#tw loss of limbs
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sha-biest · 1 year ago
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I don't think I understood very well what the hell happened, so I'm going to ask, how did Leo and Donnie lost their arms? Also, why did they lost opposite arms?
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TW: Loss of limbs, blood/injury [Continuation from Donnie's explanation here]
After Donnie send out that signal to the his brothers with his location Bishop knew that his time was running out. He had been experimenting with Krang tech and he wasn't ready to let his mutant specimen go just like that. He'd rather have him dead than anything else. Leo saw what was about to happen and jumped into action. Donnie was struggling to get up, weakened from the week in Bishop's "care" and he couldn't do much when he saw Leo rush at him yelling and reaching out. It was enough to save his twin and Leo would trade any limb for that.
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shepscapades · 5 months ago
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[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [PART 7] [Don’t Let it Reach the Heart]
Nobody Anymore Nobody Anymore
[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction. This part concludes this comic, but this moment doesn't end here: Don't Let it Reach the Heart will be the title of the fic that will follow the end of Destruction!]
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intotheelliwoods · 2 years ago
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I just want everyone to know that they asked for this, and I cried twice making it
This is part 1! Part 2 can be found here~
Context, along with more comics can be found on my blog!
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ricksmarlene · 8 months ago
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I am sorry for what they did to you. 
THE ONES WHO LIVE — 1.04 "What We"
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gooeseyleo · 4 months ago
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He would have nightmares about losing his arm. only Dale knew about them.
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68spidey · 1 year ago
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CW BODY HORROR [nothing too extreme tho]
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So fun fact about Mikey.
He's possessed. Or something. He has pure energy running through his veins and he can use it freely, quite literally bursting through his skin. Nothing major, it heals.
There's a point where his theory of "the more damage I'm given = the more power I can summon" was proven right. And there were some people who were about to pay for the shit they had been doing.
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egosweetheart · 1 month ago
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the watching watcher
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skyward-floored · 1 month ago
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Whumptober Day 16 - Swamp, “No, I can’t feel anything.”
It’s another Hyrule-focused fic! Because despite my planning there ended up being a lot of him in a row (or at least close together). oopsie. Hopefully you all don't mind lol.
Warnings: blood, injury, loss of a limb, slightly graphic description of fixing an injury
Ao3 link
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Hyrule didn’t like swamps too much. Messy, boggy, damp and hard to traverse, he didn’t mind going through them on occasion, but they were hard to deal with. Especially if you were fighting a swarm of infected monsters in one.
Which they were, currently.
The ground was soupy and wet under Hyrule’s feet, his boots making disgusting noises as he dodged and fought the beasts. Time and Twilight were somewhere near him, and they all struggled through the slop, twisting away from blows and slicing at beasts.
The swamp wasn’t on their side though, and Hyrule suddenly heard a large squelch. He turned to see Time’s foot sinking into a pit of mud down to his knee and throwing him wildly off-balance. The strange doglike knight he was fighting bared its teeth, and lunged forward, sword held high.
And Hyrule watched as if in slow-motion as the blade went clean through Time’s wrist.
Time’s scream rang out across the swamp, muffled only slightly by the moss, and Hyrule bolted, Twilight in his peripheral running even faster. Miraculously neither of them tripped, and as Twilight threw himself at the monster, Hyrule slid to the ground next to where Time had gotten free of the mud and dropped to his knees, face white as he clutched at the bloody stump at his wrist.
“I can fix this,” Hyrule quickly reassured, snatching Time’s currently-remaining hand in his. “It’s okay, I can fix it. Hold on.”
Oh goddesses I hope I can fix it.
Time took him literally, squeezing Hyrule’s hand in a death-grip, and Hyrule quickly squeezed back.
“Hold him,” Hyrule directed at Twilight, who had already killed the monster and was now fluttering his hands over Time, his eyes wide and terrified. “I can fix it but he needs to hold still.”
“I won’t...” Time gasped, tears of pain slipping down his cheek, “I’ll do my best... w-won’t move, do... do what you need.”
