#tw wing injury

[kira-does-art-sometimes]

Heaven Help Us

@whump-queen @whump-in-the-closet @shydragonrider @imnotamurdereripromise @eric-the-bmo

#whump #whump art #my art #artists on tumblr #digital art #illustration #procreate #cel shading #oc art #my ocs <2 #oc lazarus #bloody art #tw blood #tw injuries #tw bruises #tw wing injury #I'm slightly scared to even tag this cuz the art is so bloody #so ah. if you're not a whump person then hello pls move along #the title is from that one mcr song

[areyouawakexd]

Ichor. Tastes disgusting.

In his mouth, splattered across his robes. His wings feel heavy on his back, ripped and torn and misplaced. His knuckles are bruised. She dealt as much damage to him as he did her; he just was better at withstanding.

And now, he was better at living.

Funny thing, godly death. You never really die. Gods aren't even really supposed to bleed. But when you present in a mortal form there comes mortal risks, and death is one of them, if a very small one.

She'll be fine in a couple hundred years. Maybe a couple thousand, if the world's lucky. She'll awake just as good as new. In fact, maybe she will be new! That would be nice.

XD stumbles out of Lady Death's falling-apart paradise, back into the decaying, grayed-out hallways. His head hurts. Hurts like hell. His body aches, and his feet drag, and his wings feel far too heavy. He isn't quite sure.. if he'll make it.

This is fine, he thinks. I did my job. I protected Lani and Drista. I hope they'll forgive me.

Ichor tastes disgusting. For once, it is his own ichor building in his mouth.

HD... XD leans against the frame of the portal back home, his eyes feeling dense. EXE. Someone. I need..

He needs to get out of this realm.

#[event] when death dies who will live on #[story] fables from the end god #tw blood #tw death #tw injury #tw wing injury #[angst] a statue torn apart a slowly dying heart

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Oh, I'm so glad that you two are okay. But why haven't you gone to find Sundrop yet? He needs you badly, Moondrop.

TW// Burns

Bit of a challenge at the moment...

#answered ask #fairy au #dca fairy au #moondrop fairy #lunar fairy #dca fairy au comic #tw burns #wing injury #fnaf daycare au #fnaf dca au #fnaf dca #fnaf lunar #fnaf moondrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #doodles #doodle sketches

[emjiajia]

TW Injury

Sometimes I wonder if this is what's going on behind the scenes of the main chapters after Artem gets injured ;-;

Man's been through more than the average lawyer his age.

#tears of themis #artem wing #tears of themis artem #tot artem #zuo ran #tot fanart #tears of themis fanart #sketch #tw injury #tw bandages

[snadom]

Dragon Injury Reference

[More like speculation than ‘reference,’ but i did research for this. I always recommend doing your own research, too]

WINGS [Specifically webbed/bat wings] - Wings are FULL of blood vessels, and will probably bleed a surprising amount if cut or punctured. These sorts of injuries heal can without much treatment, even if a large amount of the wing membrane is missing - Fractures of the wing should be splinted, and put into a wing wrap/sling - A dragon missing a wing wouldn’t be able to fly again, except with an extremely advanced prosthetic. Lots of small movements. Also having to get used to the weight difference -An aesthetic prosthetic could still be used to combat lopsided-ness, but would be bigger and more unwieldy than other sorts of prosthetics

MISSING LIMBS - A three-legged dragon would be able to walk and run normally, once they get used to the shifted centre of mass and balancing on only three legs - Arthritis IS more common because of the extra pressure on the remaining joints. Would be worse for heavier dragons - Wings could probably be used to balance/support body, if they’re large enough to touch the ground - Missing just the tip of the tail probably wouldn’t affect much, but larger portions WOULD as that’s a lot of body mass to suddenly lose - Tails also help with balance when running and steering when flying, so a dragon might trouble getting used to the difference

