A normally stoic and stubborn character (A) painfully pushes the words out past their dry lips. The words themselves are wounded, barely unable to reach the other’s (B’s) ear. But they’re heard and the admission of weakness tightens B’s chest more than the sight of A writhing in a pool of their own blood. Their history doesn’t matter, really, when one is the picture of health and the other is closer to hell.
Help me - the phrase is so simple but it carries so much weight. Help you? For what in return? At what cost of my own? What if I can’t.. B’s eyes are widened as thoughts fill their mind. Yet they cannot waste time.
'Fuck it’
It’s a decisive thought, one to end all thoughts.
B bends down to staunch the wound and ties it up haphazardly. And when A starts to fade, they call their name. It’s almost casual at first but it grows in panic. And while they carry A to safety, they’re exhausted and panting but still, they call their name.
Why? Because they care. And seeing A hurt to the point they asked for help, wrenches them.
[The vulnerability trope is not just about a strong character succumbing to injury but also about the character who puts aside their coldness and finally admits that they’d seriously grieve if they lost the other]
What I’m actually thinking about 90% of the time is
The magic trope where character A uses some of their life source to heal character B’s otherwise fatal injury but as a result, B can now sense A’s energy level. When A is tired, the magic fades in proportion - the wound would throb if it was a small tired but grows more intense the more the magic dissipates.
Anyway the particular scene I love goes like:
A and B are separated in battle with A facing the big bad while B handles things on the ground, fighting off minions and evacuating civilians. B is running through the battlefield and they double over in pain as if someone is stabbing them over and over. They’re bleeding heavily, but there’s no one around them. B’s heart drops - the magic, the tether.. is just gone. Screaming A’s name, they stand, gripping their wound and leaning on their sword, and stagger towards the centre of conflict to find them.
Character A: a healer that treats by absorbing pain, no one knows about their power they just think they’re an amazing healer, chatty, hilarious, never seen outside the healer’s tent
Meets
Character B: stoic soldier who can’t feel pain, has a menacing aura, not one for words but can’t help but smirk at A’s jokes, lots of emotional baggage
Scenes goes something like:
B is brought into the healer’s tent after sustaining a serious abdominal injury during battle. They’re losing consciousness and blood pours out of their wound. B is placed on the bed and A presses down on the wound with a cloth. They try to work their magic but there’s nothing. A removes the cloth, pressing into the wound with their bare hands, blood immediately coating their arms. Nothing. Shit, they have to do this the hard way.
~
When B wakes, they see A checking their fluids beside them. A looks pale and their breathing is shaky. Another patient screams on a bed somewhere. A inhales sharply, pressing a hand to their face and closing their eyes. When they open them, they see B’s eyes watching.
Villain bends down on one knee and Hero wishes they could freeze this moment. In another universe, Villain would smile up at them, holding a ring, amber eyes sparkling. But moments cannot freeze, no matter how much you want them to.
Villain’s other knee thuds to the ground as blood pours from their chest. Their head hangs down, limp hair covering their eyes. Hero’s gun is still smoking when Villain finally crumples to the ground.
Hero turns their back and trudges away, feeling as if they’d just shot themselves in the chest instead of Villain. No one had ever understood how Hero was drawn to violence, how they sought it out not just to serve justice but to feel human and raw and alive. Villain understood, they more than understood. They’d committed crimes like love letters in a language only Hero could understand. And Hero let them, savoured them and even looked forward to them.
Hero stops in their tracks and turns on their heel. They run - back to Villain, back to their heart, back to the person who had already won before the whole game had even begun.
Whump prompt - vampire enemy but it’s forced proximity
Character A and their enemy - a vampire, join forces against a common enemy. They’re hiding from soldiers who are gradually converging on them. Vampire is weak and shuddering due to injuries and starvation. Vampire’s eyes grow feral and they become increasingly twitchy at the smell of A’s blood. A snaps at Vampire to ‘get it together’ but they are obviously not listening. So before Vampire’s erratic sounds reveal them to the soldiers, A offers up their wrist. Vampire looks at A, their face flashes apology, wanting to say no, before they’re overcome with hunger and lunge for A’s neck. Vampire’s jaw clamps on and blood sprays as they aggressively bite down. A tries to struggle against it but they slow and their expression turns euphoric. Vampire holds A in their arms, holding them closer to their mouth. A closes their eyes. The soldiers find the pair and hold weapons up to them. Vampire unclamps from A’s neck and suddenly comes to their senses. Now stronger, Vampire easily takes down the soldiers. But when Vampire looks back, A is still unconscious.
