#amputation tw

My muse used to have wings, but lost them. Send “where once wings were” for your muse to catch sight of the scars where my muse’s wings used to be.

Entry into the Broken World has been hazardous. So far, Nils and Angel has managed to avoid known Rift areas, hoping to keep her from any areas that could permanently affect her. By far, they just encountered fields of blue fires that burn without sources of combustion; sand dunes that seem to follow their every move; bridges over rains that fall up; and then lands composed of craters wherein acres of earth float into the sky.

Those in particular always scared Nils, as these islands could fall at any time and crush anyone and anything below. Though deep in his soul, they cause dread within him for a different reason....

He volunteered Angel to stay below, clear of any floating island, as to keep her safe from anything that could be lurking above--beasts that could snatch her out of nowhere, flowers taller than she and can spit poison, and so forth. She is not of this world... but Nils is. So in hopes find some food, Nils takes to the skies with little effort, with the Sigil of Flight carrying him with a pocket of wind blessed to him through the tattoos on his wings.

....Angel won't be able to hear it, but she can hear Nils yelling. Then flying in circles. Is he... yelling?? Shouting?

.....Arguing??

...With whom?

Then something happens mid-air. A flash of green and moonlight. And then a spray of... something. Blood. Was Nils just shot?? The avian plummets like a rock to the cratered earth below as two masses split violently from Nils' form, sending him crashing down into a nearby wood. Trees break his fall, thankfully, though the fall isn't the only thing that broke.

But scrapes and breaks aren't much for Angel to handle, no?

Except....

HEY, i think i just saw BOO JONGHYEON walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the TWENTY-NINE YEAR OLD is working as an OWNER OF PETAL PALS and lives in A COZY COTTAGE IN BOULDER CITY. given they are WARM-HEARTED but CREDULOUS, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to SPACE SONG BY BEACH HOUSE and you’ll know why they’re called THE TENDER BLOOM. ( demiboy + he/they. demisexual + scorpio )

PINTEREST.

continued from here {x}

The blast comes back first. Not the sound, just the aftermath. Ringing, sharp and endless, like it is carved into his skull. The air is thick with smoke, heat pressing in from every direction, and the smell, burnt flesh, fuel, something metallic, sticks in the back of his throat until he cannot breathe around it. The ground is wrong beneath him, uneven, soaked, and when his hand presses down to steady himself it comes away slick.

Blood. Too much of it.

“No, no, no.” The words tear out of him, frantic, disjointed as his other hand clamps down hard over his leg, trying to stop something that will not stop. His fingers slip, tightening again, shaking. “Tourniquet. I need a tourniquet.” His head jerks up, eyes wild.

And locks onto a figure in front of him. For a split second, something flickers. Not recognition. Not safety. Fear. Raw. Immediate. The kind that hits before thought, before logic, before anything else can catch up. His pupils blow wide, breath catching hard in his throat as he stares straight at Robby, but he does not see him. Not really. Whatever he is looking at, it is not the man in front of him.

“Hey, where the hell were you?” Jack snaps, voice rough and urgent, but there is a fracture under it now, something unsteady, like he does not trust what he is seeing. His grip tightens again over his leg, shaking harder. “I am hit, I am hit, I cannot.” His breath stutters violently, eyes darting like the scene will not stay still. “Get it tight, higher, higher, you gotta.”

Something else cuts through.

“Corporal.” It rips out of him, sharper this time, edged with panic. His head turns fast, scanning through smoke that is not there, then back again, back to Robby, with that same fear still sitting in his eyes, like he is trying to place him and cannot. “Where is he bleeding from? Tell me where he is bleeding from.” His voice cracks hard, desperation bleeding straight through. “I cannot see. I cannot.”

He tries to move, body not cooperating, but his gaze keeps snapping back to Robby like he is both the only thing there and something he does not fully trust.

“Do not let him bleed out. Do not just stand there. Please!"

Jack’s unit had been sent out to clear a village—routine, as much as anything ever was. They moved in formation, controlled and alert, the kind of quiet that felt wrong. The corporal ahead of him stepped forward—and then the world split open.

The blast knocked Jack flat, the air ripped from his lungs as everything dissolved into ringing and dust. When his vision came back in fragments, nothing made sense at first—shapes moving, mouths shouting words he couldn’t hear. Then it did. The corporal was down about ten feet away, crumpled and covered in blood. Training took over instantly. Jack tried to get up—once, twice—but his leg gave out and sent him back into the dirt. He didn’t question it. He just kept trying, focused entirely on getting to him.

It wasn’t until the third or fourth time he hit the ground that something broke through. Something was wrong. He looked down, and for a second, his brain didn’t process it. Then he saw. His foot was gone. The pain followed, sharp and overwhelming, but it still didn’t take priority. Because the corporal was still down.

When the rest of his unit reached him, Jack was already giving instructions, voice rough and automatic as he tried to direct them through applying a tourniquet. But even as they worked on him, he kept pushing them away, telling them to go help the corporal. Someone finally told him the truth—that there was nothing to be done. Jack didn’t believe it, not at first. His mind rejected it outright.

commissioned @cupcakeslushie to draw the moment in the apocalypse timeline when leo has to have his arm amputated :)

Because it is of no consequence and horribly self indulgent: gaius is missing the ring finger on his left hand. I can't remember if I had it done in the fall of Agrius, or if I claimed Zenos did it as a kid (as a result of Gaius giving him his first pocket knife and playfighting with him), but it exists.

Why did i do that? Literally only because my grandpa has lacked his left ring finger for as long as I've been alive and it was a little homage. He lost it working at an auto repair shop when he was freshly married. Needless to say he was proven unable to wear a ring after that.

have you seen ( mickey whitlock-holmes, he/him )? They look a lot like ( richard madden ). The ( 34 ) year old ( funeral director & 'fixer' ) is so ( jocular, purposive, streetwise ) but I heard they can also be really ( facetious, miscreant, tactless ). Can you believe they’ve been in town for ( 34 years )?! They live in the ( the stacks ) neighborhood and kind of remind me of ( late night phone buzzing, overcharging siblings on owned railroad monopolies, sweeping up twin boys - one in each arm, carrying one end of a heavy casket, and getting his twin into headlocks ). If I was asked, I’d guess that they were ( thing 2 ) in their yearbook for the class of ( 2008 ).

TRIGGERS: death mention, criminal behavior, depression