coonhoundcat
Black Cat Rust
Coon or Hound- He/They and Aesthetically Gay | Writing little Things | Open to Friendship | Adult (struggling) | Trying to Afford Medical Junk
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Maybe the real treasure was the boops we made along the way
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❗️❗️❗️
Your mission: reblog if you think: boop should stay
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(Photo IDs in alt text)
(this is for everyone but especially queer, LGBT+, trans, “cringy”, disabled, fat, BIPOC/BBIMP, otherwise marginalized and/or non “normative” communities, identities, and people. we love you all 💜. ~Nico)
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|| This is maybe not the continuation anyone was expecting, but by golly, it's the one I wanted to write (albeit messily). I highly encourage anyone reading this to also check out the version of this prompt that @hobbyistauthor ran with, because it is amazing and beautiful. :3 Also, this is written in a more 'removed' style than I generally use for snippets, because sometimes it's fun to play narrator. ||
Dead leaves skittered across the decrepit road, a few loose shingles flapping along the roofs of the row of run-down houses. A light frost crusted the pavement weeds and the asphalt puddles had gone crisp.
Thames considered the carnage outside their front door.
Black fur, and red. Quite a lot of red.
The sweater-clad individual took a step back, and closed the door.
They turned around.
A chilly draft crept up behind them.
They turned back, and opened the door again.
It had pointed ears.
Thames left the door open and retreated to the kitchen, where they hesitated just long enough to mourn the life of the perfectly good (if a bit molded) mop stood up in the corner of the closet-pantry. They returned to the porch.
Mrs. Hamashaw was not the next-door neighbor; nor, in fact, the next-door neighbor's neighbor-- though any casual observer (or careless resident) of Mayford Street could be forgiven for believing otherwise.
She was precisely the type of person who would appear on the pavement outside of a house at the most inopportune moments, and whilst wearing ankle warmers, a beanie, and very short, very grey hair.
She was also the type of person to give very little warning.
"Beautiful morning! Isn't it, dear?"
"Jesus-" The tired creature fumbled with the mop handle, swore again, and made a rather violent kicking motion before jerking around to face the visitor; grimace only deepening at the loud, slick thump of something landing heavily in the dirt.
Thames attempted their best impression of a smile, hands fisted painfully tight around the aged wood.
"…… Mrs. Hamashaw. Didn't-" they shuffled a little inconspicuously to the left, "-didn't expect to see you, this morning."
Mrs. Hamashaw smiled brightly, entirely unbothered. "Well, you didn't think a bit of chill could keep me indoors, did you? I'm not that far gone yet, dear-" she cupped a hand to her cheek conspiratorially, leaning in with all the flourish of a back gone bad two decades ago, "Though I have told the kids to stop bringing me green bananas, if you know what I mean… One of these days I'm simply not going to get up-- and what with Charlie out on his bed rest, that'll make two of us, and I'm simply not paying for in-house care…"
Thames inched carefully away from the edge of the porch, toward the steps.
"But that's why two of the kids are moving back in, you see-- and not a moment too soon, really; not with the wildlife acting up-" she patted her hip firmly, drawing attention to what appeared to be a full bottle of mace, "I'm comfortable enough on my little walks, but it's much safer living with company."
Mrs. Hamashaw stared at them pointedly, and Thames stiffened appropriately.
"Er-"
"You're all alone, dear, and I'm concerned for your safety--not to mention your well-being."
Thames placed the mop gingerly to the side, "I don't-"
"Out all day, every day, by yourself, no protection what-so-ever-"
They gestured appeasingly, "The work's part-time, actually-"
"-And no-one at home to make sure you come back in one piece; you know I can't keep checking in as often when winter well and truly hits-"
"Mrs. Hamashaw, I'm perfectly-"
"-And if something were to happen to a tenant, I really don't know what I would tell the agencies!"
Thames took a deep breath in, waiting a moment to ensure she was done. Their fingers steepled carefully in front of their face, lightly brushing their chin.
"I told you, Mrs. Hamashaw," they began slowly, "I'm not worried. I'm perfectly fine as-is."
The old woman regarded Thames quietly. Their palms itched.
"Charlie mentioned it might be a bear."
