#whump promts

[whumperly]

Whump Symbols Masterlist

Beneath the cut is a list of symbols. Send one or more of the following for receiver's muse to discover sender's muse... (or include a 🔄 for the reverse!)

😈 ...being tortured.

🩸 ...bleeding out.

🦴 ...with a visibly broken bone.

🪡 ...patching, stitching, or cauterizing their own wounds.

🩹 ...beaten and left to die.

😵 ...unconscious.

🪑 ...collapsed or unable to stand.

⚡ ...being electrocuted.

🔍 ...suddenly returned after having gone missing.

🍽️ ...dying of starvation.

🥤 ...dying of thirst.

🕳️ ...fallen into a deep pit, hole, or ravine.

⛰️ ...dangling from a ledge.

👐 ...being strangled.

🔪 ...stabbed.

🔫 ...shot.

🌊 ...drowning.

🚬 ...covered in cigarette burns.

🤕 ...covered in bruises.

🫗 ...poisoned.

🥃 ...drunk.

💊 ...drugged or overdosed.

🐴 ...whipped.

⭕ ...branded.

🐍 ...bitten or stung by a venomous creature.

🤧 ...severely ill.

😨 ...having a dangerous allergic reaction.

🤰 ...suddenly going into labor at a bad time.

🔇 ...mute from trauma, shock, or conditioning.

🧍‍♂️ ...paralyzed.

🙈 ...blinded.

❓ ...suffering from amnesia.

💥 ...caught in an explosion.

🔥 ...trapped in a fire.

❄️ ...suffering from hypothermia.

🥵 ...suffering severe heat stroke.

📸 ...being publicly humiliated.

🗣️ ...being verbally assaulted.

💪 ...being physically assaulted.

💋 ...being sexually assaulted.

🪢 ...bound and gagged.

⛓️ ...chained up.

‼️ ...forced into a stress position.

🐶 ...collared and kept like an animal.

⚠️ ...having a panic or anxiety attack.

👹 ...experiencing sleep paralysis.

🛌 ...having a nightmare or night terror.

👁️ ...severely sleep deprived.

🛞 ...unable to drive safely or at all.

🚙 ...struck by a car.

🛻 ...in a car accident.

🏚️ ...trapped beneath a collapsed structure.

💣 ...with a bomb strapped to their body.

🚨 ...arrested and taken to jail or prison.

🚑 ...rushed to the ER.

⚰️ ...buried alive.

💀 ...on the verge of death.

🪦 ...dead.

Feel free to change whatever you like to make the wording more specific for your muses or desired scenario!

[siren-of-agony]

The horror of immortal whumpee with superhealing. The horror of not leaving scars. The horror of it's not visible, it's not lasting, so it didn't happen.

You can hurt them and hurt them and hurt them and hurt them and hurt them again.

And everyone just sees clear skin, sees youthfulness. No evidence of suffering remains.

It doesn't look like anything happened to them, so how could they still suffer from it?

Why should others give them empathy, give them care, when there's nothing to care about. Why should they themselves?

Just look at them. Nothing happened.

[whumpbythefireside]

Terribly squeamish character in a historical setting becomes unwell and awfully feverish, meaning that a physician has to come and bleed them. Since they’re already semi-delirious, this is not a fun situation.

[allthewhumpygoodness]

Whumpy choice time!

Which is better - the slow and seemingly never-ending dull throb and pierce of a deep wound being stitched, eventually becoming almost repetitive enough that the pain fades into the background, only for it to remain long after it's finished --

Or the quick and sudden but near excruciating pain of a cauterization, unable to prepare for even if it comes with a warning, so hot and sharp it takes the breath away and is almost as biting as the wound itself was...

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 38

Whumpee came limping into a remote village. Confused onlookers stared at the clearly injured individual, who spoke a language they didn’t recognize, wearing a uniform they’ve never seen. Then again they didn’t see much up in the mountains.

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 10 - Killing in self-defense

CW: death, revenge

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What's worse than taking a life? Not getting the relief you expect to come from it.

