spell to generate it at random, unknown to the caster — and can be solved by marking the squares to match it.  I will tell you no more of the rules.  Try it.”

Caleb leaned up, the light reflected in his eyes.  He tapped a square, and it lit up like Essek’s had.  Another: this one flashed red and then faded dull and grey.

“An incorrect choice?”

“Yes.”

His eyes flitting over the puzzle, Caleb tested a number of other squares in rapid succession, noting whether they glowed a successful blue or a failed grey.  And he did fail a number of times, his brow wrinkling, but he had about him that drive of experimentation they shared when inventing spellwork: failure was not failure, only information to be utilized in the pursuit of understanding.

“Hm. I think I have it.”

Essek inclined his head.  “Show me.”  He waved his hand and dispelled the game board, replacing it with a new one of larger dimensions.

Caleb indicated a row. “Here there are 10 squares, and it is marked with a 1, 3, and 2.   This means there are groupings of tiles in that composition, in that order, that are neighbors but do not touch.  You must cross-reference with other rows and columns to surmise where they can occur to be in harmony with the patterns of other rows and columns.  And you cannot always do it all at once.”  He tapped a few successful tiles.  Then, quickly engrossed, he continued on.

It was unsurprising that Caleb had quickly deduced the Undercommon numerals by their context, and that he had figured out the simple rules, but there was always pleasure in observing his mind work.  Essek watched Caleb’s face instead of the puzzle.

In the work of a few minutes, he was tapping the last tile of the pattern. The whole grid pulsed with faint light, and dissolved into stardust.

“Oh, pretty.” Caleb tilted his head back to smile at Essek. “You invented this?  It is a remarkable bit of spellwork.”

Essek preened. “It is useless except for this, of course.  A pastime, nothing more.  But when the need arises… I have always found it soothing.”

“May I copy it down?”  Caleb rubbed at his eyes and cast around for pen and ink from the nearby table where their research papers were cast about like autumn leaves.

“Tomorrow.” Essek stayed Caleb in his chair with a hand on his shoulder. “It will take an hour or two, and we have just established that you are in need of rest.  Please, allow me.  I will cast them until you wish to stop.  They require minimal arcane power.”

Caleb’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and drew Essek’s hand from his shoulder and kissed the palm of it.  “If you insist, dear.”

Essek smiled.  “I do.”

Nine and half puzzles later, Caleb was leaned on his elbow, dozing.  

With a flick of his wrist, Essek dispelled the half-finished puzzle and eased himself off the arm of the chair, found a throw blanket, and draped it over Caleb’s lap.  The sleek tabby cat Bartolomew was quick to follow, and Strudel — the earlier insult forgotten — joined soon after, but Caleb did not stir at the added weight, used to his cats making themselves comfortable anywhere at any hour. 

Essek’s feet made no sound as he floated to the kitchen and puttered about making tea.  He would have to leave in the morning, but for now, in the quiet broken only by the clank of the teapot and Caleb’s snoring, this was home.

-

This ficlet is based off of nonogram puzzles. If you'd like to try one online, I recommend this site!

#tired brain go brrrr #shadowgast #critical role #c2 #tumblr snippets #op #ariadne writes CR

[philomena-famulok]

©Philomena Famulok

mixed media, 2021/23

#philomena famulok #personal #mixed media #artists on tumblr #scan #mixed media on paper #pastel chalks #photography/painting mixed #my eyes #own photo snippets

[light-koe-pinsky]

we find our lovey dovey couple in the middle of a reconciliation 

#bugs bunny #daffy duck #I was in a mood #thank god they exist #lol #baffy #looney tunes #my art #happy pride folks #i cant believe i have a popular Tumblr post on tumblr dot com #if its from me it had to be daffy lol #i shoulda known #snippets

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

#fan art #artists on tumblr #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #fix it au #captain rex #commander cody #commander fox #commander wolffe #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka #After The War Fluff #Get you some vod that can do plumbing and make fun of your trash disposal unit #OmPu Writes: Snippet #just-typed-this-out-and-it-shows #Kote was grinning like a shark while haggling #It was terrifying #This man waged wars and he cannot wait to utilize every tactical skill he learned in that endeavor on one (1) twi’lek to negotiate the sale #-of a fix-er-upper he was going to buy anyway #First time trying this art style #Star Wars fanfic

[sas-soulwriter]

Dark writing prompts

Some dark writing prompts for the cold winter days :) Number five is my favorite. I wrote a short story about it once. Which one is your favorite?

