#injuries tw

[echo-bleu]

Day 21: Some post-Angband Maedhros research. Most fics/art set during his recovery have him recover physically quite fast, missing hand notwithstanding, but I want to explore other options.

Disabled characters series

Rambling under the cut, ID in alt.

[Discussion of his canon torture and injuries, going a tiny bit more in depth]

So aside from the previous torture, for which we can invent basically anything, he was hanging from the wrist for 30 years. I'm pretty sure that would kill a human in a matter of hours, but since he survived, in my mind he's got some serious shoulder and spine issues. Those stay for the rest of his life, but with a combination of support garments, elf-PT and just sheer force of will, he does manage to walk again and fight. I don't think he ever gets a great range of motion or much feeling back in his right arm.

This is me making use of one of my weirdest special interests (medical immobilization devices). I have a bunch of different design ideas for braces at other stages of his recovery, and this is just basic research for now. Here he still needs his arm in slight abduction and full support for his spine, and the big metal arm thing is correcting the angle of his shoulder (otherwise it is very dissymmetrical with the other).

In my mind, this is maybe a year after his rescue. 30 years of torture aside, I also headcanon that elves might heal more (as in, they can survive a lot more) than men but they also heal slower in the same way they grow up slower. Not pictured here is the fact that he's still mostly using a wheelchair.

This is a wild mix of pre-50 spine braces, modern shoulder and back braces and pure fantasy, and it's probably the simplest of the designs I have in mind 😅 Design-wise, I was thinking about the fact that it was probably made by Curufin people used to making armour, so it's the same materials (steel and leather) and similar kind of shapes. It would perhaps be more decorated because Noldor but I didn't have time for that today.

[eslanes]

I found myself at the entrance, of what I didn't know. Pushing the heavy door open, I quickly realized I'd interrupted a funeral service.

"You're here! I'm so happy to see you!"

He pulled me into a tight embrace before my brain could decipher what my eyes were seeing.

"V-Victor?"

"You're just in time," he smiled, "it won't be long now."

"For what?"

He didn't answer, but instead motioned for me to go to the back of the church.

Overwhelming dread grew with each step I took.

Once close enough, I hesitated to look inside the casket, already knowing who would be laying there.

"Does it hurt?"

"It'll be over before you know it, I promise."

"…Will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

I turned back to look at him.

prev / next (♩♬♪ - lay me low - nick cave & the bad seeds)

[rpmemes-galore]

you know what makes me go absolutely  feral??  

when Muse A is injured, and scared, and won’t let anyone else check them out... just fights them all off / shrinks away, even though they’re really badly hurt and need medical attention.   and then Muse B --- the only person they trust --- approaches them, and gently talks them down and calms them down.  holds their hand while they get checked out.  let’s them squeeze it when it hurts. keeps them relaxed enough to them to get their injuries tended to

* chef’s kiss *

[southerndragontamer]

You Only Get Three Strikes

This is my interpretation of how things after the amazing fanart by @andaboop went

Actor hummed an old tune to himself as he adjusted his tie in the mirror and flashed himself a grin. He had just finished up setting things up for the confrontation with Dark in their next encounter, he wondered if it would work enough he could bring out Damien again. He had sent his….no not partner, that was reserved for someone else…..like minded fellow? That sounded right, out to go through the plan Actor had crafted for him about some hero, magician? Whoever the target he was after.

He’d really lucked out in meeting the other, it was always nice to have a trump card in your pocket and though he was a bit…jagged around the edges the actor was confident that the shared interest in their respective goals would help him figure out how to direct those edges the way he’d like.

His thought process was derailed when the door was slammed open. No, that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t slammed so much as kicked in so hard it flew to the opposite wall. He whirled around, cane in hand ready to defend himself as his mind immediately jumped to William or Damien only to blink as he saw the glitch there. His smile fit into place as he relaxed.

