#dislocated joints

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Dislocated joints are actually very fun whump concepts. Think about it:

First you have the initial injury. Be it a dislocated shoulder, hip, knee, all potential locations are dehibilitating, losing the use of that arm or being unable to walk, etc.

Also that every time the whumpee tries to move the dislocated limb they risk making it worse and intensify the pain.

Then... then you have treatment. Forcing a dislocated joint back into place is NOT FUN. Not for the whumpee, not for the caretaker. And if someone inexperienced tries and messes it up... oh boy oh boy we making it worse!

And of course you have all the issues that might come about after the joint is fixed, such as strained muscles, sprained ligaments and tendons, nerve damage, vascular (blood vessel) issues, stiff joints/osteoarthritis... the list goes on.

Anyway thinking about this bc someone I know irl dislocated both their knees on separate occasions, (and it took like four medical professionals to put it back in place). Also I remembered a scene in Mom's Night Out (2014) where Sam dislocates his shoulder and instead of letting a medical professional set it he slammed. His shoulder. Into a wall. And shoved it back in place. In the storming emergency room. In front of the receptionist. I cringe every time.

[justaminnow]

I think I misunderstood the song because my leg bone is NOT connected to my hip bone.

[whumpshaped]

Just thinking abt tiny whumpee being mistaken for a to by whumper’s kid. Imagine what they would go through before whumper finally realizes. And even then, would whumper even care?

(I’m so sorry I’ve been on a tiny whumpee kick)

🎧

as i said before in a separate post, i switched the kid for a pet! sorry it took so long to get around to it

content: accidental whump, whump by dog, tiny whump, dislocated joints, begging

"Easy d-does it," Whumpee stammered. "You're not g-gonna hurt me, are you?"

The four-legged beast — a dog, they were pretty sure — stared at them with big, uncomprehending eyes. Its tail was moving from side to side too quickly for Whumpee to follow, and they couldn't even imagine what it'd do to their body, were the dog to turn around and hit them with it.

"We're not enemies," they went on. "Just because I borrowed some of your owner's stuff, that, that d-doesn't mean..."

The thing barked, loud enough to make Whumpee clamp their hands over their ears. It pretended to pounce, almost inviting Whumpee to play along; but all they could do was cry out in fear and start running.

From the sounds of it, the beast didn't know the difference between heartfelt terror and giddy laughter. It ran after them gleefully, cornering them over and over again until Whumpee couldn't take another step. It wagged its tail as they collapsed into the grass, too exhausted to keep up the sick game of tag.

The dog poked at them with its snout, sniffing their sweat-drenched body curiously. And then, it happened — it opened its mouth and picked them up by the leg.

"Stop! No! Put me down, please, put me down!"

It had no intention of listening. Whumpee's joints creaked and popped as the creature trotted away, shaking them so much that they thought they would puke.

"What's in your mouth?" came a booming noise from the other side of the garden. It finally made the dog stop in its tracks. "What's in your mouth, huh? Look at me!"

Whumper, it was Whumper's voice. Thank goodness. Whumpee didn't even care about being discovered anymore, all they wanted was to survive. "Help! Help, please!"

But the dog had other ideas. Seemingly more than aware of its sins, it bolted.

[tumble-tv]

why must my hip dislocate when i stand up to get cheetos

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1046

Anon asked: 

Anything for dislocated joints? Character being nauseous at the sight and the reluctance toward getting it out into place? Maybe resetting it in a not-so-ideal scenario? 

“It’s fine, just leave it for now.” The whumpee said the entire mission because they could face a shoot-out, but not having their arm put back into place. 

The whumpee is happy to dislocate anything for the sake of escape, but hate having it put back. 

Setting it in the field, but having to dislocate it, then reset it back in medical because they didn’t do it right the first time. 

Having nerve damage in that area. 

The whumpee has dislocated [joint] so many times, that they have lasting weakness/pain in that area. 

Your whumpee using a makeshift sling to support the limb. 

“Why is your arm hanging like that?” “Not important.”

“You will take a bullet to the leg, witness horrors beyond our imagination and take an iv without flinching... but you refuse to even look at your dislocated knee?” “... it gives me the ick.”

“Hey guys, watch this!” *whumpee easily pops body part out and in again (for whatever the event calls for)* Everyone quietly: “what the fuck.”

[popcorn-plots]

Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this."

