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#hero villain
avvail · 11 months
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a villain that can hypnotise people through touch
The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.
“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.
“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”
“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”
“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”
The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”
“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”
The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.
“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”
The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.
“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”
“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”
“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”
The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”
“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”
The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”
“Then I come to you.”
“Stay away.”
The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.
“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”
“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.
“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”
It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.
“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”
The hero obediently follows them along.
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ownlittleuniverse · 6 months
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scenario #1 - the hero’s lover
“Love, why don’t you come to bed?”
The hero had been up for hours, way into the night racking their brain and trying desperately to find the villains identity. Their lover was becoming a bit worried with this obsession taking over their sleep.
“No, not until I figure out who the hell they are,” they snapped, their voice breaking.
Their lover could only sigh at their hero’s determination. It was their best trait and worst flaw.
“It’s not worth your health, my love,” their lover soothed.
Their lover walked over to the hero slumped over their desk, their whole body exuding exhaustion. They crouched down and took the hero’s face between their hands, caressing their cheeks. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their lover didn’t know if it was from their lack of sleep or from their tears. Their hero looked so tired.
“The villain is still out there, you’ll find them, okay?”
The hero only nodded, sniffing a bit. They wrapped their arms around their lovers neck. Their lover chuckled into their hero’s neck.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
Their lover carried their exhausted hero with care, keeping them close to their body and listening to the hero’s even breathing. They were already out.
Their lover walked them over and placed them gently in their bed, kissing them on the forehead and wrapping them up in warm wool blankets. They climbed into the covers as the hero subconsciously pulled their lover close.
“Goodnight, love you,” the hero murmured into their lover's skin.
“Love you.”
They turned off the bedside light, pulled the blanket over both their bodies, wrapping their own over their dear hero’s exhausted one. The hero clung to them, and the villain could only smile into their hair.
They couldn’t help but admire their hero’s determination, and chuckle at their clear obliviousness. If they simply looked past the obvious, they would see that the person they cling to every night was the one they were after.
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invalidstories · 7 months
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Forbidden Love
Warnings: physical aggression, physical restraint, forbidden attraction, and romantic tension
In the dimly lit alley, Hero stumbled, their breath ragged and limbs heavy with exhaustion. They had been chasing Villain for what felt like an eternity, their determination fueled by a relentless sense of duty. But now, as they faced their adversary in the cold embrace of the night, Hero could feel the weight of their fatigue bearing down upon them.
Villain, ever the opportunist, seized the moment, lunging forward with predatory grace. Hero's reflexes were dulled by exhaustion, and before they could react, Villain had them pinned against the brick wall, their body pressed close, trapping the Hero.
"You look tired, Hero," Villain purred, their voice a low, taunting whisper that sent shivers down Hero's spine. "Is the weight of the world finally catching up to you?"
Hero gritted their teeth, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of their enemy's gloating. "Maybe," they managed to rasp out, "but that won't stop me from taking you down."
Villain chuckled darkly, their breath hot against Hero's neck. "Such bravado," they murmured, their lips dangerously close to Hero's ear. "But we both know you're no match for me in this state."
Hero's heart raced as they struggled against Villain's iron grip, their body pressed against the cold, unyielding wall. Every fiber of their being screamed for release, for freedom from Villain's suffocating hold. Yet, even in their exhaustion, a flicker of comfort grew within them, being so close to the villain.
As Villain's gaze bore into theirs, Hero felt something stir within them – a strange, forbidden attraction that blossomed despite the circumstances. There was something captivating about them, something that stirred Hero's heart in ways they couldn't explain.
"You may be right," Hero admitted, their voice barely above a whisper, "but there's something about you that I can't ignore."
And in that moment, with the world crumbling around them, Hero reached out, their fingertips grazing Villain's cheek. Villain leaned into the touch, their eyes fluttering closed as they surrendered to the irresistible pull of fate.
Suddenly, their lips met met the villain's in a desperate kiss, emotions surging between them – desire, longing, and a hint of defiance. In that stolen moment, Hero and Villain were no longer enemies, but two souls intertwined in a dance of forbidden passion.
But as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Villain whispered words that shattered the fragile illusion of their connection.
"Perhaps in another life, we could have been more than enemies."
And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty and longing in their wake.
"Amid the chaos, find beauty in the unexpected."
Masterlist
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writemeagoodprompt · 1 year
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"I am not worth the risk." Hero said quietly, their voice a whisper. "I will only weigh you down, and cause you great pain."
"You say that, yet your flaws only define your strengths." Villain held their hand, squeezing it tightly. "You are strong. To me, you are worth everything and more."
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blood-enthusiast · 7 months
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Tw: slightly graphic content, characters death, angst, fatal injury
Hero's palm rested around the large dagger sticking out of his body. His glossy eyes were gazing at the city lights from afar. A much better sight than the gruesome mess in his abdomen. He shivered under the cold of the night, black clouds slowly crowding above him.
His body was slumped at the roots of a tall oak tree with legs outstretched on the damp ground.
At his final moment, he was struck by the craving of company his enemy offered him often. Him and Villain had been fighting for many years, long tiresome battles that worn both of them out each time, but hero thought it was worth it despite the injuries caused. Because Villain would stay next to him in silence after. They'd both share long, quiet moments, existing beside each other in peace after a fight, making him feel oddly understood at a level words wouldn't reach. Villain had helped him breathe easier even if he never admitted it to them out of embarrassment. The storm covered his sobs. If he could see them one more time... or at least say goodbye...
His wound throbbed painfully, causing him to double over and ooze out more blood. Hero gasped in pain and tried to still himself. Once the pain subsided a little, he pulled his numb body upright and wrapped the cape around himself clumsily, pressing against the tree for warmth. His eyelids flattered, the sight unfocusing for the last time, blurring the city lights into small, colorful dots.
They'd given their all to the city. It was finally time to rest..
Far far away, at one of the tallest buildings of the city, Villain was stung by a sudden pinch in their chest, eyes open in disbelief turning towards the window, glistening upon realizing..
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Hero x Villain
The Villain tore the city apart to find the hero, it had been over three months since the hero's disappearance and he had already searched every nook and cranny of the capital, only to find out that she had gone missing, but where? How could she leave her dear city she had been protecting since the last seven years? "Boss" his aide came running to his side, the aura which surrounded the villain made it hard for him to breath, the aide gulped "The head of the super cops must be knowing something about the hero's disappearance". The villain's eyebrows furrowed down, his lips stretching into a twisted smile, which gave chills to his aide. "Ha" he smirked, brushing his hair up, "Did she quit her job and left for somewhere else", the villain could not understand that why was he feeling so annoyed about this, when all he had ever wanted was the city's destruction, his revenge and the death of this country's savior. He could feel his veins protrude on his neck, as he clenched his fist tightly reminiscing about the swaying figure of the hero who could not even walk normally after their last fight. "When I find you this time, I will make sure that...." his last words disappeared, into the dark black suffocating aura he emitted.
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painsandconfusion · 1 year
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Without You
(tw: public execution mention, hanging referenced, talk of death and grieving)
[Drabble Masterpost]
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“I never took you for the gloating type.” Villain’s voice bounced flat off the empty walls before Hero was even in sight.
They drew a deep breath, sighing it out. Rounding the corner, they found Villain calmly pacing their cell. Eyes on the lone window that looked out to what would be their gallows once it was complete.
They were hinging the trapdoor now. It wouldn’t be long.
“That’s because I’m not.” Hero leaned against the bars, eyes roaming over Villain. 
