#improper gun use cw

[adelinelives]

🦋          »        what    would    your    character    do    if    they    knew    they    could    not    fail    ? 💙          »        name    3    things    your    character    is    grateful    for    . 💧          »        when    was    the    last    time    your    character    did    something    for    the    first    time    ? 🐟          »        what    does    your    character’s    voice    sound    like    ?    do    they    tend    to    use    simple    or    worldly    vocabulary    ?

a    set    of    thought    provoking    questions    based    around    character    development    :    accepting.

🦋          »        what    would    your    character    do    if    they    knew    they    could    not    fail    ?

answered here.

💙          »        name    3    things    your    character    is    grateful    for    .

her brothers, for teaching her how to stick around.

her bank, for keeping her debt-free and for fuelling her slothful lifestyle.

her plane, for allowing her to escape if only for a day.

💧          »        when    was    the    last    time    your    character    did    something    for    the    first    time    ?

six months ago, she shot a gun for the first time. it was in a restricted area of a hotel she was staying at with her ex. they aimed towards the clearing of trees, wedging bullets into their trunks the way others would carve their initials.

adeline was a worse aim; her ex stood behind her, chin on her shoulder and hands on her shaky arms. her heartbeat flared and the shadows began to move. “    stop,    ” she says, “stop–” they make a sound, something between a scoff and a laugh. “i'm just    joshin',    lighten up.” her eyes almost remembered how to cry.

🐟          »        what    does    your    character’s    voice    sound    like    ?    do    they    tend    to    use    simple    or    worldly    vocabulary    ?

she speaks slowly and softly, like she's too lazy to even speak. somewhere between liv tyler's voice and florence pugh's cadence. she's very curt, even in her sarcasm. she'd like to think she's more of a wordier sentence woman, but it's her thoughts are more complex than the words she can create. she's more surface-level than she'd like to admit. she's very curt, even in her sarcasm; so, simple language for a sharp opinion of social life.

[cubeshapedlemon]

Hellooo, could you please write cooper Howard x trans!male reader? Ftm, so he/him, maybe like a bit of smut and I’d like to think that it would catch him off guard because reader passes pretty well, thanks! 🫶🏼

hey! i really apologize for how long this took my excuse is definitely something that i definitely am saying and definitely not some bs that really just means i was lazy. i hope you like it! im sorry its definitely not my best but enjoy if you can!

Way Back Home

A grody bar isn't usually where you expect to find worthwhile company, it is where you would expect to find one murderous gunslinger, turns out they can be one in the same.

☆ ☆ ☆

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Trans Masc Reader

3.4k words

cw/tags: trans male reader, cannon typical violence, improper binding techniques (mentioned), bottom growth, oral sex (tm receiving), piv, unprotected sex, pet names, implied childhood abuse, implied transphobia if you really squint (not by the ghoul), alcohol, smoking

☆ ☆ ☆

authors note: hey! again i apologize for everything stated under the ask but yeah! please lmk if i made any spelling or grammar mistakes or if i missed something in the tags. Also don't translate repost or copy this fanfic anywhere without my permission. thank you for requesting and thank you for reading!

The poor excuse for a bar you've found yourself in certainly has an interesting vibe. Tension between groups is so thick it chokes anyone that enters. Ghouls and other mutants aren't exactly popular around these parts, so when the bar owner decided to start letting them in to increase profits, the local population wasn't exactly thrilled.

Though you could care less, just passing through for a drink and whatever interactions come your way. There's no shame in that, just because the world is a blistering hellscape of barbarians, bullets, and blood doesn't mean a guy can't blow off some steam every once and a while. Though tonight, no one seemed particularly interesting.

That is of course until he roamed in. You had heard about him, the fearless gun-slinging ghoul. Wandering the wasteland and making more caps in a month than most people see in a lifetime. He certainly had a reputation. It was very clear that he knew.

