memep0ster memep0ster wrote in memebells
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1422. Hurt & Comfort Meme


Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.


- Post with Character Name | Series in the subject.
- Others respond.
- Roll 1-21 at RNG for a scene, play it out and have fun!


1. INJURY. You've been injured. Broken bones or bleeding out or maybe just a tiny little papercut. The choice is yours.
2. SICKNESS. You're sick and laid up in bed, at home or in a hospital. The severity is up to you.
3. FEAR/ANXIETY. Something is happening and you're scared beyond belief.
4. LOSS OF SENSES. Sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell, etc. You've lost some important sense or ability and now you're left to deal with it.
5. DESPAIR. Nothing is good or right anymore and you can't shake the depression. Maybe that friend of yours can help though...
6. BREAKUP. You've been dumped. You need someone to comfort you, possibly by the one who dumped you.
7. MAKE UP. Fight or break up, it's time to makeup.
8. RESCUED. You've just been held captive and/or tortured for however long and finally, someone has come to the rescue.
9. BAD ROMANCE. Fight, cheated on, abused, whatever the case is, someone else can clearly see you need comfort from someone who isn't your terrible lover tonight.
10. LOSS. You've experience a loss of some kind and need help getting through it.
11. INSANITY. You're seeing things that aren't really there, hearing voices, or you're just convinced you're at your wit's end finally and you're going to crack. Maybe someone can give you a helping hand.
12. TIRED. You've had a heard life recently and you're just worn too thin to really care anymore. There's no fight left in you anymore. Can someone help change your mind?
13. ADDICTION. Drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, or any other type of addiction has got you in its grasp. First time or relapse. Will someone be able to save you?
14. INSOMNIA. You can't sleep anymore, no matter how hard you try. Maybe someone can give you company.
15. NIGHTMARES. Or, on the other end of the spectrum, you can't sleep without gruesome, horrible nightmares. Either someone is stuck in your dream with you, witnessing it or they're just waking you up, soothing you out of it.
16. BLACKMAIL. You've been caught doing something you shouldn't and you were blackmailed because of it
17. SEPARATION. You're going to be separated for awhile or were separated for a long time. Either make up for lost time or try to spend every last moment together.
18. VIOLATED. You've been violated in some way. Can include sexual overtones or not. Can someone help you through it?
19. STRANDED. You've been stranded somewhere remote, with no help of anyone finding you for awhile. Can you survive this together?
20. SINS. You're feeling the weight of your sins and guilt clearer than ever. Can someone give you absolution or lessen the ache any?
21. SECRET. It's difficult having to keep that secret of yours, be it a relationship or something you just don't want to share with anybody else. Maybe it's okay to talk about it now though...

Ben Lockwood | werewolf OC | slave AU | OTA

[Ben sprawls, half-conscious and naked, in an alley. A wolfsbane net is draped across his chest and abdomen, leaving welts across the startling scarred tattoo over his heart. His left hand looks as if someone stomped on it with a view to turning 27 bones into 54--or more--and the werewolf brand on the back of it is bruised and swollen almost beyond recognition. A slice down his right forearm, to the bone, marks where his assailants removed the tracking chip. Whoever attacked him left the electric collar and cuffs, however.

He's got two claws through his hand, broken off, like he had clenched his fist and then popped them before it got stepped on. Once broken off, the wolfsbane wouldn't affect them, so there they are.

He breathes in shallow gasps. God, but he hates damn wolfsbane...]

{{OOC: 'verse info here. Any strangers (or old friends) tagging, assume it's in the first 'verse after Maria has died.}}


Edited at 2013-03-24 04:19 am (UTC)

[Maria, naturally, has been looking for him almost since the moment he went missing. Cold fury and fear war within her, and she's down to combing alleys in desperation . . .]

[They stepped on the tracking chip after they tore it out of his arm. Laughing about how his Mistress would never find him now, and he'd die here, slowly.

They stripped the ring from his broken finger before they left.

But he's not far from home, he's never far from home anymore. Nonetheless, he hopes Maria hurries.

He's cold.]

[Oh, she's hurrying, all right, as much as she can, and she barely pauses when she peers into the alley and sees . . .]

Ben!

[She rushes to his side, heedless of what a bad idea kneeling is as she drops down beside him.]

Oh, liebling . . .

Maria... [He coughs, and broken ribs stab him.] Knew. Knew you'd come for me. [The wolfsbane hasn't had a chance to root yet, thank Dad.] Tried to. To Change. Get away.

They've done this before. Knew exactly what to do. Even with the collar not working. [His right tibia is broker'n shit too, maybe in more than one place.] Sorry about the mess...

Shh. Don't be ridiculous, Volchok.

[She's already working on pulling the wolfsbane away, gently as she can, trying to make it quick while still trying not to hurt him more than absolutely necessary.]

Oh, your poor hand . . .

