#H/c

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hurt//comfort with hero or villain tending to the other person’s wounds please….. tyty..

"I..." The villain felt their hands shake. How on earth were they supposed to handle this? Them being here in the hero's house was already too much contact, too much of a mistake. The villain was a mess, that much they could admit.

But was it because they had failed to do their job? Or because the damage they had caused was (inexplicably) too much for them to fall asleep to at night peacefully?

"Hm," the hero said. They closed their eyes. Jogging pants and a simple shirt had exchanged the fancy clothes from yesterday's evening and they sat on their couch, messy hair falling into their eyes. "Here to finish the job?"

The villain didn't find the right words. To be more precise, they didn't find any words at all.

In the back of their mind, the villain laughed at themselves for missing, but another part of them cursed themselves for picking up the gun in the first place.

It had been a simple order. To kill a target.

Killing people for money was merely work for the villain, nothing more. They had never had any ill feelings towards their victims, had never questioned what they were doing. It was as simple as it could get: a simple request, a simple answer, a simple amount of money. But when it had been clear to them that it was the hero, the person who got in their way regularly, they had felt worse than ever.

Although yesterday was already somewhat of a blur, they could remember the horrible feeling in their gut when they had seen the hero at the party through the spotting scope.

Their enemy was highly skilled and the villain had felt like a coward. Like someone who stabbed them from behind. The hero deserved a good and fair fight, not this.

Once the hero had been alone on the balcony, looking over all the other buildings, the villain had made up their mind. Their enemy had looked calm. Peaceful even. They had placed the glass of alcohol on a table nearby. They had leaned against the metallic bannister of the balcony and had stared into the villain's direction, almost as if they could sense them.

They could remember the way the hero's hair had moved in the wind. How tired they had looked, how the fresh air had cooled down the blush on their face.

So, for better or for worse, the villain had taken in a deep breath, aimed at their target and…missed the hero's head.

They had shot their shoulder instead. Had watched the hero's surprise, the quiet gasp, had watched as they had fallen to their knees, had looked around. Confused. Panicked. Desperate.

And the villain had stayed there on the rooftop, hadn't dared to move.

The hero had stood up, gone inside as quickly as possible, had grabbed their jacket and excused themselves. They had left the party without anyone noticing they had been injured and no one - the villain assumed - had gone after them to check if everything was alright.

The villain supposed the hero was good when it came to lying, when it came to excuses.

Now, the villain stared at them. Why were they here? Why hadn't they done their job?

It had been a clear shot. One entry wound, one exit wound. Not deadly. But very, very nasty. Why had they missed on purpose?

"You're bleeding," the villain said quietly. The hero's eyes followed the villain's gaze and together, they stared at the hero's shirt which slowly started to get drenched in blood.

The hero sighed.

"Shit. That's my third shirt this morning. Do you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out of clothes?"

"I...I am aware, yes." The villain didn't know what to do with their hands, they didn't know where to move, what to say. They had never been this stunned, this incompetent. But the hero acted instead of them. They headed for the bathroom and the villain followed like a dog without any hesitation.

"Thank you for missing, by the way," the hero said. They took off their shirt while they were walking and the villain did not miss how much they struggled with their injured shoulder. The villain wanted to touch them, wanted to help but in the last second, they withdrew their hand and the hero didn't even notice the villain's intentions.

"I'm a lousy shot," the villain said.

"Everyone knows that's bullshit." The hero came to a stop in the bathroom and the villain nearly bumped into them when they set a foot in the room.

The room looked like a scene from a horror movie. Blood was everywhere, bandages were everywhere. Pills were scattered on the ground, bloody clothes were hanging over the sink, the toilet, the bathtub.

"Excuse the mess, will you?" The hero crouched to pick up the green first aid kit.

And the villain didn't know their body was capable of those feelings. With their heartbeat in their throat and their heart sending waves of pain into their chest, the villain feared for a moment that they had gotten horribly sick in the last few hours. Judging by the dark circles under the hero's eyes, they had spent most of the remaining night here in the bathroom, trying to fix two wounds. One of which they could barely reach.