HORNS - Horns are have a core of bone covered with a sheath of keratin, and never shed. They are difference from antlers, which are pure bone and do shed. - The tip of a horn is solid keratin, and will not bleed. Could be sanded or filed down for aesthetic purposes, but otherwise not a big concern - Closer to the base WILL bleed, and should be treated accordingly. - Horns will regrow over several months or a year, but closer to the base they may not regrow at all. Deformation upon regrowing is also common

MISC - Some reptiles can get Metabolic Bone Disease [MBD] from lack of sunlight/uvb.  This causes the bones to weaken, which increases the likelihood of fractures and can make the legs/tail/spine crooked, among other things. In WoF specifically, I head-canon Rainwings, Leafwings, and Sandwings are susceptible to this. - Scales over a healed injury may be smaller and irregular. Also takes a little bit for the scales to grow back in the first place - running out of juice for this but. something something infection of whatever organ produces fire/breath weapon. Think that’d be neat.

#wof #wings of fire #dragon #The other day I was rping a dragon with a wing injury and realized I didn't know what that'd look like #so thats what this is about #made with wings of fire in mind but can be used as a general reference #tw injury #tw amputation

[buzzkillchainsaw]

Uncensored version of this and more under the cut!

Albatross // Gill // Arctic

#tw blood #tw gore #tw injury #tw death #wof #wings of fire #prince arctic #gill #albatross #dragon #gore #blood

[raisans-art]

Aggie doodles

A LOT of @evtraininguniversity Conductor’s Gambit Self indulgent edition(and various spinoffs), some lombax twins, @mepomepo fish, and bird :)

Enjoy

#submas #submas au #conductor’s gambit au self indulgent edition #internship au #wing au #tw gun #tw eye horror #tw eye trauma #tw eye injury #tw eyeballs #I’m not taking a single chance

[one-time-i-dreamt]

A raven had come up to me flapping its wings the way a baby bird would, and wouldn't leave my side. I knelt and pet the raven and found a couple of wounds so I helped patch it up and it still stayed beside me when it was healed.

#dream #raven #bird #wings #animal #animal harm tw #injury

[millennium-queen]

“How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn!”

Finally finished my rendition of Alexandre Cabanel’s “The Fallen Angel” with Peeta - I’ve been wanting to do a piece centred around his hijacking and time in the Capitol for a while so I hope I’ve done at least some of my headcannons justice

#peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg peeta #peeta the hunger games #the fallen angel #classical art #my art #tw injury #peeta my beloved #I’m sorry I drew you so banged up!! #it got a little bit away from me #but hey! at least you got cool Jabberjay wings!!! #that’s something at least #tw nudity

[hmshermitcraft]

Xisuma is Grians biological father, Xisuma has witnessed Grian grow up and raised him. When Grian suddenly went missing without a trace after the events of YHS, Xisuma was devastated. More on so, when he heard that the watchers had taken Grian, the void walker inside him grew more and more furious, he swore to destroy any watchers he met. Unbeknownst to him, a young man, reeking of watcher magic, clearly hurt and grounded, wings clipped would be his own son. His wings were not the same as other watchers’, they were far too close to Grians.. that is when Xisuma realized that the hurt ‘watcher’ was his own son, he dragged Grian back to Hermitcraft and was overly protective over Grian. Grian, who has just met a charming person by the name of Scar, is ecstatic, while Xisuma is .. wary..

-🦢

Grian tries not to be hurt by Xisuma's overprotectiveness. He understands why, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't trust him. Despite Scar being a hermit that Xisuma allowed onto the server. So clearly he deems him safe!

He doesn't need him to supervise every single interaction he has with Scar. Grian is allowed to flirt and be interested with people! He feels like he's a teenager having to sneak around like this just to go out on dates.

Scar enjoys the secrecy - it adds a layer of excitement to things! He's also excited to see Grian's wings gradually grow back in, brushing through them and straightening them out. They'll talk to Xisuma eventually. Scar has plans to make a presentation, though Grian isn't sure if that will help or make things worse, he does think it'll be hilarious. And prove Scar is committed to his well-being. Grian thinks that's what's most important for Xisuma. He doesn't have to worry about Grian all on his own anymore.

