#avvail

[avvail]

prompt #106

“I told you to trust me,” the villain murmurs raggedly against their lips, a desperate plea lost in their flesh. “Did I not? This is fine. We’re fine, just kiss me.”

[avvail-whumps]

ok so i just saw the prompt that you reblogged on your other account and.. i was wondering if you ever had the time would you write something about a hypnotized whumpee?

content warnings: intimate whumper, hypnosis, conditioned whumpee, non-con touching (not explicit), mentioned non-con (not explicit)

“Aren’t they just so pretty?”

The caretaker says nothings. It’s obvious by the grim expression on their face that they don’t particularly want to encourage the whumper’s behaviour.

The last time they had seen the whumpee, they had been kicking and screaming. Putting up a fuss any chance they got, making life as difficult as they could for their captor. They had this fire in their eyes that didn’t seem to be dying out any time soon.

But now?

They’d almost been surprised by the quietness of the house. The whumper would usually have them restrained in some way, and they’d be writhing and kicking up a fuss, making lots of angry noises.

Instead, they observed their quiet, stiff form on the sofa. There was something eerie about their eyes; blank, unfocused, hardly even blinking. Even when the whumper carded a hand through their head, there wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on their face.

The caretaker was in awe at how complacent they were being.

“What did you do?” They find themselves asking absentmindedly, unable to tear their eyes away. Because they are genuinely shocked.

The whumper hums softly under their breath, scraping the hair away from the whumpee’s forehead. They’re devoid of usual cuts and bruises - the caretaker wonders how long they’ve been like this.

“I tried a new method,” the whumper answers vaguely, steely eyes staring into theirs. “This way, I can’t get bored.”

The caretaker doesn’t realise their confusion flickers in their expression, but the whumper notices it, as observant as they are. They gently run a finger under the whumpee’s chin, who still has that blank, half lidded gaze. Like a China doll.

“If I want them to be an eager little thing that serves to please me, then I can make it happen with just one word,” they hum, snapping their fingers in front of the whumpee’s face, as if to prove a point. They don’t even blink. “I like it when they put a fight, too, but too much noise, and I can simply admire them like this.”

They tilt the whumpee’s head back, just enough to admire their slack expression. “Isn’t it perfect?”

The caretaker’s mind swims. “So, you hypnotized them?”

A cruel smile appears on their face, squeezing the whumpee’s shoulders.

“Yes,” they answer. “Yes, I did.”

They slowly nod. That explained the sudden change, but seeing the whumpee like this, so dazed and so relaxed, they can’t help but shudder. There’s something really eerie about it. That the whumper holds their mind in their palm of their hand, triggered only by simple words.

“Was it hard?” They find themselves asking. The whumper smiles.

“They’re a stubborn thing,” they chuckle, tilting their head. “You know that. But I can programme them to do whatever you or I want.” Their voice drops dangerously. “You can take them to the spare room, if you really want.”

The caretaker immediately cringes, and they shake their head. They feel more disgust towards the whumper than ever before, and they don’t want to imagine what the poor whumpee’s been through already. If they remember it...

“No, thank you,” they grumble. The blank stare is unnerving them. “I’ll pass.”

The whumper chuckles, still running their fingers through the whumpee’s hair. They stop to observe their face, before a crooked smirk spreads across their lips. They tap their nose gently, cupping their cheeks as though they would with a lover. The whumpee does nothing back.

“Your loss.”

[avvail]

prompt #94

“I’m not really into cliché’s,” the villain, once who the hero thought they could call a friend, hummed under their breath, lip teasing up into a smirk. “So let’s skip the whole ‘join me’ speech, shall we?”

The hero felt the tip of the sword dig into their throat, and they could barely even meet the villain’s eyes. All along, they had never been on their side.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The villain’s brow quirks. “Oh, baby. Maybe I should’ve given you the speech - I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to skip straight to the part where I drag you from here, kicking and screaming, and make you join my side whether you like it or not. I have always been more acquainted with actions rather than words, after all.”

[avvail]

a villain that can hypnotise people through touch

The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.

“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.

“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”

“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”

The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”

“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”

The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.

“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”

The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.

“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”

“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”

“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”

The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”

“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”

The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”

“Then I come to you.”

“Stay away.”

The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.

“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”

“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.

“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”

It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.

“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

The hero obediently follows them along.

[avvail]

prompt #101

The villain’s fingers closed around the sidekick’s throat, digging so hard into the skin, it was already blooming with red marks. They gasped, choking and grappling uselessly at their wrist, but nothing was working. The hero shakily lifted themselves onto their knees, tongue spitting out words before they could stop themselves.

“Stop!” They blurted, their voice shaking. The sidekick’s eyes were wide with terror. “Stop it, just–just let them go. Let go of them. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The villain calmly turned their head towards them. The sidekick squeaked when their grip tightened in a cruel, almost mocking gesture. “And what would that be?”

The hero released a shuddering breath. Their pleading eyes met the villain’s, relaxed and unbothered. Their lips quivered.

“Me?” They breathed.

With the way the villain’s lip twitched into a knowing smirk, the hero knew they had given the right answer.

[avvail]

prompt #102

“It must be suffocating,” the villain hummed, a fine whisper on their tongue and their fingers dancing a waltz through their hair. Soft strands curled around their finger, an absentminded and thoughtless movement.