After killing Whumper, calculated murder or spontaneous manslaughter, Whumpee is left with the consequences of their actions:

Maybe Whumper was too influential, meaning Whumpee and Caretaker have to get rid of the body asap

Where can they get help from? Trapped in the middle of nowhere, they have to fight further to reach civilization

Whumpee suffers deadly wounds from the fight, their last goal was to take the monster out and prevent Whumper from hurting anyone else

Stockholm-syndrome Whumpee can't help but cry about the loss of their beloved Whumper, the contradictions of survival instincts and attachment nearly splitting their mind apart

Even months after, Whumpee is haunted by some sort of "perpetrator trauma", the undeserved guilt for protecting themself gnaws at their soul

Whumper may be gone for good, but the Whumpee's suffering continues nevertheless...

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[whumble-beeee]

Crack Prompt: Welcome to the Whumpee Store!

(aka totally not bbu what do you MEAN)

Whumpees stacked on shelves grocery store-style

Different aisles for different types of whumpee ("No ma'am, this is actually the conditioned aisle, the defiant aisle is on the other side of the store, aisle 9.")

Workers that are TOTALLY not whumpees themselves probably

Or maybe that teenager helping you really is just your average dead-eyed retail worker. Basically the same thing at this point anyway.

"Sir, that's the price for a fresh unaltered whumpee. You can mold them however you want."

"You want me to do YOUR JOB for you?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

On that note, whumpees made to order

You want a medium-sized defiant whumpee that'll start crying and freeze up the second you turn the lights off? Say less.

Tags on the more dainty and dewey-eyed whumpees that say "Torture with Care"

"Mx., you broke the warranty when you threw your whumpee down the stairs. The instructions clearly state they're meant for household chores only, you'll have to pay full price for a new one."

Whumpees in those sealed plastic action figure boxes, forced into a single pose for. however long it takes you to buy them please buy them they're begging you please PLEASE PLEASE THEY CAN'T TAKE--

Whumpees staring hopefully (or fearfully) at every potential customer that walks by.

BARTERING. RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. WHUMPEE.

Customers trying to get the conditioned whumpees to crack so they don't have to pay as much for them.

"I'm not sure this whumpee is trained as well as you say, I'm gonna need a demonstration"

Living weapon whumpees locked behind those stupid glass cabinets that you have to get a store attendant to unlock for you if you want to get at one

^Exotic/rare/expensive ones too

Thank you to all my friends on the Whump World server for all your suggestions and enabling me :) I probably have more too, but this was getting long lmao

@whumperofworlds | @randowhump | @kira-the-whump-enthusiast | @whumpninja

[lsgv]

Prompt #15

“What is it? What’s wrong Sidekick?” Hero rushes to shacking sidekick.

“No-nothing… I-“ sidekick tries to explain, but the sobbing doesn’t let them.

“Come here,” Hero hugs them. “It’s ok, shhh.”

Sidekick lets out muffled cries, they can’t control it.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t worry, everything is fine, you’re all right, you’re safe, shhh, it’s ok, you’re safe here.” Hero reassures, poor kid, something bad must have happened.

“I- I don’t know wha-what to do with myself anymore.” They manage to say, shackling. “I don’t-I didn’t know where to go get help, Hero! You’re my-my only hope, Hero, I feel like I’m dying inside. Please, please help me!” Sidekick cries.

Hero is shocked, they had alway thought that Sidekick was alright, how could they miss this?!

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m here, I’ll help you. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you, ok?”

Sidekick only nods and hugs Hero tighter.

“I’ll make some tea, just sit in the couch, feel like home.”

“Th-thanks” Sidekick answers sniffing.

“I’ll be right back.”

Hero prepares both tea cups and returns to Sidekick after it.

“Careful, it’s hot. “ Hero hands Sidekick their cup.

“Thanks”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Sidekick takes a sip of their tea.

“About why you came here in the middle of the night crying?”

“Oh, that… umm, I had an argument with my mom.” Sidekick says embarrassed.

“Oh, what happened? Was it that bad really?”

“Well, umm… I-I-she hit me with a pan multiple times and then gave me a speech on why I’m a failure and why I can’t be more like my brother and all of that… but umm… I also didn’t come immediately here, I, umm, I was kinda sucidal and cut the veins from my arm, then I realized I’m sort of a hero and couldn’t just die, so I stitched me up -kinda- and now I’m here and I don’t think I plan returning home.”

