#villain whumper

[the-bloody-sadist]

Mori’s playing with sharp objects ✂️💉(full ver on Patreon)

#yaoi #whump #art #whumpblr #whump art #whump boys #whump community #medical whump #intimate whumper #intimate whump #toxic yaoi #morizai #mori ogai #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd fanart #bungou stray dogs #anime whump #creepy whumper #whump prompts #whumpee #noncon whump #anime #horror art #mori x Dazai #villain shipping #villain whumper #crying whumpee

[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.

#whump #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #hero whumpee #villain whumper #mind control #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #hypnotized #hypnotized hero #captured hero #compelling voice

[epiclamer]

Part 2

“You’re finally awake~”

Sidekick barely registered the voice over the pounding of their heart in their head. They stretched their neck up to try and see whomever had tied them spread eagle to a bed, but could hardly get a glance from their restrained position.

Footsteps resounded through the room until they stopped somewhere near the foot of the bed. The hero-in-training gulped, they were terrified.

“W-Who are you?”

Their capturer huffed a laugh, stepping over to the side of the bed and into the sidekick’s view. “You’ve yet to meet me, darling. I’m a friend of your friend.”

The sidekick pursed their lips in an awkward frown, masking their unease. “By friend, you mean enemy… right?”

The other, presumably Villain (the sidekick guessed), smirked. “I guess you could say that.”

Hot sweat ran down the sidekick’s back and into the soft sheets below them, for some reason their whole body felt hot. Were they drugged? Truth serum-ed? Maybe even poisoned?

“You might have a concussion, I hit you quite hard over the head.” As if on queue, the sidekick felt a sudden sharp sting at the back of their head and for a sickening moment they realized the sweat coating their hair wasn’t actually sweat at all. “I didn’t think you’d be that easy to take down, if I’m being honest.”

The villain shrugged, somewhat amused as they watched the sidekick’s pale face distort in a mix of unresolved emotions. Eyeing their prisoner up and down from their jail cell of a bed with a look Sidekick had only ever been warned about by Hero before.

Sidekick’s mouth opened and closed, searching for something to say, toying with the idea of talking their way out of a torture session. “Y-You know, Hero is still out there. If you’re looking for them, I-I mean you just missed them—”

“Do they teach you to sell out your superiors immediately in hero school? Or is that just your own last ditch attempt to get away scott-free as a coward?”

Sidekick shut up. Villain had a point, they weren’t exactly painting the best picture for their reputation.

The villain grinned, leaning over the bed and placing a hand against the sidekick’s chest. They let their fingers wander as they spoke, “I will say though, coward or not, you sure are putting this body to waste working for that rat of a hero you call your mentor.”

Their second hand crept up along the sidekick’s torso and the criminal didn’t hesitate to begin slowly unbuttoning their dress shirt. Both of their eyes focused on the bits of skin that were carefully being revealed as they worked the lower buttons apart.

Sidekick’s breath hitched, was Villain seriously hitting on them? What were they doing? What was happening? None of Hero’s master classes could’ve prepared them for this moment.

The further down the villain’s hands went the more the sidekick’s heartbeat picked up. They convinced themselves it was because of the torture that was increasingly impending and not the fact that someone as breathtaking as the villain was, was stripping them down.

They began to struggle, pulling subtly—or so they thought—against their bonds, letting the burn from the rope digging into their skin distract them from the villain’s fingers exploring their body.

Pulling back the fabric of their button-up, Villain revealed the hero-in-training to their hungry eyes. Going straight to teasingly tracing their nails into the sidekick’s skin, relishing in their goosebumps and gasps.

“Sweetheart,” Villain’s eyes flicked to Sidekick’s, digging their nails into their fleshy shoulders hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t pull on the ropes, okay? I guarantee you that my knots are more than strong enough to hold, so be a dear and don’t hurt yourself any more than you already have.”

For some reason, Sidekick stopped, they didn’t fight back harder like they were taught. The villain’s eyes were entrancing and their voice was soft but stern, guiding the sidekick’s actions and thoughts with every word they spoke.

Hero had warned them of that.

Villain smiled, pleased with their captive as they continued their soft tracing of skin. Leaving behind angry, red, crescents on the sidekick’s shoulder in their wake. “Hero spoke of you, but they never mentioned how good you look… What a shame.”

Sidekick’s face burned a beet coloured red. “W-What?”

“Well, I would’ve kidnapped you a lot sooner if I had known~” Villain drawled as if it were obvious and Sidekick cursed their lucky genes.

“But enough chit chat,” the criminal brought their hands back to their sides. “Let’s get back to the real reason you’re here…”

And in a second the sidekick’s heart lurched into their throat at the ‘snap’ of switchblade flipping open.

#im backkkk #or am i? #i miss cat #🥲 #hero x villain #villain #villain x hero #hero #drabbles #fantasy #imagines #scenarios #hero and villain #villain and hero #heroes #villains #heroes x villains #villains x heroes #sidekick #sidekick x villain #whump #sidekick whumpee #sidekick whump #villain whumper #intimate #intimacy #intimate whumper

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee is fighting Whumper with a group of their friends. Whumpee and Whumper fight one on one and Whumper pins Whumpee down. They don't understand what is happening at first, but then Whumper pushes their palm against Whumpee's head. It starts with burning, then screaming, then the world goes dark. Whumper removes their hand and Whumpee has a mind control rune on their forehead.

"Stand up." Whumpee obeys Whumper's command. With a snap of their fingers, Whumper points to Whumpee's friends. "Kill them."

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #noncon body modification #mind control whump #whumpee turned whumper #multiple whumpees #hero whumpee #villain whumper #magic whump #fantasy whump

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

It's Magic

This snippet is for @creweemmaeec11!

-------

Villain pressed the knife deeper into Hero's side, the blade glowing with harmful magic.

"Pathetic little thing," Villain laughed, yanking the blade out.

Hero gasped, lurching forward. They crashed down in the alleyway.

"Lesser beings like you should learn to stay out of my way," Villain said, "maybe your corpse will serve as an example."

Villain cast a spell, causing little cuts to open all over Hero's body. Hero whimpered in pain. They looked up with blurry vision as Villain strode away. Was this really how it was going to end? Killed by a magic user? Hero didn't have the energy to worry about it; they started to drift off, their head light and their limbs heavy.

----

Hero stirred to the feeling of a gentle rocking sensation.

"Mm..." they mumbled.

"Shhh," a voice soothed.

The rocking sensation stopped suddenly as Hero was laid down on a soft surface. They forced their eyes to open. They tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed them back down.

"Don't-" the voice said softly, "don't get up. You're hurt."

Hero stared up at their rescuer. Their vision cleared, and their face went pale. Hero scuttled back on the couch.

"S-Supervillain," Hero breathed.

Hero's breaths quickened, coming out in short little gasps. Their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," they said, "I promise."

Supervillain took a step closer, and Hero flinched hard, screwing their eyes shut. Instead of a harsh strike or a dark spell, Hero felt the gentle pressure of a hand on their forehead. They cracked an eye open and looked at Supervillain.

"No fever, that's good," Supervillain said.

Soft green light emanated from Supervillain's hands. Hero's breathing became deep of its own accord. Hero blinked in confusion.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hero asked.

"It's a calming spell," Supervillain explained, "I don't want you to panic."

Supervillain gestured to Hero's shirt.

"May I?" they asked.

Hero felt themselves nodding, a forced calm settling over them. Supervillain thanked them and lifted their shirt.

"It seems to be healing well," Supervillain said, "my magic made short work of your cuts, but this stab wound was pretty bad."

"Magic?"

"Yes, my healing magic. You're lucky to be alive, if I hadn't found you... well, it doesn't matter now."

Normally the mention of magic would have Hero hyperventilating, but the calming spell was weaving its way through their mind and body, keeping them pacified.

"Let me work on your wound some more, you don't deserve a scar."

Magenta light flowed from Supervillain's hands into Hero's healing wound. The area began to feel warm and fuzzy. Hero watched as the wound faded away completely, leaving nothing but smooth, undamaged skin.

"Can I get you anything?" Supervillain asked.

"I, um..."

"How about something to eat and drink?" Supervillain offered.

Hero quickly shook their head. What if they poisoned it? Then again, Supervillain probably wouldn't go through the trouble to save them just to poison them... on the other hand, though, this was Supervillain they were talking about, and-

A floating tray of food interrupted Hero's thoughts. On the tray was a bowl of chili and a cup of water. Supervillain ushered the tray over with a finger. It settled a few inches over Hero.

"It's, uh, it's waiting for you to sit up," Supervillain said.

Hero sat up cautiously. The tray, satisfied, landed gently on Hero's lap. The spoon flew into Hero's hand. Hero yelped in surprise.

"Yes, that particular spoon is rather forward," Supervillain said apologetically, "you'll get used to it."

Hero gulped. What would happen if they didn't eat? Would Supervillain kill them in a harsher way? The spoon, growing impatient, zipped out of Hero's hand, filled itself with a helping of chili, and forced its way into their mouth.