In a world where emotions are harvested as a powerful energy source, a secret society emerges, exploiting the pain and suffering of individuals to fuel their dark ambitions.

A mysterious antique mirror appears in an old, abandoned house. Anyone who gazes into it experiences glimpses of their worst fears coming to life. What happens when the mirror falls into the wrong hands?

In a dystopian future, a government experiment to control crime goes horribly wrong. Citizens start experiencing their darkest impulses as physical manifestations, leading to chaos and destruction.

A cursed town is shrouded in perpetual darkness, and every year, a single resident must willingly sacrifice themselves to lift the curse for a brief moment. This year, the chosen one has a secret that could change everything.

A talented artist discovers that their paintings have the power to alter reality. However, with each stroke of the brush, a piece of their soul is consumed, leaving them on the brink of madness.

A small community is plagued by a series of unexplainable events, each linked to a children's nursery rhyme. As the rhyme predicts the next tragedy, the townsfolk desperately try to break the curse before it claims them all.

A scientist creates a device that allows people to relive their happiest memories. However, as they delve deeper into the technology, they uncover a hidden layer of forgotten, traumatic experiences that could shatter lives.

In a post-apocalyptic world, survivors discover an underground bunker containing a mysterious machine that claims to offer a chance at resurrection. However, the price to bring someone back is the sacrifice of another life.

A cursed book is said to grant its reader unimaginable knowledge, but at the cost of their sanity. As a desperate scholar seeks its pages, they must confront the malevolent entity within that hungers for their mind.

A detective investigates a series of gruesome murders that seem to be connected by a chilling pattern. As they get closer to the truth, they realize the killer might be something otherworldly, feeding on the fear they instill in their victims.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer stuff #writers #creative writing #dialogue prompt #snippet #writblr #writing advice #writers block #writing community #writing tips #words #story prompt #reylo prompt #writing prompt #writing ideas #writing inspiration #angst prompt #dark prompt

[beastwhimsy]

I'm completely enamored with this wizard who is in like 5 episodes total and gets barely any lines and I have found THREE other artists who have ever drawn fanart of him. anyway I have decided that I will rectify this injustice by getting even more unwell about them. here he is I love you life giving magus

they're the kind of wizard to say "wonderful!! ^_^ 🌼🌷💞" and "HOT DOG!!!!!!!!‼️💥🤯" in the same 10 seconds <- he has done this canonically

ID in alt, please consider reblogging thank you I love you

they're so silly I love you gnc wizard teacher who enjoys road trips and making yummy treats with their friends

#yesterday I designed his entire house. including the fucking carpets he would have #I have given this guy an extensive backstory and have used the snippets of his personality to fully flesh out his character #I think I need to give him more tummy. actually. #hes got a little bit but truly what is a gnc wizard without a proper muffin top #I have ten billion headcanons for this guy and I WILL provide 97% of the lgm content you'll see on here #life giving magus #ancient sleeping magi of life giving #life giving magus adventure time #adventure time #at fanart #adventure time fanart #artists on tumblr #adventure time wizard city #adventure time magus #asmolg adventure time #at fandom #described art #accessible art #I'm so good at ??? finishing commissions instead of only being able to draw things I'm autistic about

[flearisu]

minimal of the crumbs of that guy from welcome home (i still wasnt able to finish anything of him yet i sketch him very frequently) ((hes my favorite)) (((im not normal)))

#these are mostly little snippets from badly draw animatics i did for fun #i really like he #i still think i need to pratice him more though #like. he looks okay but it could be better #especially the shape of his face #but its fine i love him either way #welcome home #wally darling #wally welcome home #welcome home art #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #welcome home wally darling #wh wally #artists on tumblr #doodles