#hermitshipping #ask #grian tag #xisuma tag #scar tag #scarian #🦢 anon #mod 🎀 #wing injury tw #wing clipping tw

[lunarcrown]

... was it a silly reason skizz got his wing ripped off? I'm just being hopeful here

Y-Yeah……just a silly lil reason!!!!! He definitely wasn’t alone! He definitely DIDNT learn while alone that wither damage blasts work differently on him!!!!!! He definitely didn’t panic by himself and then fix it by himself because he didn’t want to bring anyone down!!!!! And then laugh it off later!!!!! 😭😭

#blood #tw blood #limb loss #I guess? bc a wing is kinda a limb #anyways what a way to find out that wither blasts have a chance of causing an injury that respawn won’t fix!!!!!!! #skizzleman #my art

[seraphic-elysian]

@foolondahill17 have my attempt at the prompt you put about Dean sprinting to Cas. It's not perfect and I ended it without a resolution as I wanna write this as a whole ass fic but I really wanted to share this with you since your idea inspired the hell out of me. ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ It happens in a moment. A heartbeat trapped between the milliseconds of time. Dean turns in the loose grip of his brother’s hands, green eyes trained on the golden crack of light that splits their world open to another, waiting for the sign of his angel. His heart is racing within his chest, adrenaline keeping him sharp and steady, as he waits with bated breath for his angel to emerge through the light. The image of Castiel stalking toward Lucifer as Sam pulls him to the portal is burned into his eyelids. He knows that it is almost a sickening parallel of the way that he had pulled Sam from his burning apartment all of those years ago but he can only pray that Castiel will not be killed. That he will not have to suffer the same agonizing heartbreak that Sam did when Jessica died.  He refuses to entertain the thought of something happening to the angel, of him dying or being hurt while in the other world. That will not happen. 

It cannot. 

Dean steps close enough to the portal that he can hear the rushing of the wind and smell the heavy scent of gunpowder on the breeze. It pulls at his clothing in a tantalizing lure, a promise of taking him to where his angel is, but he refuses. He will not step back through the portal and waste the safety that Castiel had given him. 

Sam’s voice is nothing but a gurgle of noises behind him but he does not need to hear him to understand what he is saying. Dean knows that he is too close to the portal for his brother to feel confident that he will not go through it to find Castiel. He knows that he becomes irrational and impulsive when his angel is in danger. That he has, in the past, openly let others be hurt and killed if it meant that those he cares about will be safe. Dean also knows that he has a history of suicidal tendencies, of throwing himself in front of others to take a hit or killing himself to trade someone else's life for his own, and that Sam has been witness to him doing that several times. And while he is aware that he would not hesitate to end his life if it meant that the angel would return safe and alive, he does not feel the need to do so. Not right now. 

“Don’t be stupid, Dean! Cas is capable!” Sam nearly screams the words to him, voice only barely heard over the rushing noise in Dean’s ears. 

And of course he is. Dean knows better than anyone what Castiel is capable of and how strong and intelligent the angel is. But even having the knowledge of that will not stop him from worrying about him. It will not stop him from desperately trying to keep the angel by his side where Dean is able to keep him safe. 

After all, how can anyone act normal and as though the world is not on the verge of ending when the living personification of their heart is facing off against an archangel?

The portal flares a brilliant gold that burns his eyes and Dean’s breath leaves his lungs in a shaky exhale as Castiel appears in front of him. There is blood stained along his trench coat, his black curls are covered in dust, and his face is streaked with dirt but Dean has never seen anything more beautiful. Exhausted blue eyes meet his own and something that Castiel sees on his face makes the angel’s brows furrow and him to step closer to Dean. They are close enough that he can feel heat radiating off of the angel and the exhalation of his breath ghosting across his face and, for the first time, Dean does not step back or snap at the angel. No, he only sways forward as he is captured by Castiel’s orbit. He surrenders to the feelings that he has in his chest, this desire to put himself out there and show the other how he feels. 