Villain scoffed a soft laugh, eyes flicking to Hero. “You’re making an exception for little old me? Sweet Hero, I’m flattered.” They didn’t sound flattered. They sounded tired.
Back to pacing. 
Hero’s head tilted, watching them. At first glance, Villain seemed the epitome of calm and confidence. But Hero knew them well. 
Far too well.
Their stride was too long. Too careful. Hands folded meticulously behind their back pulsed a gentle squeezing rhythm around their palm. 
They were scared. 
“I’m not here to gloat,” Hero clarified, hands tucking into their pockets. 
“So a goodbye, then? I hardly think I deserve that.”
Hero gave a small shrug. “You don’t know what you mean to me.”
That stopped Villain in their tracks. They turned a wary look to Hero. Scrutinizing. “And how’s that?”
Hero took a deep breath, eyes roaming the cell now. Looking anywhere but Villain. “..I was made for you - did you know that? I was specifically chosen and trained for you. To hunt you down. When you’re gone…I’m not sure what I’ll do.”
“Mm.” Villain continued their pacing. “I’m not surprised by that - perhaps you could open a bakery or something. Get a normal job. Find someone else to chase around.”
“..what if I don’t want someone else..?” Their words were murmured, but Villain heard them all the same. 
“...then you’ll have to live with my absence, I suppose.”
Hero drew in a deep breath. “Of course.” Straightening, they brushed invisible soot off their jacket. “I’ll be going now. I’ll see you out there, then.”
Villain frowned, looking over Hero. “..you’ll be there?”
Hero nodded. “I wouldn’t leave you alone.” Their hand extended through the bars, offering a handshake. “It’s been fun.”
Villain just looked…confused. Hesitating, they took Hero’s hand with their trembling grip, shaking weakly.
Hero smiled a little as Villain’s vision flickered, registering the trick. 
Hero pulled their hand away again. “Goodbye, Villain.”
“..goodbye, Hero.” Villain pulled their hand back to their chest, fingers wrapped into a fist now. They cradled it with the other. “...thank you. For coming.”
Hero gave them a nod, then headed back the way the came, leaving Villain alone with the iron key pressed to their palm.
They’d be seeing their nemesis soon enough. 
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[Drabble Masterpost]
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder343)
As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!
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miaowmelodie · 1 year
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Does anyone know if there's a tag for the love interest traitor on AO3?
I'm looking for the trope where the villain tricks their hero into falling in love with them for evil purposes (or vice versa, a hero doing that kind of cruelty would be amazing angst-wise) but ends up realizing they love them back after they broke hero's heart.
I remember reading a fanfic like that (it wasn't hero x villain but the trope's the same) on Wattpad in a Mycroft x Lestrade fic years ago and I was wondering if there were more like that.
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whatiswhump · 2 years
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Silas Sevieller
I have probably posted snippets of this before. But now doing it in one fell swoop.
CW: Mention of past child death, psychiatric whump, needles, manhandling, possessive whumper.
-
A grin flickered across his smug face, begging the question, how was he enjoying this?
Sydney adjusted the grip on his gun, no less determined but certainly unnerved by the psychopath.
“What’s the matter Syd? Had enough?”
“Just give up, back up is almost here. You’ve done enough.”
There was that smile again, “Ohhhh, enough? I was only getting started before you interrupted me.” The young man, lackadaisically threw a knife so that the simple flick of his wrist sent it hurtling towards Sydney. 
If Sydney were any slower he would be on the concrete with a serrated dagger in his forehead.
“Jesus, Silas, what gets you off?” This was the end game, now Sydney just needed to distract. Silas Sevieller had narrowly escaped already four times this year and it was only March. He had made it to the top of nearly every list.
Silas betrayed no emotion to the question, he also knew Sydney’s game… yet it seemed he was interested in playing, “If that's the most interesting question you have to distract me than I've underestimated you. I'm dissap-"
Suddenly the room was flooded with noise, there was yelling from every direction. Black armored figures trained rifles all on one target.
The target only grinned a toothy grin and kneeled with his hands behind his head, he knew the drill.
Sydney narrowed his eyes at the young man, where was the fear behind that vicious facade? Irritatingly, he saw no spark or inkling of anything resembling fear. So he looked at the men holding him and gruffly ordered, “Go ahead, get him out of here.”
-
The first time he caught him it was out of brute force, Silas fought the fight but Silas won. Silas had never been much for physical prowess. As a child he would orchestrate the fights in the orphanage yard rather than engage in them.
The second time Silas escaped, Sydney caught him by wits. He realized Silas was so delighted by- so caught up in the game, that he could be lured in more easily than someone of his intellect would expect. Silas wasn’t entirely surprised this time, he had seen the signs, the telltale queues but Sydney was right, he was having too much fun. In the moment he couldn’t help himself. And anyway he had slipped out of their prison once, what would stop him from doing it again? Surely not the imbeciles that ran it.
But those same imbeciles weren’t very pleased with him when he was dragged back in chains. They cut his rations and put him in solitary. Guards started looking for excuses to force him back into place. The blood spilt hardly deterred Silas at first. And anyway he had spent most of his life alone, he appreciated the time to think and formulate. Being alone was comfort, not being forced to rely on someone else, being alone was safe. He could trust himself and no one else, he had known this for a very long time. So solitary suited him just fine.
But the third time it wasn’t so easy, he had become ragged and thinner, more desperate with every bruise until at last he stole away in the night, leaving chaos in his wake. Sydney had caught up to him a few weeks later… on that awful day. Almost the whole city block was levelled, Silas hadn’t wanted that. God, that was the last thing he wanted. Sydney found Silas standing alone in the wreckage, horrified.
“Silas, it’s done. You’ve done enough.” Silas rested a hand on his hip, poised over his weapon.
Silas whipped around, instantly disguising his lost expression into a coy smile, “Sydney! I missed you! You never came to visit.”
Silas couldn’t help but smirk, “Yeah well I knew they were taking pretty good care of you there, they held onto you for over a year this time!”
“Did they? Huh, didn’t get to have a calendar in solitary, figured it had only been a couple of weeks.”
“What did you think about in all that time?” Sydney was stalling for back up and Silas knew it once again. Sydney didn’t want to pummel him again like the first time. Something about it had felt… wrong? If that made sense. It was better this way, to outmaneuver him, mitigate the damage.
Silas glanced around himself quickly, almost imperceptibly, scanning for others. He didn’t spot anyone, it wasn’t too late.
“Well I guess I’ll just have to tell you next time we meet won’t I?” Silas wiped some of the blood of his forehead with the back of his sleeve and winced, “Until next time.” He turned to leave.
“SEVEILLER HANDS UP!” The order rang through the smoldering air and caught Silas in his tracks.
They really were faster this time.
Men in tactical suits emerged from different directions, all equipped with rifles trained on Silas. Sydney glanced back at Silas and flashed a grin.
“Silas, No!” Silas realized then what he was going to do.
But the gun had already been pulled out of his back waistband, he was holding it up, trained on Sydney.
“Don’t shoot! Or I’ll take him with me!” Silas yelled.
Did Sydney see a quiver in Silas’s hands? He wouldn’t actually shoot him would he? He had never intentionally killed anyone right?
Sydney didn’t have time to debate this, this had to end, before someone got hurt, or worse, they shot Silas.
“Silas, what would Julie say?” He had recently uncovered it in a file, in an interview someone had mentioned someone named Julie and that she had died. He was grasping at straws but he hoped it might distract him but for some inexplicable reason it felt embarrassing to drag some random woman's name into their standoff, like he shouldn't do it.
