#dislocated shoulder

[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.

[whump-galaxy]

A character’s arms being tied above their head for so long that their arms dislocate and eventually their muscles atrophy.

[jasmines-library]

Oh, Baby.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 21. Prompt: Vehicular accident.

Fandom: supernatural.

Summary: on the way back from a hunt, an out of control car veers into yours sending it hurtling off of the path and into a tree, leaving you trapped. Too far from the hospital, the Winchesters are left with the task of getting your body from the car as they wait for Cas to arrive.

Warnings: car crash, dislocated shoulder, broken bones/ribs, blood.

Word count: 1.4K

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Dean was driving too fast. His foot was pressed all the way down on the pedal as he let the impala fly down the road. He was drumming along to the rhythm of the music as you and Sam sang. The hunt had been successful and spirits were high. The three of you were looking forward to a hot shower and a warm bed, because the night was cold and an eerie chill hung in the air.

The October chill had cast a fog over the road, which obscured everything further than a few metres ahead, but Baby was nearing Kansas and Dean knew the roads well, so he wasn’t too fussed by the narrow roads.

But what happened next came out of nowhere. Another passing car had skidded off of the road and veered into your lane. It smashed into the left passenger side of Baby, sending her sliding off the path. Your side of the car took the brunt of the impact as it collided with a tree. The motion sent your body sliding roughly into the door with a force that was sure to leave bruises. The glass spiderwebbed and then shattered, raining down hundreds and thousands of tiny glass flakes over your head.

Dean groaned when the car stilled, sitting up abruptly. His chest felt tight where the seat belt had flattened against his ribs, so he fumbled to unclip his seatbelt. As he twisted he caught sight of his brother whose head hung low against his chest. There was glass in his hair and a small cut on his temple.

“Sam.” Dean reached over to shake his brother. “Sammy.”

Sam sat up abruptly but immediately regretted the pull in his side. “What..?”

“Are you ok?” Dean took in the caved in metal, pissed that he would have to rebuild it again.

“Fine.” Sam brushed the glass from his hair as he too surveyed the damage. But his eyes widened and he gripped his brother's arm when he suddenly remembered you in the backseat. “Y/n.”

The two of them manoeuvred their bodies in the small space so that they could face you. Some of the roof had caved in, which made it hard to see, but they managed to make out your unconscious body in the darkness. It was crumpled against the doorframe. Your head rested on the window ledge, hair matted with blood from where it had collided with the frame and scraped against the shards of glass. Your arm hung at a concerning angle, and they were almost 100% sure your shoulder was dislocated, but they couldn’t tell from this angle.

Dean reached over the seat, straining his body but you were too far away for him to reach you, so he tried to call your name. You didn’t move.

Dean cursed and pushed hard on his doors to open it. “See if you can get her door open.”

Sam forced the door open and clambered out of the car as his brother made his way round the crushed bonnet. Half of your door was completely obscured by the tree that had made the car stop spiralling out of control, making it impossible to open the door.

Dean rammed his fist into the side of the car in a fit of rage.

“Fuck! Sam help me move the car.”

The Winchesters shuffled round to the back of the car and began to haul the car away from the tree. It took a great amount of effort and their boots leaving dents in the frosty ground of them to move the impala, but when it finally inched far enough away from the tree and your door was visible, they breathed a sigh of relief. But immediately took it back when they tugged in the misshaped handle and the door didn’t budge.

Then Dean tried to rouse you again, reaching through the window and rousing your body. You whined as all of the pain flooded in at once.

“Sweetheart?”

You twisted your head to glance up at him through droopy eyes. “Dean?”

“It’s us.”

You whimpered as you tried to shift, pinned down by your seatbelt. “Hurts.”

“We know sweetheart. We’re gonna get you out of there. Just hold on for us okay?”

You nodded, but made no noise.

Sam tried the handle again but it was stuck down firmly as if someone had welded the pieces together and then encased them in a layer of concrete just to make sure that they were secure.

He then considered the window. They could pull you out from it but that would run the risk of injuring you further, especially with the shards of glass jutting out from the bottom. It was far from Sam’s first choice, but at the moment it was looking like their only option.

“Give me your jacket.” He reached out a hand to his brother.

“What?” Without his jacket the cold air would bite at Dean’s skin. Sam knew this, but Dean’s jacket was thicker than his and would provide you more protection when they moved you.

“Just give it to me.”

