A restaurant named You're Not Supposed To Be Here, where the whole point is that the vibes are unnerving. The lighting is weird, the whole place has a faint scent that's not a bad smell, but it's certainly not food smell and you can't quite identify what the hell it is. The music is weirdly janky and you can't quite tell what's wrong with it, the vocals aren't exactly garbled but sung in a language you swear you've never heard anywhere and couldn't name if you tried. Only hiring staff who have anxiety and they're 100% permitted to show how much your presence here stresses them out.
What about a sub!villain who tries to play the part of the suave, dominant villain cause they’re afraid of vulnerability… and an actually dominant hero who sees through it and flips the script. Could it also be spicy please?
Also, your writing is amazing and it makes my day better! Thank you so much for sharing it! I send you hugs!
"You may think you're deceptive. But you are not." The end of the villain's dagger nearly buried its way into their own skin. Although the villain couldn't recall when the hero had gotten a hold of it during the fight, they were quite pleased with the result. (The result being the hero on top of them, still panting from the fight.) "Your effort is quite delightful, though."
The villain cracked a smile.
"Oh, you want to ravage me so bad..."
"Your imagination doesn't even come close to how bad I truly want that," the hero answered.
There was something in their presence that stirred the villain in an exciting way. Was it their body? Their personality? Their morals and their desires? Usually, the villain considered themselves to be talented when it came to reading people and analyzing the relationships they had with them.
For better or worse, it was different with the hero. More confusing. More dangerous.
At this point, the villain was playing with fire - they didn't know exactly what their relationship with the hero was nor where they stood.
"I loathe you for being my only weakness." The hero let the blade dig into the villain's chin until they looked up. "And destroying you would probably bring me some peace."
"Oh." The villain had never heard such a blunt statement coming from the hero. At least not something this personal and...open. It nearly made the villain sick to their stomach how casually the hero had mentioned it.
Slowly, the hand which wasn't holding onto the dagger travelled up the villain's arm until those cursed fingertips found a shaking wrist and grabbed it.
"But what am I without you? What is Orpheus without his muse?"
"You're so charming today..." The villain tried to sound as flirty as they could but their voice was inexplicably trembling.
When had the hero decided to be so horrible and seduce the villain? And why on earth was it working?
"How does that make you feel?" the hero asked, their voice nothing more than a whisper. They freed their index finger from their grip around the villain's wrist and slowly, agonizingly, let it travel upwards. The villain took in a sharp breath, surprised by the hero's actions.
It felt a little too intimate. Nearly immoral.
The villain felt quite stupid for blushing, after all, it was just the hero's finger rubbing against their palm and their breath on the villain's neck.
"I'm..." The villain tried to concentrate but it wasn't that easy anymore. They closed their eyes, close to defeat already. "Sorry, what do you mean?"
Did the hero have to level their weight on the villain's hips? Did they have to say these things? Startle the villain like that? Couldn't they just flirt, try to kill each other and go home after?
Did the hero have to whisper something this close to a confession into the villain's ear?
"How does it feel to be my only weakness?" the hero murmured. Their grip loosened and slowly, their hand began their conquest towards the villain's fingers. "How does it feel to mean so much to me? To occupy my thoughts during the day? And my dreams during the night?"
Hell, the hero was dreaming about them?
"What are you doing...?" Suddenly, the hero let their fingers entwine, squeezing gently and for whatever reason, the villain took in a quick breath.
"I believe we both know you crave a superficial relationship. Something that makes you feel superior and secure. But I can tell you from personal experience that those relationships don't work out in the long run. They will make you feel miserable. They will make you feel worthless. If I want you, I will want you bare. And there is nothing I desire more." Their lips were close to the villain's. "In your own time, of course. You strip. Figuratively and literally, obviously."
"I- You-"
"I am always willing to help, though." The hero smirked lazily and squeezed the villain's hand. "There is no reason to feel ashamed. Or to feel weak. After all, you have me in your hand."
The villain couldn't say anything.
It had started as a normal fight. With the usual flirting.
And now, the villain was actually thinking about opening up to someone. To talk about all their horrible fears and the self-doubt. About all their mistakes and regrets.
This had to be some new weapon or master plan to turn the villain into a good person. Whatever it was, the villain feared they would think about this encounter for the months to come.
"I will keep this, though," the hero announced. They held up the villain's dagger and pushed themselves off the villain. "Everyone needs a memento of their beloved, don't they?"
All the villain could do was stare as the hero blew them a kiss and vanished into the night.
CW: crying, blood, bruising
It was all behind him now. He was out. He was free. All he had to do was get to his friends and heal up. The bruises on his wrists bled a little, as he stumbled down the dark street. He roughly wiped away tears from his face, hardly able to stand. His very soul shook, the tremors spreading to his bones, his muscles, his tendons.
