The villain raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise look up from their desk. "You can walk out of that door any time, darling. I'm not stopping you."
"I'd come back. It wouldn't - I don't want to break our deal."
"You don't want the consequences of breaking our deal. You absolutely want to break it."
"People are dying," the hero snapped. "I can help."
"Mm, of course you can. You're a miracle on legs."
"I'm just suggesting a pause," the hero said. "A temporary change of terms. That's all."
"And I'm just saying no."
The hero stopped on the other side of the table, fingers digging into the fine wood in an effort to control their temper. They took a deep breath. Released. Another.
"I'm still yours," the hero said. "I'd still be yours."
"Always. But N-O spells no."
"I'm begging," the hero said, through gritted teeth.
"Is that what that is?" The villain finally deigned to glance up. Their eyes - a dark and stormy night for all bad things to happen in - did not match their light tone. The amused curve of their slight smile. "Gosh. Your standards are slipping. You're not even kneeling or anything."
"Would you say yes if I knelt?"
The villain's head tipped to one side. "No," they said, after a long moment. "But I'd sincerely appreciate the view. Perhaps it might even distract you from this latest bout of self-loathing."
"Screw you."
"But it's so much more fun when you do it, dear."
"This is serious!"
The villain scoffed and merely pointed a finger at the door, expectant and waiting.
The hero's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt but they didn't move.
"Mm," the villain said. "Are you kneeling or are we done here?"
The villain could have lied, they knew that. They could have pretended there was a chance that they'd say yes. They could have offered false hope, only to rip it away again once they'd had their fun.
In the grand terms of their arrangement, the villain had done absolutely nothing wrong. They were even, in their own particular way, being kind.
There was a bitter taste in the hero's mouth.
"It's bad out there," they said, voice cracking. "People need me. They could - maybe it could be fun. You've never played at saving the world, have you? We could do it together. Go together. It could be an experiment. A game."
"Perhaps," the villain shrugged. "But I don't think that would be very good for your mental health."
"This isn't very good for my mental health!"
The villain simply looked at them.
The hero could leave. They could end the deal at any time.
But, then, the villain would simply leave too. An apocalypse slipping free of its gilded cage. The horrors on the TV would seem mild compared to the fight to come.
"I could be back in an hour," the hero said. "You wouldn't even notice I was gone."
"And I could end the world by lunch time," the villain said. "You'd be dead before you had time to be too distressed. What's your point?"
"You really don't care what's happening out there?"
"No."
"You have to care."
"I don't."
"If you're worried I'd get hurt-"
"-I'm not. I'd slaughter anyone who tried to hurt you before they got the chance."
The hero's mouth dried. Their fingers flexed on the table. They wanted to scream. Fight. Throw things.
The villain leaned back in their chair and sighed, at whatever they read on the hero's face.
"You are saving the world, love," they said. "You're here. With me. Do I need to prove that I still have teeth?"
"No," the hero said. "I - no. Thank you."
The villain nodded, just once. "Good. Come here."
"It's okay. I - I'm okay."
"You're not. Come here."
Feeling foolish, and furious, and raw, the hero rounded the desk. The villain's arm wrapped around them, pulling them close. The grip was painfully tight, mercifully impossible to wriggle free from, and so the hero had to settle against them. They could hide the prickle of tears against the deceptively vulnerable line of the villain's neck.
They stayed like that until the hero could no longer hear the screaming beyond the window.
Tw: mentions of illness, vil seems to be on edge and frayed, reader is fem, yan themes to come, a overblot vil, mirrors used as portals, monster/non human, horror, vil and reader are married, this is set after nrc so reader didnt go back to their world. (Make sure to read the prologue part 1 continues from that!)
You had closed the door behind you and then quickly rushed down the halls to the library on the 2nd floor. You were sure that there would be records of any illnesses or causes for such a substance to be coughed up. There might be ways to cure that…
When you arrived at the library you saw that the blinds were closed causing the room to be cast in a slight shadow-the sun wasn't shining through and it made you shiver. You quickly went and opened the blinds letting the warm light seep in and onto your skin. With the warmth returned you felt a bit motivated to find the cause.
After some time-a little over an hour and a half you hadn't found anything. No mention of coughing up any black substance being part of an illness. You were placing some books back when you heard the loud echo of the library's door open, the heels clicking on the marble floor made you realize that Vil was the one who had entered.
Quickly you placed the books back and went to crouch behind the shelf, You could hear some sense of urgency and franticness in Vil's mutterings-you tried to listen and make out what he was saying but your hearing failed.
Vil walked into the area where you were and his face was contorted into one of frustration and almost madness…it worried you deeply, what exactly was he hiding from you? The sound of a book being thrown to the floor snapped you out of your thoughts and you peeked between some books.
Vil was in front of a small table with a mirror, the thing he threw was a journal-at least based on the sheets that were open. Vil had his hands in his hair breathing heavily to calm down. Then his whispers got louder until you could fully hear what he was saying.
“I won't let it take her, I will not allow it. I must get rid of him!”
You were now extremely worried over what he was talking about-for some reason his words brought you a sense of dread. You felt it again…sometimes you would feel the air drop ever so slightly and it felt suffocating….You hadn't thought much but you wondered if this was somehow related to vils…problem.