“D-” 

Castiel cuts himself off as an angel blade pierces through the bottom of his chest with a sickening squelch. The shining metal is clean as it slides through the angel’s body without resistance before it is yanked out violently. Crimson stains his white dress shirt and Castiel’s grace flares brightly through the gaping wound. Dean is moving before he can think, arms gathering the angel against his chest as he sags, and pressing his hand against the bleeding wound on his back. He does not see where Lucifer goes as the angel saunters off but he knows that Sam will watch his back. Something heavy and soft curls over his arms and back, engulfing him in the scent of honeysuckles and wildflowers, but when he looks there is nothing there. The smell of Castiel’s grace slowly begins to turn acrid as his grace begins to burn and Dean collapses to his knees. 

“Get away,” Castiel whines, weak hands pushing against Dean’s chest, “I can’t hold it back anymore. Get away!” 

Dean shakes his head and tightens his grip on the angel, “No!” 

A whine escapes Castiel’s throat as the light flares up brighter and hotter, escaping from his mouth and eyes. The invisible objects that he feels against him heat up rapidly, searing his skin even through his clothing, and the heat and light reaches its apex in a wave of agony before it shatters. A pained howl leaves his lips as fire scorches him, consuming him in a decimating blaze that he cannot escape. His eyes burn even through his closed lids and he turns his face away from the sharp explosion of light. It seems as though it takes forever before it clears, taking the scorching heat with it, and Dean weakly lays Castiel’s body down. He presses his forehead down against the soft cotton of his dress shirt as he processes the hell that he just went through. 

Castiel is dead. There is no denying that, not after what he just experienced. The angel is gone in a shattering of holy light and the smell of scorched feathers. His shaking fingers come up and tangle in the rough wool of the trench coat as he raises his face, desperate to see confirmation that Lucifer has murdered Castiel. He needs to memorize the pattern of his beautiful wings that will be burned into the dirt of this little home. Sliding his eyes open slowly, he sees…nothing. An unending wall of bright white light fills his vision and does not leave no matter how much he blinks or shakes his head. He panics, sucking in a startled breath, body freezing in fear at the implications of what this means. 

Turning his head toward where he remembers his brother standing, he asks, “Sam?” 

“What the hell were you thinking, Dean!” Sam’s voice is rough with anger as he stomps up to where Dean is kneeling, “You know what happens when an angel dies. You’ve fucking seen that happen so many times! So, what the hell were you thinking being right at the center of that? Didn’t you think for a second about what that would do to you?” 

“It’s Cas, Sammy,” his excuse sounds broken as it falls through his lips. He is in agony, arms and back still burning from the blaze that had licked across his skin, “I couldn’t just-” 

“How many times has he died before and you’ve stayed back from it? How many times has he been killed like this and you’ve not put yourself at the center of his grace exploding?” Sam is yelling now, anger making him sound almost terrifyingly like John, and Dean feels far too vulnerable here on the ground, “I don’t even know how we’re going to heal that. Or if we even can. Fuck, Dean, we didn’t need this on top of everything else!”

He takes Sam’s anger without question or complaint. He knows that he messed up and that he injured himself right when they are about to be dealing with Lucifer. He knows that his vision being gone, however temporary this is, will make him a vulnerability and a liability. It is now completely up to Sam to be able to defend not only himself but Dean as well. 

“I should be able to see again in a few days,” he responds once Sam pauses to take a breath, “We just have to lay low inside of the Bunker until then. I know I messed up, Sammy, okay?”

“You can’t see?” Sam is suddenly in his space, calloused hand gripping his chin tightly, and Dean stifles a flinch. His head is tilted back and forth and he feels his brother messing with his eyelids. It is incredibly uncomfortable to not be able to see what Sam is doing but he knows that he is in safe hands, “Is it just blurry or is it fully gone?” 

“I can’t see anything,” he admits as Sam wipes something off of his cheek, “it’s nothing but white.” 

Sam sucks in a startled breath, hands stilling against his face, before he moves and cleans off his other cheek. “Okay, I…I didn’t realize that you were blind.” 

“Then what were you talking about?” 

