Hi here’s Zander Falls Off A Fucking Roof but also A Little Bit More To It
CW: Dislocated shoulder, discussion of past injuries
***
Time passed, he settled into his home, into his freedom. There was still some adjusting to be done, but he felt more himself these days, more comfortable venturing outside of his room. He was almost eager to be helpful around the house, a habit from when he was younger, and as the season changed and his moms began pulling out the Christmas decorations, he volunteered to be as helpful as he could be.
That’s how he ended up on the roof of his house, string of lights in hand. It wasn’t a particularly difficult task, and he’d rather be up there than have either of his moms trying to do it, but it was cold out, snow covering the ground and parts of the roof, and he couldn’t wait to be done and get back inside. Right now he was very envious of Wren who had also come to help, but was currently on the ground with his mom, mug of hot chocolate in hand.
“Move them just a little to the left, please!” His mom called, and he was quick to do as she said, easily finding the nail sticking out from the wood from years past and twisting the string around it, finally securing the last of the lights. He stood up from where he was crouched down, feeling somewhat proud of himself for getting something done. He tried to savor that feeling for the time being, he’d found he had a hard time feeling like that lately.
“Be careful getting down from there!” Wren said as he made his way across the roof, towards the ladder propped up against the edge of the roof.
“Yeah, I will!” He called back. He intended to be careful, anyway, but one misplaced step had him stepping on a more slippery part of the roof he hadn’t quite noticed, his foot sliding out from under him. His back hit the edge of the roof hard, but that was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he slipped off and onto the ground. While he was lucky the snow broke his fall somewhat, he landed in an awkward position, and from the intense pain in his shoulder he just knew he’d dislocated it again.
His mom and Wren were quick to get over to him, trying to help him get up. He was surprised he was able to stand, but the pain in his shoulder was constant, it was too much for him to ignore and he kept his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed by the pain as they helped him inside. He tried to get his jacket off but it just worsened the pain, he collapsed onto the couch as his mother fussed over him.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.” He said over and over again, almost as if trying to convince himself. “It’s fine, it’s happened before.” He said.
“What do you mean it’s happened before?!” His mom cried.
“I saw it happen once.” Wren added, which seemed to just upset her more.
“It’s fine, this just, it happens.” Zander said, talking more to distract himself. “Sometimes- Sometimes my shoulder just dislocates- actually last time it was the other shoulder, but it’s just, it’s fine, it could be worse, I mean- the broken hand hurt more actually-“
“When did you break your hand?!” She asked.
“Zander, you should probably stop talking.” Wren warned him.
“If I stop talking then it’ll really hurt- why do you think I kept yelling at Cain last time?”
“I thought you just liked yelling at Cain.”
“I did! But it’s much better when my shoulder is where it fucking belongs!”
“Dan-Zander!” His mom sounded exasperated. “Look- We’re going to the hospital, come on.” She told him, getting him to stand back up. “And once we’re back- I want to know about these injuries you’ve been hiding.” She said seriously, and he couldn’t help but think he’d rather dislocate the other shoulder than do that.
***
“The last time I dislocated my shoulder was a couple months ago, and it had happened once before that too- that’s just this year though.”
“And your hand?” His mom asked.
“That happened a long time ago, I mean, it still hurts sometimes but it was taken care of.” He said, trying to make it sound a lot better than it did.
“And what about your ear, you think I didn’t notice it was torn?” She said, her voice cracking, and as he realized how upset she was he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“A Uh… an earring got ripped out…” He said slowly. “But again- that one was a long time ago, I’m- I’m fine now.” He insisted.
“You’re not fine!” She said, something he’d been told more than once before. “How often did these things happen?! Were you even properly taken care of- you should’ve been seeing doctors since you got back!” She groaned, anxiously pacing in front of him. He looked at Wren for help but he just glanced away, Zander knew he likely agreed with her.
“Mom, I’m okay, really.” He said gently. He wasn’t exactly eager to tell her about the constant back pain, and he certainly didn’t want to tell her about the scar on his leg, in fact, he didn’t intend to unless he absolutely had to. “You don’t need to worry…”
“Clearly I do! You- you shouldn’t hide all this from us, we want to help you but we can’t if you don’t tell us anything is wrong!” She said. She seemed frustrated but he could tell she was just worried, and he hated to worry her. He couldn’t help but feel more and more guilty, a sick feeling in his stomach as he avoided looking at her.