“This will hurt,” Hyrule warned, and Time choked out a laugh.
“It can’t be... be worse than this.”
Hyrule nodded, and before he could think about it too hard, quickly plucked Time’s severed, muddy hand off of the ground. Warriors was at his side in an instant, and snatched some alcohol out of his bag, pouring it on the end of the hand before grabbing Time’s arm and doing the same to it.
Time couldn’t bite back his scream, and Twilight held tightly to his arms, his face white.
“What do you need from me?” Warriors asked, and Hyrule swallowed.
“Help me hold things still. His hand, his wrist, anything. It’ll take me a minute to connect everything and I won’t be able to focus on that and keeping him still.”
“Got it. Ready?” Warriors asked him shortly, and Hyrule nodded, giving Time’s good hand one last squeeze before releasing it and lighting up his hands.
“Ready.”
He held the severed hand, and while Twilight and Warriors held Time still, Hyrule lined up and pushed the two pieces together.
He began pouring magic into the wound, and Time cried out, jerking in Twilight’s hold.
“Hold him,” Hyrule said through gritted teeth, and Twilight and Warriors tightened their grips, Time’s head tossing with wild-eyed pain.
Hyrule focused on the wrist, connecting tendons that had been torn, healing muscle and the pathways of blood, slowly, agonizingly connecting every complicated piece. Time shook and thrashed through all of it, lost in his pain, and Hyrule just kept pushing magic in, healing every line and vessel and torn part he could find.
It was times like these he wished he had a picture of what he was looking at, a diagram of what he was trying to fix. He knew well enough what a wrist looked like, but on the inside? Connecting one to an arm? Not easy.
Especially since he’d never done this before.
Time cried out again as Hyrule set in on the bone, Hyrule briefly thankful that the cut had been so clean. It would make his job even harder if the lines had been at all jagged. Time thrashed even more wildly against the searing pain, and soon enough Sky and Wind both came over to help hold him down as well.
Hyrule distantly noticed Time’s elbow go out and nearly hit Sky in the nose, and the heroes all held him even tighter, faces pale and worried.
“Are you almost done?” Warriors asked, voice strained from keeping Time’s arm straight.
“I think,” Hyrule bit out, too focused to elaborate.
He was starting to feel dizzy, adrenaline and magic drain all sucking him dry, but he couldn’t stop now. He still had a few layers of skin to connect, still had a vein to properly heal, had to make sure the blood was flowing and the muscle—
Time’s leg caught him in the ribs, and Hyrule went flying backwards into the mud, cries of alarm ringing out. Hyrule reeled from the crack of pain in his side and the snap of his spell being interrupted, and someone grabbed his arm, stopping him from landing in the mud.
“Hyrule are you okay?!”
Hyrule shoved past whoever it was and lunged for Time’s bloody wrist, snatching it back as he lit his hands up again. He plunged back in with his magic, ignoring the sear of pain in his ribs and the scream from Time, and shoved in all the magic he had left.
Blue light flashed through the clearing, and Time’s thrashing finally stilled.
Hyrule leaned back, gulping in air as he released Time’s wrist, hands coated in blood. Someone caught his shoulder when he abruptly listed to the side, and he blinked rapidly as his vision swum, looking up at Sky. The older hero gave him a worried look.
“Did... his wrist...” Hyrule slurred, and Sky looked back at where Time lay.
“It’s attached,” he reported, a little nauseous-sounding. “There’s a lot of blood... I can’t see it very well but I think you fixed it, Rulie.”
Hyrule relaxed backwards, relief sweeping over him. He did it.
Sky eased him down, and he winced, ribs aching harshly. It felt like Time’s kick might have cracked a rib. Legend came over with two potions in hand, green and red, and Hyrule took the green one first, relieved at the way the pounding in his head eased and the fuzzy exhaustion in his limbs ebbed a bit as he drank.
He sat up as he finished the green, and chugged half the red all in one go as he stood up, only stumbling a little on the muddy ground. Legend started to say something about resting, but Hyrule ignored it, pressing the bottles into his hands and hurrying back over to where Twilight and Warriors were helping Time sit up.