They leaned down to kiss their temple, a chaste little thing that barely stirred the hero awake. Tucked against them as though they were lovers, as though this wasn’t a dangerously deceptive painting of their relationship.

“But that’s okay,” they whispered, patting the hero’s cheek. “I’ll take you away. From everything.”

[avvail]

prompt #105

“I know you can do good,” the hero’s sidekick gently assured, their voice laced full of gentle encouragement. They playfully nudge the villain’s sidekick’s shoulder, their eyes gleaming with care. With hope. “I’ve seen the way you try and help people. I know you’re capable of it”

The villain’s sidekick barely managed a tight smile across their miserable face, glancing at them fondly. “Collateral damage is more your thing, after all.”

They laugh, their head tilting as they placed a gentle hand on their shoulder. “I know you can do it. You’re my best friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The villain’s sidekick’s smile slowly fades, and a melancholy look gradually fades back into their face. They turn away, their shoulders heaving with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” they assure. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“No, I mean,” they murmur, and the other sidekick’s blood runs cold as the metal of a muzzle digs into the back of their head, and they hear a sharp click. “I really am sorry.”

[avvail]

poison/venom for bingo event?

The hero only knew something was wrong halfway through the fight.

They’d kept up with the supervillain’s unpredictable fighting style, dodging and twisting and countering when they needed to. They had trained to adapt; this was no different. The file on the supervillain was a constant reminder in the back of their mind.

But the hero, just a little too late, realised something was wrong.

The scratch marks on the flesh of their arm stung, the muscles twitching occasionally. It might not have meant anything if they weren’t starting to lose feelings, a tingling, odd numbness weighing them down. Each new dodge became sluggish, a hairs breath away from another slash. Their knees wobbled every time they tried to right themselves.

The hero blinked through spots in their vision. There was even an uncomfortably clammy sweat building up at the base of their neck, tingling through to their fingers.

“Something wrong?”

The supervillain’s voice lilted with a twinge of knowing smugness, and the hero grit their teeth. If they could think of a witty remark, it’d be firing off the end of their tongue like a snake. But they couldn’t. Not only was their tongue too thick, but their mind was fogging over. The supervillain wasn’t even attacking, now. They just stood there, head tilted, mischievous glint in their eye.

The hero’s feet staggered against the concrete, until they’re sure they got all twisted up, and they thudded to the ground with a moan of pain.

“What is…?” Their throat tightened, feeling a throbbing pain shoot through their limbs. The heat increased like an inferno through their body, and they grit their teeth, fingers scrabbling against the ground. This wasn’t in the file. The supervillain didn’t care to work with others, so they knew this fight was just between the two of them.

They felt the air rush out of their lungs at another throbbing spell.

Through squinted eyes, they watched the supervillain dust off their hands casually. As though the fight hadn’t even inconvenienced them. Sweat beaded across their flushed forehead.

“Is this—”

“Venom?” A smile broke out across their face. “Clever.”

The hero’s fingers twisted into their shirt. They were struggling to breathe, the pain winding through their bones and squeezing their organs.

“How?”

“Are you confused because it wasn’t part of your files?” The supervillain cooed, and they leisurely picked some blood out from under their nails. The hero’s blood. “The Agency hasn’t changed, I see. It’s almost as though they want you to fail.”

The hero’s knees scraped across the ground, in some feeble attempt to crawl away. A sharp kick delivered to their ribs sent them sprawling, a cough choking in their throat. They immediately curled into a tight ball, the pain now so vibrant through their body they couldn’t tell up from down. Footsteps prowled closer to them, the supervillain crouching over them with dissecting eyes. They pulled something out of their jacket, glimmering under the lamp post.

The hero’s unfocused eyes only just managed to catch a glimpse of what it was. A vial.

The supervillain smiled. “Antidote.”

The hero lunged with the last of their strength, but the supervillain easily manoeuvred away from their clumsy efforts. It only resulted in a bruise on their chin from clipping the floor.

“It’s getting harder to breathe, isn’t it?” Their murmur send shivers down their spine, and if they’re voice commanded it, the hero felt their lungs tighten. They wheezed, mouth parting to desperately suck in as much air as they could. It was crippling; not just the pain, but the fear. If they didn’t get that antidote, then they were going to die.

“I need you alive, though,” the supervillain sighed, shaking the vial of liquid enticingly. “I want information. You can probably see where I’m going with this.”

The antidote, for information. The deal warred in the hero’s mind, the or else a stabbing dilemma in their mind. Another wave of pain wracked through their body, their nose wrinkling in response. The supervillain admired that look, even tapped their nose with a smile.

“So?” They prompted. “Better answer quickly.”

The hero opened their mouth to speak, but could say nothing. So instead, they frantically nodded their head. Once their mind was clear, once the threat of this crippling venom was gone, the hero could think about this stategically. Leaking information about the Agency, or whatever it was the supervillain wanted, was a rabbit hole they were unwilling to go down.

Happy with their agreeable nature, the supervillain popped the lid off the vial. The hero’s mouth watered, their chin jutting up, watching as the supervillain leaned down, and tipped the liquid onto the floor.

Their blood ran cold.

“The venom will take about an hour to kill you,” the supervillain sighed, a horrid glint in their eye. “That gives us plenty of time for a chat first. Don’t you think?”

@badthingshappenbingo