Augusnippets Day 4 - Tumblr Posts

Augusnippets Day 4: Amputation

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: Hunter knew standing close to Separatist tanks was dangerous. He didn't expect the one he was next to to blow up and he definitely didn't expect the damage to take his arm.

    Hunter knew he shouldn't have been so close to the Separatist tank. While he wasn't sure what had happened after he heard the tank explode, he knew passed out.

    One of his few memories involved a medic taking. "Put a tunicate on his arm, he's going to lose the limb anyway. If it gets much worse, we're going to have to do a field amputation."

    The clone remembered thinking, "did he just say 'field amputation'?" Trying to argue, Hunter tried to sit up. He found he couldn't move. Then the world went black.

    When he woke up, he was in a medical bay. Wrecker sat beside him on a chair. Tech was in the chair in the corner and Crosshair was sitting at the foot of the bed. They were talking about some memories from their cadet years.

    As Hunter stirred, he startled Crosshair. "Hunter."

"Yeah" he said quietly.

"Hey! We thought we were going to lose ya!" Wrecked yelled. He stood up and went to hug his brother.

Reacting to the situation, Tech also stood up. "Hugging Hunter is not in his best interest. He is still healing."

"Aww okay." Wrecker pouted. Then he sat back in his seat.

"What happened?" Hunter asked.

"You were injured by shrapnel." Tech began. "The medics brought you to the service location they could find. While there, they made the decision to amputate your left arm at your shoulder."

That couldn't be right. "What?"

"Your left arm has been amp-"

"I think he knows Tech." Crosshair cut his brother off.

"Are you okay?"

Hunter's arm was gone. Moving the blanket, the clone looked at where his arm should be. After a moment, he put the blanket back and just stared at his brothers.

"Are you okay." Wrecker repeated.

"I don't know."

"Losing a body part is a startling process. From the initial trauma to learning to cope with the loss of the amputated limb, it can take a while to fully heal. However, they should be able to fit you with a prosthetic." Tech walked over to Hunter as he talked.

"Something tells me this is not what he wants to hear." Wrecker spoke. He looked at Hunter, "do you want some alone time?"

"Yeah." Hunter didn't look at them. Instead he kept looking at the ceiling.

"We'll be nearby if you need anything." Wrecked touched the end of the bed as he spoke. Then Tech, Crosshair, and him left the room.

Trying to process what had happened to him, Hunter continued to stare at the ceiling. He knows Tech knows what will happen next but he's not sure if he wants to know. Prosthetics had advanced significantly over the years but they could never truly replace a flesh limb.

The amputation was to save his life, Hunter knew this. Still, he wondered why it had to happen. Why did he have to be so close to the tank that exploded? Why did the shrapnel land where it did? Whatever this cruel twist and fate had been, Hunter knew he had to live with it. After all, he had no choice.

@augusnippets day 4

Amputation / Degloving / Vivisection

Noncon surgery (not described), restraints, past death mention

Whumpee squirmed against the metal cuffs locking them to the table, fastened around their wrists, ankles, throat, and hips.

The lights above shined blindingly as whumpee laid, listening to Whumper hum and prepare his tools.

A repetitive 'shink, shink, shink' echoed through the basement— Whumper was sharpening his knives. Whumpee whimpered, pulling at the metal again– no use.

Suddenly, the table moved. It tilted until whumpee was nearly in a standing position, a few inches off the floor. The metal dug into their wrists, making them wince.

"Alright, 004. It's time to begin your surgery." Whumper was in his white labcoat and black gloves, looking eager as ever. "Let's get you marked up, yes?"

Whumper held a black marker and approached Whumpee, starting between their pecs and drawing a dotted line down to their belly button. Then, he started at the top again and drew two diagonals, pointing out towards their shoulders.

Whumpee looked up at Whumper, panicked. "Is this where you're cutting?!" they cried, tensing up.

"Yes, yes. Just a quick vivisection, dear." Whumper pulled over a few machines and monitors, hooking Whumpee up to them. "Going to see if I can keep a subject alive all the way through."

Whumpee promptly started screaming for help, thrashing desperately.

"Good, good, get that out of your system. I'll try to keep you from dying of shock, okay? I'm administering a small dose of sedative— just enough to keep you relaxed. Don't fall asleep, though. Got it?"

Whumpee pressed themself into the wall, eyes wide. "No! No, no! Stop, you're not gonna—"

"Do I need to remove your vocal cords while I'm poking around in there? You don't even have a reason to be screaming yet." Whumper cleared his throat, pressing a button on a camera that faced Whumpee. The little red dot lit up, and Whumper talked into it.

"Today is August 4th, 20XX. We'll be attempting an exploratory vivisection on subject 004. Goals are to diagnose any internal issues, and to see if we can keep this one alive." Whumper turned to Whumpee, raising his scalpel with a grin.

"Fourth time's a charm."

@augusnippets just realized i forgot to tag this, my bad >,<

Moth and Taxidermist

Augusnippets day 4: amputation | degloving | vivisection

Word count: 497

Trigger warnings: violence, injury (exposed bone, collapsed lung), blood, implied/referenced vivisection

——————(0)——————

Karmic fights, he swears. The moment he’s certain that the hostages have been freed, those viscera-stinking shadows slinking back to—to his father, he attacks. This man hasn’t seen him since he was small; he has no idea how quick Karmic is, how sharp his claws are. If he can strike first, fast, then—

At the same time his hand swipes a chunk out of the side of his father’s face and neck, there’s a familiar pain piercing his chest.

His father had demonstrated what his bloodmist could do to someone if they breathed it in, during the ‘negotiations’ that led to Karmic going with him. It felt like Brier had punched him in the solar plexus, any breath-based magic immediately beyond him as he wheezed for breath, except it went on and on until a negligent wave of his father’s hand let him breathe fully again. It had not been a fucking pleasure, to say the least.

It is still not a fucking pleasure.

He stumbles, and that’s his undoing. One moment, he’s looking at the pale mandible his claws exposed; the next, pure black floods his vision as shadows knock him flat on his back, punching whatever air he has left out of him. He tries jackknifing back up, but can’t—the shadows have stayed, keeping him pinned down.

The swears that pour out of his mouth come loud and vehement, courtesy of his father as he heals Karmic’s lungs.

There’s a sigh as his father walks into view. Shadows are vanishing from his cheek, leaving him unblemished. “It’s the brain you have to worry about, little one,” he says.

“Fuck the shit off,” Karmic spits.

“Our brains are our only fatal weakness,” his father continues, ignoring him. “Everything else is restorable, but if we lose the organ that knows how to restore things, that means our death. Make sure to adjust your defensive combat to account for this, yes?”

“Oh, so that means your ears are full of shit, too! Makes sense, since you’re not fucking listening!”

“We’re not worrying about brains today, though,” his father says, still going on. His hand goes up, pointer finger aimed at Karmic, eyes narrowing. “We’re worrying about that crutch in your chest.”

Karmic has enough time to register his father’s finger turning black before it blurs, and there’s a ripping sound. Too late he realizes that his clothes have been sliced open larynx to navel; too late the words ‘crutch in his chest’ click together with why his torso is free of shadows;

too late he knows what his father is about to do to him.

"No," he says.

“Yes,” his father counters, kneeling gracefully. “Your heart is what killed you last time. I was happy to supply my own, but you should’ve learned how to replace it ages ago. We’re fixing that now.”

He smiles. It’s a lovely, loving, terrifying smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

The first guiding cut slides over Karmic’s sternum.