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sunnynwanda · 4 hours

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Heal me

Warnings: slightly suggestive/ kissing, touch starved Villain, sort of hurt/comfort.

Based on and inspired by this wonderful idea by the amazing @aflyingsheepnamedrose. I had to write this, it was simply eating me alive.

Villain's body hits the wall, sliding down onto the concrete floor with a loud thud. They groan, every limb of theirs aching with dull pain and acute yearning. They cough out blood but cannot stop themself from thinking about the gentle brush of Hero's fingertips against their skin that will follow once the 'battle' is over. They've been deprived of it for far longer than they could handle, their starved body longing for the pain to be followed by a touch.

Hero lands next to them, fisting their shirt to drag them into a standing position. Villain sags against the wall, heaving through every breath. Yet their injuries have positively nothing to do with the dire need flaming in their veins. It's severe, all-consuming, and it terrifies the living light out of them. Villain craves Hero's touch with the entirety of their being. Villain craves Hero.

"Think you should surrender?" Hero suggests, eyeing Villain with a hint of concern in their bright blue eyes. Their fingers feel almost tender when they curl around Villain's chin, lifting it up so their intent gaze can inspect their buttered face.

"Not yet," Villain gargles, blood filling their mouth again. They turn away, spitting it out before meeting Hero's eyes, a pleasant thrill feeling their lungs at the sight of Hero's distress.

"I won't..." Hero wants to say they won't keep up the vicious cycle they found themselves in. They won't fight Villain anymore - only to spend the following night healing them with their touch. Hero wants Villain to know that they can't keep hurting them, that it tears them apart in ways they never imagined possible, and that it is the reason they've been avoiding them. That they cannot handle witnessing - worse yet, inflicting - their pain. They want to say that Villain doesn't need injuries to have Hero showering them with kisses. They want to tell Villain they need them safe and sound, not beaten and buttered. Hero needs Villain.

But they don't say that. They can't. Instead, they threaten. "Surrender, or I won't heal you anymore."

Villain has to restrain themself from outright begging. They press their lips together, nodding shortly, and avert their eyes, gulping as their mind runs at a hundred miles a minute. Hero's hands let go of their shirt and Villain exhales shakily, shutting their eyes to suppress the shudder raking through their entire being. Something inside them quivers, helpless and desperate. Villain decides to call it disappointment, but then Hero's arms wrap around them, picking them off the ground with close to no effort.

Villain knows it's not disappointment, because the quiver in their chest grows stronger, thrashing against their ribs with unabated persistence. They refuse to open their eyes as Hero carries them all the way to their apartment and straight to their bedroom.

They lay Villain down on their bed and sit beside them, cupping their jaw with a cold hand. "Vil..." Hero's voice is small, and - if Villain didn't know better - they'd think it sounds choked up. "Look at me."

Villain groans, peeling their eyes open. The sight that greets them leaves their heart throbbing in their throat. Hero's eyes are brimming with tears, and their lips are trembling when they lean in, pressing them to Villain's forehead. They pull away, only to plant a kiss on Villain's split eyebrow, then shift to their bruising cheekbone, over to the other one - the small cut on it heals in mere seconds.

Villain watches them with bated breath, biting the inside of their cheek to keep any sounds from escaping them. Hero's hand on their jaw moves, tilting their head up as their lips trail down Villain's neck, ghosting over their collarbones. Villain registers a wet sensation on their skin but fails to process what it is until it drips down the base of their throat, leaving a damp trail in its wake.

Another drop hits Villain's burning skin, then one more. Their nemesis chooses to ignore them as their hands make quick work of Villain's shirt, pushing it open and trailing their lips down Villain's chest, fixing a broken rib back into place.

"Hero?" Villain can't help it when their hands take hold of Hero's head, lifting it off their body. Their tear-stained face wrecks Villain's heart worse than any injury could.

"I can't." Hero mutters in explanation, leaning down to plant another tender kiss onto Villain's feverish skin, their hands gripping their enemy's sides with uncharacteristic urgency. "I can't..."

