syncopein3d

[syncopein3d]

Ordered Rest

This series is so self-indulgent, and I don't even care. I enjoy it.

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Warnings: Hospital

Watching both of his roomates physically degrade made Logan fall apart himself. Stress always made his condition worse. His body is weak, so any added pressure made everything harder.

He tried pushing through it for the sake of his friends. Willow is near death and Athena isn't eating. I can't be weak right now. But, he couldn't last much longer than them if he didn't take a break.

During one of his visits, a nurse pulled him to the side, "Can you tell me about the girl who has been spending the night here?"

Logan shifted his weight around, his legs already strained from the effort of standing, "Her name is Athena. She's severely underweight and—" he wobled dangerously, threatening to fall over.

The nurse grasped his elbows, supporting Logan's weight, "Whoa there, let's get you somewhere to sit. I shouldn't have made you stand."

When Logan was eventually settled into a chair, his crutches resting across his lap, he started again. "Athena is severely underweight and has basically stopped eating since Willow went missing two weeks ago."

"Is there anything we can do to help her?"

"Right now, she'll probably only really eat when Willow is eating too. But seeing as she's also not eating much, I'm not sure." Logan burried his head in his hands, his fingers digging through his unkempt hair.

"We'll do our best. But for now I need you to go home and rest. Staying here and walking around will only make things worse. We have your number on file, I'll make sure you're informed."

"Are you sure?" In that moment, Logan felt all od his exhaustion pile on. He hadn't been able to relax for days, and a break sounded heavenly.

[Can you meet me at the hospital? I don't know if I can make it home by myself.] Logan texted Caelum, who had become Logan's support through this mess.

[Sure. Give me 10 minutes]

[syncopein3d]

WoW Birthday Whump Day 12

Prompt: Magic exhaustion / Collapsed / “So tired…” Content: fantasy whump, killing monsters, blood

“There’s too many of them!”

It’s almost impossible to hear Shayah’s words over the roar of wind and screeching of monsters. Onthyes looks over at her and is smacked in the face by a leathery wing. He’s not quite sure what these things are - bats from hell, maybe. Each one about the length of his arm, equipped with sharp fangs and claws and huge wings. 

He cuts the bat out of the air with a swing of his sword, just in time to catch sight of Shayah going down under a pile of them. He rushes towards her, only to be blocked off by three more, crowding him and gnashing their teeth. 

“Cover your ears!”

Onthyes has fought by Ventis’s side long enough to do so without asking questions. He freezes, dropping his sword, clamping his hands over his ears, and getting low to the ground. He hopes Shayah is able to do the same.

Even with his ears covered, the sound is deafening. Onthyes opens his eyes, squinting against blinding purple light as a storm explodes from Ventis’s body. Lightning arches out from him at all angles, leaping from bat to bat as they scramble, slamming into each other blindly and clawing at their own ears. There’s a series of thawcks as they fall to the ground, and then silence. 

Onthyes stands and collects his sword, his ears ringing. He goes to Shayah first, praying that Ventis had been able to intervene before the bats tore her throat out. 

She’s already sitting up, and Onthyes lets out a sigh of relief. She’s covered head to toe in scratches and her ears are bleeding, but nothing seems leathal. 

“I’m alright,” she says before Onthyes can even ask. “Nice one, breezy. Didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Me neither…”

Onthyes turns sharply, concerned at the weakness in Ventis’s voice, just in time to watch him fall to the ground.

Shayah curses in orcish as Onthyes dashes to his side, collecting his limp body from the pile of bodies he had landed on and holding him in his lap. 

Ventis’s face is pale, his eyes fluttering and barely open, his nose starting to leak blood. 

“Ventis.” Onthyes cups his cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “Can you hear me?”

His brow scrunches and he lets out a low groan. “So tired…” 

Onthyes would rather see him exhausted than injured any day. “I’m sure you are, my friend. That was impressive.”

“Mmm. Thanks.” His eyes fall closed completely.

Onthyes presses his fingers to Ventis’s pulse, just to be sure. It’s weak but still there. 

“Just sleep,” he says softly, using the already red sleeve of his shirt to wipe blood from under Ventis’s nose. “We’ve got you.”

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump

@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump

@looptheloup

#whump loss of consciousness #loss of consciousness whump

[syncopein3d]

Do they want like. Where someone beats up their servant and then takes care of their injuries? Or where someone's in a toxic relationship where they're allowing their servant to beat them out of guilt for past wrongs? What's the intended dynamic?