[lovechai]

nsfw.

thinking about how alhaitham always seems too shy, too afraid when it comes to initiating physical intimacy with you. you were his first, and as he had no prior experience aside from those nights with you, he feels uncertain as to how he'll approach you. it's a wonder how you make it look so easy. you are usually so forthcoming with your wants and needs, and him, well, he really is a feeble scholar.

but god, when he finally does it, when he finally lets go of that rational thought holding him back, you could only think about how possible it is to want someone more than ever to the point that it drives you insane. if only you knew how you had already done that to him.

you look all too alluring sitting beside him in your comfy sweater and short skirt. that short skirt. how on teyvat could he focus on his book when the mere sight of you invites all of those obscene images? you're sitting there enjoying the new light novel you've gotten from inazuma while alhaitham is still on the first page, words and letters remaining foreign as he's already hard thinking of fucking you right there and then.

so, to your surprise, alhaitham shuts the book close and throws it on the coffee table. there's a look of concern on your face, but that is soon replaced with fluster when he suddenly slips a strong arm around your shoulders to bring himself closer. you feel his lips against your temple, his warm shaky breath sending shivers down your spine and to your core.

you should be saying anything, but your words die on your tongue when you feel his fingers lightly trail across from your stomach down to your skirt. his fingers easily find your clothed slit, and you could only gasp at him pressing at your dampness through the sheer material of your panties. it's embarrassing how you're already leaking from a few light touches, but fuck, you could never resist him, especially now that he's coming onto you like this.

light novel long forgotten, you grip at his thigh and spread out your legs a little further. and does he take that chance to move your panties to the side. a few strokes immediately leave you whining and feeling lightheaded.

"habibti," alhaitham whispers into your hair, and with that, he relishes in the way his middle finger slips into your wet cunt without any resistance. he gives it a few more thrusts before he slowly adds another finger that has you heaving.

his fingers are so long and thick they stretch you out, and he's pumping them inside you so good that you can't help but want for more.

"haitham, need you," you mewl, throwing your head back so you could get a glimpse of him.

and when he catches you looking at him through half-lidded eyes blown out from pleasure and lust, alhaitham doesn't think twice. he has to have you right now.

#love snippets #love talk #i want him right now !!! :( #and yes i sacrificed my sleep to write this #AAAAAAAaaaAa hmnnhjngh #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #alhaitham #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin impact #small edit at the end bc i just realized tumblr bugged out and deleted the og ending :( icb it was incomplete all this time

[writersagony]

Writing Prompt 52

Villain grunted as they dragged the loopy Hero into their apartment.

"This is the last time you put me down as your emergency number, Hero."

#my writing #writing prompt #writing snippet #but i haven't been writing near enough to think this is good work #writersagony #writers #writing #writers on tumblr #hero x villain snippet #hero #villain x hero #hero and villain #heroes and villains #heroxvillain #hero x villain #villain #hero x villain prompt #hero x villain community

[defectivehero]

If you'd like, please write about an injured hero who needs to be carried around by villain! >:D

“One more complaint and I’m dropping you,” the villain announces, briefly readjusting their grip. They have one arm looped under the hero's knee and the other supporting their enemy's back.

The hero has been steadily avoiding eye contact, instead looking ahead. They look a bit flustered, for some reason. “This is humiliating,” the hero sighs, looking down at their ankle with a menacing glare.

“Yes, it is humiliating,” the villain agrees, an annoyed expression on their face as they stare ahead. They thank the stars that they're walking down a rather narrow and abandoned side street. They wouldn't be able to do this downtown, in broad daylight—both because they're too prideful, and because someone may recognize them. “Maybe if you had paid attention instead of tripping over nothing-”

“Hey, that’s not very nice bedside manner,” the hero interjects. The villain has to take a moment to process that statement.