Dean shrugged it off after pocketing his phone and placed it in his brother's hands who then laid it across the bottom of the window and leaned forwards to talk to you.

“Okay Kid I need you to unbuckle your seatbelt. Can you do that for me?”

You fumbled blindly for the buckle, wincing at the tug on your arm and ribs, both of which were already forming dark bruises and were more likely than not broken in some places. You relaxed as the pressure lessened, but without the fabric keeping you in place, your body slumped forwards.

Sam hooked his arm under your shoulders ready to guide you out of the window. “This is gonna hurt sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

When Sam tugged upwards you screamed. Every inch of your body burned as he slid you out of the window. The strain on your shoulder was immense, and the brothers were now certain that it was dislocated.

“Stop.” You begged. “Please.”

Sam’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I can’t.”

He pulled you out the last stretch of the window without adding too many cuts to your fragile body, only a few nicks here or there. Dean helped ease you down onto the ground.

“Cas is on his way.” He told his brother, who gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment because his full attention was on you. It was too far to get to the hospital in time.

“We have to pop it back in.” Dean told him, gesturing to your shoulder. “If we leave it like that it’s going to get worse.”

Sam bit his lip. “I know.”

“Please… it hurts” you whimpered. “No more. Please.”

“Just a little bit more and then it’ll stop. I promise.” Sam told you, bracing his hands on your shoulders as Dean leaned you against his chest. You cried into his chest, clinging onto his shirt to hide from the cold.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

“On three.” Sam said. “One. Two-“

He rolled the joint, forcing it back into place before you had time to brace yourself. You cried out sharply, nursing your arm as tears flooded your cheeks.

Shakily he removed his hands.

“All done, y/n. All done.”

Dean rubbed your back gently and cast a worried gaze at his brother who towered above the two of you.

It was fateful waiting for the flutter of wings. Dean held you close to his chest as you shivered. Whether it was from the pain or the cold he didn’t know, but they had to keep forcing you awake when your eyes drifted shut. As Dean held you, Sam made work of trying to salvage anything from the car. He had found a blanket wedged in the backseat and draped it over your shoulders.

At last, Cas finally appeared.

“I am sorry.” He rattled out. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Can you help her?” Sam asked.

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on your forehead from where a blinding light was emitted and then a wave of calm washed over you, soothing all your aches and pains before you fell asleep against Dean’s chest.

“She should be fine now.” Cas instructed “she just needs to rest.”

“Thank you.” Dean pulled your sleeping form and smiled gently into your hair, glad to still have you by his side for a while longer.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 21 ⛤ DAY 23 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[tblsomedoodles]

Why are you here? Comic

They're dumbasses, your honor. Like, at this moment, neither of them actually believe they're sibling. (Mikey and Leo are dead set on it but these two are skeptical.) Yet they spend two minutes alone and devolve into sibling bickering. something i had not planned on when i went to make this comic. They did this on their own lol!

Bonus Traximus Reaction to finding his ward bickering like a child with one of the newbies

Honestly, it's actually a pretty important moment for both Rafa and Traximus. Rafa because that's that's the moment they realize Donny has like no self preservation instinct, so if he won't protect himself, Rafa will, while he's around to do it at least. It's important for Traximus b/c for the first time in years, he's seeing his ward acting like a child and he pretty much decides right then and there that 1) They're definitely siblings, and 2) if these 3 strangers actually manage to escape this place, he is making Rafa go with them.

Anyways, here's my little experiment with limited color pallets. I'm not sure i'll do this again b/c it was kinda annoying to figure out the colors first (especially since i knew i wanted both variations of red and purple but couldn't find a good pallet for that. Thus i ended up with this one.)

ps. Donny's shoulder is a reoccurring problem at this point b/c he won't let it rest long enough to heal properly. The injury first happened during "shredder strikes back" events and since Donny decided to start his training pretty much immediately upon getting to the farm house, it hasn't had the rest it needs to properly recover. theoretically, it should be healed by now, but he keeps pushing himself and re-injuring it, a fact he's been hiding as much as he possibly can.

[just-here-for-the-whump]

Hawaii 5-0 3x17 Pa'ani

[spacevixenmusic]

Source: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles [2005]

[noisilyeclecticmilkshake]

A List of Mundane Things You Can't Do With A (Partially)Dislocated Shoulder

For some whump writing maybe *wink wink* dislocated one of my shoulders and seriously hurt the other one in the same accident a few months back and was surprised of how limiting it was. These are my personal experiences, it can certainly be different for other people.