Do you have any servant whump recs? Preferably with hurt/comfort and recovery.

i don't really know anything fitting that description!

[syncopein3d]

me rn (i finished most of WoW's birthday whump in a day)

[syncopein3d]

you have good taste in icon photos. I really enjoy taking about whump with you. Your prompts are delicious

awwwww!!!! this is so sweet oh goodness thank you so much <333

[syncopein3d]

[syncopein3d]

Hi! I really love all the small details you put into your work and they really add to the story. I'm wondering what the IV 's in some of the drawings are for. Fluids, drugs or something else? And how to the handlers/medical staff make sure the needle goes in right when dealing with an uncooperative subject? Is it worth the hassle for them?

(Sorry if this sounds like an interrogation, I'm just really excited to know more about the story!)

Could be some fluid, could be some drug.

Entity is experienced combat medic so not a big problem compare to saving some life in the middle of fight and bullet fly over head

as much as hassle standard EMT have to deal with uncooperative PT I guess?

[syncopein3d]

The best part of 40k

[syncopein3d]

Mana drain curse. Black snakey strands of power wind through the victim's body and pool in their chest to create the nexus through which mana flows out of them and into their tormentor. Does it hurt, so that they curl in on themselves and clutch at their chest? Does it feel like having blood drawn, where there's an odd little pinch and they suddenly feel lighter and more tired? Up to you, but it's easily concealed and the torturer can take power from them any time without warning, without even being in the room.

Magical torture ideas? My brain is tired.

[syncopein3d]

Always

Villain tried to shut the door, but Henchman was too fast, catching it by its edge before the gap could fully disappear.

“Found you," they said, half threat, half croon. They shoved into the house, knocking Villain back a few steps.

"What are you doing here?" Villain said, catching themself on the coatrack and nearly pulling it down on top of themself.

Henchman reached over Villain's head to steady it and then stayed there. Peeling back the nonchalance plastered over their shame. Taking in their altered form.

"Where have you been?" they countered, soft, knuckle raised gently against Villain's cheek before abruptly dropping again.

"Here. There. What does it matter? You found me." Villain ducked under their arm and hobbled slowly to the couch. Henchman's heavy step traveled in the opposite direction, followed by the click of the door closing, then the steps tramped back toward them. By the time Villain had plopped down on the couch cushion Henchman was kneeling in front of them. For an instant, it was like nothing had changed. Total fealty.

Villain stopped their hand short before they could touch Henchman's head. It felt wrong when they were so utterly weak. There had always been a balance, Henchman so physically intimidating, and Villain thrumming with destructive power. The upper hand, the reason for such devotion, had been crystal clear. Now, Villain could wither and scatter under Henchman's expectations.

"You completely disappeared." Henchman laid their head in Villain's lap anyway. "You were hurt and I got worried. But you didn't answer my calls. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. It's taken me 8 months to track you down. It's like you were trying to avoid me."

Villain sighed, dropping their rigidness and succumbing to the urge to stroke back Henchman's hair. It was just as soft as they remembered, thick and fluffy like an animal pelt. They twirled a piece above their ear, but avoided Henchman's watching eyes as they responded, "I was done for and everyone knew it. It was better to step down and disappear than wait for someone else to assassinate me."

Henchman reached up and took loose hold of Villain's wrist. Why was their gaze so earnest? Didn't they know? Didn't they feel the difference in them? Shouldn't that past awe and adoration be visibally dying at the sight of them?

"I would've protected you," Henchman said.

"I didn't want you to. I have too many enemies. You would have been hurt."

"Then you should've told me. I would've come with you."

"I didn't want that either."

Henchman flinched, and Villain was struck with a stab of guilt. That wasn't entirely true. Of course, Villain had wanted Henchman with them. Of course, it was agony knowing they couldn't even say goodbye. But anything but a clean break would have been worse. They couldn't just ask Henchman to give up their position, goals, and standing for life of nothing. No, more than that, they couldn't bear to see Henchman's devotion grow into disdain. The loss of their powers was the loss of their worth. Henchman would've clung to the threads of their memories but ultimately, Villain would have failed them.

Henchman dropped Villain's wrist but huddled in a little closer. "And...now that I'm here?"

Villain's heart panged. "You should go back."

Henchman hugged tight around Villain's legs, almost like a lifeline. "Why?"

Moment of truth. Time to make this permanent. “I’m not going back.”

“I know.”

“I can’t. I’m ruined. Those heroes took everything when they stripped me and left me for dead."

"I know."