"Hero, please," the pleading tone of their voice seems to snap Hero out of it as they withdraw hastily, their eyes widening. Villain moves to sit up.

"I'm sorry, I was... t-that was the last cut, y-you're all good now," Hero stutters out, panic contorting their face into a mask of horror. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Villain can't help the chuckle that escapes them at that conclusion. Their fingers brush through Hero's hair, earning a soft sigh from their nemesis. "I wasn't exactly trying to protest the kisses."

"You were not?" Hero repeats, their gaze finally daring to land on Villain as the criminal shakes their head. "I thought you wanted me to stop." Hero confesses, their head dropping, only to be brought back up again.

"No way in hell." The words fly out of their mouth before Villain can process them. They cannot bring themself to care about the consequences at this point. Not when Hero's hands are rubbing their sides unconsciously, not when they can still feel Hero's tears on their skin. "If you ask me, you don't have to stop, ever."

"What?" Hero's gaze darts back and forth between Villain's lips and eyes, wheels turning in their head as Villain watches them with a small smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. They bite their lip to keep their grin under control but fail miserably.

"You heard me," Villain states, causing Hero to roll their eyes. "Why were you crying?"

Hero freezes like a deer in headlights. Villain lets out an amused chuckle, still holding Hero's face in their hands. And, when Hero doesn't respond, Villain decides to take matters into their own hands.

"Can you heal one more cut for me?" They ask, barely containing the cheeky smile threatening to break onto their face any minute now.

Hero nods, their expression shifting into that of worry. "Yes. 'Course I can. Where?"

Villain doesn't utter a word, instead pointing to their bitten lip. They also give up on keeping a neutral expression, allowing the smug smirk to stretch in full glory.

Now that leaves Hero speechless and gaping. For several seconds, they stare at Villain in disbelief, their heart pounding heavily in their ribcage.

"Are you gonna let me bleed o-"

Villain's playful remark is cut short when Hero lunges at them, connecting their lips with more force than Villain anticipated. They fall onto their back, with Hero landing on top of them as they focus on healing Villain's 'dreadful' injury with painstaking dedication.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

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sunnynwanda · 3 days

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Facing The Facts: Resources on the Armenian Genocide

Frequently Asked Questions About Armenian Genocide

Sample Archival Documents on the Armenian Genocide: U.S. Archives

Sample Archival Documents on the Armenian Genocide: British Archives

Map of the 1915 Armenian Genocide in the Turkish Empire

Talaat Pasha's Official Orders Regarding the Armenian Massacres, March 1915-January 1916

The Massacre of the Armenians (”Ambassador Morgenthau describes the forced evacuation of one group of Armenians from their homeland to the Syrian desert.”)

American Documents

British Documents

Russian Documents

French Documents

Austrian Documents

Public Lectures

Eye Witnesses

The Turkish Woman

That is all right, but who killed hundred of thousands Armenians?

Einar af Wirsen

The Story of Anna Hedwig Bull, an Estonian Missionary of the Armenian Genocide.

"That's How It Was"

ARAB EYEWITNESS FAYEZ ALGHUSSEIN ABOUT THE ARMENIAN GENOCIDE

Report by an Eye-Witness, Lieutenant Sayied Ahmed Moukhtar Baas

Letters of Turkish doctors addressed to the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Turkey

Martyred Armenia: Eyewitness account of the Armenian genocide by Faiz El-Ghusein a Turkish official

PHOTO COLLECTION OF ARMENIAN GENOCIDE

#armenian genocide #armenian history #april 24 #remembrance day #educate yourself

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sunnynwanda · 3 days

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Errors in translation

“Herzchen, stop that,” Villain frowns, dodging the car that flies right over their head. “That asshat needs to die, you know that better than anyone.”

“The fuck did you just call me?” Hero catches a piece of debris mid-air, stopping it from crushing the man shaking on the ground. Pathetic. "That asshat is still a governmental official. You can’t just kill him off.“

"It means idiot in my mother tongue,” Villain makes another attempt to crush the corrupt judge, failing when the Hero covers the aforementioned asshat with their own body. “He let a serial killer go!”