There's a lot here so putting a keep reading thing below.

Sneeze! Holy shit this hurts, even lying in bed if my arm was in the wrong position and I sneezed, damn.

Open a car door. I had to learn to pull with my elbow and not my shoulder

Get out of bed. Especially immediately after a dislocation, my entire arms hurt so getting up and out of bed was a struggle.

Driving(Not impossible but definitley painful). Thinking about your shoulder when you turn the wheel, I did some very slow right hand turns.

Putting on a jacket. This generally required reaching behind you to some degree so there were definitely days where I just didn't wear a jacket

Taking a shirt off. Can't grab the hem, too much shoulder movement, I had to learn to grab the back of my shirt collar and pull from there.

Wearing a binder. In the same vein, way too much shoulder strength/movement needed to don or doff a binder.

Close the sunroof. It was a good 2 months before I could reach behind me enough to close the sunroof of my car without being in pain.

Opening a pill bottle. Apparently, a lot of shoulder goes into opening those little child proof caps (it felt like a cruel joke). I had to get someone to help me especially with two messed up shoulder.

Wear a backpack. Yeah, I had to do this on my "good" shoulder, still hurt to carry around and pretty sure that shoulder is messed up for good.

Throw things. Obviously, but its been like almost 4 months and I still can't really throw things with either arm without feeling it.

Sleep. Good luck finding a sleeping position that isn't painful, I like to sleep on my side, and it was a difficult adjustment.

Just a couple of extra things.

Those arm sling get HOT! and sweaty, but without one it definitely feels like your arm is just hanging out of its socket.

One of the tests they do it to grab your other shoulder with the hand form the dislocated arm and OMG! my arm made some ungodly crunch noise. Xray dude wasn't fazed, but I thought my arm was ruined. (From what he said you def. can't do the pose with a fully dislocated shoulder)

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light - Ch. 12 - Absolution

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend | Hunger | Thin Mints | The Garden | Philip | Moments | Full Moon pt 1 | Full Moon pt 2 | Tend |

Author's Notes: shoutout to the anon who remembered that Matteo's shoulder is dislocated before I did

Content Warnings: werewolf whump, vampire caretaker, dislocated shoulder (and putting it back in place), severe pain, guilt, angst, biting, drinking blood, anesthesia by way of vampire

----

Swirling shapes in Matteo's blurred vision slowly materialize into the coffered ceiling above. He stares at it for a long time. Not thinking, not feeling, just admiring the intricate pattern.

It is a newly familiar sight - the ceiling of the bedroom he has been allowed to stay in for a month now.

But...maybe not for much longer.

He closes his eyes and begins to drift off again...

Feeling returns like a blow to the gut.

"Wh- hah - ah - AGH!!"

A sharp spasm sends white hot pain shooting down his arm and up his neck. Matteo grits his teeth, holds his throbbing shoulder and breathes rapidly in and out through a surge of dizzy nausea.

In an instant Dante is by his side. He takes Matteo's wrist and carefully bites down, the slight pinch made less painful and more comforting by the knowledge that relief will follow.

"Wait," he pants, feebly batting at Dante's face, "stop..."

Dante goes still. Then the fangs pull free from his skin as cautiously as when they pierced it. He licks away the forming beads of blood.

"Matteo," he says calmly, "let me do this."

"I need...to talk to you..."

"You need to rest."

"Please!"

Dante stares at him.

"...fuck." He sits back in his chair and pushes his long hair back from his face. "You don't even need hypnosis."

Matteo catches his breath. He pulls himself together enough to look Dante in the eye.

"I'm sorry."

Dante's expression softens. "Matteo...we can talk about this when you feel better."

His tone is so gentle it brings tears to his eyes.

"I should have told you. You deserved to know what was staying under your roof. I knowingly put you in danger."

"Matteo - "

"It was so nice to just feel normal for a little while," he admits. "I thought if you knew it would ruin everything, but I ruined everything anyway."

Dante is quiet, processing the confession. He doesn't look angry - he looks hurt, which feels even worse. When he finally speaks his words are considered and careful.

"You know what I am. You know I'm not normal. Didn't you think I would understand?"

Matteo blinks quickly and feels a lump form in his throat. His emotions are always heightened in the days immediately following a full moon, and pain isn't helping.