“Oh it’s you my friend! You gave me a heart attack there-”

His voice cut off by force by a clawed hand that snapped around it with the speed of a striking cobra, or a bear trap when it shut from the pressure plate being triggered. He gagged and choked and instinctively tried to pry away the fingers that felt like they were going to snap his windpipe in two. He attempted to kick as he was lifted into the air and slammed against the wall.

Anti’s face was twisted in a near wild fury, all his fangs bared and body glitching as the lights began to flicker and dim. His eyes were glowing like a live wire as he spat out, Irish accent thickened even further than normal.

“Shut yer damn mouth. I don’t wanna hear a sound outta ye, unless I say you can talk.”

Actor couldn’t have tried to speak right now if he wanted to, he tried to nod as his vision swam with black spots. Just as he thought he was going to pass out, or need to reconstruct his throat again, he was let go and dropped like a sack of bricks. He held in the gasp as oxygen flooded into his lungs and covered his mouth to muffle the cough as he looked up at the glitch for a reason why he’d suddenly flown off the handle.

Anti’s glare was like looking at a lightning strike inches from where you stood, the sense of if he wasn’t careful he’d have to dig himself out of a grave again. The glitch stepped back and manifested his knife as he started to absently twirl it in his fingers with the ease of someone that had wielded a blade for a long time.

“I was willing to give ye a chance ya know, at working together. You talk a big game pretty boy. But you can’t cash it. I went with that ‘plan’ of yours that ye made for me. And do you wanna know what happened?”

Actor felt his stomach start to knot and sink, his heart picked up and he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck at the way the lights flickered and threatened to pop, sparks arced off of the glitch’s skin as his voice dropped into a growling hiss.

“I had the magician about to collapse at my feet when the damned timekeeper intervened. They got away from me. Oh I can find em again, easy as breathing, my strings don’t allow any less. But it’s the principle of it all.”

Actor resisted the urge to hunch in on himself as Anti’s head snapped around at a sickeningly off angle and speed and instead he began to try to save face, backpedal as he stood up. His best apologetic expression on as he tried to keep from going out of the frying pan into the fire. His eyes shone a brighter red and he weaved his own kind of power into his words like red ribbon braided together to hide blood.

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work like I intended friend, but I didn’t take everything into account it seems when I made my plan.”

That was as far as the ‘apology’, because such a word was only proper in a true sense of remorse for actions, got as he found his jaw exploded in pain from the literally lightning fast blow to one side. He felt bone crunch and fracture as he collapsed to the floor and held his jaw in place as it began to repair itself.

Only to choke and blood to spurt out of his mouth by the sharp kick that echoed with the cracking of ribs, just as quickly he was hauled up by the collar of his suit and the knife was pressed deeply against his skin. Ruby droplets trailed down the edge of the blade as Anti half snarled.

“I told you. Not. A. Sound. You must not have much grey matter between your ears, or you’re just a glutton to get your arse beaten. So let me explain this in a way you’ll be sure to understand.”

Actor winced and his eyes squinted as the glowering, searing light of Anti’s eyes were right in front of him. The knife cut in just a bit deeper into his skin. The glitch’s tone went from utterly furious about to stab someone, to calm and measured and almost cold rage that was somehow almost more terrifying.

“If you’re not one of my puppets, you get three strikes. Your first mistake was fockin things up for me reclaiming one of mine. The second one was the half-arsed, shite apology ya tried to make.”

And Anti grinned, slow and cruel and his eyes had a sadistic glint in them as he chuckled and finished in an almost croon. The lights shone green and the white noise of static snow started to hurt Actor’s ears enough to make him wince and he swore for a second something started to bleed.

“Your final strike? Thinking I was too stupid to know you didn’t expect more out of me than dumb muscle eager to get to fighting, someone that wouldn’t question anything.”

The lights flared such a bright green that it went white and then popped with the sound of fizzling soda and shattered glass. Actor subconsciously, human instinct still ingrained after so long of being inhuman, flinched, shut his eyes and covered his head. The sound of shrieking static made him cover his ears as they ached and he was positive he felt his eardrums burst, his head ached as the sound pierced through his skull.