But perhaps it was the right thing to do because after a brief moment Silas’s face devolved into horror as he stared at Sydney, he immediately lowered the gun and then dropped it like an afterthought.
"You know about her?" He asked in shock.
The SWAT team members surged in and tackled him to the ground and he didn’t fight it. When they pulled him back up, wasting no time in getting him to a more secure location, his eyes were empty, like he had seen a ghost. He went away with them quietly not looking back up at Sydney again, now lost somewhere else.
Who was Julie? Another victim?
-
The coffee was shit today. Did anyone else agree? Sydney didn’t even feel like making a joke about it though, he was too distracted with his previous night’s dream. Not one to overanalyze the weird shit that his subconscious made a hobby of coming up with, he didn’t normally let his nightmares take over his days but last night’s still tugged at his mind. 
He had had this hair-raising vivid vision of Silas Seveiller in his bedroom... to murder him. But right when Silas raised his knife, he stopped and whispered, This isn’t what I want.
Sydney didn’t understand it but it kept playing on a loop in his head throughout the whole morning. By noon he decided the only way to prove to his subconscious that the maniac hadn’t escaped to murder him was to go see him. Seeing Silas locked up would put him at ease again.
But Silas wasn’t in prison this time. They had finally decided that he wasn’t mentally fit to be kept there... Syd wondered if it’s because the Powers that Be thought the prison guards might actually kill him this time. 
Now Sydney would have to go to a very different place to see his nemesis.. one that he did not look forward to.
-
“Rise and shine Seveiller. You gonna take your meds today?”
The young man squinted to see two men towering above him, instantly making him feel nauseous. One pulled his sheet back while the other pressed a paper cup into his periphery.
“Because of your little meltdown yesterday, this is your only chance.”
“Well I don’t want it,” he croaked with a voice still heavy under the sedation of the previous night’s dose.
And then they were gone. He curled back into a miserable ball not bothering to pull the sheet back up.
A door far away buzzed. The sheet was gone again. The sheet was already gone? There were hands on him. Strong grips pulling him off the bed, he struggled. He even tried to land an elbow but he wasn’t strong enough and they too easily pinned him down. His face was forced into the mattress and his backside suddenly felt colder. Then there was a prick of a needle and he felt the elastic waistband of his pants being pulled back up. Someone was guiding him back onto the bed.
“This is for your own good,” he heard.
--
Time passed... he thought.
“Won’t you eat?”
--
“Time for meds. Are you gonna take them?”
No, he thought.
--
Where was he?
--
“Silas?”
Who was that?
--
“Well he’s been amazinigly uncooperative, worse than most. Most patients start to behave and submit to treatment after a few weeks, once they learn the alternatives if they don’t. But not Mr. Sevieller, however you would probably know that better than anyone since you are the one that caught him.” The doctor spoke over his shoulder as he strode down the blue linoleum hall.
Sydney picked up his pace to keep up, “In what ways? -not cooperating, I mean.”
The doctor looked back at him for a moment, Sydney suddenly felt as if he were another specimen under the microscope before the doctor returned his attention in front of him again.
“Well the boy is very sick. He used to attack the staff often at first when he came into our care. Before we started to learn how to uh- take care of him properly. He’s broken multiple noses and plenty of other bones of the orderlies. He refuses medication, thinks he doesn’t need it. Consistently refuses food out of insubordination, attempts pithy escapes… won’t engage in therapy nor submit himself willingly to any kind of treatment.. The list goes on and on. However, recently, I’d say the rules seem to be breaking through to him.”
Fitz wasn’t surprised, it all sounded like the young man he had worked so hard to bring in. He still wasn’t sure if psychiatric care was what Silas needed but he felt relief every time he had thought of Silas in here rather than out on the streets causing mayhem…. But the one thing that gave him pause was the word attack… Silas could through a punch but normally not unwarranted, he might’ve fought them but he found it hard to believe that Silas himself was the physical instigator…
He pushed down this puzzlement though as they buzzed through yet another door and reached the end of a hallway. The doctor peered through the window in the door first and then moved for Sydney to see for himself.
What he saw was not what he anticipated. There was a young man in there alright but he barely recognized it as Silas, the only indicator being that shock of dark hair. A much thinner version lay curled into himself and lifeless in the thin iron bed fastened to the floor. His pale eyes were open but his gaze didn’t move from where it was trained on the floor. Silas’s unruly hair had been shaven which made the hollows in his cheeks and eye sockets stand out that much more. A fresh looking bruise bloomed over his right eye creating a sickly mirage of yellows and blues. His arms were folded into his chest and his mouth hung slightly open. 
“What the hell happened to him?”
The doctor looked slightly offended for a moment, “Were you listening? He is on heavy sedation while we train him to willingly take his medication. A lot of our patients require …  proper motivation.”
Heavy-handed then. Sydney didn’t try to probe any further nor apologize for his harsh tone, he just turned away from the window.
“His responses will be delayed or he may not respond at all. It’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Well, I’m not worried about him.” Sydney shot back a little too quickly, bordering on defensive, “This is just a visit to ensure that he was still here- no offense. Er just a peace of mind thing. We both know what he is capable of.”
“Yes, sure, well if you have any trouble knock on the window. The orderlies are close by,” The doctor instructed curtly and took his leave.
-
“Silas?” No movement.
Sydney stared a for a moment before suddenly feeling like he shouldn’t be there. He was raising his hand to knock and to be let back out when Silas spoke.
“I don’t want it.”
“...Want what?”
His eyes pressed tightly together, “Please- I don’t want anymore.”
His voice was so small, such a stark contrast to the last time Sydney had seen him. Visions of that grin flashed in his head.
“Silas, it’s Sydney Fitz, do you recognize me?”
His eyes opened and he slowly looked up, his eyes were so red, it looked like he had been crying. Silas... crying?
“Syd? What are you doing here?” There was recognition but it was subtle and it looked as though he was having trouble focusing on him. He tried shifting to sit up but it was a poor effort.
“Here in an official capacity. Sent to make sure you’re still here. I’ve heard about your escape attempts, you forget that we know you too.”
His eyebrows came together but he didn’t say anything at first, then at last he muttered weakly, “Ya, I’m still here.”
“They treating you alright?” Sydney didn’t know what else to say.
Silas shrank back and looked up at the window of the door like he expected someone to be looking through it. He ignored the question though and instead responded with, “Why am I here?”
“You’re sick, Silas. You’ve committed countless crimes that you were convicted for, you need treatment and care.”
“... Do you believe that?”
“I’m not a psychiatrist, but I do know you did what you did and now people are dead.”
Silence.
“Where did you get that bruise?”
He stared back with no response.
Fitz pointed to his own eye in explanation.
After a prolonged moment Silas seemed to comprehend, he reached up to his own and winced when he found it with his fingertips, “.... You know me, I can’t help but fight it.” An attempt at a smile flickered across his lips but his tone lay flat.
Then the lock turned over and two very large men strode in. Silas shrunk back into himself, again. It was the quickest reaction Sydney had seen out of him yet. He pulled his sheet up further, a barrier.
“Please, please no. I don’t need any more.”
“Sorry sir, but he is on a strict medication schedule.” the nurse or orderly was addressing Sydney to apologize for barging in the middle of the visit. 
“Silas, are you going to take it or are we going to have to give you another shot?”
“No- no I won’t. I don’t need it.”
“Alright get up.”
He didn’t move except to flinch when the orderly stepped towards him and pulled him off the bed and in one move deftly pinned him down so his face was pressed up against the hospital linens.
One of the orderlies looked back at Sydney, “Sorry sir.”
