The city trembled beneath your reign. You were no mere villain; you were a force of nature, a calamity wrapped in the flesh of a woman. Blood painted the streets like an artistâs masterpiece, and the world whispered your name in fear. Some called you a monster. Others, the end of days.
But sheâoh, she called you something else.
You felt her eyes before you even saw her. Lurking in the shadows, her gaze was an arrow aimed straight for your soul, heated, obsessive, and sickly sweet. A villain in her own right, she was known as "Nocturne," a woman feared for her unpredictability and cruelty. Yet, compared to you, she was just another player in a game you had already won.
So why did she smile so lovingly when she looked at you?
---
The first time she tried to approach you, it was almost amusing.
You stood in the wreckage of a fallen hero, their breath rattling in their chest as your boot pressed against their throat. The city burned around you, sirens wailing in a pathetic attempt to reestablish order.
Then, she appeared.
Draped in black, her violet eyes gleamed under the blood-stained moonlight. She had that look againâworshipful, longing. You barely glanced at her as you ended the heroâs life with a final, satisfying crunch.
"You're magnificent," she whispered, stepping closer.
You turned your gaze to her, expression unreadable. "You're in my way."
She shivered, her lips parting as if you'd just whispered the most intimate confession. "Say that again," she nearly begged.
Your brows furrowed. Most people cowered before you. They ran. They screamed. Yet this woman⦠she looked at you as if you were salvation itself.
Strange.
You left without another word.
---
She became persistent after that.
Nocturne began following you, leaving little gifts in her wakeâcorpses of those who had spoken ill of you, jewelry drenched in blood, love letters written in elaborate, poetic prose.
My queen, my nightmare, my endless darkâ¦
At first, it was an annoyance. But then, something curious happened.
One night, a would-be assassin managed to get a knife to your throat. You were moments from turning the tables when Nocturne appeared from the shadows, eyes wild with fury.
She tore the assassin apart, piece by piece, humming a soft melody as she worked. Then, she turned to you, her face and hands slick with blood.
"I wonât let anyone touch whatâs mine," she whispered, voice trembling with devotion.
Yours?
Ah. You finally understood.
She was completely, utterly obsessed with you.
It should have been laughable, a lesser villain falling to madness in your wake. But when she stepped closer, tilting her head like a lovesick dog waiting for praise, you did something unexpected.
You cupped her chin, lifting her face to yours.
"And if I told you to burn this city to the ground?" you murmured.
Her breath hitched. "I already have, in my dreams."
A slow, wicked smile stretched across your lips.
"Good girl."
She trembled, eyes rolling back slightly as if those two words had undone her entirely.
Interesting.
Perhaps, instead of an annoyance, she could be⦠useful.
---
From that night on, you let her stay by your side.
Her obsession deepened, manifesting in the way she watched youâalways waiting, always wanting. When you killed, she sighed in admiration. When you spoke, she hung on every word as if it were scripture.
She carved your name into her skin once, just above her heart.
"You are everything," she whispered, tracing the letters with reverence. "My god, my love, my nightmare. Say you'll never leave me."
You smirked, dragging a sharp nail down her cheek, relishing the way she gasped at the pain.
"As long as you continue to entertain me," you said.
It was a lie, of course. You never stayed in one place for long. People broke too easily. Their minds, their willsâeventually, they all snapped.
But Nocturne?
She only seemed to spiral deeper.
And, for the first time in a long time, you found yourself intrigued.
Perhaps you would let this one stay.
For now.
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The city had long since fallen to ruin beneath your reign. Smoke curled into the night like ghosts of the past, and the streets were painted in crimson. The scent of death clung to the air, thick and intoxicating.
Nocturne stood beside you, her violet eyes half-lidded in bliss. She had been watching you againâwatching as you carved your way through those who dared stand in your way, as you orchestrated destruction like an artist creating a masterpiece.
She had killed for you. Again.
Her latest gift lay sprawled at your feet, his mouth still open in a frozen scream. A former general who had been foolish enough to believe he could stand against you. Now, his insides decorated the pavement like some grotesque offering.
You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you turned to her. "I didnât ask you to do this."
Nocturne trembled, a shudder rolling through her spine as if your voice alone was enough to unravel her. "I know," she breathed, stepping closer, her gloved hands twitching. "But I knew he would bore you. I couldn't allow him to waste your time."
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. She truly was devotedâan attack dog ready to maul anyone you deemed unworthy, but also willing to act of her own accord when it came to your desires.
Useful.
Still, there was something⦠odd. A shift in her desperation.
She was losing herself to this obsession.
You had seen it happen before, but never quite like this. Never so violently, so pathetically worshipful. Her every thought, every breath, revolved around you.
And you?
You were beginning to enjoy it.
---
She followed you like a shadow, quiet but ever-present. When you walked through the ruined city, she was always just a step behind. When you spoke, she clung to every syllable as if your words were holy.
She had taken to sleeping at your feet like a devoted pet. You never ordered her to do so, but you allowed it. Some nights, you even toyed with herârunning your fingers through her dark hair just to watch her tremble.
You could feel her restraint fraying.
One night, as you stood at the top of a crumbling skyscraper, gazing down at the ruins of your work, she approached.
"May I touch you?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
You arched a brow, glancing at her. "You already do."
"Not like that."
Ah.
She was tremblingâwhether from fear or anticipation, you couldnât tell. Perhaps both. Her hands twitched at her sides, as if she were barely restraining herself from reaching for you.
You could have denied her.
You should have.
But instead, you smirked and tilted your chin up slightly. "Go on, then."
A sharp inhale. Then, the slow, reverent way she raised her hand. Her fingertips brushed against your cheek, hesitant at first, then firmer, as if trying to convince herself that you were real.