Narrow hips swinging lazily as he walks in, eyes roving over the crowd of patrons, all of whom now had quieted down their conversations by at least one notch. His scarred lips pull back into a cocky smirk, tongue tip curling to lick his time and tobacco-stained teeth. Huffing out what looked to be a chuckle, he refocuses, walking towards the bar.

His gaze fixates on you, challenging you almost, it doesn't falter once, only breaking to give you a curt nod, turning to wave over the bartender to order. If you were honest, you would admit what the intensity of that eye contact did to you. The waves of desire shooting downwards. But there is no place for honesty in the wasteland.

Taking a sip of your drink, attempting to still your nerves through the burn of it, you hear an over exaggerated sigh next to you. “Now, I'd love to chit chat, but we both know why I'm here. Don't we?” Of course, it really was only a matter of time. “I believe we do,” you say non-committedly, turning to look at the bounty hunter.

“Well that certainly saves us some time now,” he declares, turning his head only slightly, eyes still straight ahead. “Your dear ol’ boss ain't too happy with you, put a pretty penny on your head in fact.” Straightening your posture, your hand discreetly slides to your holster, ready to go at a moment's notice. “So I've heard,” you acknowledge, tone flat and untrusting. The ghoul certainly was no angel. It would be foolish to not be prepared for the worst.

“See now, I don't have any interest in killin’ you,” he clarifies, “For now at least.” Finally turning to meet your gaze once again. Surprise befalls your face, which he notices, but does not comment on. “I need ya’ for somethin’ else.” Oh. “While I can think of plenty a’ reasons to keep a pretty boy like you in my company,” He comments, hazel eyes running up and down your body. “You're particularly useful to me in terms of your former boss.”

Clearing your throat, you decide to engage with him, anything you could do to not get on his bad side at this point would be to your advantage. Though it's not time to show our cards. He doesn't need to know everything. “And how is that? I was never anything but a grunt with a gun for that asshole,” You say, the lie sounding pretty convincing if you were to say so.

A small smirk falls on his face, like he knows. It's so small you almost missed it. “Asshole is right,” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes and matches out of a pocket in his duster. “That piece of shit owes me ‘bout 600 caps.” he grits out, striking a match against his boot and lighting the cigarette that is now delicately clenched between his lips.

“Anyhow,” he begins, inhaling. “He wants you back alive, so you get the pleasure of bein’ a ‘bargaining’ chip and pack mule,” he laughs out, flicking the ash onto the bartop. Wow this guy is confident, “Yeah? What's in it for me?” Taking another puff from his cigarette he grins, “What's in it for you huh?” he barks out a short laugh, “Well Casanova, you get to stay alive.” I mean what could you really expect?

☆ ☆ ☆

By about the 6th day on the road he had gotten decently comfortable, allowing you to have your hands unbinded, and even chatting a little bit. Not that you exactly learned anything from those interactions, anything important that is. Pretty much the only things you managed to deduce was he was a fan of old movies, chems, and alcohol. The old movies thing might be a stretch though, while he did reference them he never gave a true opinion.

Now, the end of the 7th day, setting down for the night, you search through your pack, hoping that there was a crushed can of something or other at the bottom. It was unusual for you to be so low on food. Usually replenishing supplies every 4 days. But of course, you haven't gotten to do that. Ghoul's clearly don't need as much food and water as smoothskins. At least this one didn't. You had only seen him eat and drink a few times over the past week. Even then, it was small and he didn't seem to enjoy it very much. Anyway, he clearly was in no hurry to stock up on food.

Which ultimately is the reason your rummage had left you empty handed. Releasing a frustrated groan, you drop your pack on the ground again. The hollow thud of fabric accompanying your discontented huff. “What are you bitchin’ about now?” The ghoul asks, you could almost hear the eyeroll in his question. Looking up at him, you don't feel the need to dignify him with an answer. Leaning back on the rock behind you, you look at him half lidded. Clearly not understanding your intent to be frustrated and nonchalant, your stomach growls, spelling out his answer.