"Yeah. I know. I know. It's not that I thought you wouldn't. I thought - I sort of thought - um - " Matteo groans and covers his face with his good hand. "God, this is going to sound so stupid."

Dante waits. Doesn't rush him.

"I guess I thought vampires and werewolves were enemies. That's what happens in all the books and movies right? What if we're supposed to hate each other?"

Dante has a strange look on his face. The hurt is gone, replaced with relief and subtle amusement.

"Did you know that in some stories, vampires can also turn into wolves?"

"Really? So...can you?"

"No, I can't. And if that version isn't true, then maybe the version where we hate each other isn't either."

If Matteo only knew how someday he would look back on those words as the moment his heart belonged to Dante.

And it is that same moment when his shoulder decides to twinge. He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses.

Dante moves to the edge of the bed and gingerly feels over the injured area.

"How did I miss this?" he mutters, "It's dislocated. Hold on..."

Matteo whines when Dante's cool hands disappear to grab a book from the nightstand and flip through it. He closes his eyes, bites his lip and suffers in silence while Dante reads.

"I think I can fix it. But only if you let me numb you."

Matteo nods in frantic agreement. "Yes. Yes, okay."

Those hands return, cradling Matteo's hurting arm. Then fangs puncture the skin and a cool numbing sensation bursts from them and spreads over him like a soothing breeze. Matteo lets out a long sigh.

"Have a snack while you're there," he offers drowsily.

Dante must be thirsty if he acquiesces so quickly. When he pulls his fangs a way a moment later, he's licking blood from his lips.

"What does it taste like?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, sure."

"It's hard to describe. But I guess the closest thing I can think of is...like warm tea with honey."

He doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't that.

"Wow," he whispers. "That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said bout me."

Dante chuckles and Matteo regrets his eyes being closed before he can see it. He positions his hands on Matteo's arm and shoulder.

"Here goes nothing...one, two..."

Matteo shudders when his shoulder pops back into place but feels little more than a dull ache. He wants to say thank you but his thoughts turn to fog and the patterns on the ceiling fade away.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Dislocated Shoulder Whump

Warnings: dislocated shoulder, intense pain, careless/annoyed carewhumper

Heehee here's a short scene where Shadow gets to be a grumpy, reluctant carewhumper when Thomas accidentally dislocates his shoulder during a fight. How inconvenient for Shadow to be forced to help! 😂

Poor Thomas, he never catches a break.

It was too late for Thomas to dodge the soldier rushing toward him. The soldier was making a mad dash for the exit he was standing in front of, and that was the problem: he was standing in front of it.

Thomas tried to scramble out of the way, but was a hair too slow. The soldier was too desperate to escape, and couldn't care less about the human of an object in his path. He charged right through him, accidently clipping him in the shoulder on the way out, hard enough that it sent Thomas slamming into the wall behind him.

As soon as he hit the wall, there was a sickening pop, followed by a zing of sharp pain that ran through his whole right arm, and then he suddenly couldn't move it anymore.

Thomas crumpled to the floor with a gasp as pain radiated throughout his entire arm and shoulder, quickly spreading across his chest. It was an intense, overwhelming agony that overtook him, and he gritted his teeth against it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could Shadow moving nimbly around as she took down the last few soldiers in the room, before she leaned down to pick up her dagger and sheath it again. He could only hope she'd be able to help him out of whatever he'd just gotten himself into. But it hurt... so... much...

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

*Switching to Shadow POV*

Shadow heard the cry of pain, but was too busy fighting to spare the source a glance. Only when she had knocked the last man out did she look over to see Thomas twitching on the floor in pain, one shoulder sticking out at an unnatural angle.

"I… I can't move my arm!" He exclaimed, panicking. "Am I dying? I'm dying, aren't I?!"

Shadow walked over and loomed over him with arms crossed over her chest and rolled her eyes at what she thought to be his over-dramatization, before remembering that Thomas had never experienced a serious injury of any kind before, and it made her understand why he would be so terrified. From his perspective, it must literally feel like he was dying. She could hear his heart racing faster than a rabbit's with adrenaline.

She kneeled next to him with an unhurried sigh and tentatively touched his shoulder, feeling around the muscles to get an idea of how bad the dislocation was. Thomas yelped in pain, and instinctively tried to jerk away, but Shadow put her knee over his stomach and leaned her weight onto him to keep him pinned down.

