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Hurt - Blog Posts
“I’m a grown man, I am not gonna use kitty-cat plasters!”
“I’m sorry, what do you mean kind-of stabbed?!”
Character b falls in love with their undercover life. They wish they could live this fictional life forever. But all good things have to come to an untimely end.
Just when they’re finally about to rest, sleep-deprived Character B gets called to duty.
“I’m fine.” Character B insists through ragged breaths, “It doesn’t even hurt.”
In the past, Character B was hurt after revealing something personal about themself. Now, even with close friends, they struggle to share it.
After having a nightmare, Character B wakes up fighting, deaf to the reassurances of Character A.
Character B wakes up in hospital and is surprised to see their friends/team all there, in varying degrees of alertness.
“Why are you all here?? Don’t you have important things to do??” B asks Character A, the only one fully awake.
A gives them a perplexed look, “‘Cause we care about you, dumbass, that’s why.”
Character B gets hurt due to their friends negligence.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but-uh, I’m at the hospital. Could-could you come get me??”
Character A being the stoic leader, refusing to negotiate with the enemy side. But as soon as Character B is put in danger, A folds.
Character b sustains an injury but tries to ignore it, only to painfully peel back their clothing a couple days later to find a definitely infected wound.
Character b, bloody and disheveled, stumbling into Character As room/house. With a desperate look, b collapses to the floor.
Kidnapping whump can be so good, theres so many options,,,
Do they get drugged and wake up in an unfamiliar place?? Do they get a gun dug into their back and a whispered threat to comply?? Do they get jumped on the street and manhandled into a van??
What about once they’re there?? How do they react?? Are they stoic and unbreakable?? Defiant and quippy?? Or are they terrified, begging to be let go?? Do they cry?? Scream?? Or stay silent no matter what??
And what do their captors want?? Information?? Does b tell?? Or perhaps they want to send a message, to hurt someone close to b. Or maybe its personal, maybe they just want b.
What do they do to b?? Just rough them up a bit?? A couple strong punches or kicks?? Some threats, maybe?? Or do they go further?? Broken fingers, water boarding, whips?? Severed toes, extracted teeth, eye puncture?? Do they condition them or use non con or dehumanize them??
How does it end?? Are they rescued by their team, friends, caretaker or even enemy?? Do they escape on their own or with other victims?? Are they set free, after the captors are done with them?? Does their story end with the sweet release of death?? Or does it never end??
Ahhhhh, kidnapping,,,
((Any feedback is greatly appreciated!))
“Character B, you’re sick! Please just lay down and rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead!”
“And that’s gonna be far sooner than you think if you don’t just lay down!”
Okay but manhandling??
Getting forced roughly to their knees ((perhaps with a gun pointed at their face))
Getting roughed up as a threat ((and their friends/caretaker finding out))
Slammed against a wall
Arms twisted painfully behind their back
A hand harshly covering their mouth
An arm wrapped around their neck, back flush against their captor
Grabbed by the hair
Grabbed around the midsection and lifted as they struggle
Grabbed by their shirt collar and pinned against a wall
Yeah,,, manhandling very good
I always find myself wishing they’d hurt a character more often in my favourite shows
Like, come on, just,,, do it,,,
Forever thinking about that White Collar episode where Neal and Peter get trapped in a room with no oxygen and Neal passes out.
That was,,, that was the good shit
“When was the last time you ate??”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Well I’m making it my business!”
Shouting and protesting, character A is roughly held back as they’re forced to watch character B get hurt
I’m sorry but something about a defiant b being grabbed by the hair and forced to make eye contact is pretty neat
“It’s no big deal.”
“It’s not ‘no big deal’, I found you half-dead on your bathroom floor!”
A and B have an argument that ends on bad terms. But when b gets hurt, he doesn’t know who else to turn to.
This is a poem I just wrote, let me know what you think please.