[He makes a noise down in his throat.] They took. Took my ring. Our ring. Said I didn't have a right. Like it was any of their business, the bastards. [As the wolfsbane comes away, he huffs out a relieved breath. It didn't have time to dump too many toxins into his system, and he can move as soon as it's off. He rolls laboriously onto his side with a pained grunt and rests his head in her lap.]

I hate being cold.

I know, sweetheart.

[Maria slips out of her jacket and tucks it around his shoulders, stroking his hair for a moment before reaching carefully for his shattered hand.]

Oh, those bastards, they are going to regret very much the moment they laid eyes on you . . .

I still remember what they smell like. Can't wait to see the expression on their faces. When they realize. Just how much. They fucked up.

Just need to heal up first. [He reaches for the broken-off claws and pulls them out, wincing as he does.] Thought I could stop them taking the ring if I did that--clenched my fist and put my claws through it.

Turns out, not so much. Guess I'll know for next time.

[Maria flinches subtly at the notion of "next time" and takes his hand in both of hers, feeling very gingerly for the breaks with her thumbs.]

Ach, this is a bad business, Ben, we should get you back home so I can put it back together and get it immobilized. It would not do for it to knit wrong.

[He nods, trying hard not to flinch away from her hands.] I would dearly love to go home.

I don't want anyone else touching me, though. [A sigh and a grimace.] Not sure how we arrange that. They made sure I wouldn't walk on either two legs or four.

[Maria bends over him and kisses his temple, just holding his hand now as gently as she possibly can.]

How about you rest for a little while, first, and meanwhile I will call some friends of mine to come and get us. People I know will not hurt you.

[He closes his eyes and nods.] All right. [He'll just lie here and bask in her love, is what he'll do. A shiver of horror judders through him.] God, what if they'd taken me. [He really wants a backup tracking chip now.]

[Maria makes a gentle, calming noise and caresses him with one hand while she fishes her phone out with the other.]

I would have found you. I always will find you, my heart.

I know you will. [He turns his face into her leg and inhales the scent of Mate and home.] If your friends would bring a blanket or two, that'd be ace. [A grimace.] Not sure I'm dressing myself under my own power anytime soon. Assholes did a number on me.

I will see to it. Just rest, Volchok, I will take care of everything.

[She keeps right on petting him while she dials up one of her numerous 'friends' and exchanges pleasantries before moving into the delicate task of cashing in a favor. ]

I RETURN.

[He makes a relieved noise, still shivering a little. The alley is cold, and he's probably shocky.] Love you. [Just the fact that she's here makes him easier in his heart and spirit, and he closes his eyes and tries to relax.]

\o/

[Maria says a polite goodbye to her "friends" and hangs up, bending over him and stroking his hair.]

And I love you, my sweetheart.

[She isn't going to mention how scared she was when she realized he was missing. No sense dwelling on the bad.]

[Yeah, well, he can smell it on her, and he's sorry he scared her like that. He hates the fact that this is the world they live in, where they could be taken from each other in the blink of an eye, but it is what it is and he guesses he just has to deal. In the meantime, he'll try to relax and let the healing factor work its magic while they wait for her friends to show.

With a blanket. Or two. He huffs out a sigh.] I wonder what other places are like. I miss Moab.

[Maria makes a thoughtful noise, carding her fingers through his curly blond hair.]

Maybe after you are recovered and we get your ring back from the bastards, we go on a holiday, the two of us?

[He nods, basking in the petting.] You ever been there? It's beautiful. All red and white rocks. It'll be flowering in a couple of weeks. We should go then. There's two National Parks and a State Park right there, and the whole countryside is fantastic. You get in the right spots and there's views for miles.

And the food is really good too. [A pang goes through him.] Well. I mean, I haven't been there for decades. But it used to be. For a little town, the local restaurants were amazing.

Well, then. We will do it. You can show me everything, husband.

[Maria nods firmly. It will do them both good to get out of the city, away from things like this.

A dark van rolls up to the mouth of the alley, and she perks up.]

There we are. Our ride is here.

[Ben can't help it; he goes tense. After the hammering he just sustained, he's not sure he can be blamed. His nose works overtime as three men exit the van. One of them is carrying a blanket. They're armed, of course they're armed, but he's not sure if that's good or bad yet.]

[Maria makes a soothing noise and shifts one hand to her own pistol, more to make Ben feel safe than anything. She doesn't get up (and will tactfully avoid mentioning that she can't get up easily from this position.]

Ah. Sehr gut, excellent. Thank you for hurrying.

I haz teh sick. :( *koff koff ACHOO*

["You are welcome," he answers in heavily-accented English. Ben relaxes as the man drapes the blanket over him, frowning. "Your volk is badly injured, Maria. Are we taking him to hospital?"]

Oh, God, I hope not. [Ben rolls, somewhat laboriously, and gets the blanket arranged under and around him.] You can stretcher me this way. Without touching me. Right?

nuuu! D: /patpats - inwhichwar, 2013-04-09 04:42 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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