#whumpee villain

[womanofwords]

Daddy’s Baby Boy (Hero’s POV)

Villain’s POV

CW: platonic yandere caretaker hero, whumpee villain, whumper supervillain, abduction, broken bones, infantilisation, Stockholm syndrome, drugging.

My life changed forever the day I went to break up Supervillain’s headquarters. It was gruelling and terrifying, but nothing I hadn’t handled before. But that was when I found the worst thing I had ever seen in my life.

A frail, broken body laid in a pool of blood on the floor. I was about to call the police about a murder victim when I saw movement, a hand groping the floor for something to hold on to.

They were alive.

“Who is this?” they whimpered. The voice sounded male. I scooped him up and took a long look at his face.

It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

Those big eyes, those pouty lips, how waifish they looked. They were probably starved for some time before being beaten. That poor baby had been abused for months on end, possibly even years.

And that would never happen to him again.

First, I’d have to kill Supervillain or, better yet, get her killed. She was undoubtedly the one behind this, and if she wasn’t the one directly doing it, then she would be the one directing others to get their hands dirty.  That wasn’t hard: Supervillain may have always been ready for a fight, but she was never bullet proof.

Then, I would report finding Villain to the authorities so he could go to the hospital. Nobody seemed to care that they were hurt so badly, which was so callous. How could anyone look at such an angelic face and not care about what happened to them?

A few days after the terrible incident, Villain was still in my head. He was such a sweet boy, who probably wasn’t even a bad person. Supervillain had probably forced them to do it.

Taking them home was difficult. I had to pull in a lot of favours for this to work. Bribing the nurses on shift so they wouldn’t say anything, someone to take Villain’s place in the hospital so it would look like he had made a miraculous recovery, yet another person to make a portal directly to my new safe house to make the whole operation easier. I had to pay a lot of hush money to these people so they’d keep their mouths shut, but my baby boy was worth every penny.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Taking care of Villain was nothing short of a labour of love. It broke my heart every single time Villain rejected my love, but I kept my faith. Villain would learn to love me once he knew how much I cared for him. I would wake him up with breakfast in bed (a meal replacement shake because he couldn’t chew) first thing in the morning. Villain struggled with the bottles at first, but he learned to tolerate them eventually.

Then his old bandages would be removed so he could be bathed. I would be scared of hurting him as his wounds were stitched up, but painful, and his whimpers and yelps of pain made me want to bawl. While he was in the bath, I would brush his hair, which was full of mats and tangles. Some of it had to be cut, but what I could brush out made him whimper and groan. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on brushes so this wouldn’t hurt him or damage his hair. It was so fluffy and I would hate to ruin it with split ends.

After the bath, he would get new bandages for his wounds and oils massaged into his skin. This seemed to be the only part of our day that Villain actually liked, as he practically purred while face down on his bed. Physical therapy would happen after he had clothes, stretching and bending the ways he had to so he could become stronger.

Our day ended with Villain wearing the most adorable footed pyjamas and sitting in my lap to drink soup from a thermos. I would take him downstairs to watch a Disney movie and then I would bring him back to his bed to snuggle him.

Slowly, very slowly, my efforts paid off. Villain’s cold demeanour would start slipping away, his defenses coming down. I would smile and tell him that I was so proud of him for being so brave and calling me Daddy. He would blush with shame, but that would lessen with time. Eventually, he would say the word Daddy with no shame at all and the sweetest lilt in his voice. The best time was when I came home from going somewhere and I would hear his excited squeals from upstairs. Every time I got home, there would be endless snuggles and one of the stuffed animals I got for him was presented to me. My baby boy became the sweetest angel once he was out of his shell.

Once it was safe for him to come off bed rest, we got started on walking. There were good days and bad days, but Villain would always be so tired after practicing walking. This would lead to me carrying him from place to place, something that I cherished as much as possible. Villain would snuggle into my shoulder and want to stay there forever, only agreeing if we cuddled all night. But once he became confident with walking, he would trot at my side like the adorable puppy he was. We’d even go on walks together to a nice park, where it was expansive, pretty, and most importantly, secluded.

The first time I used muscle relaxants on Villain, it was during a moment of weakness. That day, I was feeling particularly clingy and missed the days when he needed me . . . needed me more. One dose of muscle relaxants and he would be incapacitated for at least half the day. “Did mean, awful Supervillain do this to you, too?” I asked, covering my tracks. Villain sobbed into my arms.

“I’m sorry, Daddy! I did something bad!” Villain wailed, the first time it had happened. “I disappointed you! I’m sorry!” Even after giving him a few stuffed animals for comfort, telling him over and over that it wasn’t his fault, and giving him another smoothie, he would only be contented with kisses and snuggles. I did feel guilty, but Villain was so obedient and eager to please for a week afterwards, and I was hooked.

After that, it would happen a few times a year, roughly every two months. I will admit, I hated how much he would cry when he woke up from a nap to see how his legs wouldn’t hold him up, but he would be so affectionate and snuggly, and then so happy when he was better.

I’d heard of people who kept other people in their house, mainly in true crime documentaries. These people would torture their captives in all sorts of ways, cut them off from the world, restrain them with all sorts of tools. But I’d never needed to do such things. There was no reason for me to do such a thing to my precious Villain, though. No more hurt and pain for my baby boy. He’d gone through more than enough.

Besides, I have Villain exactly where I need him. He’s well-loved and well-trained. And when someone has everything they need where they are, you can leave them alone with every exit available, and it won’t make a difference.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

June of Doom day 14

“What were you thinking?” (slurred speech, impalement, fight)

Henchman didn’t bother running as they approached the fallen hero. Their gait was measured as they glided past the rubble of their pursuit, residual power still sparking at their fingertips. They did not often exert their powers as such, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They looked down at Hero. “What, exactly, were you thinking when you decided to toy with my master’s heart?” 

Hero laid prone in the rubble of their battle. Their wounds bled slowly, dirt and blood staining their usually pristine uniform. From the angle their leg set, Henchman knew Hero would be unable to stand even if they’d tried. Hero stared up at them, eyes wide in a mix of shock, anger, and wounded pride. “Well shit. You’re the one who broke them out?” They gave a startled laugh, which was interrupted by a choked, painful series of coughs. Faintly, Henchman could see flecks of blood appear on Hero’s lips. The sight gave them a twinge of joy, but they refused to smile.