Thames' brow furrowed. "Why would- oh. Right." They frowned deeper.
Mrs. Hamashaw stared the middle-aged creature down, and Thames redoubled their scowl-- hands folding neatly behind their back-- before fidgeting, and moving to tuck themselves in front of their chest instead.
"I've got a firearm somewhere," Thames tried.
Mrs. Hamashaw raised an eyebrow.
"…. I think."
"Look," the bedraggled renter struggled, "What are the odds that I, specifically, am going to encounter a bear, of all things?"
The elderly lady patted Thames' arm kindly. "Dear, there's blood dripping off your porch."
Prompt? 7 | You Know Better
It is inadviseable to leave food out for wild animals.
Hero, for their part, had meant to feed the churchyard dog. It was simply habit that they did not stop after the dog's dissappearance, and it brought a strange kind of comfort that the stained, molded bowl came up empty night after night. In their more religious moments, Hero even imagined that the dog was still visiting the porch-- in whatever etherial, ghostly way a dog of God could, or would.
In their more realistic moments, Hero kicked the bowl under the deck, ashamed that someone might see, or afraid that they might be confronted about the increasing thickness of the resident raccoons.
They knew they'd fucked up when the carcasses of said raccoons started showing up around the nearby properties, heads shredded and ripped into-- but with their organs carefully removed and laid out side-by-side, a neat-and-tidy display; and prominent enough for the neighbors to start noticing. And notice, they did.
#Not really sure anymore if this counts as#heroes and villains#hero x villain community#but the original prompt was given those tags; so-#fantasci#fantasci writing#creative writing#writeblr#writing snippet#fantasci tumblr#villain#original fiction#original writing#fantasy#fantasy writing#enemies to friends trope#It is not; in fact; a bear
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I suppose the thing is (and this may very well be something I've only created in my own head as a Rule for Myself that really need not exist at all), when I write for the Heroes and Villains tag, I generally try to make it very unspecific. I'll allude to bigger society structures and prior relationships, but I make it a point not to name the Hero and the Villain. It is simply what they are, without question. Like you might describe a character as a man, or a preacher, or a purple platypus. It is, for most people (I think), all-encompassing.
The problems begin once the characters have started naming themselves.
Villain is usually always fine, still-- it's the Hero that starts to throw me. Because once they're no longer named 'Hero', I have to question: .... are they? Are they a hero? A hero to who?
They're more of an anti-villain, if such a thing exists. Just a semi-decent person, dealing with something (or someone) outrageous.
As @hobbyistauthor mentions in some of their comments below, it really is more of a enemies-to-lovers thing than a hero-villain thing, I think.
Is enemies-to-lovers an established tag? I feel like it must be. @thepenultimateword, you said there was a tag you folks were trying to get off the ground for a little while-- may I ask what it was?
What are the bounds of the Heroes and Villains Community?
Honestly, I find myself asking the question more and more-- and I haven't a clue what the answer is. What are the requirements? Is it just that there's a character titled 'Hero' and another titled 'Villain'?
What is this genre? IS it a distinct genre? If it's a sci-fi space adventure story that just so happens to have a Hero and a Villain, does it count? What if Hero and Villain are just opposing politicians in a decaying Rat society? What if they're god-like entities making wagers on their followers and subjects? Does that count? When the context is no longer just trappings for a hero-villain relationship, but actually starts to influence how they react to each other and springs a greater plot, does it stop being a hero-villain story? Is hero x villain an aesthetic?
Realistically, I know that there's likely no hard line here-- and that I would do well to only mark things that are more-or-less indisputably suited to the tag; but then I'm faced with the reality that it is the only community I'm genuinely a part of. If my writing isn't tailored to the Heroes and Villains tag, who will read it? Who will care?
I fully admit that this is a terrible way to think about this. People should write what they want to read, the rest of humanity be damned. I shouldn't care.
And yet.
I am a human-shaped creature, with every insecurity and social need that comes with it. I care so deeply. I bloody well hate it.
I want so badly for people to see what I've made, to find something meaningful in it-- and I'm terrified that it's just going to be there, in the ether, doing nothing. Pleasing no one. Invisible. Forgotten.
I shouldn't be surprised.