If he were to be honest, he’d tell her he was in constant pain, every day. He’d tell her exactly how many times he remembered having dislocated shoulders and broken bones. He’d tell her about the scars across his back that ached constantly, he’d tell her about the scar on his leg that made it hard to get up at times. He’d tell her that he’d suffered inhuman treatment and brutal torture and he just couldn’t do that. He loved both his moms, so much, he felt awful for keeping things from them but he knew it was for the best, because the thought of worrying them was so much worse than the thought of keeping his pain to himself.
A whumpee desperately trying to break a door down, only it's not as if they just casually carry an axe around with them and since they have nothing else to assist them, they just repeatedly throw their entire body against it, accidentally dislocating a shoulder in the process
Bonus points if they can’t get through no matter how hard they try and someone they love is dying on the other side.
a non-canon continuation of this amazing drabble by @clockworknightmares! crow/eerin is their oc, not mine.
Eerin didn’t recognize him. This is his chance.
Nick grins, excited. He can hurt Crow and then wipe his memory, and help him, ease the pain, rescue him. He can have both.
He presses down on that shoulder again, harder. Shoves down on it until the joint that’s already dislocated grinds further out of place, and Crow’s face is sickly pale from the agony. That handsome face is twisted into a glorious silent scream.
It’s difficult maneuvering the boxed shifter, but he manages to make that other shoulder accessible and shove down on it too, press in on it with his fingers. He’s pushing so hard that he’s wedging Eerin deeper into the box, getting him stuck worse. The boxed boy is gasping weakly in growing panic.
“Hmm, you know, I think I’ll leave you in there for a while. I’m not quite in the mood to break bones right now.” Voice nearly trembling with excitement, the Hunter puts his hands on Crow’s head and shoves it down, wedging it back into the box and closing the lid. The nails are slammed back down into the wood with a spell and, there, he’s got a boxed Eerin, ready to be hurt whenever he feels like it.
He’s got to prepare the cellar. This one is special.
Three hours later, the Hunter stops wasting time and returns to the crate by his front door. He kicks the side of it, jarring the one trapped inside. Crow can’t make a sound, can’t speak. Maybe he’s crying in there. Oh, Nick can’t wait to make him sob.
He pries the lid off the crate and looks down on the folded young man. His fingertips trace over tightly-wound, spasming muscles. Eerin was made for this, he is absolutely beautiful when he’s in agony.
The Hunter takes his prize by the shoulders and hauls him out, bundling the poor starved thing up in his arms. For a second, as he holds Crow, he fantasizes about being gentle, comforting him, soothing his aches. But Eerin doesn’t remember him. Apparently, all the times he helped his friend weren’t memorable. So Nick wants to hurt him, hurt him bad, before erasing it and starting over.
He carries Crow down into the cellar, unable to be anything other than gentle on the way down. This is his friend, after all, and permanent damage is not the goal. No tossing him down the stairs to see how many of his bones will break.
Nick drops Crow to the floor and follows, pinning him. The need to control, to crush, is strong right now. First of all, if Eerin can form coherent thoughts, can grow resigned or judge or check out mentally, then the Hunter needs to prevent that straight off. He grabs one of Crow’s arms and twists it up behind his back until the shoulder creaks in warning; i’s already been dislocated, but it can still break.
“You can’t scream,” Nick says, leaning down, anger in his voice. It is an annoying fact, after all. “You can’t speak. But you can lose your breath, and twist, and cry. So, right now, I’m going to make you do those things. You look sweet enough crying that it just might make up for the silence.”
He twists that arm until something in it snaps - he doesn’t care what. Is Crow crying yet? It’s not enough pain. More pain, he can do. Nick kneels heavily on the back of Crow’s ribcage, ready to let his weight do half the work.
One spell, and one of those ribs cracks. Then another. They won’t buckle in, won’t puncture a lung, but it must hurt tremendously. It must be scary. It must be difficult to breathe.
