The window had been insultingly, suspiciously easy to jimmy open.
Hero should have known better. They ought to have followed protocoln and brought their walkie talkie, but their teammates had insisted that since Hero had broken into hundreds of other villains' lairs without so much as a hitch, it would be better to get in and out of enemy territory as quickly as possible, unburdened by time-consuming status updates.
Though this Villain–their Villain, who had, out of nowhere, began to take particular, worrying interest in Hero–freaked them out more and more with every new detail they learned. Case in point: their eccentric taste in interior design.
Hell, what kind of a madman sleeps in the same room that they work on their evil plans for world domination? They landed on their feet with a gentle thud, left the window slightly open, and began their search. They rustled through bookshelves and drawers, acutely aware of the Villain's calm, sleeping form laid beneath the covers of a massive bed in the center of the room. In the dark, it was difficult to make out their face (their disarmingly gorgeous face, at that)–urgh, Hero, stay focused. They willed themselves not to look behind them.
The air smelled of sandalwood and heady perfume, almost lulling them into a sense of groggy relaxation.
Hero had just found the asset, a sleek black box embalzoned with the Villain's initials, when the warm bedside lamp flickered on.
"Well, well."
Hero whipped around, but wished they hadn't.
Villain locked eyes with them, yawnig and pretending to stretch out of the weighted blanket they were snuggled in, draped in their evening clothes, shirt unbuttoned and hair tousled. Their wore a predatory, smug smile.
"Oh, what a fright you gave me! I thought a mouse had scurried into my bedroom." They swung their legs over the side of the bed, not looking away from Hero's shaking, stiff body for even a moment. They licked their lips. "Hey, did you know mice are my favourite animal?"
Hero lunged for the window.
Villain was faster.
The two collided and Hero's back hit the bookshelf hard enough to knock their breath (and a few priceless antique books) out. Villain shoved their forearm across their chest like an iron bar.
"Fuck–you! Let me go—"
"Shh." Villain's free hand came up, fingers brushing Hero's jaw, tilting their face toward the light. "Wouldn't you want me to get dressed first? How eager you are to get into my pants!"
Hero's heart slammed against their ribs as they wriggled in place and tried for a kick. "I'll scream! I've got a hell of a set of lungs–"
"Please do, little mouse." Villain's thumb traced Hero's lower lip. "My henchmen know better than to interrupt. And I so enjoy your pretty sounds."
Hero twisted in their grip, freed one knee and struck Villain in the hip. Villain only chuckled, low and dark, using Hero's momentum to press back and rock against them. Hero squealed and tried not to roll their eyes in unexpected pleasure.
Without warning, Villain yanked them by the shoulders and threw them onto their bed, still warm from where Villain had most-definitely-not-really-been-sleeping. Oh god, were watching me the whole time?
Velvet, soft as sin, the pillows and blanket swallowed Hero whole as Villain came down on top of them with their full weight. In a flourish, they threw the blanket over the both of them, forming a protective dome, and trapped hero chest to chest, rocking their hips into the trembling cradle of Hero's thighs, casual and deliberate and possessive all at the same time.
Hero couldn't stifle their gasp.
"Not much of a screamer after all, hm?" Villain purred, as their hands found Hero's wrists, pinning them above Hero's head. The movement pulled Hero's shirt up, exposing a strip of bare skin to the cool air, to Villain's hungry, overpowering gaze. They wrenched their head to the side, eyes screwed closed, but that only allowed Villain to nuzzle into their bared neck. "I've thought about this ever since I laid my eyes on you, you know. What it would take to get you underneath me..."
"Please, please get off–"
Villain's free hand snaked down, over Hero's ribs, giving a cruel flick to the skin above their hammering heart, down to the dip of their waist. The fingers twisted just above the waistband of their pants, teasing them down. Teeth grazed the sweat-slicked nape of their neck, sucking and nipping.
Hero's mind went stark white.
Think. Think. Think! And because panic, fear arousal conspire to make fools out of us all, Hero came up with a ridiculous escape plan.
When Villain's fingers twisted in Hero's grip, shifting their arms further up the headboard, Hero clasped them. They wrapped their own fingers around Villain's and squeezed.
