#and YES i KNOW. i torment my characters

[ask-lu-two-and-mew]

hey Mewtwo, where are all your scars from? and have you thought about healing any of them?

Hm... If I'm remembering correctly...

The burn on my tail is from a fight I had with a wild Armarouge. A particularly feisty one, at that.

The one on my snout is from a Honchkrow - apparently, I happened to get too close to its nest, and it took me by surprise.

The oddly-shaped one in the center of my tail is from a Mawile and its trainer. Those jaws are NOT something to mess around with.

The circle-shaped hole in my right ear is from a Cacturne’s Bullet Seed. I have to admit, that Pokémon’s trainer was pretty determined to catch me.

The rip in my left ear is from a Dynamaxed Corvinknight I happened to encounter in one of those weird dens in Galar. Pretty ironic how something as big as that left such a small impact.

The X-shaped one on my cheek is from a Scyther that attacked me completely unprovoked. It was probably pretty young... it seemed to be deliberately looking for a fight in an attempt to get stronger.

The burn on my side is from a powerful Charizard. Its trainer was stronger than any trainer I'd encountered before. I was almost caught in that battle, actually. Thankfully, it seemed like they only had regular Poké Balls on hand.

The smallest one on my tail - the one near my back - that one's from a Diglett that just so happened to know Shadow Claw. I have zero idea how it knew that move - or how it even scratched me. I mean, seriously. Why has NOBODY ever seen a Diglett's full body before?!

...Uh. Anyways.

(CW: flashing images and verbal/visual depictions of blood, injury, and malnourishment under the cut)

As for the one on my eye...

[Mewtwo seems to hesitate while speaking, his expression growing darker.]

...I'd rather not talk about that one.

And yes, I can heal my own scars. But I like to keep them. They're... reminders, I guess. Reminders of what I've accomplished. How far I've come.

...Although...

[He puts his hand over his chest, right on the strange bump in the center. His breathing is shaky, and he seems quite tense.]

...I've only ever healed one scar. One I was certain I didn't want to keep.

[potatobugz]

its like this, basically

[slime-crafters]

Gonna be real, I think Link deserves to have a panic attack. Just a full-blown mental deteriorating, absolute heart-wrenching scene of him absolutely losing his shit. I'm just thinking like... Imagine Link learning about what happened to Zelda in TotK and his response being something like falling to his knees, something to show that he can't Take It anymore

I want this twink to absolutely crumple.

[tyrannuspitch]

is no-one around here having ANY fun

[bluejaybytes]

show us your oc lore!!

I'm so sorry but it's exclusively my Splatoon OCs

I'm not at ALL confident in how legible this is, but this is my Web Of Lesbianism(tm), AKA how (almost) all of my lesbian sploon OCs connect to each other, excluding a few who only connect in small places and/or I don't feel like making icons for. Sorry to Scarlet, who absolutely warrants a place here, but I simply Do Not Want to make an icon for </3

Lore under the readmore because I get extremely rambly. whoops and apologies and this is probably the only time i'll ever let myself get THIS infodump-y in a Tumblr post. I'm writing this after I wrote it all out and I'm so fucking sorry it's literally over 2k words because I have no ability to stop once I've started and I've been outright POSSESSED by these losers for the past month. Here's basically everything about my Splatoon OCs

FOR NAMES. Top right is Basil (Blue tentacles), middle right is Penny (Her name is just written because I haven't drawn her yet), bottom right is June (Pink tentacles), bottom middle is Jake (Blue tentacles), bottom left is Parker (Purple tentacles, also the sanitized icon), middle left is Ruby (Orange tentacles), and top left is May (Pink tentacles)

Everything starts when May, Jake, and Ruby are all around ~16-17, while June, May's little sister, is around ~9. May is VERY into Jake, and Jake's just generally a big flirt and a huge romantic, though it's unsure if he really realizes May's extremely obvious crush on him (He doesn't), or he reciprocates, which is unfortunate, because Ruby, who's May's childhood best friend, is also very into her, but May doesn't realize this. When [UNDECIDED EVENT] happens and May and Jake both come to the realization they need to head to the surface to escape the oppressive Octarian domes, Ruby being with them is very clearly an afterthought, and she knows it. So, her jealousy over Jake being someone May has known for less time yet clearly loves more than her, and the fact that trying to escape being very, very illegal, she turns them both in.

