So casually cruel

A closes their eyes against the harsh sting of B’s palm slapping their face. They’re hunched over with their hands on their knees. There’s not enough air in the world. Their chest burns from running so fast for so long, it feels as if they’re about to throw up.

B’s hand cups A’s cheek, grabbing the skin on their cheekbone painfully. ‘Get up. Fucking get up A, I swear,’ B yells.

vs

A closes their eyes against the agonising pain of their wound. They keel over, dust parting as they thud onto the ground. It feels as if all they’ve ever known is blinding, burning pain. There’s not enough air in the world. Everything burns.

B skids to A’s side, cupping their cheek softly in their hand. They rub their thumb tenderly over A’s cheekbone. 'Get up. A please get up, I swear,’ B’s voice breaks on the edge of a sob.

‘Help me’ - the moment of vulnerability trope

'Help me’

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]

Dare I say

The only thing better than hurting a character so badly they faint, is waiting till they recover and enter confrontation (albeit bandaged, braced with a residual limp or stagger) before WHUMPING THEM AGAIN. IN THE SAME SPOT! LEAVING THEM MORE INJURED THEN THEY WERE BEFORE

And it’s not an argument without evidence:

• The flash of white bandages around a character’s abdomen that peek out from inside torn clothing and the scarlet blood that blooms through their bandages as a sharp object is brutally stabbed into them. Their weapon clatters onto the ground before they collapse beside it, writhing and screaming in agony.
• A character on crutches being pushed down stairs. The nauseating feeling of their injured leg crumpling under them as they fall, unable to do anything. The loud crash at the bottom, followed by heavy silence filled with the feeling of being so broken.
• After spending days in bed, restless with intense fever, a character’s fever finally breaks. They start to eat again and move around, slowly regaining their strength. But it’s not fast enough; too soon, the character is forced to traverse an extremely harsh environment on little rest. Eventually, they’re overcome by intense hot and cold flashes and blurring vision as they collapse to the ground, convulsing.

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.

Hey, escape with me for a minute

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.

Trope I couldn’t stop thinking about today..

When whumpee collapses and stoic caretaker instinctively touches their cheek to whumpee’s forehead to check their temperature

It’s my birthday! Here’s a short fic from me to you - ‘Where is she’

Whump warnings: Kidnapping, broken bones, blood, limping, emotional trauma

A has been found. B can’t believe it.

A team had been sent out to scope out a possible location for C’s den and as it turns out, it was. A had been missing for three months and they’d finally found her. B won’t believe it till he sees her for himself.

Where is she

The van with the team and A finally pulls up. Agents swarm them, trying to get a glimpse of the agency’s finest spy who was violently taken from them.

Where is she

Where is she

B pushes his way through the crowd and sees her.

A’s hair hides her face as she hunches forward. She’s wearing an oversized jacket probably placed on her by a team member. Many hands support her waist and her shoulders as she limps heavily. As he finally pushes himself before her, B sees one of the sleeves of the jacket hangs limp - it’s empty.

'A,’ B says to his girlfriend.

A looks up, her amber eyes undo him. Seeing B, A gasps softly and she pushes out of the others’ hands to limp towards him. He sees her right arm in a makeshift sling inside her jacket. It looks utterly broken and bloody, bright blood has already seeped through the sling.

She makes it one step before she falls forward into his arms. A cries out at the impact but she smiles up at B.

'B,’ A says softly. 'I never thought I’d see you again’

B helps her to stand but her legs give out from underneath her. A stretcher arrives and B helps to lift her onto it before walking alongside it to the infirmary.

B isn’t allowed in when they treat her but he sits outside the door listening, waiting. Right beside the door, he can hear A’s every scream and groan as they treat her. His insides twist and wrench at every sound and he feels so uneasy listening to her in pain. Tears prick his eyes and then they fall in rivulets. He sits for hours, head in his hands until the doctors finally emerge and allow him to see her.

A lies slightly propped up on the bed. Her right arm is fully casted and rests propped up beside her. Her right leg also rests in a cast, it peeks out from beneath her blanket. Every part of skin B can see is bruised. His stomach drops at the sight of her so broken.

'B,’ A smiles, her voice hoarse. 'You’re still here’

'I-’ B chokes up. 'You are everything to me’

A chuckles. 'Sappy isn’t your style, B’

B smiles slightly, how could she be cheering him up at a time like this?

'A’

'Yep,’ A looks up at him curiously. Her eyes aren’t as bright as they used to be. B looks at her solemnly.

'I know he hurt you badly. I know that. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay because I want you to feel safe with me.’

A’s features soften, her brows furrow.

B continues, 'I love you. I love you so much I wish I had told you more. I want to be there for you when you want me to.’

A’s eyes are glassy and she nods. 'I just.. want to laugh again’

B’s eyes also shine as he nods back. 'You will. I promise’

[Hope you enjoyed]

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.

'I’ll see you soon enough anyway’

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.

Gorgeous

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?’