Silas was struggling and doing a poor job of it. “No! Please don’t!”. It was almost too easy for the single man to hold him down as the other one uncapped the syringe that had been in his pocket. Then the first pulled down Silas’ thin hospital trousers. The other quickly injected the medication. Silas watched with considerable horror. And before he knew it the pants were back up, Silas was being lifted back on the bed.
He squeezed his eyes shut, cheeks burning with humiliation.
“Consider taking your pills next time.”
Then to Sydney, “Sir, let us know if you need anything.”
“Uh sure, yes”.
Silas looked back up at him with tears welling but he didn’t say anything. Rather he just pulled up his sheet a few centimeters and then trained his eyes down.
Silas stood speechless for a few more moments, unable to reconcile the brute force so deftly performed with a man he considered so impervious.
“...Silas, why don’t you just take it? It would be easier for you.”
He only shook his head, anger just barely visible through the misery.
--
Sydney couldn’t get rid of the feeling in his stomach all week. The fear of that grin had collapsed into images of a small frame in a small bed breaking down into itself, eyelids fluttering. It was sickening.
Against his better judgement, he found himself back at the institution the next week. That pit he was feeling in his stomach, he couldn’t decipher it. At last he decided that it was intuition, that maybe Silas had been faking it, planning another escape of some sort. To visit him again was the only foolproof way to keep an eye on him. 
“We’ve had to start force-feeding him this week, it is not our ideal course of action but while he refuses to eat, it is the only way. Maybe you can knock some sense into him.” The doctor seemed like he couldn’t care less as he was once again briskly leading Sydney down the hall. 
This time Silas was asleep when Sydney was buzzed in. His face was peaceful again, almost innocent if it didn’t have all the bruises.
Unused to approaching sleeping people, he lived alone after all, he cleared his throat first in an attempt to wake him. When it had no affect, Sydney uncomfortably muttered his name.
“Hey, Silas, you there? It’s me again,”
He only stirred slightly, so he tried again. This week, there were no sheets on the bed, instead it was bare and Silas donned only a straight jacket and thin cotton pants.
After the third time, Silas opened his eyes, he looked like he was trying to rouse himself from the grave. What the hell did they have him on?
“Syd?” he whispered as he found Sydney with his dazed eyes.
“Ya it’s me again, I came back.”
If Sydney didn’t know any better he could’ve sworn that tears welled in the corner of Silas’ eyes, after a few more moments he said, “It’s good to see you.”
Sydney scoffed, Silas would never say that without dripping with sarcasm, “Haha, I bet.”
At this moment, Silas seemed to become more aware of himself and remember the straight jacket he wore, he shifted uncomfortably.
Sydney gestured at it, “They’re really giving you the all-exclusive vacation package huh?”
Silas grimaced at first but found a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Yeah, they treat me like royalty here. They love me so much they don’t want me to leave.” 
“Now that’s the Silas I know,” Sydney chided back.
Silas shifted himself to sit up on the bed, it took longer than it should have and Sydney could swear there was an almost imperceptible groan at one point. How did struggling create so many bruises? He wondered.
“I heard you’re not eating?” Sydney had meant to interrogate his arch enemy on escape tactics, etc. but now that he was here, for some unexplained reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to. 
Silas wilted a bit, but then breathed in again and responded while cracking another smirk, “The food is shit, worse than what they make over at the prison.” 
“Silas, you never stayed there for more than a week before you escaped every time,” Syd chided back.
His grin curled a little tighter, “Oh ya, almost forgot,”
“Well don’t go killing yourself so soon, otherwise who am I going to fight every goddamn day?”
Silas didn’t respond as quickly, “I don’t know but hopefully the next fella has better aim.”
“Yeah maybe make it a little more interesting,”.
Silas had a coughing fit, it was deep and heavy, it sounded painful. The pallor on skin greyed significantly by the time he finished. 
“...You okay? That sounds nasty.”
He straightened himself up a bit, “It’s nothing, the doctor already saw me, just some bug they said.”
Sydney wasn’t convinced but Silas was getting more drawn by the moment, clearly he was getting tired. His eyelids drooped further.
Sydney inched towards the door, unsure why he was feeling something foreign and uncomfortable in his own chest, “You seem like you’re getting tired so I am going to head out, let you get your rest.”
Silas’s eyes opened fully again, “Are you going to come back?” that small, small voice again.
“Um, yeah, sure, I’ll stop by again soon if you want.”
Silas nodded forward a bit and then slowly lowered back down to the mattress, his eyes were closed before the door had locked behind Silas again.
-
“Um, Silas. I have to ask you something. That day… when I caught you-”
Silas wearily smiled and flicked his eyes up to the man standing above him, “Which one? You’ve got a few lucky breaks under your belt.”
“The day you threatened me with a gun.”
The small quirk of a smile dissolved as his face paled.
“I didn’t know who- it was just a blind attempt to stop them from shooting you… Who is Julie?”
Silas looked back up at Syd revealing glassy eyes with a grief torn expression, “Was- you mean was.”
Sydney watched his... enemy- deflate, his shoulders caved in and head hung low.
He blinked the heavy welling tears out of his eyes, not bothering to wipe them away, “She-” He closed his eyes for a moment, flushed with emotion, “She was my little sister.”
He looked back up to Syd with large dull eyes. 
Something panged deep within Sydney, jesus. All of the blood drained out of him, “Oh god, Silas, I’m-” 
“I -I was supposed to protect her. I was all she had.”
Silas choked on his tears that started to come quickly, “But I couldn’t- I couldn’t- save her.”
Blind grief consumed his face. He had never- Never- spoken about it. Not to anyone.
“She never doubted that I would keep her safe. I was ten and she was seven, we were sent to a new foster family. We were just happy to stay together. The father.. He was a monster. He would lock us in the basement for days at time, beat us. One night he came down and he didn’t want to hurt me like he normally did- he went after her-” Another involuntary sob tore its way out of him, “I tried to fight him off- but you know I was a kid- he was too big. He beat me until I couldn’t stand- She was so small- all it took was one hit in the wrong place. She suffocated slowly- I couldn’t do anything for her, I kept thinking that if I knew how to hold her or how to fix it- I held her down in that basement for all night- He didn’t come back down until the next morning. By then she had-” been dead for hours.
Sydney listened in horror as his arch enemy broke down in front of him. Before it occurred to him what he was doing, he sat down on the bed and pulled the agonized man into his arms. Another sob escaped him but he didn’t fight it, he went limp into the strong hold, sobbing into his chest in anguish.
Then the door buzzed, Silas jerked away from Sydney, a panic and crazed look on his tear soaked face.
Two orderlies and a nurse came stampeding in. Silas bolted to the further corner of the bed holding out an open palm, “Please no-” with a strangled sob.
“Silas, you are overwhelmed. You know how this goes, it’s for your own good.”
The nurse looked at Sydney who had also jumped up, “Sir, please get behind us- he’s unstable- not safe like this.”
Sydney’s confusion fell into anger, “He wasn’t going to hurt me- he-”
Another strangled sobbed escaped Silas as the two men grabbed him, forcing him down onto the bed. A third orderly appeared out of nowhere, he immediately began fastening the five point restraints that were previously tucked under the thin mattress.
Silas struggled like a trapped animal, tears still streaming down his face. When each limb was tethered, the nurse approached with a syringe held aloft as the men held his arm still.
“Shhh- it’s okay Silas, this will make you feel better.”
She administered the syringe quickly and the men stepped away. 
Silas turned his head, “Syd-” his expression crumbled again into raw desperation when his gaze landed on his face. But just as quickly as they had tackled him down, his expression began to soften and his eyes emptied.