“Did you believe that Villain would be so easily defeated? Did you believe that, in their grief over your false love, that they’d throw themselves at your feet in repentance?” For all their power, their master had a sensitive heart. They did not trust easily, but they trusted deeply, and Hero had taken advantage of that. They’d spent months carefully weaving an almost friendly nemesis relationship between themselves and Villain, exchanging flirtations with Villain just as often as they did blows. It was no wonder then, when Hero pretended to wish to start a relationship that breached the divide of their opposing sides, that Villain had believed them. Henchman themself had believed it for a time.

It had hurt to see that faith shattered. It had infuriated Henchmen to hear that Villain had been captured, their hideout ambushed by Hero and their associates. It had infuriated Henchman when he came to free Villain, only to find them crying in their cell, still wearing the outfit they’d prepared especially for Hero’s arrival. 

Henchman was simply thankful that Hero had been foolish enough to reveal their true colors. Still, Hero’s deceit would not go unpunished. 

When they finally reached Hero, Henchman crouched low until they were at eye level. “You were incorrect. You must understand that the only reason I’ve not killed you is because my master has not commanded it. But, be assured that I very, very much wish to,”

“So what is this then?” Hero’s voice was rough and strained, and yet they smiled with bloodied teeth. “Were they too much of a coward to do their own dirty work? Were they embarrassed that they’d actually loved me, when I couldn’t give less of a shit?”

It was an effort to keep their voice calm. “No, I come here of my own volition to give a warning,” In a flash of movement, Henchman unsheathed the blade from their waist. They did not need the weapon, the destruction around them proved as much. But as they pulled Hero’s hair, exposing their neck to the point of their blade, Henchmen couldn’t help but appreciate the simplicity of a knife. “I am bound to protect my master, even before I am bound to obey them. You are spared now because I do not believe Villain will be vulnerable to your lies any longer, and seeing you dead may displease them.”

Henchman leaned in closer, their lips nearly touching Hero’s. They felt Hero shiver. “But if you dare to show your face to Villain again, I will have no choice but to rid my master of your presence. You would be forcing me to do something that may displease them,” Henchman pressed the knife closer, drawing blood. “And I assure you, I would not make your death pleasant if it came to that. You understand, yes?”

They could feel Hero’s heart fluttering, see the tension in their jawline. When they spoke, an edge of fear had entered into their furious tone. “I get it, asshole.”

Henchman stood, allowing themselves a secretive smile. “Good, we have an understanding.”

[em-writes-stuff]

whumpcember day 19

@whumpcember

prompt: electricity

characters: villain, hero

warnings: being followed, being tased, kidnapping

244 words

a/n: i have no clue how a taser works so just go with it

---

Hero pushed himself up against the wall, trying his best to hide from Villain’s view. He slowed his breathing, attempting to keep his chest still as possible, but all he achieved was a chest ache and the need to yawn.

Villain continued down the sidewalk, she ignored the unsettling feeling of being watched-she always felt watched-and shook her head. 

“You’re imagining things again.” she muttered to herself. 

A streetlamp shone down on a quarter and Villain smiled to herself. She bent down and took the coin in her hand, inspecting it for faults before tucking it away in her pocket. 

Someone cuffed their hand over her mouth and pressed something to her side. “Make any noise and I use this on you.” 

She nodded and whimpered under their hand. “If I move my hand are you going to scream?” 

She shook her head quickly and the hand moved. She gasped and tried to pull away from the stranger, but they held onto her tightly. 

“Not so fast, Villain. I have a few questions for you.” Hero whispered. 

Shivers ran down Villain’s spine. She shook her head, “I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

Hero chuckled and nodded to himself, “I was kinda hoping you’d say that.” 

Something stung her side and her entire body seized up. Hero threw her over his shoulder and threw her in the backseat of his car. 

He tied her wrists and ankles together before starting the car and driving away. 

[whump-in-the-closet]

whumpee characterizations ? and what it takes to break them

thief whumpee: silver-tongued/ can't keep still/ uses humor as a coping mechanism-> gagged/ stress positions/ a casual whumper whose indifference immobilizes whumpee

royal whumpee: stoic/ proud/ seeks revenge after their imprisonment-> forced to kneel/ public humiliation, dragged around like a trophy, collared, branded etc/ enough scars to look like a constellation on their skin

healer whumpee: kind/ keeps up an image for the sake of others/ skilled in their trade-> pushed to the edge/ others have to take care of them/ hands or fingers so badly damaged they'll never be able to help anyone else again

innocent whumpee: naive/ trusting/ hopeful-> "no one is coming for you"/ left to die/ a whumper who twists whumpee's anger against their friends

bitter whumpee: apathetic/ shrugs off what they've been through/ exhausted-> "I'm fine." followed by collapsing/ vivid flashbacks where they wake up screaming/ refuses to fall asleep after their ordeal

leader whumpee: independent to the point of isolation/ tries to protect everyone/ mentally well-adjusted (mostly)-> set up to fail/ forced to hurt their teammates/ they come back changed, and everyone avoids them

villain whumpee: defiant/ insults whumper every chance they get/ so many failed escape attempts-> non-con drugging, left a shadow of their past selves/ conditioned to obey/ kneeling next to whumper at a press conferences

[epiclamer]

METAL IN WHUMP >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The metal cuffs clamped around whumpee’s wrists—

The iron bit in whumpee’s mouth—

The steel bars of a cage keeping whumpee encaged, forced to get used to their new home—

The sound of a metal collar locking in place around whumpee’s neck—

The scream whumpee makes when a metal bat hits their ribcage at full swing—

The loose chains dragging behind whumpee as they walk—

The metal tracking chip that leaves a nasty scar on whumpee’s skin—

The cold iron tip of a whip ripping whumpee’s skin—

The gentle caress of the tip of a knife before it’s pushed into whumpee’s chest or held against their throat—

The horrible feeling of a barrel of a gun being held against the back of whumpee’s head, freezing them in place—

The agonizing heat of a branding iron marking whumpee once again—

The metal coils that spring from a taser with blinding white electricity pumping through them before they hit whumpee’s skin—

BUT ALSO, METAL IN CARETAKING >>>>>>>>>>>

The way whumpee panics when the needle for the IV comes into view—

The groans of pain whumpee lets out as someone else stitches up their wounds—

The clicking and clanking of surgical tools being lifted up and then put back down against a tray—

The feeling of a metal exam table against whumpee’s back—

The pain of the staples used for a quick stitch in the field—

The refreshing first sip of water after rescue from a metal bottle—

The keys to whumpee’s cuffs jingling as they’re finally unlocked—

JUST METAL IN WHUMP >>>>>>>>>

[whumper-cars]

One I LOVE but never see: Living Battery

Superhero Whumpee being used to power something for the Villain

Nonhuman Whumpee has magical blood that can be used to power machines and having their blood drained

Whumper having multiple magic Whumpees so that once one is fully drained or too tired to produce magic they just move on to the next one

Cyborg/Robot Whumper that leeches off of other cyborgs/robots to gain energy

Alien Whumpee being used to power a spaceship

A tiny Whumpee with electricity powers being put in the battery slot of an electronic appliance so they're a literal battery (this may be inaccurate but idc)

Just thinkin about living batteries

Feel free to add onto any of my prompts!