Time’s face was pale as a ghost, his markings stark against his skin. Blood soaked most of his arm, bits of it splashed on his armor and tunic, and Warriors was wiping the blood away from his wrist as Hyrule approached. Time’s eye shot to Hyrule’s face, his expression guilty.
“Traveler I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay,” Hyrule cut him off, tapping his chest where he’d been kicked. “No harm done. I should’ve expected you’d fight it more. How’s your hand?”
“I was about to ask the same. Let’s see you move it,” Warriors said, done with cleaning. Hyrule could see a pale line across Time’s wrist, barely noticeable, but there anyways. His hand hung limp, but Hyrule wouldn’t expect it to be perfect immediately.
Time closed his eye with a nod, and Hyrule watched his hand intently, waiting for any movement. A few long seconds went by without so much as a twitch, and Time reopened his good eye, looking pained.
“I can’t feel it,” Time said quietly, and Hyrule’s heart sank.
“You’re sure?” Twilight asked nearby, and Time nodded, his face creasing with effort.
His hand didn’t move.
Failure hit Hyrule like a solid weight, his eyes fixed sharply on Time’s limp hand. He couldn’t move it. Hyrule hadn’t been able to fix it. He’d promised he would, it was Time’s sword hand, he wouldn’t be able to fight, do anything two handed, combat would be impossible not to mention any number of other things—
“Traveler, stop,” Time said quietly, exhausted eyes meeting his. “You did all that you could, and I’m grateful for that.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” Hyrule whispered, still staring. “I couldn’t—”
“I’m the one who interrupted your spell,” Time said, resting his good hand over Hyrule’s. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“I said I could fix it,” Hyrule choked out, and Time gave him a gentle look.
“Link, you did all you could. It may just take some time for everything to settle. I’m willing to wait,” he said gently, and Hyrule took his bad hand in his, calling up his magic again. “Hyrule...”
“Just let me try,” Hyrule begged, but Time shook his head.
“You’ve already exhausted yourself today, don’t keep pushing just for me,” he said firmly.
“We can give him a potion, or try for a fairy, see if that does it,” Twilight added, and Hyrule grit his teeth.
“I need to check and make sure I did everything properly and see if I can fix it if there’s a problem, it’ll only take a minute,” he snapped. Warriors and Twilight exchanged looks, pulling back a little at Hyrule’s sharp words, and Time looked at his hand, still reddish and muddy in places.
He sighed.
“Okay. But don’t push yourself,” he said, face still pale, and Hyrule nodded.
He was hiding it well, but Time looked scared, for what might happen if Hyrule couldn’t fix it, if he couldn’t ever properly move his hand again. Hyrule was determined to banish that fear, get rid of the defeated look on Warriors’ face, the tense one on Twilight’s.
He wasn’t giving up. He wouldn’t give up. No matter what.
Time was going to be able to use his hand again.
Hyrule breathed in, stirring his magic up again. Calling on his life spell again after using it so intensely only a few minutes ago made him feel weary all over again, but Hyrule drew it up anyway, making his hands light up as he held Time’s wrist.
He exhaled as he let it sink in, and focused on all of the intricate pieces inside, making sure the bone was healed, the tendons, flesh...
Something struck him as being wrong, and Hyrule frowned, pushing deeper. He didn’t know what it was, but something was off, he could feel it, something that didn’t get connected right, that got snapped when he was kicked away...
Hyrule gently pushed out with his magic, pulling at the disconnected pieces, and guided them together, distantly feeling his hands shake. He was pushing too hard, but he was so close now, he could feel it—
His vision narrowed and he abruptly tilted forward, but several hands grabbed him, yelling words that rattled wildly around in his head. Hyrule dizzily shook his head as his spell faded away, and his vision focused in on Warriors standing in front of him, his mouth moving as he doubtlessly lectured him.
But Hyrule was only focused on one thing.
He twisted around, and saw Time looking down at him, a smile that was a mix of relieved and exasperated on his face.