Everyone puts a bit of themselves into their writing, I think. And no one really wants to be forgotten. Not entirely.
I guess what I'm trying to say, is: I need to find more small-ish communities that align with the various types of rubbish I enjoy producing. Not that I have any intention of leaving the Heroes and Villains tag-- I just have more, unrelated things I'd like to put out there, and I'm afraid of being utterly ignored.
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Prompt? 7 | You Know Better
It is inadviseable to leave food out for wild animals.
Hero, for their part, had meant to feed the churchyard dog. It was simply habit that they did not stop after the dog's dissappearance, and it brought a strange kind of comfort that the stained, molded bowl came up empty night after night. In their more religious moments, Hero even imagined that the dog was still visiting the porch-- in whatever etherial, ghostly way a dog of God could, or would.
In their more realistic moments, Hero kicked the bowl under the deck, ashamed that someone might see, or afraid that they might be confronted about the increasing thickness of the resident raccoons.
They knew they'd fucked up when the carcasses of said raccoons started showing up around the nearby properties, heads shredded and ripped into-- but with their organs carefully removed and laid out side-by-side, a neat-and-tidy display; and prominent enough for the neighbors to start noticing. And notice, they did.
#Oh my WORD#this is bloody AMAZING!#I'd read twenty more pages of this#very well done#I absolutely ADORE your take on this!
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@hobbyistauthor I absolutely love your enthusiasm!
Not gonna lie, I do seem to have a (quite incidentally) growing document of notes and lines related to this little bugger (that may or may not ever see the light of day; but well, it's too soon to say), but I would be pleased as punch if you're inspired to write a continuation yourself! Just don't be too terribly surprised if I also post my own variation at some point in the future. :3
It'd be quite awesome to see the differences and where the two stories diverge. Just please do tag me somewhere-abouts if you do; I would not want to miss reading what you've made!
Prompt? 7 | You Know Better
It is inadviseable to leave food out for wild animals.
Hero, for their part, had meant to feed the churchyard dog. It was simply habit that they did not stop after the dog's dissappearance, and it brought a strange kind of comfort that the stained, molded bowl came up empty night after night. In their more religious moments, Hero even imagined that the dog was still visiting the porch-- in whatever etherial, ghostly way a dog of God could, or would.
In their more realistic moments, Hero kicked the bowl under the deck, ashamed that someone might see, or afraid that they might be confronted about the increasing thickness of the resident raccoons.
They knew they'd fucked up when the carcasses of said raccoons started showing up around the nearby properties, heads shredded and ripped into-- but with their organs carefully removed and laid out side-by-side, a neat-and-tidy display; and prominent enough for the neighbors to start noticing. And notice, they did.
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Prompt? 7 | You Know Better
It is inadviseable to leave food out for wild animals.
Hero, for their part, had meant to feed the churchyard dog. It was simply habit that they did not stop after the dog's dissappearance, and it brought a strange kind of comfort that the stained, molded bowl came up empty night after night. In their more religious moments, Hero even imagined that the dog was still visiting the porch-- in whatever etherial, ghostly way a dog of God could, or would.
In their more realistic moments, Hero kicked the bowl under the deck, ashamed that someone might see, or afraid that they might be confronted about the increasing thickness of the resident raccoons.
They knew they'd fucked up when the carcasses of said raccoons started showing up around the nearby properties, heads shredded and ripped into-- but with their organs carefully removed and laid out side-by-side, a neat-and-tidy display; and prominent enough for the neighbors to start noticing. And notice, they did.
#Not even sure if 'prompt' is the right word for it-- it's just a few lines that wouldn't leave my brain until I trapped them in a document#heroes and villains#hero#creative writing#writeblr#fic prompt#writing prompt#story prompt#hero prompt
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What are the bounds of the Heroes and Villains Community?
Honestly, I find myself asking the question more and more-- and I haven't a clue what the answer is. What are the requirements? Is it just that there's a character titled 'Hero' and another titled 'Villain'?
