Tumgik
#HERO IS A TRANSMAN (or nonbinaire) IF YOU SQUINT
epiclamer · 9 months
Note
HELLOO
villain caretaker and a sheepish hero whumpee ????????????????(!;!(&((!(!(' go
for you and your wife : 🌸🌺🌼🍄
Her favourite flower is lavender actually, but thank you.
Tumblr media
Soup for the Soul
The scene in front of them was definitely not reflective of their hero. A shivering, shaking, sweating mess of their former self, buried under a mountain of blankets and tissues that fell to the floor after only a minute or so had passed in between the hero’s fingers.
Masking the slight worry in their mind with a smirk as the villain approached the other sprawled out on the couch. “What are you wearing?”
With only a slight delay, the hero’s head perked up from its spot on the armrest, only to fall back down after they had caught a glimpse of their nemesis in the corner of the room. The villain pushed themselves away from the wall and slowly centred around the hero, standing over them at last.
“I mean seriously, what is that?”
The hero sighed, dropping another tissue to the floor in defeat, pulling one more from their increasingly thinning box. “It’s all I have left. Everything else is covered in vomit or snot or some other sick germ.”
Their voice was sick—if their body didn’t portray that enough already—it was a deep sick, like one’s classic cold times eight. Mucus must’ve been coating their entire respiratory system, not to mention it probably fogged their brain up too.
“So you chose to go with the hot pink princess outfit? Made for twelve year old girls?”
“My mom bought it for me.” They snapped, too upset to not set off flags in the villain’s mind.
Idly the villain began reorganizing and fiddling with the medications and dishes on the coffee table at the hero’s feet. “My mom buys me things too, but it sure as hell isn’t from the women’s youth section.” They muttered, both hands filled with dirty dishes as they headed to deposit them in the kitchen. “And even if they were, you wouldn’t catch me wearing them if it meant I had to go to the dry cleaners naked.”
That got a chuckle out of the hero at least, a little bit of life still salvageable. The villain continued their tidying as the hero closed their eyes, shaking their head a little as they grinned.
“My advice? Call your mother and get your receipt to return it for something way more revealing.”
There was a pause, then the hero sighed again. “I don’t talk to her anymore.”
“Maybe your father has it?”
The villain watched as the hero shrugged, eyes still closed. “Don’t talk with him either.”
As much as the conversation had taken a somber turn, the villain had barely any experience with heavy subjects as such. Their main resort was humour, but they doubted that would help in a moment like this. Instead they tried their best to keep busy with their hands, purposefully clanking pots against each other and utensils together to fill the void-like silence.
Food always helped in tense situations like these, especially hot soup for the soul. So they let the silence stretch on until the only thing left to do was wait for a boil.
“If you don’t mind me asking; why?” Quietly as ever, the villain dug through the cabinets in the hero’s kitchen until the pads of their fingers struck gold.
The first aid kit.
The hero hummed, never looking up, focused entirely on relaxing their sore muscles as the villain approached. “We have a history of not seeing eye to eye.”
Dropping the first aid kit to the floor the villain followed suit as they sat. Gentle hands prying over the other’s arm as they got started, mumbling in agreement while they got out ointments, bandaids and gauze.
“But particularly we never agreed on me. My life, my choices, who I am.” Their skin flushed slightly at the touch of their nemesis, goosebumps coating them in a matter of seconds, which in their head they blamed on the cool sensation of the ointment being rubbed into their raw skin. But they knew it wasn’t the truth.
“Those ones are the worst.” The criminal whispered as they kept massaging the ointment into any scabs, scrapes or areas of flaky, dry skin. Their arms both looked a mess of eczema that was left far too long untreated.
The hero couldn’t stop the blush from reaching their cheeks as they watched the villain work diligently on their sorest spots. Noticing their issues and helping them fix it. The same type of care the hero would’ve killed for as a child. “Yeah…”
Embarrassed as they were, the hero was sure that the villain could hear them swallow nervously or at least feel their pounding heart. But if they did, they didn’t mention anything about it.
“Funnily enough, they still message me. Trying to get me to ‘change my mind’ or ‘take a different path’ as if this shit is my choice.”
The villain crooked an eyebrow, eyes flicking up for a millisecond to latch onto the hero’s before returning to their work. “I’m guessing they send you gifts too. Playing off the fact that these clothes look new and not like they were passed through your childhood.”
They nodded, shutting their eyes again as their face got redder. Avoiding any type of glance at themselves and their humiliating get up, the more they thought about it, the more the hero wanted to cry.
A bubbling hiss sounded from the kitchen and the villain shot up and ran to the stove. Immediately shutting off the burner and pulling the pot of soup off to try and stop it’s over-boiling, the villain breathed in content as it calmed down quickly. Taking out two bowls and two spoons as they poured equal parts before carrying it to the couch side where they last were.
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” They handed their enemy a bowl and a spoon, relishing in the cute dusting of pink on the tips of the other’s ears. “Eat up and then just relax. I’ll handle laundry and we’ll get you out of that get up, then I’ll treat the rest of you, sound good?”
The hero smiled, nodding their head once more as they struggled up to a seated position and shovelled the hot meal down their throat in seconds. Their parents wouldn’t have approved of the villain either, but they didn’t control the hero anymore.
The villain made them feel free, and that was all they needed.
156 notes · View notes