Hyrule gave him a hopeful look, and Time raised his bad hand, then slowly, stiffly, curled his fingers in.
Hyrule gave him an exhausted grin, and Time gave his shoulder a squeeze with his good hand. He didn’t say anything, but the look on Time’s face was better than any reassurance he could have given.
Hyrule smiled at him one last time, then let himself fall back into his exhaustion, to the sound of several of the others’ exasperated yelling.
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polarized-here · 1 year ago
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It had been a day since the freshly grieving Vegan and BP offered their Headquarters as a sort of shelter for Shooter, Brutux, and Sheriff. Vegan doesn’t remember where the sudden hospitality came from, she just guessed it was from the hope that if they had others along for the ride, she and BP would be less likely to do absurd things. A weak wish on her part now seeing the states each of the three had been in.
Brutux had more or less, had the advantage of his age on his side. He was old enough to have been able to grieve from his mistakes and learn from prior recklessness. He had been the most adjusted in the trio. Compared to Sheriff and Shooter who had been shaking and trembling, wet animals in a downpour almost. He was the second tallest.
Shooter’s lower lip would constantly tremble and his dominant hand would occasionally glide over his barrel gun as a sort of reminder it was there. He would become more frightened and skittish whenever a weapon was held near him, or anything sharp. His eyes would glance at every possible escape the room he was in would have. He would rather run away in a fight, dignity unneeded to Shooter if he survived. Out of the three, he was the tallest, just from how frail and prone to running he had been.
Sheriff on the other hand was the shortest, and most likely the youngest, missing an arm, and based on the lump he had for a right arm it was an uneven cut. But like a parallel to Shooter, he was vicious, practically always ready to strike, and would always hold out his one arm in front of Shooter whenever BP, Vegan herself, or Brutux, strangely enough, got too close to the anxious Shooter.
His face would contort to a false snarl, Vegan swore she saw that look on herself when she was younger, being the only one to take care of BP. So she respected the wishes of Sheriff and stayed away from Shooter.
Until now, when he had come up to her, continuously swallowing in anxiety, asking her if they could’ve spoken in private. On the outside, they fled, away from the noise, with the sky turning into shades of purple and blue. He had asked her not to call him a thief, to never call him that ever again. So she had been curious, it wasn’t in her own right to know, but she felt connected Sheriff in some aspect.
“Why? I won't do it, I see you got your hands full with Shooter, but still, interest is peaked.”
He looks around, spotting no one he clenches tightly onto his left suspender. “My brother wasn’t always a nice person. I loved him so much, embarrassingly so. I’d follow him around everywhere, but he’d never have the patience to deal with me and my constant needs.” He pauses, thinking of something, looking around once more. “He had gotten angry at me whining for food after days of no eating. I had eaten all of my rations at that point, and we’d been shaking from the cold nights, or burning in the hot sun. So he yelled at me, and left. All from me trying to take some of his own rations. We had been in an open field at that moment in time.”
Vegan makes a face and he looks away, letting go of his suspender to grasp at his arm stub. “He told me to stay there, no matter what as he cooled down, somewhere in some shaded area, probably a building, while I stood in the sun, the boiling hot sun.” He makes another face at her clear confusion, “So I did that, I did it for hours, just waiting for him to grab me by the wrist, literally or metaphorically. It was often literal. And so I waited, for hours, and hours. I almost slept, but I had wanted to be awake when he came over. So I didn’t sleep.”
Vegan knows she should say something, and tell him to stop, but he kept going. “He called me a thief, as I sat down on the hot sand of the ground and thought about what I had done. Despite the growls of my stomach, I sat there. That was until a group of zombies found me, sitting alone and tired, and I was going to let it happen, until Ryan shot them down, saving me in the process. But with the gunfire, we had attracted more zombies, and with every zombie killed, two more would show up in its place. We were swarmed. So he had done what any older sibling would’ve done. And he got through as many as he could, keeping me safe. Not caring about the obvious bite marks he had on him at that point. Just as long as I got out safe.”