[bamber344]

ok so superhero whump scenario:

Villain is Hero's favourite 'bad guy' to fight. Villain never really hurts anyone with their actions, and anything they steal is usually anonymously returned within a few days. The worst crime they've really committed is property damage. Hero is convinced they're just doing it for fun, as evidenced by Villain's very melodramatic and performatively cheesy attitude during their confrontations

Eventually, Villain disappears. Hero assumes they just decided to put down their cape and mask, though is a little saddened that they now don't have any real 'comic relief' in their day-to-day villain fighting.

A few months later, Hero is in Superhero's HQ when they come across a locked door they hadn't noticed before. Overcome with curiosity, they figure out how to get it open and take a peek inside.

Even without their iconic costume or mask, Hero would recognise Villain anywhere. Villain looks awful. Emaciated, bruised, scarred, curled up in a shivering ball in the corner of what Hero now recognises as a cell. How long has Superhero kept them here? And why? Hero doesn't know, all they do know is that this is wrong, and that their old rival needs their help, Superhero be damned.

[hurt-and-comfort-me-please]

Ex-Villain angst

Exactly what it says on the tin.

Ex-Villain from a crime family that has to watch and participate as their family is taken away by the heroes

Ex-Villain who spent their villain years chasing the approval of their mentor/villainous idol/villainous loved one, only to find themselves 'redeemed', now chasing the approval of the heroes

Ex-Villain changing their behavior, but never getting better. In fact, they're not sure they've ever felt worse

Ex-Villain only ever being seen as that, an Ex-Villain

Guilt tripping, so much guilt tripping. They don't even argue anymore, they just give in.

Nobody wants a villain, Ex-Villain is rejected almost everywhere, which can make it easier for hero organizations to keep them under control because they have nowhere else to go.

Ex-Villain losing sleep over their past, unable to think of anything other than what they've done wrong

Ex-Villains dyeing or cutting their hair and changing their appearance until they're unrecognizable, because maybe then they can at least pretend they're a different person now

Ex-Villain who still suffers with violent impulses, unable to ever get help for them because admitting they have them would make everyone distrust them

Ex-Villain who learns the hard way that that 'power of friendship' thing only applies to people the heroes like

Ex-Villain who's trying, they really are, but find it increasingly difficult to believe it'll ever actually make a difference

[shywhumpauthor]

You Can’t do This

Cw: kidnapping, restraints, torture, mentioned mouth/eye whump (doesn’t actually happen), non-con touching, knives, threat of asphyxiation/choking

“Wait- wait,” Villain sputtered, the words tripping over their tongue, snagging in the back of their throat. “You can’t- Hero, this is illegal- you can’t do this!”

They twisted their wrists against the restraints that bound them to the chair, flexing their fingers to try to relieve a fraction of the pressure. The movement only pushed the cables deeper into their skin, dragging a hiss from their clenched teeth.

A warm hand wrapped around their neck from behind, turning their exhale into a wheeze as their head was shoved against the back of the chair.

“Since when have you cared much about what’s legal?” Hero responded, amusement adding a drawl to their words. They circled the chair, grip on Villain’s neck adjusting so their palm lay against the villain’s wind pipe, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on the side of their neck. Just enough pressure to fear, for Villain to feel the threat of their airway being crushed, but not enough to cut off their breathing. Not yet.

“He-Hero, this isn’t funny, stop.” Villain grit out, shrinking as far back as the chair would allow. Hero only pressed closer, moving in so their legs were on either side of Villain’s, their ankles bound to the chair legs.

“Was it funny when the roles were reversed? All those nights I spent tied up in your basement, bleeding and cold? Was it funny then?” Hero hissed, their other hand raising to Villain’s face with the speed of a strike. Barely in time, Villain braced themself, only for a warm hand to press against their jaw, fingers brushing over the curve of their cheekbone. The touch was stark against the chill in the air, a misplaced comfort—artificial. Hero’s stroked their thumb below Villain’s eye gently, before coming to a pause with both hands cradling either side of Villain’s face. “Was it?”

“No, no Hero, it wasn’t,” Villain’s voice wavered now, threatening to crack. “You can’t do this, you’re s’posed to be the good guy-”

Hero stepped back suddenly, tearing their hands away from Villain’s face like their skin had turned toxic. Villain tried to ignore the ache that swelled in their chest as the cold air drowned any remnants of the warm touch in moments.

“I guess I am, aren’t I? The ‘good guy’?” Hero repeated, turning their back to Villain. They stepped to the side of the poorly lit room, to something that resembled an old workbench, their body blocking Villain from seeing what they were doing. “I wonder what the press will say about your sudden absence. They’ll publish anything I tell them to, you know? I could feed them some story about you fleeing the city, the country even, and your name would be forgotten in a week.”

Hero turned around, bracing their palms against the workbench and leaning back.

“Everyone always believes the good guy, don’t they?” Hero shook their head. “No one cares about another pesky street criminal, do they? All they care about is Supervillain, the papers would move on from you the next day and you’d be forgotten. You wouldn’t even get one of those ten year follow-ups.”

“Hero, let me go. You can’t do this. You can’t,” Villain twisted their arms against their restraints in one last pitiful attempt to free themself, accomplishing nothing but to make Hero chuckle.

Hero pushed themself forwards, striding closer. It was only then Villain noticed something in their hand, slender and orange—a box cutter, they realized quickly, as the hero closed the distance between them in three steps.

“Tell me exactly what I can and can’t do, Villain? What can’t I do to you?” Their hand twisted in Villain’s hair, shoving their head back against the chair while the other flipped out the blade on the box cutter.

The words died in Villain’s throat. Their lips parted, eyes tracking the blade as Hero lifted it up to their face.

“I can do anything I want to you.” Hero’s eyes stared directly into Villain’s as they placed the blade against their skin, just below their eye. “You should be glad, your eyes look so pretty when you’re scared. Otherwise I would’ve plucked them out by now,” Hero began to move the blade to the side, putting just enough pressure to split a thin line of red below Villain’s eye.