“Bedside manner is for people who are ill or dying,” the villain sighs, “You’re just dramatic.” Gods, why do they even bother? They could be at home right now, washing the dried blood from their skin and melting under the warm water from their shower. Instead, they're carrying the hero across town as if they're some sort of delivery service. Absolutely ridiculous.

“You haven’t dropped me,” the hero points out. They look far too smug for the villain's liking. Indeed, their next remark nearly makes the villain's jaw crack from how hard they're gritting their teeth. “So I must be doing something right.”

The villain takes a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure. Leave it to their enemy to make a simple act of kindness so painful, overcomplicated, and tedious. “You’re clinging onto my neck so tightly that I’ll get whiplash if I drop you,” the villain feels the need to point out.

“Fair enough,” the hero acquiesces. After a moment’s contemplation, they loosen their grip on their neck. The villain can almost feel the weight slowly seeping from their shoulders. They had underestimated the hero's grip strength, it seems.

They expect the hero to be still once more, but their enemy doesn't relax. It only takes a few moments for them to snap. "Stop squirming," the villain demands.

"I was loosening my grip, asshole-" The hero seethes irritatedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what was that?" The villain asks, making a show of looking around at the empty street around them. "Was I just insulted for helping my enemy back to their agency—which, might I say, is an entirely voluntary and selfless act of heroism?"

The hero scoffs and rolls their eyes. "Oh, please," they huff. The villain gets the feeling that, if their arms were free, they'd cross them over their chest in indignation. "You wouldn't know heroism if it punched you in the face."

The villain just stares at them, waiting for them to catch on to what they just said. The hero connects the dots moments later, as they evidently realize that they themself have indeed punched the villain in the face before.

An awkward tension clings to the air. The villain continues walking down the street towards the hero's agency, internally cursing their pure heart. If this is how inconvenient it is to be a hero, then they don't plan on doing anything remotely good ever again.

Mercifully, the building begins to appear in the distance. As the villain crosses the street, the hero begins to murmur. “Let’s go in through the back,” they say, “Just turn the corner, there’s a door back there-”

“Oh, absolutely not,” the villain interjects immediately. "If we're doing this, then we're doing this." They readjust their grip once more and stroll towards the elaborate front doors of the city's top superhero agency. They can feel the hero stiffen in their arms.

“Please, no,” the hero begs them. The villain doesn’t bother listening, instead continuing to walk purposefully towards the entrance. The security is laughably lax at this hour. It's when they cross the threshold of the entrance that the hero attempts to break free from their grasp. Thankfully, the villain had been expecting them to do just that, and they manage to hold tight.

The villain pointedly clears their throat, satisfied with the way the occupants of the foyer immediately swivel around and stare with gazes of recognition. “I think I have something of yours,” they announce, looking down at the hero in their arms. At this point, the hero is positively wriggling in their arms—desperate for escape. The villain finally decides to take pity on them and they release their grip, leaving the hero to fall to the ground.

“Ouch.” The hero mutters once they hit the ground. The villain rolls their eyes, knowing that the hero managed to break their fall with a tactical roll and land without injury. They push themselves to stand on one foot and someone nearby rushes to their side, providing them adequate support to remain balanced on one side.

Everyone's eyes are on them, as if they're waiting for the villain to do something. "You may carry on," the villain orders, when a few seconds pass and the onlookers continue to stare expectantly. Their voice seems to break through the confusion and anticipation, and the people scattered around the space return to whatever they were doing. "I've done my civic duty for the year." They mutter to themself, turning on their heel and heading for the door.

"Hey." The hero's voice makes them freeze in place. The villain inhales slowly, summoning more patience. They turn around and manifest a calm expression.

"What?" They ask, struggling to keep the frustration from their voice.

"Thanks." The hero smiles.