Vegan feels ill, all Sheriff does is wipe the tears from his eyes and look down as he continues telling the story. “The last thing he was able to conceivably say to my face was ‘thief.’ All other attempts had been futile as he was just one of the unlucky people to have been more at risk for the virus. I had waited before killing him Vegan.”
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He looks back up at her, wiping his tears, “I was wrong then, because he bit me before going down, as some sort of curse or joke from the universe, he had dragged me down with him.”
“Sheriff...” She says softly because she knows where this is going.
“I saw an opportunity and took it when I spotted the axe in the small building we had been staying in. I was far too lucky that day, trying to use your non-dominant hand for cutting stuff never does make the cuts clean and easy. I do realize now though it hadn’t been sharpened in a while. It had been dull, and couldn’t cut or tear into flesh well. And it was an axe, not really a butcher’s preferred choice for cutting.” He smiles a small bit, looking down at the ‘jokes’ he had been making.
Vegan is starting to think he’s deranged, and based on how terrifying that had been, just hearing it from an outsider’s perspective, she doesn’t want to even think about how it was for Sheriff, who had been… nine at that time. He leaves shortly after that, waving his one arm, mentioning the fact always was there for advice or if she herself needed to vent.
She had merely vomited her guts out in some corner of the outside and just hurled, and hurled, even if it was more bile than anything else. Her throat would burn, aching for days after that one interaction. 
Haha so uhh,,, the thought of like- a zombie apocalypse AU has been one that haunts my mind every now and again. So take my thoughts ig??
So. So first up, we've got Sheriff, since in canon he's bitten by a mutant and slowly but surely mutating I kinda went: well I wanna keep that (getting bitten) but obviously I can't have 'em turn into a zombie (since he's a MC & theres no cure). SO! What I came up with is this: He gets bitten on the arm, yes. But since the process of turning into a zombie is slow-ish, He has the time to hide somewhere and do a very shoddy amputation job with an axe. Course it hurts like hell but since his arm is already dying it doesn't hurt *as much* y'know??? It also stops the process of turning so he's all g now (aside loosing an arm.) he may get a prosthetic at some point idk,, maybe thats why he's in debt w/ Brutux in this AU. 
Ryan,, uh well he's dead for good. And to make it worse, Sheriff is the one to put him out of his misery :33
Next up on the chopping block we got Dr. White, since in canon, he's first introduced as a mutant (before getting cured) but lik,, there's no cure in this world. So uh yeah. He's a zombie. And he dies for good also. (His kids totally aren't the ones to kill him. No sir) The guy attempted to create some kinda cure using zombies and one of 'em broke out and bit him. By the next morning he was pretty much turned and forced his kids someone to put him outta his misery.
The main group is just built on distrust and the want for protection. Sheriff and Shooter meet after Shooter breaks into a small-ish town of survivors with intentions of stealing. He gets caught and the townspeople demand he get executed or somethn. Sheriff saves him from that fate and the two run off to god knows where.
They end up seeking shelter from Brutux, and while they both have debts with him he's willing to let them camp out for the night. Su & BP get introduced because they rob Brutux's place of supplies (namely guns and food) Brutux drags the other two along to catch 'em (Because they have debt w/ him and gotta pay it off somehow))
The trio catch the siblings and they offer the HQ as a base of sorts. And since it's a lil more secure than wherever Brutux is hanging out; they agree. 
Idrk what they do after this point so use your imagination.
I think thats all I've got for now,, idk, may expand if it plagues my mind for longer (someone hold me down and restrain me, I should not be allowed to continue making up random AU's. It's an issue.)
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synvelesow · 1 year ago
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fresh cut flower
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shepscapades · 6 months ago
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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [PART 6] [Part 7] [Don’t Let it Reach the Heart]
[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction!]
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intotheelliwoods · 2 years ago
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This is part 2! Part 1 can be found here, and part 3 is here!
Context, and more comics can be found on my blog!