"Mm!"

Flavors danced on Hero's tongue; the chili was absolutely delicious. The spoon left Hero's mouth and grabbed another helping of chili. It waited for Hero to swallow.

"I wouldn't poison you, if that's what you're worried about," Supervillain said, "I went through a bit of trouble to save you."

Hero swallowed hesitantly. The spoon eagerly shoved the next bite of chili into their mouth. Hero grabbed the spoon and started to feed themselves. Supervillain smiled.

"Why... why did you save me?" Hero asked.

Supervillain's smile faltered, replaced with a concerned expression.

"I couldn't just leave you there," Supervillain said.

"Yes you could've! You're Supervillain! You're the most powerful mage in the city, and I'm..."

"Yes?" Supervillain prompted.

"I fight mages! I'm your enemy!" Hero blurted.

Supervillain sighed. They waved a hand and an armchair tottered forward. Supervillain sat down, snapping their fingers. A cup of tea materialized out of thin air. Supervillain took a sip of it, then set it on the saucer, which was still floating nearby.

"Why do you fight mages?" Supervillain asked, as though Hero had come in for a therapy session.

"Because they use magic! And magic is- well, it's evil isn't it?"

"Look around you," Supervillain gestured to the room, "I've been using magic nonstop since I brought you here. Have I been using it for evil?"

Hero didn't respond.

"I've done nothing but heal you and tend to you with my powers," Supervillain continued, "what I want is for magic users and non-magic users to get along and enjoy each other's gifts. Of course, not everyone shares my sentiment, such as the mage who attacked you."

Hero shook their head, trying to rationalize Supervillain's words. Supervillain sighed again and stood. The tray floated away with the empty chili bowl. The spoon followed it back to the kitchen.

"You should get some rest," Supervillain said, summoning a blanket, which draped itself over Hero, "let me know if you need anything."

Supervillain began to leave.

"Wait!" Hero said weakly.

Supervillain turned.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, Supervillain," Hero said quietly.

Supervillain cracked a small smile.

"You're welcome..."

"Hero," Hero said, "my name is Hero."

"You're welcome, Hero."

Supervillain flicked their wrist, and the lights went out. They left the room to let Hero sleep. Hero snuggled under the blanket and closed their eyes. They were still very confused about many things, but maybe magic wasn't as evil as they had thought.

Ko-fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld  @surplus-of-sarcasm

#hero x villain #writeblr #writing #creative writing #whump #hurt/comfort #hero whumpee #villain whumper #supervillain caretaker #hero x villain writing #hero x supervillain #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #magic #nonmagic hero #magic supervillain #mage #stabbing #magic healing #caretaking

[whump-in-the-closet]

Hear me out (again).

Superhero whump, where VIllian’s power is to hurt people with touch.

So, basically, Villian can torture Hero for hours without having to stop because they aren’t hurting Hero’s physical body (if that makes sense?)

(And what if, since it doesn’t leave scars nobody believes Hero later?)

DUDE YES. YESYES YES. there is so much angst and suffering

At first, Hero didn’t understand why Villain wore gloves. Then Villain traced the tip of their finger over Hero’s jaw, and it made sense.

If someone had shoved a cattle prod under their skin, it would have hurt less. The pain was electric, and throbbed through their entire body— pounding behind their eyes—sinking deeper than any physical blow.

Hero didn’t realize they were shaking until Villain laughed softly. “Why, I’ve only touched you.”

Villain wrapped a hand around Hero’s wrist, watching as they jerked back against their restraints, back arching in a silent scream. “I thought you were tougher than that,” said Villain and took hold of Hero’s other wrist. This time, Hero cried out— the sound more animal than human.

The torture session lasted six hours. After, Villain pulled out a handheld mirror. Hero didn’t know what they expected to see but…they looked the same. Like the past six hours never happened.

The second session lasted seven hours. After the fifth, Hero stopped screaming because their voice no longer worked.

“It’s not like you have information I want,” Villain told them. “This is just fun.”

When Hero’s teammates find them, they expect Hero to be battered, beaten, unrecognizable. Sure, Hero was chained to a table, but they looked fine. They had deep purple bags under their eyes and looked terrified, but other than that? they looked fine.

“You couldn’t manage to get of here on your own?”

They undo Hero’s restraints but make no other effort to help them.

Later, no one notices how Hero flinches from touch.

Hero doesn’t allow anyone to place a hand on them. Ever. Everyone assumes Hero is simply paranoid. But when it continues, the team grows tired.

“You’re fine. Villain didn’t even hurt you.”

“You really expect us to believe you got hurt in there? The medic’s report said you had no physical damage.”

“Stop trying to make us pity you. It’s not working”

Hero looks in the mirror and tries, desperately, to find any sign of the electric pain they endured. There’s nothing. Their eyes are emptier though, glassy and cold.

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump ideas #whump community #whump scenario #troy talks #thanks for the ask anon you’re so right for this #hero whumpee #hero and villain #villain whumper #team dynamic

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

In march, you wrote a snippet of a love potion thingy with villain and hero. What happens to them next

(Oops I'm very late to respond to this. I didn't forget! I'm just slow and in college)

This is a sequel to THIS. It is recommended you read for context, but it can be summed up as "Superhero drugs Villain with a love potion, then offers them Hero in exchange for Villain not causing trouble."

Content warning: mutual noncon, non consensual touching (nonsexual), noncon drugging, maybe vaguely spicy but not at all NSFW.

Hero had never felt more helpless in their life.

The cuffs on their limbs were unyielding, keeping them locked into the metal chair beneath them. They were trapped in Villain’s hideout, no chances of reaching the outside world, no hope of reasoning with their captor. If anyone noticed their absence, they’d surely be too late to save them.

Villain remained perched on Hero’s lap, legs possessively straddling their waist. Their face was flush, eyes glassy and skin unnaturally warm. Their dazed, blissful grin was uncanny on their face. They looked sick.

The love potion was still clutched in their fingers. Hero knew that once they were forced to drink it, they’d end up with the same blissful, clueless smile painted on Villain’s face.

“Baby, don’t be stubborn,” Villain’s words were clear despite the haze in their eyes. They gave Hero a pleading look. “Just open your mouth for me. I don’t want to force you…”

“P-please, you don’t want this. Superhero drugged you; you’re not in your right mind,” they knew it was pointless, that Villain was far beyond reasoning. But they couldn’t stop themselves from trying.

Their pleas fell on deaf ears. Villain only chuckled, dragging a thumb over Hero’s lips. “Of course I want this. I want you, I always have. Superhero just helped me realize that.”

Villains’s touch felt like sandpaper against their skin. It wasn’t that they disliked Villain, nor that the criminal was unattractive. They were charming at times, quick witted and cunning. They were gorgeous. But Hero didn’t want this. Not when Villain didn’t have a choice, not when it was part of some sick scheme to remove Villain by stripping them of free will. It was sick, and Hero felt dirty for their unwilling part in it.

Their eyes stung. “I don’t want this.”

For a moment, Villain’s grin faltered. That didn’t stop them from popping the vial in their hand open. “I know. I didn’t want it either, until I learned better,” without hesitation, Villain brought the potion to their own mouth, swallowing a mouthful. Hero knew what was coming the moment Villain leaned forward, but they felt paralyzed when Villain’s lips touched their own. For a brief moment, they could only think of how soft Villain’s lips were.

They could taste the potion on Villain’s tongue. It was sickly sweet, like a cake that’d begun to sour. It was viscous, slimey. They tried to pull away on instinct, but Villain’s possessive grip on the back of their head didn’t allow for it. Hero shivered as they felt Villain's tongue brush against their own.

Distantly, Hero hoped that the tainted kiss wouldn’t be enough to affect them. A sudden wave of unnatural dizziness quickly proved them wrong. They squeezed their eyes shut against the disorientation, breathing deeply to steady themselves. They tried to ignore how their senses suddenly latched onto the smell of Villain’s hair.

Villain eventually released them. “There. Now was that so bad?” Villain cooed, breath brushing against Hero’s cheek. They shifted their position, moving themselves to rest their head against Hero’s shoulder. Hero had no room to pull away.

“Villain, please,” It felt like the potion was coating every surface of their mouth, making their teeth ache. They needed to get out. “You got what you wanted, so just let me–,” They paused as a sudden pain pulsed through their body, causing them to grimace. Felt like their every muscle had gone suddenly, painfully taught. Like every heartbeat was fueling a rising pain. Like every inch of skin was being rubbed raw.

They inhaled sharply, taken aback. They’d never heard about love potions hurting.

Villain seemed to read their mind. “It’s a little precaution from your…friend,” something hard entered Villain’s voice, something nearly recognizable as their normal self. “You can’t will it away, Hero. It’s agonizing, I can promise you that. And it’ll only get worse if you insist on being stubborn. So please,” and just like that, the sharpness of their tone dissolved back into a lovesick whine. “Just open your eyes. I can’t stand seeing you suffer.”