"Just- don't let it happen again," the villain answers, looking away from the hero's far-too-bright smile. They turn on their heel and walk away, pushing away any and all feelings born from their enemy's gratitude.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

endnotes below!

the villain, holding the hero by the scruff of their neck: look what i foundddd!

the villain: this heroism stuff sucks. the hero: *expresses their gratitude and smiles* the villain, visibly flustered: now hold on a second...

this dynamic really amuses me. I can't get rid of the mental image of the villain holding the hero by the scruff of the neck like a kitten, and the hero just kind of hanging there in defeat. good stuff.

the villain lies awake that night, unable to stop thinking about the hero. :3

and thanks to the anon who sent this request! I posted a cry for help yesterday very briefly and then got embarrassed and deleted it, but! the original point still stands: my ask box is open! send me stuff and i *may* write it!

if ur reading this, ily <3 hehe

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

#defectivehero #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #short fic #snippet #injury #fluff #lighthearted #I'm so used to tagging on ao3 that I post here and I'm like huh what #like what was this about again? lol #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #blah blah #I've been playing stardew so much recently #the new update needs to get to the switch NOW

[iminkandpaper]

I have a thing for Villains in case you couldn't tell.

°•○

"I want her," Villain says, his eyes fixed on Princess, who glances at her father.

The king blanches, his eyes flicking between the two. "You can't-"

"I definitely can," Villain cut him off. "In return for your kingdom back, I want the princess."

She tilted her head to inspect him. Villain, despite his murderous tendencies, was... well, he was rather handsome, if she was being honest. His eyes bored into her father across the table, betraying his mask of indifference. He lounged in his seat while everyone else seemed on the edge of theirs.

Princess wasn't even supposed to be here. She had come only at Villains' request.

"Father," she started, "perhaps Villain and I can talk this through. Alone."

"Absolutely not," he spat. "You will not taint her with your darkness." The King looked to Villain again, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You will not have her."

Villain, with the slightest nod of his head, forced the king into silence. His burning stare moved to the Princess and he addressed her imperiously. "Come. We will discuss."

Not a soul stopped them. Not when he offered his arm. Not when she took it. Not when he led her through to the gardens.

They made their way to the entrance of the spiralling maze before Villain stopped. "You know my request already."

"You want me."

"I want you."

She extracted her arm from his to fiddle with the ring around her throat. "The last time I saw you, you went by Alias."

His jaw clenched. "My name is Villain."

She did not fight him on that. It wouldn't work. Princess stroked the petal of a lily thoughtfully. "You lied to me. You lied to everyone."

Villain remained silent at her back, and she made no move to speak. The silence lingered around them like a thick, suffocating fog. Her willingness to stagnate the conversation thawed at his resolve. Villain would have taken her in his arms and kissed her until she remembered she loved him had she not turned to face him.

"I have conditions," she said finally. He gestured for her to continue. "I will call you Alias. You will cease this ridiculous reign of terror that you have inflicted upon the land. You can keep Kingdom, that land it rightfully yours - but it will be restored to beauty. No more barren land or shaved forests. I want flowers. I want sunshine."

He was silent while she contemplated what else she wanted. He would give it to her. She was worth her weight in gold and more.

"And..." she hesitated.

"Name it and it is yours."

"I want a puppy."

"What?"

"A puppy. Father never let me have one. He said it would only distract me."

His eyes widened in alarm. "I-"

"You said anything," she countered fiercely. When he nodded in agreement, she turned away from him, satisfied.

His lips twisted. "You will have your puppy. And a wedding."

She whirled around, eyes alight.

"You will be my Queen," he said simply. "That is my only request."

"Deal."

They were a breath apart. His fingers reached out to stroke down her cheek, and Princess leaned into the touch.

"I have missed you," Villain murmured, pulling her close to him.

"What, all that power didn't satisfy you?" She taunted. Still, she was in his arms, not pulling away. His hand tangled in her hair, jerking her head backwards. Princess scowled at him. "Don't be mean."

Instead of claiming her mouth like he wished, he settled for a kiss to her temple, cupping the nape of her neck to hold her close.

"I've only ever wanted you," he said. "Everything else was simply an accessory."

She did not respond, cradled in his arms like something precious.

Like something he needed.

