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avvail · 5 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.

#ask #hero x villain #villain x hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain hero #hero #villain #hypnosis #writing snippet #snippet #writing #my writing #avvail

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ownlittleuniverse · 13 days

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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 · 1 month

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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

#reading #writers on tumblr #hero x villain #invalidstories #short story #hero #villain x hero #villain #villainsxheroes #hero villain #hero and villain #one bed trope #enemies to lovers #old writing

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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 · 27 days

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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 old enemy offered him often. Him and Villain had been fighting for years, long tireless battles that worn both of them out every time, but hero thought it was worth it despite the injuries caused. Because villain would sit next to him in silence after. They'd both share long, quiet moments just existing beside each other in peace after a fight, making him feel oddly understood at a level words wouldn't reach. Villain has 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 last time... or at least say goodbye to them...

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.

#whump #hurt hero #whumpee hero #hero x villain #whump writing #hero #hero and villain #villain #injury #whumpee #heroes and villains #villain x hero #hero villain #whumblr #hero whump #hero whumpee #whump community #character death #angst

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becomingthevlillainsfamily · 3 months

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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 · 11 months

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Without You

(tw: public execution mention, hanging referenced, talk of death and grieving)

[Drabble Masterpost]

“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.

[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!

#death #execution #public execution #death sentence #hero x villain #hxv #hero villain #hero villain whump #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #whump drabble #drabble #scene #writeblr

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kaiwewi · 2 years

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Guilty Conscience

[Masterlist: Renegade Rescue Squad]

Synopsis: a rookie hero has been taken prisoner. Other Villain is looking forward to torturing them. Villain very much isn't.

tw: whump, captivity, talk about torture, gore mentioned

The little hero was a lost cause.

No one ever made a full recovery from Other Villain’s torture dungeon.

Anyone who had been lucky – or unlucky – enough to survive the encounter was in some way irrefutably and irreversibly distorted, physically or mentally. Or both.

Most who’d found themselves here, however, had simply been killed.

From his corner of the too small room, Villain watched Other Villain mock their tied-up captive. The little hero remained stoic, even after the beating they’d received, they still glared up from their no doubt uncomfortable position, slumped on the metal chair.

If only they weren’t this stubborn.

“You’re going to sing for me, pretty bird. Everyone does, sooner or later.” Other Villain dug their claws into the fresh wounds blemishing the hero’s cheeks and wiped the blood dripping down from the hero’s split lip off their chin.

The hero wrenched their head back, out of Other Villain’s grasp.

So much defiance in a body so small and beaten. Any semblance of fight should have forsaken the rookie the moment they’d realised whose clutches they’d fallen into. But the hero had refused to cave, to beg, to give information freely while they’d had the chance to emerge if not unscathed at least with only the few bruises to show for from kicks and punches.

This hero was a fiery thing, a phoenix caged and stripped of its magic, yet still so proud.

Their courage might have been inspiring if it wasn’t so dooming.

Other Villain leaned over the hero’s shoulder from behind and held up something small and metallic for them to see. “I love these neodymium fridge magnets,” they said. “So tiny, so practical, and so strong. Imagine swallowing a few, one at a time, every other hour.” Their mouth twisted into a manic grin. “Doesn’t that sound fun, all those magnets joining together on the inside and turning your guts into a sieve…. I saw that on TV once, wanted to try it on someone ever since.”

They pointed at the hero’s abdomen, purred into their ear. “Aw, just picture it, pretty bird: perforated intestines, digestive fluids leaking out into the body, the bacteria, the cramps, the vicious infections. Absolute agony. What a gruesome way to die.”

Villain rubbed his arm against the sensation of something crawling across his skin beneath his shirt. He tasted bile and swallowed.

Oh god, he could picture it. Magnets clamping together gut walls, tearing holes through soft flesh yielding under the pressure, a subsequent contamination of the abdominal cavity leading to sepsis and death…. It was sickening. Horrible.

It would work.

How depraved did one have to be to enjoy such a notion?

Other Villain’s laughter echoed from the tiled walls. “I'd estimate, it might kill you within a day or two. But that should leave you with enough time to sell out your team’s lovely little secrets for a few painkillers.”

They ruffled the hero’s hair, almost affectionate.

Some of the colour had drained from the little hero’s face – too pale skin now standing in even more striking a contrast to contusions and blood splatters. They stared up at Other Villain with big terrified eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

“Not to your liking? Pity.” Hand still playing with their captive’s hair, Other Villain circled around until they stood in front of the hero. “But don’t you fret, songbird. There are still so many other fun activities the two of us could try together.”

The two of us. So this was between Other Villain and their victim only? Then at least Villain wouldn’t have to play an active role in this sick game.

He hated himself a bit for feeling relieved.

[Part 2]

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rainydaywhump · 4 months

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Whumpcember Day 23: Nosebleed

I love characters with superpowers who get negative physical side effects from using their powers. Nosebleeds, drowsiness, insomnia, shakiness...mmm yes give me all of it

...

So I've actually never gotten a nosebleed, which I guess means I don't have any cool powers lol. How often do y'all get them??

