And The Motherfucking Fafsa That Bastard - Tumblr Posts
Would you be willing to do some sapphic dialogue between hero and Villain? ❤️
“I understand now,” the villain murmured, chin resting in her hand. The hero turned, swiping a bit of blood out of her eyes.
“Understand what?”
She was golden, her villain, standing there like that. Amongst rubble and ash as it drifted from the sky, light illuminating her like a halo. Like she was some sort of god.
“Why they all went mad. Why they started wars and spilt blood.”
The hero’s brow wrinkled as the villain stepped closer, but she held still as the villain tucked a bloodied piece of hair behind her ear.
“Have you gone mad, then?” It was half teasing.
The villain laughed, smoothing the hero’s brow with her thumb. “I think loving you has always been a sort of madness.”
The hero shoved at the villain’s shoulder playfully, ducking her head to hide her blush. “Are you calling me an illness, then?”
“One I never hope to cure.”
“That seems a little self sabotaging if you ask me,” the hero remarked. She shifted a piece of rubble with her foot, dust pluming out around it. “But, if we’re in the vein of self sabotage, maybe no more mass apocalypse attempts?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“No, you won’t.”
The villain tipped her head. “Would you truly want me to?”
“No,” the hero said after a moment, voice hesitant. “I cannot imagine you any other way.”
The hero froze, blushing, ducking her head to hide the red on her cheeks. The villain took it as an opportunity to grab her chin, guiding the hero’s eyes to meet hers. Her fingers were the kind of soft that made violence seem a myth.
The villain hummed. “I’d burn the world for you, if you asked.” She raised a playful eyebrow at the hero. “Is that how you imagine me?”
Being this close to the villain was doing something funny to the hero’s heart. She felt like she needed to sit down. Or possibly find out what the villain’s lips felt like on hers–
“Yes,” she whispered. Something flickered in the villain’s eyes.
“What a hero,” the villain’s mouth twitched in amusement, that damn mouth.
“You’re pronouncing ‘hopeless romantic’ wrong.”
A slow grin crept across the villain’s face.
“Oh, am I now?”
There were words to respond to that, but the hero had forgotten them. This close, the villain smelled like blood and dust and something uniquely her, something the hero had been missing all of her life and couldn’t get enough of now.
“Mmmmhm.”
The villain’s grin widened.
“Have I driven you to madness?”
The hero couldn’t look away from her eyes. “The kind that makes people start wars.”
The villain pulled her close, tucking the hero into her neck.
“That’s called love.”
The hero sucked in a breath, heart pounding in her ribs, but didn’t pull away.
“I know,” she breathed in the scent of the villain, “I was destined for failure.”
The villain rested her head against the hero’s. Her arms slid neatly around her waist.
“I don’t think you could fail at anything.”
“I failed at not loving you,” the hero pulled back. “Though really, how could they put heaven in front of me and expect me not to love her–”
The villain was kissing her.
The villain, her villain, was kissing her.
The hero melted.
The villain smiled against her mouth.
“They’ll tell stories about us, you know.”
“They always do, when people go mad with love.”
“The Story of When Heaven and Hell Fell In Love,” the villain murmured fondly.
“Mmm. Which one are you?”
“Hell.”
“That’s the most untrue thing you’ve ever said.”
The villain laughed.
“Only you would think so.”
“Well,” the hero tipped her head. “I am in love.” She wrapped her arms around the back of the villain's neck. “Now, if we’re going to tell a story,” she leaned in to whisper against the villain’s lips. “Let’s make it a good one.”
The villain smiled.
And kissed her again.