#.inkandpaper #snippet of a little mind-fic i have of a specific character who i wont name #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing stuff #writing #writerscommunity #writers of tumblr #writerslife #villain x hero #hero x supervillain #hero x villain #morally grey villain #i like villains #villain/hero #villain #hero #heroes and villains #fantasy setting #princess/villain #kind of #damsel #romance #writing romance #royalty #grumpy sunshine trope #grumpy x sunshine #evil x sunshine

[ariadne-mouse]

the usual

Shadowgast, Rated G, 573 words, prompt: late night takeout

-

"We should perhaps take a break."

"We are getting somewhere, though." Caleb stood and cracked his back. A topographic map of papers, open books, and component jars was laid out on the floor before them.

"We are," Essek agreed. "But if we keep going, it will be several more hours before we pause a second time, and I may begin chewing on parchment to sustain myself."

As if on cue, Caleb's stomach gave a loud gurgle. He ruefully put his hands on his middle. "Ach, you've woken the beast. Well. I suppose you are right. Do you have food here, or should we go out?"

Essek straightened his robes and neatened his hair with an effortless wave of Prestidigitation. "The night is warm. Let us walk. I know a place." He twisted a ring on his finger and his image shimmered, though to Caleb - who wore a second, matching ring - he still looked like himself.

("You know it is an Empire tradition to marry with an exchange of rings," Caleb had teased him, accepting the plain copper band. Only a Detect Magic would reveal it as enchanted. Essek had looked a little embarrassed, but shrugged it away. "I only wish for you to see me as I am. You don't have to take it." And Caleb, warmed, had put the ring directly on his finger and it had been there ever since.)

Caleb followed Essek through the streets of Nicodranas, which were not vacant even at this late hour, but peaceful and welcoming by the presence of others strolling by to enjoy the balmy air and the stars.

After twenty minutes of walking in companionable silence, they came to a storefront whose cheerful interior made it appear as a lantern in the dark. Steam and smoke fled the chimneys on the roof, and the clank of pots and pans and the murmur of people's voices from within broke the spell of nocturnal calm that wrapped around the rest of the city.

"The usual, please," Essek said to an attendant who opened a side window, releasing a billow of air fragrant with herbs and spices. "And... your special for today."

Twenty minutes more, and they were sat on a wooden bench nearby with cheap clay pots in hand, heavy with broth, vegetables, fresh seafood, and translucent rice noodles.

"Your usual," Caleb teased.

Essek raised his eyebrows and did not reply, as he was busy transferring a cascade of noodles into his mouth with chopsticks. They finally vanished with a less-than-dignified slurp. He patted his mouth with a handkerchief. "You have cilantro in your beard. And a bit of oil."

"Oh. Would you?" Caleb tilted his chin forward. Prestidigitation washed over him a moment later. The tingle of it continued down the back of his neck and to his collarbones. Caleb laughed. "I did not have soup all the way down to there, did I?"

Essek sniffed primly and busied himself with his next bite, humor tugging the corner of his mouth.

When they were done, the clay pots set aside to return to the bin at the back of the restaurant, they simply sat there for a long time, watching the passers-by on the street. The warm air wrapped around them, every so often carrying a hint of the sea. The stars glimmered above.

"This was a good idea," Caleb said, Essek's hand in his. He lifted it to brush his lips against the back of it.

Essek smiled. "I know."

#thanks for the prompt jess! <3 #critical role #tumblr snippets #shadowgast #ariadne writes CR #my personal interpretation is that shadowgast probably wouldn't focus on something like marriage in their actual post-canon life #so it's fun to sort of write around its outline to show that they don't need vows or formality to be as close as they are #(note - this is not commentary on what people should/shouldn't write in fic! i've written them married in other ficlets)

[philomena-famulok]

©Philomena Famulok

.

#philomena famulok #personal #artists on tumblr #photographers on tumblr #original photographers #mixed media #scanner #prints/copy paper #photo transfer #own photo snippets #pencil #mixed media on paper #collage on paper

[invalidstories]

Forbidden Love

Warnings: physical aggression, physical restraint, forbidden attraction, and romantic tension

In the dimly lit alley, Hero stumbled, their breath ragged and limbs heavy with exhaustion. They had been chasing Villain for what felt like an eternity, their determination fueled by a relentless sense of duty. But now, as they faced their adversary in the cold embrace of the night, Hero could feel the weight of their fatigue bearing down upon them.

