Whumpees whose powers/magic are so integral to them that that blocking the abilities is like blocking their breathing. The same power-dampening tech or anti-magic that weakens others will kill them within hours.
What happens if they are captured? Do they desperately explain that the standard protocol isn’t going to work, and promise to obey without it? Are they sedated? Restrained more tightly in other ways? More importantly, are they even believed?
And if the dampener is activated, how long does it take their captors to realize that the whumpee wasn’t lying?
thinking about hierarchical whump in a superhero setting. like, all superheroes are government property, they all go through the same grueling training, and they can expect to have very little autonomy for their entire lives. and obviously beating down on a civilian would get them arrested (or worse), and fighting villains just gets so monotonous sometimes...
so much abuse that could happen behind closed doors. the world is your oyster.
whump scenario - "I had nowhere else to go" (UNO REVERSE edition)
So I know that "villain turns up on hero's doorstep / in their apartment /etc. because they have "nowhere else to go"" is kind of a common trope, but I really really really want to see more of the reverse. A hero who is badly hurt, maybe even on the run from the organization they work(ed) for, and goes to the villain for shelter.
Imagine the possibilities...
The villain is just chilling in their evil lair and their security system goes off. They get all dressed up in their regalia and go outside to face the threat, only to see the hero leaning against a tree / the wall / whatever, gripping their side, blood soaking through their uniform, face pale.
Or, alternatively, they look on the cameras and see nothing. Sighing, rolling their eyes about how they really need to fine-tune the settings so it stops alerting at animals, they go outside (potentially prepared to gain another snack for their pet) and instead see hero crumpled in a heap. (Bonus if the hero was flying into the villain's airspace and crash-landed / was zapped out of the sky by the villain's defenses.)
Maybe the villain's pet Creature perks up its nose and dives into the bushes. The villain runs after them, cursing, since "I thought you knew better than to chase squirrels!!" only to find their pet pawing at (or even attempting to gnaw on) the hero's body. (Dragging them by the cape like Krypto in Superman….)
Or maybe the hero lands on the balcony of the villain's Evil Penthouse in the city. Or stumbles up the drive of their looming mansion in the countryside.
Maybe the villain saw them approaching from a distance and disabled their security / called off their goons, preparing a trap. The door opens and they're ready to burst into an evil monologue as the hero walks in, but then the hero just… crumples.
Imagine the last thing the hero says as they lose consciousness is a quiet "You were right." The villain would ordinarily be gloating, but they can't seem to find any joy in that idea. After all, what's the point in changing someone's mind if they just die right away? No. There's no satisfaction there.
The vulnerability of delirium, too. Accidentally revealing top-secret plans, or letting on that their bosses/organization they work for have hurt them. Hero babbling "Don't take me back there, please!"
Maybe they were shot with some kind of anti-power poison (because of course the organization that collects super heroes would know how to stop them).
Imagine the "good guys" showing up at the villain's place and demanding they return their "kidnapped" operative. Offering a ransom. Villain listens to the recording and stares at the sleeping form on their bed, and wonders what the hero did to make their former employers want them so badly.
Villain defending their home (and the hero) with everything they had. Maybe hero shows up at the last minute to help them, too.
Maybe the hero wakes up with the villain's cat (or other pet creature) on their chest. Or they wake up alone in an unfamiliar place and go wandering, catching glimpses of the villain's private life until they finally come across the villain in another room. ("Finally. I was starting to wonder if I would have to feed you to the sharks." "Sharks? Aren't we in the middle of the city?" "That was a joke, hero.")
Maybe the villain's residence is a lot less impressive than the hero was expecting. Their "secret bunker" is little more than a couple of rooms.