What is this genre? IS it a distinct genre? If it's a sci-fi space adventure story that just so happens to have a Hero and a Villain, does it count? What if Hero and Villain are just opposing politicians in a decaying Rat society? What if they're god-like entities making wagers on their followers and subjects? Does that count? When the context is no longer just trappings for a hero-villain relationship, but actually starts to influence how they react to each other and springs a greater plot, does it stop being a hero-villain story? Is hero x villain an aesthetic?
Realistically, I know that there's likely no hard line here-- and that I would do well to only mark things that are more-or-less indisputably suited to the tag; but then I'm faced with the reality that it is the only community I'm genuinely a part of. If my writing isn't tailored to the Heroes and Villains tag, who will read it? Who will care?
I fully admit that this is a terrible way to think about this. People should write what they want to read, the rest of humanity be damned. I shouldn't care.
And yet.
I am a human-shaped creature, with every insecurity and social need that comes with it. I care so deeply. I bloody well hate it.
I want so badly for people to see what I've made, to find something meaningful in it-- and I'm terrified that it's just going to be there, in the ether, doing nothing. Pleasing no one. Invisible. Forgotten.
I shouldn't be surprised.
Everyone puts a bit of themselves into their writing, I think. And no one really wants to be forgotten. Not entirely.
I guess what I'm trying to say, is: I need to find more small-ish communities that align with the various types of rubbish I enjoy producing. Not that I have any intention of leaving the Heroes and Villains tag-- I just have more, unrelated things I'd like to put out there, and I'm afraid of being utterly ignored.
#hero x villain community#heroes and villains#villain x hero#hero x villain#hero and villain#villains and heroes
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Prompt 6 | Villain x Hero
"Nonesense. We can just register you as a conduit of crime; a criminal, if you will."
Hero fiddled with their cuff, flipping it inside out and back again, eyeing the metal notice. "I can't…. well, I can't exactly afford the licensing fee, Villain."
Villain grinned wider. "That's the point-- nobody can; and nobody does. Crime's the whole idea of it, yeah?"
#hero x villain community#villain#hero#heroes and villains#villain x hero#hero x villain#creative writing#hero prompt#writing prompt#story prompt#fic prompt
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Peppered Finch 2 | Hero x Villain
|| I wasn't going to post anything more about this. I don't even know what this is, but @hobbyistauthor had to come along and be awesome, and show genuine interest, so here we are. May this bring some amusement, even if only a little. And thank you for being such a beautifully supportive person. ||
Part 1
Hero was not about to spend the initial weeks of their relocation 'sitting about' and retaking 'Danger Awareness' courses, no matter how appealing the option was beginning to look.
"Yes, well; I just mean that it all seems a bit…" There was a heavy hand on their shoulder, and Hero was presently doing a fantastic job at not shrugging it off, or grimacing unpleasantly, or setting fire to the owner, or- or really anything that they really, really wanted to do just about now.
"Silly?" The thick, overly-warm voice grated on their ears, and Hero was suddenly quite proud of the neutral expression they were currently keeping plastered on their face.
"….. That is a word for it."
The hand lifted just enough to pat their shoulder twice-- supposedly sympathetically, before it retreated; allowing Hero to breath a sigh of relief.
"It's for the comfort of the civilians," the large, heroic figure assured, hands suddenly appearing to smooth down the sides of Hero's cape.
Hero didn't quite suppress the shudder.
"Pleasant names, so they know we're there to help-- to bring a little joy, and to ensure some- hmm, separation, as it were. Keep them from getting confused."
There was a little clink as those hands fastened something to the shoulder of Hero's cape, and an immediate shift as they withdrew-- the weight of the addition sagging a little at the cloth.
Hero glanced down at the metal clip, and felt their enthusiasm sink right along with it. Well, they struggled with a smile, a sudden shame at the sullenness broiling in their stomach, it could certainly have been worse.
"Are you sure?"
Hero's eyes flickering back up to the broad, cushy beam-- straining to keep the pleasantness on their own face. The grin only grew wider.
"We do want you well rested and healed up, so that you can return to the more… active parts of your duties." They leaned in.
"…. Quite alright," Hero returned the unblinking stare, the wrist of their right wing shifting slightly to settle the grey-and white speckled cape more firmly over their shoulders. "I'm fully confident that I'm capable of a few house visits." They could feel their superior's eyes linger on the mottled fabric across their stomach, as if they could see through it to the thick sling beneath.