"Please," Hero begged in a whisper, voice cracking. "I'll give it back. Please don't—just don't hurt me—"
Villain's eyebrows climbed, amused. It was the first time the normally calm and collected Hero had broken down like this, and oh–all for them and them only!
"Fuck. My darling mouse." Villain flashed their teeth and squeezed their fingers, almost gentle enough to be romantic. "I'm going to do far worse than—"
The swift, practiced movement was faster than Villain could have predicted, faster than Hero expected. They twisted Villain's captured wrist until the joint popped.
The sickening crunch of bones snapping filled the room.
Villain let out a raw, wholly undignified shriek. They bucked off Hero, giving them the chance to spring away and press themselves into a corner. Villain clutched their wrist, doubling over as they sank to their knees beside the bed.
Hero patted their body and felt a surge of relief as the weight of the box was still in their hidden pocket. Villain's wandering hands hadn't reached far enough. But a snarl and suffling forced them them to inspect the mangled hand. The sharp bone pressed taut against the skin, dangling at an angle that made Hero's stomach lurch.
Oh god. Oh god, that was so uncalled for. Now I'm really going to die.
"Villain, I—" Hero's voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I didn't—let's just stop, okay? Let's take a minute. You need a doctor, I can—I can call Medic, and then we should take a nice, long overdue break from each other–for a week, or however long you need—"
They were cut off by Villain's choked, wet laughter. Hero's blood went cold.
Villain gazed up at them, with completely drunk eyes. Glazed over and shimmering and aflame. Their good hand came up, the twitching fingers reached for Hero's wrapped gently around their broken wrist.
Villain's thumb traced a lazy, adoring circle over Hero's knuckles.
"For such delicate fingers," Villain murmured, voice dripping with honey and lace. "you certainly know how to make a mess of me."
Hero recoiled with a shudder. Why were they still holding Villain's hand? "Stay back!"
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere." They gave Hero a cheeky come-hither flick of the wrist. "But you can come to me...ah, care to try the other hand? I'm ambidextrous, be warned–"
Hero did not need to be warned twice. They sprinted out of the window and into the moonlight, head spinning, cheeks flushed. Villain only reclined their head on the bedpost, watching Hero leave with half-lidded, pleased eyes.
I'm gonna need far longer than a week to recover from that ordeal.
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he's beautiful i literally need to put him under extreme psychological stress. i need to put him in extreme physical pain. i need him curling up in someone's arms for the feelings of safety and comfort he hasn't received in ages
[im thinking this would take place quite early on between milo and astrid. some of their first interactions. im choosing to make milo’s name a big focus point for him. pavlov ? ish i guess. im imagining its like his activation phrase; no matter where he is, when he hears his name in astrid’s voice, he’s immediately at her mercy. this is kind of insight to how she starts to build that up?
1.1k words, artwork at the end of milo and astrid
cw: minor psychological torture, manipulation ? evildoing?, this one is not very graphic, not proofread
enjoy! ]
The only things keeping Milo’s body upright were the tight restraints around each of his limbs. The metal and heavy duty leathers of the binds, sealed with zero room for movement.
He slumped his head to the side, the metal bar and claw at the back of his neck keeping him facing forward. But he needed any relief he could get.
The countless hours spent in this chair drained him. Not the faintest strength left in any of his muscles. He didn’t need to move or shift to know that each metal band had left sore and raw marks across his body. If he even had room to shake, he was sure that every fibre of his being would quiver in pain and fatigue.
He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open, everything nearly blurring into a blank state of white noise. Yet he wouldn’t dare close them.
Every time he passed out—be it from sheer exhaustion—or every time he closed his eyes for just too long, everything got so much worse.
The main screen in front of him was a simple computer monitor. Its brightness was maxed out along with its sound. The news channel had been covering a missing persons case over the last couple days. It was a friend of a friend. One of Myra’s best friends.
Milo knew Myra wouldn’t be able to find her on her own. She was anxiety prone and easily distractible. Any low-tier villain could freak her out and mislead her easily enough. It would definitely distract her from doing any work too. Just leading to more casualties.
Milo would at least be able to help. Get her back on track. Get the team back together.