Title: Holmes and Watson

Words: 687 (finally, something that's not a drabble)

Summary: Sherlo-- Stephen gets injured on a casemission. WatsWong to the rescue.

~~~

Stephen groaned as he clutched his shoulder. It was supposed to be an easy fight after tracking down a rogue sorcerer through London. Technically, Stephen wasn’t even supposed to be here – it was below his paygrade, according to Master Gremm of the London Sanctum. But Stephen had been stuck doing paperwork of all things for the past week and he wanted to get out.

Well, compared to bleeding out in a random alleyway after underestimating his assailant and paperwork, Stephen probably would have stayed at home. In his defense, however, he didn’t expect that the rogue would pull out an enchanted pistol and shoot him point blank. He was also told that the rogue was barely an Apprentice when they turned on the Order, meaning that they wouldn’t have the knowledge or the skills to enchant anything, let alone a weapon. Which meant that the rogue was working with another sorcerer.

To make matters worse, Stephen was pretty sure his ankle was broken and his shoulder (the same one the rogue had shot because fuck his life) was dislocated. He had taken a hard fall into a dumpster an hour ago and walking/running had been a bitch since. He both looked (probably), smelt, and felt like utter shit.

The rogue, watching from the side, kicked Stephen in the side for good measure, eliciting a groan from him, and vanished. Stephen felt like he should give chase, cast a spell or two, but he hadn’t slept properly in a week and his cracked ribs were still healing from the last fight. So no, he wasn’t giving chase.

Stephen laid there for a second, feeling warm blood pooling around him, cooling in between his fingers. Oh, right. It had been a clean shot, the bullet went straight through his shoulder. From the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, Stephen figured it hadn't hit anything vital. Still. Another reason he wasn’t chasing the rogue, he was hemorrhaging and possibly going into shock.

Stephen watched as his non-injured arm, soaked in blood, flailed about for a bit before falling back to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen knew he had cast an SOS spell of sorts. There was a whooshing sound and Wong was kneeling beside him.

“Stephen…”

“Dislocated shoulder, broken ankle. Clean shot, there’s an exit wound.” Stephen managed to choke out. The pain wasn’t horrible, per say, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. “You gotta relocate the shoulder and set my ankle before you can move me.” Stephen breathed out.

Wong nodded. From his personal pocket dimension, Wong pulled out a spare belt. “Here, bite down on this.”

Stephen complied. The belt was rough and didn’t taste very good, but he knew he’d be grateful for it in a few seconds.

Wong gently removed Stephen’s blood-soaked hand and cast a simple spell to staunch the bleeding until they could get back to Kamar-Taj. Finally, Wong grabbed Stephen’s injured arm and, ignoring Stephen’s grunt of pain, pulled it up and rotated it.

Without warning, Wong shoved the joint back into its socket. Stephen’s scream was muffled by the belt he had bitten into. Thank the Vishanti for Wong’s gift of foresight.

Next was the ankle. Wong managed to set the bone without any complications, but it still hurt like a bitch.

When it was over, Stephen ripped the belt out and threw it to the side. “That hurt.” He groaned.

Wong stared at him as if saying, ‘no shit’. Stephen rolled his eyes and forced himself into a seated position. Wong, despite Stephen’s protests, picked him up bridal style and carried him through a portal into Kamar-Taj’s infirmary. Stephen probably wouldn’t be able to live that down, but he was secretly glad he didn’t have to walk.

They caught the rogue just a few days later, working with a Kamar-Taj insider. The insider was punished and the rogue locked up. Stephen couldn’t do anything (not that he would if given the choice, Hippocratic Oath and all) while he was wobbling around on crutches, but he could put his middle finger to good use.

Ao3

[bookofhappyescapes]

F: What’s happened to your arm?

Me: Oh, it’s about to dislocate

F: How, how do you know it’s about to dislocate???

Me: Trust me, you’d know

[bramblesramblesintoshambles]

If you didn't already know I get dislocations, thought I'd mark their frequency and pain level there's a correlation between that for obvious reasons. Saw someone else describe what they felt as rubber bands and yeah, that's accurate and at worst its pinching.

[whumpybobbert]

The Flash 1x6

Barry Allen: Knocked out, dislocated shoulder, knocked out (again), trapped under debris

Iris West: Threats of violence, kidnapping

Joe West: Loved one threatened to make him keep silent

[a-muzzled-hound]

RED WINE

TW/CW!!: Finger snapping, hand/finger stomped on, dislocation, severe mistreatment, pet-related whump/servant whump, dislocated joints, masquerade party

Calming, dark victorian music would be playing throughout the whole manor, it was something Ashtyn had never seen he believes, although he has heard all about these sorts of things. But was he ever at one in his life beforehand? No. And especially not as a servant, he’s been standing there for god knows how long, ever since the party started, watching as men, and women would enter the ballroom, in their fancy masks, greeting each one, getting pecked at from time to time, after all. He was just 17 soon to be 18, and it was something to these “people” to see such a young man working.