"Mmhmm, that's definitely a bad one," she said in absent observation after a few moments. Shadow knew how to relocate the joint, but first needed Thomas to stop panicking. She needed his muscles to relax a little to make it easier for the joint to pop back into place... and his hyperventilating was only exacerbating the whole situation.

"Good grief, you're not dying! Pull yourself together," she snapped, exasperated. She could tell that Thomas was on the brink of passing out because of the fast, shallow breaths he was taking, which was causing the carbon dioxide in his blood to drop too low. She let out a weary sigh and put a firm hand on his chest.

"Look at me, listen to my voice. You need to calm down. Slow your breathing, okay? Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly," she instructed sternly, trying to sound reassuring, which certainly wasn't her strong suit.

"Focus on filling your lungs up as full as you can, and then let it all out, and relax. Release the tension. I'm right here to help you, kid. You don't have to keep panicking."

There was something oddly comforting about her words, even though "comforting" was probably the last thing Thomas would use to describe Shadow. Regardless, he tried to focus on her gruff voice, gradually slowing his breathing down increment by increment, feeling his racing heartbeat finally start to calm.

"Good. Now I'm going to put your shoulder back in place, all right? It’s guaranteed to hurt like crazy, but bear with me. Are you ready?" Shadow said, looming over him. She took his wrist in one hand and placed the other near his shoulder.

Thomas nodded weakly, bracing himself.

Shadow gave him a countdown. "Three, two, zero--" In a single sharp, swift motion, she suddenly jerked his arm straight forward, and a loud pop followed as the shoulder joint slid back into place.

It was cruel of her to surprise him with a fake countdown, Thomas distantly thought. He let out a strangled shriek, and had to bite his tongue hard to avoid screaming in agony.

Then, he felt gentle waves of magic flow through his arm, repairing damaged ligament and muscle tissue. It took the edge off his pain, lessening it to a dull throb. One of the many perks of having someone like Shadow as an ally. He finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relief flooding him.

"See? That wasn't so bad, now, was it?" Shadow smirked knowingly. She put an arm under his back and helped him slowly sit up, before effortlessly pulling him to his feet with surprising strength.

"Let's get out of here before anyone sees us, shall we?"

"Shadow... Thank you. Seriously," Thomas croaked gratefully, gently trying out his newly healed shoulder with a wince. He looked at the floor sheepishly.

Shadow shifted her weight uncomfortably at his sincere gratitude.

"Let's... just try not to ever do that again, all right?" She said tensely.

Masterlist #1 - all of my whump stories

Masterlist #2 - all stories specifically involving my OCs Shadow and Thomas

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[friendlylocalwhumper]

This new conditioner is nice. It smells like cotton and perfume. Curls splay loose and fuzzy across his shoulders, soft from the warmth of being pressed to the pillow for the whole nap.

A hand skims across the ridges of his back. Only Emory’s familiar fingertips get to trace the thick ridges and valleys of layered scars there. When a brush across the longest, widest scar elicits a shudder and a whine of complaint, Emory scratches there. Long gentle swipes of short nails scratch at the deep uncomfortable itch until Lux finally melts again.

“Come here, Curls.” Lux shifts his hips back and hums happily when he’s swept closer to curl against his boyfriend, a bunched up blanket between them.

They’re close, warm, safe. Been safe for a long time.

Lux stretches, arms flying wide and back arching. A long groan is wrung from his throat and his eyes squeeze shut, sleepy tension melting away. Emory’s hand slipping under his upper arm to wrap around his shoulder doesn’t startle him at all. Diligent fingers press at knotted muscles and Lux whines, ending his stretch and falling still to allow the painful massage. It always feels so much better after the - after it stops -

It’s too painful. Eyes screwing shut tighter, fingers flexing sharply, Lux hisses out a sharp breath and waits for Emory to notice his reaction. He’ll stop instantly.

Knuckles dig in harder against joints that were permanently damaged years ago. Lux finally lets out a whine and twists uncomfortably, blinking his eyes open and twisting his head to see his boyfriend.

“Em? It, it, I don’t, it’s a little…”

Beautiful dark eyes glint at him. “A little…?”

He’s not understanding, somehow. Lux licks his lips and tries to find the words to explain kindly, to spare Emory the sharp heartache of causing him pain. “A li-ittle, um, it, doesn’t f-feel right, not your fault, I, I think it’s, mmh, muscles locked up, bad…”

Usually a single stutter is enough to make Emory hesitate and offer to back away. It’s not working now, though. Lux must - he must be doing it wrong somehow. Not communicating right. He should be clearer. Emory will be glad that he asked for what he needed.