The hero getting to see what the villain is like behind the mask. There are photos of their loved ones on the wall. ("What happened to them?" "What happened? Nothing. My mother was just here last Sunday for tea. My dad's dead though. Fucking lung cancer of all things. Man smoked a pack a day.") Their cat is a huge cuddle-bug, and the living room has more cat toys than people furniture. Their MASSIVE dog sleeps on the bed and licks your face. Their library is filled with romcoms. They have a huge collection of 80s music. There's an entire room full of arcade games. They collect abstract art. Their fridge is covered in tacky gas station travel magnets. They sing and dance (badly) while they cook. ("Yes, of course I cook for myself. You think I can afford to hire staff? In this economy?? Besides, what's to stop your precious Organization from sending plants? And I can't exactly put out an ad in the papers, can I?")
Hero approached Superhero's office in the facility, stepping nervously towards the door. Small flurries began to pick up around them before Hero noticed and shooed them away.
Relax, they thought. It's just a standard check-in on your progress. You've captured plenty of criminals to satisfy them. It'll be fine.
Of course, they hadn't captured Villain. Superhero had tasked Hero with bringing them to justice, taking them out if they had to. Hero had taken them out...to dinners and movies and coffee shops, discretely as possible in their civilian personas. After all, Villain wasn't evil. They were just "allergic to the rules", as they liked to say.
Hero admired that about Villain. They were one of the few who knew the people Villain robbed usually deserved it, with the funds stolen turning into anonymous donations to local charities and organizations. Hero tried to help in their own way, taking down smaller criminals and protecting civilians in danger of being hurt or abused, but they were honor bound to their code. They could never be free to act outside of it.
"Why don't you join me?" Villain had asked one day. "We're basically on the same side. And it would be a treat to fight alongside you instead of against you."
"I can't," Hero said unable to make eye contact. "Superhero needs me. And there's things I can do by following the rules that you can't."
Villain rolled their eyes. "Fine. Keep being a goody-two-shoes. See how far it gets you."
Hero gently squeezed Villain's hand, their ice-cold fingers intertwining with Villain's fiery hot touch. "You know, I just don't think you'd be able to handle me if we were on the same side. You'd be so flustered you wouldn't be able to get anything done."
Villain laughed, a bit of red flooding their cheeks. "Please. You'd miss our banter so much you'd change sides before the end of the fight."
"Oh, you mean your terrible puns? The one's you practice in the mirror every day?" Hero raised an eyebrow.
Villain sputtered, causing Hero to laugh. The memory comforted them as they knocked on Superhero's door. Hearing a "Come in," they entered.
"Ah, Hero." Superhero looked up from some documents on their desk, setting them down and gesturing for Hero to take a seat.
"What can I do for you?" Hero asked, sitting down.
"I just wanted to congratulate you." Superhero smiled. "So many criminals frozen in their tracks, if you'll excuse the turn of phrase."
Hero smiled. It was nothing to worry about, after all. "Just doing my job."
"Yes," Superhero's lip curled in a curious smile. "I did have one small question, however." They took one of the documents they had been looking at and spun it around. "What do you make of this?" Hero noticed it was an image, blurry, of several figures at what seemed to be at an outdoor restaurant.
"I don't understand," Hero said, their eyebrows knit in confusion. "Is this our next target?"
"Yes it is, and I think you'll be quite familiar with them." Superhero produced a second photo, a thermal version of the same scene. Hero's blood ran even colder than usual. Among the usual heat signatures, there was a pair that stuck out like a sore thumb, together at one of the tables: one blistering hot, the other icy blue. There would be no denying who it was in those photos.
Hero went to stand, knowing they had no choice but to run.
"Now hold on." Superhero flicked their wrist and vines that had been sneaking their way towards Hero sprung forth. Hero fought against Superhero's powers, freezing the plants as they tried to wrap around their wrists and ankles.
"Just let me explain!" Hero shouted, firing blast after blast of icy cold air.
"I think the photos speak for themselves." Superhero calmly doubled the frequency of their attacks. "You've gotten Villain to trust you, but you're too weak to finish the job."