"Sit down." The villain managed to keep their voice steady. They swallowed, tasted bile. They were...angry?

"Just give me sec-" Not at the hero, though.

"No. Sit down. Right here, right now," the villain ordered. They put their hand on the hero's healthy shoulder and pushed them down until there was no protest. Once that was done, the villain kneeled behind them, put a flat hand on the hero's naked back and observed the doings of their bullet.

The wound on the hero's back was barely treated - it had been bleeding long before the villain had noticed the bleeding on the other side. Dark reds, fleshy pinks and sickly blues mixed together and created a gruesome painting the villain had seen too many times before but could barely handle now.

"You need to see a doctor," the villain decided.

"Pff, I'm fi-" The villain put minimal pressure on the red and purple bruises around the wound and the hero gasped hard enough for the villain to fear they would throw up any second.

"I can't tell how much your shoulder blade is damaged. If the bone splintered..."

"I'm fine," the hero said.

"I can stitch the wounds but that's all, you need to see a doctor nonetheless."

"I have never needed a doctor."

"I am not asking nicely," the villain said and this time, their voice cracked. The hero turned their head to look at them but the villain's attention was on the wound.

Or maybe they were too afraid to look at them.

"Honestly, I am not a resentful person, but let's not forget who did this in the first place."

The villain leaned back a little, the words stuck in the back of their throat.

"I'm..." They couldn't, they simply couldn't say it. They started to whisper. "It's just a job."

"Just a job," the hero sneered. They grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it into the open wound they could reach. Without another word, they grabbed the needle, cleaned it and gave it to the villain, along with some thread. "...like I said. I'm not resentful."

The villain got to work and pierced into the hero's skin. They could hear the hisses, the weak laughs to overshadow the pain. It wasn't pretty - soon enough the hero’s blood was running down the villain's fingertips but they did (somehow) manage to fabricate some decent stitches.

"...you don't have to say it. I forgive you either way," the hero said through gritted teeth. "And it doesn't matter anyway. You're...you are here now."

Once the villain was done, the hero turned around and the villain, for the love of them, couldn't look the hero in the eyes.

"But it was an order, wasn't it? You didn't just decide to shoot me."

The villain cleaned the needle and started again. This time, however, they could see the hero's grimaces, not only the pain in spasming muscles but also the pain in their eyes, the exhaustion between their words. And that made it more difficult.

The villain wanted to touch them, to comfort them. But they couldn’t, just like they couldn’t apologise to them.

There was something wrong with them, something broken within them. What kind of person couldn’t whisper a simple apology?

"Yes, it was," the villain said. Their hands were still shaking a bit.

"I was pretty drunk when it happened," the hero admitted. "And my adrenaline was kicking in immediately. At first, I barely noticed. Once I was home, I was crying instead of screaming. Didn't wanna wake up the neighbors. I honestly thought this was it."

The villain didn't answer. Their heart was heavy enough and even though the hero didn't consider themselves resentful, forgiveness was still arduous to ask for and even harder to deserve.

"Please," the villain said. "Please, just hate me. It would make this a lot easier for me."

"I'm not here to make it easier for you," the hero said and with that, the villain finished the stitches and felt even worse than before. They supposed they deserved it, but whatever peace of mind they had longed for, the hero didn't give it to them.

Instead, they gave the villain undeserved compassion, horrible understanding and infuriating kindness. It was enough torture for the villain already.