"And even if I wasn’t. I still wouldn’t go back. I was getting tired. Losing focus. That's how they got me in the first place."

“I know.”

Why did they keep saying that? Obviously, they did not know if they could be so casual. This was the rest of their life!

“Henchman, I can’t give you anything anymore. I don't have the influence or power to protect you. I can't bring about a bright new world. I'm spent. A pathetic shell. You should find another person to serve. I'll never be able to give you what you want."

Henchman turned their head up at them. "Why would I want any of that?"

Villain choked. "Don't you?"

"Maybe when I was a kid. Things change over a couple decades." They lifted their head and sank back on their heels. "Your powers were amazing. It's true that they drew me to you. But I never stuck around for that. Or for the status. You're just so..." Henchman broke off, face crinkling as they searched for the word. Finally, they shrugged. "I don't know; it's too big. You spent so long taking care of me. Looking out for me. Giving me chances I didn't think I deserved. Let me do the same for you." Henchman took their hand in both of theirs, hesitantly kissing one knuckle. "Just let me be with you."

Villain flushed a little. They'd always been close. Close enough for feelings. Close enough for both to recognize it in the other. But there had never seemed to be a right time to acknowledge them out loud.

"Do you really not want me here?" Henchman said at Villain's extended silence.

"You'd be ok with a normal life?" Villain pressed. "No powers, no schemes, no money, just me?"

"It's always been just you."

Villain slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Henchman. "Of course, I want you here."

They couldn't keep their voice from cracking in the middle and the next thing they knew they were folded up in Henchman's arms. They melted immediately. All the shame, fear, and frustration seemed to fade right out of them.

"I love you."

Henchman jolted a little, but as they pressed their head to Villain's, Villain saw a smile tugging at their lips. "Good. Then I'll always, always stay."

[syncopein3d]

Sick, Fainted Hero Request- Part 2

Part 1

Hero drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. Every time they felt like they were waking up, sleep or something akin to it would drag them back down. Hero was just coming to again when they felt something cold on their forehead. It felt so good against their hot skin, even though the rest of them felt like they were freezing.

“Mm,” Hero mumbled.

“Thank goodness,” a voice echoed distantly.

“Hm?”

Hero strained to open their eyes; they didn’t want to fall back under again. When they opened them, they saw Villain standing over them.

“Vil’n?” Hero slurred.

“Hey,” Villain said, “I was getting worried back there, how are you feeling?”

Hero went to answer, but they were interrupted by their own coughing. Villain sat them up and rubbed soothing circles into their back as they coughed. When their coughing spell subsided, Hero got a proper look around. They were in a large bed, in a larger room they didn’t recognize. There was one window with the curtains drawn back to let some light in, and a wet compress that must have fallen on the bed when Hero sat up.

“I-I’m cold,” Hero finally said, “and I’m dizzy, and I keep coughing, and my nose is stopped up.”

“I would say you have a pretty bad head cold,” Villain said, “but given that you fainted earlier and haven’t woken up until a day later, I would say it’s something more serious.”

Villain grabbed a medicine bottle that was on the nightstand and poured some of the contents onto a spoon.

“Here,” Villain said, “this’ll help with your cough.”

Hero parted their lips and let Villain feed them the medicine. It tasted bitter as it went down their throat. Villain gave them a glass of water to chase it, which Hero took gratefully and drank.

“Thank you,” Hero rasped, pushing off the covers, “I think I should get going now.”

“Excuse me?” Villain asked, maneuvering Hero back into the bed, “are you out of your mind? You’re not leaving until you’ve recovered. How do you think being sick works?”

“But Villain,” Hero said, “I have things to do. Crimes to fight, civilians to help. I can’t stop just because I’m a little- ack!” Hero began coughing once again, unable to finish their sentence.

“Mmhm,” Villain said, pushing Hero into a laying position and pulling the covers up to their chin, “I’d love to see you try to fight crime with a fever of one hundred and two, and a cough that won’t let you get more than a few words out at a time. That’s a lie, I would most certainly not want to see you do that, because you would fail miserably. Stay put and let someone take care of you.”

Villain headed to the doorway and turned to look at Hero.

“The bathroom is through that door,” Villain said, pointing, “don’t get up for anything else. I’ll bring you some soup in a little bit.”

With that, Villain left the room, leaving Hero to rest.

Keep reading

[syncopein3d]

Fight

This is another dark one guys, it's dealing with suicide again, no one dies but if this topic triggers you, then you shouldn't read this one.

“Come on!” Hero shouted, “is that all you’ve got!? Hit me!”