Villain didn’t dare breathe as Hero paused, gritting their teeth against the sting as they felt the blade puncture a bit deeper. A drop of blood rolled down their cheek like a tear.

“I thought about this moment every night in your basement,” Hero muttered, pushing the edge harder into Villain’s flesh as they followed the track of the blood, drawing a half suppressed yelp from Villain as the pain suddenly intensified. “Planning out exactly what I would do to you, how I’d pay you back for everything you’ve done to me.”

Hero accented the last word with a sudden sharp twist, finishing the line to Villain’s jaw before pulling their hand back. Tears burning in the corners of Villain’s eyes, welling faster than Villain could suppress them.

“Ple- please, Hero, you can’t,” Villain’s voice trembled, any thoughts of maintaining their dignity gone with their fear.

Hero’s palm cracked against their bleeding cheek, catching them off guard. Pain like fire burned from the cut, their head snapping to the side with the force of the blow.

“This will be your only warning,” Hero began, their empty hand grabbing Villain by the chin and tugging them back to look at them. “I do not have the same reservations about your voice as I do your eyes. Another word from you, I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat and it’ll be the only food you get for a month, got it?”

[oliversrarebooks]

listen to my Voice, hero

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, intimate whumper, restraints, corruption

Are your bonds comfortable, Hero? I wouldn't want to cause any damage to your precious muscles and nerves. You are the city's shining hope, after all. Or at least, you have been until now.

Good, now we can have a proper chat. You can just listen carefully to everything I have to say. 

Oh, don't glare at me like that. How many times have we clashed now? And every time you manage to resist my lovely compelling Voice just enough to stop my plans, just enough so that I must escape by the skin of my teeth. You must have known it might come to this eventually, a time when my compulsions are too strong for you to fight, a time when my Voice finally brings you to your knees.

I've been training, dear hero, training especially for you. Training for you, because you're really the only one in this city worth controlling. You're better than all of them. We both know that. And I know how you feel about me, because I've seen the look in your eyes when my compulsions take hold of your pretty little mind.

No, no, be quiet. Be quiet.That's it, there you are. Oh, the delicious expression on your face when I use my Voice on you. I'll never get enough of it.

Most heroes look terrified, you know, to have their thoughts pulled out from under them, to find their body out of their control. Terrified, angry, defiant -- that's how the other heroes look. But you're different. In that moment when I weave my spell on you, when you feel your mind go hazy and your body stop obeying your commands, I see something else in your eyes. I see relief. Deep, unmistakable relief.

No, don't try to deny it. I've tangled with you too many times to be wrong about this. You're relieved when I compel you. You'd never admit it, not even to yourself, but you long for the way it feels. You long to have your choices taken away. You long to not have to make decisions. You long to not have to fight any more.

But every time, you fight. Every time, you break free of my Voice. And I can see the toll it takes on you. That's why I've been training so hard, Hero. So that you couldn't resist my Voice, wouldn't be able to break free. So that I could give you what you want more than anything. 

I've seen you, Hero. I've seen you at your best and at your lowest, haven't I? I understand you better than anyone else in the city. You know it's true. And I can see how exhausted you are. How you've been worked to the bone. How you never get to rest, never get a vacation. I even tried cutting back on my evil schemes in the hopes that you'd take a break, but all you did was pursue other villains twice as hard. 

There are deep bags under your eyes, Hero, marring your beautiful face. There's resignation in your tone that was never there before. I can't stand it, can't stand the way the city treats you. You're destroying yourself to save this ungrateful, useless population and all they do is criticize you. It makes me sick.

And I know what you do once you've defeated me and I escape back to my lair. I know you return to your cold, empty apartment, and curl up on the couch with some convenience food, trying to relax. I know how you toss and turn at night, wondering if you're doing the right thing. I know how lonely you are, Hero. I'm lonely too, you know.

I wish you could see how glassy and dazed your eyes are right now. It's beautiful. Listening to my Voice is so nice, isn't it? Yes, that's it, just relax.

Oh, your hair is so soft. I bet you haven't had a tender touch like this in a while. I saw you lean into it before you caught yourself. Let me run my hand through your hair, there's a good, relaxed hero. Is that a sleepy little smile I see? You like that, don't you?

In fact, you like all of this, don't you? You like having no choice but to relax and listen as my compelling Voice weaves a spell around you. You like the feeling as I slowly hypnotize your vulnerable mind, how your resistance slips away little by little. You've thought about this on those lonely nights, haven't you? What it would feel like if I won. What it would feel like to succumb to my hypnotic compulsions. What it would feel like if you stopped fighting and let me take charge of your mind completely.

Oh, don't struggle. Don't struggle. Relax.There it is again, that relief. My Voice feels good, doesn't it? It feels so good to have the fight taken out of you. Don't deny it, it's written all over your face.

You don't need to pretend you haven't thought about it. You somehow manage to always be the first hero on the scene whenever I try anything. Almost as if you're willing to drop anything to see me, isn't it?

But you were scared. I'm a villain, after all. I don't deny it. You must think I might hurt or humiliate you. Well, you can put all of your fears to rest, because I have no intention of that. I respect you far too much. I'm going to take good care of you, Hero. I'm going to give you the treatment you deserve. I'm going to help you relax. I'm going to take all your worries away.  It's going to feel amazing, Hero, I promise.

I'm sorry, were you trying to say something just now? Still trying to fight it? You'll have to speak up, it's too hard to hear you when you're so out of it.

"It's wrong"? Is that what you said, Hero?

No, what's wrong is how little reward you get for everything you do. That's why I had to do this, had to train my Voice to be strong enough to be irresistible even to you. Now I can reward you. I can give you everything you want, everything you need, beginning with the beautiful, relaxing oblivion of total and complete obedience.

You'll get other rewards, too, of course you will. Together we'll share in the riches of the city, bend everyone in power to our wills. It's what we both deserve. But this is your first and most important reward -- obedience. Nothing is more calm, relaxing, and peaceful than knowing you have no choice, than having every decision made for you.

And all you have to do is listen. 

I'm too strong for you now, Hero, my Voice too compelling. You're almost entirely under my spell, aren't you? I can see how drowsy you are, how my compulsions are putting your conscious mind to sleep.

Yes, that's it. You're too exhausted, Hero. Too tired. Too many nights with too little sleep. You need to rest. You need to stop fighting. You need to surrender.

No one will think any less of you. They'll see how powerful I've become, how easily I can command even the strongest and smartest. They'll realize you had no choice, that it was out of your hands. You won't need to feel guilt or shame. Everyone will know this wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could do to prevent yourself falling under my villainous control. 