Maybe even worst of all, Myra was friends with regular people. Astrid had probably just planned this all out to torment him. Start putting wedges in his team- just making him feel like more of a loser of a team leader.
It was his own damn fault he’d been kidnapped and imprisoned for multiple days at this point. At first it was bearable, while he was alert. Astrid had placed him in a room with light and electricity. Which would be a stupid move on her part since that was basically his whole thing.
Only Astrid wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t make a stupid move like that.
As the hours were passing, it was becoming harder to think. Tens and hundreds of active investigations, cases he’d already been working on, even a classic cat up a tree. A huge and luminous display of all the ways he was failing to protect his city. Countless people in need. Disasters and accidents alike that he could have easily aided in.
Then social media gossip. People speculating he’d just ran away. Maybe he was on a vacation at a particularly bad time.
Selfish. Useless. Coward.
Even his own fans were beginning to doubt him.
Occasionally Astrid would mute every channel but one, forcing him to hear whatever tragedy or slander was being broadcast.
Then the screens shut off all at once, plunging the room into immediate darkness. Milo’s heart spiked even higher than he ever thought it could. He couldn’t look around but he knew she was here.
He heard the door behind him open, dim light pouring in. Time stretched on forever, Astrid’s footsteps echoing in the chamber, taking her sweet sweet time.
Then a hand, hovering over his shoulder not yet daring to touch him. Instead of heat, he felt the cold of her hand radiating from her skin.
She had never touched him, only hovered. Until now, when she placed down her hand on his shoulder. Even through the wearing fabric of his suit, he could feel the sting of it. Like the tingling sensation of being freshly slapped. Only she need only graze her finger across his skin to send sparks running through him.
It was well-known, Astrid had a deadly touch. A kind of electric poison that could bring any creature to its demise.
Perhaps after all this time, she’d had enough of torturing him. Milo closed his eyes expectantly … only to be met with another sting on his other shoulder.
His muscles jumped and spasmed involuntarily, pressing his raw skin harder into the restraints. He let out a muffled whimper.
Astrid hummed in satisfaction.
“Milo …”
She said his name breathily, leaning in close to his ear.
It was the only sound he’d heard in days that was soft and gentle. Each time she entered the room, she always said his name first. It was becoming an addiction to hear.
At first it was venom. A bitter thing used to taunt him. She always entered the room at the perfect time to keep him awake. Always interrupting right before he could dissociate from the noise.
Then it was solace. She’d shut off the screens and the chaos. She wasn’t even mean.
He could listen to her say his name over and over again, if it would just mean he could be at peace.
Milo’s eyes were beginning to well with tears, after finally closing them for longer than a few seconds. The bright lights and lack of sleep were heavily drying.
“Milo, I know you want to rest your eyes but we can’t have that.”
With his mouth taped over, all he could manage was a muffled scream as Astrid pulled open his eyes. For the first time, using her bare hands against his face.
He felt awake all at once. The sensation of thousands of hot needles pricking his skin, ricocheting between his bones. Combined with her cold skin, Milo felt white hot pain sear through him.
“Shush darling, no need to scream,” only Astrid dug her fingers into his skin more, gripping his jaw in her hands. The layer of tape only helped a bit.
Milo choked, his dry throat barely letting him scream at all. Tears were beginning to slip from the corners of his eyes.
“I can make all of this go away.”
Astrid tenderly wiped his tears away. Though really only eliciting more, sending blows of sharp pain straight through Milo’s skull.
The pain and saccarine tone of Astrid’s voice pulled at any remaining thoughts from Milo’s head. Almost nothing kept his mind tethered down as Astrid continued plunging her fingers into any exposed skin she could.
“Just focus on my voice Milo.”
Each letter of his name rolled effortlessly off her tongue. Even as she made him thrash against his restraints, she didn’t say it with any contempt. Not like the hundreds of news anchors, fellow heroes and sidekicks, or even his own fans.
She always said his name slowly and with care. Like he was the most precious thing in the world to her.
“Breathe in and out. Slowly …” she loosened her grip. “You don’t have to think about what’s going on outside. Just listen to what I say.”
