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#BROKEN BONES
whumpshaped · 2 months
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broken bones have to be my favourite injury tbh. they're not usually super gory or bloody but there's something so pleasing about that nice crunch and snap. the way the whole area just explodes with pain and then you just can't even move it. it just keeps throbbing and aching and people have to poke and prod to be able to say whether it's really broken. a bunch of those bones are really painful to wrangle into a good position, if they're not put into that position they'll heal wrong, some of them you can't put in a cast and you just have to wait it out... the bruising, the swelling, the potential blood, FUCK when the bone pierces the skin and it's just sticking out? when a bone pierces the organs? broken legs you can't stand on and potentially can never walk on again, broken fingers that are absolutely useless, broken ribs that hurt with every breath, broken jaw that has to be wired shut... shattered bones that have no chance of ever healing well. ugh. just. broken bones beloved
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jasmines-library · 5 months
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Oh, Baby.
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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
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also thinking about broken ribs and how you just have to ride it out because there's no way to really treat it. just weeks of painful laughter and even breathing. living on painkillers
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lucitrius · 5 months
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a couple casualties never hurt anyone, right?
here's my piece to go along with @toxicpineapple's incredible fic "Play To Your Strengths" (read it here on ao3!) and to pair with @training-trio-irl's amazing illustration (find it here!) for the Halloween Big Bang event with the @drv3giftexchangeclub!
please please please go check out their work, i had a blast working with both of them!!!
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cyberwhumper · 6 months
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He could hear them even before they unlocked the heavy chains that protected the gates to the abandoned warehouse. Loud music playing from car speakers, raucous partygoers, and copious amounts of drugs and booze for everyone to enjoy to their heart's content. He listens to them pouring into the building and the noise grows exponentially louder, bouncing off the empty walls and throwing off his ability to perceive sound direction entirely.
As the hours pass and the party shows no sign of dying down, Whiskey almost feels a sense of relief that they would be way too busy with it to harass him instead. He allows himself to relax a little, tries to make his body as comfortable as possible so he can finally get some rest. Before he is even able to close his eyes, the door to his makeshift cell opens and a dozen curious eyes land squarely on him.
Fuck. I'm gonna be the entertainment, aren't I?
Before he could finish that thought or protest, pain overwhelms his senses as Baxter yanks his chain so harshly his ankle starts to bleed again. Everything feels distant and quickly fading away from his vision until he's brought back by a couple of rough slaps across the face.
"You better cut this shit out and stand up, fucker. My guests want to take a look at you!"
"Go.. fu..ck.. yours…–"
His captor kicks him unceremoniously on the bleeding ankle, quickly curbing his typical defiant act. A wave of nausea hits him, and he dry heaves and gags and struggles to not appear like he's completely defeated. Two of Baxter's gang members pull him up by his armpits and drag him out of the cell and across the rugged floors, parading him around like some sort of circus animal. His good foot is scraped and bruised as he desperately tries to push back against them and free himself, but the more he struggles the more exhausted he gets.
"Hey people, gather round!" Baxter pipes up, waving his hands in the air to beckon them closer. "We gonna play a little game!"
He winds up in a dramatic gesture to amp up the crowd and punches Whiskey straight on his broken ribs. He screams in agony, body contorting in involuntary spasms as if trying to protect his wounds was at all possible with his hands tied up above him. Baxter smiles at the excited partygoers.
"First one to make this prick piss himself in pain gets drinks on me for a week. Good luck ladies and gentlemen!"
When morning finally breaks, he's long since stopped screaming.
Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage //
If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!
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whumpypepsigal · 8 months
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The Witcher s03e06: “Make a friend of this pain, Geralt of Rivia. Today you begin your new life, as my warning to the Continent!”
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whump3000 · 2 months
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aceofwhump · 5 months
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Whumptober 2023
Day 31: Alternate - Broken
Once Upon A Time 2x12
@whumptober @whumptober-archive
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lonesome--hunter · 2 months
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What if they're marched through the forest barefoot?
Their captor ensuring that any escape attempts would be painful and ill advised.
Sticks sticking up out of the ground. Sharp rocks. Roots.
What happens when they decide to just run the second their back is turned? How far do they get?
Are they found bleeding at the bottom of the sloping wooded thicket of trees? Maybe they almost make it to freedom and they get injured?
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I think he likes it
(full under the cut for gore/broken bones and eye whump)
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art tag: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @whumpsday , @regrets-realization-acceptance , @kixngiggles , @randomlifeunit , @darkthingshappen
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the-three-whumpeteers · 8 months
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The whumpee can’t cry, not only because the whumper would torture them mercilessly again, but because any deep breath they take hurt. Broken ribs just made everything worse, and the agony of every other injury just left them miserable on the floor of their cold, merciless cell.
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whumpshaped · 2 months
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tw broken bones, sadistic whumper
Crack.
Whumper laughed, giddy and delighted, but the sound was almost entirely drowned out by Whumpee's blood-curdling scream. Whumper raised the sledgehammer again, and their victim raised their arms in a weak protest, eyes fixed on the tool that weighed enough to shatter their kneecap even if they were to simply drop it.
But they didn't. They swung with both arms, bringing it down so hard that it stole Whumpee's breath when it connected.
Crack.
Then came another strangled scream.
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where-is-my-whump · 3 months
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Society of the Snow
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selfawarecobalt · 23 days
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i think mira deserves to snap his arm like a twig
(redraw of this shot)
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macgyvermedical · 1 month
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Is it physically possible to walk on a broken leg/ankle? Like with the compound fracture even if you wanted to walk, wouldn't the bones just slide further out of alignment and/or not support weight? I see a lot of characters walk off (or on, as the case may be) broken legs and was wondering just how feasible that is, even if they could ignore the pain.
It depends on how severe the fracture is and how many other structures are damaged along with it.
If the fracture is a partial or hairline fracture, and there was no other damage (say, to muscles, ligaments, or tendons), then it is very possible to walk on the break.
If the fracture goes all the way through but is not separated, it would not be a good idea to walk on it, but in theory it would be possible, again as long as the muscles, ligaments, and tendons were intact and holding it together.
BUT if the bone ends are separated or there is a lot of damage to the muscles, ligaments, and tendons, the injury is probably not going to hold weight. This is because either like you said, the bone ends would just slide across each other, or there would be nothing to prevent the joints from slipping across each other. The way this would happen is that the person would put weight on the bone and it would just kind of collapse under them.
Keep in mind with any of these it would be really, really painful, so either the person would need to be in an extreme emergency situation or be on a lot of pain medication.
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cyberwhumper · 6 months
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"You alive?"
Baxter circles the fallen man with slow deliberate steps. The wound on his ankle looks gnarly, having gotten progressively worse as time inevitably marched on. The daily beatings and abuse showed no signs of slowing down, the feeling of vindication only growing stronger as Whiskey surely withered away.
He kicks his captive in the ribs and he curls around himself with pained groans. Moving is unbearably painful, and with his body defeated by the violence, fatigue, and infection, he could no longer fight Baxter off. He could barely register he was even there.
"Got nothing to say? Well, color me fucking surprised! Didn't figure you'd ever learn to keep your fucking mouth shut."
He rolls Whiskey sideways under his foot, and even reflexively he seems to be still trying to protect himself as his hand refuses to move away from his ribs. Baxter will just have to step on the hand instead. The man's groaning gets louder as he pushes his body weight on the broken bones, frantic, pained, breathing so heavily it feels like he is drowning in blood and spit.
And then, nothing.
"You better not be fucking dead."
Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish //
If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!
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