Sydney was left standing there feeling like someone had wrenched his heart out of his chest.
-
Sydney found himself back at the gates of the hospital with a lump in his throat the next week.
“Mr. Seveiller requests that he receive no visitors at the moment, unless this is official business?”
By the time he got back into his car he thought he might throw up.
Against his better judgement, he went back the next week and was met with the same response. It became a ritual, showing up only to be denied. If he had really wanted to see Silas he could easily feign some official matter and force his way in to see him…. But Silas didn’t want to see him anymore. And could he fault him for that?
And then those tapes landed on his desk one morning, a few months after that awful day. Sydney hadn’t bothered to stop by the hospital in over a month. It didn’t stop him from thinking about Silas. He felt a pang in his stomach when he read the name on the file.
“Hey, Fitz? The loony bin sent over copies of the reports on Sevieller. You wanna see them?”
“Isn’t there patient doctor confidentiality?”
“Not when the patient is a real threat to national security, no. Although I doubt he’s much of a threat anymore… Someone finally figured out how to put that psycho in their place.”
“I’m surprised he talked to the doctors,” Fitz responded in a trained tone of apathy.
“Yeah, I guess they gave him something to get him going.”
A jab of… was it guilt? hit Sydney. They were drugging him defenseless? Even when dealing with someone as dangerous as Silas… it didn’t seem right.
“Sure. I’ll give them a look.” He sighed and tossed the flash drive on his desk, attempting to seem disinterested still. 
“The bastard’s really a wreck, crying like a baby.” The cop gave one last imperious chuckle and picked his coffee mug back to sidle up to another desk.
Syd’s eyebrows creased slightly as he plugged the flash drive in, nervous about what he would see.
First file was a video.
Two men were guiding a drowsy looking Silas into a small plain room. He stumbled clumsily and they pushed him into chair and cuffed his hands to the table in front of him and his ankles to the floor. It struck Sydney as a bit excessive.
“Mr. Seveiller, are you ready to cooperate with therapy today?” A voice from out of frame addressed Silas.
He resolutely shook his head no once, a fire burning in his eyes. Sydney recognized the smoldering flicker, he had seen it so many times before.
“If you don’t begin to cooperate, it means the medicine is not helping your condition and we will have to up the doses.”
Silas glanced at the camera before responding, “The drugs aren’t doing anything but giving me side effects. You and I both know that’s because I didn’t need them to begin with.”
“We’ve been over this Mr. Sevieller, you are in denial, we are only helping you here. If you can’t begin to see that, then your condition is worse than we  thought.”
“I am not in denial, I am not sick, I am just a very bad person.”
The voice hummed slightly and Syd could hear pen scratching.
“Write as many notes as you want, you won’t figure me out and I won’t bend.”
Silas stared down the anonymous man on the other side of the camera with unreserved confidence. He wouldn’t be tamed quite so easily.
The next tape was dated a week later. The men were guiding him back in but they walked more slowly. This time Silas held out his wrists to be fastened down. Then he regarded the other side of the camera with an annoyed grimace.
“Good morning, Mr. Sevieller. How are you feeling?”
He subtly rolled his eyes but elected to hold his tongue settling for, “Peachy, doc.”
“Have the new levels done anything to change your mindset?”
“Other than sleeping through meals? No. But you know, I enjoyed being showered by two burly men this week. An unexpected new perk,” Silas smiled saccharinely, daring the doctor to press further.
“I am afraid you can’t be trusted in the showers after… Monday’s incident.”
-
Two men were dragging him into a bare room kick and screaming. The wrestled him into a chair and attached his wrists and ankles to it like a goddamn animal.
“Do you want to be a good boy today?”
Silas wearily picked up his gaze to look across the table, a solid “fuck you” written over his expression, but he didn’t speak back.
“Well I have something to help you do that. Lucky you.” For the first time, Sydney could hear amusement in the voice behind the camera.
Silas’ expression wasn’t mirthful and ready to strike back like Syd had come to expect, there was frustration and exhaustion instead. 
Someone else came out from behind the camera, they held a syringe aloft as they approached they tethered patient. 
“No no no, get away from me. Don’t come near me with that-” Silas looked… scared?
“You don’t even know what it does yet,” the voice said from behind the camera, “If we agree not to use it, will you behave and talk with us?”
Silas aimed a look of pure hatred bore through the camera lens and to the person owning the voice. It looked like it took strength to shake his head no, just a millimeter. But it was enough.
A sigh, “Okay, inject him. And remember you had an option.”
Silas began to writhe in his restraints, desperately trying to create space from the syringe bearer. More people came in and attempted to hold him down to the table. Silas violently resisted throwing himself aas far within the restraints as he could, likely seriously injury his wrists and ankles in the struggle. At one point he managed to bite an arm and the headless body jumped out of the shot. Another nurse? Orderly? Slammed his head against the table then, temporarily stunning him.
“Do it! Now!” A voice rang out.
Whatever it was didn’t take long to begin working, Silas stayed limp on the table no longer moving, a stark contrast from the scene moments ago. 
“Okay, rouse him now.”
Someone took smelling salts for fainting victims and cracked them under his nose, a faint flinch was visible from his now still body. A strong set of hands then manhandled him back into sitting, pressing him against his chair again. And then checked his eyes with a pocket light. 
The kid squinted in annoyance but didn’t resist.
“Silas, are you feeling more agreeable now?”
Silas looked back across the table as if just seeing the speaker for the first time. 
“Yes sir?” He answered uncertainly, quietly. Even through the camera the dazed look in his eyes was visible. 
“Will you answer my questions and be a good boy?”
Silas remained locked on him, his eyes wide, “ Yes- yes.” He spilled out with uncertainty, as if part of him still knew he didn’t want to do this.
“We just gave you a special medicine that releases inhibitions, forces you to tell the truth, a truth serum if you will. You’ve been very bad but I think you can behave better now.”
Silas just stared at him.
“I want to start from the beginning. Your history. You had a drunken father and a promiscuous mother who didn’t take care of you, yes?”
“She tried to-”
“Yes?”
Silas nodded with his eyes wide, “Yes, she was out a lot. They both died by the time I was eight though.”
“And that’s how you and your little sister ended up in foster care?”
Silas suddenly looked confused as if he didn’t know how this man knew these things. 
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No- yes, the state took our custody. No other family.”
“And that’s how your sister died, in foster care. Did you do it? So angry at the world you had to take it out on someone else?”
Horror made the tenuous expression on Silas’s face drop, “No- no. I didn’t- I couldn’t- I couldn’t protect her-”
“From yourself you mean?”
Tears began to roll down his cheeks but he seemed to not perceive them.
“No, I didn’t- he did it- he-” He was tripping over his words, clearly horrified but mysteriously stuck in a dream where he couldn’t reason, couldn’t fight back and couldn’t stay silent instead of engage.
“You seem to not even understand yourself- sometimes the brain locks away trauma, things it doesn’t want to believe… maybe you need a higher dose next session to get the real truth.”
“He killed her- I didn’t- I didn’t-”
Sydney’s heart clenched so deeply or gut wrenchingly that he didn’t know if he could keep watching. He knew for a fact that he had never discussed with any one else other than him. Now to have it torn out of him… but worse… accused? It was sickening.
“It sounds like it could have been the beginning of your misanthropic reputation, after that you went to the Pelham Boys’ School, where you spent most of your time in solitary confinement for infractions.”
Silas was full on sobbing now, well beyond wondering how a childhood file could be unsealed, beyond the injustice of the forced interrogation they were trying to call psychotherapy… now in a completely detached state of agony.
