orangeduckweed - Tumblr blog

[orangeduckweed]

"you don't deserve it" as a sentence is so good. is it food? water? sleep? a bed? enrichment? seeing caretaker? bandages? painkillers? physical touch? doesn't matter. whumpee doesn't deserve it.

[orangeduckweed]

A character who's been shot is captured by enemies/bad guys. They're bleeding badly, and their captors need them alive. The bullet is removed, and the wound is poured with alcohol and bandaged tightly - none of it is done gently, and, being tied up (and maybe gagged), they can do nothing but scream and cry out in pain while enduring the rough treatment.

[orangeduckweed]

Whumpees who are chronically disconnected from their body. Whumpees who get asked if their pain is sharp or dull and literally don’t know the answer. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re cold until someone points out they’re shaking. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re hungry until they black out from standing up too fast. Whumpee who genuinely can’t tell when they’re over exerting themself because it all feels the same. It’s not that they don’t feel pain, it’s that they’ve learned to see pain as something constant and unavoidable, not something to be fixed, and they can’t distinguish between different kinds of pain anymore. They’ve learned to ignore the signals from their body while they were powerless, and now that they can prevent or fix pain they still aren’t attuned enough to their body to know how.

Just… whumpees who learned dissociation as a coping skill and now have to unlearn it. Whumpees who deeply benefited from being disconnected until they were safe, making it that much harder to unlearn

[orangeduckweed]

Whumpee’s barely alive. Their eyes are partially open, slowly blinking up and down as their gaze tracks hazy figures. They’re in an ambulance swarmed by doctors, all shouting concerning call-outs, yelling at them to hold on. 

-But whumpee seems unreactive to their voices. 

They shine a light in their eyes, they ask questions, they tug their wrist: all of it and they’re… still unresponsive. 

-Until caretaker softly calls their name.

[orangeduckweed]

The Mentalist - 7x03

[orangeduckweed]

It's Magic

This snippet is for @creweemmaeec11!

-------

Villain pressed the knife deeper into Hero's side, the blade glowing with harmful magic.

"Pathetic little thing," Villain laughed, yanking the blade out.

Hero gasped, lurching forward. They crashed down in the alleyway.

"Lesser beings like you should learn to stay out of my way," Villain said, "maybe your corpse will serve as an example."

Villain cast a spell, causing little cuts to open all over Hero's body. Hero whimpered in pain. They looked up with blurry vision as Villain strode away. Was this really how it was going to end? Killed by a magic user? Hero didn't have the energy to worry about it; they started to drift off, their head light and their limbs heavy.

----

Hero stirred to the feeling of a gentle rocking sensation.

"Mm..." they mumbled.

"Shhh," a voice soothed.

The rocking sensation stopped suddenly as Hero was laid down on a soft surface. They forced their eyes to open. They tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed them back down.

"Don't-" the voice said softly, "don't get up. You're hurt."

Hero stared up at their rescuer. Their vision cleared, and their face went pale. Hero scuttled back on the couch.

"S-Supervillain," Hero breathed.

Hero's breaths quickened, coming out in short little gasps. Their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," they said, "I promise."

Supervillain took a step closer, and Hero flinched hard, screwing their eyes shut. Instead of a harsh strike or a dark spell, Hero felt the gentle pressure of a hand on their forehead. They cracked an eye open and looked at Supervillain.

"No fever, that's good," Supervillain said.

Soft green light emanated from Supervillain's hands. Hero's breathing became deep of its own accord. Hero blinked in confusion.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hero asked.

"It's a calming spell," Supervillain explained, "I don't want you to panic."

Supervillain gestured to Hero's shirt.

"May I?" they asked.

Hero felt themselves nodding, a forced calm settling over them. Supervillain thanked them and lifted their shirt.

"It seems to be healing well," Supervillain said, "my magic made short work of your cuts, but this stab wound was pretty bad."

"Magic?"

"Yes, my healing magic. You're lucky to be alive, if I hadn't found you... well, it doesn't matter now."

Normally the mention of magic would have Hero hyperventilating, but the calming spell was weaving its way through their mind and body, keeping them pacified.

"Let me work on your wound some more, you don't deserve a scar."

Magenta light flowed from Supervillain's hands into Hero's healing wound. The area began to feel warm and fuzzy. Hero watched as the wound faded away completely, leaving nothing but smooth, undamaged skin.