“What the fuck” Hero murmured. “Are you ok?! Do you need help with your wounds? Why didn’t you start there? I-I’ll go get the first aid kid, do-don’t move.”

“Hero, I’m ok, don’t worry.”

“Too late, you’re getting all patched up.”

Sidekick sighed and took a sip or their tea.

“I’m back, where would you like me to start, in the arm or…?” Hero placed the kit on the coffee table.

“The arm, please.”

“Ok, let me see… Oh my gosh, Sidekick, what the fuck did you do?! This is baaaad.” “Sorry?”

“Don’t be, it’s ok, you’re gonna be fine. Just take a deep breath, I’m going to cut the stitches you made, ok?”

“Ok.” Sidekick took a deep breath and Hero rubbed some alcohol, and that alone hurt a lot. Sidekick grunted.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. It’s almost over.” That was a lie.

Hero then started cutting the stitches, hurting Sidekick more.

“You know what, bite this down, we don’t want more accidents.” Hero handed a bandage roll to Sidekick.

“Ready?”

Sidekick nodded in agreement. Hero finishes cutting through and cleaned everything to restitch them. Sidekick’s screams were muffled but still awful to hear.

“Ok, done!” Sidekick sighed with relief at those words. “Now, did the pan leave any wound that I can help?”

“I don’t think so, I didn’t feel any blood or anything, maybe just bruises.”

”Do you want me to check?”

“No, it’s ok, thanks.”

“Ok. Come here, I’ll show you your room.”

“Room?! As in my room?”

“Yeah?” Hero was confused.

“Wow! I never had my own room! Awesome!” Sidekick was stunned by that.

“Wait, what?” Hero was shocked, they hoped they misunderstood that.

“Yeah, my siblings and I all slept in the same bed.”

“Oh, I see, well, this is all yours.”

“Really?! Thanks.” Sidekick hugged Hero.

“It’s this one.” Hero opened the door.

“Wow!.” Sidekick was impressed, it was enormous.

“Thanks Hero, really, thanks, thanks, thanks!” Sidekick hugged Hero.

“You’re welcome, Sidekick. There’s clothes in the counter and soap and everything you might need on the bathroom. Do you want dinner?”

“Thanks, but I ate at my house. Really, thanks for all.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

And with that, Hero left Sidekick in their new room.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Stick a gas mask on your bound Whumpee, tell them you’re going to sedate them, and make them wait. 

Just think of how anxious they’ll be! Constantly vigilant for a hissing noise or strange smell or anything that could show it’s started. Leave them there for hours, with nothing to do but breathe and wait, fear gnawing at them with each passing moment. Let them exhaust themselves with their fear, trying so hard to breathe shallowly that they make themselves dizzy. Let them wonder if that exhaustion is from the stress, or if the drug has already entered their system. Let them be terrified of even closing their eyes.

By the time it actually begins, Whumpee would be so anxious that they’d simply panic. Fighting desperately against their restraints, torn between begging for it to stop and holding their breath. When they are forced to inhale, it’s in sporadic, desperate gasps. Each breath feels like a defeat, each breath drags them closer and closer to oblivion. And yet it’s inevitable, a fight against their very body that they’ve no chance of winning. Their own body is being used to drag them under, and it’s terrifying. As the numbness and exhaustion starts to spread, all Whumpee can do is cry. When they finally succumb, the mask is wet with tears.

Sometimes anticipation is the worst form of torture.

[mysticsublimeperson]

(Really angsty merthur modern Au.)

NUMB

Merlin and Arthur had been dating in secret for the better part of a year, or more accurately, they had this almost play of happy married couple that they put on every couple of days in Merlins apartment.

Arthur was this big name in his industry, son of a political figure, god forgive him having any kind of scandal that could potentially ruin his bright future. On the other hand Merlin was only a technician in the company, going to school at night to have a degree in teaching. When they started... whatever the hell they were doing, Merlin was hesitant, but he has never been able to say no to Arthur.

They didn't really talk, because that would make it real, they have a nice time together in his flat, they would have dates and movie nights and dinners, but outside, it was like Merlin's presence was enough to tip Arthur over the edge. And when school became too much and they couldn't meet or the work piled up, it was worse. If Arthur was mad, he would put it on him.