The shrieking came again, not just a wall of sound but laughter. Actor had never been one that dealt well with being made a joke, pride bristled in indignation as his eyes snapped open and he started to growl, to snap back at the glitch for being so ungrateful for his help. His mask dropped as his true form slipped through the handsome image he portrayed. Like the true face of Dorian Grey, sickened, rotten and ugly.

Only he saw that Anti had dropped his mask as well…

Instead of a human with glowing green eyes, sharp claws and fangs to betray the inhuman underneath…what stood in front of Actor was something that could only be called eldritch. Lightning and static in a silhouette that was humanoid but not, it glitched and twisted on itself, crackling at the seams. He blinked and it shifted each time as if it couldn’t decide on how to ‘appear’. Too long, too many ‘limbs’ too long claws that took the place of fingers, jaws filled with rows and rows of razor blade fangs, it looked too big for the space it was in, the walls creaked and groaned with the strain to hold it in.

His head ached like the worst migraine he’d ever had, his ears rang and he felt blood dripping from his nose, the world felt like it tilted and he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a rumbling of thunder and then he was aware of his body falling and convulsing as his brain lit up with only agony as a reason. Past the pain and the searing white noise in his ears that felt like it was trying to break his mind apart, he grit his teeth at the shrieking, piercing laugh that had him swallow down bile.

“Already on the ground writhing like a snake without its head~ You thought you were such a tough shot because you constantly annoyed Dark, ohhh boyo you got no idea of what forces you’re playing with now~”

The sensation of barbed wire cutting and tearing, ripping into his skin as the glitch’s strings wrapped around his limbs and yanked him up to his feet. Up further still to Anti’s ‘face’…too many eyes, shades of green, black, blue and some brown, they looked like fractured images through cracks in a mirror. The glitch’s body waved and rose as it spoke, like watching a sound wave on a computer screen.

As much as Actor tried to hold it in, as he finally realized how in over his head he was, that making a deal with the glitch had been a horrible mistake, when he felt the lightning forced through his body again, he screamed. Anti’s cackling laughter of delight rang in his ears and covered the sound as it echoed in on itself.

“It’s been a while since I had a chance to play with something that can survive it~ Oh yes, I’m aware you can’t stay dead~ You’re gonna wish you were back in that manor when I get bored of you~”

[sketch-shepherd-art]

Soooo... I've occasionally seen this trend of taking RWBY screenshots and editing them to make them look more detailed. So my edgy ass tried it with this scene from V9e8 (my edit on left, original on right)

Tried to make Ruby's injuries somewhat consistent with where she was struck during this part, especially since her aura was broken

[softpine]

i'm working on something so incredibly self indulgent and dumb right now fjskdjs but i'm having a blast

[digidollhouse]

good morning!

once again using @saruin's set

[ai-higurashi]

Been rewatching Agent Carter with @blaithnne and Peggy and Jarvis are SO Beakley and Duckworth coded.

Bonus in black and white because I love how it looks:

[came-out-of-the-coffin-desisted]

in a world of heavy footprints, be untraceable

(click for details <3)

[whumpinthepot]

@figuwhump 2023 day 26

Art trade with @coyotehusk <3

Rhet and Ryker are in some deep shit…

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Whumptober day fifteen!

Time is a hypocrite... nothing bad will come of him hiding injuries, right..?

Special shout out to the lovely @akchimp75 (sorry for the tag if you don't want it!)