“I forget how often you smoothies have to eat,” he says, almost to himself. Rolling your eyes, you focus on what he is doing. Hand gripping his knife, he places it over the fire, a piece of what looks to be rad rat meat speared on it. Turning it over steadily, he roasts it. The once raw, gamey meat slowly becoming edible. Not that he particularly cares about that, usually he'll just eat it fresh and bloody. Must have just felt like something different.

His usually piercing gaze is at a soft focus, intent on the task of cooking, but almost peaceful. The swirls of gold in his eyes become more pronounced in the firelight. Now that you can focus on him, as far as ghouls go, he's pretty handsome. Well, actually as far as people go, he is. You never really fancied yourself a ghoul fucker, but he just had something about him.

After a few minutes, he pulls his knife away from the fire. Plopping the hunk of meat onto a handkerchief on the ground in front of him, he begins slicing it up. Chopping up the more undesirable bits off and setting them aside, as well as slicing the bulk into strips. Bunching the handkerchief portion in one hand, and the undesirables in the other, he walks over to you. Popping what seems to be a limb into his mouth, crunching as he bites down. “Here,” he says, dropping the handkerchief onto your lap, walking back to his original spot and sitting.

You must have made a sound of surprise, or at least you must have looked surprised. Either way the ghoul feels the need to make a reasoning for his decision. His mouth full, he speaks again. “What? Can't have you goin’ ‘round passin’ out on me.” Responding with a small hum, you pluck a slice from your lap, placing it in your mouth. While sustenance was sustenance, it didn't mean it was the best. The tough meat forcing you to rip it with your teeth to make it more manageable.

Out of your peripheral you notice him staring, gaze locked onto your face, and more specifically your mouth. Running his tongue across his teeth, his gaze roves down your body before removing itself entirely. Tipping his hat down to cover his eyes, he leans back, getting comfortable.

He sure is interesting.

☆ ☆ ☆

About halfway into the next day you finally get to the all-too familiar settlement. Rusted chain link fence and scrap-built home looking all the same. A spike of anxiety pulls at your throat in seeing it again. Memories flooding back of the cuts and bruises sustained in that house. For as long as you could remember.

The freshest of them, now only a memory. Scar tissue thick against your fingertips as you rub against them absentmindedly. A push on the back pulls you from your haze, “Come on now’ we ain't got all day,” The ghoul reminds, his tone is gruff, like he wants to get this over with already. Before your brain gets the message, your legs do. Walking to the door, two grunts standing guard. With a nod from the ghoul they open the door.

Walking a few paces inside, you quickly come face to face with him. A dangerous sneer pulls over his face as he sees you. Dark, beady eyes locking onto yours. “Hello, son,” he says, gritting out the last word like a mockery. “It’s about time you came home.” In your peripherals you see the ghoul subtlety raise a brow at that, but makes no other indication he noticed. Your ‘father’ slowly moves his gaze from you to the ghoul.

“So you don't just kill everything in your path,” he laughs out, “You actually followed my instructions to keep him alive, that's certainly a first for you.” His words attempt to pierce the thick skin of the ghoul, but they easily fall flat as the ghoul just gives him a grin. “While this back n’ forth we have is real cute n’ all I think it's ‘bout time you pay your dues.” Stepping closer to him, the ghoul places a heavy hand on the back of your neck, gripping the slightly grown-out hair at the nape. His grasp tightens to an almost painful level, the pressure releasing slightly when he pulls your head back, neck bearing towards him.

“See, I've grown a little attached to this one. I really was wonderin’ if I should bring him back at all.” As the last sentence ends his gaze is pulled to your exposed neck, before flicking back to your father with a deeper intensity than you have ever seen. “You haven't been very good at paying your bills,” he laughs out, releasing your neck with a push forward. Lazily waltzing forward he comes to what seems to be about a 5 foot gap between himself, and your father. “You give me, double, you get to keep on breathin’,” As the ghoul's words sink in, you see your fathers fists tighten, the guards in the room readying themselves for his signal.