Hero's face flushed with anger, causing them to slip up. One vine caught them in the back of the neck, sprouting sharp thorns dripping with some type of sap. Hero felt their body starting to grow weak, opening them up to more attacks. The paralytic entered their system several times over, and soon they were unable to stand, collapsing at Superhero's feet.
"I could always see straight through you, Hero." Superhero used their plants to lift Hero's chin, forcing them to look up. "Still, I had such hope for you. But seeing as how long this has gone on, I think it's time I stepped in. Lucky for you, you've given me just what I need to catch Villain once and for all."
Hero tried to shout out, to struggle, to do anything, but their body wouldn't listen. Vines wrapped around their limbs, covering their ankles all the way up to their mouth. More thorns sprouted, digging into Hero's skin, ensuring that when the paralytic wore off, more would be there to replace it.
Superhero reached into Hero's pocket, pulling out their communication device. They skimmed through the contacts before finding one that was clearly Villain.
"Smile." Superhero snapped some photos of Hero, helpless, gagged, and tied up, preparing to send them to Villain. "Don't worry," Superhero patted Hero's head. "You're helping to bring in a master criminal. You're going to be a real hero."
Edit: there's a part 2 now :)
Edit 2, electric boogaloo: This is a series now :))))(Masterlist)
villain after hero broke up w them takes over world with mind control and leaves hero only one left not under their control? Sorry this has been on my mind and is oddly specific.
Hi Anon! No worries! Let’s see what I can come up with! Here you go! This wound up being kinda long, I hope that's okay!
Everything's Under Control
Hero had been on the run for six months. Always looking over their shoulder, never staying in one place longer than a week. Leaving sooner if so much as a glint of recognition flickered in someone’s faintly glowing eye.
It had been six months since Villain had accessed the amplification device. Six months since they enslaved the world through mind control. Seven months since Hero had broken up with them, and nine months since Hero had received the gift that would turn out to be their most valuable asset.
The pendant was silver, and had a faint blue tinge, a similar hue to the glow in everyone’s eyes. It prevented any telepathic connection to or manipulation of Hero’s mind. Villain had called it a gesture of trust. It was the one thing they had done that wasn’t totally controlling.
Hero had taken the tracker out of the pendant ages ago, but other than that, it worked just as Villain had promised it would. Hero was the only one in the entire world not under their power. Even Superhero themself had fallen.
Hero grabbed the microwave dinner from the aisle freezer and trudged up to the counter. They kept a baseball cap on their head and had a hoodie over that. It was so not their usual style, but they couldn’t risk being seen. Every nation had been ordered to bring them in. Not only were the civilians and police forces chasing them, but also special operatives and secret agents from around the globe. Villain would stop at nothing until Hero was theirs again.
The cashier rang up their items, their shimmering eyes raking over each one and taking in Hero’s form.
“Lousy weather we’re having, huh?” they asked.
Hero nodded quietly.
“Total downpour,” they said in an uncharacteristically gruff voice.
Everyone under Villain’s control got to maintain their own personalities and traits from before, only now, they had an unwavering, blind loyalty and complete obedience to their supreme leader, Villain. They wouldn’t even dream of disobeying them, or if they did, they could only rebel in the most subtle of ways. Those acts were usually snuffed out quickly.
Hero paid for their items in cash. Always in cash.
“You don’t see one of these every day,” the cashier said, putting the dollar coin in the register.
“Yep.”
“Have a good night, stay dry!”
“You too.”
Hero shuffled out of the store and into the rain. They hoped no one saw the droplets of water freezing to their clothes.
They crept into their motel room and flicked one table lamp on. They never let the whole room stay lit. They set their bags down in the kitchen and slid the frozen meal packet in the microwave.
They watched their meal spin round and round. When they pulled it out, it was still cold in the center. Hero slid it back in.
They flopped on the couch with their dinner. All was quiet.