The spy and the healer (Enemies to lovers First meeting fic): ‘Your bloody knuckles betray you’
A strides quickly up the dark corridor, constantly checking behind her for the security chasing her. Her lungs burn but she manages to keep her breathing silent. It’s her first mission and she’s so lost despite having spent hours poring over the blueprint of the enemy’s headquarters.
The grey walls feel as if they’re closing in on her until she sees a door of frosted glass near. It’s dark on the other side so she opens it quietly and slips inside. A fumbles for her flashlight, allowing herself to pant freely in her temporary refuge. She can’t discern any wind that may come from a window. The room feels small, an office perhaps. She finally grabs a hold of her flashlight but before she can shine it, the room’s lights up in brilliant white.
A’s heart near leaps out of her chest, she almost curses aloud. Looking around, she sees a desk before her. It’s covered in paperwork and books. Behind it, a chair with a white coat laid carelessly atop. Against the far wall is a patient bed and various medical equipment lays beside it. There’s another door on the other side of the room, across from the bed. That’s where the figure steps out from.
'I don’t usually get visitors at this hour,’ B says, closing the door.
He walks up to A, running his hair through his messy black curls. He looks at her, and stops.
A averts her eyes and her hands move behind her meekly.
'Recruit!’ B says jovially, regarding her ill-fitting disguise.
'I’ve never seen you before. Guess you’ve never had the pleasure of being injured enough to see me’
A looks up and their eyes meet.
He looks young for a healer, he’s probably naive too. Under the white lights, his soft brown eyes sparkle.
'Recruit, take a seat’ B pats the patient bed.
Hesitant to leave the door, A steps slowly past the desk and toward B. She feels his eyes on her, assessing, undressing.
Sit sit, he gestures. And she does.
He pulls his chair close to her. Tutting softly, he brings a soft cotton pad to the angry red cut along her right jaw. It stings but as he does so, she looks around the room further. As she suspected, there are no windows in this room but she’s not sure about the room that the healer exited from earlier. Her best bet is probably to leave the way she entered. Right now, she’s sitting duck in this healer’s office.
'Luckily, your cut isn’t that deep that I need to stitch it’, B says softly, sticking the adhesive bandage to her face.
'Now, let me see these,’ B reaches for her hands. A’s knuckles are split and bleeding. She bites the tip of her tongue to stop her hiss as he takes one hand in his and spreads an antiseptic gel over them. Although he’s wearing gloves, his hand is warm and soft. A watches him as he focusses on cleaning her knuckles. The healer’s dressed in a sweater, he doesn’t wear his coat. He looks around her age. She feels a small guilt for deceiving him.
B finishes applying the solution to her hands and reaches over to his desk to retrieve a book. She holds her hands out as he fans the book over them. The cool air instantly relieving the heat and pain.
B smirks. 'Recruit, you’re a model patient. Even the toughest pros tear up when I give them the antiseptic for their cuts. But not you, recruit.’
He takes a small roll of white bandage out of a drawer and begins to wrap her knuckles.
'Tell me recruit, what’s your name?’
'A’
'Nice to make your acquaintance A. I’m B’
'Doctor B?’
'No no, just B’
'A, how did you injure yourself?’
The question is posed casually but A grows wary.
'Training. I, er, went too far’
B hums acknowledgment. He finishes up wrapping her second hand and leans back over to his desk. His fingers find a button beneath and press it.
Looking at A, he says
'You sure you didn’t get them from our guards, Agent A?’
He smiles crookedly.
'Your bloody knuckles betray you. All our recruits are forced to wear hand wraps during training’
The distant sound of boots approaching grows louder and louder. A stands up abruptly in an attempt to make a mad rush for the door but there’s a sharp, cold prick under her chin as B holds up a pair of scissors.
'Uhuh, not so fast little recruit. I’ll cut you a deal, since you were such a good patient. If you go now, you’ll have like five seconds on 'em.’
'In exchange for what?’ A asks through gritted teeth.
'This.’ B undoes the zipper of her jumpsuit and tugs off the locket at her neck.
A’s eyes go wide and she lunges for it but B jumps out of reach. She’s torn between retrieving her locket or running for her life. A bolts for the door but as she leaves she hears B call:
'See you around recruit’
When she’s gone, he looks at the locket in his palm.
Spy fic imagine - ‘You couldn’t be more wrong.. I worship you’
Agent A sags against her chains in her cell. Her hands and feet are bound with cuffs with spikes protruding inwards. Blood is smeared on her arms and ankles, it also drips off her chin from her broken nose.
The basement is dark and dead silent, save for her pained, shaking breaths. Then she hears steps and the cell door rattles.
'A! Are you okay?’ A voice whispers.
A is losing consciousness but at the sound of B’s voice, it’s low rasp, she jerks awake.
'B?’ Her voice cracks hoarsely from the two days without water or food.
