Chaotic-scraps - Typing...

A Man of His Word

(Context: Civilian has a friend that is well known for never breaking promises. This friend also just so happens to have a secret, and Civilian has figured it out.)

Cw: threat of death, knife violence

Civilian smiled across the kitchen at Friend. He was helping them put their groceries away, transferring things from the floor to the fridge. Plastic rustled as he removed milk from one bag and various cheeses from another.

“Thanks again for helping me carry these. You know how much I hate doing two trips.”

Friend sighed, rolling his head back dramatically as he replied, “I know you just keep me around for my arm muscles.”

Civilian glared at their friend, who was now flexing his biceps, for all of two seconds before a smile broke back out across their face.

“But really, it’s no problem at all.”

Breaking the comfortable silence after the amendment, Friend bunched up an empty bag, throwing it straight at Civilian instead of shoving it into the bag-of-bags looped around the pantry door handle.

Civilian gasped as they batted it away, instinctively going for the closest thing on the island that wasn’t breakable. They clutched the freshly-bought apple in their hand before throwing it mercilessly at their friend. Luckily, Friend caught it with a laugh, keeping the fruit from being bruised.

Civilian joined in with some light giggling of their own as they watched him take a bite with a satisfying crunch before continuing to stock the fridge while they conquered the pantry.

“Hey! That was supposed to be for a pie!” They protested.

“Please,” he started, pulling some scissors from the kitchen drawer and cutting open the plastic rings from a six-pack of soda they had broken into earlier. “I saved it from a terrible fate:” He finished, tossing the bird-safe remains into the trash, “The horrors of your baking.”

Civilian gaped in offense.

“No more birthday cakes for you!”

“The best gift I could ever ask for,” he winked, coming over to throw an arm over Civilian’s shoulders and ruffle their hair.

The normalcy sent off a pang in their chest.

A thoughtful, dependable, goofy guy. It was just so easy to believe.

It was a shame they knew it was a lie.

Friend had started to relay some adventure from earlier in his day, which Civilian tried their best to attend to. In the background, the TV in the living room was playing some stupid sitcom with a shitty laugh track that was definitely being overused. They leaned against the counter, basking in the peace of it all for just another moment.

Before it all went to shit.

Civilian made their move after the pantry was shut and they both headed for the next room.

“Hey,” Civilian checked their nails as they spoke, “I want to talk to you about something, but you have to promise me something first.”

An innocently confused, mildly concerned expression plastered itself over Friend’s face as he stopped short of the couch. Civilian’s stomach twisted at the sight.

“Yeah, of course. Anything.”

Friend crossed their arms and leaned against the pony wall disarmingly.

“You have to hear me out. Give me ten seconds.”

An awkward chuckle.

“What is this about?”

Civilian met their friend’s eyes seriously.

“Just promise me. Ten seconds.”

“Okay… Yeah sure, ten seconds,” he assured, shooting them an uneasy smile.

Civilian took a deep breath.

“I know who you are.”

And just like that, Friend was gone. Instead, there was Villain, pinning Civilian to the floor, holding a blade a hair’s width from their jugular.

Where he had hidden the knife, Civilian had no idea, not that was particularly important right now. Only one thing was.

“You promised!” They squeaked out, hating how helpless they were in that moment, how they were betting their life on there being a kernel of their friend left in the man on top of them now.

Inflectionless, he responded, “Nine. Eight.”

Civilian’s relief was very short lived. Shit, they should have said fifteen.

Trying so very hard to stay still, to keep that sharpened metal away from their carotid, they practically whispered their desperate plea to the stone face above them, “I don’t care. I swear to anything I don’t. You have a plan to take down Hero. In- in three days. I need to help.”

“Two.”

Frantically, they stumbled over their words as they added. “Oh! and um- dead man’s switch.”

Despite themselves, they scrunched their eyes shut as their internal countdown hit zero. When nothing happened, their eyelids fluttered open again to see utterly unchanged features. No reaction at all.

“What,” Villain spoke, in a voice that Civilian no longer recognized, “does that mean?”

“If I live, your identity stays between us. If I die…”

A sharp pain lit up their arm as, presumably, the knife that had been at their neck relocated itself into their flesh. Civilian swore.

“Who,” Villain growled lowly, leaning close to their ear, “The fuck. Do you think you are?.”