[helenedraws]

see? they're alright and together always

[thinkingofausername]

can yall imagine the giddiness you'd be feeling if you were with astarion? cause like... i'd never digest it, i just couldn't settle down.

imagine having that gorgeous gorgeous man, so very charming and special and attentive and fun and sweet as your partner. sometimes he seems unreal, an eternal and divine being with starlight in his hair and passion in his eyes. underneath the snarky, flirty, uncaring performance is a person so unique, so enduring, so unfalteringly strong in his persistence. amidst the horror and abuse he didn't go crazy, didn't lose that innocent and yearning spark. you'd look at those vivid and expressive eyes, hear that wavering and genuine voice, feel those tentative and soft hands and you'd be undoubtedly sure of the goodness in him; the goodness within his capability.

imagine looking at a person so deeply precious and knowing he's been hurt and used so much. imagine feeling nauseous at the thought. imagine knowing that despite that he's still brave enough to seek and receive affection and companionship - the things he's never known and yet he has enough courage to trust you to show it to him. you're his first and only experience with softness and boundaries and a person who has never had control of himself has given himself to you - given you the chance to teach him.

you get to look at that inhumanely beautiful person, so very clever and appreciative, and you know that he chose you. he holds you so tightly because you're the first thing he's had. you're the refuge, the kind word and hand he never thought he'd have. sometimes you look at him and get struck with the potential and power in him, and not the materialistic, ugly power. the power that lies within a person who has emerged from agony and given the world a chance to treat him differently instead of giving up entirely.

he's all that and despite his bravado, you know he doesn't see it. you know he feels a phantom rot within himself. you know that he could be the most beautiful person in the world, and he will - with time and love and healing. and you get to watch it happen. and he cherishes every second you spend by his side.

[roses-ink-dipped-pen]

Hero would have never thought that embracing their archenemy would be anywhere close to therapeutic, but here they were. Villain had finally found their weakness, and despite being the villain they couldn’t bring themselves to use this as an opportunity for their evil deeds, not now at least.

Hero closed their eyes, letting Villain scoop them up with strong arms. Villain supported their back with one arm, the other held their bottom as they hoisted the Hero against their chest. The warlord wasn’t used to being the first to initiate a hug, or the whole concept of hugs in general, but they did their best to make sure Hero felt at ease.

“Is this too much?” Villain looked down at their rival with so much care and concern, it scared Hero for a moment. Hero shook their head, squeezing Villain’s torso as a sign to encourage them to deepen the hug.

Villain smiled in contentment as they held their hero, swaying left to right while humming a small tune. Hero listened in, enjoying it despite the unfamiliar notes.

“I have a feeling you’ve been needing this for quite some time.” Villain purred in a singsong voice. They couldn’t help but press a kiss to their rival’s temple, their thumb traced small circles onto their cheek. Hero smiled brightly, a singular tear trailed down their face. Villain wiped it away, pinching their cheek as they began their tread down the empty sidewalk.

“Let’s get you home, it’s late.” Hero happily obliged to the Villain’s request to stay for the night on the way there.

[macgyvermedical]

Announcing MEDLEY: A Medical Primer for Writers (Summer Edition)

Are you a writer?

Do you need to know things about medicine for your fiction works?

Have you considered taking a 100% online class about it?

Starting Tuesday, June 4th (7PM) and running for 9 weeks is MEDLEY.

Topics include:

WEEK 1: (US) Hospitals and the People Who Work in Them

WEEK 2: The Physical Exam

WEEK 3: Codes and ACLS

WEEK 4: Remote and Improvised Medicine 1

WEEK 5: Remote and Improvised Medicine 2

WEEK 6: Recovery and Aftermath

WEEK 7: Historical Medicine

WEEK 8: Mental Healthcare

WEEK 9: Bonus Episode

This is the second time I'm running this course so hopefully the kinks are nice and ironed out this time.

Price is $36 per person ($4/week). Recordings of the lectures are available for a month after the last week of the course, so you don't have to watch live.

Contact me at consultingwhumper@gmail.com for more information/to sign up.