Sam does not answer right away and Dean huffs in frustration. He hates not being able to see his brother’s face and be able to read him. He has always relied on the fact that Sam is an open book to him, that he rarely hides what he is thinking and feeling, and now having that taken away from him makes him feel as though he is lost at sea without a life raft. 

The trench coat is warm within the grasp of his fingers but he forces himself to release it, to smooth it back into place despite the shake in his hands. His palm presses against the flat expanse of Castiel’s chest and something inside of him burns at the fact that he cannot feel his heart beating or the rise and fall of his chest. That he can feel the heat dissipating from his body, leaving it cold and empty. There is something within the cavern of his chest that feels just as hollow as the body in front of him, something along his soul that screams at the idea of Castiel being gone, but he can do nothing about that. There is no cure or bandage that can heal a broken heart. 

A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches away from it violently, “What the fuck, Sam?” 

“You know how angel wings are burned into the ground when they die?” Sam asks gently, continuing when Dean nods in confusion, “Dean…Cas’s wings aren’t…they…they’re burned into your skin, dude. From the back of your hands, up your arms, and across your back to either side of your spine.”

“But I’m wearing clothes,” Dean argues weakly, “How could they have burned through that?” 

His brother exhales shakily, “Couldn’t his wings phase through things like that?” 

The fingers of his right hand skirt over to his left, drifting across the back of it, and a pained noise leaves his lips as his skin flares up in red hot pain at the touch. He shakes his head, refusing to accept what Sam is telling him. There is no way that he is carrying the shadow-burn of his angel’s wings on his body. He is not holy enough, not good enough, to carry the image of that burned onto his skin.

Castiel deserves to have something more than Dean Winchester acting as a living tombstone.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Sam's hands grip his elbows and pulls him to his feet, "Once we do that, we can get Cas and Kelly ready to be put to rest."

Dean grabs onto his brother tightly, resisting the guiding hand that is pulling him toward the house. He does not want to leave Castiel lying here, alone, on the dirt. There will need to be a pyre and Castiel's body will need to be prepped for that but he does not think he has the strength to leave him. Not anymore.

"I can't," His voice catches in his throat, "Sam, I can't leave him."

He can see the furrow of Sam's brow in his mind as his brother responds, "Why not?"

"I love him," it falls from his lips like water, easy and free-flowing, "I love him so much I don't know how the hell I'm able to breathe. I can't just..."

"Okay, yeah, I get it," Sam answers, "How long have you...?"

Dean tries to smile but it pulls at his face wrong, lips twisting into more of a grimace. He turns his face toward the ground and welcomes the white void that consumes his vision. It is much easier to be able to be this open with his brother when he is unable to see his facial expressions.

"Years," he exhales heavily, the word nothing more than a whisper on the breeze.

Sam does not answer him but he does help Dean back onto the ground by his angel's body. His hands are warm as they squeeze his elbows once before removing them.

"Let me go get the stuff to prepare his body, okay? You can do it here and I'll handle Kelly."

"What about Jack?"

Sam huffs, "I have no idea what we're going to do."

"We raise him. We give him the childhood we didn't have. He chose Cas as his father and I'm not going to abandon his child just because his sperm donor is Satan himself." Dean tells him, "We educate him, we tell him about the spooky shit and about the stuff that lurks in the dark. We make sure that he's able to handle himself if he ever winds up on a hunt."

"And we tell him about Cas."

He nods, hand reaching out until it lands on Castiel's arm, "Yeah, we tell him about Cas."

Sam leaves him then, footsteps trailing off toward the house. Dean is left in the dirt, surrounded by the sound of waves lapping at the shore of the lake and insects buzzing around him. It feels wrong, to experience this peaceful moment while he kneels at the side of his fallen person. Castiel should be here. He should be the one that teaches Jack about humanity and the world around them. He should be the one to choose what, if any, of the hunting world that Jack learns. He should teach him about bees and flowers and the names of the constellations in the sky.

He should be here, raising the child that he loves, instead of it falling to Dean.