But it’s not enough.
Nick flips Eerin over and straddles him once more. Now, he can see the tears. Now, he can better hear the hitching breaths. He places his hands at Crow’s hips and, with a blast of magic, dislocates them simultaneously.
Eerin erupts into a silent, stunning display of pain. His back arches up off the floor; his eyes go glassy and glitter with tears; his mouth stretches wide, his chest is paralyzed around a breath he can’t force out, his head tips back against the floor.
Nick keeps him from passing out with sated, winding magic slipping into his head, just so he can take all the time he wants putting slow, heavy pressure on those hips. He watches Eerin sob madly, soundlessly, cheeks soaked with tears and mouth forming pleas desperately.
Nick spends the whole afternoon breaking Crow, dislocating and twisting and crushing things, watching him closely for every reaction. He heals the worst of it as he goes so he can fix it all later. So he can see Crow cry in relief and lean close and communicate fondly in his mind that Nick is his friend, he trusts Nick, and he feels safe here. Comfortable. Nick can have both.
What happens when you (or someone else) loses their team? How do you get them back?
Good question!
Where I’m learning we always have a snowmobile as back up. The two times I’ve lost my team they’ve been tackled by my backup, or caught by the team in front.
The trail is also a big loop and the dogs usually run the same course so most of them just stop at the end out of habit.
If you don’t have back up you just prepare yourself for a long walk and hopefully your team gets caught up somewhere without major issues. (This could be your sled getting caught, your snow hook getting caught, your dogs getting tangled, or a random person catching your team)
While being dragged can be hella painful, it’s highly suggested that you don’t let go.
Play Button (though I know he won't need it): Cain, I want you to put the dogs - both into a stress position. It can be the same position for both, or a different one for each. I don't care. I want you to gag them - but make sure they can see each other - and then leave them for a few hours.
Pepperony I’m so sorry this has just been sitting in my inbox but I swear I didn’t forget, it’s just. A funky command ask turned into a drabble I have nothing to say for myself, there’s words and suffering.
(lemme know if I missed ya or if you’d like to be added!)
CW: Stress positions, muzzles, shoulder whump, brief mention of asphyxiation, Zander’s constant swearing, probably medical inaccuracies on how this works but yeah, no comf just whump
***
Wren’s eyes burned as they filled with tears, blurring the unfortunate sight in front of him. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, he tried to think of anything except for the pain he was in.
His wrists had been cuffed behind him, which was bearable, but of course it couldn’t end there. Cain had pulled his arms back, further and further until he was whimpering in pain, and that’s when they were chained to the wall. The chain was short, he couldn’t lean forward very much, but that wouldn’t have helped much anyway. The strain on his shoulders was nearly unbearable, he would’ve given anything to be relieved of that pain.
What was worse though was Zander, directly across the room from him, bound in an identical position. Cain had been particularly rough with him, yanking his arms back harshly, slapping him when he complained about the position- before they’d both been muzzled that is. He hated that, hated that they couldn’t even verbally comfort one another, forced to endure this agony in a silence only interrupted by muffled swearing and pathetic whimpers.
He didn’t think it was a punishment- normally Cain made it clear when it was, and because he left once they were in position Wren didn’t think it was done out of boredom either. It made him all the more frustrated that he didn’t know why this was happening, couldn’t even ask Zander what he thought about it. He wasn’t sure Zander would’ve been able to answer anyways, he seemed to be handling the strain worse than Wren was, which was… unnerving, to say the least. Wren was used to Zander being so stoic all the time, holding out even through pain until he just couldn’t anymore, but it seemed like he couldn’t handle this from the start. He kept his eyes screwed shut, and even though anything he said was muffled by the muzzle, Wren just knew he was swearing and yelling nonstop.
He shifted uncomfortably in his own restraints, trying to find a position that would lessen the pain even a little bit. It was more or less impossible though, and the frustration was only serving to make him more uncomfortable. Tears streamed down his face, catching along the edge of the muzzle, the feeling just noticeable enough to be irritating.
He wanted to get move, to stretch his arms out right and relieve the tension in them, to scream or swear or do something but he was trapped. He had no choice but to endure this agony until Cain came back for them, and he didn’t even know when that could possibly be, it could take hours and he wouldn’t know until his owner walked through that door again.