Hero is kidnapped by Villain. Restrained, stuck in a dark and isolating room. Forced to watch and listen to an onslaught of news reports, social media posts, ransom videos even.
Constant reminder that every minute they remain stuck at Villain's mercy, the more people they can't save. Hero being such an important figure, some of the other heroes struggling without them for support. The city failing to save face at the news of Hero going missing. Hero's own friends being kidnapped or involved in 'accidents' at just the wrong time so they can't go save them. Hero being forced to stay awake for days, watching Villain's organized chaos fall into place.
The only time Hero can even rest their eyes is when Villain enters the room, turning off the screens for a moment and using a sickly-sweet voice trying to lure Hero in. If only Hero just listened to Villain. Stopped worrying about everything else happening in the world ... just focus on their voice. Everything else could just go away.
At last Hero escapes, but after returning to work they hear reports coming in for their next mission. So similar to the hundreds of videos and audio they were kept up to listening for days. Flashes, screams, awful things happening to such good people and they couldn't save them. They couldn't save any of them. They couldn't do anything. The world is caving in around them. They were so weak and so useless and so afraid.
Nobody else had soothing enough of a voice to help calm Hero. Even when they said all the right things, nothing could drown out the noise.
Until Hero ends up at Villain's mercy again. But this time begging to be told sweet nothings. To have all their awful thoughts taken away. Use that sickly-sweet voice to empty their head and take all this pain and anguish away from them.
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"Give up control" this, "you're totally under my command" that. What about aggressively trusting and safe hypno. What if I made them brainless and empty with the promise that everything is okay and that I love them. What if I held them gently and reassured them the entire time What Then
[thought i’d provide some extra musings on what the mini comic entails. this is from Milo’s perspective to bring more context to the comic’s story. i never write in first person so hopefully this is fine LOL.
astrid is the woman in the first panel of the comic. this is not proofread! just for fun!
cw: minor cursing, blood, minor gore, death, suggestive themes in the comic, mc is under hypnosis which compels him to do ..bad things, umm lmk if i missed something
@villainwithacrush was the original inspiration for this comic]
—
I remember my first time.
Her name was Melissa. She wore huge pearl earrings, a nice silk blouse, and had an impossible amount of hair. It had no doubt taken her a while to get ready.
She brought me a dozen red roses with a hand-written card: To my Sun-Ray. Around her neck was a sun pendant necklace. One of those fan-made necklaces that were higher quality than the official merchandise. She clearly wore it everyday, fiddling with it out of habit.
I’d never actually been on a real date before. Never had the time. Though this wasn’t really a real date.
Melissa, like many others, was just a fan. A follower. Someone who thought they knew me, watched me on tv, made edits of me. A completely parasocial romance.
She could barely keep eye contact, stumbling over her words. Whether for courage or if she was just an alcoholic, she was already wine-drunk when she arrived to dinner.
Astrid picked the restaurant. She picked the time. She picked Melissa. But most importantly, she picked me.
So even as Melissa twirled her hair and bit her lip, all I could think about was how happy Astrid would be once I killed this girl.
“Just stand still for me, Melissa.”
”Of course, Mr. Sun-Ray … what are you gonna do to me?”
Melissa giggled, clutching the paper-wrapped roses to her chest. She gazed up at Milo through her lashes, licking her lips.
Energy crackled between my fingers, pulling the light and electricity from the nearby streetlight.
Though I thought it’d be obvious to not follow a man you just met into an alleyway at night, Melissa had happily obliged.
To muffle the blast, I shoved my hands against her. The pulse of energy sending searing hot pain directly into her abdomen. I felt the heat of the concentrated light cutting through her silk blouse, then her skin, then her muscle. The light faded and was replaced by the warmth of her blood instead, gushing into my flattened palms.
I felt her tattered muscles rippling as she recoiled and tensed with the shock of it. Her eyes met mine, wide with panic.
My heart palpitated. A sudden visceral stab through my chest at the look of horror in her eyes.
Melissa opened her mouth. Perhaps to scream, shout for help, maybe even try and catch her breath. Nothing came out.
I let her body fall with a wet thud to the alleyway asphalt. The roses crushed from her tight grip. Her nice silk blouse greedily soaking her blood.