@whumpcember @i-eat-worlds @pigeonwhumps

#whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #whumpcember2023day23 #nosebleed #whump #whump art #whump drawing #magic whump #superhero whump #hero villain #hero whumpee

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miaowmelodie · 6 months

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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 end 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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avvail · 23 days

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prompt #101

The villain’s fingers closed around the sidekick’s throat, digging so hard into the skin, it was already blooming with red marks. They gasped, choking and grappling uselessly at their wrist, but nothing was working. The hero shakily lifted themselves onto their knees, tongue spitting out words before they could stop themselves.

“Stop!” They blurted, their voice shaking. The sidekick’s eyes were wide with terror. “Stop it, just–just let them go. Let go of them. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The villain calmly turned their head towards them. The sidekick squeaked when their grip tightened in a cruel, almost mocking gesture. “And what would that be?”

The hero released a shuddering breath. Their pleading eyes met the villain’s, relaxed and unbothered. Their lips quivered.

“Me?” They breathed.

With the way the villain’s lip twitched into a knowing smirk, the hero knew they had given the right answer.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero villain #villain hero #hero and villain #villain and hero #hero #villain #sidekick #possessiveness #writing prompt #story prompt #prompt #my prompt #writing #my writing #avvail

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ownlittleuniverse · 9 days

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snippet #2 - the villain surprises the hero

warning: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, harmful behavior, touchy villain (not nsfw), depictions and descriptions of physical violence, may be uncomfortable or triggering for some readers, reader discretion is advised.

The hero had been captured again, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and beaten to a pulp until the only thing they could taste, smell, feel, was their blood.

It was routine at this point.

Get captured, refuse to give up information, get a few new scars before their team showed up. At a certain point, these so-called villains became predictable. None of them truly scared the hero anymore.

The hero’s head came up at the sound of a door creaking open then slamming shut, footsteps following behind. They clenched their fists against their restraints, sighing, preparing themselves for another round of mediocre scare tactics.

The footsteps of the person started to become louder and louder, the hero could hear them slowly circling their chair like they were tracking prey.

They stopped right behind the hero, their breath tickling their ear, making the hero shiver behind their blindfold.

Their captors before had never gotten this close, at least without a weapon or some weak verbal threats. This felt… different somehow. It made the hero a bit antsy. Their chest became heavier as they listened to the sounds of the person’s even breathing.

Their gut was trying to tell them something.

Something was wrong-

Their heart stopped when they heard the person’s whispered voice.

“Hello, Darling.”

No.

The hero frantically jerked at their restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it only made the rope dig more into their body. Loud and panicked sounds escaped them as their heart started to beat in their head.

The person only chuckled at their attempts to free themselves.

No. No.

They— there… it’s not possible.

“Did you miss me?”

No. They needed to get out. Tears started to seep through their blindfold, as well as sweat as they jerked their head around. They couldn’t get out, they couldn’t even see where they were. The hero was frantic, horribly panicked, and the villain reveled in it.

The villain was the only one who could evoke genuine terror from their hero. Turn them into a screaming, begging mess at their feet.

The villain trailed their hand delicately over the hero’s neck, wrapping their fingers around them and stroking. The hero let out a choked whimper, their body completely shivering.

“You never thought you’d feel this again, did you?” The villain smiled, “My touch making you deliciously crazy?”

No. They didn’t. The villain was supposed to be dead.

The hero’s breathing grew more erratic by the second, more and more tears streamed down their face, mixing with the dried blood and stinging their fresh shallow cuts.

They saw their dead body. They buried them in that grave. They stuck that knife in their chest so many times they lost count as they watched the life drain out of them. How?

“It’s been far too long, my love,” the villain said, “I think we should relive some good memories.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out and tried to wiggle their way out of their restraints again and again and again. It was a pity, the sight of someone trying to escape the inevitable.

The villain started to slowly lift the hero’s ripped sleeves, rolling them to expose their skin. No. No. No. Anything but that.

The villain watched in awe as their hero completely lost it and tried so hard to escape them, even though their hero was smart enough to know there was no hope. No one was coming to save them.

“Sh, sh, sh,” the villain cooed, their hand sickenly stroking the hero’s neck like comfort, “There’s no need for that, you know you're not escaping me.”

The villain trailed their hands softly up their hero’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They loved how their hero tried to push them off, completely losing it when the villain finally touched their scars.

They had dreamed of touching these sensitive things again. The deep scars they left all over. They hated the scars others dared to leave. They already killed those others who dared to call themselves ‘villains’, who dared to touch the hero. Only they were allowed to touch their little hero like this.

“All our fun times, etched into your skin,” the villain said in awe. Their hero tried to get out of their hold, their sobs echoing across the room.

The scars felt different this time, some of them. The hero must have tried to rid themselves of their marks, but failed miserably. How cute.

Their hero should know better than to try to rid themselves of the villain.

They continued to trace over the uneven skin, the memories of the many long lovely torture sessions they subjected their hero to flooding their brain, and they were sure their hero was reliving it too.