"Can I get you anything?" Supervillain asked.

"I, um..."

"How about something to eat and drink?" Supervillain offered.

Hero quickly shook their head. What if they poisoned it? Then again, Supervillain probably wouldn't go through the trouble to save them just to poison them... on the other hand, though, this was Supervillain they were talking about, and-

A floating tray of food interrupted Hero's thoughts. On the tray was a bowl of chili and a cup of water. Supervillain ushered the tray over with a finger. It settled a few inches over Hero.

"It's, uh, it's waiting for you to sit up," Supervillain said.

Hero sat up cautiously. The tray, satisfied, landed gently on Hero's lap. The spoon flew into Hero's hand. Hero yelped in surprise.

"Yes, that particular spoon is rather forward," Supervillain said apologetically, "you'll get used to it."

Hero gulped. What would happen if they didn't eat? Would Supervillain kill them in a harsher way? The spoon, growing impatient, zipped out of Hero's hand, filled itself with a helping of chili, and forced its way into their mouth.

"Mm!"

Flavors danced on Hero's tongue; the chili was absolutely delicious. The spoon left Hero's mouth and grabbed another helping of chili. It waited for Hero to swallow.

"I wouldn't poison you, if that's what you're worried about," Supervillain said, "I went through a bit of trouble to save you."

Hero swallowed hesitantly. The spoon eagerly shoved the next bite of chili into their mouth. Hero grabbed the spoon and started to feed themselves. Supervillain smiled.

"Why... why did you save me?" Hero asked.

Supervillain's smile faltered, replaced with a concerned expression.

"I couldn't just leave you there," Supervillain said.

"Yes you could've! You're Supervillain! You're the most powerful mage in the city, and I'm..."

"Yes?" Supervillain prompted.

"I fight mages! I'm your enemy!" Hero blurted.

Supervillain sighed. They waved a hand and an armchair tottered forward. Supervillain sat down, snapping their fingers. A cup of tea materialized out of thin air. Supervillain took a sip of it, then set it on the saucer, which was still floating nearby.

"Why do you fight mages?" Supervillain asked, as though Hero had come in for a therapy session.

"Because they use magic! And magic is- well, it's evil isn't it?"

"Look around you," Supervillain gestured to the room, "I've been using magic nonstop since I brought you here. Have I been using it for evil?"

Hero didn't respond.

"I've done nothing but heal you and tend to you with my powers," Supervillain continued, "what I want is for magic users and non-magic users to get along and enjoy each other's gifts. Of course, not everyone shares my sentiment, such as the mage who attacked you."

Hero shook their head, trying to rationalize Supervillain's words. Supervillain sighed again and stood. The tray floated away with the empty chili bowl. The spoon followed it back to the kitchen.

"You should get some rest," Supervillain said, summoning a blanket, which draped itself over Hero, "let me know if you need anything."

Supervillain began to leave.

"Wait!" Hero said weakly.

Supervillain turned.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, Supervillain," Hero said quietly.

Supervillain cracked a small smile.

"You're welcome..."

"Hero," Hero said, "my name is Hero."

"You're welcome, Hero."

Supervillain flicked their wrist, and the lights went out. They left the room to let Hero sleep. Hero snuggled under the blanket and closed their eyes. They were still very confused about many things, but maybe magic wasn't as evil as they had thought.

Ko-fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld  @surplus-of-sarcasm

[orangeduckweed]

due to popular demand i have brought more merman aventurine

as a bonus dr ratio is having his doctor moments

[orangeduckweed]

TW: Near death, passing out, falling, fire, unwanted help, severe injuries

Villain groaned as they struggled to push themself up off the ground. It felt as if gravity had been increased tenfold upon them. The suffocating heat from the fire wasn't helping. The realization dawned on them that they could die here. They gave another push upwards from the concrete flooring and yelled in pain at the effort. They fell back to the floor, not very gracefully.

"Villain?"

They looked up. Their vision was warping from the heat, but Villain could still make out Hero standing in front of them. They spat. "Come to watch me die?" Driven on by the need to seem strong in front of their nemesis, Villain managed to prop themself up on their elbows. Even that was hard.

"No." Hero knelt next to Villain, who pushed away from Hero.