But he is not. He is dead, killed because he ensured that everyone got to safety. And now it is up to Dean to raise Jack.

He spends the next hour gently cleaning Castiel's body with the warm water and cloths that Sam brought him. The dirt and blood is washed from his skin as best that Dean can while his vision is gone before Sam helps him wrap and secure his body in a soft fabric.

Together, they lift his body between them and Sam guides him to the pyre, leaving him to lay Castiel down inside of it alone. The angel is heavy in his arms and makes his wounds radiate agony as they are agitated but he does not care. There will be time for him to heal, for his wounds to be cleaned and bandaged. But not right now. Not when he is resting the love of his life inside of a tomb made of wood, waiting for him to be set ablaze.

The fire is hot on his face as he stares unseeingly in the direction of it. Jack and Sam are on the other side of the pyre, talking quietly to each other, and Dean wishes that he had the strength to go join them. To find comfort in knowing that they are mourning for the angel together. He could go to them, he knows that, but if he moves from this spot he is not sure that he will be able to keep himself from shattering. The reality of Castiel being gone has not fully hit yet and he knows that the moment the fire burns down, the moment that the only thing left of Castiel is the feathers burned into Dean's skin and the ashes on the wind, that he will he consumed by grief. That the only thing he will be able to feel is the hollow void in his chest that signifies that his angel is gone.

"Can I stay here with you?"

Dean flinches at the soft voice that speaks, turning his head in Jack's direction. He does not respond to him, too afraid that he will say something he does not mean or begin to cry if he does, so he nods his agreement. The kid steps closer to him and his hand slips into Dean's. He takes in a deep breath and squeezes that hand gently, leaving them clasped at his side.

"He loved you," Dean tells him hours later when the fire has died down to almost nothing. Sam had stepped away to handle something some time ago so it is only the two of them left by the angel's side, "You should have your parents here to raise you. You shouldn't have to grow up without them."

Jack is silent for a moment before he speaks, "I have you."

"Yeah, kid, you do."

"He loved you, too," Jack tells him, as though those words do not sends spiderweb cracks along the wall holding his emotions back.

He stays quiet, unable to respond even if he desired to, and they stand there together until Jack tells him that the fire is gone.

Today he will kneel in the ashes of his lover's pyre, gathering the remains of him with clumsy hands, as their child holds the glass jar steady for him to put the ashes in. He will seal up that jar and cling to it for the several hour long drive it will take for them to reach the Bunker.

And, when he is led to his room by his brother, letting him sit the jar down upon his nightstand, Dean will finally allow himself to break.

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #fanfic #spn #ficlet #sam winchester #jack kline #angst #major character death #major character injury #tw blood #Castiel's Wings #shitty writing #I really need more than three hours of sleep #I wrote this after having an urge to go fist fight god #though I'm ready to fist fight tumblr too since it keeps messing with my posts

[vivianquill]

Jimmy hoisted himself onto the edge of the pool, keeping half an eye on the fiery mer laying where Jimmy had left him. Martyn was still laying an arms-reach away from the edge of the water, soaking wet and chest heaving.

Jimmy was just thankful that he was still breathing.

With what the other mer had been yelling about, Jimmy was all too aware just how close Martyn had come to being murdered right in front of him.

He felt guilty for not pushing harder to come back out here alone. If the other mer hadn't seen Scott or Martyn until after Jimmy had made friends with him, then this probably wouldn't have happened.

"Martyn. . . ?" Jimmy questioned, reaching out with a dripping hand to nudge his leg, "Are you-- are you gonna be okay?"

It took a moment, but Martyn pushed himself up to a sitting position, letting out another stream of coughs, "Yeah-- yeah. I'll be okay."

Jimmy glanced back down at the red mer at the bottom of the pool. He still hadn't moved, beyond his fins twitching every now and again. Jimmy knew that the sedatives Martyn had used were strong, but--

He just wished that none of this would have happened this way.

"You-- uhm. I don't think that you getting in the water was a very smart idea. . ."