Too quiet. It felt like the kind of silence that came when someone was holding their breath, not the kind that came from utter solitude.
Hero pulled their gun from its holster and aimed at the curtains.
“Hey, easy! Not here to hurt you!”
“What are you doing in my room?” Hero demanded in that same gravelly voice.
“Cut the theatrics, Hero, it’s me.”
They were discovered after all. Hero removed the safety and hoped they wouldn’t make a lethal shot.
Superhero stepped out of the shadows, hands up in surrender.
“I said I’m not here to hurt you, put it down,” they said.
“None of you want to hurt me,” Hero snapped in their normal voice, “I believe Villain’s instructions were, ‘bring them in unharmed’.”
“I’m not trying to bring you in, either.”
Hero shook their head, taking aim.
“Superhero, if you’re still in there, I’m sorry about this-”
“Look at my eyes.”
Hero tilted their head. Superhero’s eyes were devoid of the blue glow. The safety went back on.
“I don’t follow.”
“I broke my connection,” Superhero said, taking a careful step forward, “it wasn’t easy. I almost got a concussion from the reset. It’s me, Hero.”
Icy tears stung their eyes. Hero lowered the gun back in its holster. Superhero had them in a hug instantly.
“Shhh,” Superhero said, “it’s okay. You’ve been alone for so long, haven’t you?”
Hero nodded, sobbing.
“It’s been the worst! I can’t trust anyone!”
“I know. Me neither. I managed to save a couple of our friends in the U.S., but it hasn’t been easy. We’re trying to formulate a plan to release everyone and stop Villain from having any control.”
Hero shuddered, their shoulders slumping in relief.
“I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
…
Superhero brought Hero to the rebel bunker, where they finally got a decent night’s sleep without having to wake every few hours to check over their shoulder.
Hero came down to the mess hall, where Superhero was waiting for them.
“We’ll need to take a sub back to the states. Intel says that’s where Villain is now.”
Hero nodded, eating mouthful after mouthful. It was the first good meal they had had since this all started.
“We won’t be detected as long as we’re careful- run.”
Hero blinked, looking up at Superhero.
“What did you say?”
Superhero looked like they were having a migraine. They brought their hands up to their left eye, just managing to pull a tinted contact lens out. Their eye flickered with a blue glow.
“Run,” they pleaded, “it’s a trap-agh!”
Their eyes dilated, and they pulled the other contact out, letting their eyes shimmer properly. Hero stared in horror, scrambling to get up and bolting from the hall. They just had time to see a single tear roll down Superhero’s cheek before the master crime-fighter was running after them.
Hero skated on a trail of ice as all the other “rebels” removed their tinted contacts and converged on them. Hero blasted through most of them. They ran to the gate, but it was sealed shut. They started freezing it, hoping to compromise the integrity of the metal.
The heavy steel screeched, stretching and contorting and-
The cacophony of footsteps thundered louder from all entrances.
“Come on, come on,” Hero begged.
The prick in their shoulder told them it was all over.
“No!” Hero shouted.
The first rays of dawn peeked through the gate. Hero started to climb through the opening, but then their limbs failed them.
The group surrounded them and pulled them back inside, laying them gently on the floor. Superhero knelt beside them.
“Shh,” Superhero said, “it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Tears streamed down Hero’s cheeks. The world became dim and faded into nothing.
…
Hero startled awake. They sat up as the world came into focus. A grand bedroom greeted them. Gold plastered every piece of furniture. Photos of corgis hung on the gilded walls. The canopied bed they lay in was adorned with the softest covers and pillows.
Hero still wore their pendant.
A knock came at the door, and Villain strode in. Hero watched them cross the room with wide, frightened eyes.
“Don’t look so afraid, darling,” Villain said, “you know I’d never hurt you.”
“Where are we?” Hero demanded through the shake in their voice.