“I know that!” Hero screams at the top of their lungs, pissed off both at Villain and the judge. The latter deserved every torture Villain could inflict on them. Hero couldn’t deny that. “Killing him won’t fix it.”

“It will if his successor knows what happened to him.” They weren’t wrong, though Hero would never admit to it. But they needed Villain’s reputation to be clean of murder. Ever since they had agreed to collaborate in ensuring safety for the city. Villain’s official reason was their desire to be the sole criminal of the city. Hero knew they wanted a safe place for their little sister, that now lived with them. And Hero would have less work to do, making it a win-win situation.

“Let me deal with this, okay?” Hero requests, gracing Villain with their pleading puppy eyes. Always works.

“Ugh, do whatever you want, just stop looking at me like that!” They exclaim, taking a step back. “You’re disgusting.”

Hero shakes their head to keep a smile from forming on their face when they hear a whimper from behind them. Ugh, the asshat.

Keep reading

#1 year reblog #hero x villain community #mutual pining #languages #native tongues #terms of endearment #full offense #writers on tumblr #women writers #writeblr #requests open #sunnynwanda

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sunnynwanda · 9 days

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Something Blue

Warnings: I assume none, but if you notice something, let me know! Light angst romance, basically. Heavily based on/ inspired by VOILÀ - Something blue.

The wind is harsh against Villain’s face, prickling his skin with each cold blow. The crisp air bites into his lungs, filling them alongside the deep-settled tightness. When Villain reaches the central square, the sun is high in the sky, but the air lacks the warmth expected from a spring day. She hates it when the noons are this chilly.

The square is already full to the brim, a good half of the city there to witness Hero’s wedding. She’s always been a crowd favourite, and the groom being the mayor’s son only brought more publicity to the event. And Villain… Villain would never be good enough. He hisses at the annoying voice in the back of his head to quiet. The same voice that prompted him to leave before she could, to let her go before he got hurt. He takes in the grandeur of the cathedral, its enormous oak doors decorated with flower arrangements. It looks magnificent. She hates big weddings and magnolias.

It doesn’t take much time to round the square and sneak into the cathedral through a back door. The reality of it all seems to hit Villain much harder once he steps inside. Coming here today was a bad idea. Villain’s fingers curl into fists, his breathing coming out in frantic huffs as he climbs the stairs. A part of him considers turning around right this instant, but he doesn’t allow himself to. Not today. He won’t be a coward again.

He walks past several ajar doors before coming to a halt in front of the only closed one. With a deep breath, Villain pushes it open. Hero is standing in front of a full-length mirror, and she looks stunning. His breath hitches in his throat, every single thought leaving his mind the second his eyes lock onto her form. She doesn’t seem to notice him yet, so he shuts the door behind his back, careful not to make any noise as he steps closer. She keeps fidgeting with the hair framing her face in soft brown waves. She hates having her hair up.

Villain stops behind her, his mind racing. He rakes a hand through his hair, brushing the dark strands back from his forehead, and before his brain can comprehend what he’s doing, his arm wraps around her middle, pulling her back against his chest.

“You look beautiful,” his voice murmurs against her ear. Hero shudders, her eyes flying up to meet his gaze through the mirror. Her lips press into a thin line. Don’t do this to me. Villain’s arm tightens around her. “Absolutely ravishing.”

“Don’t lie,” Hero leans back into him, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder. “White was never my colour. Good thing I don’t own this dress.” She shrugs, her tone a tad too impassive for his liking.

Villain lets out a light chuckle, yet his sharp eyes remain pained. He wouldn’t give a damn what she wore if only it was him with her. “It’s something borrowed then?”

“What?” Hero tilts her head to look at him, still wrapped in his arms. Her eyebrow raises quizzically, when he doesn’t loosen his hold. She hates the way his body fits against hers so well.

“You know how that thing goes? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Villain lists, not registering when his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles into her forearm.

She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her hazy brown eyes. Villain’s chest tightens as he watches her expression. He loved how her eyes would shine, and her nose would scrunch when she laughed with her full heart. How she laughed with him.