The man who had taken him in the first place would be standing across the room, handing out glasses and greeting his guests with a pleasant satisfied smile, as Ashtyns leg grew stiff, he had no choice but to stand still with his tray of wine glasses, no one has requested for the young man, he definitely looked sharp but, if they only knew how exhausted he was. Was he just going to stand there all night long? He couldn’t, he just could-

“Ashtyn.”

Ashtyns head perked up and looked around meeting the eyes of this man, who had taken him in earlier this year, his name would be “Gabriel Schaeffer”. He owned this fancy large estate, being quite wealthy in the business he had created for himself, housing ashtyn here as his “Guard dog” a pathetic one sure, but a "Good dog". Nodding towards Gabriel.

      “Come over here, there's some men here that’d like to speak with you.”

Gabriels' hand would wave over to Ashtyn, to Ashtyns demise his legs were so stiff, and holding a tray of fancy wine glasses, his heart sort of dropped, his eyes looking down at his legs standing there for a moment, his facial expression went sour the moment he attempted to move his leg, it instantly sending sharp pains, looking for somewhere he could maybe place the tray down. Oh no. He’d look around even more anxious, there was no table nearby he could set it down or anyone he could even ask if he could in the first place! When he looked back over at “Mr. Scaeffer” his eyes were locked deadly on Ashtyns, examining every moment Ashtyn made, Ashtyns face went pale, panic drowned him, immediately broke eye contact with Mr. Schaeffer

Ashtyn had no choice there, he had to move, he would quickly attempt moving his leg down a few inches in front of him, regretting right then, his whole body weight piling onto that leg, pain screamed in his face, scrunching all of his facial features together, him stumbling forward all at once, eyes would jump onto ashtyn with that stumble, shit! He needed to get himself together quickly- he can’t do this. Not now, he really needed to stop this.

He’d wave the tray in front of himself as an attempt to gain some balance in the pose he was in, his legs still trembling, and once when he finally gained that ounce of balance he needed back to regain all of the balance back in his body, his legs fell asleep. Falling straight forward, yelping out in utter surprise, the glasses.. Shattering across the floor with wine splattered and staining the wood floors, Ashtyns arms bringing themselves to cover his face, he stayed there in silence, not daring to stand up, he **knew** all eyes were on him, the eyes hidden by these sparkly, shiny, mysterious masks, he even started to hear whispering. 

      He could just curl up in a ball right there and die

”ASHTYN.”

His heart sunk right in his stomach his leg twitching, his face planted right on his forearms, heels would click against the floorboards getting louder and louder, after this loud clatter of a wine glass getting set down on what can be assumed as one of the glass tables sat out, the clicks of gabes heels would grow so loud it felt as if ashtyns ears were ringing, they were ringing. They had to be ringing. He didn’t dare to look up, his heart pounding against his own skin* 

The whispering would come to a halt fully when Mr. Schaeffer stopped, the heels stopped out of nowhere, Ashtyn would stay there.. Surprisingly, he couldn't find the strength to look up at this tall, strong, looming man who was furious with him, if it wasn’t apparent enough, everyone was watching surely. It’d be dead silence for about a minute, Mr Schaeffer waiting there with his eyes locked on Ashtyn, before speaking up again, there was obvious disappointment founded there

        **”Alright. You don’t want to get up and deal with this like a man? Prop your hands out, both of them”

*Ashtyn’s eyes would look up, his eyes instead looking up at Mr. Schaeffer, they went to  the tray which was kicked aside of Mr. Schaeffers left heel, he must have not heard that.. The heel clicks were so brain numbing, he couldn’t focus on anything else. Then gradually looked over at Mr. Schaeffer, they were bloodshot red, wiping his eyes slightly with his shoulder, just looking around. He felt nauseous when he actually saw all of the eyes on him, reading the eyes from person to person, each one were different, but they were all looking at ashtyn with curiosity, why did Mr. Schaeffer need his hands, after enough looking around he hurriedly looked back up at Mr. Schaeffer himself.. Hestitanly holding his hands out, holding them out as if they were waiting to receive a treat, as if they were puppy paws, he was surely going to pay for taking so long to put them out* 

“ACK!! AH! OW!!!!”

Ashtyn screamed, biting down on his lip as he’d attempt pulling his hand back, fighting off tears painfully, stinging hot tears, only able to squeeze one of his hands out, as the party guests gasped almost on command, just trying to squeeze his fingers away, Mr. Schaeffers heels had stomped right on ashtyns fingers, keeping them trapped, the more he tried to get his fingers released, his tears would weep themslelves out

”PL-PLEASE-SIR! IMSORRYI-ImSORRY!”

Ashtyn hurriedly yelped out, his teeth chattering against each other, his eyes widening as they opened seeing his fingers getting squeezed by the twisting motions of Mr. Schaeffers heel, there was no remorse on Mr. Scaeffers end though. Infact he had a small, half lipped wide smile, his eyes eventually meeting Ashtyns, with the smile dropping as he made eye contact

        “Other hand, Ashtyn.”