Without a second thought, your father gives the signal. Before you can even blink, shots ring out in the room. It takes you a moment to even process what happened, but once you do, you don't know what to do. About ten feet ahead of you your father, or what used to be him, has slumped to the ground in a pathetic lump. Next to him, his top two men. When your ears stop ringing, you hear the ghoul. “Come on now, move your ass! I ain't got all day,” he says to one of the other guards in the room, gun pointed to his head. “Unless you wanna join spaghetti bolognese over there, I would suggest you get me what I'm owed.”

Clearly not wanting to risk it, the guard quickly collects a bag of caps, placing it in his hand. Snatching the bag, the ghoul walks back to you, grabbing you by the neck again to force you out the door with him. “Come on now pretty boy, I got better shit to do then wait around here all day.”

☆ ☆ ☆

It has now been a few months since you had started traveling with the ghoul. It had surprised you originally when he made you travel with him still, instead of just dropping you and going on his way. But at this point you could not imagine a different life. While you guys aren't exactly close, you certainly trusted each other to an extent. At this point you had been through many things together, and you had truly proved your usefulness to earn your keep.

But even through this, that one lingering feeling always stuck. The ache that had been there since the first time he had looked at you. He must have felt it to, with the way that he looked at you. It truly could only be described as erotic in some contexts. But of course, with the good came the bad. He made you angry like no other, his stubbornness could break even the most hard-headed opponent. Right now was a great example of that in fact.

A rad storm raging on outside the rickety walls of the shelter you had found yourself in, he still found it a great time to try and win the gold metal in bitching and complaining. “That storm ain't shit, we coulda’ out run it if you weren't so goddamn slow.” he said, his words having a familiar sharpness but, at this point, no real bite. “I wouldn't be so slow if we weren't walking for the past 3 days straight!” you half-yell back, he laughs at that, head tossed back slightly. “You smoothies are so goddamn weak, I could be the next town over if I finally got rid of your ass.” His tone is low and mocking.

“Weak huh? You wanna say that to my fucking face? You can't work without me.” you say back, frustration truly spilling over into your tone. “Oh would I ever,” the ghoul says, walking over to you. His gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that pins you to the wall. As he closes in on you, frame practically pinning you to the wall, he leans in even closer, his face inches from yours. Before either of you can tell who initiated, your lips attach. A groan falling from his scarred lips, he works his heavy grasp up your body, eventually ending on your jaw. Forcing you even closer somehow, his tongue works its way into your mouth, the metallic sting of blood and tobacco invading your senses, not that you could manage to care.

Using his other hand, he drags it down your front, undoing your belt, and slipping his hand down your pants. He pulls his lips from you in surprise at what he finds. His fingers drag across your folds collecting moisture. Moving upwards again, his fingers trail across your bottom growth before pulling out of your pants. You breath in shakily, knowing that's not what he was expecting, you wait very impatiently for him to say something.

With a small grin he looks at his fingers, your wetness dripping from them, and then back to you. “Well cowpoke, I certainly wasn't expecting that. But I'm sure you'll taste just as good drippin’ on my tongue as you woulda’ felt down my throat.” With that last word, he slips his fingers into his mouth, releasing an honest, and gratuitous moan at your taste. Removing his fingers, he swiftly drops to a knee, tugging your boots, pants, and boxers down. Placing one leg on his raised knee, he opens you up for him. His gaze running from your eyes all the way down to your center. After taking you in for a moment, he hungrily attaches himself to your core.