"In hindsight? Yeah." Martyn took a deep breath, suppressing a cough, "That was probably the dumbest thing i could've done."

Scott walked out of the house a moment later with a small stack of towels, and their first aid kit. He set them down on one of the pool chairs nearby the door, before walking over to help Martyn to his feet and over.

Jimmy just watched from the edge of the pool as Scott sat Martyn down, draping a towel around his shoulders.

"Jimmy, did he manage to bite you too?" Scott called, turning to look over at him.

"No." Jimmy shook his head, "He didn't get me. He tried, though."

"Alright. Good." Scott gave a little nod of his head, before turning back to his own bites.

The mer had given Scott quite the thrashing, it looked like. Jimmy had still been able to taste the blood in the water, before he'd come up to check on Martyn.

But they looked like they were fine. And Jimmy didn't like the thought of what might happen if they left their guest alone again.

Jimmy hadn't been able to figure out everything that the mer had been chattering about, but from what he knew about his own kind, and how the mer had reacted to Martyn and Scott, and the bits and pieces Jimmy picked up-- well. Let's just say that it didn't seem pretty. He'd been chirruping a child's call, mostly. One that Jimmy himself had yelled himself hoarse with, when he'd been freshly stolen.

Jimmy might've been taken from his pod young, but it seemed like the opposite had happened to this mer. Maybe. He obviously had a different pod now, because of what he'd said about not telling the humans at the marine rescue about them. And it wasn't uncommon for mer to change pods without anything bad happening.

But--

It didn't feel right to leave him alone.

Not now, not after what had just happened. Not after Jimmy could see just how quickly things had spiraled out of control.

Jimmy could understand. The other mer had not only been hurt in that nasty storm, but he'd also been stolen by humans and from what Martyn said, he'd been stuck in a tiny little shallow pool barely big enough to stretch out in! And then, once he'd gotten attached to those humans, Jimmy's pod had come in and took them and the mer had thought they'd killed someone.

It was an overreaction, what the mer had done, but it was an understandable one. Jimmy would probably have done the same, if their positions were switched.

Jimmy slipped back into the water. Right now the best thing he could do was make sure the mer was okay too, because he didn't have anyone looking out for him and also Jimmy sort of wanted to make sure that the splint hadn't come loose. From what Jimmy had seen, the cuts in the other mer's fins hadn't impacted his ability to swim. at least, not in this size of a pool. Lizzie would be able to tell better, once she got here.

Jimmy spread his sails as he got close, drifting above the mer, "Hey, uhm. . ."

Gosh he didn't want to just manhandle the mer to check on the splint but he didn't know how to ask.

The mer flinched, curling into himself as he glanced up at Jimmy. It was almost fascinating, how quickly his mood could change-- where before he was all puffed up and posturing, now he was doing the exact opposite.

Then again, he was sorta drugged right now.

Jimmy suppressed a shudder of regret, settling himself on the tiles next to the mer, "I just wanted-- can I touch you? I need to check the splint."

To Jimmy's surprise, the mer shifted closer, holding out his injured hand to Jimmy. Which, after a quick check to make sure everything was still in place, Jimmy let go of. But when he went to scoot back, to give the mer a bit of space, it was answered by a soft whine.

It wasn't really words? The closest thing it meant was "don't go." So Jimmy moved back, surprised to have the mer press his tail gently against Jimmy's.

Oh, poor thing. He was probably so touch starved, Jimmy knew firsthand how important physical contact was to mer.

"Oh, c'mere. . ." Jimmy warbled, pulling the mer against him in a hug and draping his tail over the other mer's. It wasn't a surprise to him when the other mer reciprocated, tucking his head against Jimmy's chest and curling his tail around Jimmy's.

Surely this would help calm him down. Whenever Jimmy got too stressed, he always felt better after some cuddles.

It didn't take long for the mer to fall asleep on Jimmy, but that was probably more from the sedatives than Jimmy himself.

It wasn't until Jimmy was running his hand through the sleeping mer's hair that he realized he hadn't told Martyn or Scott that he was gonna spend some time down here with their guest. Oh well. If they really wanted to know, Scott would come down to talk to him.