Ashtyns head would drop, tears dripping right onto the floorboards, his back hunching upwards before dropping flat, his other hand slowly, gradually placing itself out, it was shaking in fear, flinching horribly every few seconds, some giggling being heard in the crowd of people, he felt shame, he felt hopeless, he felt horrible, he felt dreadful, he deserved this though..- All of that would be cut shortly as his other hand got stomped on, his whole body shook as his cry was suffocated into his left shoulder, and his whole face was pink, the same pink tone an flamingo is

His fingers be crushed, one by one, underneath the force of Mr. Schaeffers heel, some pained grunting would come from ashtyn as each one was crushed, letting out a sharp cry when he heard that little..

CRACK!

His heart dropped, as the pain was imaciline, it was so awful, he didnt know.. How long he’d have to bear with this, did his fingers break? It really felt like the bone broke, dislocated.. Maybe.. There was a crack from the bone, and cracks. Theyre never good, and the fact that the heel dug in deeper. That did the trick

***“ACGH! AHH!!-!!!! AH!!”**

Ashtyns head shot up, screaming on top of his lungs, his scream grew rasp, as his dog collar flashed itself, jesus. The heel really dug all the way through his skin, It.. It fucking dislocated! He.. He broke out into sobs in the dark environment, sobbing the same way a baby would, he couldnt bear this, and when the heel moved onto his thumb, he was trembling with everything he had not to move his hand away, it would get worse if he tried moving his hands away. So.. He kept them out on this ‘wonderful’ display. Just as expected with enough pressure applied with the jamming on his thumb, it dislocated, emerged this blood-curdling scream out of him planting his head against his tricep banging it against his own tricep to take out some frustration, these hot stinging tears streamed down his face and didnt take a break on Ashtyn, no, no, no.*

“Alright kid, easy part is over.”

This hard, grimy, stressful pressure on his thumb would be lifted, ashtyns heart skipping a beat after that was said, easy part..? What..? His eyes would slowly look up at Mr. Schaeffer, they were bloodshot red with pink puffed cheeks, w-wha-..? His hands shook around in a bubble almost. He- Why didn’t he just get up in the first place?! W-Why?

His knees would had already themselves up to Ashtyns chest, barely holding the capability of even building himself up, as he nodded, uttering out a tear-filled* “Y-Yes. Sir!!” *his emotional state was hinted in his breaking-up voice, as he’d slowly stumble up, collecting himself together last moment his hands dropping to his side, his eyes would take a look around suddenly, shame really struck him.

  ”Right, since you could not get up, *simple am I right?* And then get a mop and dust pan, *also simple*, you’ll pick up the glass with your hands and lick the wine off of the ground, I hope I make myself clear”

“..Y-Yes sir.”

Ashtyn was in shock, there’s no denying but, if he said the wrong thing here, think about how utterly humiliated he would be, in front of all of these people. I mean- he had already been humiliated to itty bits, he just had his fingers dislocated!

through his teary eyes they made their way back to the wine, slowly kneeling down with some snot and tears getting mixed on his face as he wiped his face with his sleeves the best he could, he’d attempt to keep his eyes away from the dislocated fingers.. maybe. If he didn’t look at them, they wouldnt feel so bad as if he did look at them.

Ashtyn bowed his head in stinging pain, struggling to do what Mr. Scaeffer requested. Lick the wine just hurriedly licking at the wine when he snapped back into the reality of things, Mr Schaefer was waiting, that. Did not do Ashtyn's fingers have any hood last time this man had to wait, did it?

Ashtyn would continuously licking on it, despite all of the shoes that had hit the spot, despite all of the grim that had once been on this floor, despite all of the people that had once stood on this spot, but hey! The floors are freshly shined but those humiliating thoughts was waving around the back of Ashtyn’s mind, as he’d lick, lick, and lick up the wine as well as he could, scraping his tongue on this spot

This wine licking would go on for quite some time, hurriedly trying to lick all of it all, even licking off of his tears at some point. Once he figured this would be good enough, he’d tilt his head up to look at Mr Schaefer, mumbling

“D-D— is this-is good enough..?”

”Speak up.”

Ahtyn would swallow this huge lump in his throat with his eyes perfectly facing Mr Schaffer’s eyes, before speaking up after a long pause of attempting not to cry

“D-.. do you think thi-this is good enough- sir?”

Mr schaeffers eyes would run across the floor it was clean, glossy even, only thing left was the broken glass left across the floor, he’d give Ashtyn this approving nod

It felt as if a weight just got lifted on him. But it was shortly put back on when he realized the glass, it was ensured that he was going to cut his hands on the glass, not to mention they hurled so much from earlier he doubted himself. But, what was he going to say? do?

He would scoot himself over to the ground where some of the first glass remained, some laughter could be heard from behind him, attempting to ignore it. He knew he looked stupid. He didn’t need anyone else to say it. his hands would approach one glass shard shakily attempting to grab it pricking his ring finger, ashtyn jumping back abit grinding his teeth back and forth to not scream or have a breakdown, he’d just attempt to grab it again instead with two hands, with some discussion stirring up, it most certainly was not good.