He leaned against a wall, lightheaded from exhaustion. He wasn't used to walking everywhere. Flying was just so much more convenient. But any qi usage would mean capture as Thomas would no doubt be scanning for any large qi use. In this pitiful state, it wouldn't even be a fight. All Dené could hope right now is that he almost died and got a boost after he healed up.
He fell to his knees and screamed. A gutteral scream that was borne from his heart. A scream, not of pain or anger, but of release. As did his tears, so too did his scream lift a weight from his shoulders. He shuddered before standing up. At least, trying to. His legs gave out and all he could do was kneel as rain began to fall. A calming, cleansing, light rain that romantics danced and proposed in. The moon played across the water dreamily, almost mocking Dené's predicament.
But as quickly as it had come, it was no longer. At least, not on his back. He looked up. It was a woman holding a rather large umbrella, one who looked quite established, that she was not one to be trifled with.
"Hi. Um, you look like you need some help."
"I just need to get to my friends and I'll be alright."
"Well based on the sound of your throat and your posture, I'd say you need a bit more than that, young man." Dené growled and lashed his tail before shoving himself upright and looking at the woman who happened to be considerably taller than him. "Well?" she questioned. She looked like Lady Dimitrescu, but felt more like a mother bear, perfectly willing to kill, but only as a means to protect.
"Fine," Dené muttered and the lady called her chauffeur.
"And we'll need to do something about that... mane you have. At least make it look nice."
After the drive, she showed him to a bedroom and its bathroom. "I trust you know what to do from here." She got him a change of clothes, a cloth, and a towel.
When he looked in the (rather expansive) mirror, he saw someone he didn't recognize. Someone who was weak, helpless, ill-maintained. Not the former general of a military based on strength and order. He ran his fingers through the tangled mop that was his hair and came to an abrupt stop at a wad of knots. He started the shower, stripped, then stood under the hot water.
It was then that tears started to flow. Silent tears of helplessness, weakness, inferiority, and fear. Tears of despair, conflict, and emptiness. He cleaned himself then set to working out the knots, but he didn't quite have the patience, so got out of the shower, dried off, put on the clothes he was given, and went to find the woman.
But then, his nose caught the strong scent of food, the strongest of which was the smell of chicken noodle soup, with celery, carrots, onion, garlic, and basil. It was this smell which led him to a dining room where the woman sat, as if she was waiting for him. Now she wore a silk nightgown, making her look more like a rich MILF from some cheesy anime than an evil, centuries-old vampire dominatrix.
They ate, but before Lady Borea sent him to bed, she had him sit with her in front of the fireplace as she worked out the knots in his hair. Before she was done with the first one, he was asleep.
Someone out there needs your writing. Someone out there needs your writing. Someone out there needs your writing. Even if you don't think it's good enough. Even if you aren't satisfied with it yourself. Someone will love it. For someone, it will become a safe place to return to.
love me a classic enemies to lovers prompt but instead of them going all lovey dovey for each other, the “lover” phrase isn’t explicitly stated in the sense that they didn’t kiss or confess, as far as they and everybody else knows, they are enemies. but the love, the possessiveness and the protective are there in the sense that if one of them gets hurt, the other will stop at nothing until they find and rescue their own archenemy and nurse them back to health. and instead of pain and violence that used to be the only things they share with each other, this time it’s gentleness a character gives his own wounded enemy. because yes, that’s my enemy. mine. and he’s hurting. I must fix this. I must burn the world down and kill every single one who dares to touch my enemy. and then I must make sure he’s okay. because he’s my enemy and he’s hurting. I must take care of him. I must be gentle, even if gentleness comes as a struggle to me; for the only I know is violence. I must still be gentle with him because right now he’s wounded and scared. I must make sure he’s safe and okay. I must be gentle for him. I must.
— also check out this fic with this prompt here
Fingers tapping rhythmically on a surface.
Shifting weight from one foot to the other.
Checking the time frequently.
Eyes darting to the door or window expectantly.
Taking deep, excited breaths.
Biting the lower lip in nervous excitement.
Rubbing hands together eagerly.
Whispering, “I can’t wait” to themselves or others.
Fidgeting with objects, like twisting a ring or playing with a pen.
Heart pounding with eagerness.
Perking up at any noise that might signal the anticipated event.
Smiling slightly, as if imagining the future moment.
Knees bouncing up and down while seated.
Glancing at their phone or watch repeatedly.
Clutching a piece of clothing or accessory tightly.
Standing on tiptoe to get a better view.
Ears straining to catch any sound.
Swallowing nervously, throat dry with excitement.
Humming or softly singing to pass the time.
Practicing a speech or action they are looking forward to.