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silkenedstars · 17 days ago
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we’re so back!! can we get a yandere sinclair x reader,,, it can be any identity i love all of him
Additional Notes: Yes you can!! This is unedited though so there's going to be a lot of mistakes in this. Sorry for that :(
TW// Blood, limb loss, yandere (this is all that comes to mind rn, lmk if there's anything else I should add)
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The loss of your arm had surprising results, the main one being that you no longer had the fanatical haze of nagel und hammer clouding your mind.
There was nothing good out of the pain you felt despite what you've been told by your superiors. You supposed you should be thankful nonetheless, as that very pain was what snapped you back into reality. Though, it was still a terrible experience and you wouldn't wish anything like that on your worst enemy.
Another fortune thing about losing your arm — Wings, that statement by itself was painfully ironic — had to be that no one saw what happened. It was your non-dominant hand too so you were extra lucky. Whatever the Index blindly followed must've been smiling down upon you since you were able to pretend like you didn't lose your arm in the first place. All you had to do was grab the part of your armour that fell off, shake it a little so your severed arm would fall out of it too, then reattach the armour back to your torso and voila! It's as if nothing happened!
...But how would you explain one of your arms not moving? Someone would undeniably notice — The One Who Grips, for sure — and demand for you to take your armour off, revealing that you lost it.
Now that wasn't too bad, people who had their limbs severed were praised by everyone about how human they were and if that was all you had to go through, you definitely wouldn't care.
But you wanted your arm back.
You really really wanted your arm back. Without it, you felt like you were missing a part of yourself— and you were, but it wasn't just a physical feeling. Your joint your arm was attached to ached, your mind was begging for you to flex the muscles of your severed limb, and looking at that very limb sparked only fear and pain within your veins. You didn't feel a connection with it anymore.
And between the constant aching and the severe pain you went through when you lost your arm? The aching was far worse. The pain would go away sooner or later, but the aching would forever follow you as there wasn't a way for you to stop it.
That only meant one thing: you were going to get a prosthetic arm. The quality didn't matter, you just wanted your arm back.
With a sigh, you did what you planned to. The only thing left to do now was to find where you'd get a prosthetic replacement while—
"There you are."
A scream almost escaped your lips as you hastily turned around and kicked off your severed arm behind you.
You cursed inwardly when you saw who was behind you.
"Y- You! It's an honour to m- meet you out here!" you clumsily greeted him. The way he was just staring at you with that angry scowl on his face was nothing short of terrifying.
You didn't think he'd kill you, of course not. But if he ever caught onto what happened to you...
...you couldn't let him find out. Ever.
"...you weren't there during attendance," he took a step, his voice surprisingly soft, "I was worried."
And you're worried for your life right now so that evens outs. That said, why was he even talking to you? Aside from exchanging a few words here and there, you never interacted with him.
"Why? You think a few heretics would be able to take me down?" you teased, forcing a grin upon your lips. "I'm not that weak, you know?"
A small sigh left him. "Still…"
"I'm fine," you insisted, "Look at me. Do I look injured to you?"
Sinclair looked you up and down in response, his eyes settling on your non-existent — or, in his eyes, motionless — arm, just as you feared. Maybe you should've responded with something else instead of making it a point that you were unharmed and uninjured. Wings, why were you so dumb?
Oh, wait, maybe you weren't so screwed after all? He hasn't mentioned your arm so far—
"Your arm isn't moving."
...you jinxed it, of course you jinxed it.
Sinclair took a step towards you, then another until he was right in front of you. He took your empty armour in his hand, his fingers uncharacteristically gently rubbing against the metallic back of it. It was as if he was afraid of injuring you further.
"You're injured," he spoke softly, yet his voice slowly grew into a low growl, "those bastards injured you."
"You have it wrong, I'm not injured!" you insisted again, "It's just that my arm is aching because of how much I had to move my heavy weapon around.
"Then move it right now."
You sucked in a breath, feeling both annoyed and anxious. This better work. "Why should I? Your hand feels nice."
Sinclair froze.
"...H- Huh?!"