That glass shard pricked his ring finger once again, slicing it, he had no choice. He’d attempt a different technique, sweeping the glass onto his palm, which was shaking so, it wasnt all that good, but hey. Atleast it wasnt pricking his finger as much as the previous technique was, just picking up, dropping it, picking it back up nervously, prick. Sure the shards cut his fingers, but, what debate did ashtyn have? When he was almost done, the glass shards he had collected would be stained bright red, with his finger tips having so many cuts, his hands were such a gory mess, it was honestly scary to ashtyn, the fact that he was doing this to himself, gave him the chills. Why? Hes always been hurt, in every way, why is it so heartbreaking now?

Once he was done, he’d place them on the tray with some glass shards still launched in some open cuts, although these glass shards were TINY, he couldn't deal with them now.. Maybe later on, but, his hands, he couldnt touch them, so. That is what made picking up the tray so difficult, the glass shards, the dislocated fingers, the pain, and the mental torment reminders from the frequent giggles from the crowd, he’d stay there adjusting his grip on the tray to hurt least, although. It was pretty much useless, he held it in both of his palms, standing up, standing right infront of Mr. Scaeffer, having a quivering lip

“Go put the tray in the dish washer, now. And head straight to your room, I am disappointed, I expected so much better out of you. And you know that.”

“Y-Y-..” 

“Yes.. sir."

[forestshadow-wolf]

Blossoms of Love (chapter 8)

cracks and crashes

Pairing: soap/ghost

tags: angst, plane crash(s), panic attack, gore, hurt/comfort, hanahaki

please look at the provided tags above ^^^ if you don't think you can read it but still want to follow drop a reply or send an ask/message and I'll be happy to give a light summary. (fyi these tags will be a common occurrence in this story) please be safe yall.

Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || chapter 7

Ghost groaned awake with the rattling of the cabin, and howling wind just outside the metal walls. He vaguely recognized the tense soldiers clutching at the straps in the seats in front of him, but none of them were from the 141. No Gaz and price, they must’ve been on another assignment- no. no that wasn’t right, they were on a mission that was supposed to be just the 4 of them. So where were they? Where was Soap? He was always accompanied by Soap, Price knew they worked best together. So where was he? Why was he here with these men? Who was shaking him so frantically?

“Johnny?” he got no response.

When he looked over to see who it was, he was met with a plain beige colored mask and frantic hands waving in his face. This was most definitely not soap. It was someone he knew. Someone who scratched his memory in a certain way. Someone who his brain tried to keep him from remembering. Someone. Someone. Someone. Someon- ROACH! Roach was trying to tell him something, but his mind was sluggish, and his hands were moving too fast.

“Roach slow down, I can’t- I can’t understand you.” the hands stopped abruptly.

‘SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE PLANE!’ Roach signed rushed, but clearly.

“Shit. ok, strap in.” he said, as he stood to get the attention of everyone else on the plane. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the cabin shook violently, nearly knocking him into Roach’s lap, he righted himself quickly even if he knew he’d catch him. Yellow plastic dropped from the ceiling.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We’ve been hit! I repeat! We have been hit by enemy missiles!” came through the intercom above.

“Everybody strap in!” He sat in a seat only a space away from Roach.

There was a metal on metal sound, and immediately the plane rocked to one side. For one eternity-moment the plane rotated nearly 90 degrees. And then they were weightless as they nose-dive spiraled towards the ground. Roach grabbed onto his hand in search of reassurance, and he gave it freely, squeezing back.

Outside the wind found a catch in the metal, and tugged. The metal ripped and rolled, like an aluminum sheet. It pulled away from the plane, exposing the cabin to vicious winds. Winds that tugged, and tore at hoods and loose clothing. Wind that yanked at gun slings and necklaces, that choked, and rubbed skin raw, and drew blood. Wind that dragged metal from metal, snapping bolts and welds. Wind that pulled seat from floor. Wind that took and took and took.

There was an awful groaning, screech that could have had his ears bleeding, had he been able to hear anything other than wind in his ears. The hand in his tightened to an almost painful degree, not that it mattered. The pressure along his arm, in his chest, multiplied exponentially, tenfold; only stopping as the straps holding him to his chair cut into his skin, and still it increased. It took him a moment too long to realize what was happening.

Then it was over, the moment ripped away, removing joint from socket along with it. He felt it, the pop as pressure released. He heard it reverberate through his skull, his arm went numb with debilitating pain, the air punched from his lungs. His hand was empty, his glove stolen away as well. His thumb hung at a wrong angle, the skin and a good chunk of meat had been ripped clean off his thumb and the outside edge of his hand. Blood immediately began pouring off his fingertips, as the wind pulled at the exposed flesh. But it was all mute to what he’d just witnessed

Roach was gone. Stolen away by the wind because it took half the plane, it took him. It. Took. Him. Took him. Took him. Took him. It all happened too fast and too slow. He barely knew what was happening before it happened. He should have done something. How was he just gone? He should have held on. Roach was right there. He should hav-