And the fact that you actually enjoy this, the fact that you long to give in so badly and fall under my hypnotic trance? That can be our little secret, Hero.

There we go. That's it, just a little more. Look into my eyes. Look nice and deep into my eyes while I stroke your hair and talk you down softly. Just like you've always dreamed of. No more fear, no more pain. Only sweet restful sleep and deep hypnotic trance. 

That's it, Hero. It's too late. You're too tired, too drowsy, too captured in my Voice to fight it. There's nothing to do. Nothing you have to do. Just feel yourself growing oh so dazed and sleepy as I weave my Voice around you. So comforting. So right. Exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed. Exactly where you belong. 

Tell me, Hero, tell me you want this.

That's it, that's it! Oh, how I've longed to hear those words from you. Tell me how my Voice makes you feel. Be honest.

Oh. Oh, my. That's... that's even better than I expected. Far, far better. You love my Voice that much? Oh, Hero, dear Hero, why didn't you say so before? You could have had this any time. I would have been more than happy to bring you to my lair and give you the hypnosis you deserve. You could have been listening to my Voice all day.

Well, it doesn't matter now, because now you can have my Voice all you want, stronger than it's ever been. Isn't that nice? Oh, look at you bob your drowsy head. I don't even need to compel agreement out of you. You're so deeply hypnotized, aren't you? Good, good. Good hero. 

My hero.

Now, why don't you go all the way under? Just keep listening and let your eyelids grow oh so heavy. Let those heavy eyes close. Don't open them again. That's a good hero. So obedient and docile. You're so, so beautiful to me, my drowsy, docile hero. 

Yes, docile. That's what you are, deep down inside. All your strength, all your determination to do the right thing, all of that is a mask that conceals who you really are. A docile and obedient little lamb. And no one needs to know that but me. I'll fulfill your deep craving to be hypnotized and controlled, and you can still be every bit as strong and determined when you're working under my orders. Doesn't that sound just perfect for you? 

All the way under, now, deep into hypnotic trance. Let your resistance fade, my hero. Let your mind fog. Let your mental defenses fall.

Surrender. Surrender and submit. Submit to me, just like you've always wanted.

You can finally feel that relief. You can finally take that rest. Because I have you now. You're mine. I'm in complete control now, my docile little hero. 

And I order you to feel nothing but bliss.

Masterlist

If you like this, you may like "the defiant princess" for more gentle, slow induction on a resisting subject.

[silly-scroimblo-whump]

augusnippets day 21: delirium/vertigo/hallucinations THINKGINGH… cw: living weapon whumpee, delirium and hallucinating, implied conditioning and abuse —————————

Weapon frantically reaches out to the very person they’re supposed to maim, eyes hazy with tears and glazed from fever. Villain stops mid-attack, staring down at the trembling figure as they crumple to the floor. Weapon can hear the echoes of Hero’s commanding yells, but they can’t move, can’t—- they’re so useless, they can’t do the one thing they were trained to be capable of. Villain curiously nudges them with their foot like a kid playing with roadkill, their grin faltering as Weapon still continues to try and reach out. “Hero? Hh— I can be good, Hero, please,” Weapon stammers, clinging to Villain’s leg. “Don’t need more training, I’m really—” Their voice breaks off into loud sobs, burying their face into the ground. They can still hear the screams from past training, the commands in their ears. They feel Hero’s disapproving gaze, letting out another choking sob as they brace for the impact. It never comes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” That’s not Hero’s voice. That’s… Villain lifts Weapon, carefully placing the shuddering being over their shoulder. Weapon is… far frailer than Villain imagined. The supposed unstoppable force of destruction winces slightly with every touch. “Let’s go, okay? I’ll get you all fixed up, and you can get some rest.”

Weapon nods wearily, stunned into silence by gentle words rather than piercing shrieks.

[womanofwords]

Daddy’s Baby Boy (Villain’s POV)

Hero’s POV

CW: platonic yandere caretaker hero, whumpee villain, whumper supervillain, abduction, broken bones, infantilisation, Stockholm syndrome.

I woke up in searing pain. Everything hurt. My vision slowly came into focus, not that it helped clear anything up. I had never been here before. Wherever this was, this wasn’t my apartment.

It was far too nice.

The first thing I noticed was how . . . soft the room felt and was. For starters, I was on a hopelessly soft bed, surrounded by plush animals that I definitely didn’t own. The colours were warm and pale, baby blue walls with a white wardrobe and soft pink bedsheets. It was more like a nursery than a dungeon.

“Oh, Villain! I hope you’re awake, sweetie,” Hero cooed, bounding into the room like his name was Mary Poppins. I stared at him as he scooped me up in his arms and . . . smothered me in kisses? What was going on? “My darling precious, did you have a good sleep?”

I tried to speak, ask him what was going on, but Hero got a bottle and shoved it into my mouth. “Liquid diet for you, love. You got very hurt by Supervillain. Your jaw was punched really hard. How could you have ever gone into such a dangerous career?”

Then I started remembering bits of what I had been doing before Hero grabbed me. Supervillain was angry with me again, and she had doled out a really bad punishment this time. She had retired the whips that she normally used and beat me with chains until I couldn’t move. I had felt someone moving me, but I’d thought Supervillain had sent for someone to drag me back for more punishing. I didn’t think that a deranged hero had kidnapped me to have as a surrogate baby. Nobody thinks that.

“Whaa . . . ‘appe-” It was difficult to speak around the bottle. Some of the formula (if it could even be called formula) leaked out of my mouth, and Hero wiped it away.

“I found you on the floor of one of their dungeons. You were so hurt,” Hero replied, smoothing down my hair. That would not be easy; it hadn’t been brushed in a while and it had become matted. “But it’s OK, I have you now. You are going to spend the rest of your life being Daddy’s baby boy, and Daddy will protect you from bad people forever.”

“Daddy?” I freaked out. Who the hell would want to be a ‘daddy’ to a grown man? I didn’t realize the Hero’s League had forgotten to screen for maniacs.

“Sweetie, try not to move. You got hurt, OK?” Annoyingly, Hero was right; someone had put a cast on my leg and wrapped me in bandages. “And now Daddy needs to look after you fully. Your baths, your clothes, your food, everything. Daddy will love you to pieces.”

This was a nightmare. Hero couldn’t be seeing me without clothes! I had to maintain my dignity, and that involved keeping some space between myself and Hero. He was so creepy, staring at me with those huge, unhinged eyes and that giant smile. Hero walked towards me and sighed sadly.