"Then why are you here? Fuck off and leave me alone." It was a struggle to keep the pain out of their voice, but they masked it with frustration.

"I'll leave you alone when you get up."

"I..." Villain didn't really know what to say to that.

"You can't, can you?"

"That's bullshit. I could get up if I wanted to." Villain lazily layed fully back on the ground, trying not to look as if they had just become too tired to continue holding themself up.

"Then do it." When Villain didn't move, Hero went on. "You can't even get up to save your own life. You want me to leave??"

"Yes." Villain snapped. "And I can get up. I'm just... choosing not to."

Villain gasped in pain as Hero turned them onto their back without warning.

"What the hell was that for??" Villain squeezed their eyes shut, silently begging their body to stop the intense pins and needles sensation covering them.

"I don't think you could get up if your life depended on it— which it currently does. This building is coming down."

"Why do you care??" Villain batted away Hero's hand as they went to move them again. "Dont fucking touch me again."

"You're not denying it."

"I've denied it three times already!"

"Two. You've denied it two times. And I still don't believe you. If you can get up, then do it."

"No."

"If you don't get up in the next five seconds, I'm going to pick you up."

"You are not."

"Three seconds."

"Fine! Fine, okay??" Villain started to push themself up again, resting on their elbows for a moment before pushing further. A sharp pain split down their side and they fell back to their elbows with a whimper.

"That's it. We don't have time for this."

"No—" Villain groaned, trying to move away from Hero again, but they set themself off balance. Their head hit the concrete as they lost their delicate balance on their elbows and fell. The world went dizzy for a moment.

The moment was long enough for Hero to scoop Villain into their arms. Villain didn't have the strength to mask their pain anymore and let out a strangled scream as Hero picked them up.

"How far did you fall from?" Hero stood, holding Villain as firmly as possible to prevent at least some movement.

"Put me down— fuck— put me down—" Villain's words were starting to slur together, but they didn't dare to fight Hero's hold. This hurt so much worse than just lying on the ground.

"Villain, how far did you fall?" Hero started moving out of the building. "You need to talk to me. Tell me where you fell from." They insisted when Villain didn't answer.

"T-two... no... I think thr-three stories up... I..." Villain didn't finish the thought. Their leg twitched and their whole body tensed as their breath caught in their throat.

As they moved away from the fire, the world naturally grew dimmer. Villain heard part of the building collapse, but they didn't realize it had been where they were laying two minutes prior. The world continued to dim even after they were an appropriate distance from the fire.

"He-Hero..."

"Villain? Just hang in there, okay."

"Mmm..." Villain's eyebrows furrowed as they tried to stay conscious. The world continued to dim anyway, and soon the world went completely black.

[orangeduckweed]

Body Aches Sickfic Prompts🤒😫:

1: Constantly clinging to caretaker because everything hurts, they're miserable, and they don't know what to do with themselves.

2: Crying any time something cold touches their sensitive body.

3: Being extra sensitive to bumping into things, or to rough touch.

4: Just straight up inconsolable crying because they feel bad all over and they're just fed up.

5: Cuddling with caretaker in a warm shower/bath.

6: Being fed pain meds by caretaker.

7: Whining while getting a massage from caretaker, because even the lightest touch hurts.

8: Curled up in bed, not wanting to move and swaddled in blankets.

9: Being super uncomfortable on a car ride because every bump is painful.

10: Making a bed for themselves in whatever the warmest room in the house happens to be.

[orangeduckweed]

I love a dazed shell-shocked man in handcuffs covered in blood that isn't his own being led away by heavily armed guards. Right?

[orangeduckweed]

snippet #2 - the villain surprises the hero

warning: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, harmful behavior, touchy villain (not nsfw), depictions and descriptions of physical violence, may be uncomfortable or triggering for some readers, reader discretion is advised.

The hero had been captured again, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and beaten to a pulp until the only thing they could taste, smell, feel, was their blood.

It was routine at this point.

Get captured, refuse to give up information, get a few new scars before their team showed up. At a certain point, these so-called villains became predictable. None of them truly scared the hero anymore.

The hero’s head came up at the sound of a door creaking open then slamming shut, footsteps following behind. They clenched their fists against their restraints, sighing, preparing themselves for another round of mediocre scare tactics.

The footsteps of the person started to become louder and louder, the hero could hear them slowly circling their chair like they were tracking prey.