Hero didn’t respond, too focused on taking slow, deep breaths in hopes of abating the pain. It hurt, it hurt everywhere, building with each moment. They clenched tightly at the chair beneath them, flinching with each growing pulse of pain.

Their only comfort was the warm weight on their lap. Villain’s touch chased away the growing pain, a reprieve Hero found themselves increasingly desperate for. But every cell in Hero’s body knew that it wouldn’t be enough. It was like dipping a foot into cool water while the rest of their body burned.

They didn’t need Villain to tell them how to stop it. Relief was a blink away. Hero squeezed their eyes shut.

They could feel Villain’s eyes on them. “What point is there in this stubbornness? Darling, you’re only hurting yourself.”

“I have to!” Hero spat through gritted teeth. Their breath hitched, and Hero didn’t know if it was sweat or tears running down their face. “This is wrong, Superhero’s wrong,” They leaned into Villain’s touch, desperate for relief. It wasn’t nearly enough. “And I-, I need to help you. You have to let me go.”

Villain only laughed, and Hero’s heart soared at the melodic noise. “You truly are something. So earnest, all for someone like me…” Villain leaned forward once more, and Hero’s breath caught in their throat. Villain’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I’ll compromise then, yes? Kiss me, and I’ll let you go.”

They could feel Villain’s face near theirs, mere inches away. But Villain didn’t move closer. Hero shivered.

It was a bad idea, a horrible idea. Hero knew that. They were disgusted with how tempted they were to lean in regardless. Their heart pounded at the thought, quieting the morals screaming for them to stop.

They needed to get out. They could escape Villain, wait for the potion to leave their system, and try again. If saving Villain meant a single kiss, then that was alright, wasn’t it?

They desperately wanted it to be alright. The pain rose another octave, and Hero was leaning forward before they could reconsider.

Relief flowed through their body at the contact, quieting their mind. Villain gave a low, satisfied hum, and Hero swallowed the noise greedily. They felt a blush rising to their cheeks, their heart fluttering with joy. They tugged at their restraints, wishing they could wrap their arms around Villain and pull them in.

They felt like they were losing themselves, and it was becoming harder to understand why that was a bad thing. But it was fine. As long as they didn’t let things go too far. As long as they didn’t open their–

Villain pulled away suddenly, and it felt like the floor had fallen from underneath Hero. The loss of their touch hurt more than anything they’d ever felt.

“No!” Their body lurched forward on instinct, chasing after the contact. They didn’t realize they’d been freed until they’d unwittingly launched themselves from their chair. With a startled gasp, Hero tumbled forward, sending themselves and Villain to the ground. Villain yelped in pain underneath them.

Hero didn’t realize they’d opened their eyes until they’d already started diligently searching Villain’s body for injuries. They only found a beautiful, triumphant grin, and found that they couldn’t tear their eyes away. Pain drained away, replaced so swiftly with a pleasant, warm buzz that Hero could scarcely remember it. Their reservations were smothered by all consuming, contented joy.

“You’re too easy, darling,” Villain purred, a mischievous twinkle in their eye. Their hair laid like a halo around their head, framing their flushed face in an utterly hypnotic way. Hero couldn’t remember why they’d ever want to look away.

Hero couldn’t find the words to respond. They could only smile.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #my stuff #hero x villain #intimate whumper #noncon touching #whumpee turned whumper #villain whumper #villain whumpee #(get you a man who can do both) #hero whumpee #superhero whumper #drugged whumpee #noncon drugging #love potion

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Hero’s eyes flickered back and forth in a panic. Metal cuffs clasped around both wrists, their ankles secured similarly to the chair legs. How they had gotten here they couldn’t quite remember, and yet the metallic taste in their mouth couldn’t be good.

Their brain pounded inside their skull and Hero had to squint to make sense of the smallest detail. A sea of concrete surrounded them, pillars marked with spray paint and railings tarnished by rust. Behind them, Hero heard the clinking of glass and froze.

A gloved hand brushed along the curve of their shoulders, sending a shudder through every nerve. Hero turned only to be caught at the base of the neck. They sucked in a breath as fingers coiled tight around their throat, releasing just a moment later.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve planned this.” Footsteps echoed along the concrete. Hero craned their neck, anything to pinpoint the form that circled behind them. The hand returned, wrenching their head back before they could get a proper glance.

“Ah, not just yet,” The voice chided, “I didn’t say you could look.”

Hero swallowed their unease, “What do you want?”

They were released, slumping forward from the absence of pressure. More tapping. The high clink of glass was a pinprick in the Hero’s ears.

A pressure at their side made them flinch. A fatal mistake. Hero jerked to the side, and as such ducked straight towards the needle they had failed to notice. A single prick and their skin became fire. Only then did their captor step into the light.

Dark fabric hung loosely from their shoulders, the collar popped on the leather trench coat. Caramel strands fell over their temples and curled at the ends, though failed to conceal the green eyes beneath. Villain greeted them with a feline smile, the syringe still gripped between their fingers.

“You asked what I wanted- well the answer is quite simple darling.” Hero blinked hard, barely able to process the words. Their limbs already felt ten times heavier. “I want you. I always have, and this here will help me achieve just that.” They tapped the syringe and smirked.

Panic shot through the Hero’s veins but they couldn’t move. Their skin prickled all over, numb yet burning at the same time. Even the ache of the cuffs had faded around their wrists. Hero could feel nothing.

They opened their mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. With a knowing smile, Villain shot them a pitiful glance. “Don’t fret,” they said, “when you wake again this will all be so much easier.”

#turtlewrites #hero x villain #cw needles #whump #hero whumpee #villain whumper #whump prompt #whump community #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #prompts #writing prompts

[whumpasaurus101]

A scream ripped from Sidekick's chest, their back slamming against the metal chair as Villains stalked closer. Sidekick heaved in breaths, squeezing their eyes shut as they whimpered, "Pl-please... i swear I don-don't know-"

Villain chuckled, "Don't worry, doll-face, I'm not as interested in Hero anymore, I'm more interested in you..."

Sidekick's eyes blew open as Villain's fingers curled around the edge of their mask. "Nonono, Vi-Villian don't you dare!"

"Oh, someone trying to be brave? How pathetic. Henchman, hold them still."

Two hands planted heavily at the nape of Sidekick's neck, keeping them still as Villain ripped off the Sidekick's mask. It took them a moment to take in the other's face, blood painting their face, complimenting the bright blue eyes that stared up at Villain in total fear.

"Oh darling," Villain cooed, "Aren't you just beautiful... Henchman, grab me the brass knuckles, I want them begging me for mercy by the time I am done with them"

---

continued on my patreon

#sidekick whumpee #villain whumper #hxv #brass knuckles #beating #whump #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #patreon #lee wrote something :o

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (VII)

The Great Escape

Part one here

Continued from this part here

*~*~*~*~*

Kit tied Ambrose up with duct tape. It wasn’t the best thing to restrain Ambrose with, if he really wanted to secure Ambrose the only thing to do would be to tie up his mind. Or use power dampeners.

And as it happened Kit wasn’t able to do either of those.

So he tied Ambrose’s hands behind his back, and duct taped his mouth but Kit was pretty sure Ambrose could use his powers with eye contact alone so he wrapped a long sleeve t-shirt over Ambrose’s eyes and went to his phone.

If Superhero got here by the time Ambrose woke up, he could sort it. He’d have power dampeners and Kit would finally be free of him. Once and for all.

Kit saw his red eyes flash up at him from his phones black screen, and felt nausea climb up his throat at the sight.

It will go away with time, Kit reassured himself, just like the blue does.

Time was of the essence now; he could worry about his fucking eyes later.

Kit unlocked his phone and went to his contact list again. He glanced at Superhero’s name and clicked it. Sure, enough Ambrose’s phone started ringing, bad moon rising echoing around the house again and Kit hung up.

That’s okay.

Ambrose doesn’t know Superhero’s civilian identity, so he was fine.

Kit scrolled down to Superhero’s real name and clicked the green call button.

Bad Moon Rising.

Kit froze in his home. There’s… there’s no way Ambrose knows— there’s no way he forced Kit to tell him was there?

No. Kit was just being paranoid. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

He knows he wouldn’t. He could never betray Superhero like that…

Kit went down to Other Hero’s name and pressed call and Bad moon rising started playing again.

Fucking FUCK!

It’s fine. It’s fine. Everything’s okay. Come on. The Agency’s number is online he could get that, and call and he would be fine.

Kit opened his browser and tapped the search bar. The screen dimmed and a parental control password came up.

A six-digit code.

Kit glared over at the unconscious Ambrose and wanted so badly to kick him in the face. He couldn’t just leave Ambrose here, could he? What if he woke up and got out and used some innocent civilian as his own puppet?

It wasn’t very heroic of him, but Kit honestly didn’t care.

He just wanted to get to Superhero.