[whumblr]

Hands cupping their face, hurried kisses and touches, words of comfort, fearful glances back over their shoulder, footsteps getting closer, foreheads touching and a whispered "I'll be back for you" when a character is restrained or stuck is just 🤌 *mwah*

[federaliszt]

hurt character who is coming out of a period of captivity:

getting to sleep on a mattress again, instead of a hard dirty floor

burrowing under blankets for the first time in ages, feeling like they're finally warm again after so long shivering and shaking in the cold.

having tissues to wipe their nose with instead of having to use the back of their hand.

having a fresh change of clothes, and their old familiar jackets and sweaters back. having a bonfire to burn every rag and shred of clothing that they had to wear during their captivity.

being able to pick up the phone and call their loved ones anytime they want.

being able to sneak down into the kitchen at 3 in the morning for a late-night snack, just the joyful freedom of having a stocked pantry after so many long nights of hunger pangs and feeling like their empty stomach was eating them from the inside out.

nestling into the comforts of home at long last, soaking up every tiny reassurance that they're not there anymore, and they'll never have to go back there ever again.

[chasoc]

You think I can fix myself? - AO3

[selene-and-the-cold]

Good: When a sick person says "I don't feel so good... ugh!"

Better: When someone else says to the sick person: "You don't feel so good, huh?"

[paingoes]

Destroyer Masterpost

Destroyer is a sci-fi story about a telekinetic living weapon called Δ-107, or Delta for short, who is controlled by an evil space empire. The story takes place immediately following the death of the old Emperor and explores the ensuing succession crisis. Delta is inherited by the Emperor’s only son, the crown prince Paris of Thales, and lives aboard his battleship.

===============================

Character Overview:

Delta (Δ-107) - living weapon with strong and destructive telekinesis

Paris - crown prince of Empire and Delta's current owner

Simon - a theoretical physicist and glad scientist, one of Delta's handlers (not pictured)

Dr.Martino - a doctor who specializes in psychic abilities, Delta's other handler (not pictured)

==============================

voice claims !!! <3

art :D

==============================

You can also read this story on AO3 !

click here to see series in writing order

==============================

Story:

Prologue - Intro to Delta's powers, the moment he was acquired by Empire

Even More Prologue, Somehow - Death of the emperor, succession

Trigger Discipline - first meeting

Blood Ties - Paris tries to break Delta in

Thorns - Daily routine

Lightshow - First brief mission

Night at the Ball - what it says

Behave - Obedience training or maybe just fucking around we're not sure

Moonshine - Delta steals a laptop. Paris gets too drunk.

Dune - not the one you're thinking of

Penance - Delta’s on probation. kinda harsh!

Memory - Some info about Delta's childhood

LEECH - Simon goes too far

Castle Damon - Delta’s not the only psychic in the world

Web - Delta plays on the computer for a few hours

Bottle Episode - Everyone’s mad?

Mercy - Drastic measures are considered in light of rebellion

Sea Changes

Marks - Slap on the wrist

Bingo - This meeting could have been an email

In Shadows - Internal analysis

MK - Drug trials

Golem - Delta cinches a critical victory. Paris gets mad.

Graduation - fuck yes lorelai is in this one

Medical Conference - delta gets shown off and also drugged

Lemuria - There's a massacre at Lemuria

Discourse - The internet has opinions

Asking - Delta asks for something. He doesn't get it.

Like An Arrow - Time flies

Rupture - Some information gets declassified

Time Flies - Like an arrow

Come Back - Delta blows up the parliament building

A Sentence of Sorts - More things get declassified. Paris is troubled, more than usual.

Help - Delta offers to help Paris

Masquerade - A bad party and a mild identity crisis

:3

Tundra I - Spiritually this is the Christmas episode because there's snow and they fight

Tundra II - Post-fight hangover

afk

Check-Up

Battleship

Birthday I

Birthday II

Bridge

The End

===============================

aaaaand that's the end! ....or is it?

Delta's story continues in the sequel series Rubies <3

Paris has a series too I guess.

Thanks so much for reading :D !

[save-the-villainous-cat]

With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

[whumpandthings]

Poolverine hurt/comfort prompt

Writers I need you xoxo

[licorice-tea]

You’re An Angel When You Sleep

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3

Edited 2/28/24

Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.

People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.

And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.

How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.

It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.

He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.

But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”

He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.

“How foolish.”

Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.

All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.

Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”

And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.

His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.

-

“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”

This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.

“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”

Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.

And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”

You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.

“Then I swam over here-“

“Which is where?”