“Em, um, I need, I need, I n-need, hnn!” Blue eyes fly wide and his back arches once more as fire erupts in his shoulder. It’s not - it can’t be happening. Emory’s fingers tighten their grip around the freshly popped joint, and Lux’s throat squeezes out a mewling sound before he can even understand that he’s being hurt.

“You need…?” Guides Emory in a warm, loving tone. Lux’s bare feet kick the blankets away and scramble across the bed as he tries to escape the unbearable grip on his shoulder which is creaking under Emory’s slowly flexing hands.

“I n-need, I, I, need, please!” This can’t be happening, but it is, somehow. A nightmare, maybe. Or mind magic, or - please, it must be a hallucination or trick, not his real boyfriend really mind controlled. And not… not Emory just… wanting to hurt him. Skin a sickly pale shade and fingers clawing into the mattress, Lux digs the back of his head into Emory’s chest and keens desperately.

The pop of the ball of his shoulder leaving its socket must be something he imagines as that new agony is ignited. There’s no way he could hear that, not with the blood rushing in his ears the way it is. But he imagines the sickening sound anyway. Only when he hears the soft dry sobs of his scream dying out, does he realize that he was screaming at all.

“Does that hurt, honey?” Comes the tender voice of the man he loves so much, right at the shell of his ear. Lux isn’t pinned, isn’t chained, there’s no gun or magic to his head. Still, the grip that shifts to wrap around his elbow keeps him in place with the imagined threat of this getting much, much worse somehow.

“Please…” Restless but not daring to struggle, Lux tries to swallow the sobs that threaten to catch in his throat and suffocate him. “I want… nnh, normal Emory. Safe. Don’t, I, I…” A self-interrupting sob-breath jolts his chest. “I want to wake up.”

The crunch of his elbow being snapped with sheer strength sends him arching up so sharply that Lux knocks his head back against Emory’s chin. It’s just enough to stun the hands off of his broken arm, and the warlock finally struggles, crawling with the awkward desperation of a mouse that’s finally wriggled free from a trap.

“Not so fast, baby,” Chides Emory, coolly using one of the petnames that send a chill of disgust racing up Lux’s spine. He crashes to the floor and throws himself to the bedroom door, tossing up fear-weakened magic to block the doorway behind him and lock the door shut.

There is not banging on the wood, no yelling. It’s eerily silent in there as Lux stumbles out of the house, muffling heartbroken weeping behind a sweaty palm.

[aceofwhump]

Murdoch Mysteries 7x09 "Midnight Train to Kingston"

[just-here-for-the-whump]

Leverage: Redemption 1x13 The Hurricane Job

[onyxedskies]

the things i've looked up in rapid succession of one another has probably gotten me on a watch list

[viva-la-whump]

Febuwhump Day 9

@febuwhump

Finally a longer one! Yay!!!

LIGHTNING STRIKE

It was like the sky had sucked up all of the water on Earth and now was dumping it straight down on top of them. It wasn’t safe to stay on the road anymore as it ran too close to the swelling river, and Hunter knew the risk of flash flooding was high.

Hunter was about to call for them to start moving off the road when there was a blinding flash and a cacophonous boom that was louder than standing next to a racing train. Their horses spooked at the sudden lightning strike that hit a nearby tree and they struggled to keep them under control. But Tech lost his fight and was thrown from his horse, landing on the muddy ground with an “Oof!”

Using his nearly unnaturally fast reflexes, Crosshair reached out and grabbed Tech’s horse before it could bolt into the wilderness. But when he turned to ride back to his cousin, he saw a sight that made his stomach drop.

The bank of the river started to give way, the water rising to swallow the road, the lightning-struck tree, and, with a cry of fear and alarm, Tech.

“No!” Crosshair yelled as he started to move forward despite the unstable ground.

“Cross! Wait!” Hunter called after him, but he was still wrestling with his own horse and couldn’t stop him as he leapt onto the tree that had fallen into the expanding river, some of its roots still holding fast in the ground.

Through the rain, Hunter now saw that Tech had caught on to one of its branches and was holding on for dear life as the raging waters tried to pull him under. Crosshair lay down flat on the tree, hugging it as he crept towards Tech.