“Silas, stop it. We are not done. Listen to me-”
But Silas wouldn’t stop, he was completely departed, sobbing and unreachable. 
“Fuck, you dosed him too high for the first time. Fucking waste of time. Take him away, sedate him and let him sleep it off.”
By the time the staff members were around him again, Silas’s tears had stopped but his head was at an odd tilt downwards and his eyes were hauntingly vacant. He didn’t notice when his wrist were unlatched, or his ankles (although Syd could see the angry red welts around each limb) he didn’t even respond when they began to drag him out. 
The voice swore a few more times and then the camera switched off.
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eldritchdraaks · 2 years
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OC-TOBER 2022 :: Day 14 :: Hero/Villain
Whether a player or not, Viiveh will always be a sylph of hope. Although he doesn’t often wear skirts, so a little modification was in order.
This took me 6hrs.
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avvail · 2 months
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prompt #103
“How was I supposed to know you loved me?”
The villain raised an arched brow at them in disbelief. “It was obvious.”
“You threw me off a fifteen story building the other week alone.”
“In the name of love.”
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ownlittleuniverse · 5 months
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snippet #3 - the hero’s getting prepared for a ball
warning: touchy villain (not nsfw), suggestive
The hero felt overwhelmed by the number of hands on their body.
Their head was being pulled back and forth, over and over. Their hair was being tightly braided and brushed into a perfect slick bun. The hero opened their mouth as their lips were being painted blood red by the maids, as well as their nails. Small pearls, black and white delicate flowers with sharp thorns were sewn in their hair like the maids were creating an expensive bouquet.
“You're messing up your lipstick,” one of them said, yanking the hero’s chin and preparing their small brush once again, “Open up.”
The maid swiped over the hero’s lips until the spot was no longer visible. The hero hadn’t realized they were biting the skin.
The hero tried not to flinch when a maid started tightening their corset to an unbelievable degree. It felt like their ribs were being pressed against their organs, like walls were closing in from all ends. Another sharp tug at the corset made the hero gasp. They heard an annoyed sigh. They looked towards the sound and realized they clenched their hands in the maid’s who were painting their nails, messing up the paint job. The maid looked at them with clear malice they were not trying hard to suppress. The made wiped the smudged polish off to start over.
“I’m sorry,” the hero whispered.
They felt like they were messing everything up.
One maid tightened on a black lace choker with small pearls around their neck, pulling it so tight it felt like someone was wrapping their hand around the delicate skin as another maid slipped matching fingerless lace long gloves onto their arms.
After what felt like an eternity of chaos, the maids finally stepped back. The hero took in their appearance.
Their gown flowed to the floor with black and white lace hugging their curves in the right places, small but bold flower patterns all over the dress matching their accessories and hair. The plunging neckline went all the way down to the center of their chest, its edges covered in pearls, thorns and petals.
The maids all smiled at the hero’s regal appearance, but the hero couldn’t bring themselves to do the same.
They didn’t look like themselves anymore.
The hero flinched at the sound of the door opening.
They sucked in a breath as the villain entered. They were in a matching perfectly tailored black suit, their hands covered in black gloves, their gaze cutting through the room like a blade. They looked elegant and menacing all in one.
The hero gulped, keeping their head down as the villain made their way over, their steps echoing across the tension-filled silent room. The hero tried to suppress their growing nerves that started eating away at their body, needing their fingers together, picking at their exposed hangnails.
The maids frantically backed away from the hero. No. No. No. The hero tried to telepathically tell them to come back, not leave them so exposed in front of the tall dark god. The villain’s stare made the hero feel like they were stripping them down to nothing but their skin.
The hero's breath hitched as they felt the villain come right behind their body, their breath tickling their ear. The hero wanted to ignore them so badly, but that would be completely impossible. The villain was not to be ignored.
The hero finally lifted their head and flinched when they made direct eye contact with the villain’s glare in the mirror. The villain kept their hands in their pocket but it felt like their hands were caressing the hero’s waist, making them shiver and their heart beat erratically just from that look they were giving them. Like they could eat them for dinner.
Their voice commanded the room like the creature of power they were.
“Leave us.”
The hero rolled their lips and watched with beading eyes all the maids quickly scurrying out, keeping their heads down.
No. No. Please. Please stay. Don’t leave them alone.
As soon as the door shut the hero’s shoulders tightened with even more fear. The villain's hands came up to the hero’s waist, softly caressing the bodice of their corset. The hero flinched violently.
“You look exquisite,” the villain cooed in the hero’s ear, making them shiver, “But darling, why are you so upset?”
“I-I’m not..” the hero whispered in a tone that wasn’t even convincing to them.
The villain's hands tightened, causing a whimper to escape the hero’s mouth. They hated themselves for it.
“Now, I know my little hero,” they murmured, smiling against the hero’s neck, “I know when they’re not happy, and-“ they ran their hands higher and higher, “I know what their lies sound like.”
The hero made eye contact with them once again in the mirror, the villain's eyes pouring into theirs willing them to open up. After a few beats of silence, the villain dug their fingers ever so slightly. The hero’s heartbeat spiked at the villain’s warning.
“I just…” the hero blurted out, “Everything feels so… uncomfortable—But everyone put so much effort into how I look, and I do look good… but-I.. I feel so ungrateful saying that…I’m sorry,” they murmured looking back down at their feet.
They felt a tear trickle down their cheek. They felt like such a spoiled brat not being appreciative of the time and effort it took to make them look like a beautiful art piece. They are grateful, they just… didn’t feel happy.
The villain didn’t say anything for a moment. The hero made them angry. The villain was definitely going to-
But all they felt was the pressure on their scalp beginning to release.
They looked up at the mirror and saw the villain slowly taking all the intricate accessories out of their hair, making their head feel ten times lighter than before. The villain took out most of the flowers, and let the hero’s hair cascade down their back. It felt so good, so releasing, not having that weight. The hero couldn't have imagined wearing that hair all night, it ripping at their scalp.
“I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, my love,” the villain whispered as they began to take the tight braids out, “You look breathtaking with and without all of this.”
The hero hated how they blushed at the villain’s words, how they knew exactly what to say to make the hero feel all warm when the fear still clawed inside like a bouquet of knife-sharp icicles.
The villain delicately brushed the hero’s running tears away with their gloved finger. The hero couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the villain took a brush from the vanity and began to brush the hero’s hair out. The villain kissed the shell of their ear, making their hero whimper.
“You're a masterpiece, through and through.”
The villain smiled at their hero turning the color of their lipstick.
The villain began to massage their scalp with one hand and brush their hair out with another, making the hero sigh contently, their eyes closing from the pleasure. They let themselves sink into the feeling. It felt… so amazing. They wished it didn’t, they really did.
The villain slowly walked around the hero’s body, never letting go of their hair or scalp once. They watched in contentment as their hero’s eyes fluttered behind their eyelids in pleasure, not being able to resist submitting to the feelings the villain was giving them. They loved having that control over their hero. Their little plaything.
The villain took a small cloth from the vanity and began to wipe some of the hero’s makeup off. The hero’s eyes shot open in confusion, but the villain's one hand trailing down and massaging the knots in their neck made their eyes slowly close again. Their hero sighed in contentment.
The villain was completely obsessed with how their touch could turn their hero into a submissive thing at their feet. How they knew if they trailed their hand and tugged on their little choker that their hero would let out a moan they couldn’t suppress.
They knew them better than they knew themselves.