"But thank you for your concern, Captain."
Something pitying crossed the greater hero's face, if only for a moment-- and they leaned back again, smiling as (theoretically) benevolently as ever.
"Such a good hero," a hand patted their shoulder again, whilst a second set of limbs procured a heavy messenger bag; offering it fully to Hero. "Such a dedicated officer. Run along, now-- and don't overexert yourself. Wouldn't want that arm of yours getting any worse."
Hero took the satchel quickly, using the action of slinging it across their chest to hide the grimace settling onto their features. They were too damn old to have an officer this patronizing.
--
The hero folded their hands-- er, well, hand-- neatly behind their back, feeling the light sting of the chilled metal through their glove. The rap of the knocker against the wood echoed through the door and into the brick building beyond, fading into the mild buzz of the street just outside.
They took a half-step back onto the edge of the stoop, shoulders stiffening against the growing chill. Subtly, they shifted their cape; letting the thick, heavy thing drape a little more fully over the arm presently tucked to their stomach.
They didn't wait long for the door to open; a sharp, dark-eyed face peering out of the partial crack between the door and the frame; a bedraggled, fluffed-up creature blinking warily (and quite tiredly) at the outside world-- and, after a moment, at Hero specifically. It took a moment for a firm scowl to settle on their face.
Hero fought to keep something akin to a smile in their own expression. "Citizen Bracket?" They tried, straightening slightly.
The civilian stared blankly at them, and Hero felt their shoulders raise.
"Ah, I'm looking for… er, are you…?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Ah-" Hero rocked back a little, feeling legitimately relieved; despite the civilian's heavy glare. "Yes; of course-- I'm-" their eyes flickered down to the metal pin clinging to their cape, expression souring slightly, "- I'm Officer 'Downey', at your--and the public at large's--service." They extended a hand cordially, waiting patiently for the civilian to take it.
After about thirty seconds, Officer Downey faltered, arm dropping back to their side. "I've just been reassigned to the area, you see-" the citizen was glaring silently at them again, "-and I'm doing a few house visits--a little grunt-work, you're probably familiar--and I've got orders to come see about a matter at this address-" Officer Downey twisted in place, repurposing the rejected hand to rifle clumsily through the messenger bag strapped across their chest, shoving various letters and notes aside- "-let me just find- I'm sure you remember whatever incident it was, probably meant to take a report on it- I just need the official document to verify- yes! Here," they dislodged a pink envelope from the mass of paper, holding it up with a triumphant flourish.
Throwing a quick, reassuring smile at Presumably-Bracket, the hero proceeded to struggle getting the thing open one-handed-- coming away with a few more edges to the note than was originally intended. "That part's, uh, optional-- anyway!" Downey smoothed the letter over as much as possible, eyes scanning the first few lines. "As a licensed and recognized officer of the Agency, a protector of peace, and a servant to the city and country, it is my honor to present the household of 1717 Shefler Street with this….. uh…." The hero looked at the glanced up at the citizen in the doorway, dark eyes boring angrily into their own-- and back down at the paper. They repeated the motion twice more, before swallowing roughly.
"…. I'm afraid you're being evicted."
#hero x villain community#hero#heroes and villains#villain x hero#creative writing#hero x villain#writing snippet#snippet#writeblr#original fiction#original writing#superhero#wingfic
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I feel compelled to note that despite the fact that my Heroes and Villains have no gender to speak of, they are still somehow, inevitably, UNDENIABLY gay; at least in the recesses of my mind. It cannot be helped. It cannot be stopped. It is a fact of existence far stronger and older than I have any hope of resisting, even if I wished to. I have no choice.
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Peppered Finch | Hero x Villain
|| Honestly? Right now, I don't like this. I don't think it's good. But you don't get better at something without absolutely sucking at it, and there will never be a clear line when you become 'good'. So I'm trying to share the things I make, even if they do end up terrible-- because at some point they won't be terrible anymore. But the only way to get there is to keep on at it. ||
"Do you mind terribly?"