Flattening his tongue he collects your wetness, once again moaning at the flavor. After a few more licks, he suctions his lips around your bottom growth. With light suction he luxuriously wraps his tongue around it, his usual ferocity, somehow not present. While his gaze locks onto yours, you see his eyelids flutter slightly. In the time that you have known him, you had never known the ghoul to be a patient man, but in this moment, he wanted to take his time. And oh gods above, he was.

Rolling his tongue over your core again, he slips the pink muscle inside, pressing against that perfect spot inside of you, but he removes it quickly, much to your dismay. releasing a frustrated groan, you grab the back of his neck, his hat tipping off and falling to the ground in the process. He seems to get a kick out of that frustration, now retreating entirely from your core in favor of nipping at your thighs. Your frustration growing, you push his head back. Looking at him now he truly looks better than ever, his face seems to be something akin to flushed, the lower half of it covered in you. “Come on now, I don't have all day.”

He chuckles at your use of the phrase, echoing the many times he has said it over the past months. Giving one last teasing nip to your thigh, his fingers now running across your wetness, slipping two in at once. The sudden fullness catching you off guard, you steady yourself against him. Giving you only a moment, he quickly sets a brutal pace. The tips of his middle and ring fingers brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. The waves of pleasure begin hitting harder and harder, the sensation building in your lower half.

With this increase, your moans only grow, echoing throughout the shelter, the sounds of the rad storm now unimportant. Noticing this uptick, he reattaches his lips to your bottom growth, the soft kitten licks from earlier now replaced by firmer, more desperate pressure. With this addition the waves soon become sparks, the edge coming into sight. “Fuck- Im gonna-” you sob. He only nods in acknowledgement, continuing his ministrations. Finally allowing yourself, you fall off the edge. Pleasure bursting forth in a way it never has before. Your legs quaking and clenching as his motions stay consistent throughout, working you through it. He only stops once you push him away.

Pulling his fingers out, he laps at the residual wetness, giving you a moment to gather yourself. As he does so, his other hand presses against the front of his pants, which you now notice are significantly tighter than before. His hips buck forward into his own hand. Without warning he gets up, wrapping your legs around his torso he walks you to a countertop a few feet away, placing you on it. His lips connect themselves with yours again, his dominating presence becoming even more clear as he tears your shirt down the center, buttons ripped off, the sound of them hitting the floor only distant background noise.

His hands drag their way up your torso, taking a moment to appreciate everywhere they find themselves, the patch of hair leading to your core, the raised scarring on your waist. His fingers even taking a moment to run the gauze that binds your chest. Tearing his lips away from yours, they move down your neck leaving bite marks and deep bruises in their wake. With his other hand he releases himself from his pants.

He gives himself a few pumps, yet quite impatiently, he leads himself to your core, pressing inside. The wetness allows this to happen with little to no resistance. He fills you completely, setting a harsh pace. His hips slamming into yours as he steadies himself, wrapping an arm around your waist for leverage. Releasing a groan of his own, he tilts his head back, taking everything in. His eyes are half lidded, and focused on where your bodies connect. Still being sensitive from your last orgasm, you feel the pressure build sooner, clenching around his length he grips onto you even harder. “Fuck- I ain't gonna last long if you keep doin’ that.”

Smiling to yourself you do just that, one hand going to your center, pushing yourself closer and closer with each stroke. Purposely clenching more than normal, teasing him closer as well. “I'm serious doll, I won't,” he warns, though he doesn't change his pace. “I know, I won't last either,” you gasp out, reassuring him. With a few more thrusts, the waves come crashing down. He soon follows after you, releasing inside of you. He steadies himself on the counter top before removing himself from you, and tucking himself back into his pants, grabbing a clean rag and tossing it to you to clean yourself up with.

Lets hope this shelter has some RadAway somewhere…

[ghost-in-the-hella]

Content Warnings: NTTWIO 2.10

Content warnings for Act II Chapter 10 of Now That the World is Over below the cut. There are quite a few. Take care of yourselves, folks.