“I'm the old, and he's the new,” he explains, pausing to swallow the lump of emotions in his throat. “And since he gave you the borrowed dress, I figured it should be me that gives you something blue.”

Hero’s heart slams against her ribcage with a savage force. She wants to push him away, to yell at him, to demand for him to leave and never show his face again after how he abandoned her for idiotic reasons. Instead, her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek. “Oh?”

“Remember the time when I bought you a locket in the flea market?” Villain recalls, watching her breathing pattern go from frenzied to still. Hero goes rigid in his arms, her irises blown wide, not daring to take a breath in for fear of losing it entirely. “Where did it go?”

“I- I must have lost it,” her voice is small, words tumbling off her lips almost unconsciously.

“Feels symbolic, don’t you think?” Villain’s hands leave her body as he pulls the locket with a blue stone embedded in its ornaments out of his pocket. He moves her hair to the side and fastens the clasp, his fingers brushing against the side of her neck in a tender touch. He gulps, his darkened eyes locking onto the reflection of her watering ones. “Like losing your love and having to watch it.”

He can’t stop himself as his head dips into the crook of her neck, eyebrows furrowing when his lips leave a lingering kiss against her bare shoulder, sending a chill of goosebumps along her spine.

Hero lets out a shaky exhale, averting her eyes from the mirror. She hates that he is here. She hates that he’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt. She hates that he looks dashing, too. She hates how perfect they look together. She hates how he could… “It’s cold for a wedding, isn’t it?”

Villain withdraws despite his reluctance, his fingers twitching to take hold of her again until he wraps his arm around her waist. “Are your feet getting cold?” He attempts to sound lighthearted, but the quiver of his voice gives it all away.

Hero shakes her head, her dejected expression wrenching Villain’s heart in a way he didn’t think possible before. “They were never warm in the first place.”

He doesn’t know how to take that. He doesn’t know how to take any of this anymore. It feels like the sky is shattering over his head, burying him alive.

“There's something I must confess,” Hero whispers as if saying it louder would mar the sanctity of the cathedral walls. She disentangles from Villain’s arms, stepping towards the door as Canon in D begins playing. “I wish it was you instead.”

She offers him one last glance before stepping out the door, a trembling hand clasped over her mouth to keep the sobs raking through her body from escaping.

Her words echo in Villain’s mind like a tocsin as he rushes through the doors, only to catch a glimpse of her as she begins walking down the aisle. He walks in, remaining at the doors as she reaches the altar. He knows he should wait on the priest to give him the time to speak, but his stomach is in knots, adrenaline rushing through his blood like a fire ready to burn the damn church down.

Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today…

“To watch a big mistake,” Villain’s voice booms through the nave of the cathedral, reflecting off of the vault and spilling down onto the guests’ heads, which snap to stare at him as he steps forward.

“I'm not gonna hold my peace,” Villain meets Hero’s tormented gaze, her throat closing in as she sees his face contorted in a mixture of pain and desperation. “I’m not gonna…” He pauses, his breath hitching when the flames reach his chest, burning a hole through his lungs. “What I mean to say is, my feelings haven't changed.”

Hero’s blood runs cold. She’s frozen in place, watching him approach her with an unreadable expression while her groom growls something in her ear with a displeased expression. For better or for worse, Villain can’t hear what he’s saying to her.

He knows coming here today was a bad idea. Watching Hero today was supposed to desecrate whatever was left of his heart, to wreck the shrine of her in his chest, to utterly and wholly rip him apart.

But...

But then she takes his hand, meeting his pleading gaze as tears brim her eyes. Villain brings her hand up, pressing it to his lips before pulling her towards him as they sprint down the aisle. He leads her out through the same back door he came through and along narrow sidestreets away from the crowded square. By the time her groom stops throwing a fit, Hero is in Villain’s car as he drives them out of the city, his hand still clutching hers tightly. He brings it up to his lips again, turning to look at Hero, cast in the afternoon sun. She looks otherworldly with her hair down, playing in the wind.