The short, well-dressed creature returned the lighter to their inner pocket, taking a long draw from the cigarette between their teeth. A thin sliver of smoke drifted upward, in time with the long, slow curl of the villain's sneering smirk. "No," Villain took another draught, letting the tendrils seep out of the corners of their mouth-- cradling their face in ashy heat. "Not at all."
Oh, the look of disgruntled offense on the hero's face was delightful.
And they were a hero, no doubt about that-- not with the utter height of the Enlisted, and especially the near-white speckled cape draped around their raised shoulders.
Villain raised an eyebrow as the hero pressed forward with a glare, the grin on their own face growing with the salt-and-peppered officer's apparent annoyance.
"Well, I'm on a bit of a schedule-"
Villain snorted noncommittally, and Hero took an indignant step forward, hand disappearing into their coat, "-So I'd appreciate if you'd take this seriously-"
"I'd rather not start something pointless right now, thanks," Villain's smile stiffened, eyes flickering to the subtle movement.
"Really-"
Villain watched the hero draw themselves up in front of them (despite already having the advantage in height), a thrill running through them at the flustered scowl directed their way-- until the sudden shift of the hero's obscured hand.
"Whoever the hell you are, I'm NOT INTERESTED-"
"Look here, I've-" Hero was barely a pace away, and they were drawing their hand back from their coat pocket quickly; fingers clasped around-
Villain's palm slammed into the arm, grip wrapping around the wrist as their other hand came to aid in a sharp twist-- a snap-- there was a shriek- and dual weights crashed into the sides of Villain's head, throwing them backwards with a flash of white and brown-
Villain scrambled against the filthy pavement, back pressed into the brick wall behind them, a stinging pain shooting through their spine-- their hands scrabbled at the asphalt for a moment, a brief, searing pain joining the array of aches as their palm rolled over something long and thin, and Villain flinched back-- frantically shoving their legs back under them enough to launch themselves into something approaching a standing position; slouched heavily against the wall for balance as their head spun, lips pealing back in a snarl as their gaze snapped back to the bastard-
The hero, slumped to their knees on the floor, hand tucked tightly to their chest as they hissed in pain, eyes glaring up at Villain through the beginnings of tears. A piece of paper sat harmlessly on the pavement.
Oh, oh FUCK- Villain nearly missed the two wings splayed out on either side of them, pinkish-tan feathers bristled and bent as they twitched in the dirt, trembling with their owner's pain.
"I've- I've got a letter," Hero spat, voice high and tight, teeth practically bared in an open grimace.
Villain's eyes flickered briefly down to the scrap of white on the floor, before the stifling of a gasp drew their attention immediately back upward-- to where Hero's eyes were boring into their own, brow set in a stern, but pained expression. Villain sank further back into the wall.
"I thought it would be polite," Hero grit out, fingers white where they held fast to their injured arm, nails visibly digging into the flesh, "to inform you in person that I've been assigned to the area;"
Villain cringed, hands open and wavering for a moment-- undecided-- before settling for burrowing into their coat pockets. They winced at the sudden sting in their palm.
"That is," Hero's feathers rustled on the floor, their wings drawing tenderly inward; back beneath their grey-and white cape. "We've been assigned to each other-- by the Agency. They've approved a rivalry."
Oh. Oh, oh. "Ah," Villain swallowed. Well then. "Sucks to be you."
Hero stared at Villain.
Villain stared back.
Villain blinked. That…. that was not what they had intended to say, but-- well. It wasn't wrong, per se-
They lifted a hand from their pocket, gesturing vaguely at the mass of hero heaped in the alleyway.
"Can I…" Villain trailed off, not really sure how to finish that sentence, or what to offer. A splint? An ambulance?
"…. Cigarette?" Villain added weakly, forcing something akin to a smile back onto their face. It didn't last long.
They took a step forward, firmly pushing themselves up from the wall. "Look, I'm-"
"OI, YOU DONE PLAYING POST-MASTER YET?"
Villain stiffened all over again, the most-familiar voice echoing down the stony alleyway-- accompanied by the sounds of footsteps, and when they looked again at the hero-- oh, yes, they knew that voice too, of course they did-- Villain hesitated for just a moment, staring down at the hero; their hero, now-- or rival, at any rate, crouched in the dust, arm cradled to their chest--
and they turned and ran.