804 words

Warnings for injuries (not described much but there), stitches (again, not described much, but it's there), lying, and needles.

~~~~

He gets back to camp, finding one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight sleeping heroes… 

Wild’s curled up next to Twi, the older in wolf form. Hyrule’s next to Legend, one hand grasping the veteran’s tunic. Wars is next to Wind on the other side of camp, his scarf covering both of them like a blanket. Sky’s fast asleep, snuggled in a ridiculous amount of blankets, as if in a nest, and Four’s asleep with a book on his chest. 

All perfectly fine. 

He gives a relieved breath, sinking down to sit by the fire. 

Takes a second to scan over his injuries… then sets off to taking care of himself. 

One slow breath, two slow breaths- and he pops his shoulder back into place. 

Groans under his breath, but the ache slowly fades as he takes a minute for his vision to return and sips some water. 

He takes a deep breath, tying a strip of his blanket around the cut on his am. Watches for a minute, but blood doesn’t seep through it. 

Digs through his bag, grabbing his med kit and the stitches in it. No antiseptic, but he’ll manage.

Washes the needle off, shaking his head slightly at himself. 

So he takes a slow breath, bunches his shirt up and bites it tightly in his mouth, looking down at his leg. The cut gushing blood. 

One. Two. Three. One stitch. Two. Three. 

Carefully moving up his calf, hands shaking worse by the minute, he gives himself eight deep tissue sutures, twenty normal ones. 

Manages not to wake any of the boys in the process, too.

He lets himself take a few minutes after that, leaning back against his tree and taking a few slow, controlled breaths, wiping his face off. 

The wound is nasty- trailing from the top of his ankle halfway up his calf, but no longer in dire need of medical attention. 

Blood loss exhausts him, but he can’t let his eyes close. 

One more deep breath, then continue. 

The wound at his side isn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared- just a scrape, really. He cleans it easily and lets it be for now. His knee throbs, but he sees no damage. On the outside, at least. 

Other than that, he’s just banged up. Bruised, battered, sore, but… not going to die. 

He has the slightest limp when he walks- it’ll be gone by morning, and if it’s not he can blame his old joints if anyone notices. 

His clothing covers any injuries, and the armor will hide it even more, so he won’t have to worry about that, and Wild had said they’re on course to reach town early tomorrow. So he shouldn’t have to worry about fighting again. 

He hadn’t used bandages or a potion for the sake of anyone inquiring about missing one, so that’s covered… and no one will notice the stitches. He’ll be fine. 

Any soreness that lingers in the morning he’ll be able to push through. 

He lets himself settle, but he has no other disturbances for the rest of his watch. No other monsters come near. 

Once the moon gets low enough, he takes a slow breath and stands. Aching muscles scream in protest, but he pushes through and gently shakes the captain awake. 

Wars wakes easily, squinting blearily at him. “Is it my watch?” He mumbles groggily, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. 

“Yeah, good morning.” 

“Maybe for you it was. Third watch is the worst.” The captain grumbles lightly, taking his scarf off when Wind refuses to let it go. 

They both smile softly, watching the sailor sleep for a moment. 

Then Wars stands with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head, moving to the fire he’d just abandoned. “Sleep well, Old Man.” 

He winces slightly as he stands. The captain catches it, eyes flicking to him. 

“You alright?” 

“Of course,” He says easily. “My old man back just isn’t keeping up as well these days.” 

Wars gives a smile, shaking his head. “Want me to-” 

“That’s alright. I don’t need anything, I’m fine.” He shrugs Wars off before he can finish, and Wars nods unconcernedly. 

Part of him feels bad lying to the Captain- they’ve already had talks about trust, but… Wars doesn’t need to worry about him. He’s fine, and he treated his injuries already, so there’s no point in telling anyone. There’s nothing else they can do. 

Taking the time to rest so he can heal is unnecessary- he’s mainly just banged up and sore, two bad cuts to worry about. He can walk just fine without injuring himself further. 

He doesn’t need any help. He can handle himself. 

So he gives Wars one final nod, settling into his bedroll and falling asleep easily past the lingering aches and throbbing of his injuries. 