Society teaches us what it's like to 'be a man' How to be 'a women' Thinks there isn't anything different That's why so many young people commit suicide I'd say boys and girls, but there is more than that I'm not foolish enough to think otherwise Though society teaches us at a young age that there is only that Nothing different from those two boxes they try to fit us all in They're wrong There is a spectrum, nothing is set in stone There is no right or wrong when it comes to who you are Don't let society tell you what it means to be anything Don't try to be anything other than yourself There is a strength in you that you don't know Asking for help is not weakness There is nothing wrong with letting someone else take care of you for awhile Strength is continuing on even when you think there is nothing else Strength is reaching out for help Strength is knowledge Knowledge is power Power is whatever you feel it is Nothing will change the strength inside of you Nothing will take that away from you It can't be forced out of yourself That strength is always there waiting for you to let it out Sometimes you need someone to help bring it out of you There is a strength in that itself Reaching out is one of the strongest things you can ever do Never let society or anyone tell you anything different Not even yourself Don't think giving up is stronger than asking for help Don't think asking for help isn't man enough Don't think asking for help makes you weak in any sense of the world There is a fire inside each and every one of you You just have to let it burn Don't let anyone tell you that your fire is wrong That you don't deserve that fire That your fire isn't yours to control That your shade of fire isn't yours That your fire is any less yours after someone tries to take it away from you Don't you ever let anyone tell you who you are Don't you dare listen to anyone who calls you weak You're all so much stronger than you know You're still here You're hearing or reading these words You're still burning strong That right there is strength Strength is beauty And you all are the most beautiful people Don't forget that And please never let anyone tell you anything different. You're all beautiful amazing strong people Don't let someone take that away from you It's not something that they can take away from you Only you can So don't listen to them Don't believe them Just keep burning That is true strength.
CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING?—please, don't leave me
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Request by @goblinjnr
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, grieving, angst, suicide
A/N: it's very fucking sad so beware
~~
Her eyes shut tight as her husband pressed a loving kiss onto her lips. Y/N's body involuntarily relaxing into his hands, causing Tommy to smile through the kiss.
”Mrs. Shelby, are you cold? I can see goosebumps on your skin” He teased, leaning forward as he grazed the skin of her neck with his nose, causing her to let out a sigh.
”Very funny” She responded, pinching his side lightly with a grin. ”That's what happens to a woman when her husband finally decides to put business away and give her affection instead.” Her voice was also teasing, as her own gaze completely drowned in his intense blue orbs.
Pulling her even closer, Tommy's nose brushed against hers in a promise of a kiss.
”So I'll have to consider doing this more often.”
Leaving last, strong kiss on her lips Tommy took a step back.
”Do what you have to, and come find me.” Y/N asked, squeezing his hand lightly, her expression relaxed and almost dreamy seeing him in such a good humour.
Bowing lightly, Thomas answered.
”Don't go too far, I'll join you soon.” His voice had an undertone of worry to it, his eyes becoming slightly more cloudy at the obvious allusion.
Giving him a weak nod, Y/N agreed, understanding exactly what he meant.
Don't go anywhere on your own, it's dangerous
Turning around, Thomas slowly walked back to his office, his steps echoing throughout the corridor as the warmth of their lovely encounter disappeared under the weight of reality.
Y/N let out a sharp breath, her heart picking up speed as her hand fell to her belly, causing more internal pain than anything. The mask she had to wear around him was becoming heavier with each passing day.
But she couldn't tell him. Not when the prognosis were so hopeful the last time they visited the hospital together. Not after seeing him gain back the spark he lost for so long.
Letting out a sharp exhale, Y/N turned around, slowly walking back to their bedroom. Wincing quietly she made her way through the corridor before settling on a bed lightly.
The day they found out was the worst day in her life. Rushing to the doctor so hopefully, once she noticed her stomach... Growing. After trying for a baby, could it finally happen? Y/N wondered back then, showing Tommy the swelling on her stomach.
Putting his hand over her belly, he was the happiest man in the world, dimples on his cheeks revealing to their full extent as he smiled so brightly, a rare sight but how beautiful she felt. A family, of her own.
A girl? A boy? They wondered the day before her visit. Chatting away endlessly about names, clothes and toys for a little Shelby.
A heavenly happiness that lasted no longer than three days, before they got crushed by the diagnosis.
Stomach cancer
Thomas' hand fell limp by his side, as Y/N froze completely. It took a longer minute, followed by ”I'm so sorry” from the doctor before tears appeared. Falling faster and heavier, each one a nail to her poor heart, wiping away every dream they managed to talk about in the last days.
All hope, gone, just like that.
...but it wasn't over just yet, as Dr. Wellerman explained the path they will have to go through. The risks of chemotherapy, additional tests and needed medication.