She searches for his brown eyes but they’re focused on padlock. Deftly, B picks the lock and enters her cell silently. He doesn’t look at her and instead eyes the locks around her wrists and ankles. Bending down, his hair brushes against her knee as he picks the lock around her ankles. When it springs free he grasps her calves one at a time, just above the wounds where the cuffs have cut her, and guides them out of the chains. His hand is warm against her freezing skin. Her knees are on the verge of buckling.
'Can you stand?’ he asks in a low whisper.
'Yes’ she manages to croak out.
He stands, moving to pick the locks for her wrist cuffs. B looks up at the lock that holds A’s hands above her head. She stares at his chest, his broad shoulders, his neck, his adam’s apple..
'Done’ he says, lock springing free.
A sighs deeply as she lowers her aching arms and bloody wrists. She can’t see how badly they’re torn up but they sting like hell.
'Come on’ B says, walking over to the cell door.
He exits and holds it open for her to step out. She follows B’s lead as he walks quickly out of the basement. Darkness bites the edges of her vision as she moves, limbs burning.
B turns a corner, telling her to wait behind. He’s spotted two men and goes to distract them. She watches and waits for his signal but is suddenly pulled backward. Another man holds her against him, her throat in his elbow.
Instinctually, A manoeuvres out of it. For a brief moment, she feels powerful, kicking the man down. But very quickly the adrenaline fades..
Pain shoots up her limbs and dizziness overwhelms her. B runs back in time to see A kick the man away and immediately collapse onto the ground, eyes closing.
'No, A!’ he shouts.
More gang members rush to them. B runs toward her and loops his arm around her back.
'A, wake up! Come on!’
A stirs enough to move her legs weakly. B runs, half carrying, half pushing A till they are out of the den and in the clear, narrowly missing the gang members at their heels.
Out in the open, the mid afternoon sun hits them straight in the eyes. B radios urgent pickup from the crew on standby. A’s knees buckle from the pain and she collapses.
'Woah!’ B bends with her and moves his other arm behind her knees. He sits on the ground, cradling her weak form in his lap. A looks up and his brown eyes, now brilliant in the sun, meet hers.
'Why are you here?’ she asks
'You’re one of the best. There’s no way..’
'No, why are you here?’ A’s eyelids are daring to close, her limbs feel heavy.
B stills at the question and looks up. In his lap, A’s breathing slows and he realises he needs to keep talking to keep her awake.
'Because I had to find you’
A huffs. Her eyes slightly open as she mumbles,
'You don’t care where I am. Eight years we’ve been.. been in this job and you.. you never cared.. what I was up to’
'You couldn’t be more wrong.. A, I worship you’
His own confession has his heart hammering in his chest. B hears the distant sound of a helicopter and looks down at A’s face, unconscious on his elbow.
He bends over to kiss her forehead, almost sorry that he chose the worst time to confess. Then he lifts her, cradling her close and walks toward the landing helicopter.
Why do you always insist you’ve got it covered when you so clearly don’t?
Get your head out of your ass. You’re not strong enough to save us all on your own
And where did that get you?
I was going to have you punished for disobeying me but looks like they got to you first
You were stupid enough to get hurt in the first place so you’re damn well not allowed to pass out now
Quit your whining or I’ll shove the blade in further
(yelling) Afraid I’d yell at you? Your punk-ass would rather die than get yelled at?
Hey actually I do want your opinion on one thing- does it hurt more getting the blade shoved in (pulls blade out much to the painful surprise of whumpee) or out?
(Upon seeing whumpee’s bandages drenched in blood) *Sighs. This wound is almost as stubborn as you are.
Villain challenges Hero who is gasping for air on the ground. 'I want a real fight’
Caretaker crying over whumpee’s unresponsive form. 'Please get up’
'Can you hear me?’
Communications crackle as Hero tries to radio into HQ
Whumpee is fading and can hear Caretaker’s voice as if it is in the distance. Despite Caretaker shaking them, their eyes close and their body becomes limp.
'Here, let me’
A is struggling to complete a task. Impatiently, B takes over.
Whumpee tries to stitch up a wound themselves but their hands shake in fear and pain. Caretaker gently takes the needle and thread from their hands and hands them a bottle of alcohol instead.
'I can’t’
Hero drops the dagger, shaking. 'I can’t. I can’t kill you’. Villain, tied up, huffs and retorts 'So what are you good for?’
Tears run down caretaker’s face. 'I can’t leave you’. Whumpee smiles despite the pain and reaches up to cup Caretaker’s face, wiping their tears gently with their thumb.
'Where have you been hiding?’
Whumper’s sinister call echoes as they search the woods near their property. With those wounds, whumpee couldn’t have gone far.