“White is absolutely your colour,” he mutters softly, his eyes darting down to his shirt on her, her dress left somewhere along the road.

Hero snorts, shaking her head as she shifts closer, leaning her head on his shoulder, her hand in his tight hold. He still can’t wrap his head around the events of the day, but he can lace his fingers through hers. He can kiss the tip of her nose and make her scrunch it as she giggles. He can kiss her smiling lips over and over again. He can pull her into his chest and hold her close to his heart.

Villain will be damned if he lets go again.

Masterlist

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sunnynwanda · 9 days

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Repent

Warnings: betrayal, torture, public punishment, sexual undertones.

Hero was a fool.

And they knew it too.

They were a fool for letting Villain in. They were a fool for allowing Villain to kiss them and a fool for kissing them back. They were dumb enough to trust it was real.

They were a fool for letting Villain rock into their body late at night. They were a fool for kissing every inch of Villain's skin. Even more so - for sneaking into the enemy's lair for that.

They sensed something was off. From the way Villain enjoyed leaving bruises on their chest too much. They felt a chill run along their spine when they racked their nails down Villain's back and heard them whisper - You'll pay for this.

They are paying now. On their knees, with their hands tied over their head. They are paying for every second of weakness.

They still remembered the feeling of Villain's fingertips digging into their thighs. Yet that wasn't what they hated most. It wasn't the pain either. The whip swishes through the air, tearing into their reddened skin. The wound heals in mere seconds, only to be torn open again. And again. And again. Endless.

They squeeze their eyes shut, teeth digging into their lip until they taste blood. They have been paying for their sins every day for over a month. Ever since the dark side took over their city, turning the central square into an execution zone and Hero - into a living example of torture and terror. Not one civilian they'd saved over the years had attempted to show them mercy. Some were enjoying the show, some even participated.

Yet what wrecked them the most was their own being. Their gift of healing turned into a curse rather quickly. As did Villain's voice that kept repenting in their head. Their mind wouldn't stop playing tricks on them as if their tormentors didn't do enough. They would hear apologies for what was done to them. Promises to get them out. To come back for them. To end their suffering - one way or another.

But none of it was real.

None would come true.

None could stop the whip from meeting their back.

Masterlist

#1 year reblog #I missed the date again #but oh well #hero x villain community #whump #betrayal #women writers #writers on tumblr #requests open #sunnynwanda

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sunnynwanda · 10 days

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Last Line Tag!

Thank you @crow-with-a-typewriter for this tag! I decided to do a piece from my main WIP, which everyone got a glimpse of in the Legends of Vishaps snippets (The Escape and The Beginning (those happen before the events of my WIP). I tried to cut the scene but it's somewhat long, so bear with me :)

“Get out of here, both of you.” George's face is expressionless when he speaks, but the wobble in his voice reveals his state. “Now!”

Sar meets his gaze for a short moment before grabbing Amber’s forearm and pulling her after him. He doesn’t stop until they reach Mrs Fora’s house and doesn’t loosen his grip on her wrist until they are inside. Amber expects him to lead her through the tunnel to the keep, but he does not. Instead, he lets go of her arm and sits by the fireplace, covering his face with both hands. She feels guilt tugging at her heart when she watches him. He did not deserve this. Out of everyone in this godforsaken place, Sar was the last person she would want to hurt. She crosses the room, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Sar,” Amber musters, unsure if a proper hug will be welcomed. She sits by his side, hugging his shoulders with one arm. He shakes his head with a bitter smile, and she repeats. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left without a warning.”

“You don’t feel safe in the castle with us,” he states. It’s not a question but Amber wants to argue regardless. She wants to assure him that if there is one person that she feels safe with, it’s him. Sar shushes her with a short gesture.

“I don’t blame you. There is a lot you don’t know.” He claims, his eyes finally meeting hers. He longs to tell her everything. It’s obvious letting her remember on her own wasn’t working as anticipated. There was no easy way around this, and they could only nivellate it so much. Perhaps ripping the scab off the wound and letting the pus out would be better.