They stopped right behind the hero, their breath tickling their ear, making the hero shiver behind their blindfold.

Their captors before had never gotten this close, at least without a weapon or some weak verbal threats. This felt… different somehow. It made the hero a bit antsy. Their chest became heavier as they listened to the sounds of the person’s even breathing.

Their gut was trying to tell them something.

Something was wrong-

Their heart stopped when they heard the person’s whispered voice.

“Hello, Darling.”

No.

The hero frantically jerked at their restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it only made the rope dig more into their body. Loud and panicked sounds escaped them as their heart started to beat in their head.

The person only chuckled at their attempts to free themselves.

No. No.

They— there… it’s not possible.

“Did you miss me?”

No. They needed to get out. Tears started to seep through their blindfold, as well as sweat as they jerked their head around. They couldn’t get out, they couldn’t even see where they were. The hero was frantic, horribly panicked, and the villain reveled in it.

The villain was the only one who could evoke genuine terror from their hero. Turn them into a screaming, begging mess at their feet.

The villain trailed their hand delicately over the hero’s neck, wrapping their fingers around them and stroking. The hero let out a choked whimper, their body completely shivering.

“You never thought you’d feel this again, did you?” The villain smiled, “My touch making you deliciously crazy?”

No. They didn’t. The villain was supposed to be dead.

The hero’s breathing grew more erratic by the second, more and more tears streamed down their face, mixing with the dried blood and stinging their fresh shallow cuts.

They saw their dead body. They buried them in that grave. They stuck that knife in their chest so many times they lost count as they watched the life drain out of them. How?

“It’s been far too long, my love,” the villain said, “I think we should relive some good memories.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out and tried to wiggle their way out of their restraints again and again and again. It was a pity, the sight of someone trying to escape the inevitable.

The villain started to slowly lift the hero’s ripped sleeves, rolling them to expose their skin. No. No. No. Anything but that.

The villain watched in awe as their hero completely lost it and tried so hard to escape them, even though their hero was smart enough to know there was no hope. No one was coming to save them.

“Sh, sh, sh,” the villain cooed, their hand sickenly stroking the hero’s neck like comfort, “There’s no need for that, you know you're not escaping me.”

The villain trailed their hands softly up their hero’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They loved how their hero tried to push them off, completely losing it when the villain finally touched their scars.

They had dreamed of touching these sensitive things again. The deep scars they left all over. They hated the scars others dared to leave. They already killed those others who dared to call themselves ‘villains’, who dared to touch the hero. Only they were allowed to touch their little hero like this.

“All our fun times, etched into your skin,” the villain said in awe. Their hero tried to get out of their hold, their sobs echoing across the room.

The scars felt different this time, some of them. The hero must have tried to rid themselves of their marks, but failed miserably. How cute.

Their hero should know better than to try to rid themselves of the villain.

They continued to trace over the uneven skin, the memories of the many long lovely torture sessions they subjected their hero to flooding their brain, and they were sure their hero was reliving it too.

“Stop,” the hero whispered, choking on their sobs, “Please-

“Just like my scars,” they cut in, pressing delicate kisses to the skin making the hero’s body shiver, “I will never leave you, love.”

It has been so long since the hero felt that terror, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins, their heartbeat reaching heights that could kill them. Their breathing was so rapid, their body was in a state of complete shock and panic.

They forgot what it felt like to be terrified, and they wished it stayed that way. They thought they made sure it would.

“But, you did leave me,” The villain dug into one of their scars, making them gasp, reopening it and letting their hero’s blood trickle down their fingers.

“You left me to rot in the ground,”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Let the world forget about me.”

The villain dug in deeper. The hero cried out.

“Let yourself forget about me,” the villain whispered, their breath over the hero’s mouth.

“I’m- sorry.. please— I’ll do-“

The hero jerked and sobbed again as the villain ripped off their blindfold, the light seering their eyes.

“Your begging is pitiful,” they spat.

The hero’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light as they looked up into the villain’s. They jerked their head away. Those same eyes haunted them when the hero slept, even when they thought they were buried deep underground.

The villain grabbed the hero’s chin, digging their nails into the skin and forced their head back up.

“You really thought you could get rid of me?” the villain snapped, venom lacing every syllable.