~~~~~~~~~

“-nning decent, wheels down in 30. Strap in if you haven’t already.” he woke with a start, as Nik spoke over the intercom. The cabin rocked just slightly, as he groaned and his racing heart began to slow, he blew out a tense breath.

“Oh sae ye’ll wake fer Nik, who isnae even ‘ere. But ah’ve been tryin’ fer the past five minutes and you wilnae.” soap exasperated with a smile.

“Sorry Johnny, not everyone wants to be greeted by a scot first thing when they wake up.” he teased, he couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t mind waking up to a specific scot every morning. Soap gasped fake offense.

“Ah’ll have ye know that Scotland is the country of the great unicorn, which everybody loves.” it was so… enduring? That it made his throat burn anew, choking off his words before they even came.

“Mhmm” he hummed, feigning skepticism, to cover his lack of ability to speak. He nearly rubbed the sleep from his eyes before remembering his mask, instead he pulled his mask back down and tucked it under the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at Soap’s disappointment, as he pushed himself up to sit properly in his seat. A few minutes later there was a thunk and a scarily unnatural putter of one of the engines, that set off a twinge of something unpleasant in his gut.

“-SHIT! We hit a flock o’ bloody birds! Prepare for a rough landing!” Nik’s voice rang throughout the cabin, as the plane shuddered.

His shoulder pinched with phantom pains, his breathing came out a little rougher, and his hand ached beneath its glove. He glanced over at Soap, he wanted him beside him; where he couldn’t fly away, and suddenly his chest burned and he couldn’t hold the hack that came out. He could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in his mask, which he didn’t acknowledge. It brought a single red-edged bit of green and a small mangle of red-pink lavender spindles, which he didn’t let escape his mouth. He couldn’t unless he wanted to really play into the vampire act. Instead he ground his teeth together and swallowed it all down in a thick, disgusting amalgamation of blood and plant fungus, Jesus maybe he really was a vampire. His face screwed up, he was an inch away from gagging it all up again, but a deep inhale through his nose beat the urge down.