“If you wish to stay in town, you can stay here.” Amber is stunned into silence, which makes Sar chuckle. “It’s not much, but it should work better than the inn.”

She takes a moment to consider the offer and nods in agreement.

“Told you, I’m the smartest.” Sar grins at her, despite knowing this is a temporary solution. He’s not sure how much time they have left. George has been overwrought since yesterday evening. The squad they had sent out was delayed; his conversation with Amber went miserably sour, and then, when he went to check on her, he discovered she was gone. They had spent the night searching for her, starting from every nook in the castle and extending further into the city as dawn neared.

The door swings open and slams shut behind George’s back. Sar gets up, giving her shoulder a squeeze, and mouths a ‘Good luck’ before disappearing into the tunnel. Luck is something she is sure to require, Amber thinks as she turns around to face George, but the young man doesn’t spare her a glance. His eyes glimmer with anger when she opens her mouth.

“Don’t even dare,” George snarls, pacing the room like a trapped animal. His nostrils are flaring as he tries to breathe deeply, but the lump in his throat doesn’t allow it. He runs his hands through his hair to concentrate on the pending issue. The rest can wait. Or so he hopes. “How can you do this to them?”

Amber ignores his question, facing away from him as she stares at the tapestry on the wall. George can feel he is close to completely losing it. His pulse is throbbing in his ears, obscuring any external sounds from reaching his brain. He restrains himself from hurling a pillow at her or, better yet, punching the nearest wall. His eyelids drop, shutting the world and her out of his mind. When he finally speaks, Amber jumps at the change in his voice.

“If you want to hate me - fine, do as you please.” George did not intend to sound so broken – he hates that weakness with the entirety of his being. But he felt the change this morning. The air was too thin, the sky was a strange shade of grey, and water vibrated differently around his hands when he submerged them in the fountain. The familiarity of it set tight in the pit of his stomach. He knew what was coming. And he was not ready for that meeting. “I know you think you are alone in this world, but you are not. You have no idea what being truly alone feels like. They have always been by your side, no matter what. They are not your enemy, I can swear on that. If you are desperate to find an enemy, take me. Hate me, yell at me, curse me, hit me if you have to. But don’t be rude to people who did so much to protect you.”

Amber lets out a dark laugh, turning on her heels and casting a glance over him. George thinks he must look pathetic to her. “Protect me? Is that what you call that?” His lips part in question when she interrupts it. “Sar has offered me to live here. I accepted.”

“What- you can’t,” As much as George wanted it to sound like an order, it was a plea. You can’t do that. Not to them. Not to me. You can’t leave. He knows it’s not the castle he is thinking about right now. He can almost hear the giant wings flapping, cutting through the air like sharp glass. His tongue stings with the familiar taste of salt, and his skin prickles at the memory of blood and oil mixing on his forehead. He can smell the dampness of the earth and the smoke from burning reeds that fill his lungs. He can feel the sensation of the cold metal touching his skin as chains are wrapped around his neck and wrists.

“Leave me alone,” Amber demands, meeting his gaze to let him know she is aware of her control over him. Go away. Now! His limbs obey the order against his will, pulling George up and turning him towards the tunnel when Sar rushes through the door with a wild look in his eyes. He reaches them in two long strides, hands trembling as he catches his breath.

“It’s back.”

It’s all Sar manages to utter before multiple cries of horror fill the air. People start running around, hurrying to grab the kids and hide in their basements. The sky goes dark in a matter of seconds, but before she can react, a screeching sound floods Amber’s ears. She screams, covering them with her palms, but notices that Sar is unaffected. When she turns to George, his face is torn between dread and determination. He knew it was coming.

Yet he did not expect it to happen so soon.

No pressure tag: @thiefofthecrowns

I'm not sure who to tag (who'd be willing to share, that is). If you have a WIP and want to share, let me know! I'd love to read :)

#writing #mythology #creative writing #original fiction #wip #my writing #tag game #writeblr #writers on tumblr #requests open #sunnynwanda

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sunnynwanda · 12 days