Superhero would know what to do. He always knows what to do.

Decision made, Kit grabbed his jacket and keys and left his useless phone and walked out the door.

Or he would have.

If the second he walked out the door he didn’t get an eardrum shattering headache that made white flash behind his eyes and brought him to his knees. Kit cried out, backing up and once he was back in the house the pain stopped and Kit could breathe again.

He let out short, useless pants trying to ground himself and make sense of what just happened, even though he already knew.

Kit got to his feet again, and this time he ran out the door.

It was like a fire alarm going off in his brain, paralysing him. His breath stolen from his lungs and he couldn’t breathe, choking on air like a fish out of water.

Kit scrambled desperately back towards the house, his vision turning black at the corners of his eyes like a vignette as he dragged himself over the threshold of his apartment and collapsed, wheezing. Greedily gasping in gaping breathes and choking on them, his lungs screaming at him for depriving him of oxygen.

Kit started crying.

He sobbed, which didn’t really help the breathing matters, out of pure frustration. Ambrose had let him free. Given him hope that he could somehow win and the whole time, the whole time he knew it didn’t matter if Kit overpowered him, because Ambrose had already ensured that Kit could do nothing even if he was unconscious and incapacitated.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, crying, glaring at Ambrose, but eventually he got hungry, and made his way to the kitchen where Ambrose’s breakfast was waiting for him. Still a bit warm, Kit took some bacon and pudding and sat down with his back to his front door staring at Ambrose because he couldn’t do anything else.

Kit began eating.

*~*~*~*~*

Ambrose stirred within the hour. Groaning and shifting, trying to get comfortable. Then he mumbled something incoherent behind the tape on his mouth. Kit just watched him come to terms with his situation and wondered what kind of sick satisfaction Ambrose got from watching Kit struggle and try to get his bearings.

Ambrose inclined his head, staring directly at Kit even through his makeshift blindfold.

Is all this really necessary? Ambrose asked, voice in Kit’s head.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Kit.

“You’re a fucking bastard, Ambrose. How does it feel to be the one on the back foot?”

I don’t know, Kit. Tell me. How does it feel? Being free. Being so close to escape and yet so far?

Kit clenched his hands into fists and grit his teeth, leaning forward from his place on the ground and wrapping his hands around his knees.

“I guess we’re both stuck like this until you undo whatever you did to me.”

Ambrose relaxed in his stance.

I can sit like this all day.

Kit said nothing.

Or I could always make you untie me, Kit. You don’t want me to force you to free me, do you? Do you really want everyone you love to die by your hands?

“I think you’re threatening me because that’s all you can do. I got something right, didn’t I?” Kit said. “Covered your eyes, do you need your eyes to compel me to do something? Or your voice? Or your hands?”

I think you’ll go mad before you wait me out, Kit. I’m willing to wait, silent and restrained. Want to see how long you can go without speaking to someone? I don’t mind.

Against his better judgement, Kit stood and walked over to Ambrose and yanked the blindfold off. Ambrose stared up at him grinning, dark eyes smug. Kit didn’t waste time going gentle with Ambrose’s gag. He ripped it off and smiled as Ambrose winced, his lips even more red than usual.

“Thank you,” said Ambrose with a smile. “You can untie me now.”

“Untie yourself, you dick.”

“I made you breakfast Kit, come on now. Don’t you want to leave the house?”

Kit’s hands crackled blue sparks up his left arm to his shoulder, glaring down at Ambrose who grinned up at him. “Ooh. Careful, Sparkles. You might hurt yourself there. Your eyes are almost the same colour as your blood.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Kit yelled, feeling the currents run through his hair. Red sparks flew from his usual blue angry and pulsing and dangerous, the red wrapping tight around his fist like a force of its own just begging to let Kit use it to hurt Ambrose.

Just to wipe that stupid smirk off Ambrose’s face, it would be worth it…

“Scary. Go on, kill me,” Ambrose said, leaning forward, closer to the sparks than safety would grant. “Go on. You could do it. You could kill me, if you wanted to.”

Kit froze at that. Kit didn’t kill.

He didn’t kill.

He wasn’t a murderer he was a hero.

“I won’t sink to your level,” Kit said, his voice echoing static with the sound of the sparks flying. The electricity ran from his body in an instant, drained and dissipating. Kit stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the knife block before storming back and kicking Ambrose onto his stomach.

“Harder,” Ambrose said with a strained breath.

Kit dropped down to his knee, dropping his other knee onto Ambrose’s spine and smiled at the grunt of pain Ambrose let out. Then he cut the duct tape around his wrists and got off Ambrose, keeping the knife in his hand as he went and leaned against the door.

“Now get this fucking thing out of my head.”

Ambrose got his hands under him and got to his feet. “I never ate breakfast,” Ambrose said instead, taking the last of the duct tape off his wrists and heading to the kitchen. Casual as if being tied up is an everyday occurrence. “Do you want an egg?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Ambrose shrugged, grabbing the oil and pouring it into the frying pan. “That’s not an answer, but I’ll make two anyways.”

“Get this thing out of my head!”

Ambrose turned slowly. Dark black eyes settling heavy on Kit, cold and threatening.

“In the course of my nap, have you forgotten what I can do to you?” Ambrose asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. A piercing screech rang out in Kit’s mind, and he screamed, hands flying to cup his ears and stop the unmerciful ringing, pounding tight in his brain as if every blood vessel was being stretched and contorted and pulled and twisted, trying to get away from the sound.

The screech got louder the closer Ambrose got to Kit, and louder and louder until it was unbearable— white flashed behind his eyes and Kit was on his knees, screaming for relief, bent double and crying at the floor. It didn’t stop when Ambrose’s boots came within Kit’s sight line. A cold, lithe hand reached down and grabbed Kit’s chin tilting it up. The moment Ambrose’s cold hand made contact; the screeching stopped.

Kit was panting, brain and eyes still fuzzy from the aftereffects of the mental assault. Ambrose tilted Kit’s head all the way back, until he was sitting upright on his knees. Panting and shaking, exhausted. Brain caught between a frenzy of anxiety and a tired induced sloth, like trying to wade through a swamp.

“I could keep you on your knees like this forever, Kit. Like a pretty little statue, something to stare at, something that doesn’t speak or think. Just a dazed little angel, would you like that?”

Kit swallowed the lump in his throat and sniffed, his nose running from crying and screaming. In answer he reached a hand up, pulling at Ambrose’s hold but Ambrose grabbed his wrist before it made contact and bent it back on itself.

Kit hissed out a breath through his teeth, glaring through pained eyes at Ambrose who just smiled down at him.

“Let go of me!” Kit grumbled pulling his head back. Ambrose twisted his wrist more in reply and Kit cried out, trying to yank his hand free, jerking back. Ambrose’s grip didn’t relent, in fact, he tightened his grip on Kit’s face, pinching his cheeks together with one hand.

“Kit,” Ambrose sighed, stepping forward, forcing Kit’s body to bend back uncomfortably. Kit’s head moved with Ambrose’s hand and Ambrose put more force on bending Kit’s wrist back. “If I let go you have to promise to be good.”

Kit pinched his lips together, but Ambrose didn’t let him. He squeezed Kit’s cheeks until his mouth formed a crude ‘o’ shape.

“Uhck-you agh!” Kit cried as Ambrose twisted his wrist further, tightening his grip until it turned bruising. Kit struggled and tried to back up, but his head hit the wall and he was trapped between Ambrose’s body and the wall.

“Oh-kay,” Kit managed, furious, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

Ambrose smiled, said, “good,” and true to his word Ambrose released him.

Kit’s head bobbed forward immediately, wrapping a hand around his wrist and rubbing it soothingly. Ambrose just went back to the kitchen, whistling, not even entertaining Kit’s glare following him. Kit got to his feet, the world tilting slightly as he stood but he ignored it going to the bathroom and slamming the door.

Angry red eyes found Kit’s in the bathroom mirror. Kit’s hand went out quick, too quick to think and the next thing he knew his fist had shattered the reflective glass. Broken shards fell onto the sink and the tile with a glimmering tinkle, so Kit punched the mirror again, and again.

He would have done it again, if he could, if it wasn’t for the cold rinse of Ambrose’s power flooding through his arm stopping his fist from punching the mirror until he broke his hand. Instead, Kit turned and opened the bathroom door against his will, stepping out into the living room to see Ambrose setting up Kit’s first aid on the table.

Kit’s feet dragged him to the table and forced him to sit and hold out his hand for Ambrose to inspect.

“I hate you,” Kit declared, a furious childish part of him wanted Ambrose to know that.

“I know Kit,” said Ambrose, taking his wrist delicately, the same wrist he had tried to fold in on itself not two minutes ago. “Seven years bad luck to break a mirror.”

“Fuck you,” Kit replied emotion colouring his voice. Ambrose’s touch was tender on his hand as he inspected it for damage. Shards of glass were sticking out of his hand that was steadily streaming blood onto the table.