Villain tilted their head, their dark energy-filled fist freezing mid-strike.

“Why are you taunting me?” they asked slowly.

“Why do you care!?” Hero demanded, “do it, you know you want to- I’ve been a pain in your side since they day we met! Or are you going soft?”

Villain’s eyes narrowed. They shot an energy beam right at them. Hero didn’t move. The beam hit them squarely in the chest, knocking them to the ground.

They didn’t even try to dodge, Villain thought.

“What was that?” Hero bit out, staggering to their feet, “I thought you were a villain, not a sissy!”

Hero and Villain stood there for far too long before Hero growled, throwing an ice beam at them. Villain easily side-stepped it.

They’re barely fighting back, Villain thought.

“Hero, stop.” Villain said.

“What, you don’t wanna fight me now?” Hero asked, “am I making it too easy for you? You don’t wanna kill me unless it’s when I’m at my prime, is that it? You’re sick. If you won’t fight me, I’ll find someone who will!”

Hero turned to leave, but Villain struck, pinning them to the ground with a blanket of dark energy.

“No.” they said, striding up to them.

Tears brimmed in Hero’s eyes.

“Do it,” they said quietly, “please.”

“You’re not well,” Villain said, lifting Hero into their arms, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve never wanted to kill you, and I’m not going to let you kill yourself either.”

Hero struggled in the cocoon of dark energy, writhing in Villain’s hold. The tears were falling freely now.

“Villain, please,” they begged, “please let me go, please don’t make me stay here any longer, I can’t do it-”

“You are stronger than this,” Villain snapped, “and you will get through this. You don’t get to quit.”

Hero opened their mouth to beg some more when they felt a pinch in their neck. A syringe coated in Villain’s power whizzed over their head and back into Villain’s pocket.

“No!” Hero shouted.

Villain began to walk back to their base, holding Hero tight. Hero continued to thrash around in their grip, until eventually their eyes fluttered shut, and their limbs fell still. Villain watched the steady rise and fall of their chest as though they might stop at any moment.

…

Hero stirred on a soft surface. Their eyes fluttered open, though their vision was too blurry to make out any surroundings. They had been wrapped in a plush blanket. Their vision started to clear, and they made out Villain’s figure, their arms folded across their chest, a concerned frown on their face.

Hero bolted upright in bed. They scrambled to untangle themselves from the bedding and stood up. The action sent a wave of dizziness through them but they somehow managed to steady themselves. They started to march right up to Villain when-

“Gah!”

Hero banged their head against a thick layer of glass. They put their palm up to it as if that would make it disappear, eyes going wide.

“What is this!?” Hero demanded.

“An intervention,” Villain replied coolly, “I went through a lot of trouble to make this cell a comfortable living space and not, well, a cell.”

Hero’s eyes darted around the cell wildly. The thick glass wall in front of them had a keypad only accessible from Villain’s side, and the other, stark white walls had been hastily decorated with things like a television, a shelf full of books, and a small intercom panel. There were cameras at all angles, and there was a doorway that led to a tiny bathroom.

“This is ridiculous,” Hero spat, “you thinking keeping me prisoner is going to give me a will to live? You’re crazy! If anything, this is just going to make it worse!”

Villain didn’t respond. They just stared at Hero, whose hands had clenched into fists at their sides.

“Let me out,” they said.

“I’ve contacted some of my colleagues,” Villain said, “one of them retired from villainy and is now pursuing what I’m told is a very fulfilling career in psychotherapy. You’ll be talking to them tomorrow.”

Hero stared slack-jawed at Villain.

“Now you’re telling all your friends about my problems!? I swear Villain, as soon as I get out of this I’ll-”

“You’re not getting out of this.” Villain said flatly.

Hero cursed loudly, tears brimming in their eyes.

“I don’t want to be here, don’t you get that!? I’m sick of all of this, I don’t want-”

“I don’t care what you want,” Villain said sharply, “I’m not going to lose you. I don’t care if you never speak to me again; as long as you’re still alive, I’ll be satisfied.”

Villain turned to leave, heading to the stairs. Hero slammed their fist into the glass.

“Villain! Get back here!”

Villain ignored them, going up the stairs and out of sight.

“This isn’t your call to make! Villain! Let me go!”

Hero screamed in frustration. They punched the wall with an icy fist that did nothing but make their knuckles throb. They looked around the cell for anything they could use to escape. There was nothing. In a final act of desperation, they formed an ice shard, intending to jam it into their chest, but just as the tip made contact with their skin, it melted.