“Wrecker! Rope!” Hunter ordered, and the big man took a coil of rope from his saddle and, holding onto one end, threw the rest of it to his oldest cousin. Crosshair quickly snatched the rope when it landed nearly on top of him and he twisted it around his arm. With the other, he reached towards Tech. Tech tried to reach up to him, but he couldn’t do that and hang on to the branch as well, and the rope wasn’t long enough for Crosshair to reach him.

“Give me more slack!” Crosshair  yelled and Wrecker inched his horse forward, getting perilously close to the edge of the water. But it still wasn’t enough. He was still too far away. So Crosshair decided to close that gap himself.

“Hang on tight!” he called to Wrecker, who had already tied off his end to the pommel, before launching himself off the tree and towards his cousin.

Crosshair caught hold of Tech’s arm just as his grip on the branch failed and the current pulled both of them down river, disappearing under the water.

“Whoa!” Wrecker yelled as his horse faltered a few steps as the line suddenly went taut, before planting her front legs to keep them steady. “Good girl,” he soothed, dismounting so she didn’t have to work so hard to support him and anchor the other two. “Now come on. There you go…” He started to ease the horse back, reeling in his cousins.

Hunter got off his horse as well, standing close to the river bank, prepared to pull the two men up onto solid ground. He didn’t have to wait long.

Two heads broke the surface of the swift water, both, Hunter was relieved to see, gasping for air. But as the two of them got clear of the water, Hunter noticed that while Tech coughed and shakily got to his feet, leaning on Wrecker for support, Crosshair stayed on the ground, his face twisted with pain and his breath hissing through clenched teeth.

“Cross!” Hunter knelt down next to him, hands hovering over him, unsure of what was wrong.

“My arm,” Crosshair ground out, and Hunter saw then that his arm, rope still wrapped around it, was still extended above his head, his shoulder resting at an unnatural angle.

“It’s dislocated.” Hunter looked up to see Tech hobbling forward, Wrecker right beside him with a hand under his elbow to catch him if he fell. “We need to put it back in its socket.”

“But, won’t that hurt?” Wrecker asked, his face growing a shade paler.

“Very much so,” Tech replied matter-of-factly, kneeling down on Crosshair’s other side. “But we need to do it now or there will be permanent damage to his shoulder.”

Crosshair gave a strained growl. “Just get on with it!” His right arm moved towards Hunter and he grabbed it with one of his own, squeezing just as hard as Cross was squeezing his, lending comfort and strength to his cousin. Tech wasted no more time and took Crossshair’s arm in his hands and, with both strength and confidence, angled and pulled it in such a way that it popped back into place.

The scream that tore from Crosshair roared louder than even the raging river beside them. He squeezed Hunter’s hand so hard that he feared the older man would break some of his bones. But still he held on, squeezing right back. Crosshair held his newly-relocated arm to his chest, cradling it there as his screams turned to shuddering gasps.

“We need to get away from this river,” Hunter said softly, resting his hand that wasn’t still trapped in Crosshair’s grip onto the man’s knee. “Do you think you can ride?”

Crosshair lay there for another few moments, seeming to gather whatever strength he still had. Finally, he nodded his head. Using his grip on Hunter’s hand, he worked to lever himself up to a seated position, hissing as the movement jostled his shoulder. He swayed slightly, but Hunter wrapped his free arm around Crosshair’s back and pulled his uninjured arm across his shoulders.

“We’ll stand on three, alright?” he asked, and again Crosshair nodded.

“One…two…three.”

Crosshair choked back a sob as Hunter all but lifted him to his feet and supported him not to his own horse, but to Hunter’s. Between him and Wrecker, they were able to get him up into the saddle with as little jostling as possible, which still didn’t stop more pained sounds escaping Crosshair’s gritted teeth. Hunter mounted up behind him.

“Wrecker, Tech,” he ordered. “Take Cross’ horse and ride ahead until you find the nearest town. It should only be a few miles out. Get us a room and make sure there’s a doctor waiting. We’ll follow behind at a slower pace.”

“Just don’t go taking any more dips into the river,” Wrecker quipped as he and Tech rode off, and Crosshair allowed his tense features to melt into a familiar wry eye roll.