Looking down at the mer, Jimmy also realized that they still didn't know his name. Maybe he'd be able to get it from the mer when he woke up.

#team rancher #team rancher au #tangotek #jimmy solidarity #martyn itlw #scott smajor #dont mind me #viviwrites #emberfish au #tw sedatives #tw injury #two scraplets in one day? sure you better believe it. XD #also yeah jimmy has a pair of 'sail fins' on his back to mimic wings #cause the boi gotta have wings #fun fact: grian and pearl are also mer in this au and they have fin-wings too #I have designs in my head for most of the mer #tango jimmy scott grian etho and bdubs all have set designs in my brain #not doc or pearl or scar tho not yet anyway #i just draw like shit and have no patience to do the arts. #i have an unfinished sketch of Tango tho. i might finish it one day who knows #probably not tho lol the drawing bug is vv rare with me. #but hey if yall want me to horribly sketch them i might be able to

[emjiajia]

It was fun to do the expressions 😎✨✨

#tears of themis #artem wing #tears of themis artem #tot artem #zuo ran #tot fanart #tears of themis fanart #tot zuo ran #my art #tw injury

[steddieunderdogfics]

For theme week: Empty Space by Paryton is a FANTASTIC post s3/s4 rewrite with some wild monster stuff!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47126230

Empty Space by Paryton

Rating: Mature

293,928 words, 24/24 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, sorta - Freeform, Monster Steve Harrington, Fix-It of Sorts, pre-season 4/season 4, Mechanic Eddie Munson, Wingfic, Body Horror, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, eddie adopts the party, Eddie Munson-centric, this might constitute a slowburn but only because steve takes his sweet time getting here, Period Typical Bigotry, Blood and Injury, the claws are sharp but the boys are soft

Summary:

Eddie is walking around in a dead man’s shoes. - In the aftermath of the Starcourt mall fire, Hawkins mourns their dead (Steve Harrington among them), the town’s unsung heroes grapple with grief, and Eddie Munson gears up for his final (fingers-crossed) year of high school and stubbornly tries not to get attached to the party of sad freshmen trailing behind him, bleeding heart be damned.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #canon divergent #tw graphic violence #hurt/comfort #monster steve harrington #wing fic #temporary character death #mechanic eddie munson #rated m #blood and injury #grief

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1228

Anon asked:

May I request situational prompts on a hyper-specific situation: Whumpee damages one of their wings beyond repair in a battle. In this universe, characters have both a human form and a humanoid-looking magical form, where their wings are technically the equivalent of the human ribcage. Ridden with shame and anxiety, Whumpee needs to hide their unusable, mangled wing from everyone by staying in their human form at all times, but can't adjust to the pain in their ribs. Please make them suffer!

Sure thing!

So the first thing that comes to mind is that they probably cannot sleep. No matter the position they're in, they toss and turn all night long, only able to get no more than a few hours a night.

Their chest/back hurts. Constantly. Sometimes its even hard to breathe.

And always being in pain has cost them many friendships/relationships as they're more irritable than normal - they shy away from intimacy: whether it be a pat on the back or even a hug.

People do notice that the whumpee isn't showing their natural form, but just assume they prefer it that way.

But the act of keeping up their human form gives them some kind of 'sickness' - including full body aches/fever and other uncomfortable side effects.

Maybe they're ridiculed for using their human form. I have a few ideas for the 'big reveal'

As a sick prank, maybe they're drugged with something that makes them drop/unable to keep up their human form.

Maybe they become so sick/are in so much pain that they collapse and drop their human form.

Maybe the just break down, and let it all go.

Maybe they're incredibly angry/upset, and show everyone out of spite just to get caretakers/bullies off their back.

Either way, after the big reveal they try to run, but they don't get far. It's at this point everyone tries to find them - to apologise and get the whumpee help.

#whump #prompts #writing #angst #injury #hiding an injury #wing #broken wings #wing whump #magic whump #tw: drugging #physical whump #emotional whump