Tommy tried to stay strong, so badly, despite the white colour his face turned. Nausea took over his mind as he listened to each word, listening to the doctor explaining her survival rate. He needed to be strong.
So he was, carrying the weight like a world champion, never letting her carry it alone.
”Don't cry” He murmured in the worst nights, rocking her back and forth in his arms, sitting on the floor by the bed. ”We will bring you back to good health, and then have children. Little copies of our own, eh? A girl with my nose and your smile.” He spoke quietly into her ear, staring blankly at a wall. Whispering beautiful words she so desperately needed to hear, keeping her heart from breaking.
With each week they were both feeling worse, Y/N's physical state worsening visibly throughout the chemotherapy. The pain she felt in her abdomen could be compared to the flames from hell, reaching her ruthlessly and blooming the horrible thought she tried to push away so badly.
I want to die already, her mind would whisper cruelly, hating the way her husband's bones became more visible. His sunken eyes which lost all colour, almost as if he was the one with tumour eating away on his body and mind.
It wouldn't be much different then, because the pain he carried seeing her slowly fade away was easily the most difficult battles he had to fight.
A couple years back, Thomas would never expect to even think that, but the war in France was nothing compared to the unfair war he chose to fight everyday, holding onto his wife at all costs.
On the worst days, he would silently cry against the door of their bathroom, begging her to let him in as she cried so loudly.
”Don't look at me, I'm disgusting!” Y/N kept repeating, looking in the shattered mirror at her reflection. She was a shadow of her old self, her almost completely bald head mocking her, along with the colourless eyes that looked back.
”Y/N, please. Don't shut me away” His voice was breaking, despite the attempts to stay strong. Minutes later he would be on the floor by her side, kissing her temples and holding so tightly to not let her drown.
”You're beautiful, Mrs. Shelby. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” He talked, looking her in the eyes, his deep, honest voice never ceasing to bring her out of misery even just for a few seconds. Rough fingertips grazing over her delicate, pale skin. ”So beautiful I just had to marry you.”
A deep silence following his gentle tone, as his fingers drew random patterns on her skin.
”Am I dying, Tommy?” She asked quietly, her voice so fearful as she held onto his shirt, head resting on his shoulder. Thomas was almost sure she could physically hear his heart shattering at the question.
”No,” He replied confidently, getting her to look him in the eyes. To see the lack of hesitation and the fire he had in him, as her own was slowly getting smaller. She was losing hope. ”You're not dying. I wouldn't let you leave me, after all, eh?” He said, small, weak smile appearing on his lips and reaching her eyes.
”I love you so much” She whispered, slowly nodding off to sleep against his heartbeat.
Y/N remembered every and each of those days when he's been the lifeline. The only reason she was getting up and fighting against the cruel faith, slipping from death's embrace every day, almost like his love was keeping her alive.
...and it worked. Tests started coming back better than before, the cancer responded well to the chemo, allowing life to slowly seep back into their reality.
Y/N could never forget how happy it made them. Made him. The way he laughed and joked, and touched her looking, oh the way he looked at her. Like nothing else mattered, as he brought her flowers and loved every moment they had. Thomas grew to appreciate her presence so much, even the business wasn't able to get a hold of his mind as often anymore.
Life was a dream, until it wasn't.
The pain and swelling grew, sometimes making it difficult to move her legs even. Y/N held onto the thought that it was temporary, that everything was okay, so she didn't tell him. Couldn't bring herself to share her worries, seeing the way he lived and not just survived anymore.
So the secrets began, every letter from the hospital started coming to the rented storage she kept away from everyone. Tests getting more worrying until one, particular one, killed the hope completely.
The cancer no longer remained in her stomach, now spreading to the liver, lymph nodes and lungs, crushing the potential survival rate to 3%.
”Oh God” She cried at first, howling so loudly her throat grew sore and voice weak.
But it wasn't the worst. The worst was pretending around Tommy, forcing herself to smile and walk and talk as lively as before.
Be there for him, and try hard enough to smile so it would reach her eyes, because else he would know.
Each day was harder as the pain grew stronger. Eventually she had to start shaving her head every few days, to hide the fact she stopped the chemotherapy.
The pain was too much. The first time was easier, as she mindlessly shared the misery with Tommy. Carrying it together was easier, but with how much he loved her, seeing her in that state was killing him more than cancer was killing her.