You looked back to Vil and in that split moment-due to your surprise, you let out a gasp. In the mirror behind Vil you saw someone-something that looked like Vil-but it didn't. The figure was covered in black tar and had a golden crown adorned in peacock feathers, near its eye was a violet flame that glowed. Its black sharp hands moved-closer to Vil almost as if trying to claw him. It had taken the form of Vils ugliest side…his overblot.
In that moment you lunged forward with panic and knocked Vil down to the floor. He wore a face of unbelief once he hit the ground-you lay on his chest with heavy breaths as you looked back at the mirror. There was nothing there.
“Potato…? Since when…why were you in the library?”Vil asked still in surprise
“I was…i was worried about you! I saw it! There in that mirror! And you have been coughing this thick black substance! I'm your wife so why are you hiding it? If you're ill you should tell me!” You went on a small rant-fast paced as your eyes teared up slightly be it from frustration or panic.
Vil stayed silent processing all your words before sitting up right and holding your cheek-he kissed your cheek chastly and wiped your tears.
“I'm sorry I've brought you distress Reader, Lets…convers somewhere more private and ill explain yes?” He responded while casting his eyes over the reflective surface.
His hand gently held yours as he stood up in a swift move. He held your waist while rubbing circles on your knuckles. You stared at his hand as you tried to calm yourself, were you going mad? Surely your sanity wasn't waning…
When you arrived in a small room-your flower room Vil looked around once and then sat down at the small tea table. You looked at him expectantly, Vil held your hands with a small tremble which he never did before this.
“I believe….that some entity is haunting me-us…and I've heard it's whispers and wishes, it wants to take you away for itself.” Vil looked from your eyes to your hands with worry and uncertainty.
You didn't know what made you more scared-his words or his worry.
“Vil, I believe you okay? But that…is that why you have been coughing up that tar?” You weren't sure if this was connected but surely something bad had to be tied to this.
But the questions remain. How did Vil end up being haunted by that thing? What was it? For what reason did it want you? Could it hurt you physically? One look at Vil's face and you knew he didn't know either.
“I believe so…i tried to get in contact with Malleus-i thought it was a curse but he didn't sense a drop of magic that would correlate to a curse-even Lilia didn't know.” That was concerning-Lilia had lived through many things and seen a lot of things yet he didn't understand this?
This was more than a simple curse and its weight caused both of you dread, you didn't know what it was. Determined to find a solution you and Vil decided to make a note, A book filled with things he knew and things you saw or noted.
In the first pages you both wrote nonsensical things. You wrote a recipe and he wrote acting lines, this was to hide the contents from it. The real notes started on page 5
“Vil, do you know when it started?” You asked with pen in hand.
“Yes, I believe things started to..torment me March 5th. I was being driven home after a group meeting with some modeling director.”
Nodding you jotted that down and then asked “Is there a reason why you think it was this day?”
“I believe it was this day because one of my co-stars saw an antique shop and begged us to stop by for just a moment. I remember seeing some eye-catching things so I decided to accompany them along with our manager. In the shop there were sections-the one that drew me in particular was the jewelry section, there were lockets and other accessories.”
“Did you buy any or bring them home?” you inquired
“Yes but it's not the jewelry that I believe is the problem.” Vil let out a hasty breath and looked to his lap.
“While i was looking through the things i got a call from you-it was a video call”he said
“Oh! It was the shop..” You suddenly felt guilty, yet you didn't understand why.
After a nod he talked a bit more seriously “I answered while looking through the things and you were talking to me about your client-I had placed the phone on a shelf pointing at me but from the corner of my eye i saw through a mirror that someone was looking in the direction of the phone-at you. That unsettled me and I turned to tell the person it was rude but there wasn't anyone there. I looked back to the phone and the mirror and I saw a shadow-like hand trace your face.”
Hearing this you felt the air in the room drop and a shiver run through your body-you were unaware of such an event happening-you don't remember seeing anything unusual that time. Yet you believed every word-like it was something your gut knew.
You let out a small shaky breath and then motioned for Vil to continue.
“That had caused me more panic-after all we had our fair share of problems at NRC. What concerned me most was that it seemed to want you-it made me feel like I was in its way.” Vil's hand went to brush his hand to your cheek softly.
“And how could I let that thing have you my sweet potato?” you leaned in and put your own hand over his before placing a chaste kiss on his palm.
“I know you wouldn't Vil, and I would not choose that thing over you. I hope you know that..”
“I do, and I'm so lucky to have you dearest.”
As the two of you conversed more in the safety of the room, across the manor in Vil's own study the entity was growing more and more annoyed, it didn't know where you two had run off to and blot seemed to seep more from its being. His elegantly yet terrifying voice whispered to itself before banging on the mirror. Its noises are silent and confined to the mirror.
It knew that Vil was keeping you from him-it knew that it was convincing you with his gentle hands and kind voice. It was going to rip him to shreds for keeping one such as yourself to himself. Even in this form could he not convince you to gaze upon him with the warmth you gave the real Vil? It wanted you-your gaze and everything that made up your self.