You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”

“While I was dying.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”

“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”

“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”

He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.

“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.

You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“

“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.

“Ok… What is it?”

Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.

The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.

[roses-ink-dipped-pen]

“This is absurd.”

Villain muttered defiantly as they were forced to swallow bittersweet tea, the mug that was brought to their lips was held by Hero. As if the night couldn’t get any worse...

The evil doer failed to make it to the docks, located about fifteen miles West from their underground headquarters. Somehow their ego convinced them that they could simply walk there with no consequence.

They had some pretty hefty equipment waiting for them, completely at their disposal. Unfortunately, Villain was too impatient to wait out the blizzard.

“Nobody asked you to take a hike in the middle of a snowstorm, dodo bird.” The hero rolled their eyes to the sky as Villain let out a disgusted whine, a dramatic display of their discomfort.

Villain swallowed hard, their face contorted into a grimace.

“Did you have to put wormwood in this…?” The warlord coughed.

“It helps, don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

Hero adjusted the pillows behind Villain’s neck, leaning forward against the armrest of the couch Villain groveled on. Hero placed the empty mug on the coffee table, before kneeling down beside their sick rival.

“That’s so reassuring.” Villain drawled.

Hero chuckled lightly, reaching an arm out to cup the Villain’s face in their right hand, caressing their cheekbone with a thumb.

Hero didn’t bother rubbing Villain’s folly in their face any longer than they usually would, Hero knew when it was time to stop.

Villain simply groaned, thoroughly embarrassed that Hero of all people had to be the one tending to them. A part of them did enjoyed the attention they were receiving, despite their archenemy witnessing them at their weakest. It felt nice..

But Villain wouldn’t dare speak that out into the atmosphere.

[whumpydump]

You know what i dont see enough of? POISON WHUMP!!! Where is it?? Why are you keeping this from me?? Hand it. Over.

[whumblr]

Sleepy

“Welcome back.”

Whumpee blinked a couple times and stared into the amused eyes of Caretaker, who was smiling at him from behind his desk.

“I didn’t go anywhere?” he muttered. Whoa, his voice was all gravelly. Weird. He shifted on the sofa where he’d been splayed out for the afternoon, helping Caretaker finish some work. His body felt all heavy, his movements sluggish… actually, everything from his thoughts to his limbs all went on a slower pace.

And when he couldn’t stifle a yawn, the gears clanked into place.

“Wait, I fell asleep?!” he bumbled, mouth still mid-yawn.

“You were even snoring.”

He gaped at Caretaker, pushing himself up to a slightly more dignified reclining position. The silence between them broke by the slither of paper slowly sliding from his stomach and scattering over the floor.

“Oh shit.” He startled up, hand reaching out in a half-hearted attempt to catch the files.

“Given the content of what you’re reading… not very surprising," Caretaker said, no scorn of judgment in his voice whatsoever.

If those legal documents were indeed the cause of him nodding off, Whumpee swore he’d find a way to smuggle all the confidential files out of the building and use them that very night. But somehow he doubted the dry sentences were the reason.

“How long did I sleep?”

A quick glance at the clock. “Over an hour now.”

“Why didn’t you wake me? I promised I’d look this over for you.” He waved with the papers he now tried to put back in order.

Caretaker shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

Whumpee wiped a hand over his face and sighed into his palm. “God, I do. I did. I haven’t slept like this in…” Months? Not since— He shook his head. And to feel groggy, like this? Usually when he woke up, he could feel he wasn’t rested but his body and mind shot to alert as soon as he would open his eyes and wouldn’t go back to sleep again.

To actually feel his body begging him for more sleep now, just to turn over and close his eyes again for a minute. Gods, it felt like heaven.

He gave in and closed his eyes again. Everything turned heavy, but not in a bad way. It was comforting. “Of all places to finally get some sleep,” he mumbled, “it’s in your bloody office.”

“Maybe you feel safe here.”

Whumpee smiled, eyes still closed. Yes, safe. With you.

-

General whump tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan