Dark Writings

"Now, can I give you this or are we going to have a repeat of yesterday?"

Hero almost snarled at the placating tone. The fucking nerve. Even if they had felt inclined to respond, the muzzle stopped them short.

Villain heaved a long suffering sigh. "Your other option is to be sedated and tube fed. Now, I don't particularly want to do that. I don't think you want it either. But that is the direction we're heading if you don't pull your head out of your ass."

Hero snorted. They would've folded their arms childishly if they weren't already contained in a straight jacket. They weren't about to take anything from Villain willingly. Their kindness meant nothing anymore.

It used to mean the world.

Villain scrubbed at their face. With a huff they got comfortable on the floor, a small distance from where Hero was chained to the wall. "We can't keep this up." The sober change in tone felt like a gut punch. The villain's voice shook gently. "You know you're killing yourself, yeah? And for what? Pride?"

Hero's baleful gaze swung to them at that.

The villain actually smiled at them. Small and watery but it was there. Hero's heart twinged at the sight. They looked back down to a loose thread in their sweatpants.

"There you are. You almost had me convinced that you were already gone." Villain's voice was a heart wrenching mix of grief and hope. Hero felt exposed, far too transparent.

"Let me feed you," Villain half ordered and half offered. They reached out, hands stopping just short of the muzzle.

Hero jerked away, even if their skin tingled at the thought of being touched gently.

Villain's soft demeanor fell, revealing the monstrous strength and determination of them. Everything the hero had once admired, loved, now used to made up their own personal hell. "Fine. I tried the nice way. Now we do this my way."

The hero roared, muffled, and burrowed into the corner of the padded cell.

"Oh, stop the dramatics!" Villain huffed, almost fond. They clamped indomitable hands around the hero's ankles and yanked. With another muffled cry, Hero was dragged out from the corner, falling flat on their back. They flailed their legs, desperate. They got a lucky kick in at the Villain's jaw.

Their face went cold, voice dropping low and dangerous. "That is enough. You are going to eat, willing or not. I am not going to sit here and--" they shifted, tensing, voice cracking with emotion, "--and watch you die." They shuddered, stuffing the softness of them back inside the lethal exoskeleton.

The villain unlocked the muzzle, lingering to brush fingers where it had bitten into skin. Hero wanted to turn away. They felt transfixed. Their skin buzzed at the touch treacherously. Images of the villain tangled on the couch with them flashed unhelpfully to their mind. The villain had been a great partner. Until they weren't.

Hero stretched out their jaw, begrudgingly grateful for the relief.

The villain retrieved the forgotten food container and sat next to them. Hero clamped their mouth closed again, muzzle or no.

Villain rolled their eyes and breathed in like they were shoring up their parience. They probably were.

"Silly me. I thought we were done doing this the hard way." They gave a questioning quirk of an eyebrow.

Hero gave a challenge of a look back.

A smirk curled Villain's lips. "Okay, love." They set the food back down and dove, faster than the hero could react.

After a very one sided scuffle the Villain had Hero pinned against the wall and perched on their lap, legs straddling their hips.

They leaned in and nipped at Hero's ear. "Be good for me."

Hero tried to squirm away and had nowhere to go. "Fuck you," they said, breaking their silence.

An incredible softness touched Villain's eyes before disappearing as fast as it came. "Only if you eat your vegetables."

Hero glared and Villain laughed, the brightest sound either of them had made in weeks.

Hero still put up a fight not to eat but it was one they lost. Villain was slow and steady and played dirty (pinching, holding Hero's nose, even teasing them with their hips).

"Was that really so hard?" Villain asked, pressing a kiss to their cheek.

Hero did their best not to melt into it but they were so tired of fighting. So tired of being alone. So tired of this stupid game of chicken.

Hero felt their face burn, tears springing to their eyes.

Villain faltered. A hand reached up to brush hair from Hero's face.

"Stop it."

"Stop what, love?"

Hero could've screamed. "Stop pretending you care!" They meant to sound cold and scathing but it just came out broken.

"I--" Villain stopped. "I'm sorry, love."

"Stop calling me that!" Hero spat, the tears falling in earnest now that the dam had broken. "You don't get to call me that!"

The villain flinched.

The Hero's chest shook with sobs now. "Don't you get it? You chose supervillain. You betrayed me. Stop trying to eat your cake and have it too. You don't get to have both." They felt like stale, half eaten birthday cake.

"Okay. I'll go. But there's one last thing." The villain carefully reattached the muzzle. "Don't move, okay?"

And then they leaned in and hugged the hero. Hero's nerves lit up electric at the touch, freezing them in place. It was suffocating. It was lifeblood. It was humiliating. It was water in a desert. They jerked, flailed, screamed through the muzzle. But the Villain didn't waver. They fell limp. They'd never admit it to themselves but it felt like everything they didn't deserve but wanted and couldn't have.

They burried their face in the villain's shirt. They could have it for a moment. They could forget the betrayal and all the hurt and humiliation for a moment.