Villain, ever the opportunist, seized the moment, lunging forward with predatory grace. Hero's reflexes were dulled by exhaustion, and before they could react, Villain had them pinned against the brick wall, their body pressed close, trapping the Hero.

"You look tired, Hero," Villain purred, their voice a low, taunting whisper that sent shivers down Hero's spine. "Is the weight of the world finally catching up to you?"

Hero gritted their teeth, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of their enemy's gloating. "Maybe," they managed to rasp out, "but that won't stop me from taking you down."

Villain chuckled darkly, their breath hot against Hero's neck. "Such bravado," they murmured, their lips dangerously close to Hero's ear. "But we both know you're no match for me in this state."

Hero's heart raced as they struggled against Villain's iron grip, their body pressed against the cold, unyielding wall. Every fiber of their being screamed for release, for freedom from Villain's suffocating hold. Yet, even in their exhaustion, a flicker of comfort grew within them, being so close to the villain.

As Villain's gaze bore into theirs, Hero felt something stir within them – a strange, forbidden attraction that blossomed despite the circumstances. There was something captivating about them, something that stirred Hero's heart in ways they couldn't explain.

"You may be right," Hero admitted, their voice barely above a whisper, "but there's something about you that I can't ignore."

And in that moment, with the world crumbling around them, Hero reached out, their fingertips grazing Villain's cheek. Villain leaned into the touch, their eyes fluttering closed as they surrendered to the irresistible pull of fate.

Suddenly, their lips met met the villain's in a desperate kiss, emotions surging between them – desire, longing, and a hint of defiance. In that stolen moment, Hero and Villain were no longer enemies, but two souls intertwined in a dance of forbidden passion.

But as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Villain whispered words that shattered the fragile illusion of their connection.

"Perhaps in another life, we could have been more than enemies."

And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty and longing in their wake.

"Amid the chaos, find beauty in the unexpected."

Masterlist

#hero x villain #reading #writers on tumblr #short story #villain x hero #hero and villain #villainsxheroes #hero villain #villain #hero #enemies to lovers #forbidden love #writing snippet #snippet #writing #invalidstories #old writing

[thepenultimateword]

Sugar and Spice

Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.

He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."

Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"

"Excuse me?"

He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."

"You're department is doing what you're told."

"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"

Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."

Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."

Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."

Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.

Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.

That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?

Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.

Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.

Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.

First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.

He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.

He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."

Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.

Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"

The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.

"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.

"You're a henchman, right?" she said.

"Um...yes?"

Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."

Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.

She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.

Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."

Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."

Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"

Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.

"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."

"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.

"Not anymore."

"But Supervillain--"

"Has different orders."

Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?

"Yep."

"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"

"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."

"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"

Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."

"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"

"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."

Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"

"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."

Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.

"Ok."

Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.

Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.

He yawned widely.

What sort of things...did Villain...like...?

Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.

"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.

Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.

"I'm sorry!"

Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."

"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.

Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."

"This is our safe house?"

"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."

Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.

Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.

Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?

The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.

Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.

As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"

Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"

"You're support; you need to keep watch."

"For what?"

"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.

Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"

Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”

“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."

Villain sighed. "What?"

"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”

“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.

“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”

Villain shot upright. “What?”

“Combat isn’t my speciality.”

“But you’re a combat henchman!”

Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”

"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”

"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”

“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”

“Villain?”

She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"

Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."

Part Two

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#villain x henchman #villain x villain #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #fiction #writers of tumblr #hero x villain community

[amandaherzman]

Sweet violets for February! Violets are edible and were a popular flavor in the late 1800s. Today they've gone out of fashion, and instead flavors like vanilla fill up our flavor palate. Violet pastilles were first made by the Monks of Benedictine, in France. Today a 9th century recipe is still used to create these pastilles.

#botanical art #plant lore #flowers #violets #this is just a snippet of the herbolgist folklore! #but omg ive never actually tried violet candy and now i really wanna #artists on tumblr