Part 2
#hero x villain community#villain#hero#heroes and villains#villain x hero#creative writing#hero x villain#writing snippet#snippet#writeblr#villains and heroes#hero and villain#super hero#wingfic#original writing#original fiction
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"What are you doing here, middle of fuck-all?"
"Well, it's not exactly the middle of- well. Language."
"You called me a 'fucking twat' not five minutes ago."
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Hostages | Villain x Hero
|| It was about time for something much more fluffy. Thank you, everyone who leaves nice messages. It helps a whole hell of a lot. ||
"What's all this?" Villain eyed the checkered blanket, shifting a little on their feet. The thick material of their costume chafed a bit at the neck.
Hero did not look up, humming a bit as they pulled a surprisingly large tray of sandwiches from the cardboard box situated in the center of it all.
"Is…" Villain took a hesitant step forward, leaning in suspiciously. "Is this a picnic…?"
Hero coughed a little at that, apparently quite entraced with the small tart they were now producing from the box-- despite the poorly-aborted upward glance. "Mm, yes, well-- we are supposed to sort out the whole 'crime and punishment' kerfufel, no?"
Villain blinked, not quite sure how to respond. So they sat down instead, angling themselves just on the edge of the stiff fabric. "I think they meant for us to fight, Hero."
"Well,"
Villain watched them reach back into the depths, eyes catching on the soft-grey material of what certainly appeared to be a civilian jumper, and not a hero's regalia. They nearly missed the next words out of Hero's mouth.
"That's what they get for not specifying, then."
Villain forced the bark of a laugh into a strangled cough, pressing a fist to their mouth. The fingers of their other hand dug into the blanket just in front of them as they struggled to draw in an even breath, mouth twitching unwillingly upward. "Hero, I really don't think…."
Hero paused mid-movement, an admittedly heavy-looking plate hovering just over the box. Hero scrutinized Villain's face carefully, eyebrows scrunched dubiously.
Slowly, they started to put the plate back. "Well, if you'd prefer…"
"No, no, NOPE!" Villain lurched forward, quickly extracting the dish from Hero's hands before retreating, slouching protectively over what was apparently some kind of pastry. "Completely- mm- completely unnecessary-" Villain clutched the plate tighter, writhing under Hero's incredulous stare, "And- AND! I've got- eh, 'hostages', yes-" their eyes flickered to the flakey little pies stacked on the weighted ceramic, bits and splashes of sticky red oozing out where the crusts hadn't fully sealed, "And they're injured, so we couldn't possibly, ah…."
Villain swallowed, feeling the blood unwillingly begin returning to their cheeks. "Couldn't- couldn't possibly…."
Swallowing thickly, Villain hazarded a glance up at Hero-- and stiffened, eyes widening in alarm at the full-on pleased beam directed their way; Hero's lips tucked up into a smug-ass smile, undercut (or perhaps enhanced; Villain hadn't quite decided which one) by the look of absolute relief and joy in those bright, crinkled eyes.
"Of course; I wouldn't dare put a hostage at risk, Villain," the hero tsked, gaze averting to focus back on the cardboard centerpiece (Villain could breath again). "Completely unthinkable. Utterly irresponsible." Hero pulled a bottle of something dark and warm out of the box, shortly followed by two glasses-- one proffered immediately to their frozen companion. "Now, do you want to keep your current captives, or can I interest you in a quick trade first, hm?"
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Confidential | Hero x Villain Snippet
|| Oi-- quick note, while this does not contain anything explicitly sexual or any SA, it is about struggling with complex feelings after a (fully consensual) encounter, and things are vaguely implied. I don't think anything in here is terribly likely to cause anyone any issues, but if you want to steer clear of the topic entirely, I want to give you that option up front. Cheers. ||
They flinched away at the thought.
"Do you feel like it was forced on you?" The counselor leaned in over their own glasses, regarding them- well, not unkindly, but a bit too directly.
"No- no," Villain brought a hand to their forehead, letting their fingers sink into their hair. Their other hand flapped about for a moment more, not quite sure what else to do. "It was consensual, I just-"
Villain groaned, dragging the hand down their flushed cheek. "It's not their fault. It's not." Villain glared forcefully at the counselor, teeth barred-- before having to look away. "…. They'd feel terrible about it, I think, if they knew."