“I'll have to kill all the people who look past your neck,” the villain laughed. They wouldn’t hesitate to torture anyone for weeks on end who dared to look at their hero in a way that only they could. At the perfect skin that trailed down to their chest that the villain couldn't wait to taste.
The hero’s eyes slowly opened back up as they sighed, looking at the villain. But the hero’s worried face didn’t fade.
“What is it, darling?” the villain cooed.
“I-…”
The villain watched as their hero looked down in embarrassment, a faint rosy blush covering their cheeks.
”Can you undo my corset, just a bit..” they whispered, “It’s a bit too tight.”
The villain smiled. They loved the idea of undoing their hero’s corset.
“Of course I can.”
If they didn’t have a ball to attend, the villain would rip the whole thing off.
The villain tugged at the hero’s choker which, as they perfectly predicted, made their hero moan deliciously. That neck of theirs was so sensitive, they could barely hold themselves back from wrapping their hand around the skin and leaving their mark. They couldn’t wait to memorize every single sensitive place to touch to make their hero’s body writhe. The villain stepped back behind the hero and slowly undid their corset.
The hero didn’t know what to feel about the villain anymore.
They felt safe in their presence, protected and sheltered, but they also knew the villain’s power was something they abused. If they wanted to make the hero kneel for them, completely submit to them, they would. If they decided the hero was being ungrateful, then they were. If the villain wanted to hurt the hero, they could rip them in two with little to no effort. It scared them. But the villain has only been delicate, sweet, and soft with the hero and only the hero. Somehow, that scared them even more.
The hero gasped and their eyes closed at a sudden feeling, they curled their fists into the gown’s skirt. The villain's hand was gripping the hero’s waist as they pulled and pulled at the threads.
The hero’s heartbeat picked up. This felt different than the maids doing the same. The maids loosening and tightening their threads felt like life was being squeezed out of them, like they were a bug being squished between a shoe and the concrete. But when the villain did it… it felt like being wrapped in an all-consuming embrace. It felt like a word starting with L that the villain definitely cannot feel.
The villain’s hand pressed into their back causing the hero to involuntarily arch. Their fingers curled as they tried so hard to suppress their sounds, but the hero couldn’t help but let out another breathless small moan, their eyes clenching. They felt like they lost complete control of their body. It should make them feel scared, horrible, but they just wanted more.
The villain smiled at their reflection in the mirror. If only their hero knew what they looked like right now, their mouth open, their eyes closed. The sounds escaped them over and over. It was intoxicating.
The villain began to tighten the corset again, but this time leaving the hero enough room to somewhat breathe. As the hero’s breathing came back to a steady pace, the villain couldn’t help themselves.
They wanted to hear it all again, to give them an overwhelming sense of pleasure their little hero couldn’t help but submit to. And they wanted to feel it this time, even if they knew the consequences.
The villain ripped their black gloves off and tossed them aside. They wrapped both their arms around their hero, pressing them into their chest, curling them tight. The hero’s eyes shot open as their fingers flexed around their waist.
“Wha.. What are you doing?” the hero squeaked, their voice laced with confusion, panic.. and pleasure.
The villain simply pressed them more into their body. One of their hands came up to pull their choker aside, as their mouth latched onto the sensitive part of their hero’s neck.
The hero gasped. They squirmed in their grasp, at the villain’s lips, at their mouth that started to suck and mark all over.
”Wait!” the hero gasped, the sensations spreading through them, making them writhe. “Everyone will see!”
“That’s the plan, love.” the villain smirked, before going again. They couldn’t wait for all the onlookers to stare in shock. No one will dare touch what’s theirs.
The villain let one of their hands trail back up to the hero’s hair, swiftly tugging them to the side, rubbing their scalp again in a way they knew their hero loved. The hero immediately whimpered as the villain gave themselves more access to their neck.
The hero could feel the villain leaving nasty marks, ones every person at the ball would spot from a mile away. They shouldn’t have let that happen, but it was too late. They didn’t have enough strength to push the villain off, to rip their hand out of their hair, and they didn’t want to. It felt too good… everything was too much and they couldn't help but sink.
They couldn’t fight it anymore. The hero finally let themselves drown in the sea of pleasure.
They closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around the villain, letting their breathless sounds get louder and louder as the villain's mouth trailed from their neck to their collarbone, all the way down to the exposed skin near their chest.
The villain could feel their hero growing more and more into a pile at their feet, which just made them suck their skin even harder. Their hero almost screamed out when they bit into a sensitive part of their collarbone, then soothed the sting away with small delicate kisses.
The hero felt like the villain's hands were burning into them, but not in a way they hated, no, in a way they craved. They wanted it more and more, like a drug. They never felt anything better.
The villain picked up their hero, turned them around and pressed them into the vanity in a frenzy, both of them now breathing heavily and feeling like they just wanted more and more. They both felt so addicted.
The villain began to kiss the sensitive parts of the hero’s chest. The hero looked down at them in shock.
The villain was rendering their hero into a panting, moaning mess.
The villain sucked as their hand massaged their hero’s neck where all their marks now covered their skin. The hero threw their head back and practically screamed.
The villain looked up with pride at their hero’s eyes fluttering adorably, their mouth agape, their hair now a mess, their neck covered in a new red necklace. They loved how much they looked like theirs, and how everyone would soon see.
The villain continued their descent as the hero threaded their hand into the villain’s locks, not knowing if they wanted to keep them there or push them away. Everything felt so sensitive, heightened and feverish.
Their eyes locked for a second, and it made everything feel so much more intense. The hero cried out as the villain bit down gently, before sucking and kissing the pain away. They couldn’t think straight, it was like the villain had cast a spell on them.
The hero needed more, so much more.
The villain, feeling their hero growing impatient by their whines, tugged them close and finally pressed their lips to theirs.
They had thought of this moment for so long, what their hero would taste like, feel like. And they felt like the best thing in the whole world.
The villain coaxed their mouth open and it was like no kiss the hero had ever felt.
Would they even call that a kiss? They didn’t know. Kisses were comforting, sweet in the hero’s head, and this was far from that. It felt intoxicating in a way that humans were not supposed to feel. It felt so wrong, but so breathtaking in a way where they couldn’t stop themselves, they couldn’t. The hero moaned into their mouth as the villain made a mess of them over and over.
The hero frantically reached for the villain’s pants subconsciously, making the villain smile into their lips between their kisses.
They grabbed their hero’s hands, caressing their wrists trying to soothe their little love’s franticness, “Not now, darling.”
The hero only whined at them.
“Oh, you're a needy little thing, aren’t you?” they chuckled, looking at their hero’s disheveled out of breath state. The villain smiled. They turned them into a mess.
“As much as I would love to give your impatient body what it wants,” the villain smirked, making the hero heat up, “We have a ball to get to.”
The villain propped themselves back up, leaving the hero to lean back on the vanity still trying to catch their breath.
They… they didn’t-.. what..
“What was that?” they whispered. Their brain felt like it was still in pieces.
The villain simply tilted their head as they retrieved their gloves once more from the floor.
“I’m not usually… I don't-“, the hero said, their eyes becoming frantic. The villain needed to calm them down, they had a feeling this would happen.
The villain slowly approached their hero, their now gloved hands tucking a strand behind their ear.
“You shock yourself when you realize who you are when you let go.”
The hero looked up at them with the most adorable doe eyes filled with shock and confusion. The villain leaned in close, reveling in the way their hero’s breath hitched and their pupils went wide.
“You should do it more often,” they smirked. Their hero blushed immediately.
The villain couldn’t stop themselves from pressing a soft kiss to their lips.