“I’m going to have to take the glass out to bandage your hand,” said Ambrose, dark eyes dragging up to Kit’s face. Ambrose’s expression twisted into one of pity, as if he could actually feel human emotion and it somehow made Kit feel worse. Kit’s heart hammered against his throat as Ambrose reached over and wiped fresh tears from Kit’s cheeks. “It’s okay, Kit. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

Kit didn’t even realise he was crying until then. Frustrated, helpless tears were streaming sad and steady down his cheeks. “Please just let me go,” Kit whispered, half leaning it Ambrose’s hand. He couldn’t do this anymore. Ambrose sighed, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Kit’s cheeks.

“If you want, I can make you go to sleep while I do this?”

Kit sniffed, blubbering like an idiot. He didn’t want to be forced to sleep again, he hated that groggy feeling of waking up after it, completely unaware and vulnerable.

“No,” said Kit eventually. “No, I’ll stay awake.”

“Okay,” Ambrose cooed, drawing his hands back and going to the first aid kit to pull out tweezers and the disinfectant. “I’ll make sure you don’t feel a thing.”

True to his word, Kit didn’t feel anything as Ambrose worked. Not the disinfectant that would have stung. Not the glass being plucked out of his hand and onto the table. Not the bandage as it was tightened around his hand.

Ambrose moved with graceful fluidity, like this wasn’t his first time. Kit just watched him work in silence. If he imagined hard enough, he could be Superhero or Medic stitching him up after a fight with another villain. A friend looking after him telling Kit that he’s an idiot, and why did he punch a mirror. The thought made Kit’s heartache more than his hand would have.

“Okay,” said Ambrose with a smile, a genuine small happy smile. “You’re all done. How’s that feel?”

On Ambrose’s question, feeling flooded Kit’s body and he clenched his hand and opened it again. It was tight enough to hold and loose enough to have full range of motion.

“It feels good, thank you Ambrose.”

The words escaped Kit’s mouth before he registered what he said. Wide eyes went to Ambrose’s dark ones, but it wasn’t the smug pride he saw there. Ambrose smiled sympathetically at Kit and nodded.

“You’re welcome, Kit. How about you go get some sleep? I’ll clean all this up and we can go back to hating each other after.”

Kit nodded numbly. He was exhausted and deflated at his almost escape, he should have known Ambrose would have thought of everything Kit would do. The only way to defeat Ambrose properly would be to kill him and Kit knows he would never do that.

He couldn’t take someone’s life.

So, he stood and walked to his bedroom, shutting the door and collapsing onto his bed. Kit curled up under the covers and cried until he fell asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) — @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whatwhumpcomments @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @princess-bubble-blossom @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @mj-or-say10

*~*~*~*~*

Hello, it’s orphan this is a sneaky PS that I am in the process of moving my work here to a new, primary account @patchworkorphan because I stupidly made this blog a secondary one

I am uploading my backlog of posts to that new blog, updated and edited shocking!

Okay thank you for reading, have a good day, watch the late late toy show! It’s officially Christmas!! okay bye!

#intoxicating fear part vii #intoxicating fear #IF #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #villain #hero #writing #orphan writing #whump writing #whump #whump fic #hero whump #hero whumpee #villain whumper #hero villain whump #whumpblr #cruel whumper #sadistic whumper #sadistic villain #powerless hero #powerless whumpee #telepath villain #terrified hero x telepath villain #terrified hero #scared hero x telepath villain #scared hero #orphan

[favouritefearlesswhumper]

The shift from fighting a villain to fearing them is so good.

Where once, they looked at him with a distrustful glare, fists raised up, and fire stirring in their chest- now?

They fear him.

He places his hand on their face, strokes the side of it, and they tremble.

He pulls them close, presses them flush against him, and they shake.

He places a hand on their thigh. He rubs the skin there, slowly sliding his hand up higher and higher, and they whimper.

Sometimes he thinks about taking a photo of them, like this. The pathetic, fearful, mewling pet. He has pictures of them from before.

They will never go back to what they were.

And it's glorious.

#villain x hero #hero x villain #hero whumpee #hero whump #nsfwhump #kind of #implied noncon #whump #whump prompt #whumpee x whumper #whumper x whumpee #villain whumper #mine #mindbreak

[whumppromptoftheday]

whumpee being taken so villain has leverage over hero and hero ends up not caring that villain has them

#whumppromptoftheday #whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump writing #whumpee #hero whumper #villain whumper

[oliversrarebooks]

fuck you, I'm a goddamn menace: the truth is...

Prev > Masterlist

This came about as a result of the Choose Your Own Whump poll! The winners were:

secret underground facility

whumpee who is traumatized and hiding it badly

creepily intimate whumper

the corruption was infecting their thoughts, turning them against their allies

tw: restraints, beatings, physical and emotional abuse, drugging, needles, poison, truth serum, mind control

One year after the city's second-most notorious villain, the technomancer Morgan, was taken in by the hero team for medical treatment...

Morgan cracked his eyes open and immediately had to shut them again, blinded by obnoxiously bright lights.

He was woozy, barely awake, and his entire body hurt -- especially his right hand, which was throbbing with pain. It almost felt like some of his fingers had been broken, but he knew from experience that that would hurt far worse than this, unless...

The dreamlike haze slowing down his mind confirmed it. He was on some pretty strong painkillers. It was the sort of thing that would have sent him into a blind panic before, terrified of being incapacitated, but lately he'd been getting used to it. When he'd worked for Salcedo, the city's nastiest supervillain, he never received any form of painkillers, his boss far preferring to use his painful, torturous healing ability to re-injure Morgan and heal him back wrong again and again. A punishment for meeting his defeat at the hands of heroes, or looking at Salcedo wrong, or anything else the boss dreamed up.

That had all changed since he'd officially switched sides. No matter how badly he screwed up, no matter how much he irritated the shit out of the heroes, they always provided him with proper medical care, complete with ample medication. The feel of a hospital bed underneath him confirmed it: he must be in the heroes' infirmary, and that meant he could actually relax. 

He'd have to deal with Arthur, the team leader, and his unwanted concern and pity later, of course. That was absolutely a thorn in his side. He was definitely not looking forward to it.

Morgan shifted slightly, his wrists sore, and realized that he couldn't. He was restrained? And not with soft, comfortable restraints either, but hard metal ones. 

That couldn't be right. The hero team hadn't seen fit to restrain him in almost a year. He'd somehow managed to establish trust with them -- an uneasy, fragile trust, but trust nonetheless -- and he couldn't remember what he'd done to break that trust. The last thing he remembered was fighting his former boss at the city power plant, Arthur shouting his name... and then it all got blurry. He'd been injured, somehow, and he had a vague memory of collapsing into a dirty puddle with the sounds of the fight still raging around him.

He'd been fighting alongside the hero team, on a mission with them, taking out Salcedo's communications equipment and drones left and right. Why would they restrain him now, when he'd been helping them? He used his technomancy to feel out any nearby machines, and found it unresponsive. They'd used power suppressors, too.

The realization forced his eyelids to fly open, and as he adjusted to the painful light, an all-too-familiar ceiling swam into view. Harsh, bare, buzzing fluorescent lighting flickered too close to his face.

He wasn't in the heroes' infirmary at all. He wasn't even in a civilian hospital or a jail infirmary or a psychiatric ward. No, he was in Salcedo's lair, drugged and restrained. The first time he'd been captured since he'd betrayed his boss and started fighting by Arthur's side to stop his plans.

Oh, fuck.

The surge of adrenaline cleared his mind enough to think. Salcedo was going to torture him, that much was certain. Salcedo punished Morgan with beatings, starvation, and torture even for small mistakes -- one of the primary reasons Morgan had finally defected -- so he didn't even want to think about what his punishment for open betrayal would be. The fact that he was still alive at all could only mean that Salcedo was plotting something truly nasty.

Why was he drugged, though? The restraints and power suppressants had him entirely at Salcedo's mercy, and drugs were never a technique he had favored, since he didn't want Morgan's mind dulled to the pain and stress. Since he was already physically restrained, the only answer Morgan could come up with was that the drugs were necessary to compromise his mind. And that wasn't a comforting thought in the slightest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He would be rescued, wouldn't he? The hero team would definitely notice he was missing. They'd figure out what happened to him. He'd have to deal with Arthur's smug fucking face over rescuing his stupid ass again, but even that embarrassment was a vast improvement over whatever Salcedo had planned. There was no way Arthur would pass up the opportunity to preen and gloat over his heroism. He'd definitely go out of his way to rescue Morgan for that reason alone.

Unless he didn't.

Unless the hero team decided a half-reformed villain barely in control of his own powers wasn't worth it. Unless they were only putting up with him because it stopped him from being a nuisance. Unless they thought back on the things he'd done as a villain and decided he deserved whatever Salcedo had cooked up for him.

God fucking damn it.