~~~~

[sketch-shepherd-art]

RWBY Ladybug week day 6: Scars

post Salem + eyepatch Ruby AU involving Blake and Ruby intimately touching each other's scars

[ffairyy-art]

post battle adrenaline 👀💕

[ohanahoku-ao3]

Whumptober 2023 Day 30

So close to finishing these prompts, just one left after this one! Hope you guys enjoy it, this one is one of my favorites! <3

Teen & Up - Gen - Merlin (TV)

Their Strength, Their Shelter

     Gwaine watched Arthur limp along the deer path they were following through the forest, frowning as Arthur again ignored Leon’s offer to help him. They had been attacked by bandits, and while their prince was the only one who sustained an injury, their horses had spooked, leaving them stranded and forced to walk back to the capital. They wouldn’t make it by nightfall, and Gwaine was relieved when Arthur called them all to make camp. His friend had been limping for hours on a bad leg, and while he’d let Merlin tend to it, he was refusing any offer of support for his injured leg.

     Gwaine watched as Merlin forced Arthur to sit down and fussed over his injury momentarily, looking frustrated when the prince sent him away to collect firewood. He shook his head, heading over to sit down next to Arthur. “He’s just worried. We all are.” He told him, taking a sip from his flask before offering it to Arthur.

     “There’s no need, I’m fine,” Arthur said, taking the flask and tipping it back for a swallow.

     Gwaine chuckled, shaking his head. “You nobles are all alike. Too proud to admit you’re not okay.” He took his flask back for a few long sips. “I’m sure I’ll have to say it more than once for it to penetrate that thick skull of yours, but it’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay.’ We won’t think any less of you for it.” He glanced at Arthur and sighed as he saw his friend’s face close off. He passed the flask back to him rather than comment on it. “Drink the rest. It’ll ease the pain.”

     Arthur looked like he might refuse but then relented, taking the flask and bringing it to his lips once more. “Thanks.”

     Gwaine nodded, patting Arthur’s shoulder before taking his leave and heading to the forest to help Merlin collect the firewood.

     It was late at night when Gwaine found Arthur in the training yard, yelling in rage as he destroyed a fighting dummy. He watched in the pale moonlight for a minute as Arthur utterly demolished the sturdy wood figurine, anger and grief making every movement sloppy but powerful until he stood there, chest heaving as he stared at the fallen target. Gwaine stepped forward then, calling out to his friend. “Destroying our practice dummies won’t help.”

     Arthur whirled to face him, eyes sparking with grief, but his face set in a furious sneer.

     Gwaine spoke again before Arthur could retort. “What you need is a real challenge.” He drew his sword, lifting his chin in a clear dare for Arthur to come at him.

     And Arthur did, lunging at Gwaine and holding nothing back as they parried, dodged, and exchanged blow for blow. Gwaine goaded him on, provoking Arthur at every missed strike and letting him work out his anger. He took every hit Arthur delivered, his muscles straining as he fought to keep up with Arthur’s erratic pace. He kept up until Arthur’s attacks started growing weaker, until Arthur’s tears blinded him to the point of missing every strike, until Arthur’s hands shook so hard they couldn’t hold his sword anymore, and it fell onto the grass.

     Gwaine threw his own sword aside as Arthur fell to his knees; the prince-turned-king wracked with sobs as he doubled over and screamed hoarsely into the dirt. Gwaine knelt next to him, one hand around Arthur’s lower back and the other at his shoulder as he held him close. “That’s it, Arthur. You don’t have to be okay. Not now.”

     The knight looked up and saw Merlin standing several yards away at the edge of the yard. It was nearly impossible to see Merlin’s eyes in the low light, but Gwaine couldn’t help noticing how his best friend was drowning in guilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sooner than he had, Merlin turned and ran, as silent as if he’d never been there.

     Ringing in his ears brought Gwaine to, and he reached up to hold his head on as he sat up. “Merlin?” He called, looking around and wincing when his voice felt like a hammer against his head. “Arthur? Anyone?” He stumbled to his feet, looking around for his compatriots. There were a couple of men face down in the dirt, wearing the sigils of the clan that had attacked them, but his friends were nowhere to be seen.