“I understand, precious. I truly do. You’re scared of me because you don’t know what I’ll do to you.” Hero sighed and held my face so I looked him in the eyes. “But that isn’t going to happen, Villain. I have been watching you for some time, and I know that you won’t be taken care of properly if anyone else is trusted to take care of you. And because I love you so much, I will be looking after you. You will not need to worry about a single thing, and with time, you will call me Daddy, and I will call you my baby boy.”

“What?!” This was getting creepier and creepier. How was Hero going to expect me to call him Daddy? That was creepy as hell and just sounded dirty!

“It’s OK, precious, don’t be frightened, shh.” Hero was snuggling me nice and tight, and there was nothing I could do about it. “Nobody will ever hurt you again, understand? Hush, my love.”

“But Supervillain-”

“Is dead,” Hero interrupted. “You won’t be worrying about that any more. You just rest and focus on getting better.”

When I heard that, I sat in the strange new bed with my mouth hanging open. Supervillain was dead. How? Had Hero done it or had he just found her dead? Does this mean a deranged murderer had kidnapped me for his own fantasies of parenthood? Hero frantically rushed to soothe me, like I was a real baby.

“Sweetie, don’t be upset! I know you must have been really sad about your job going away, but this is for the best. Your daddy can look after you forever now, with no interruptions!” Hero scooped me up and snuggled next to me.

“You’re not my daddy!” I yelled.

“I am now. You’re adopted into my family, baby boo,” Hero cooed. “You’re just not used to having a daddy in your life. Well, that can change. You can practice calling me Daddy right now.”

“Hero, no!” I yelled. I yelled some other things too, but he didn’t care. He just waited until I was exhausted. He wrapped me in a blanket and rocked me to sleep.

“You’re going to love your daddy eventually,” he whispered.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

From that moment on, all of my days went the same. I would be woken up by Hero (still calling himself my daddy) for breakfast which would be fed to me in a bottle in bed. After that, I was bathed and my hair was slowly brushed. Hero loved making my hair all fluffy and soft, buying an exorbitant amount of hairbrushes for the task.

After the bath, my bandages were changed and I would be fed lunch by Hero, which was mostly various soups, because I couldn’t chew for quite some time. I would be put to bed for a nap and woken up later for physical therapy so I could move properly without pain. Part of that included massages, where scented oils and moisturisers were rubbed into my skin. Hero enjoyed being able to touch me, and I didn’t stop him because it felt like l was in heaven from the way the hands rubbed and kneaded.

The end of the day for us consisted of dinner in front of the TV as we watched a movie, before being placed into soft footed onesie pyjamas. I would be put to bed yet again, and Hero would climb into bed with me and hold me with a scarily strong grip.

Eventually, I became OK with all of it. This was safer than any place I’d ever lived in before. Hero had had many chances to hurt me, but hadn’t taken any of them. And the foods were actually filling and nutritious, unlike the greasy slop I’d been eating before. I’m not going to lie, I did miss chewing but my daddy promised me that when I was well enough, I could have solid foods to eat. Life was just better with Hero, or as I now called him, Daddy.

Admittedly, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Hero only responded to Daddy, so that was what I called him. Soon, I called Hero Daddy whenever I spoke to him.

“Daddy, I need my bandages changed.”

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Daddy, I’m cold.”

“Daddy, it stings.”

It even got inside my thoughts.

I wonder what movie Daddy and I will be watching together.

I wonder if Daddy will bring the nice oil to rub me with.

I hope Daddy won’t pull at my hair when he brushes it.

Maybe Daddy will let me have solid food today.

Daddy loved looking after me. I would hear him humming as he brushed my hair, as he rubbed oils into my skin, as he prepared a smoothie for my breakfast.

In fact, Daddy didn’t seem to want me to leave. My room was painted in my favourite colour once Daddy knew what it was, and he even found several of my things from my old apartment. “I can’t let you go, honey,” Daddy smiled. “You’re far too sweet and innocent; you’ll get hurt again. Besides, you are my baby boy, and I can’t let you leave to a place that I know is unsafe. You are going to need a lot of looking after.” And then I got scooped up by Daddy and he kept me in his arms for the whole day. It felt so good.

This wouldn’t be the first time that Daddy would scoop me up and carry me places. Daddy didn’t like the walking therapy, because it stopped him from carrying me all the time, but he did it for me. I was carried whenever I looked tired, whenever I was cranky, anything so Daddy could ‘relieve me of the burden of walking’.

“Does my baby boy need anything else?” Daddy would ask, smiling. He always smiled, except for when I had physical therapy to do. Daddy didn’t like it when I had to walk for physical therapy, and was incensed when he was told that, for my benefit, I would have to walk for at least an hour every day, but he did it for me because he loves me so much.

For our new daily walk, Daddy took me to the safest places, keeping an eye on me so I wouldn’t stumble and hurt myself. It became our routine, and Daddy would congratulate me for doing so well with my walking. Even when I wasn’t doing very well at walking (sometimes, my legs would become weak and I would be unable to walk), Daddy would still be so nice to me, with kisses and bed rest and everything I would need.

I love my daddy so much.

And I know that my daddy loves me.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Forced Vacation- Part 1

Hero collapsed on the couch, not even bothering to change out of their suit. They were just drifting off when they heard the latch to their window click, then the window opening. Hero groaned. They were so tired, why did they have to deal with a break-in?

They willed themselves to move; they opened their eyes and saw a shadow looming over them. Before they could react, something sharp pierced their thigh. Hero cried out, glaring up at Villain.

“What was that for!?”

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Villain whispered.

“I most certainly will not!” Hero shouted, “I- I… I...mm…”

Hero blinked in an effort to clear their blurry vision. Villain got off of them and started looking around Hero's apartment. Hero rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor with a thud.

“Villain!” Hero slurred, “get back here!”

“Which way to your bedroom?” Villain asked, ignoring them.

“I'm not telling you!”

“Fair enough, I'll find it myself, it's not like you live in a mansion… I should really fix that.”

Villain hummed to themselves while Hero pathetically crawled after them. Villain started going through Hero's dresser, pulling out various garments like- swimwear!?

“Did you just come here to steal my wardrobe?” Hero mumbled.

“Oh please,” Villain scoffed, “who would want these? I have half a mind to call the fashion police. Hm, we'll just pick you up some things along the way.”

Hero was finding it increasingly difficult to focus. Villain stalked over to them, crouching down to inspect them.

“You're not out yet?” Villain asked, tilting their head.