This situation resulted in Merlin loosing most, if not all of his confidence, he became quiet and avoided Arthur on the workplace, when they were together it was like nothing had really changed, not much anyway, not something very obvious, maybe sometimes he would not defend himself from some comments, or would be a little too self deprecating, but the changes where subtle enough that nobody at work really noticed much.

But Merlin's friends did notice. Nobody knew that Merlin was dating someone, he had always been really private with his love live since he was outed in high school and bullied by his crush, and all of his friends respected that. but they thought that maybe it was the lack of love life that was slowly turning Merlin into this zombie, basically they thought he needed to get laid.

So they invited him to a club. Guilt tripped him into coming and got him drunk enough to finally let himself loose in the crowd.

And then...

It was nobody's fault, but that didn't make Freya, Will, and Gwaine any better. Gwaine was too drunk to be vigilant, Freya was enjoying herself with a cute girl from another country and Will had gone out for a smoke. Merlin was an adult. He was supposed to be able to care for himself. He was supposed to be able to stand up for himself, to protect himself from this situations.

Bu he was also pathetic.

So it was nobody's fault.

But his.

The guy was perfectly nice, they had been dancing and talking a bit in between the songs.

Edwin was blond, and the lights were low, and Merlin was drunk.

He had asked if Merlin had a boyfriend and Merlin didn't quite know what to answer. Then he gave Merlin a bit of his drink to try.

And Merlin has trouble remembering anything else that night.

Or at least that's what he told the therapist that comes twice a day to check on him at the hospital.

In reality he remembers a bit more than what he would want to remember.

"This is the only thing you are good for"

He remembers almost all of the comments, but that had resonated within himself. Had made him stop fighting while three other people restrained his limbs.

Because that's something Arthur had said before.

And then, everything after that, was a blur. He was numb and unresponsive and apparently that's a turn off so they contented themself with beating him and leaving him in the streets, with open wounds and ripped clothes.

Someone had called the police and an ambulance.

He was taken care in the ER, but he could not bring himself to speak, so they put him in a room and a therapist had come to talk to him, about how this must be really scary and new, how he must be in shock because usually men aren't the target of sexual assault, how even if he felt embarrassed or ashamed he should try to speak to the police, if not for himself, to prevent this from happening to another people.

And all of what they said was true. He felt all of those things, and was ashamed and scared, but there was also something they didn't know, something nobody knew, because he was not worth it, he was not enough for someone to show him off proudly, for someone to love him openly. So something must be wrong with him.

But he agreed to talk to the police.

He still couldn't bring himself to talk, even when he tried, so the therapist gave him a notepad and a pen, and accompanied him throughout the whole ordeal.

His phone had a few messages and calls, and not enough battery.

He wrote to his mother, it was the only person he could bring himself to try and explain the whole truth.

Then he wrote to his department manager, Gaius letting him know that he was going to take a sick leave.

And lastly he wrote to the group chat, where the latest messages had been a few encouraging text celebrating the assumption that he had gotten laid.

"It didn't turnt out well, I want to be alone"

He knew it wouldn't work for long but he just couldn't...

With the notepad he also asked his therapist to not let anybody but his mother in. He didn't want to deal with nobody's reaction, above all, because he didn't know how to react himself.

He thought in contacting Arthur, but quickly abandoned the idea. Arthur only wanted him on his conditions, he would probably never want Merlin again, seeing the state of him.

That made him feel lost and sad. And everything became numb.

His mother arrived early on the second day at the Hospital, after 5 hours on train, and cried hard when she saw him. He cried quietly too.

On the third day, Arthur was at his door.

His mother had opened thinking it was the nurse, and then rushed him outside to have a hushed conversation, thinking Merlin asleep. Merlin hadn't been able to properly sleep since...

He hadn't expect that. He didn't know how the hell Arthur knew where he was, or how he was able to pass through up to his door he didn't know.

He couldn't see the door, or hear what was happening, but dread pooled his insides. The other shoe was about to drop, and he didn't know what did that mean exactly.

Either or, something was going to end.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Heyo! Thought I would mildly give some thoughts I've been having.

For some reason I fucking love the idea of the caretaker being traumatized. Like maybe not even on their own, maybe when they saved whumpee the whumper managed to do shit to caretaker too? And they're trying really hard to hide it because they wanna take care of whumpee and help them recover.