The hero sniffled, their eyes completely bloodshot from their tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the villain whispered with crazy in their eyes, “and neither are you.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out as exhaustion took over their body. Their body stopped fighting, just twitching every so often from the adrenaline. They were slowly accepting their fate.

“I’m keeping you, Darling,” the villain smiled, stroking the hero’s chin, “and I promise you, this time, you’ll never be able to forget me.”

The hero whimpered a slur of incoherent words in response.

The villain loved their hero like this, shaking and on the verge of insanity knowing what things the villain was about to subject them to. It was a sight the villain was going to come back to every single day. They planned to come back every night, keep them tied up, bloodied and bruised, completely helpless and at their mercy. Then afterwards, they’ll really get to work on molding their hero into perfection.

The villain mercilessly tied the hero’s blindfold into a gag, enjoying the way the hero jerked in response, and took a syringe out. Their hero’s eyes winded, as they tried to plead behind the fabric, but the thing was too tight.

They sobbed. The hero knew what was coming next. They remembered, those memories were burned inside of them. Cut into their skin.

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, kissing their hero’s tear and blood-soaked cheek, “I’ll be all you ever think about soon enough.”

They could only cry and try to plead through their eyes, shaking their head. The villain though had no mercy for them whatsoever.

Their hero betrayed them. They stuck a knife in their heart when the villain let themselves believe someone actually cared for them, they finally let themselves trust and their little hero shattered it.

They stuck the syringe right in their scar. Their hero let out a scream of terror covered by the fabric.

Now it was only fair they would shatter them in return.

[orangeduckweed]

small appreciation post for collapsing while still conscious

ok as much as i love a good faint im also a huge sucker for when a character collapses but is still conscious, maybe just dizzy or weak

stumbling or tripping on something and falling to their knees, too weak to stand up again

weak from fever or low blood sugar and failing to get out of a chair, lying on their back or side while the dizziness subsides (i actually had a fic planned for this at one point)

slumping into a chair because they cant stand anymore

reaching out to a table or wall for support and sliding to the floor (!!!)

sitting on the floor already but they slump to the side out of exhaustion

that thing where they throw their arm across their eyes out of exhaustion or dizziness (honestly one of my favorites)

there are probably a lot more im missing rn so feel free to add on!!

[orangeduckweed]

I’m a sucker for whumpees who go too far in an attempt to be strong or useful and then end up hurting themselves. I have always had this scenario in my head where there’s some sort of apocalypse and Whumpee is sort of the “physically weak” one of the encampment. They are so frustrated at their lack of being useful that they attempt to prove themselves by doing something very rash, like going on their own to prove they can take care of themselves, or physically training too hard. They fall ill, they get lost all alone, they break a bone, etc. and it’s someone from the camp who finds them and saves them. Whumpee is absolutely devastated that they would become such a burden because of their own insecurity, but Caretaker shows them that they ARE useful, maybe Whumpee is super intuitive, knows how to cook or forage, is a positive light to the others in a time of darkness.

[orangeduckweed]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[orangeduckweed]

How about a hero who accidentally kills a cat and feels bad about it so they bury it but villain finds them? Love your writing!

The hero was thoroughly, miserably, soaked and shivering on the ground. Dirt coated their palms, under their fingernails and on their knees.

They dragged a hand down their face. Fought off a wretched sob.

Their fingers shook as they set the flower down on the tiny mound.

Behind them, the sirens on an ambulance cut off, plunging them into silence. If they thought about it, they could feel the blood seeping from their side. They could hear the sound of rubble shattering to the ground echo in their ears.

And the screaming.

They could hear that, too.

They didn’t think about it.

A sob worked it’s way out of their chest, painful in their throat as they tried to swallow it.

“I’m sorry,” they choked. Their voice cracked. “It was—an accident, and I know that doesn’t…”

They had to bite their lip to stop another sob.

“Praying?” the villain questioned from behind, voice gentle.

The hero shrugged one bruised shoulder.

“No.”

The villain stepped around, facing them. Their eyes dropped to the flower, the fresh dug dirt on the hero’s hands. The grave.

Their expression softened.

“Ah.”

“You can leave now.”

“Praying for forgiveness, or praying for salvation.”

“I said you can leave now,” the hero snapped. They swiped away an angry tear, dirt smearing on their cheek.

The villain didn’t move.