The touch was featherlight, but you could feel the heat of it, the raw desperation behind it.
"You donât even try to fight me," you murmured, amused. "Aren't villains supposed to be selfish?"
Her breath hitched. "I am. Keeping you is the most selfish thing Iâve ever done."
You let out a low hum, considering her words. Keeping you? How bold. As if she could contain you.
And yetâ¦
You reached up, taking her wrist in your grip. She gasped, her pupils blown wide, lips parted slightly as she looked at you. A deer before a predator. A worshiper before a god.
"You belong to me," you reminded her, your nails digging into her skin just enough to draw a shudder.
"Yes," she whispered, as if she had been waiting for those words. "Completely. Always."
Fascinating.
You released her wrist and turned back to the city below. "Then be a good girl and donât disappoint me."
She nearly moaned at the praise.
You heard her breath quicken, her heartbeat hammering as she took a step closer, standing just behind you. The weight of her obsession pressed against you, thick and suffocating.
And yet, you found you didnât mind.
Not yet.
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The city was long dead.
What little resistance remained had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. You had orchestrated it all, watching with cold amusement as civilization crumbled beneath your touch. No heroes left to oppose you, no foolish rebellion to entertain you.
And yet, there was still Nocturne.
She had never wavered, never strayed. Even now, she stood beside you, as devoted as ever.
But something was different.
She had grown bolder, no longer content with merely watching you from the shadows or whispering words of devotion under her breath.
She wanted more.
And you knew it.
---
The first time she tried to cage you, it was almost amusing.
She thought she was subtle. The way she arranged your surroundings, ensuring you never had a reason to leave. The way she eliminated threats before you even had a chance to raise a hand.
She even began whispering in your ear, her voice like silk, planting the idea that perhaps you should rest. That perhaps you should let her take care of things for you.
You humored her at first, watching the way she lit up whenever you indulged her whims.
But then, one night, you woke to find her kneeling beside your bed, watching you.
Her violet eyes gleamed in the darkness, and there was something unhinged in themâsomething fraying at the edges.
"You won't leave, will you?" she whispered.
You tilted your head, amused. "And if I do?"
Her breath hitched, and her fingers curled into fists. "Then Iâll have to make sure you donât."
Ah.
Finally, she had snapped.
You sat up slowly, watching the way she trembled, her body tense as if bracing for rejection.
A lesser person might have been frightened. Might have thought to put her down like a rabid dog.
But you?
You smiled.
"Nocturne," you murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along her jaw. She shuddered violently at the touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "You think you can keep me?"
She swallowed hard, but she didnât look away.
"I can try."
Brave.
Foolish.
Delightful.
You leaned in, close enough that your lips nearly brushed against her ear. "Then do it."
Her entire body trembled, her breath catching as she sucked in a desperate, shuddering gasp.
"I will," she swore, her voice thick with something between devotion and madness.
You leaned back, watching as she clenched her fists, struggling to hold herself together.
She wanted to break you.
But she was the one breaking.
You cupped her chin, tilting her face up until her fevered gaze met yours. "I wonder," you murmured, your smirk widening, "who will truly be the one in chains?"
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Because she already knew the answer.
And yet, she would still try.
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Nocturne tried.
She tried to keep you, to ensnare you in the silken web of her devotion. She whispered sweet promises, built a throne of blood at your feet, and slaughtered anyone who dared breathe in your direction.
She thought love was a chain.
But she had forgottenâmonsters like you could never be tamed.
---
The breaking point came when she locked you away.
It was almost adorable, the way she went about it. A fortress built in the heart of the ruined city, walls high, defenses impenetrable.
She came to you dressed in black, her violet eyes gleaming with desperate joy.
"Youâre safe here," she murmured, kneeling before you as if in prayer. "No one can take you from me now."
You sat on the grand chair she had placed for youâa mockery of a throne. Chains, useless but symbolic, lay at your feet.
She had thought this through. Had ensured no one remained who could help you. Had made herself the only thing in your world.
A perfect prison.
A perfect delusion.
You studied her for a long moment, letting silence stretch between you.
Then, you laughed.
It was a slow, wicked thingâlow and sharp, curling through the air like a blade. Nocturneâs breath hitched, her body shuddering as if your amusement was something holy.
She didnât understand.
You rose to your feet. She didnât stop you. Couldnât. Even now, even after all her efforts, she was powerless before you.
"You poor, foolish thing," you whispered, stepping closer.
She gasped as you cupped her face, your grip just shy of cruel. Her body swayed forward instinctively, like a moth drawn to a flame.
"You thought you could keep me?" You tilted your head, watching as her pupils dilated. "That you could trap a hurricane in a glass jar?"
Nocturne trembled, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.
She wanted to argue.
She wanted to beg.
But deep down, she knew.
This was always how it would end.
You leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. "You were never my captor, little shadow," you whispered, voice dripping with amusement. "You were my most loyal pet."
A sharp inhale. A shuddering gasp.
Then, silence.
Her body tensed, fingers curling into fists. You could feel her breaking apart, piece by piece.
She had tried to cage you.
And in doing so, had only caged herself.
You stepped back, watching as realization dawned in her eyes.
You could leave. Anytime you wanted.
She, however, could not.
She would always be here.
Waiting.
Worshiping.
Breaking.
You turned, walking toward the grand doors of your supposed prison. She didnât stop you.
She never could.
As you stepped into the cold night air, the wind howling around you, you heard her whisper one final, broken vow.
"I will follow you⦠forever."
And you smiled.
Let her chase.
She would never catch you.
But she would try.
And that was enough.
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