Hope that wasn't worded weirdly lol

-⚜️

love caretaker who hides their own pain and fear for the sake of whumpee, especially if it's because caretaker thinks whumpee will feel safe as long as they think caretaker is strong and can take care of them.

love caretaker who curls in on themself and finally allows themself to cry when they're alone in their room at night where no one can see them break down.

[but-is-it-whumpy]

Non smoker whumpee desperately smoking a cigarette to help null the pain/calm themselves down 👌

[kimjinzzy]

Writing prompt for today.

Person A: you scare me.

Person B: what? Why?

Person A: Because I tell you things I can't even tell myself. And it scares me.

Continuee..

[dont-be-gentle-please]

Whumpee being scared of loud noises. Fireworks. Honking. A pan being dropped accidentally. Gunshots.

Whumper could take advantage of it, punishing their sweet dumb pet in the most harmless and amusing way possible. Entertaining their guest with a shaking and pale whumpee covering their ears.

[beautyconsumer]

Hi! For the drabble prompt: "I burn for what's no longer mine."

please? <3

"I burn for what's no longer mine."

Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd

Fandoms: Batman, Batfam, Under the Red Hood

Words: 415

Content and TW: angst, non graphic injury and mild blood, slight whump, character study, unreliable narrator (sort of) not like Bruce gives much chance to let Jason know what's up.

Summary:

Jason gets hurt. Batman takes care of Red Hood, it's not a bad thing for once. Jason reminiscences about it.

Jason doesn't say anything at first, not eager to break the silence, despite knowing he'd be the one to do it. Bruce was the most comfortable in the silence and Jason refused to indulge him.

"You ain't gonna say anything?" Jason says, "Wouldn't have pulled my punches back, not like you'd have," he says, grin throwing amusement in his tone, Jason tastes the blood on his teeth, his smile must show hella charming.

Bruce doesn't respond, just keep attending at his wound, retires the bandage with those metallic scissors he carries around, it separates from him heavy with blood pulling at his skin painfully, Jason hisses.

Jason is waiting for the 'I told you so' or the passive aggressive comment that would essentially mean the same.

It doesn't come.

Jason eyes Bruce, with Jason being sprawled into the shitty safe house, bleeding out in the couch Bruce looks as impersonal as ever.

He waits for the scolding, since the violence already resided and it'd be counterproductive and illogical if Bruce decided to beat him up now, the 'you went too far' must be at the tip of his tongue.

Not like those fuckers didn't deserve it, selling children like cattle. As if Jason could just sit there and do nothing.

Bruce opens his mouth, after pursing his lips painfully tight Jason feels reluctant trepidation to what's gonna come out of him. Jason's afraid it'll make his gut churn in anger and frustration because he just never got it.

Nor did he tried to, the stubborn bastard.

"Your armor," Bruce ends up saying, Jason blinks in confusion, "It doesn't cut it anymore, you'll need better equipment."

Jason blinks again, then he sighs dropping his head onto the couch, "What are we doing?"

He closes his eyes, thinks of how Bruce must be doing gymnastics in his head, trying to see the innocent little boy he once thought he knew.

Bruce must be mourning Robin in his head, latching to it and never letting go.

Jason mourns for Bruce too, what he did wanted for Bruce to be for him. The father he wanted, the one he yearned and needed back then.

Jason opes his eyes up to the grainy popcorn ceiling, the black ink shadow at his side doesn't feel like the omnipresence of the big Bat it once was, it's just a man.

It's frankly a little disappointing.

Both of them burn for what's no longer there, perhaps for what never was there at all.

[thegirlwholived1213]

Hero's eyes burned as they stared at the glowing computer screen in front of them, back arched in a position they knew would leave them stiff once this final report was in. They glanced at the clock, sighing. They could almost hear the deadline creeping closer, fingers gliding over the keys as the words flowed onto the screen. After finishing a paragraph they forced themselves to lean back in the rolling chair they sat in, groaning and stretching, elbows pushing back. They shook their hands out, intending to return to the document in front of them but paused. They listened for a moment, trying to convince themselves that the sound coming from the hall had been only a figment of their fatigue. They shrugged, wrists settling against the laptop but then they heard a new sound, now sure they weren't imagining things.