“Why are you still here?” They bared their teeth in something they hoped was enough of a message to get the villain to leave. They had a feeling it was something pathetic, instead.

“You were crying,” the villain said it like it was an answer.

If the hero thought about it too hard, it was.

They didn’t think about it.

“Burst water line,” they gestured haphazardly to the demolition behind them, the half-flooded street. “No tears, no praying, and certainly no need for you—”

The villain’s expression shifted. “I told you that you needed to microdose your power.”

The hero froze.

“Shut up,” they hissed. “Shut up—“

“You wanted to quit, and I respected that. You have enough scars for a lifetime, we both do. But I warned you. I told you that if you didn’t use your power, it would use you, and it would be an ugly, violent thing.”

The hero shook their head mutely, words stuck under their tongue.

“And you thought you knew better,” the villain continued like it wasn’t breaking the hero’s heart. “You thought you could go through life and keep it bottled inside you and ignore the pressure.”

Their gaze flicked to the wreckage the hero knew lay behind them.

“Did you know better, hero?” Their voice was soft and dangerous. “Did you?”

“I said I was sorry!” It clawed its way out of the hero, and it wasn’t a scream, but it was close. “Okay? I know I messed up. You don’t need to taunt me with it, I already—“

The hero’s gaze settled onto the grave once more.

“I already regret it,” they whispered. “You can’t make me any more sorry than I already am.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

“Then you’re failing spectacularly,” the hero snorted derisively.

The villain’s jaw ground.

“I’m trying to make you understand that this would have happened regardless of what you did. And that it’s not your fault.”

The hero blinked.

“You just said that I—“

“I said you thought you could fight your power and win. And you were,” the villain conceded. “You might have made it another month. Maybe two.”

The hero had never seen the villain so angry. “But then someone shot you, off duty and in civilian clothes,” they seethed. “The fallout is on them, not you.”

“I killed a cat,” the hero managed roughly. They blinked back tears.

The villain shook their head.

“You were off-duty. A civilian.”

“I could never be just a civilian, you know that.”

“Just because you were the bullet does not mean you were the one who pulled the trigger.”

“You aren’t making any sense.”

“I am,” the villain corrected. “But you’re grieving, and bleeding, and suffering from a massive energy drop, so you can’t see it yet.”

The hero let the villain pull them to their feet, dirt smearing between their two hands.

“You want forgiveness?” The villain ducked their head to meet the hero’s eyes. “I forgive you.”

The hero forgot how to breathe.

“You can’t just do that.”

“I can do whatever I want. And what I want is for you to stop crying.”

The hero snorted again, but it was lighter this time.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re a civilian.”

The hero shook their legs out. When they went to turn back to the grave, the villain caught their chin, turning them away with soft fingers.

“I forgive you,” they said solemnly, as if they had never said anything so important. “They do, too.” They inclined their head just slightly towards the grave.

For once, as their chest collapsed in on itself, the hero believed them

[orangeduckweed]

When the standoffish member of the team is the only one who seems to care about the whumpee's illness/injury and grudgingly sidles in to help if no one else will 💖💞💓💗💕

[orangeduckweed]

Hero couldn't stand anymore, weakened and aching down to their bones. Destruction and ruin laid all around them, and they felt hopeless.

Standing above them proudly, Villain grinned, delighted and smug.

"Are you going to get back up? Keep trying to defeat me?" Villain's voice was deep and sonorous, full of amusement.

Taking a deep breath, Hero's chest ached. They knew if they tried to stand again, their legs would only give out.

"Please." The word came out desperately, exhausted.

"Aww, are you begging now?" Villain cood, stepping closer to Hero, making them tilt their chin to meet Villain's gaze. "Are you begging me to spare these people? Your friends? Begging me to make the pain go away?"

Villain's touch was deceptively soft as they cupped Hero's jaw, pulling their face closer to where they stood. Hero felt shame swirl deep inside their gut, reaching into their chest and threatening to squeeze their heart.

Hero nodded mutely, and Villain smiled even wider. Their gaze looked possessive, hungry.

"Beg, then." Villain's voice was soft, and they moved one hand from cupping Hero's jaw to brush a stray lock of hair from their face. They lifted a thumb, running it across Hero's bottom lip, smearing the blood that was there.

Lifting their thumb to their own mouth, Villain tasted the blood, making sure Hero was watching, before speaking again.

"Beg, my dear."