“No,” Hero bit out, “I'm…not…”

Hero's eyes fluttered shut as they collapsed on their side. They distantly felt Villain scoop them up in a bridal carry, then there was nothing.

…

Hero stirred to a pressure in their ears. Their eyelids slowly lifted and they saw Villain sitting opposite them, reading a book.

“Morning,” Villain drawled, turning a page, “or afternoon. I don't keep track of the time zones up here.”

Up here? Hero ‘s head swiveled to the side. They looked out a small, round window and saw fluffy white clouds and a blue sky. Their eyes went wide. They turned back to Villain, and sprang to their feet. Well, they tried to, but something kept them in place.

“That's for your own safety,” Villain said, gesturing vaguely to the various straps pulled taut across Hero's body, “and my peace of mind.”

“Safety!? A seatbelt is safety, Villain! This is- what even is all this!? Why am I on a plane, why am I strapped down, why did you kidnap me!?”

Villain snapped their fingers, and a henchman brought over a glass of water with a straw. They held it to Hero's lips. Hero then realized how dry their mouth was, and reluctantly drank against their better judgment.

“That's drugged,” Villain said nonchalantly.

Hero froze, having already swallowed most of the water. Villain finally looked up from their book and laughed.

“Oh, your face~,” Villain cackled, “too cute! It's just spring water, Hero, with a little bit of lemon.”

Hero visibly relaxed.

“As for your other questions,” Villain continued, “I know you, Hero, and I know when you're overdoing it. As such, I've decided its in your best interest as my nemesis to arrange a vacation for you; well, for both of us, but mostly you. We're going to a tropical island far away from any cities , criminals, or corrupt justice systems.”

“Villain!” Hero protested.

“Hero!” Villain replied with a smirk.

“I can't go on vacation! I have way too much to do! I-” Hero struggled some more in the restraints “-Let me out!”

“Those are there to make sure you don't try anything reckless,” Villain stated, “so calm down, and enjoy the flight.”

A henchman pushed a button, and a TV lowered down from the ceiling. They put a remote control in Hero's hand, then nodded to Villain.

“You will let me know if you get motion sickness, won't you?” Villain asked, picking their book up again.

“UGH!”

...

When they landed, Villain set their book down and reached in their belt pocket for something. They produced another syringe.

“Oh come on!” Hero whined.

“It's not that bad,” Villain argued, “just a small pinch, look-"

Villain injected the contents into Hero's leg. Hero stifled a yelp. Two henchmen came and unstrapped Hero from their seat. Hero immediately stood, only to lurch forward. Villain caught them easily.

“Falling for me? You flatter me,” Villain teased.

“Get off,” Hero said, “I appreciate the concern, but you can't just kidnap people whenever you feel like it!”

“Of course I can, I'm doing it right now, aren't I?”

Villain lifted Hero up into their arms, walking them off the plane. Hero fought to stay awake. Villain deposited them in a luxury car, climbing in next to them. Hero dozed off a moment later.

Part 2

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

[em-writes-stuff]

Whumptober days 1-3

@whumptober-archive

prompts: “This wasn’t supposed to happen”, cornered, hair’s breadth from death

warnings: blood, vague descriptions of field care, cursing, reference to past torture, emotional manipulation (implied), physical whump, captivity, younger whumpee(s) (not specified but all of them are roughly 5-15yrs younger than whumper), multiple whumpees, emetophobia 

characters: sidekick, villain, hero, henchman

1346 words

a/n: not edited

___

Henchman paces around the small room, muttering to himself. Every few seconds he stops and stares at Sidekick, who stands staring at him in the corner near the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger with a foot up on the wall. 

Sidekick takes a deep breath and resists the urge to shout at Henchman to just take a fucking seat and shut up. But, Hero told him to watch Henchman; so that’s what he’ll do. That’s what he’s done for the past three days. Even if Henchman’s muttering is more annoying than the way the rock in the tread of his shoe scraped against the floor every single time he takes a step. Even if his uneven breathing is more annoying than the rock in the shoe. Even if his constant movement was setting Sidekick on edge. Even if-

The door opens and Hero’s head pops in. “Hey,” he says, pulling Sidekick out of his thoughts. “Villain won’t say anything so I need you to leave.” 

“Those two things don’t even remotely relate to each other.” Sidekick says. Hero steps into the room and Sidekick can see blood trapped under his fingernails. His mouth opens, “Oh.” 

He walks out of the room and looks back at Henchman, now backed into a corner of the room, watching as Hero stalks towards him. 

Sidekick looks away and wanders down from where Hero had come from. If he thinks hard enough, he can drown out the screaming from behind him. 

The doors in the hallway are always closed, so it’s a guessing game for Sidekick to find the one holding Villain. 

It’s easy enough to ignore the ones he knows the contents of. His room, Hero’s room, guest room, bathroom, laundry room, and so on and so forth. The basics all thrown into an abandoned two story apartment building. 

He figures that Hero wouldn’t put Villain on the ground floor since it would be much easier for her to escape. But the second floor had much more valuable information. She could be in one of the closets, since they lock from the outside, but he doubts Hero would have put the effort of moving everything out to do so. 

He opens a door, just to put his mind onto something else and when he pops his head in to look around the room, he nearly throws up. 

Most of the carpet is soaked with blood and the room is hot. He opens the door all the way and pulls his shirt over his nose. It barely helps with the smell. 

Villain’s hunched over, her hair in front of her face so Sidekick can’t tell if she’s awake or not. Although, with what he knows of Hero’s…interrogation tactics it doesn’t matter much. 

The carpet squelches under his boot and he has to take a deep breath to keep the rising bile down. She’s tied to a ladderback chair, feet bound to the legs of the chair and arms tied behind her back, there’s a thick leather strap holding her up right under her throat and Sidekick can see irritated red skin around it. 

He curses under his breath and walks behind the chair to undo the buckle. When he pulls against the strap to loosen it, Villain’s head shoots up. 

She thrashes wildly in the chair, rocking it and nearly falling over with the force. He pulls his hands away from the buckle. 

“Not Hero.” he says gently. Though, if she did hear him, she didn’t care. He walks in front of the chair and crouches down, pulling his shirt off his face and looks into her eyes. “I’m undoing this strap. Just sit still please.” 

Her jaw juts out in defiance, but she stills and Sidekick walks around to the back of the chair again. 

“Where’s Henchman?” she asks painfully. “Is he…” 

“He’s fine,” Sidekick says. “Or. He was when I last saw him.” 

“When.” 

“Just before I came here. Hero needed to be alone with him.” he pauses. 