He hated them sometimes. Hated their easy laughter and their camaraderie. Hated the way they awkwardly tried to include him in the group like a weird kid at recess. Hated Arthur's flawless smile, and his sickening dedication to doing the right thing, and how quick he was with a reassuring word, and how he worked so hard he had to practically be forced to rest --

Yeah, he hated them all, and they probably hated him too, and they'd be glad if Salcedo lobotomized him. He never should have defected in the first place. 

Morgan heard footsteps approaching the door, and shut his eyes again just as it opened. The sound of Salcedo's heavy combat boots approaching him was enough to send panic spiking through his heart, but he tried not to show it on his face, stubbornly pretending to be out still.

"I know you're awake, Morgan," said his former boss's deceptively smooth voice. "Don't embarrass yourself."

Morgan didn't twitch a muscle.

"You're a smart man. Or at least, I thought you were before you went and pulled this little stunt. The point is that you know very well where you stand right now."

So do whatever torture you came here to do and spare me your self-important monologuing, he thought. I'd rather have my fingernails pulled out than listen to you.

"You betrayed me, Morgan."

Here it comes.

"I gave everything to you. An unhappy teenager from an unhappy home, like so many others, but you were different from them, weren't you? You had potential. You had brains. And most of all, you had that wonderful little gift of a power. And I gave you everything. I trained you, I funded your lab and your inventions, I gave you food and a roof over your head. I forgave you for all of your many mistakes with only... sensible punishments." 

Morgan tried not to flinch as Salcedo got even closer.

"And yet, you betrayed me."

Morgan tensed for Salcedo's fist a moment before it connected with his cheek, pain blossoming from his shattered cheekbone. The pain was chased by a warm stinging feeling, Salcedo's healing power, before he was cracked across the face again. Breaking faces only to heal them and break them again was one of Salcedo's signature moves, and Morgan could almost tune out the familiar beating, especially since the painkillers dampened the sensation. His ears were ringing, and he knew he'd be severely concussed with his face swollen beyond recognition if it weren't for Salcedo healing him after each punch, allowing him to prolong the beating as long as he liked.

It was only when Salcedo slowed down and gave Morgan's mind enough time to recover from the assault that he finally decided to crack his eyes open. "Is that all?" he said, knowing that his fate was sealed whether or not he provoked the supervillain.

"That was just your punishment for the time you broke into headquarters and damaged some of my henchmen and equipment," he said. "Your punishment for betrayal hasn't even started yet."

"Hm, let me guess what it will be. Is it punching me in the face? Or maybe you want to mix it up a bit and punch me in the kidneys. Or get spicy and kick me in the --"

With no change in expression, Salcedo grabbed Morgan's injured hand and twisted, the bones audibly cracking. Morgan couldn't retain his straight face, and a sad little whimper escaped from his lips.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, allow me to explain exactly what is going to happen to you. Anticipation is half the fun, you know," he said, the sickening green light from his fingertips mending Morgan's bones back into place, a process almost as painful as the initial injury. He pulled a capped syringe full of a clear liquid from his pocket.

"If you're banking on me being scared of needles..." Morgan bluffed while internally screaming. He'd rather have the beating. At least those were predictable.

"Of course not. I'm banking on you being scared of what Marcy in the chemistry department has been cooking up since you've been gone." He tapped the side of the syringe. "It's not quite a mind control drug, but it's a good start -- a combination of potent truth serum that dulls your mind, and a sedative that makes you highly suggestible. The tests we've conducted on henchmen have been most amusing."

"...So what? A truth serum? You think the hero team trusts me with some secret information? They don't. And they have official protocol to change out the passcodes when anyone's captured, so you're not going to get anything useful."

"Oh, Morgan, don't worry your pretty little head. I'm not expecting you to be useful for your information. I have much better plans than that." 

Morgan's struggles were futile as Salcedo pushed the syringe into his arm and pushed the plunger. He didn't know what the fuck Salcedo thought he was going to accomplish with this and didn't want to find out, and he especially didn't want his mind put out of commission for any length of time. 

Salcedo's smug face was both infuriating and unreadable. What was his game? Morgan knew he had better figure it out before -- before --

-- before whatever was in that syringe shifted his mind out of gear. He pulled against the restraints again, shaking his head, as though it would somehow stop or slow the deep fog settling in over his mind. His eyelids grew heavy and lidded as he blinked slowly up at his wretched former boss, the intense sense of dread muffled as it became more difficult to think clearly.

"That looks to be kicking in nicely. I'm guessing you're ready to tell the truth now. Just let it all out," said Salcedo, grabbing his chin and looking into his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Morgan wanted to spit in his fucking face, but instead... "Groggy. Out of it. What the fuck is in that stuff?"

"It's a miracle drug, isn't it? That's why Marcy is a star employee and you're an also-ran. I only wish I could use this on Arthur. See what the city's shining hope really has buried deep down inside."

"There isn't anything buried," said Morgan before he can think twice. "He really is just that fucking heroic. Makes me sick. ...And jealous." He shook his head again, trying to could do anything to clear that uncomfortable fog. He had the dim feeling that he hadn't meant to say all of that, that the drug was working, but he didn't seem able to resist. The words came out before he could measure them.

"Is that so?" Salcedo chuckled. "Is that why you betrayed me?"

"No, I betrayed you because you're a fucking miserable sack of dicks who beats me for fun," said Morgan, fire cutting through the fog. "You think consequences will never apply to you, that there will never be any repercussions for treating your henchmen like shit smeared on your shoe. I can't wait until they all turn on you. I hope they kick your fucking teeth in."

"How charming," said Salcedo in a strained voice. "Now, I realize you can't help expressing your true feelings while you're high off that drug I gave you, so it would be unfair of me to punish you." 

Then he smashed his fist across Morgan's mouth, allowing Morgan to cough up a mouthful of blood before healing him.

"Listen to me, Morgan," said Salcedo, this time grabbing his face with more force and purpose. "You will listen to me, and you will absorb everything I have to say."

"No, no --" Morgan tried to pull himself free, but he'd always been physically much weaker than his boss, and the drug cocktail wasn't helping.

"You've always been a villain, haven't you? I found you and I molded you int a villain, one capable of terrorizing the city on so many occasions. Have you forgotten that?"

"No..."

"And you enjoyed yourself. You loved making your gadgets, you loved watching the civilians scream and cower. You loved the feeling of power and control. And you still love it."

"I... I do..." he said. He'd been fighting so hard to suppress all of that lately, to show the hero team he could be more than just a villain, that he could do something helpful for a change... but deep down inside, a part of him missed laughing maniacally while riding some mechanical monstrosity through the city.

The truth was, heroics was fucking hard. Civilians were unpredictable and frequently ungrateful, and with the hero team, he was no longer allowed to blow them off and make them someone else's problem. He had to work had. He had to care.

"That's right, Morgan, you miss being a villain." Salcedo's voice was like a snake tightening around its prey. "It's all you were ever good for. It's all you'll ever be good for."

That was exactly what Morgan often felt late at night, in his bunk in the heroes' headquarters, wondering what the fuck he was doing there and how long it could last. "I'm..."

"It's all you'll ever be good for," said Salcedo with more force, letting it sink into Morgan's compromised brain.

"It's all I'll ever be good for," he repeated in a dull voice, resistance crumbling. 

"You hate trying to be a hero. It's too hard. You're awful at it. You're tired, and you want to give up. You want to give in."

He really was so, so tired. "I want... I want to give up..."

"You hate working with the hero team," Salcedo hissed in his ear. "You're jealous of them, aren't you? How they're praised and fawned over while you rot in the shadows, fighting for the smallest scraps of recognition. How they don't trust you."

"I..." A memory flashed through his mind. Arthur convincing him to join in on the team's horror movie night. Julie, the youngest, screaming, while Toshiro criticized the effects. Laughing, eating popcorn, forgetting for a moment who and what he was.

He couldn't forget for long. He could see it in their eyes, in their hesitance, how fragile the trust was.

"You'll never be one of them. They'll never trust you. You're a villain, and that's all you'll ever be."

It was true, wasn't it? They would never trust him. He'd escaped Salcedo, only to spend his time scraping and clawing to get the hero team's trust. Fighting to be something he wasn't, when he knew, he knew, he'd never be good enough for them.

And this was the proof, wasn't it? They weren't coming to rescue him. No one was coming to rescue him.

"You hate them, Morgan. I know you do. You hate them more than anything."

"I... I hate..." The corrupting voice was twisting his thoughts, making it hard to think anything but what he was told.

"That's right," he coaxed. "You hate them. And you hate Arthur most of all."

Arthur. That's right, he hated Arthur. Arthur with his perfect smile. Arthur with his words of encouragement. Arthur telling Morgan that he believed in him, believed he could be something better, as though he had any right. 

Arthur, who probably knew by now that he was wrong, that Morgan was no better than any other villain, who wouldn't be lifting a finger to rescue him from the trap he'd inevitably found himself in.

"You hate Arthur," Salcedo insisted.

"I..."