Honestly, he really wasn’t sure he’d even last that long.
***
Zander knew he wouldn’t be able to last until Cain got back. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking doing this, he wasn’t sure why he thought this would be a good idea, and he wanted to yell and scream and swear at him for it but he couldn’t, forcibly silenced when he even complained of the pain.
The strain on his shoulders was agonizing, a burning ache that just got worse and worse. It was particularly bad on his left shoulder, and he knew that if Cain didn’t come back soon this would end very, very poorly for him. He tried to stay as still as he possibly could but it was difficult when all he wanted to do was find a position that didn’t feel like he was being tortured.
He almost felt guilty for focusing on his own pain, when Wren was across the room and not doing any better than he was. He was crying behind that muzzle, forced to take deep breaths through his nose so he wouldn’t suffocate choking on sobs. He hated the muzzles more than anything, he couldn’t even try to calm him down, at least it would’ve been a brief distraction from his own pain. He wanted to stay quiet, stay strong so that Wren wouldn’t have to watch him break down, but it didn’t take long for the pain to get to him, the panic of a worse case scenario making him shout and swear even if the words would be stopped by the leather muzzle.
The strain on his shoulders continued to get more and more unbearable, and though he tried to prepare himself for it to get worse it still caught him off guard, the agonizing pain shot through his shoulder and he screamed when he involuntarily leaned forward, putting even more strain on his right shoulder. His breathing was nearly erratic, he was vaguely aware of Wren’s panicked shouting but he could hardly hear him over his heart pounding in his ears.
He’d suffered from dislocated shoulders so many times before but he’d never had so much pressure put on the joint, he’d never been forced to hold a position while dealing with that injury, and even though he was sure this was some kind of emergency, he knew it would be hours before he got any help.
***
Wren was worried sick by the time Cain finally returned. Hours had passed, hours holding this uncomfortable position, hours of Zander’s uncontrollable sobbing tearing at his heart. He couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, to see the unnatural way his arm was hanging. He couldn’t imagine how much that had to hurt and it killed him that he couldn’t do anything to help.
Cain seemed to realize what had happened almost immediately, the smug look on his face disappeared as he rushed over to Zander. He swore under his breath as he freed him, but the disturbance of his arm only made Zander whine more, his arms falling limp at his sides. Cain hesitated before deciding to remove the muzzle, though he seemed to regret it as soon as Zander opened his mouth.
“Fuck you!” He shouted, eyes screwed shut as he brought his hand to his injured shoulder. “You stupid fucking- god you fucking idiot!” He only opened his eyes to glare at Cain, even as tears streamed down his face.
“Would you calm down!?” Cain snapped at him, helping him to his feet.
“Yeah sure fucker let me just ignore the dislocated fucking shoulder-!” His voice pitched into a cry as the movement just made things worse. He was unsteady on his feet, Cain tried to help him out of the room only for Zander to snap at him again. “Don’t just fucking leave Wren! He can’t take this much longer either!”
Wren was surprised that Cain actually listened to him, he was quick to uncuff his wrists, and though Wren could hardly feel his arms at this point he tried not to whine too much. He was grateful that the muzzle was removed, taking a shuddering breath as he struggled to his feet.
“Wren, to your room, now.” Cain ordered him, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He spared a quick glance at Zander, he wanted to say something to him but he knew it was a bad idea, keeping his mouth shut as he struggled to make it there on his own. Keeping one position had been exhausting, his legs felt weak and numb from kneeling for so long, he was lucky it was only a short distance because he collapsed as soon as he was in the room. He hoped that Cain intended to get Zander some kind of help, but he figured he wouldn’t know until they came back, Cain locking him in the room as they walked past.
He was glad he hadn’t been left to wait in that uncomfortable position, but he wished that Cain had brought him along, only so he could stay with Zander, try to comfort him however he could. He knew he’d complained of pain in his shoulders before, he was always in so much pain and he hated to know that he’d have to endure even more because of some careless game Cain wanted to play.
