Chaotic-scraps - Typing...

In fairy tales and fantasy, two types of people go in towers:  princesses and wizards.

Princesses are placed there against their will or with the intention of ‘keeping them safe.’ This is very different from wizards, who seek out towers to hone their sorcery in solitude.

I would like a story where a princess is placed in an abandoned tower that used to belong to a wizard, and so she spends long years learning the craft of wizardry from the scraps left behind and becomes the most powerful magic wielder the world has seen in centuries, busts out of the tower and wreaks glorious, bloody vengeance on the fools that imprisoned her. 

That would be my kind of story.

Villain: I'm a villain, darling. My motives hardly matter. Hero: They matter to me.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Beast (Part 4)

The soft hum of cooling fans and the clacking of keys were the only sound in the small and dimly lit room. A CCTV feed trained on a small kennel displayed on a screen in the far corner. The villain glanced over at the first sign of movement.

Their patient was waking up, but they would have to wait. The villain was on the verge of a discovery.

Their patient's blood had been genetically modified. Expertly, gorgeously. Though the effects seemed to be leveling out over time, their muscular growth was abnormally rapid. Any small injuries showed accelerated healing.

The growth affected their larynx, unfortunately. Given the patient was able to preserve a certain level of cognition, other organs adjusted appropriately...

Loss of speech was a... Strange side effect.

The bones and muscles were proportionately mutated, practically symmetrical. Organs matched the rapid growth of the body. Their patient grew into a theoretically sustainable form. The fact that they survived at all was a miracle.

Their patient might not be so lucky if they attempt to revert back.

Whoever was responsible did not stop at one. The mutation was much too precise and refined. This was a team and decades of research. Money.

So, who had the resources for this kind of human experimentation?

The MRI offered something of a clue. A small device, implanted at the base of the patient's skull. Whoever set this transformation into motion expected the patient to roam free. The villain extracted the device too late, well over 24 hours. It was active.

Someone would come to collect their experiment soon.

The villain best prepare for their guest.

-

The hero paced the kennel with growing panic. They had misjudged the villain's capacity for harm, clearly. They kept running their hands along the stitches on the back of their head.

Breath in. Breath out.

They needed a plan of escape.

The floor and walls were solid concrete. Thick iron bars reenforced the door. There was a small gap between the door and floor. A much larger gap between the iron bars and the ceiling. Not large enough to squeeze through.

The first rule of imprisonment, find your captor's motive. Their eyes flicked to the CCTV trained on their kennel. There wasn't enough room to escape, but their inhumanly long claws could reach the camera.

They smiled devilishly. If their captor wanted to spy, they'd have to work for it. They climbed up the iron bars and reached for the small camera. Their claws clamped around the device, and they yanked.

Wiring crackled as the connections snapped.

They threw the camera on the concrete as hard as they could. Surprisingly sturdy.

Good.

They grabbed the camera and beat it against the ground, over and over, until it cracked into was a mess of circuitry and plastic. They imagined the villain's skull.

Shouting down the hall, followed by a loud THUD.

Silence.

The hero readied themselves to lunge, but they stopped short.

Their breath caught at the unexpected figure before them.

"Hero, it's me. I've come to save you."

The hero sobbed in relief.

Superhero.

AN// Thank you so much for reading and asking to be tagged @sausages-things @whump-till-ya-jump @jumpywhumpywriter @galaxysmask !!!

CW: Violence

Beware, friend

story by @yeehawpim and illustrated by @rvicta

"You chose a bad day to infiltrate my base," the villain says.

"Because you're planning something?" The hero demanded. "I've seen people in and out all day. What are you up to?"

"It's a holiday, Hero, in case you've forgotten," the villain sighed. "I'm just trying to survive my family."

"O-oh." The hero looked lost in thought. "I, um, forgot."

"You know what?" The villain put an arm around their shoulder. "You might as well join. Everyone else wants to poke their nose where it doesn't belong. You'll fit right in."

"Oh, no, that's okay." The hero's eyes went wide at the crowd they were being dragged to, digging their heels. "This is for family, and I really should be going--"

"I'm introducing you as my fiancee," the villain stated with a mischievous grin. "Aunt Bertha will hate you."

The Hero dodged. Too slow, the Dark Lord swung down his battle ax and cleaved a rock in half. The Hero went for his opening, but the Dark Lord parried. The Hero jumped over another swing, then feinted an attack. The Dark Lord anticipated the feint and swung at the Hero's sword's mid-arc, sending it flying. The Hero stumbled back from the blow, then rolled when the ax came down where he fell.

The Hero retrieved his fallen sword and smiled cockily. "I can do this all day."

The Dark Lord froze at that. The Hero launched into another attack. Dark Lord halfheartedly blocked his blow. Another attack. Block. It felt slow and deliberate, like a training exercise.

"What's wrong? Getting tired?" The Hero snarked.

