Hurt - Blog Posts

Guess who screwed his fingers going sledging yesterday lmao. Nothing much but I like how the plasters look :))

And you can’t really see it but I did something to my right hand?? Not sure what, but its swollen and pretty sore, must of smacked it. And they seem to have mostly faded but my left hand got all scratched up.

“Now, now, darling- You just keep your pretty lips shut.”

One of my favourite rare/underused whump tropes??

Locked in a freezer.

Especially those kind of ice chests?? Like freezer boxes?? Only just big enough for someone to fit in, not much room to move at all.

Someone beaten and shoved into one of those. The bad guy either locks it or shoves something heavy on top. Our character jolts their back into the lid, realising with horror that it won’t budge. Maybe they’re manhandled in, bound and gagged, praying for their friends to find them.

Or one of those walk in freezers in stock rooms?? Our character is moving some boxes around when whatever’s propping the door open shifts and the door swings closed, locked. Or perhaps our character is fighting our bad guy, who shoves them in and locks the door, making eye contact through the little window before leaving. Or maybe our characters friend or co-worker closes the automatically locking door, without realising someones in there.

Maybe I’ll go on about it another time but I think the concept is pretty niche, I never really see it

Character A is left standing alone in the hallway of the hospital, clothes stained with Character B’s blood.

A feverish Character B leaning into Character A’s cool touch

Something I enjoy: Person not used to being carried gets carried

Character A enters the dark living room to suppressed whimpers and hitched breaths.

“Character B?? You okay??” They ask, barely able to make out Bs hunched form on the couch.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” B hisses through grit teeth.

Character A furrows their brow before fumbling around for the light switch, flipping it on as they find it.

The first thing they see is Character B slumped on the couch, face a sickly pale shade.

The second thing they see is the wad of paper towels Bs got clutched against their stomach, soaking up an alarming amount of blood.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Character A says softly, inching closer with placating hands, “It’s okay, I’m here to help.”

Character B, skittish like a wild animal, attempts to squeeze themself further back into the corner.