Looking down, I hadn’t done a very good job at covering the blast. I tried to wipe the viscera off my face and chest, only smearing more blood onto myself.
I gasped for air, none seeming to enter my lungs. I felt my ribs turning to ice, refusing to flex and let me breath. My feet too, seemed iced to the ground.
I remained fixed in place. Only my quivering, blood-stained hands and the lifeless body of Melissa were in focus. My first ever date.
What the fuck was I doing? Heroes weren’t supposed to interact with fans, much less go on a date with one.
I’d fucking spent all night flattering this girl who wore unofficial merchandise of my own symbol. Not even trying to hide my identity because Astrid told me to wear my suit.
The blood was beginning to clot and soak through my suit. Tears welling in my eyes, beginning to sting.
My throat was so dry.
I should’ve prevented an alleyway murder. Not committed one. Why did I do this? Why the fuck would I do this?
“Milo.”
And then I heard her voice in my head. She wasn’t here but I could feel her voice, her presence all around me.
Instead of shaking like a pathetic and discarded leaf in some random alley, she’d tell me to lick myself clean. She’d tell me to lick the blood from my hands. She’d wipe the tears from my eyes and gently kiss my forehead.
I could see Astrid smiling down at me. She hadn’t used me. I’d just been useful.
I gathered Melissa’s body in my arms. Her guts were beginning to slip through the open wound in her gut. There was so much more blood in there than I thought.
Like a cat bringing home a dead bird, I’d happily present my prey.
If she’d just smile at me once more, then I’d kill as many people as she liked.
[the comic itself has some of Milo’s internal dialogue. throughout his story, he begins to crave the mind control that astrid puts him under. especially as he commits more crimes, it becomes not just about escaping his responsibilities as a hero but to really bring him peace.
also like, i’d let a hot woman manipulate me. let’s be so real here.
if you read all this, i hope you enjoyed and thank you!]
final designs are actually still in progress but i wanted to talk about what my short comic covers. within their world, heroes and villains are both glorified and celebrity-like. this also means that even heroes and villains have super fans, stalkers, and the like.
in the comic, the final panel depicts Milo (hero) murdering a woman. throughout his journey to corruption, Astrid (villain) sends him to lure his obsessed fans on dates and .. y’know, murder them. proof of devotion to her. going against all his morals and everything he had fought for because why would any of that matter now that she was here?
Milo is of course heavily manipulated via hypnosis, not even really the person he used to be. But life is much more peaceful when you don’t have to worry about how to act, what to say, what to do.
I see him as a chronically stressed de facto leader of heroes. Good at leadership, but damn tired of it all. Astrid doesn’t even really have to try to put him under her spell, it’s just like he’s been waiting for it.
my inspiration for Astrid and her motivations is a little different. her actual main powers are more of a poison/deadly touch. she becomes obsessed with Milo when she realizes his invulnerability would allow her to touch him without killing him. except no one would just accept her after all she’s done, all the lives she’s taken. she has to make sure he can’t ever escape her, question her. she’ll keep him in a golden cage. she can finally have a pet like she’s always dreamed of!
i’m working on some writing in between the artwork and mini comics because it’s just me so all this stuff takes lots of time and planning. i’m very open to any collaboration and extra musings on the story and characters. it’s a very work in progress and small personal project so really i’m just having fun here.
i’m working on a second mini comic and finishing the first one over the next few days. i may further render but please enjoy the first panel of the comic for now and a bonus of my planning sketches for the comic.
your post about the hero enjoying mind control got posted to pinterest and surpassed the target audience. this person's response is frying me they got clowned on so hard
clearly theyve never seen anything this site has to offer
fascinating response. I'm curious what they think ethically about people writing villains?? I feel like my post was phrased in a way that makes it obvious I'm just playing toys here.
anyway reblog if you enjoy expressing monstrously evil desires on the public internet
was influenced by the pinterest upload! got to say I am obsessed with this blog and most certainly enjoy expressing monstrously evil desires on the public internet. here are my original characters who are partially inspired by the og post among other things. i may finish this later .. I’d also be happy to share more about them if this resonates with anyone.
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