She tenses and takes a deep, shaky breath. “Is he going to…” 

“I-I don’t know. I hope not.” Sidekick shakes his head and finishes with the buckle, letting the leather fall to the floor. “I don’t think he will.” 

Villain slouches forward, arms the only thing keeping her from falling all the way forward. Sidekick takes the strap in his hands and throws it to the other side of the room. 

“He can’t die. Not like that. He deserves so much better,” she whispers. “If Hero kills him…it’s all my fault. I told him to stay home but he followed me. There was enough time to get him somewhere safe before you and Hero ambushed us but-” 

“Hero won’t kill him. Right now he’s got leverage. He knows that.” Sidekick says. And he prays he’s right. He clears his throat. “Do you want me to treat some of these? I almost have a medical degree.” 

She scoffs. “How do I know you won’t do something to make them worse?” 

“Wait two days and you’ll probably die of infection.” he snaps back. 

She stares at him and blinks. “Treat them, don’t treat them. I couldn’t give a fuck either way.” 

He takes a deep breath and leaves the room. 

As soon as the door closes, he runs to his room and grabs his bag. He puts on two masks in an attempt to dull the smell, but he knows it probably won’t help. 

The hallway is eerily quiet on his walk back to Villain’s room and he knows Hero’s done with whatever he was doing and would be looking for him soon. 

He ignores the smell by some miracle and patches up the worst of what he can see, after just forty-five minutes he’s nearly satisfied. 

Almost fifty stitches litter her skin, gauze over what he didn’t think would stitch up nicely, he wrapped a few fingers that had been broken and gave her quite a few painkillers. 

“This is probably all you’re gonna get. Hero won’t be happy I’m doing this for you so I won’t be able to come back unless you’re dying.” he says, closing the lid to the bottle and stuffing it in the bottom of his bag. 

“You’re a weird one, Sidekick,” she says, almost smiling. “Why are you with Hero? You could do so much more good with literally anyone else.” 

The bag zips and he stands up, throwing it over his shoulder. “It really wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Hero was the good guy, you know? He fought the big bad and saved everyone. Now it’s too late to leave.” he coughs and looks around the room, making sure he hadn’t missed anything when he was picking everything up. “I’ll try to convince Hero to let you heal up some. No promises. Don’t do anything stupid and tell him what he wants to know. I’ll do my best to take care of Henchman. Just…stay alive. Okay?” he sniffs and leaves the room again. 

Hero’s in his room. Sitting on his bed, flipping through one of his picture books. He sets the book spine-up on the bed and stands up. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Hero says. 

Sidekick takes a deep breath and drops his bag on the floor. “I was treating Villain.” 

Hero bangs his fist on the dresser next to him and picture frames fall with the impact. “Did I ask you to do that?” Before Sidekick has the chance to respond, Hero answers for him. “Of course you didn’t. Because you just do whatever the fuck you want to whenever the fuck you want to. You’re lucky we’re on the same side because if we weren’t I would have killed you ages ago.” 

Sidekick takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw. “She was going to die if I didn’t do anything. You need her to tell you about Supervillain. She can’t do that if she’s dead.” 

“You don’t go back in there. Understand?”  Hero spits on the ground and pushes past Sidekick.

“Yes, sir.” Sidekick whispers. 

[automeris-io-moth]

Reunion

That morning Hero felt particularly tired. 

Perhaps Villain had noticed early when greeting them at breakfast, such was the reason the servants were fetched to help them shower, help them dress and eat, fed by hand as if not humiliated enough by then, trapped by the fact they were indeed unable to lift the cutlery. 

Perhaps it had been Villain’s doing. Perhaps it had been the tea, perhaps it had been something else. 

Later, Hero was taken to the main hall of the former gubernatorial palace right in the heart of the city, where a wood and gold throne laid. Hero had once, long ago, made a joke about Villain compensating for something with such a cartoonish display of power, but then they had no energy to obnoxiously repeat it, as they did every time they entered the place. Mockery was one of the few things Hero had left after all. 

Yet, that day they could barely keep their head upright, a foggy sense of nausea crepting up their throat, a heavy weight pushing them down from the top of their head kept them glued to Villain that morning, head laying on the other's shoulder as Hero laid across their lap, their enemy's hands stroked up and down their arms and back, warming them from the coldness of the room. 

"Let them in," Villain's voice boomed across the hall, the echo remaining a second longer. 

The old wooden doors creaked open, uneven steps entering the room, as if being rushed, and Hero hid their head from the sharp noise. 

"What do you think I should do, love?” Villain asked the Hero this time, pressing their lips against their hair  “Four intruders wandering around, trying to enter our home to steal god knows what.” 

And Hero tried, tried to twist their head to look at the people standing before them, distinguishing them on their knees, half aware of the number mentioned, half aware of their factions, of what they wore. 

Half aware that they knew them. 

“I told you, Leader,” one said, a whisper too sharp to fulfil its purpose of being discreet “they sold us out.” 

“Shut up, Teammate, what about that?” The called answered, face straightening and, for a moment, Hero could swear they made eye contact “What are you looking to prove with this display, Villain?” 

Villain huffed a laugh, turning Hero’s head back to them  “Come on Leader, do you really think I put this show just for you?” 

They had, Hero thought, Villain usually preferred if they weren’t seen. Just for their eyes, they had once said, when they were, as that day, too out of their mind to talk back. 

“What did you do to them?” 

“I would never hurt them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” they answered, hands pulling them ever so close to their chest, curling if only lightly to embrace them “I’m not like you.” 

“We never…” 

“Yes you have,” they answered “I’ve seen every scar in their body, and I’m responsible for only one. Don’t lie to my face please.” 

“They knew what they were doing! It was for the greater good,” Teammate answered this time, sweat dripping from their forehead to the blood, taking the dirt with it. 

“Such a funny concept is the greater good. I can assure you it holds no meaning to me, there is nothing greater than keeping what's mine close and unblemished, and you have scarred it, sadly.”

With a hand on their hip, and the other on their neck, Villain twisted Hero’s head slightly to the right, where their team knelt, eyes glazed, barely open enough to discern their shadows, they could see one turn away from their unintentional stare. 

“So what would a fitting punishment be,” they asked in the air, looking down at Hero “I accept suggestions, my light.”

_

Masterlist

[epiclamer]

Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!

My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!

Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!

Subtle

“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.

“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.

“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”

Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.

The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”

Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.

“Did you use antiseptic?”

“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.

“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”

They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.

“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.

Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.

Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.

“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.

The hero was always so full of surprises.

“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.

Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…

It was for their own good.