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CW: gun use, improper firearm handling, referenced character deaths, drug use (pot), referenced/implied self harm, referenced/implied domestic abuse, minor injury, referenced PTSD/PTSD flashback, sexual content (not explicit), discussion of zombies/undeath, descriptions of human decay.

[ao3feed-usukus]

Heavens Fall

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Q8WcABG by JuicyOrange George washington falls from heaven, not expecting to find himself in a predicament with Velvette and Charlie. While he has to save America in Hell, Dhar Mann is by his side to save the day. Words: 347, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Other Characters: Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Dhar Mann, Ed Sheeran, George Washington, Martha Washington, Bridgette (Bistro Huddy), Nicole (Bistro Huddy), Kasey, Original Child(ren) of Alastor and Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel) Relationships: Bridgette/Nicole (Bistro Huddy), velvette/star (hazbin hotel), velvette/kasey (hazbin hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Velvette, America/England (Hetalia), George Washington/Martha Washington, Dhar Mann/Ed Sheeran, Dhar Mann/You Additional Tags: Kinks, Voyeurism, Accidental Voyeurism, Car Accidents, Fluff, Omega Verse, Masochism, Sadism, BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Bondage, rope bunny, Brat, brat taming, Leather Kink, Latex, Alcohol, Drugs, dhar mann needs a hug, Menstruation Kink, Menstruation, Daddy sauce, man milk, baby batter, love plunger, Daddy Complex, Mommy/Daddy Kink, Character Death, Guns, no beta read we die like george washington, Inappropriate Use of Poetry, Accidental Therapy, Accidental Marriage, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Drug Use, too many speedos, Dubious Science, This is sad guys, This has a plot i promise, CW: this has shoulder pads, coronavirus x earth, no beta we die like everyone else, Vanilla Kink, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, peanut allergies read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Q8WcABG

[graffitibible]

how do killjoys treat raygun burns? i genuinely have no idea and i know you've already gone pretty in-depth with raygun wounds in general but i was curious about the treatment

cw: we’re gonna be talking about medical stuff and injuries in here. i’m not gonna include any graphic pictures and also i’m gonna warn anyone who wants to do further research that some of the images that’ll come up are gonna be pretty damn graphic. tread carefully!

SO i’m gonna be going off this ask here, and running with the assumption that raygun burns probably both bleed and burn. thats important since thats gonna affect how youd do treatment. it also means that raygun injuries are messy. most burn injuries in the real world can cauterize - theyre unique in that the site of injury is usually sterile at the time of injury. however, since the rayguns in this world are capable of making someone bleed (rather a lot too, if the comics are any indication), that means that these wounds can get pretty gnarly.

the important thing about how rayguns in danger days seem to work is that they are not pure laser bolts! if they were, they’d be able to pass through something and cauterize it pretty neatly, like a lightsaber. the raygun blasts have an obvious physical component - they can physically knock someone back, for example, and we see sparks shower when people are shot in the music videos. so rayguns in danger days have an apparent kinetic component to them: you are basically applying heat to the human body at high velocity. 

ONCE AGAIN, THIS GOT LONG. THE REST IS UNDER A CUT. mind the content warnings above!!

other than that, we’re not sure what specifically the makeup of the lasers like...are. electromagnetic radiation? plasma? heat? electricity? i doubt its pure electricity since that would be more consistently fatal, but it is some kind of bolt that has both heat and velocity on its side to be sure, but thats the extent of what we know.

now logically, this would actually cause the human body to like. explode. cause thats what happens when you apply that much heat to something made of mostly water. getting hit with a bolt of something that hot would cause all that water to boil off abruptly and then the steam would fucking parboil you. not a fun way to go though it is funny that the steam would be the thing that causes the most damage. so yeah actually a very gory kind of injury.