They could tell just by the rise and fall of the footsteps exactly who was coming down the hall towards the door. Even though a haze in Hero's eyes as they stood, ignoring the slight tunnel vision from the sudden change, they could tell it was Villian. They could just imagine them sauntering towards the door, a smirk plain to see. And they were right. As Villain opened the door, smirking wide, Hero sighed.

"Villian, I just got done fighting you two hours ago. Can't I get a night to myself?" Hero sighed, plopping back into their chair. Villian opened their mouth, a snarky response ready but they closed their mouth again, reconsidering their next words.

"Jeez, Hero you look like you haven't slept in days."

"Yeah, I think you cracked the case." Hero sighed, scrubbing a hand over their bloodshot eyes. They pushed their chair in, fingers grazing the keys. Villain sighed as Hero stared at the screen, gaze unfocused before they walked forward. Hero jolted, hands raising to protect themselves, but Villian only snatched the laptop.

"Hey, no I need to get that done!" They groaned, standing up and walking over to Villain. They reached out but Villain pulled the computer away last second, their other hand tapping different keys. Each time Hero reached out for their work Villain pulled it away, Hero's movements becoming sluggish as their eyes drooped. They sighed, hands dropping to their sides.

"I don't have time for thi-"

Villain rolled their eyes and shut the laptop.

"No! I need to finish that by tomorrow-"

"Look at you, you can barely stand."

"You just ruined it all, now I have to restart!"

"Don't be silly, I saved your work."

Hero huffed, frustrated and forced their eyes to stay open. "Why do you even care? Get out of my hous-"

"Oh, trust me I do not care about you or your work. I came in here expecting a good fight, not for you to start whining about a paper and barely able to stay conscious." They scolded, setting the computer down on the desk. They then reached out, taking Hero by the wrist before they even realized what was happening. Villain started pulling them out of the room while they squirmed, weak protests doing nothing against Villian's iron grip. Villain shoved them into the bedroom, and they stumbled, catching themselves on the armrest of a chair.

"Now go to sleep." Villain commanded, pulling their door closed.

Hero considered, for a moment, but shook the thought away. No, no. They really had to finish, and they couldn't just sleep. Villian was in their house. They stumbled over to the door, pulling on the handle and yanking the door open. Villian sighed, halfway out the front door.

"I won't tell you again, Go. To. Sleep."

"No, you don't get to tell me what to do! This is my house!"

They could see the annoyance and anger cross Villain's face as they walked back into the study, snatching up their laptop. They turned around and ran right into Villain who wrapped their arms around them and hoisted Hero into the air.

"Hey, Hey! Put me down!" Hero screeched, legs kicking weakly. Villain bumped the switch and turned off the study and hallway lights, Hero's protests quieting in their arms. Villain pushed through the now ajar bedroom door, plopping Hero onto the bed. Hero sighed, Villain, taking the laptop from their hands and tossing it onto the chair. They then grabbed Hero's comforter, begrudgingly pulling the covers over Hero.

"I thought you didn't care.." Hero smirked, eyes staring into Villains.

"Again, I don't, but how am I supposed to fight you if you haven't slept?"

Hero sat up again, about to protest, and Villain glared at them.

"Alright that's it."

Villain walked to the door, turning the light off before turning back and climbing onto the bed next to Hero. Hero tried to squirm away, but Villain was too quick, laying down next to them and wrapping one arm around their waist, pulling them in close and the other hand around their mouth, restraining them. Hero fought feebly for a minute, but as soon as they relaxed, fatigue gripping their consciousness, Villain loosened their grip to comfortably hug Hero close.

Every alarm was going off in Hero's head.

This is Villain. They are in your house, you aren't safe. No, no, no don't sleep.

Yet Hero found themselves melting into villain's grip. They had lived alone for so long, the stress from work and school eating away at them slowly. Now, relaxing into the arms of another, someone who only brought them more pain, Hero couldn't help but relax into their soothingly cool grasp.

Soon Hero's breathing slowed and evened, and Villain pulled the hand away from their face. They considered now leaving, knowing Hero was out for the count but changed their mind, telling themselves it would wake Hero up and they would have to do it all again. They let themselves relax, breathing coming to match Hero's

Perhaps they did care, just a little bit.