“Buckingham Palace,” Villain said, “the Queen’s quarters, to be exact, God rest her soul. Did you know she had corgis? Cute little things, but very vocal. They almost never listen. They remind me of someone I know.”
“Villain, I’m not taking you back,” Hero said, “you might as well just let everyone go and-”
Villain laughed.
“You think I mind-controlled the entire world because I’m not over you?” they asked.
There was a long pause. A blush formed on Villain’s cheeks.
“Maybe there’s some truth in that,” Villain muttered, “but it doesn’t matter. I’m not releasing my hold now that I’ve gotten a taste for it.”
Villain approached the bedside, and Hero clutched their pendant protectively.
“Still wearing it, huh?” they asked.
“You’re not getting it,” Hero said, eyes narrowed.
“I’m not going to take your necklace, Hero, it was a gift,” Villain said, “when you join me, I want it to be of your own volition.”
Now it was Hero’s turn to laugh. Breathy, high-pitched, and disbelieving.
“You think I’d do that after all this!?” Hero demanded, “you were controlling before, but now… now…now you’re just a dictator! An actual, one-hundred percent dictator!”
“Dictator or not, I love you,” Villain said, tilting Hero’s chin up, “and deny it if you want, but I think you still love me.”
Hero pushed down the flutter in their heart. This was exactly the reason they had broken things off in the first place! Love wasn’t enough. There needed to be trust, and accountability, and growth, and- not whatever this was.
Villain leaned in and pressed a gentle, tender kiss to their lips. Hero fought the instinct to kiss them back. Villain broke it a moment later, considering them.
“Don’t worry, I have faith in us, Hero, I always have,” Villain said, “please don’t try to run. I hate seeing your skin marred by pinpricks.”
Villain left the room, and Hero saw two guards in the corridor. They assumed their stations on either side of the door. It closed behind Villain, and Hero stared at it for some time before the tears returned in full force, drowning any butterflies that had been fluttering in their stomach. Villain had won, and everything was in their control now.
Hero felt weightless. Their breath left their body in a hollow “god” and felt nothing more.
Superhero kept a hand easily on Villain’s slumped shoulder. Superhero’s smile was brilliant but all Hero could look at was the bruises on Villain’s freshly buzzed scalp—
—had their eyes always been so pale? It was so painfully obvious Villain’s mind was anywhere but here. Spiraling, absent, empty.
Superhero ran a hand over Villain’s head in some manner of affection that made Hero’s heartbeat ring, distorted, in their ears.
Superhero shoved their former nemesis towards Hero. “It’s a gift. Thought you’d might like a,” again that smile, “turn tonight.”
Hero caught Villain, body limp, the smell of iron acidic. Up close, the bruises ran down their neck in a circle, like they’d been collared. Chained down. Unable to fight back.
Their voice faltered. “Has everyone else…had a go?”
Superhero’s laugh was all the confirmation they needed. “There isn’t much left of them. Enjoy it while they last.”
Superhero Whumpee whose powers stopped working because of the stress from the trauma of being raped having to relearn how to use them during recovery
oh that's REALLY good, i love that.
i love when psychological/traumatic things interfere with a superhero's powers and this is such a good manifestation of that. it compounds that sense of helplessness, and the shame of being reduced to 'less' than they were before. not only were they a hero who (they feel) allowed themself to be violated like that, but they're useless now after. they can't help anyone. they can't save anyone.
the public is talking, asking where they are, and they don't have a good answer. they're absent and silent and curled up in the dark, shaking from nightmares and the sense that they aren't safe, that nobody and nothing is safe.
and then after, the process of relearning, the twined recovery of their use of their powers and their sense of autonomy, of safety in their own body. the support of the people around them - other powered friends who they expected to turn their backs on them, to shame and berate them for being so useless, demand where they were when someone else got hurt and they could've helped, they're there. they have people who are trying to help, even though they're not their alter ego, they're not a hero right now. they're just... a friend. a friend who needs help.