The villain backed up and extended their hand, an open invitation. The hero looked at it cautiously but took the offer. Their skin felt warm and tingly against the leather.
But not like it tingled against the villain’s skin.
The hero felt more relaxed, the overwhelming anxiety from before seemed to have dissipated.
The villain tugged them along as the hero glanced in the mirror's direction.
They stopped in their tracks.
They looked… completely ruined.
Their hair had strands peaking out, their lipstick smudged, their cheeks so red you couldn’t even see the blush anymore. They looked so dirty, and they knew that everyone at the ball would think the same. They couldn’t leave like this. They couldn’t.
“I can’t wait for everyone to see you,” the villain murmured behind them.
“Like this?” the hero gulped. They spotted their lipstick smudged on the villain’s lips as well. It made their heart flutter in a way they hated.
“Exactly.”
The villain tugged them again, but the hero tried to stop them. The villain slowly turned to glare at them. It made the hero want to gulp down their words, but they didn’t this time.
“I can’t go down in front of people looking like—“
”Like what?” the villain said, their hand coming up to tug the hero’s hair. The hero’s anxiety came creeping back, the villain’s warning clear as day as their grip tightened against their hand and head.
“Like your mine?”
The hero’s heart started to pick up. The villains eyes pieced through them as their hands tightened once more making them whimper out of fear.
“That’s exactly what you should look like.”
The hero wanted to rip their naive little heart out.
They knew they should have listened to that voice in the back of their head. The one telling them that the villain never cared for them. The villain didn’t kiss them senselessly to make each other feel good. No. They only did it to make their appearances look.. well like this.
But the villain couldn’t be more satisfied with the taste of their hero’s lipstick on their mouth.
They spent years being utterly obsessed with someone those pesky royals wouldn’t let them have.
But the villain knew from the second they laid eyes on them that they already wanted to kiss them all over until they writhed. They already wanted to adorn their perfectly smooth skin with their marks, showing the world who they belonged to. They already wanted to devour them until the only thing left was a good little hero for them to play with.
They waited for the perfect time, in a small alleyway that day they decided they were going to keep the king and queen’s daughter all to themselves. The royal family was not happy, of course, but with their precious princess in the villains’ grasp, they were foolish to not obey the villain's demands.
Their hero was still terrified of the villain, kept their head down in their presence like one look would send them to hell. But their little pet was growing more and more perfect by the day, and soon they will be absolutely theirs.
The power coursing through the villain’s hands was something they didn’t use often on their hero, but when they did, it was completely worth it. It made the hero more compliant so to say.
The King and Queen will see tonight, at this very ball, looking up at the staircase in a matter of minutes exactly what the villain has turned their princess into.
The villain released the hero’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to the hero’s knuckles, before tugging them along.
Their hero shivered but still followed their villain.
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invalidstories · 7 months
Text
One Bed
Warnings: Potential emotional distress due to relationships, non-sexual physical intimacy
In the dimly lit room, Hero and Villain found themselves in an unexpected predicament—they were both stranded for the night in a remote cabin, with only one bed.
Hero glanced around the cozy space, taking in the rustic decor and the soft glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. Despite the circumstances that had brought them together, there was a strange sense of tranquility in the air, as if the universe had conspired to grant them a moment of respite amidst the chaos of their rivalry.
Villain stood near the window, their silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken truce that had settled between them for the night.
With a sigh, Hero approached the bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling into their bones. "Well, I guess we'll have to make do," they remarked, their voice laced with resignation.
Villain turned to face them, their gaze meeting Hero's with an intensity that sent a shiver down their spine. "Indeed," they replied, their tone unreadable.
As they settled into the bed, their bodies mere inches apart, Hero couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at their insides. They were supposed to be enemies, locked in an eternal struggle for supremacy. And yet, here they were, sharing a bed as if they were old friends.
But soon enough, discomfort crept in as Hero shifted, feeling the weight of Villain's presence too close for comfort. "I can't sleep like this," they muttered, their frustration evident in their tone.
Villain sighed, a hint of annoyance flickering across their features. "Fine," they conceded, "you take the bed. I'll take the floor."
But Hero shook their head, adamant. "No, you shouldn't have to sleep on the floor. We can find another solution."
Villain scoffed, their pride wounded by the suggestion. "I'll change rooms then," they declared, moving towards the door.
But Hero's voice stopped them in their tracks. "You can't," they said quietly. "I checked. They're fully booked."
Villain's shoulders slumped in defeat, the reality of their situation sinking in. "Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"
Hero hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing their features. But then, with a determined glint in their eye, they replied, "We share the bed. But we'll make a pillow wall between us."
Villain raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "A pillow wall?"
Hero nodded, "It's the best compromise we have. We both get to sleep in the bed without invading each other's space."
With a begrudging nod, Villain acquiesced, and together they constructed a makeshift barrier of pillows between them, creating a fragile boundary between them.
As they both drifted off to sleep, the sound of their steady breathing filling the room, Hero couldn't help but wonder what the dawn would bring—a return to their bitter rivalry, or the dawn of a new understanding between them.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As morning painted the room in soft hues of dawn, Hero stirred from their slumber, blinking groggily as consciousness returned. But as they shifted, they found themselves tangled in a mess of limbs, their body inexplicably intertwined with Villain's.
At first, confusion clouded Hero's mind, their thoughts muddled from sleep. But as awareness slowly seeped in, they couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in the intimate closeness.
With a soft sigh, Hero attempted to extricate themselves from the tangle, their movements gentle so as not to disturb Villain's sleep. But as they tried to pull away, Villain stirred, their grip tightening instinctively around Hero's waist, pulling them closer.
Surprised by the unexpected gesture, Hero stilled, their heart fluttering in their chest as they gazed down at Villain's peaceful expression. In that moment, all traces of loathing melted away, leaving only the warmth of companionship.
Unable to resist the pull of the moment, Hero allowed themselves to relax into Villain's embrace, their lips curling into a soft smile at the unexpected turn of events.
And as they drifted back into a peaceful sleep, entangled in each other's embrace, Hero couldn't help but feel a sense of hope blossoming within them—a hope that perhaps, despite the odds, there was room for understanding and acceptance in even the most unlikely of relationships.
"Love, akin to wildflowers, thrives in the unlikeliest of terrains, sprouting amidst adversity and blooming with unforeseen grace."
Masterlist
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writemeagoodprompt · 5 months
Text
"I can kiss you yet I cannot touch you." They whispered, their hand phasing through their lover's body. "Yet I can touch you but cannot kiss you." They whispered back, their ghostly touch like ice.
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Broke: 
villain: you’re just like me you know
hero: you’re wrong
hero later: what if the villain is right, what if I am evil just like him????
Woke:  
villain: you’re just like me you know
hero: I’ve been trying to stop you, y’know, defeat you, for the last week. It wasn’t for attention, it wasn’t to get your attention. I’m trying to actively stop you because you’re wrong. Nothing you’ve said has been true. No. I’m not like you, I’ll never be like you, I’ve never BEEN like you and frankly you suck. You plan sucks, your fashion sucks, you’re super predictable, I found you in, what, 15 minutes? Maybe less?
So no I’m not like you and when I leave here and you’re arrested. I’m gonna go home and sleep like a little happy baby and not second guess myself because I KNOW FOR A FACT. That I’m right. And when you’re in jail, just like the last time we did this, and you think that I’m still “like you” or “on your side”. Take a second shot at that because if you still think that the only one who’s delusional here. 
Villain: I..
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moodyvoid · 2 months
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DEADPOOL MAKING A DABI REFERENCE
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