It should be so easy. It was the truth: he did hate Arthur. And he hadn't been able to resist the serum up until now. Why was he choking on these words?

"You. Hate. Arthur."

"Of course I don't hate you," said Arthur, once, on a quiet, moonlit night, sitting on top of a building, guarding a museum from an impending heist. "You're a clever guy and a hard worker, and you can do the right thing when it really matters. And the villainy? I'm not saying it's okay, because it definitely wasn't, but I get where it comes from. I do. Any of us powered people could've gone down the same path."

"I don't," said Morgan under his breath.

"What was that?"

Morgan's voice caught again. He did hate Arthur. Hated how much he wished he could see Arthur's dumb fucking face as he kicked down the door. Hated how much he wanted to be in the heroes' infirmary, with Arthur checking up on him and delivering a snack or book of puzzles, instead of here.

He hated how Arthur made him want to be something more than just a villain, and how fucking hard it was, all the time.

"I don't hate Arthur," Morgan said more clearly, unable to stop it. "I want to hate him, because it'd make everything so much easier, but I don't. I can't."

Salcedo recoiled in disbelief, a look of shock and disgust on his face. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You can't be fucking serious. He hates you, you know. He's foiled your plans so many times --"

"He doesn't hate me," said Morgan with more confidence. "He said it himself, every time I asked him. And he doesn't fuck around with that kind of thing. If he says it, he means it. It's infuriating."

"Fucking hell. I suspected, but --" Salcedo grabbed Morgan by the front of his flimsy medical gown, pulling him close enough that he could feel hot breath on his face. "Are you in love with him?!"

Morgan froze.

No. Fuck no. That's what he wanted to say. No, obviously not.

But he couldn't.

His head pounded.

"I don't know."

"You. Don't. Know?" Salcedo screamed in his face.

"I don't know!" The fog in his head was so thick, making it impossible for him to think through his words. "I don't know how I feel about him -- or about anything -- or if I'm even capable of --"

Salcedo grabbed his head and slammed it against the medical bed, sending his ears ringing. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! The one fucking thing I wanted you for, the one fucking thing you were going to be good at and you can't even do that right -- what kind of useless, idiot villain can't even hate the man who beats him into the ground once a week --" His laugh was harsh and bitter. "Oh hell, maybe you actually like that. I bet you do. Fucking little freak."

Morgan ignored the insult, trying to push aside the insinuations that he really, really didn't want to think about in this state. Salcedo had wanted him for something. There was a point to all of this apart from psychological torment. He tried to grasp that thought with his slippery mind, recognizing its importance. "What were you going to have me do?"

"Be a sleeper agent. Stoke the fires of hatred within you. Let the hero team rescue you, pretend everything was normal, and then when their guards were down, kill them all."

His chest tightened. "No -- I don't want to -- I won't!"

"Oh, it's beyond obvious you won't. I can see that now. You're not only useless, you're fucking delusional. So it's on to plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Remember these?" Salcedo held up a glass vial. Tiny, iridescent insects were flitting around inside, crawling up the glass and bumping against the lid.

Morgan surged forward in the restraints. "My babies!" he said, in the tone of someone reuniting with a long lost pet. He certainly did remember them -- his mechanical mosquitoes, one of his favorite inventions, which he'd had to leave behind during his semi-involuntary heroic turn. These small drones were easy for Morgan to control with his technological powers. They could be used for surveillance or distraction, equipped with tiny tools, or used to inject small amounts of potent drugs, incapacitating enemies and guards with sedatives or hallucinogens. On one memorable occasion, he'd laced them with the common cold, ensuring that the heroes would stay home while he raided the semiconductor factory. Good memories.

"They're my 'babies' now, I'm afraid," said Salcedo, pulling the vial further out of reach. "It took a while to override your protocols and reprogram them, but I think the effect will be worth it. You always used them for disgustingly non-lethal purposes. I've always wanted to change that."

He shrank back, not liking where this was going. 

"They're fitted with a potent and especially painful neurotoxin, but they won't sting you immediately. No, they're programmed to hide in your clothing until disturbed. When Arthur comes to save you, that's when you'll get the privilege of watching his excruciating death, knowing he died in agony trying to save you."

"No, no, there's no way. He's not even going to come save me, you know, he's --"

"Oh, you fool. He's already on his way." Salcedo shoved a gag into Morgan's mouth, clasping it firmly shut. "Don't want you warning him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important business." He opened the vial, and the little mosquito drones flew out and nestled in Morgan's medical gown, in the restraints, even in his hair. With his power suppressed, he was helpless to control them. He could only watch as Salcedo left the room.

Morgan screamed through the gag, accomplishing nothing but straining his throat. He had to come up with some sort of plan, but his head was swimming from stress and drugs and he couldn't hold on to any one thought long enough to formulate a strategy. 

It didn't matter. Salcedo was wrong. No one was coming to rescue him.

...He must be imagining the sounds of a fight, drawing closer...

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[whumpsoda]

May I suggest a whumper who puts spells on his whumpee’s or hypnotizes them or smth to believe that they’re all a happy traditional family. Whumpee’s all think this is completely normal—even the family dog which used to be whumper’s most resistant captive.

Sorry this took so long… I just had to do this prompt, it’s too good! I hope I did it justice :3

cw: brainwashing, pet whump, multiple whumpees, lady whumpee, captivity

———————————————————————

Villain loved his family. 

Some would never believe him, most prominent due to the means of which he sourced said family, but really, he did love them. Cared for them, even.

“Movie! Movie! Movie!” Youngest squealed, just like the child he believed himself to be, swinging his feet excitedly on the couch. Adorned in his favorite pajamas, bright pink and far too small, he waited for the rest of his family to join him in the living room. One hand was wrapped around a gigantic bowl of delicious smelling and steaming popcorn, the other ruffling through the grease coated hair of his pet.

Hero, with his chin placed atop his former partner’s lap, held a dopey smile and glassy eyes as his scalp was softly scritched at. He shivered with delight, nearly drooling over the blissful touch and smell of food he wasn’t allowed to eat. Villain couldn’t help but wish he had a camera ready to capture such a mind bogglingly satisfying image.

“Watch out!” Medic- or, the former medic, now Villain’s partner- exclaimed, a sweet grin strung across her lips. “Puppy over there is waiting for you to drop something!”

Youngest only chuckled, cheerfully ruffling Hero’s hair. Gleefully, Hero giggled, leaning into the pleasant touch. “Come on, come on! I wanna start the TV!”

“Okay, okay!” Villain yelled back, smiling from ear to ear, watching as Youngest and Hero’s faces both lit up upon seeing their former enemy enter the room. Hero eagerly crawled over to meet him, nuzzling and stroking his face over the fabric of the other man’s pant leg.

Almost, Villain wanted to laugh. His plans and wishes had come perfectly true. His toughest foe and captive, reduced to that of a mere dog. Yearning only for cuddles and treats, too stupid to understand the world around him. No more fight, no more irritating quips, no more screaming, no more Hero. 

The thought made Villain positively giddy. 

Villain searched into his back pocket, holding out and dangling a bone shaped dog treat between two fingers. Hero brightened, sitting up sloppily. “Paw.” Villain instructed, shaking Hero by the hand and dropping the reward between the man’s teeth, right onto his panting tongue. “Good boy!”

“Dad, come on! Come on! Mom!” Youngest called, kicking his feet still, but now in impatient anticipation. 

“I told you, I’m coming!” Medic entered, hair put up into a lazy bun with a plush robe tied around her waist. “I was just grabbing a drink, baby.” She placed a quick peck to the lanky man’s forehead, before adjusting the vibrantly pink clips scattered about his hair.

Youngest’s face flushed, giggling. “Dad, c’mere!”

“Come on, puppy.” Gifting Hero a few pats to the head, Villain gestured him along to the couch before plopping down beside his partner. He hooked his arm around Medic, pushing her head to sit upon his shoulder.

Sometimes, he secretly wished she’d give him little kisses just as she did Youngest. He’d never felt such tender contact before, and most likely never would.

Following example, Hero hopped onto a cushion beside youngest, getting prepared to curl up beside the man in his eyes he deemed as a young child before Medic pointed to him with disapproval. “No.” She scolded. “No dogs on the furniture.”

With a frown he climbed back down on all fours, disappointedly furling into a ball at their feet. Villain watched in satisfaction, bending down a moment later to pat the whining man’s head. 

All the while Youngest fiddled with the remote, just until he managed to get the television turned on. A moment later the screen switched to life, instantly the sounds of a newscast filling the group’s ears.

No.

“Hey,” Villain started, reaching around to take the remote for himself.

He couldn’t let them see anything they weren’t supposed to. Anything that could pull them from their brainwashing, even by the slightest bit. Youngest wrenched it away, barely taking notice, instead captivated by something dancing upon the screen.

The criminal’s heart skipped a beat. That something, just so happened to be himself.