Hello writer of most beloved snippets! Might I request a little something? I'd love to see Hero get injured by Supervillain and then have Villain go absolutely feral and just destroy Supervillain because that's their Hero and no one is allowed to touch them
Hello, friend! I am so glad you like what I put out there. I can definitely write this for you.
Please enjoy!
Warnings: physical violence, head injury, unconsciousness, blood
Villain's blood ran cold as they stumbled upon the fight. They had every intention of finding Hero and challenging them tonight. They did not think they would be challenging Supervillain instead.
They watched, consumed by rage, as Supervillain flung Hero like a rag doll into the wall. They watched, seeing red, as Hero crumpled to the ground and remained unmoving. And they watched, jaw clenched, as Supervillain flung the clearly unconscious Hero through the air once more.
Villain surged forward, catching Hero quickly. This was not ok. This was not acceptable. Hero lay limply in their arms, nose bleeding heavily. They had a cut along their eyebrow and a cut along their hairline. "Wake up," Villain urged, shaking Hero hard.
But Hero didn't wake.
"Oh, did I break the pathetic, little Hero?" Supervillain sneered as they came to stop just out of Villain's reach.
Villain was going to end them. "They're alive." Hero was theirs to beat. Theirs to hurt. Theirs to destroy. Not Supervillain's.
"Shame," Supervillain said as they stared down their nose at Hero. "I would have thought that last hit fractured their skull. No matter. I can finish them off now."
"Leave them alone," Villain growled as Supervillain walked towards them. Hero was theirs and theirs alone.
Supervillain stopped. "Why? I'm just putting a wounded animal out of its misery." Supervillain cocked their head. "Or would you like the honor?"
"You are not to touch a hair on their head, Supervillain." Villain laid Hero down gently.
"Or what?" Supervillain raised their hand once more.
Villain didn't hesitate. They charged, unleashing the power that they had hidden for so long. "They are mine to fight. Mine to hurt. Mine to destroy."
Supervillain's face paled. Villain had hidden so much power. "I didn't mean--"
But Villain didn't care. They were going to ensure that Supervillain never interfered again. The last thing they saw before the darkness enveloped everything around them was Supervillain's terror filled eyes. "I will destroy you. And then Hero will be all mine once more," Villain hissed into the gathering darkness.
You were the healer—the last light of your party. But now your final ally dies in your arms, and there’s no one left to save. The enemy jeers, calling you useless. You look up, eyes hollow and black. The light is gone. The Void answers. You're no longer a cleric. You're something far worse.
Writing Tips
Punctuating Dialogue
✧
➸ “This is a sentence.”
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
“If you tell me, it’s an essay. If you show me, it’s a story.” — Barbara Greene
A list I made just to satisfy my vain cravings for resonating mottos for a secret society I'm working on. Enjoy!
abi in malam crucem: to the devil with you!
ad astra per ardua: to the star by steep paths
ad augusta per angusta: to honors through difficulties
aegis fortissima virtus: virue is the strongest shield
amor vincit amnia: love conquers all things
animo et fide: by courage and faith
arbitrium est judicium: an award is a judgement
aut mors aut victoria: either death or victory
aut vincere aut mori: either victory or death
bello ac pace paratus: prepared in war and peace
bibamus, moriendum est: let us drink, death is certain (Seneca and Elder)
bonis omnia bona: all things are good to the good
cede nullis: yield to no one
cito maturum, cito putridum: soon ripe, soon rotten
consensus facit legem: consent makes law
data fata secutus: following what is decreed by fate (Virgil)
durum telum necessitas: necessity is a hrad weapson
dux vitae ratio: reason is the guide of life
e fungis nati homines: men born of mushrooms
ego sum, ergo omnia sunt: I am, therefore all things are
pulvis et umbra sumus: we are but dust and shadow
quae amissa salva: things lost are safe
timor mortis morte pejor: the fear of death is worse than death
triumpho morte tam vita: I triumph in death as in life
tu vincula frange: break your chains
vel prece vel pretio: for either love or for money
verbera, sed audi: whip me, but hear me
veritas temporis filia: truth is the daughter of time
vero nihil verius: nothing is truer than the truth
vestigia nulla restrorsum: foosteps do not go backward
victus vincimus: conquered, we conquer (Plautus)
sica inimicis: a gger to his enemies
sic vita humana: thus is human life
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* . ───
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💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2
Reference: <Latin for the Illiterati: a modern guide to an ancient language> by Jon R. Stone, second edition, 2009
Age: 18 | he/him I'm gonna write this so I don't have to say it every two stories: If you want to reblog my stories or prompts, feel free. If you want to add to them, feel free to. Everything I write here is basically written with the implied non-commercial copyright. As long as you properly credit me, have fun with these stories.
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