“Come sit over here, Johnny.” shit. He said that out loud, didn’t he. “There’ll be less knockin’ ‘round over here.” Good save, Ghost. Real smooth.

“Aye, thanks fer tha heads up, L.T.”, Soap smiled at him as he moved. He nodded, already looking towards Price and Gaz, can’t show too much favoritism if his lie was going to have any sort or plausability.

“Cap! Gaz! You’ll save your necks a bit o’ pain over here.” he offered to the two, sticking to the bit. his knees knocked with Soap’s as he settled. Price and Gaz moved the few seats over with an appreciative nod, as the plane began to rattle around them.

The plane’s shaking grew more and more drastic as they continued their descent.. Well controlled crash. His hearing muffled for a moment before his ears popped, and then he was in a different plane with different people. He blinked and he was back, with three men and a well known pilot, clutching onto his chair straps with his leg firmly pressed into his sergeant’s. Soap pushed back with a grounding pressure that kept him in his own mind. He kept his gaze on soap’s face, cataloging the shades of blue in his eyes, the slight crook in his nose, the slight unevenness of his lips, the kink in his one eyebrow that the other didn’t have, the spider-webbing scar on his chin.

There must have been a glimmer of something in his eyes because soap hooked his ankle onto his leg, and pulled just slightly. He didn’t say anything about it, just studied his eyes. His throat burned and his lungs forced him to take over his own breathing, as the plane wobbled unsteadily towards the ground below. 

“Brace! Brace! Brace!” the intercom sparked into life with Nik’s warning. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, as he waited for impact. Soap hugged his leg tighter with his own.

The cabin bounced on the initial impact, and he thought he heard the sound of metal ripping outside. For a single horribly long moment he thought he was back in the air, spiraling out of control, and then he was flung into the straps along his chest. When he opened his eyes, blue seas were looking back, and Price was asking if he was okay; obviously remembering the last time he was in a plane crash. He wasn’t there, these eyes were blue not green, they were all okay.

He didn’t answer Price, not yet, not until interia tried to throw forward. Only then did he tear his gaze away from those blue eyes, to look at price and give him a firm nod. His fingers ached from the pressure that he was holding onto his straps, but he knew that the moment he pried them off they would shake like a leaf. He allowed himself a moment to breathe, before looking over the others.

“Everybody good?” He was first to speak, before even price. The litany of yes’s reassured him. He forced his fingers to loosen, to work the buckles loose, as he untangled his leg from Soap’s so he coils stand up.

“Nik, you still with us?” he clicked his radio on.

“Takes more than that to get rid of me, lieutenant.” The response came after a moment of silence. Everyone let out a tense breath at that.

He offered Soap his hand to help him up, as Gaz did the same for Price, and Nik appeared through the entrance to the cockpit. They all looked to Price now. It was his decision now, as captain, if they should continue on with the mission or not. The man let out a sigh, as the gears turned in his head.

“How far you reckon we are from original drop?”

“Not far. Few clicks maybe, spotted it on our way down, sir.” Nik answered. He nodded.

“And nobody’s hurt?”, he received a chorus of no’s. “Then we salvage what we can and set up camp, like we planned. I’ll let Laswell know we’re gonna need a new exfil once we establish communications.”, the ‘yes sir’s circulated before they all got started on the work ahead of them.

-----------------

@checkerscharlie @halb-nichts @heyitsropi @trekkie-in-space @lavenderstem

[justaminnow]

*takes muscle relaxers and pain medicine for subluxation*

Me: im not in pain and I can move around a bit. I was being dramatic and should have gone to work! Probably shouldn't have scheduled that doctor's appointment.

*medication wears off*

Me: I'm in so much pain. Do I need to go to the ER? Am I going to get any sleep tonight? I feel like I can't move. Help.