He couldn’t help but scowl, tiredly rubbing at his aching arms. Even now, left by himself, he didn’t want to think about how much it hurt, he knew Zander was hurting way worse right now. He was glad that Cain seemed to tolerate being yelled at that way, or at least, that he didn’t plan to punish him for it immediately, only adding to his suffering. He hoped he’d let it slide, hoped that Zander could finally get a fucking break, but he knew it wasn’t likely.
He’d spent hours waiting for Cain to return, hours in excruciating pain, and now he had no choice but to do it again, sit down and wait just to find out if Zander was okay.
Brown eyes, wide and worried, keep flicking up between Lux’s face and his arms. Lux isn’t often left standing in the cellar, his wrists chained up, arms straight above his head. What worries Colten so much is the sound that those shoulders made - krrrpop - when they were yanked out of place. Lux screamed, and moaned, and then eventually went quiet after he got used to the pain of his dislocated joints.
“It’s okay,” The older prisoner assures, keeping the usual uncertain tremor out of his voice. He doesn’t so much as breathe too deeply. He has to be careful not to jar his shoulders and make sounds that will scare the little boy. “I’m okay. I promise. It’s, it’s not - it’s not that bad.”
Colten looks no less concerned. He shifts from sitting on the floor to sitting on his heels. “But, it looks like it hurts.”
Lux would nod if he could. “Yeah, it, it does. Little bit.”
A frown tugs more deeply at Colten’s lips at the familiar words. Lux is never only hurt a little bit. “They still gonna work? Are they - are they broken?”
“No, they’re not broken. They’re, um - they can get fixed. It’s not hard to fix ‘em. ‘ll h-hurt, but... they’ll be okay.” He flashes a bit of a smile. “Thank you for worrying, Cole, but you don’t have to.” Lux’s shoulders burn, they grate wrong, he can’t stand the position they’re being kept in or how his legs are nearly beginning to wobble, but it’s familiar pain. He can anticipate how it’ll develop, he knows it won’t spread (except down to his fingers in a wave of liquid fire, and down the sides of his chest and back if his muscles twinge wrong, and straight across the back of his neck to lance down his spine). It’s a measurable, manageable sort of agony. As long as he doesn’t move.
“Can I give you a hug, then? You always say I can always hug you.”
A terrible shiver runs across Lux’s skin. His distress must be visible, he’s never been good at hiding it. “Ple-ease don’t.” He can’t help the crack in his voice, especially since Cole’s gotten halfway through the motions of standing up while asking the question. The little boy plops back down. Frowning, worrying, helpless.
“When my arms are fixed,” The older warlock amends, because he can’t stand making Cole upset. “When I can hug you back. Just, can’t, d-don’t want to move…”
Cole nods and doesn’t argue; after all, Lux is obviously more than a little bit hurt.
Lux opens up his mouth to say something more, probably about to reel in his expression of fear after making Cole go so quiet, when there’s a sudden jarring sound. Chains clanking and shifting. Lux’s brows knit together, his skin loses color as blood drains from his face, and a terrible keen catches in his throat as his arms fall, and his body crumples to the floor. He’s unconscious before he hits the concrete below him.
The younger boy lurches forward, startled and hesitant, looking up at the hook in the ceiling. It’s steady, it hasn’t slipped from where it’s bolted in - the chains were locked, secure - how did it happen?
The Hunter. The man, the big angry man, he must have done it. With magic. From upstairs, not even watching, maybe hoping to hear a scream.
He was good, Lux was being good, Cole wants to yell. He wants to storm up the cellar stairs and kick the door and say, Hey! Why did you do that? He was being nice!
But the Hunter doesn’t know anything about being nice, he decides angrily, walking over to Lux and sitting down beside him. He doesn’t know anything about being nice at all.
We went away last Thursday after we got out of A&E because I dislocated both of my shoulders.. I've never felt pain like it and I don't want to feel it again. However I felt as though I deserved that pain because of how shit this year has gone!! I've treated the one person who I love so much like shit! Over someone who I thought I loved so much!! But we went away to EURO DISNEY and had an amazing few days! When we got back my mum was planning our next holiday next year abroad with her and my dad, me and my girl ❤️💕 my life is so great right now... So why do I feel numb? 😭