His face burst into a violent crimson and he quickly let go of your armour. You only caught sight of his flustered expression for a single second before he looked away and hid his face from you.
You let out a sigh of relief before forcing yourself to grin and poke at his cheek. "What's wrong? Why did you let go of my hand? Yours was so nice, you know~ You meanie.."
You felt his cheek warm up further under your touch before he swatted your finger away.
"Stop that," he demanded with a voice akin to a whine. "Don't act like her."
Was that... a pout?
Well, whether it was one or not didn't matter. What really mattered would be his answers to your questions. "Why did you come here anyway? You could've sent a hammer or two if you were worried about me running away, or a Großhammer to check up on me if you were that worried."
"I..." His expression shifted to the scowl that normally resided on his face, his tone an almost concerned one. "...It would simply get in the way of her plans if you ran off and snitched to those heretics."
Asids from the fact that no one would be able to do anything even if you snitched, something felt off about the explanation he told you. But at the same time, it made sense to personally make sure you didn't do anything stupid. He was the lapdog of that unhinged woman, after all.
"I'd do nothing of that sort," you huffed. "Why would you ever think that someone in our ranks would want to betray here?"
All you wanted to do was get a replacement arm to stop the ghost pains then run off somewhere nagel und hammer wouldn't ever be able to find you at.
"I see..."
You swore you saw him let out a sigh of relief.
"Then, come back with me."
No fucking way.
"I can't," you hastily replied, "not now."
His eyebrows furrowed, the look on his face between irritation and confusion. "Why not."
Yikes! That tone of his definitely meant trouble. You should've rejected him gently earlier.
"Becauseee.. I... uhh.. need to make sure that the heretics here are actually dead and not just pretending they are dead," you tried to explain yourself. "It's hard to tell whether these things are alive or not when they don't feel any pain in the first place, right? They only pretend they feel pain!"
He frowned. "I can do that for you."
"No no no I'll do it myself!" you hastily rejected him, "You should head back anyway! Don't you usually spend time with—"
"Don't bring her up."
You flinched.
"...I'm staying to make sure you don't run off," he said, his voice much more gentle this time, "So don't bring her up again. She knows what I'm doing anyway."
Oh, you were so dead.
"...Alright," you reluctantly gave in. "Come with me then."
"Good."
Despite the scowl still on his face, he looked so pleased with himself as he walked past you.
With a sigh, you followed behind him. How were you going to replace your arm now? You could steal a prosthetic from one of those "heretics", sure, but with Sinclair here...
Well, it wasn't like he knew you lost your arm, so you could probably steal a prosthetic when he looked away.
Yeah... that sounded like a plan. You just hoped that it wouldn't go wrong.
— — — — —
"...They're all dead in this part of the town, too," Sinclair declared. "That leaves only one area."
"D- Does it...?" You had been so distracted on making sure he didn't find out about your plan that you forgot to do the steps in your plan. "Can I take a small break around here? My arm is tired from swinging this hammer around so much.."
"Alright," he nodded, "we'll—"
"No no just me!" you interrupted him, "I don't think you need a break too, do you?"
"Why?" he frowned, but strangely enough, it looked more like a pout.
A pout, huh? His flushed cheeks from a prior moment came to mind. What if...
"Because you're strong, aren't you?" you answered, "You could single-handedly kill an entire town of heretics on your own and you wouldn't even be tired, that's how strong you are!"
"...That's right, but I need to watch over you," Sinclair replied, his cheeks a tint of pink.
"Orr you can watch the area around me instead!" You clasped your hands together and looked at him with the best pleading face you could manage, as well as preparing the most cutesy voice you could. "Please? I need someone really strong like you to make sure the area surrounding me is safe! What if one of the heretics that pretended to be dead earlier has been stalking me this entire time and strikes me down while I'm resting? Please! You're the only person I know who'd be strong enough to kill a potential stalker before they get to me..!"
Word by word, his cheeks took on a pinker shade before he looked away, flustered. "Alright, fine."
Why was that so easy??
"But you better stay here, where I can find you," he quickly added, much to your dismay.