Too soon, the villain gently extricated themselves. "I have to go." Villain stood to leave, empty food container in hand. They paused at the doorway. "I am sorry. I never wanted...this."

Hero stayed slumped against the wall. They just wanted it all to go away.

CW: Emeto (brief mention, not actively described), blood, biting, murder/death, forced to eat, branding, intimate whumper

Over the next four days, Aven was made to drain and kill five more thralls— one a day, plus an extra on the third day when their nausea had gotten the better of them and they finally had thrown up. They had stopped trying to protest anymore... what was the point? Victor only punished them for their protest and eventually coerced them into drinking anyway.

It was the seventh day, now... Seven days of being a vampire. Seven days of hell.

The door creaked open and Aven pressed themself into the corner of the empty, bloodstained room as if it could do anything to protect them from the elder vampire and the thrall that trailed in behind them.

"Please," Aven pleaded, sliding down the wall until they were sitting, knees in front of their chest like a shield. "How many times are you going to make me do this? I-I don't want to— I can't keep doing this!"

"Until I'm satisfied you've had enough." Victor smiled, their voice honey-sweet. They weren't really mocking— it was more like a grotesquely false attempt at comfort. They turned to the long-haired thrall that had followed them in. "Sit."

The thrall sat in the chair Victor gestured to, a look of intoxicated ignorance on their face and their all but blank eyes. A look Aven was sure had been plastered on their own face far too many times in the past. God... that could've been them in that chair. Why not them in that chair and whoever this thrall was as a newly fledged vampire? Why Aven?

They had been a hunter, once. How now had they fallen so far..? Become the thing they so desperately hated?

"Turn around, my darling."

Turn around? "What?" Aven asked, confused. This had not been a part of their routine the last six days.

"I asked you to turn around, darling." Their voice was still so syrupy sweet... it seemed to have taken on a slightly darker tone, now though. Less comforting and more... demeaning.

Aven hesitated, but turned. If they refused, Victor would simply turn them around by force. The young vampire tensed as Victor ran a finger down from the nape of Aven's neck to the center of their back. Despite Aven's lack of a shirt, the touch was cloaked in fabric. Victor was wearing gloves? Aven hadn't noticed that when they'd come in...

"Hold still, darling." With one finger still resting lightly in the center of Aven's spine, Victor placed their other arm firmly across the back of Aven's shoulders, pinning them firmly against the wall.

Before Aven had time to question what Victor was doing, the finger had left their back, only for a white hot pain to replace it half a moment later. Whatever metal was pressed to their back now was cold as ice yet burned like fire—

Silver. That had to be silver. And that was why Victor was wearing gloves?

Why? Why? What was the purpose of this?? Aven hadn't even refused to bite the thrall!

They choked on a scream as it caught in their throat, trying desperately to twist away despite the firm press against their shoulders. In their panic, Aven almost managed to persuade themself that the struggle was doing something— that they could feel Victor's strength give slightly.

But... no. The silver didn't move a centimeter from where it had initially been pressed. And Victor's arm remained steadfast pinning them to the wall.

Finally, the cold of the silver retreated, although the burning sensation lingered several seconds longer. Victor let up on Aven's shoulders, allowing the younger vampire to finally whip around to face their sire.

Aven felt a sheen of sweat, cold and damp across their forehead. In shock, they realized the same was mirrored on Victor's face. They thought for a moment they saw... no, it was gone, then. Although seemingly a bit out of breath, sweat dampening the loose hair that framed Victor's face, the elder vampire was as composed as ever.

Victor held up the small piece of silver for Aven to see as the younger leaned heavily against the wall, panting. It was more than just a simple silver piece. It had been shaped into two cursive words: My Darling.

A spike of anger and anxiety shot through Aven's chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Victor slid the silver piece back into their pocket. "Just marking my creation. So you don't forget. So no one forgets."

"I'm not 'your darling'!" Aven shouted, sliding along the wall to move away from Victor, half afraid of the elder vampire's reaction to their defiance, half too angry to do the smart thing and shut up.

"You are more 'my darling' than you could ever understand just now." Victor didn't sound upset. That only served to fuel Aven's anger.

"You're sick! You are everything I hate about your kind!"

"Our kind." The correction was sweetly insistent, refusing to allow Aven to separate themself.

How had they become the thing they hated?

Victor seemed to take Aven silence as meaning they could speak again. They nodded towards the thrall in the chair. "Drink."

"I don't want to." Aven spat.

"Shall I make another?" Victor's gloved hand slipped inside their pocket once again.

"No—" And Aven hated how quickly their resolve crumbled to ash. "No— god— fine."

They stepped up to the thrall, who still stared in vacant longing at Victor, and tipped their head to the side... leaned in... bit... drank.

The thrall fell to the floor when Aven let them go, body pale and lifeless.

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

I am looking for good yuri/GL to watch. I have crunchyroll, netflix, and hulu with hbo max. Or youtube, ig, but that is far from preferred.

I am looking for good yuri/GL to watch. I have crunchyroll, netflix, and hulu with hbo max. Or youtube, ig, but that is far from preferred.