A strokes hair out of B’s face as they lay beside each other. 'Where have you been hiding my whole life?’ they say softly.
AS ALWAYS, TAG ME @whumpyourenemy IN YOUR HURT/COMFORT WORKS IF YOU USE MY PROMPTS OR TAKE INSPIRATION. I’D LOVE TO READ AND SUPPORT!
Fantasy prompt on Immortals - Whump, H/C are always a given :)
Characters A and B are a couple that used to love to travel. One day, they’re deep in the forest and come across a cave. Inside, sleeps a minor God who is chained there as punishment for mischief. The couple accidentally wake them. The God is bitter for being woken and reminded of their imprisonment. They lash out on the two humans giving them immortality and no mortal weakness except one.
Each other.
If any other person tries to harm them, weapons will just pass through. No blade can cut them. No poison can kill them. But the catch is, as soon as they are near each other, they are more susceptible to injury. Normal blades can’t cut them but an enchanted one might. And not to leave out the most important part but any weapon or means of killing will work if done directly by the other person. They are completely at each other’s mercy.
The couple feel the ground shake as soon as the curse is given. The cave begins to collapse around them. They just manage to make it out. Adrenaline fading, they look at each other. Both are sceptical but something innate tells them it’s true. They decide to call truce, no longer able to stomach the fact that the other person is how they will die, and separate for centuries.
Until..
A walks out of their house into the crisp morning air. It’s a humble abode they’ve built for themselves in seclusion. The morning is silent save for the crunch of their footsteps.. and the explosive sound of a gun. It’s hits them in the thigh and pain explodes in their leg. They fall, blood immediately pooling on the ground.
Panic sets through A.
‘No, there’s no way.. Impossible,’ they mutter.
It cannot be B, they have always kept tabs on each other’s whereabouts and made sure it was always at least the diameter of the Earth away.
'B!’ A calls. Silence resumes.
Overwhelmed by pain which they have not felt for centuries, A maneuvers themself back inside. They haphazardly stitch themselves up and bandage their thigh. They couldn’t find a bullet so they figure it was a graze. Unable to get up, they lay there. Feeling cold and faint, they stay unmoving and pass out.
A wakes hours later to banging at their door. Grimacing, they pull themselves up using nearby furniture. They move from object to object, limping heavily until they reach the door. Delirious, they open it. Their half lidded eyes open wide in shock. It’s B.
A lunges for them. 'You bastard, you..’ A slurs curse words ancient and new. B grabs them by the shoulders, fingers digging in.
'I should be the one saying that..’ But their words falter when they see the state of A, feverish and bathed in their own blood. B lets them fall into their arms.
'Oof’ B groans at the sudden weight, hand reaching for their side.
When they look down at A, the latter is barely awake. Their face is drained of blood, their body is only held upright by B’s arm.
'Let me go’ A says coldly.
And honestly, B would love to. Holding A’s weight to their abdomen presses on their wound. Yet, they hold A up, helping them limp to a seat before collapsing into one themselves. Unbuttoning their shirt, B bares the bandages that bind an injury to their side. Blood has bloomed through. Face set in a wince, A stares at B’s wound.
'I didn’t..’ They start.
'You give me no reason to doubt that’
'How did you get here so fast?’
'It took me a whole day. That’s not fast.. When did you get hurt?’
'A couple hours ago, I don’t know, this morning’
'No I wasn’t close enough. It couldn’t be someone using the loophole’
'Then who?’
B’s fingers pinch the space between their eyes. They groan.
'The God’
'The God? But..’
'A, we were both shot but there is no bullet. Nothing’
Looking at their wound now, its placement on A’s thigh, they realise it couldn’t have been a graze. There should be a bullet in their thigh. But there wasn’t.
'So what now? We go hunting for a GOD?’ A’s voice is raspy. They’re fading and exhausted.
B nods and stands slowly, hissing in pain. They place a blanket over A’s bloody form as they watch as A’s eyes close.
'But the truce holds, darling. Now that we’re together, I cannot let you out of my sight’
An indestructible hero falls to their knees in pain. Blood pours from a wound inflicted by villain. Hero’s confused face turns to helplessness. Villain’s eyes widen in shock that they were actually able to injure Hero.
‘What is happening? How.. Argh,’ Hero groans as they clutch their wound, the edges of their vision is growing dark.
Villain watches Hero’s face. The way their nostrils flare and their lips curl. Perfect teeth grinding against each other. 'Does it hurt Hero? Do you want me to kiss it better?’
Do you like enemies to lovers because it’s hot or do you like enemies to lovers because you think of yourself as unlovable & unworthy of love and therefore like the idea of someone seeing all the worst in you right away and still falling in love with you anyways