"I'll stay here!" You weren't going to. "Thank you! You're my hero!!"
You managed to catch sight of his face turning red before he quickly turned away and walked off to survey the surrounding areas. And once he was far enough away, you quickly made your way into one of the houses and went inside. While you doubted if you'd be able to return with a new arm in time, you were sure you'd be able to distract him from your disappearance if any of his flustered reactions were anything to go by.
The house itself was mostly empty, the blood and gore within it having mostly dried off by now. The presence of the blood itself brought an unpleasant feeling to you, however.
That could be your blood dried on walls in the future.
You kept looking around the house. It was one that you and Sinclair already went through. At first you were worried because he'd recklessly slam down the axe on any corpse he found before you could even get a look at them, but one corpse was lucky enough to have Sinclair's axe go straight for its neck and have the rest of its body remain intact.
A corpse that had the prosthetic arm that you needed.
Hastily, you made your way through the rooms, internally cursing the architect who designed the layout so confusingly before you eventually found the body you were looking for.
"Oh finally..." you breathed out in relief. "I swear I can't even breathe without him watching me..."
But now that you could breathe without him watching, it was time for you to finally, finally get a new arm.
With a bit of struggle but as quickly as you could, you tore off the armour piece where your arm should've been and kneeled by the corpse.
With all the strength you could muster in your tired arm, you brought down your hammer onto the shoulder of the corpse, freeing the prosthetic arm you needed.
The ends of the metal alloy cracked due to the force but thankfully there wasn't enough damage on the prosthetic to cause you any problems. At least, nothing too serious on the surface.
You grabbed the prosthetic arm and looked over it, sighting. "I didn't even think I'd have to figure out how to attach this thing to myself..."
"What. Are. You. Doing."
You froze.
"S- Sinclair! I—"
He stormed towards you, grabbed your hand and squeezed.
"I- I can—"
"You lied to me," he mourned, "You said you weren't injured."
His eyes strayed towards the prosthetic arm that was in your hold, then at the corpse beneath your feet. "Was it the one that hurt you?" His glare harshened. "The one that ripped off your arm?"
...Huh?
You thought he'd lash out at you for sure, that he'd bludgeon you with his axe.
Was this a way out for you?
"...Yeah.." you nodded, your body shivering from the fate you barely avoided. "I couldn't forget it's face when it took my arm, and the pain wouldn't stop. I had to get revenge somehow, but just killing it wasn't enough. Then you showed up..."
The phantom of your arm wouldn't stop aching.
You wanted to go home.
"I see..."
Wordlessly, he raised his axe above his head.
You let the prosthetic arm go and looked away.
A terrible sound echoed in the room.
Then another.
And then another.
The sound of metal smashing against metal repeated relentlessly until slowly, little by little, the only thing you could hear was the axe hitting the ground.
Then it stopped.
You looked up.
"Sinclair...?"
His chest heaved; out of breath.
He looked at you and smiled much like The One Who Grips.
"Let's go back."
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angelpuns · 1 year ago
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CONTENT WARNING FO BLOOD,LIMB LOSS - nothing super explicitly gore, but it is definitely those two things
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baby's first 2AL fanart :3
I actually have spent about a month on this - but haven't been able to work on it lately due to being busy :/ Now that I'm not: here's these guys!!!
Are these the og? Is it Sprout n Poptart? who knows >:3
I actually don't have that much to say about this except that I love 2AL and I'm sorry it took so long to finish this Ell :/
If you somehow don't know about 2AL then you need to check out @intotheelliwoods 's masterpost and spend the remainder of your night reading their comic >:3 I LOVE MYSTIC TIME SHENANGIANS OKAY AND IF YOU LIKE THAT KINDA STUFF YOU'LL LOVE THEIR COMICCC
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cyber-phobia · 2 years ago
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The Shigaraki family.
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None of them are alright.
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whisperingwinters · 8 months ago
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They’re mine :D
It’s not like I’m using the severed ones for anything anyway!
science side of rotomblr how do i protect myself against The Horrors
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