obviously thats not what happens in danger days, since no one to my knowledge Fucking Explodes when theyre hit with a laser bolt. but lasers from rayguns can make blood FOUNTAIN OUT OF A DUDE’S GUT in the comics so obviously they can do a hell of a lot of damage (the mvs are way less explicit but they also werent allowed to like, swear in the mvs and had to tone down some of the violence and shit so im taking the comics canon as the more “realistic” one wrt rayguns here) the science here is kinda...eh, cause laser bolts don’t appear to be a penetrating injury but rather a messy “burn and blister” kind of injury that are nonetheless capable of making someone eat it pretty quick.

but this is danger days and this is kinda where science goes to die so here is how i view laser injuries in the universe:

danger days laser bolts have a kinetic or explosive quality to them.

what this means is that the injury is twofold: first, the heat damages the external layer of skin. i’d hazard that we’re talking second-to-third degree burn levels of injury on immediate contact. second, the kinetic energy released at that velocity and force generates an explosive impact that does damage to surrounding tissue.

what’s left is an injury that both burns and bleeds. my take on it is that the bolt impact creates the open wound, while the heat intensifies that damage and disseminates it. you need a temp of maybe 300ºF and higher to cauterize a wound so lasers would have to burn at least a little bit lower than that since the injuries do consistently bleed. but since the human body is pretty sensitive to high temperatures that works out in our favor seeing as if you heat things too much, again, the risk is that we would Fucking Explode.

lots of burn injuries, especially third degree and higher, tend to bleed. since thats the closest thing i have to compare to a laser wound in danger days, thats going to be my basis here.

treating a raygun injury is likely to resemble burn treatment in a lot of ways

burn treatment stuff varies a lot and i will spare you guys from googling this and going “oh thank you google images thank you for showing me what a graphic third degree burn looks like i am so glad that i know this and that this is in my search history and keeps popping up in my search history im SO GLAD.” 

burn injuries go by degrees. first degree is like mild sunburn basically, and only affects the epidermis or external layer of skin. second degree affects the top and middle layers of skin and can leave blisters. third degree burns go all the way to the subcutaneous fat layer and can leave the skin white and charred. fourth degree burns can go through nerves and muscles and even down to the bone and can cause permanent damage that requires amputation. at fifth degree you have significant risk of organ injury and at sixth it’s basically like “fifth degree, but with the common side effect of Death.” 

again im not linking to anything here because pretty much every information article you get on this stuff is gonna have some nice graphic images. so if you look this stuff up on your own do it at your own risk or have an image/media blocker extension ready if that kinda thing squicks you out

the main takeaway is that any burn from like the third degree downward can be very brutal and hard to heal over - they can cause swelling and severe scarring and the destruction of the epidermis and hair follicles means that new hair won’t grow. add to that the idea of raygun blasts tearing open that external layer of skin that means that you can get burns that go in pretty deep which would go a long way to explain how it is a weapon that doesn’t appear to have a lot of “penetrating” energy is capable of killing someone relatively immediately, especially if theyve got that initial kinetic impact thats capable of tearing open the dermis and making the injury go deeper.

im going to tentatively say that raygun injuries are basically full-thickness burns with a few bells and whistles. basically, they destroy the epidermis and the layer of skin below it, the dermis. thats the level of third/fourth degree burns and worse, essentially.

so, serious burn treatment usually goes as follows:

clean! that! wound! it’s best to do this in a sterile environment, cause otherwise youre gonna end up blistering the injury and agitating it further. you wanna get all the dead tissue and gunk off the burn.

pain medication. with most burns the nerve endings can get pretty fried and you might not immediately experience any pain, but since raygun injuries go a little harder than your average burn, thats probably not the case. people definitely consistently react in pain after theyre shot with a raygun in the both the mvs and the comics. so yeah, its painful. pain medication is nice to mute that feeling.

antibiotics and/or tetanus shots to make sure that you don’t get an infection

intravenous fluids containing electrolytes as well as a diet high in protein and nutritional supplements

antibiotic ointments/creams for the injury

skin grafts to close the injury since a burn of that severity would have difficulty closing completely on its own. yikes.