Hero looked at their wrist, seeing a power-suppressing bracelet there. They sobbed in defeat, crumpling to the floor. They hugged themselves, letting out every guttural cry they had been holding in for the last month.

Upstairs, Villain watched the scene unfold through the security feed. As Hero wailed, Villain’s heart shattered. Looks like they were going soft after all.

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

#whump loss of consciousness #loss of consciousness whump

[syncopein3d]

Update I attempted to remove my hand

Trying to finish my Warm One post on my phone so I can get on to this other Broken World idea I've had but here's the thing

Yep. This is the thing, her name is Misumena. She requires at least one hand or her Majesty will be very put out.

[syncopein3d]

WoW Birthday Whump Day 7

Prompt: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / “Is that blood?!”

“Whumpee…” Caretaker mumbles into their phone, squinting at the light-up clock on their nightstand. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Hey, Caretaker. Yeah I know. I’m sorry. You just weren’t answering your door. Can you let me in?”

Caretaker sits up at that, wrapping their favorite blanket around their shoulders as they make their way out of their room and towards the door. “What do you mean? You’re at my place?”

Squinting out of the peephole, Caretaker can indeed see Whumpee standing there, dressed in only sweatpants and a black hoodie on a snowy night. Caretaker ends the call and opens the door.

“You idiot. Come inside right now.”

Whumpee’s hood is up, so Caretaker can’t see many of the details of their face, especially with their glasses still on the nightstand where they’d left them. Their face is scarily blank as they stumble inside, leaning heavily on the wall and just barely managing to kick off their soaked sneakers.

“Thanks, Caretaker. You’re the best,” Whumpee says, their words slurred.

Caretaker grabs their glasses as they lead Whumpee into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Then they busy themselves grabbing some clean towels down from the top shelf of their closet - pool towels, stuffed away for winter. Caretaker is in desprete need of doing laundry.

When they turn around and get a good look at Whumpee, they freeze.

“Look, it isn’t as bad as it-”

“Is that blood?!”

Whumpee blinks slowly before they shove their hands into their pockets, but Caretaker had already caught sight of their bruised and bloodied knuckles. “Probably…”

“Take your clothes off.”

Whumpee just stands there, not reacting. Caretaker closes in on them, not wasting time as they start trying to pull Whumpee’s hoodie off.

“Okay okay I’m doing it!” Whumpee groans, weakly shoving Caretaker away. “I can undress myself.”

Caretaker lets go of them with a sigh. Then they look down at their own hands.

Red.

“What happened?” Caretaker asks, their voice carefully even.

It takes too long but Whumpee finishes taking their hoodie off, leaving them in a white undershirt. It hadn’t been easy to see with the black fabric, but the blood stands out starkly now. There’s one spot in particular: a tear in the shirt where the surrounding material is absolutely soaked. Underneath, a glistening blackish-red wound.

“You’re hurt!”

“Huh?”

Whumpee looks down at themselves and they gasp. “Oh my god.”

Caretaker guides Whumpee to sit on the toilet, their hands shaking. They carefully pull Whumpee’s shirt up, revealing a shallow slash.

“Oh, shit,” Whumpee mumbles. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. It doesn’t hurt.”

Caretaker rushes to grab a clean towel and hold it tightly to the injury. “Hold this here. Tight.” Whumpee’s hand twitches but doesn’t take the towel. When Caretaker grabs onto their hand it’s icy cold. “Whumpee what the fuck?” they growl.

“You shoulda seen the other guy…” Whumpee sways slightly and Caretaker catches them awkwardly with their shoulder. 

“I think you’re going into shock or something. Just… hold on, okay? I’m gonna call for help.”

[syncopein3d]

When two characters are injured, badly enough to be confined to bed, but they have to be kept together, in the same room or even the same bed, otherwise they'll wake up and go frantic trying to look for the other- calling out for them, struggling upright, crawling out of bed, staggering from the room; desperate to find the other and panicking to know they're alright- so if they're to get any rest in order to recover they need to be within sight and reach of each other, so when they wake up they're right there, able to reassure each other that they're alive and safe and healing.

[syncopein3d]

hero and villain au?

also sorry to get back to this a month and a half late but i just couldn't think of anything kashsdkhfsdsd

[syncopein3d]

Trying to finish my Warm One post on my phone so I can get on to this other Broken World idea I've had but here's the thing

Yep. This is the thing, her name is Misumena. She requires at least one hand or her Majesty will be very put out.

#cats #writing