     “Gwaine.”

     A weak call of his name had Gwaine whirling around as he hurried towards the voice, the ache in his head fading slightly from adrenaline. “Arthur! Are you okay?” He called, stumbling over the uneven ground of the forest.

     A shaky breath preceded the soft answer. “No.”

     The answer chilled Gwaine to the bone as he came upon his king. “Arthur.” He breathed upon finding the young man sitting against a rotting log with blood staining his clothes. “What happened?” He asked, kneeling beside him as he lifted Arthur’s shirt to examine the wound.

     “Got… stabbed,” Arthur said, his eyes closing for a minute before they struggled to open again. “Merlin. They took Merlin.”

     “We’ll get him back,” Gwaine promised, fastening a makeshift bandage around Arthur’s torso. “But you need medical attention first. Do you think you can stand?”

     Arthur shook his head, grimacing as he admitted, “I’m not okay.”

     “That’s alright. I’ve got you.” Gwaine promised, swallowing thickly. It was the first time Arthur had admitted such a thing to him, and while the circumstances were what brought it about, it was obvious those words cost Arthur his pride. He placed a hand under Arthur’s shoulders and another under his knees. “Alright, up we go.”

     He stood with Arthur in his arms, the king gasping in pain from the minimal movement and a little more red seeping into the bandage around him. “Stop, stop,” Arthur begged, and Gwaine stilled for a moment as Arthur got used to the new position, his face growing paler by the second until he nodded silently.

     “Let’s get you home, Princess,” Gwaine said as he walked forward, grinning when Arthur still managed to glare at him for the nickname. They walked for hours, occasionally taking short breaks for Arthur to drink some of the water from Gwaine’s half-empty canteen. As they went, Arthur got paler and paler, slipping in and out of consciousness as he started to whimper in pain.

     “It hurts,” Arthur admitted at length, voice smaller than Gwaine had ever heard from the young king. “It hurts.” He repeated, and Gwaine glanced down at him just as Arthur passed out.

     The knight cursed and walked faster, frantically searching for any sign that they were getting close. A half-hour passed before Gwaine recognized a small stream, his eyes lighting up. “We’re almost there, Arthur. Not much longer.” He informed his unconscious friend as he picked up his pace.

     When they finally reached the capital, Percival met them at the gate, carrying Arthur to Gaius as Elyan went to fetch Leon. As soon as they learned that Arthur would be okay, they wasted no time saddling their horses to ride out in search of Merlin and his captors. But as they were about to mount their horses, a commotion at the gate drew their attention. There, at the entrance, stood Merlin. Gwaine’s friend was shirtless, with some sort of symbol half-drawn, half-smeared in blood across his chest. His arms were littered with bruises, and more blood smudged his face and hands. The sight was so startling that no one moved nor said a word until Merlin spoke, his voice shaking as he asked about Arthur.

     At Gwen’s stuttered assurance that the king was okay, Merlin sobbed in relief before crumpling in on himself. His knees hit the stone floor of the courtyard hard, spurring them all into action as they rushed to the servant’s side.

     Sometime later, after Merlin had been cleaned up, Gwaine stood with him by Arthur’s bedside. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, watching Merlin closely.

     “I’m fine,” Merlin said, echoing the same phrase he had said earlier, even after being forced to explain the horrible things the cult had tried to do to him.

     Gwaine sighed, placing a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay.’” He told him, watching as Merlin’s eyes flicked to his, his blue eyes haunted and wary. Gwaine shook his head fondly, ruffling Merlin’s hair. “It’s okay, Merls. You don’t have to say it now. But I’ll be here to listen when you’re ready to say it.”

     Merlin stared at him for a moment longer before nodding once, curt and stoic, before looking back at Arthur like the king would disappear if he took his eyes off him for too long.

     Gwaine stayed with them both through the night. After all, he was their Strength, and he’d be there to support them regardless of whether they were ready to admit they needed the help or not.