Videos, pictures, recordings, even, of the three’s heroics blared across the screen, regular civilians that worshipped the group pleading for the team back. Other heros as well, begging for their friends and comrades to be found.

Villain clamored for the remote desperately, chest beating with a spark of adrenaline. All three of the other family members were fixed on the TV, brows furrowed as their minds twisted blank, refusing and yet fighting to digest what they were watching.

“Youngest! Give me the remote!” Villain shouted, the other man still refusing to give it up with an iron grip.

Oh, no, no, no, no-

“That’s…” Youngest mumbled, brain gradually working to achieve comprehension.

Medic’s expression was twisted in befuddlement alongside him, frozen rigid in place. “I don’t… understand…”

Please, no-

“Nngh…!” Hero whimpered, shrinking back with fearful puzzlement.

Villain couldn’t fail. Not then, and not ever. He couldn’t let them break free from their conditioning, couldn't allow them to remember, and most of all couldn’t afford to lose them. He’d never had such a loving, happy family, let alone a group of people he cherished so shockingly dearly, and he wouldn’t let his hard work go to waste so easily.

Finally, some button was switched that successfully flicked the screen, turning it to whatever else was showing at the moment. Still shaking, Villain sighed in relief as the other three blinked out from their trance, minds easing and carefully returning with his control still strict in place.

Medic sputtered in confusion. “What… um, sorry…” she mumbled, turning to her partner for an answer. He couldn’t let her know. He couldn’t let her realize, or she would hate him again-

“Momma, my head hurts.” Youngest whined, gripping the sides of his head and dropping into her lap. He scrunched the muscles of his face in an attempt to clear his head.

Still in that of a hazy daze, Medic’s vision still unfocused glazed over, she stumbled over her words. “Mine, um, mine.. too…”

Hero rubbed against her leg in dreaded distress, croaking whimpers scratching from his throat. He clawed the walls of his mind, shoving himself back down in favor of the brainwashing.

“Everything’s alright! Let’s just watch the movie, okay?” Villain brushed them off, trembling, quickly setting up the program correctly this time as the rest of his companions were plagued by bitter affliction. Anything to distract them.

Everything was alright. Everything was fine. He’d caught it just in time, and they weren’t going to remember. They weren’t going to leave him, because he wouldn’t let them.

Not like everybody else. This was different. Villain loved his family, and they loved him.

Didn’t they?

———————————————————————

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#asks :) #Writing #my writing #whump writing #whump #whumpblr #brainwashing whump #hypnosis whump #brainwashing #hypnosis #hypnotized whumpee #brainwashed whumpee #captivity whump #captivity #villain whumper #hero villain whump #hero whumpee #hero villain writing #hero #villain #medic #youngest

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Countdown

"Villain, please-" Hero started.

"I told you not to try anything, and what did you do as soon as my back was turned? You realize you could've gotten hurt pulling a stunt like that?"

"I wouldn't have had to pull the stunt if you weren't holding me prisoner!"

"Prisoner?" Villain scoffed, "I've given you everything you could ever want, but if you insist you're a prisoner..."

Villain's expression darkened. They pulled a syringe from their pocket and approached Hero.

"I may as well treat you like one."

Hero scurried back on the bed, but Villain was quicker. They instantly jammed the syringe into Hero's skin, letting the contents flood their system. Hero's body began to feel numb and fuzzy. They collapsed on the bed, unable to hold themselves up.

"P-please-"

"The time for begging is over," Villain said, "here's what's going to happen. We're going to count down from five. I'll start us off. Five..."

Villain produced a roll of heavy-duty tape and began to wrap it around Hero, pinning their limbs together.

"Villain, wait!"

Villain ignored them. They stuffed squeezeballs in Hero's hands, then taped them up into useless stumps. They wrapped the rest of their body up, to the point that not an inch of them was visible below their neck. They then fetched a shiny, industrial black bag. The inside was coated with adhesive. They stuffed Hero inside, ignoring their protests, and vacuum sealed them in.

"Four..."

Villain shoved a squeezeball into Hero's mouth, holding it shut and smearing a strong adhesive over their lips. They then wrapped several layers of tape around their head, over their lips.

"Mm!!"

"Three..."

Villain wrapped more tape over Hero's eyes and the rest of their head. The only thing that wasn't covered was their nose.

"Mmph! Mm!"

"Shh," Villain cooed, "we're not done yet. Two..."

Villain shoved earplugs into Hero's ears, then snapped noise-canceling headphones over them as well.

"One."

They placed an oxygen mask over Hero's nose, that would keep a steady supply of the numbing drug in their system.

"Some time like this should teach you to behave," Villain said, not that Hero could hear them.

Villain left Hero's room and set about putting more security measures in place should their Hero make another escape attempt. Though Villain doubted they would after today. Meanwhile, Hero's muffled screams could barely be heard from their room.

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#writeblr #writing #whump #creative writing #snippet #hero x villain #heroes and villains #drugging #captivity #sensory deprivation #countdown #needles #yandere villain #if you squint #hero whumpee #villain whumper

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 1

1. (Jan 01-02) Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed

cw physical whump/injury, whumper turned caretaker, captive whumpee 

Villain glowered at the struggling captive at their feet. “Well, isn’t this something. When Supervillain said they had a present for me, I was shocked enough as it was. Imagine my surprise when I found out they had managed to capture the pesky little snitch who’s been mucking up all my plans. Selling my information to Superhero and almost getting me caught at that jewel heist last week.” 

A weak noise of protest came from their enemy, likely muffled behind a gag. There was a cloth bag over their head, concealing their identity, and their hands were bound behind their back. It was an exhilarating sight to finally have them kneeling at Villain’s feet, completely at their mercy. 

“What was that?” Villain taunted when they attempted to talk around the gag. “You’ll have to speak up, sweetheart. I’m busy thinking of all the fun I'm going to have with you.” 

They kicked the hero sharply in the side, knocking them onto the ground. With their hands tied behind their back, they had no way of catching themself and their head smacked into the concrete, followed by a choked noise of pain. The hero curled in on themself when Villain’s foot connected with their stomach. It felt so unbelievably good to finally let out their anger on this nuisance who had been giving them so much trouble. 

Villain knelt beside them, grabbing onto the hood that concealed their enemy’s identity. “Now,” they drawled, “let’s see who’s under here. I want to see the fear in your eyes and watch you cry while I teach you a lesson.” 

They pulled the hood off and felt their blood run cold. A familiar pair of eyes blinked up at them, teary and full of betrayal. “Hero?” they asked in disbelief. 

Hero whined, flinching away when Villain hurried to remove the gag. There was a nasty bruise forming on one cheekbone and dried blood under their nose—clearly Supervillain had already had a turn with them before dropping them off at Villain’s lair. 

“Oh my god, Hero, I’m so sorry,” they apologized, hands shaking as they helped the other sit up. Thank God Villain hadn’t gotten any farther. “What’s going on?” 

Hero sniffed, looking up at Villain with a mix of hurt and anger. “You were about to beat the fuck out of me, that’s what’s going on.” 

“No—no, I…” Villain focused on untying Hero’s hands—if they ended up punching Villain once they were free, well, Villain knew they deserved it. “Supervillain told me they had caught the person who’d been selling me out to Superhero. I—I had no idea who they were bringing me.” 

“Supervillain is a filthy liar and an opportunist, don’t you know that by now?” Hero said, rubbing their wrists once Villain finally undid the rope. They hissed in pain, glaring at the angry red marks on their skin. 

Villain pushed their hair back gently, inspecting for damage where Hero’s head had hit the ground. Luckily, it didn’t look too bad—they'd probably just be sore for a bit. “So you’re not the one who’s been selling my info?” 

“You think I would?” Hero asked earnestly, meeting the other’s gaze. “Of course it wasn’t me. It was Supervillain, you idiot.” 

Suddenly, the pieces all fell into place. Fuck, it was all so obvious—Villain really was an idiot, weren’t they? “They were trying to frame you—shift the blame off themself and get me to take you out at the same time.” 

“Two birds,” Hero agreed. 

“I’m going to kill them,” Villain growled, eyes darkening with rage. “I’m going to torture them slowly until they’re begging for my forgiveness and then I'm going to kill them.” 

Hero smirked and punched their arm halfheartedly. “I told you no killing, remember?” 

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” Villain sighed melodramatically. “…Is a little torture okay, though?” 

Hero rolled their eyes. “A tiny bit, I suppose. But can you take me home first? I’m so tired.” 

Villain frowned, cradling Hero’s face in their hands. “Yeah, of course,” they said, more quietly. “I'll take you home, and get you cleaned up and tucked into bed. I’m sorry about all this.” 

“Thank you.” They let Villain pull them into an embrace without protest. “Just make sure to give Supervillain my regards.” 

“Anything for you, Hero.” 

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno1 #captivity #secret revealed #hero x villain #whump #whump writing #physical whump #injury whump #whumper turned caretaker #accidental whump #captive whumpee #hero whumpee #villain whumper #villain caretaker #snippet