So she pretended. Smiling, shaving her head and making sure to keep her expression stoic as the swelling burned hellishly.
So here she was, sitting on the edge of their bed, both hands on her belly in hopes to ease the pain. Unfamiliar pain, one so strong she couldn't breath at all.
”Tommy” She managed to whimper out, fingers wrapping around the edge of the nightstand so hard, her knuckles turned white. Slowly lowering herself to the ground, Y/N felt her legs giving out as she fell down with a loud thump, starting to cough.
Barely opening her eyes, she noticed the drops of crimson red fluid dirtying the clean, wooden floor. Her mind turned hazy, feeling completely out of it as more and more blood splattered the floor.
Only then did she barely register the fast, loud steps approaching.
”Y/N!” Thomas boomed loudly, rushing to her side. His face was completely pale, his shaky hands wrapping around her chest as he pulled her up, completely panicked. ”Frances! Frances call the ambulance!” He screamed in a frenzy, leaning forward to try and help. ”Y/N, I'm here, I'm here.” He choked out as her eyes became cloudy, breaths coming out in short bursts. ”Y/N! Look at me, please fucking look at me!” Tears steamed down his face at the suddenly terrible state she found herself in. She looked at him, but couldn't see.
As he cried, and screamed, pulling all the old medication she used to be taking from her nightstand, spilling them by his side and looking for the particular one that used to help with breathing problems, Y/N was halway gone.
Physically she couldn't see, struggling to breathe enough to keep her brain functioning yet the only thing she could think of was him.
Please, don't take me away. Who's going to protect him from the self-destruction his heart holds?
”Please, don't leave me” He cried out weakly, pushing his forehead against her collarbone, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. Hiding.
The memory of his happy, blue eyes was the last thing she registered, feeling as if he gently eased her into sleep, taking away all the pain. In reality, Thomas couldn't hold in the animalistic howling that ripped from his throat while he held her tightly to his chest, rocking back and forth as the sound of an ambulance pulling up by the Arrow house came to his ears.
From this moment, there was nothing.
***
She was gone.
He lost count of the amount of hours since it happened. Thomas didn't know if it was a night or a day, as he forced the maids to cover every source of light in the house before sending them away. The alcohol combined with opium in his system made him see the most beautiful things in the dark, memories shining so brightly.
His eyes rolled back at the scent of her, as he was holding her nightgown to his chest. Blood was trickling from his fingers, dirtying the pink material because of the destruction he brought upon the Arrow house once left alone.
Rocking back and forth in the middle of the room, he remembered the sight of his wife sitting by the vanity, laughing as she made him roll his eyes with her smart mouth. She fitted so perfectly, so perfectly with the scent he was feeling.
It was all that mattered, as long as he felt her presence around him.
In the next few days Polly threw away all the opium he had, trying her best along with her nephews to support him through the ripping loss. Only if he wanted that help, maybe everything would eventually be okay.
But for him, there was nothing before her, and nothing after her. The story was done.
Once left alone again, he let out a sigh, feeling the pounding headache. The noise was overwhelming, impossible to suppress ever since she was gone.
”I can hear them coming again” He whispered into the silence of his office, as the shovels dug against the walls from every direction. Getting louder with every passing minute. ”They want to take you away from me, darling” His voice was rough from the lack of using it. Opening his eyes, Thomas looked at the portrait hanging on the wall. You and him. Like like he promised. His eyes on the painting were far from reality, not resembling the dark irises, swallowed completely by madness which took over his mind without change. ”I won't let you leave me” He repeated the line from the past, lips wrapping around the familiar words as he pulled out the pistol from his holster. Lazily pressing the muzzle against his head as his lips turned upwards into a heartfelt smile. ”I'm coming, sweetheart.”
His loving words were followed by a loud bang, as the bullet ruthlessly ripped through his skull and brain, only to get stuck in the old furniture in another room.
His body went completely limp as the unlit cigarette fell onto the desk, becoming the last sound of their lively love ever heard in the wall of the Arrow house.
A house which became a cemetery for the undying love, and future that would never come.
Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @honeymoon8 @chaimaarouaine11 @hatethis29 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @preparedfruit @emptyvoidofmine
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Loss of consciousness
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whipped on the back
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