[whumpshaped]

claustrophobia + dislocation

tw dislocated joints, enclosed spaces, exploiting claustrophobia, suffocation, nonhuman whumpee, conditioned whumpee, death wish

“Please! No! Please, I’ll behave, I’ll do whatever you want, please! Please!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Whumper hissed. “You haven’t messed up like this in years, and I thought you finally learned your lesson. But I guess I expected too much from a stupid animal like you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Whumpee cried. “I didn’t mean to, I’ll do my best to make it up to you, it was an accident, please–” Their head collided painfully with the wall as Whumper shoved them, and they came away concussed, suddenly seeing two of the dreaded box.

“I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

Whumper was right, they hadn’t messed up like this in ages. And if they had been human, this probably would’ve meant nothing in relation to their punishment. But being an eldritch creature whose body changed differently over the years… there was now a second problem in addition to their debilitating claustrophobia.

“Fuck,” Whumper groaned, trying to push their disoriented victim inside. “Did you get even bigger? God fucking dammit. I should’ve gotten rid of you so long ago. You’re nothing but a hassle.”

Whumpee’s slurred pleas did nothing to dissuade them. Despite their repeated mentions of giving Whumpee away instead, and leaving them out in the woods where they belonged, Whumper didn’t give up on the box. They were stubborn, to the point of actually dislocating several of Whumpee’s joints just to make them fit inside. It was torture in and of itself.

When the lid was closed and they were left in the darkness, with their limbs folding in on themselves, sweaty and nauseous, for the first time in their life, they wished they were dead. Panic clawed at their chest stronger than they were able to claw at the sides of the box, and they screamed to be let out despite it making their headache absolutely agonising. The sound was trapped in the small place, bouncing off the awfully close surfaces and reverberating inside of their damaged skull, making it feel like it was eventually going to split in half.

Minutes passed like that, with nothing but their own sobbing, the dark, and the stiffness and aching of their joints. Each one of them was only getting more difficult to bear, but in the end, they had no choice. They had to bear it, even when it seemed impossible. 

Even when they began suffocating again. 

Even when the air ran out completely, and they were left to choke on the semi-happy memories of the past years, the ones they’d spent performing well enough to earn Whumper’s utterly conditional kindness, which consisted of little more than a lack of straight up abuse.

They had forgotten their place again. Reflecting on it like this was surely going to serve them.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

dislocated & whimper + daero or shae?

from this list!

sorry it took a while. I'm not 100% back writing wise yet. Or even 50% really :')

Content Warnings: tiny whump, failed escape attempt, falling from a height, dislocated joints, capture

----

In his hurried escape from a human's garage, Shae abandons all caution or sense. The faerie scrambles through the clutter of an old wooden shelf, dodging tools and containers, heading towards a small, partly open window

A sudden splinter pierces his bare feet and Shae topples forward into a messy pile of twine. Thinking he's been caught, he struggles and thrashes, and in doing so only tangles his little limbs further.

Hurry, gotta hurry...he'll be back at any moment...

Shae gives up trying to free himself and continues his frantic dash to freedom, stumbling the whole way. The twine goes with him, all but a knotted loop at the end that catches on a nail in the wood.

At the last moment, just as he's about to reach the window sill, Shae stumbles. Instead of dropping out through the window, he finds himself falling down through a gap between the shelf and the wall.

The tangle of string around his body catches him at the edge for just a moment. One small moment of hope before it unwinds, sending Shae spiraling downward like a yo-yo. He can't even brace himself.

Mere inches before impact the loose twine runs out and snaps taut. The places where it is looped around the faerie's limbs tighten and end his fall abruptly.

The sharp and sudden stop knocks the breath from him. At the same time there are multiple pops accompanied by bursts of pain in both shoulders and one hip. It's so much, so fast, so painful, that he can't catch his breath again and passes out.

--

That was hours ago.

Shae is awake now, and desperately wishes he wasn't.

"There you are."

The low voice rumbles far too close; the human's shadow blocks out the light from the open door.

A large hand reaches for him. It closes around him and pulls. The twine strains but doesn’t snap.

Shae feels like he might snap. The low simmering pain in his swollen joints rages. His mouth falls open. He can’t - can’t breathe - 

When the human finally pulls him free Shae is dizzy with pain and nearly blacks out again. His limbs dangle limp from the man’s grip, adorned with rings of rope burn.

With what little breath he has he tries to beg for mercy, for gentleness...but all that comes out is a whimper.

[transmasccofee]

really hes an icon

[sebs-out-of-spoons]

i’m going wheelchair/cane shopping tomorrow at a local thrift store, so excited, WISH ME LUCK EVERYONE :3