continuous monitoring of the patient to prevent sepsis and eschar from fucking with the blood vessels and healing tissue.

obviously killjoys do not have the benefit of a fully stocked hospital. if youre in bat city youre probably gonna be in more luck. but if youre slumming it or if youre in the zones, heres what i imagine the killjoy diy procedure would likely be:

application of water over the wound. cool water is best, not ice-cold (alright alright alright alright alright etc)

cleaning the injury comes next to prevent infection. ideally you would use soap. do not scrub as youll agitate the wound

pain medication might be helpful here, but who knows if thats common out in the zones - and i imagine city-born killjoys might have some hang-ups with taking meds, so who fuckin knows there.

bandages, ideally clean ones, would help cover up the injury and keep it from the elements in time for it to heal. that will also cover up the skin while the bleeding heals up. keep the wound as closed from infection as possible.

check up on the injury consistently especially since the burn probably wasnt sterilized on impact the way most burns are. a messy injury like that one can go south very very quick.

realistically i doubt that skin grafts are readily available. its recommended that you stay out of the sun and avoid lots of exercise that might risk reopening the injury. and that...is going to be nigh impossible if youre a zonerunner lol. its likely that improper treatment can lead to infection and then death. it is also likely that too much agitation of the injury can lead to the wound reopening, infection, and then death.

if you get stuff like light grazes, where the bolts clip you but dont fully impact you, that means youre like to get some surface-level burns that cover a larger surface area. theyll heal quicker if you treat them right, but thats a larger area thats open to infection. burns that go deep into the skin have more immediate fatality risk. there could be variation here as well! maybe a laser gun with a lower or dying charge will do less damage. maybe some guns have fancy “stun” settings that don’t do permanent damage.

the human body is surprisingly resilient and can recover from a lot. but burns are no joke and a raygun blast can easily be fatal either immediately or a little bit after the fact. even if you survive the blast, there are likely to be a lot of repercussions to taking a serious hit, which im again basing on the noted consequences of major burn injuries

likely consequences of surviving a raygun hit in the zones:

scarring. especially without skin grafts, this ones gonna be a gimme, and likely permanent. serious burns can leave lots of color changes to the skin as well as keloid tissue (which is a raised, lumpy kind of scar tissue. you can google it if you want but as i warned before: images might be pretty grody). this would also prevent the growth of new hair in those areas. most hospitals try to excise this and replace it with skin grafts to speed healing but like i said thats not likely to be an obvious solution in the desert.

nerve damage. burns that go super deep can permanently remove the feeling from the affected part of the body. this is likely to be permanent. deep contact usually remains intact but stuff like subtle pressure changes can be outright impossible to sense. this can also cause contractures in the affected area.

weakness in the affected area. related to the above point, damage to muscle tissue and nerves can reduce range of motion, strength in that area, and more.

itching and pain at the site of injury. pretty self-explanatory. that one might get better as you go on depending on how good the medical treatment was at the time of injury.

inability to sweat. the destruction of sweat glands in affected areas are possible if the burn goes deep enough. in the desert this can be very bad news lol

psychological trauma. a given. any traumatic injury can have long-term psychological effects.

my main takeaway here is that killjoys who’ve been in lots of serious firefights are gonna have a sHITTON of scarring, some of it obvious. lots of killjoys looking pretty fucked up. lookin wiped out. my other takeaway is that surviving a raygun blast is pretty dependent on getting care for it as soon as possible, cause the infection/hemorrhage risk seems pretty high.

ofc this is just me analyzing this shit to hell and back and it’s probably nowhere near that scientifically DENSE im just detail-oriented as hell. so take or leave this answer, whichever you like lol. i like writing the nitty gritty details of injuries since i generally wanna emphasize how rough life in the zones can be so this is something im interested in exploring.