The Dark Lord planted his ax in the ground. The Hero sensed something was different and stepped back. The two foes apprehensively waited for the other to make a move.

That's when the Dark Lord removed his helmet.

"I am," he said simply. He tossed his helmet to the side. "I am getting tired."

"You think it can just end? Like that?!" The Hero shouted. "After everything you did?!"

The Dark Lord's glowing eyes bore into his.

He picked up one of the skulls littering the ground around them, and tossed it to the Hero's feet.

"Whose bodies litter these battle grounds?" The Dark Lord growled. "Did you ever wonder?"

The Hero stared down at the skull.

"Ours," the Hero said lightly. He kicked the skull back. "A millennia of reincarnations made to come here and die over and over."

The Dark Lord stepped on the skull. It cracked, then crumbled into dust. "You're ready to do this for another millennia?"

The Hero faltered then. "As long as it takes," he whispered.

"As long as it takes for what?" The Dark Lord said.

"I... I just want to rest," the Hero admitted. "But time and time again, you razed my village and destroyed everything I love. You've taken everything, and now you get to call it quits and say you're tired? I've been tired this whole time."

"Your village turned away my people when we had nothing," the Dark Lord said. "We took what we needed by force."

"Don't you dare try to come off as the victim--" the Hero started in, but the Dark Lord interjected.

"We were desperate, and turned to forces we never should have trifled with. In turn, so have yours. Neither us have known love and peace since this started."

"Quit trying to act like we're the same," the Hero snarled, but there was a broken edge.

"We need to end the cycle," The Dark Lord said, and started towards him.

The Hero narrowed his eyes and raised his sword. The Dark Lord, undeterred, loomed above him. The Hero shook.

"Run me through, Hero," the Dark Lord said. "Slake your bloodlust. I will come back as many times as it takes."

The Hero held out his sword. The Dark Lord bared his throat and closed his eyes. A bead of blood dripped from where the blade grazed his throat.

The sword clattered to the ground.

The Dark Lord tilted his head.

"I don't want this," the Hero said.

The Dark Lord held out his hand. "It's time to rebuild, then."

The Hero took it. "I'll hold you to that."

You and the Dark Lord are destined to be reincarnated to fight fight one another throughout time. After 1000 years of fighting, the two of you decide to sit down and actually discuss an end to this conflict.

The vampire spat out your blood. "God, what have you been eating?!"

The villain found the hero stocking cans in Big Box Store.

"Is this why I haven't seen you lately?" The villain asked disappointingly.

"Heroism doesn't pay," the hero said. "My folks want me doing something more practical with my time."

The villain leaned on a shelf. "They do if you work for the Agency."

The hero grunted and plopped a particularly enormous box down. "The Agency rejected me multiple times. I have to- ugh -earn money somehow." They sliced the box open violently. "Besides, you think those hospital visits were cheap?! Move over. You're blocking the shelf."

"Wow, someone's a little grumpy," the villain said. They shifted to block the shelves even more.

The hero slammed down a can. "I told you to MOVE OVER--"

"Hero!" Someone barked.

Hero froze. The manager.

"I am deeply sorry for their behavior," the manager hurriedly said to the villain. "Hero, you do not under any circumstances raise your voice at one of our guests. That is not Big Box Store behavior. Apologize this instant or consider this your dismissal."

"Sorry," the hero mumbled.

The manager glared expectantly.

"I'm very sorry," the hero tried again. "I should not have raised my voice. It was not a reflection of Big Box Store values, and it will not happen again."

The manager gave a satisfied nod and left.

"... You think I can get them to make you kiss my shoes?" the villain snorted.

The hero launched at them.

By the time the fight was over, half the canned foods aisle was in shambles. Needless to say, the villain had their nemesis back the next day.

However, the hero started receiving a generous stipend from an anonymous benefactor, making the job search a bit less urgent...

"P-please don't kill me," Hero whispered.

Villain recoiled. "Who said anything about killing you?"

"You did. Multiple times. You have a knife to my throat."

"That-- THAT WAS FLIRTING!" Villain shouted in exasperation.

"WHO FLIRTS LIKE THAT?!" Hero screamed.

"Ugh. This is all wrong." Villain cut Hero's ropes and put away the knife. "Listen, I completely misread the situation. Just... Just go."

"Wait, no, we need to talk about--"

"There's nothing to talk about," Villain said quickly.

"Yes, we do! Clearly we need to communicate!"

"No. Let me die of embarrassment alone," Villain grumbled. They moved to leave, but something slapped their wrist. A handcuff.

"You're not going anywhere," Hero said, tightening the other cuff to their own wrist.

"Did you just CUFF ME?" Villain screeched.

"We're going out and having a proper date WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT."

God, I just love these little pink munchkins and this tired lil rodent mom

It's hard being a single mom of four to eight kids (she's bad at math)

Also self imposed design challenge to design an infant rodent that doesn't look like eraserhead baby