“Stop,” the hero whispered, choking on their sobs, “Please-

“Just like my scars,” they cut in, pressing delicate kisses to the skin making the hero’s body shiver, “I will never leave you, love.”

It has been so long since the hero felt that terror, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins, their heartbeat reaching heights that could kill them. Their breathing was so rapid, their body was in a state of complete shock and panic.

They forgot what it felt like to be terrified, and they wished it stayed that way. They thought they made sure it would.

“But, you did leave me,” The villain dug into one of their scars, making them gasp, reopening it and letting their hero’s blood trickle down their fingers.

“You left me to rot in the ground,”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Let the world forget about me.”

The villain dug in deeper. The hero cried out.

“Let yourself forget about me,” the villain whispered, their breath over the hero’s mouth.

“I’m- sorry.. please— I’ll do-“

The hero jerked and sobbed again as the villain ripped off their blindfold, the light seering their eyes.

“Your begging is pitiful,” they spat.

The hero’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light as they looked up into the villain’s. They jerked their head away. Those same eyes haunted them when the hero slept, even when they thought they were buried deep underground.

The villain grabbed the hero’s chin, digging their nails into the skin and forced their head back up.

“You really thought you could get rid of me?” the villain snapped, venom lacing every syllable.

The hero sniffled, their eyes completely bloodshot from their tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the villain whispered with crazy in their eyes, “and neither are you.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out as exhaustion took over their body. Their body stopped fighting, just twitching every so often from the adrenaline. They were slowly accepting their fate.

“I’m keeping you, Darling,” the villain smiled, stroking the hero’s chin, “and I promise you, this time, you’ll never be able to forget me.”

The hero whimpered a slur of incoherent words in response.

The villain loved their hero like this, shaking and on the verge of insanity knowing what things the villain was about to subject them to. It was a sight the villain was going to come back to every single day. They planned to come back every night, keep them tied up, bloodied and bruised, completely helpless and at their mercy. Then afterwards, they’ll really get to work on molding their hero into perfection.

The villain mercilessly tied the hero’s blindfold into a gag, enjoying the way the hero jerked in response, and took a syringe out. Their hero’s eyes winded, as they tried to plead behind the fabric, but the thing was too tight.

They sobbed. The hero knew what was coming next. They remembered, those memories were burned inside of them. Cut into their skin.

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, kissing their hero’s tear and blood-soaked cheek, “I’ll be all you ever think about soon enough.”

They could only cry and try to plead through their eyes, shaking their head. The villain though had no mercy for them whatsoever.

Their hero betrayed them. They stuck a knife in their heart when the villain let themselves believe someone actually cared for them, they finally let themselves trust and their little hero shattered it.

They stuck the syringe right in their scar. Their hero let out a scream of terror covered by the fabric.

Now it was only fair they would shatter them in return.

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invalidstories · 2 months

Text

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

#hero x villain #reading #writers on tumblr #short story #villain x hero #hero and villain #villainsxheroes #hero villain #villain #hero #enemies to lovers #forbidden love #writing snippet #snippet #writing #invalidstories #old writing

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writemeagoodprompt · 7 months

Text

Aching, wanting, waiting.

That was what Villain was doing. Rotting in a cell, far away from life - from anyone. It made them think, regret and sorrow ate them alive, knowing they caused people their lives.

But they didn't care much for that, no, they cared for one thing and one thing only: Hero.

The beloved Hero, the one they brought down on their knees - pulled them down with them. That's why they were here in this cell, to pay for what they did.

Their love for them had festered into something more: obsession.

So they cradled the skull of their love, muttering - mumbling:

"Oh, how I love you."

#writemeagoodprompt #dialogue prompt #writing #writing prompt #story prompt #character a #character b #dialogue #imagine your ocs #dialovers #tw death implied #obsession prompt #obsessive prompt #unhealthy #hero villain #hero villain prompt #hero villain prompts

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whatiswhump · 1 year

Text

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 ever so slightly unnerved.

“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, “the day you figure out why I do what I do, I’ll admit that you win.”

Silas himself didn’t know why he did what he did. He hadn’t known for a very long time. Maybe Syd didn’t know him as well as he thought he did…

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, “I am sorry our fun has ended so early.” 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 him at first. And anyway he had spent most of his life alone, he savoured 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.

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 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. 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 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, damn 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? 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.

Silas’s face devolved into horror as he stared at Sydney, he immediately lowered the gun and then dropped it like an afterthought. The SWAT team members surged in and tackled him to the ground, he didn’t even fight. 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, his face was utterly blank. He went away with them quietly without ever looking back at Sydney, 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…. 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 he 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 nailed 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?” Again.. So small.

“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.”

“I won’t- I can’t give in.” his eyelids began to flutter weakly, “I can’t give- I can’t-”. They slowed and stopped, almost peaceful… but not quite.

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,” Archie 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 save 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 had 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 believed in me. 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 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 save her, 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 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 a bad boy but I think you can behave better now.”

Silas just stared at him.

“I want to start from the beginning. 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 antisocial and anti-societal ways, 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.