"Everything we talk about here is confidential, Villain-- unless it involves-"
"Hurting myself or others. Yes, obviously." They waved a hand dismissively, walking purposely away to stare at the far shelves. Shakily, they placed a hand on the wood.
"Thank you," they swallowed. Their throat hurt.
The image flashed back across their mind, the close, heavy breath-- the stubbly smile-- no, smirk, expectant-- "Kiss me?"-- hesitant, but Villain couldn't just say no-- they made it quick. It wasn't painless.
Shuddering, Villain pushed themselves away from the mahogany. The shelf was full of kitschy junk and photos of bees, anyway.
They still didn't look at the counselor. "I wanted it." They caught their own wrist in their other hand, wringing it tightly before letting go again-- gesturing widely. The motion didn't feel big enough. "At- at the time. I told them before, that I didn't- that I wasn't-" their breath stuttered, "-but then I wanted, and they were so excited-"
Villain whirled around, beginning to pace the length of the room. Too much energy-- they felt too still-- their arms waved, frantically gesticulating as the- the feelings got stuck somewhere in their throat; or perhaps their chest. That rather hurt too, now. Ached.
"Did you feel like you couldn't revoke your consent, after you'd agreed?"
The conspicuously soft question hit more or less like a punch in the stomach. "Mmmmmmmmnnnn." Villain stopped back in front of the offending shelf, reaching out to straighten a small figurine of a bumble(?) bee. Thinking better of it, they moved it back. "…. No? No." They glared at the engraved wings. "H- They would have stopped. If I'd-" they bit back a groan, rubbing a rough circle into the space below their eye. "You're not listening. I wanted it. I was fine with- with-" they waved their hand again, throat closing.
In the silence, they rotated the bee figurine to face the wall. Villain turned their back to it. The counselor, apparently, was still looking at them far too kindly. Villain stared over their shoulder at the framed (and subsequently blacked-out) diploma. It looked like someone'd used white-out directly on the glass. Not concerning at all.
"It's… it was… the expectations, that came after." Villain offered quietly, hands folding behind their back. "And…. and the remembering." And boy, were they remembering now.
The pressure on their chest, legs straddled around the bigger body, a too-clumsy hand on their thigh-- Villain writhed a little on their feet, a flush creeping up from the neck-- the timid question, permission; Villain's teeth pressing too-cautiously into the meat Hero's shoulder- Villain laughed.
Frantically bringing a fist to their mouth, the villain doubled-over, forcing the sharp, unexpected sound into a rough cough; cheeks burning. "I- ah, AHEM- uh-" They didn't dare check the counselor's expression.
GOD, this is what their mind kept going to? Every fucking time, and it- well-- Villain forced down another bark of laughter--it wasn't funny--A wry smile broke across Villain's face quite without their permission.
"It wasn't even good, you know. For either of us-- I think."
Apparently their mouth was doing all sorts of things without their permission. Ah, well.
They didn't know what to make of the answering silence. So they continued.
"It fucking sucked."
They weren't sure if they were trembling with laughter, or their body had finally decided to just stop functioning, but the whole thing was rather ludicrous. It was probably time someone just took Villain out back and shot them, honestly. Maybe Hero would do the honors.
Shakily, the villain straightened-- unable to keep the wild, pained grin from stretching across their face. Finally meeting the counselor's eye, they shrugged-- almost apologetic. They shouldn't have to see all this. But Villain didn't really have anything left to lose, and they'd come this far. Might as well make it someone else's problem, too.
"….. I keep wanting to do it again."
Their own voice sounded too non-chalant to be real, and their chest ached. Villain smiled forcefully. "Tell anyone that, and I'll kill you."
The counselor raised an eyebrow, still watching Villain with That Expression. It was always That Expression.
Villain writhed in their own skin.
"…. Confidential?" It shouldn't sound that raspy. Or that pathetic, for that matter-
"Confidential."
Villain hated the sudden feeling of relief that washed over them. Their arms--still shaking-- folded themselves across their chest. "It better be." That, at least, sounded authoritative enough.
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