“Someone with a will to live?” Civilian choked, no longer scared to take deep, heaving breaths to the side now that there wasn’t a blade directly above their artery.

“Clearly not. People who want to live keep their mouth shut and run far, far away,” he spit.

Their head was wrenched back into a forward-facing position via a hand in their hair.

“How long?” Villain demanded.

Civilian blinked. Right, the switch.

“Fifteen minutes.”

Suddenly, they were being hauled up by the collar, then unceremoniously shoved into the light blue accent wall, conveniently within sight of where their laptop rested closed in the middle of the room.

“Disable it.”

“I can’t. It's automatic, every 8 hours. No off switch.”

Spots arose in their vision as their arm was grabbed in a rather unfortunate location.

“Disable. It.”

“I can’t. I swear.”

“I can get the code one way or another,” Villain warned.

“I know you could.” Involuntary tears dripped down their face as they explained, “There’s nothing to get. The answer changes every time. It’s randomly selected. I don’t know it till I see it.”

“You’re lying,” he accused, and Civilian didn’t have to look to know that they were bleeding somewhere else now with just a swipe of his hand.

“I’m not! Give me the laptop, we’re running out of time.”

Civilain gestured wildly to the oak wood coffee table.

“The only person running out of time here is you.”

With that, Civilian was thrown back to the floor, Villain straddling their horizontal form before they could get their legs underneath them to scramble back. The knife returned, only this time it would not be pressed shallowly, and there would be no more counting, no more promises of time, no more hesitation.

”Look! Hero killed my parents, okay?!” They blurted, a last, desperate attempt at getting through to him before he ended their life.

Maybe there was a shred of Friend left in the villain after all, because Civilian caught the slightest moment of pause in his movements, a blip they might never have noticed having never spent time with the man.

“Please, I would never stop you,” they pleaded, searching for another blip deep inside their former friend’s eyes. They came away empty.

They didn’t really know how it happened, but somehow they ended up perched on the couch, laptop open and propped on shaking legs. Villain breathed down their neck every second, watching them like a starved hawk.

They were lucky they could even punch the code in with the amount of nervous movement in their fingers and hands.

“That’s it. We’re good for another eight hours,” they confirmed, slowly closing the lid of their laptop and sliding it back onto the table next to the coaster. “Guess we’re partners now,” Civilian laughed weakly.

“No,” Villain dissented, in a tone that left no room for argument. “You’re a temporarily-alive prisoner.”

He appeared in front of them, pulling them up and off the couch with an alarmingly harsh grip.

“Don’t forget it.”

Villain could feel her mind go blank. God, she really said that out loud.

Hero was close, much too close, and her strong arms gripped her shoulders so, so tightly. She smelled a little like strawberries and musk, and her hair tickled her face a little. No one had ever gotten this close before. Villain twisted her wrists in the cuffs behind her back and tried to ignore the warm feeling in her gut.

"I… Um…" Villain tried, flustered. Her eyes flicked to Hero's lips. They looked soft.

Hero cleared her throat and put an arm's length between them. "Nice try, but you're still going to prison."

Villain's stomach did little somersaults. "You're, uh, going to take me there yourself?"

Hero blinked and seemed to avoid her eyes. "Well, um. Yes."

"And, um, keep a close eye on me?"

Hero flicked a glance at her and grabbed a walkie-talkie with one hand. "Hey, Superhero," Hero squeaked, voice cracking, "When's your ETA?"

Villain could see a little pink in her ears.

Static. Hero muttered a curse. Superhero always took his time answering.

Villain knew she should take the opportunity to try to run. Hero only had one hand on her shoulder. One warm, strong hand.

She pulled her shoulder back and barreled into the Hero. Hero, caught off guard, dropped the walkie-talkie and fell back. Villain made a run for it, jumping off the rooftop onto a fire escape.

"Hey! No, get back here!" Hero roared. She leapt onto the fire escape below Villain, cutting off where she was headed. Villain jumped off the fire escape to the ground, and Hero launched after her.

The full impact hit Villain square in the back, and the resulting fall knocked the wind out of her. Hero straddled her from the back and roughly grabbed her arms.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're cute," Hero grunted.

Villain's heart fluttered. She turned her head as much as she was able. "You think I'm cute?"

Hero reached for her walkie-talkie and came up empty.

"It's on the rooftop," Villain helpfully reminded her. "Does he normally take this long to respond?"