[sebs-out-of-spoons]

my knee, shoulder, and hip on my left side has been absolutely killing me lately for zero reason (there may be a few reasons). more than their usual, and my bad side is my right one usually, so it’s odd for my left side to be acting weird. they’re always bad either way, but you know. it’s so frustrating and i would very much like it to stop

i can’t wait to get PT to help with it all, and maybe possibly mobility aids (i want one so bad man, i need one right about now)

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

For the lady whump - Seraphina + stress position + give them a stimulant?

Author's Notes: ...stretched on the rack counts as a stress position, right? it's a position, it seems pretty stressful...i took some liberties. please heed warnings!

Content Warnings: lady whump, angel whump, torture, stress position, the rack (torture device), drugging, stimulants, dislocated joints, passing out, ambiguous ending

----

Seraphina spent the last twenty-four hours uncomfortably curled on the floor of a broom closet. It is one of the only rooms of the old farmhouse still standing. Once bright and thriving, now the farm is just a bitter reminder of a better time for humanity.

What these humans have devised, on the other hand, harkens back to dark times in their history, barbaric behaviors they have re-learned in order to survive their demon-infested world.

It is crude but effective, not unlike the medieval rack. The angel is on her back on an old wooden door. Coarse ropes bind each of her wrists and ankles. When someone turns a handle, the ropes tighten and begin to slowly tug at her slack limbs.

Spending the night crammed into that closet left her crumpled and sore. As her arms, legs and back finally stretch out, she'd be lying if she said it didn't feel good. Seraphina sighs with relief as her stiff joints pop. She wiggles her fingers and toes to get some feeling back into them.

But that's where the contentment ends.

"Please," she blurts out at the first slight strain. Begging does not come easily to the proud angel...until pain is involved.

A few of the humans laugh.

"We haven't even started yet," jeers the one turning the handle.

Flushed with shame, Seraphina turns her head and spits on him.

"You -!" He reels back in disgust, wiping his face.

Then he surges forward again, one arm out. Seraphina braces herself for a blow, but instead the man grabs the handle and gives it a sharp turn.

The ropes - and her limbs - pull taut suddenly and violently enough to tear muscle. It feels like being lit on fire from the inside, all over, all at once. The piercing sound she makes is, quite literally, inhuman. The humans all recoil and cover their ears; the handle turns back the way it came, loosening the ropes once more.

Seraphina slumps back against the door panting. Her head lolls to one side.

"Don't let her - " she hears just as she starts to pass out.

Something pricks her neck.

Mere moments later her eyes open wide. Her heart is racing and her breaths come quicker and quicker.

"What - did - you - do - t-to me - "

"Almost lost you there, princess." The man closest to her pats her cheek. If she had the presence of mind she would bite down on his hand until he was the one begging her.

She doesn't realize that she's cursing aloud until the hand grips her jaw tight, silencing the furious angel.

"That's enough of that. Save your strength. We aren't done with you yet."

Seraphina squeezes her eyes shut so she can't see another man reach for the handle. The ropes pull her to the edge of her body's limit and pause there, waiting for her to catch her breath.

"You'll be...sorry for this..."

In this state she is no longer a threat, but the humans don't know that she isn't the one they need to be worried about. The false sense of security only encourages them to take their time.

Slowly the handle turns. Slowly the ropes tighten. There is no more pleasant stretch, only an ever-present burn in her limbs and torso that worsens with every passing moment. Her pleas and pained sounds fall on deaf ears. Her torturers only pause when she starts to hyperventilate. The moment she is calm, they continue.

Seraphina is still learning the limits of a mortal form. Human bodies are fragile, yet they can withstand the most horrible things. Every time she thinks it has to end soon or I can't take anymore she finds that she can and it doesn't. She expects to be torn in two at the waist at any moment, but what happens instead is so much worse.

Something pops and pain bursts in both of Seraphina's shoulders at once. A spasm runs up her arms and down her back. Her next breath is stolen right from her throat.

None of this deters her captors. A different man takes over turning the handle. If the angel thought it hurt before, that was nothing compared to having her newly dislocated arms stretched as far as they'll go.

It's too much.

Seraphina fails to catch her breath and blacks out. No one notices until the angel's hip dislocating is met with no reaction.

The ropes go still. Two men secure them so their captive is stuck like that, while a third prepares another dose of ephedrine.

As the drug drags her from the comfort of unconsciousness, glass shatters in another room, drawing the humans' attention away. One goes to investigate. A moment later he comes crashing through the drywall.

"What the hell?!"

Too weak to laugh, Seraphina just smiles despite the pain of her reality setting back in.

"Told you," she whispers.