#h/c

[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.”

[helenedraws]

see? they're alright and together always

[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*

[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.

[chasoc]

You think I can fix myself? - AO3

[qpjianghu]

The First Shot (2024)

Ep. 15 ~ Gu Yiran whump + bridal carry

[whumpandthings]

Poolverine hurt/comfort prompt

Writers I need you xoxo

[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.

[enemieswbenefits]

Find yourself a fairy and throw it to a cat~

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“Oh, Christ—” the hero cursed. They tried to laugh but this time, they couldn’t conjure the energy for it. Usually they laughed off most things but this was a little too serious.

“Stop moving,” the villain hissed. They pressed their palm into the hero’s side and although the hero wanted to pretend it didn’t actually hurt them, it burnt. It burnt a lot.

The hero had never experienced this kind of pain nor had they ever had the slightest idea how mortal they actually were. To be fair, they had never ripped open most of their torso either.

With the villain putting more pressure onto the wound each second, the hero could only pray that they wouldn’t pass out.

“And stop smiling, this isn’t funny,” the villain added.

“I’m nervous,” the hero explained. “And this fucking hurts.”

The villain slammed them back against the tiles when their hips moved up. It made the hero whine and beg like a dog but the villain didn’t seem to care about that. Eventually, they sat down on the hero’s hips and kept their hands on their flesh.

In other circumstances, this would’ve promised a good night. The hero was already without a shirt and the villain was, indeed, certainly attractive.

However, the hero was quite sure they had never seen this much blood in their entire life. If they had had the energy, they would have apologised for the bloody bathroom. The sink and floor especially.

“You won’t die on me. I know how to fix this.”

“Wouldn’t the bleeding stop if you pushed your fingers into the wound?” the hero asked. They felt light-headed. They had heard something like this in training. A sort of last-resort-thing.

But their thoughts already blurred together. They took in deep breaths as their body pumped blood through their torso. They were delirious, tasting blood. Oh God, the villain would kill them for ruining the bathroom.

“Do you actually want that?” the villain asked. The hero looked at the villain’s fingers move towards the cylindrical wound. Two fingers were on the raw and bleeding flesh, dipped in thick blood and nearly digging into the messy wound.

“Ah, maybe not—” It had been a screwdriver. The hero had been attacked with a screwdriver and their nemesis tried to save them from bleeding out.

It was so pathetic, so embarrassing, the hero could only laugh weakly. On their patrol the hero had been a little too confident, a little too cocky and now they turned the villain’s white bathroom into a red nightmare. This damn bathroom.

“Smart choice.” Instead of pushing their fingers into the wound, they used their palm again. Without much thought, the hero grabbed the villain’s arm but they couldn’t swallow the scream this time.

By now, tears ran down their cheeks and they could feel the wound pulsate. They wanted the villain’s soft touch and their sweet smile.

They wanted to fall asleep on their chest and forget about this stupid thing.

Longing for someone was something the hero loathed.

“Just let me die, please, this is torture.” They whimpered the last words. With one last rush of energy, they pushed themselves up to talk some sense into the villain but the villain only pushed them down again.

“I’m afraid this isn’t your decision anymore. I will save you and I’m sorry you’re hurt.” They grabbed the bottle of pure rubbing alcohol and the hero nearly managed to crawl back a little. “You need to survive.”

“Please, there is so much blood…”

“I am not going to let you die.”

“Then please be gentle.” The tears made it difficult to see them but the villain stared at them and the hero could feel something shift. Something was changing behind the villain’s eyes. They hesitated. “What?”

“Here.” The villain took their hand. “Squeeze as hard as you can when it starts to hurt.”

“You’re too kind,” the hero joked. Exhaustion took over them quickly. They were sweating. They felt disgusting. They were trembling. They waited for the alcohol to burn their skin.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” The hero frowned but the villain slapped them immediately without an explanation. The hero was so confused, so offended that they didn’t expect the following pain of the alcohol on their raw skin.

They supposed it was better this way but they still cursed the villain with every single insult they could come up with.

[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?"

[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

[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)

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

You can also read this story on AO3 !

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

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 !

[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.