Hero seemed conflicted in whether to answer. "…Yeah," She conceded.

"With just you, or--"

"I really, really don't want to talk about it," Hero sighed tiredly. "Just… Please."

Villain hummed. "You deserve better," She said.

"So do your victims," Hero said, voice hard.

Villain opened her mouth. Shut it. "This seems personal," she said.

"It is," Hero said. "Superhero saved me from Villains like you. So now, I work for him and pay it forward."

"Funny," Villain said, voice lowering an octave. "Superhero is the reason I'm like this."

Hero was going to ask what she meant, but Superhero came flying from above. A short while later, a prisoner transfer vehicle arrived.

"Thanks for your help as always, Hero," Superhero said. He flashed a wide, toothy grin for the paparazzi as he secured Villain into the back of the vehicle.

"I have something important to take care of, so I'll see you back at the base, Sport," Superhero said, patting Hero's back. Hero slid into the passenger's seat quietly, knuckles white. She watched him laughing with the press as the car rolled away.

"Wow, he can't even help escort me back?" Villain said, smile sardonic. "Also, what was that just now? Is he stealing the credit from you?"

"I don't want the attention," Hero said. She looked down. "Justice is its own reward."

Villain snorted. "Oh, honey... You keep telling yourself that."

The driver flicked his eyes towards the backseat, and pushed a button to lock the car doors.

"Just ignore her," Hero said to the driver, flashing a smile. "Have we met? You don't look familiar."

"He didn't get in the car," The driver gruffed.

Villain sighed. "I know, I know, but proceed with the plan anyways."

"Yes, boss," said the driver.

Hero whirled around. "Hey, wait, what plan--"

There was a sudden sting in her arm as the driver injected her with an unknown substance.

"What th--" Hero ripped the tranquilizer from her arm and tried to grab the wheel.

The car veered and the driver wrenched her arm back. She elbowed him in the eye and grappled for the wheel. He pulled out a gun and aimed it at her.

"Hey, now," Villain said, reaching her arms through the bars. "I like her, so be gentle."

"Yes, boss," The driver said. He kept the gun ready, and glowered at Hero with his good eye. They were speeding down a gravel path. Hero tried the door but her hands felt weak.

"Child lock," Villain said.

Hero bit her tongue to stave off the unnatural woozy feeling in her head. "You'll... Be... S-sorry," she said.

"Don't worry, shh, I'll take care of you," Villain shushed, petting her hair gently. "I just can't let you interfere with my plans. Okay? Okay? Sleep."

Hero's eyes went heavy. She leaned into the soothing hand despite herself. Her vision went black.

Prompt (440)

The hero clicked the handcuffs over the villain’s wrists. “You’re done terrorizing the city. Any last words?”

“I think I’m in love with you,” the villain said.

The hero turned the villain around. “What?”

Prompt 16 - Hot Chocolate

“Do you have any hot cocoa? It’s freezing outside.” Villain rummaged through Hero’s cupboards.

“There’s hot chocolate powder in the cupboard closest to the fridge.”

“How do you turn on your stove?”

“Just microwave a cup of water.”

“Microwave? I didn’t know you had such terrible taste,” Villain said, affronted.

Hero cracked an eye open, but they couldn’t see Villain from their current position. “What’s the difference? It’s just hot water.”

“That’s another thing. You make hot cocoa with water?”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s so much better with milk!”

Leave it to Villain to pick fights over the smallest and strangest things. “Milk is easier to burn and more expensive than water.”

“But it tastes better!”

“It tastes perfectly fine either way.”

“You sound so boring!”

“And you sound childish.”

“See, this is why we can’t be together!”

“It’s not because you’re a villain and I’m a hero?”

“No! It’s because you insist on settling for subpar satisfaction when there’s better options available to you! You can’t let yourself truly enjoy anything because you feel guilty every moment you’re not suffering!”

Hero stared at Villain, speechless. How were they supposed to respond to that? How did the argument go from hot chocolate preferences to Hero’s guilt complex?

“Woah, that got a bit heavy,” Villain said. “We really need to talk about your mental health, but that’s a conversation for another time. What I’m trying to say is, you should indulge yourself every once and a while.” They shoved a mug into Hero’s hands. “Here, just try it.”

Hero didn’t want to admit Villain had a point, but it did taste pretty good. “How about I compromise by microwaving the water until it’s boiling, then adding milk to it?”

“Fine, but you’re on thin ice.”

Traditional hand-drawn animation my beloved

I love the warmth of the pencil

Idk why quality is so bad 😔

"You're a bad influence," you said with a fond smile.

"I aim to be," they agreed, matching your smile.

They reached for your hand, but you pulled back.

"I have to go," you said.

"Afraid to stay?" they challenged with a knowing glint.

The rain is coming down hard and unrelenting. The roads are muddy and slick, unlit and miserably cold. You are aimlessly seeking shelter when none but your nemesis stops beside you.

"Come to gloat?" you shout over the rain.

"Always," they call back with a smile. "Looks like you need a ride."

Your teeth are chattering. Your head is pounding. Your clothes are sopped.

"No, thanks. I love it out here," you snap.

Their smile drops. "Get in. We need to talk."

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

That run cycle and spin kick!!! She is fast, but weighted!

Hey I'm back with another animation, that took forever 😅 accidentally deleted my progress from it last year around the same time as now. I worked on it on and off since then. I learned a lot again and now I can finally move on to other projects. This is the same character from my last one, Cassidy's the name, Kicks're her game! Terrible reference aside, I want this big lady of mine to kick ass and I believe I succeeded!

"You fell right into my trap," the villain said. They didn't sound gloating, or even happy. In fact, they sounded worried.

"Y-you're going to lock me up, right?" the hero said hopefully.

The villain pinched the bridge of their nose. "Listen." They sighed heavily. "How do I put this. You're... More... Incompetent than usual."

The hero froze. "W-what do you mean?" They laughed nervously. "I-I trashed your lab. I got your henchmen to fight amongst each other. I even--"

"Yes, yes, you're still a thorn in my side, don't get me wrong." The villain frowned. "It's that you've fallen into this same exact trap three times in the last month. You know this wall shoots netting if you press a certain tile, and it's like... It's like you've intentionally been pressing it!"

"You expect me to memorize ALLLLL the little traps in your base?!" The hero scoffed. "Do you realize how WEIRD you sound?!"

The villain stared, deadpan, as they allowed a detailed map of their base to unfurl. Marked in red was every trap and trigger in the building. "Care to explain this?"

"That's not mine," the hero squeaked.

"Okay. That's it." The villain threw up their hands. "I'm letting you go. My henchmen will escort you out." They stalked over to an intercom on the wall.

"Wait, okay, fine!" The hero relented. They worried their lip. "I... The Agency... The Agency..." Their voice cracked a little. "F-fired... me..."

The villain stopped, hand hovering over the intercom button. "They what?!"

"They just..." Tears sprung in the hero's eyes. "Told all the other heroes I was compromised. They think I'm helping you."

"Why do they think that?" The villain snorted. "You're the bane of my existence. I can't have a moment's peace without you wrecking something."

"Yeah." The hero smiled, sadly. "Yeah, I am. But... They won't even talk to me."

The villain blinked. "Sooo... You're trying to... Prove yourself by being bad at your job?"

The hero flushed in utter shame. "Uh. No. I... " They laughed, high-pitched and strained. "It's warm in here. The cot in your cell is really comfortable. The food's not bad, either."

The villain's face pinched. "I give you stale bread and gruel."

"Yeah." The hero chuckled fondly. "It's filling, though." They curled into themselves. "They froze my bank account, evicted me, cut off my phone access. Can't even call my friends."

They shrugged. "Though, most of them work for the agency and have direct orders to not interact with me. So, there's that."

"You have nowhere else to go." The revelation was like a punch in the villain's gut. "You're homeless."

The hero bristled at that. "I'm just between homes," they stated defensively. "I'm working something out. It's temporary. I just need to get a new job--"

"You're hired." The villain set to work freeing them from the net. "Room and board in exchange for your work."

"...What?" The hero shrank back in disbelief. "No, I don't want your-- wait, really?"

The villain peered down at them. "This is not out of pity. You know better than anyone the weaknesses in my defenses, and you've seen my henchmen."

The hero cracked a genuine smile at that. "How do you know I won't betray you?"

The villain dabbed a tear from the hero's cheek. "... I have a hunch," they said fondly. "Besides, just having you out of my hair will save me so much on insurance."

"Why won't you just die?!"

"And deprive myself of your disappointment?"