Jake manages to call May before he's caught to warn her that Ruby turned them in and the cops will already be heading to her parents house, which gives May enough time to run home, grab June, and make a run for it. Both May and Jake manage to outrun the cops, with May and June ending up far into the outskirts of the domes, while Jake only gets further and deeper within them.

Around a month or two after their initial escape, May's spotted by a patrol of soldiers stationed right around the way to the surface, with the soldier who spots her specifically being Scarlet, the oldest sister to Ruby (Who's not featured here because I don't want to make her icon), who remembers May from when she was a kid and, alongside that, has been feeling disillusioned with life as a soldier, despite her high ranking, and decides not only to let May go, but to even share rations with her. This only increases as Scarlet realizes May is the runaway who's known to have a young child with her, and it goes from Scarlet sparing her own rations to stealing rations from the squad she leads to make sure both May and June are able to eat properly.

Of course, this doesn't last long, as Crimson, the middle sister to Scarlet and Ruby, and fellow soldier stationed with Scarlet's squad, gets suspicious of the missing rations, Scarlet's dismissal of the issue, and her wandering off frequently, and ends up following her and finds her giving the stolen rations to May. A fight breaks out between the two, with Crimson managing to nearly take Scarlet's eye out in the process, as Scarlet's the only person ever to bring a gun to a knife fight and lose. May booked it the MOMENT Crimson jumped out, so she's long gone by the time the scuffle ends, but Scarlet, having just been caught stealing rations, aiding a runaway, and now attacking a fellow soldier (Even if in self defense), bolts to try and make it to the surface as well, albeit she doesn't know where May ran off to.

May ends up making it to the surface around a month after that incident, after wandering lost for the time between, and, while struggling to try and buy some clothes thanks to the language barrier between her and the commonly spoken languages of the surface, one of the employees working there, Penny, is able to help figure out what May's looking for, and helps her with the whole process, since it's a lot different from how it was in the domes. They don't end up seeing each other after that for around a year, but it's important when they do, as Penny's was the first person on the surface May really had a good experience with, so when they randomly run into each other, May's very happy to be able to tell her how meaningful that was to her, and that she's much more adjusted to the culture and language now.

Meanwhile, Jake! Jake ends up wandering deep within the domes, far away from where the actual settlements and cities are, for over a year, just barely surviving through scavenging and avoiding patrolling soldiers. Still, he's not great at it, and eventually he ends up being held at gunpoint by Parker, who insists he tell her his rank and what he's doing out here. He has no idea, as he was never in the military and lies through his teeth. Luckily for him, Parker is a military deserter, and would've had a much worse reaction had she believed him, instead realizing that he's not a soldier and has no idea what he's talking about. Parker's been hiding out in the area, an abandoned sewer system that's frequented as a supply route for soldiers, for several months at this point, and while she actually enjoys her life of living down there, it's a lot of work to survive on her own, and realizing Jake's a fugitive also means he's a potential survival partner.

The two end up meeting up once every day for around a week before Parker feels confident enough that Jake isn't going to screw her over or try and turn her in or anything, and invites him to live with her at her "apartment", an old maintenance closet that's very secluded and not marked on any military maps, under the agreement that the two of them actually work together. Jake instantly agrees because he's been miserable and awful for the past year, while Parker's doing surprisingly well for herself, she even has multiple sets of clothes that she's stolen from nearby outposts (As well as an entire mattress she stole, and her most prized possession, a full deck of playing cards, and an Octo Shot she definitely killed a man for), as opposed to Jake, who's been going off of only what he had on him when everything went down, which is... practically nothing.

The plot basically slows down and chills out here for a while, May and June end up moving in with Penny after a few months of May and Penny hanging out instead of having to live in the shitty motel they'd been living in before (Albeit, the motel was better than the wilds they'd been living in before that), and Parker and Jake get adjusted to their lives in hiding surprisingly well. May and Scarlet even find each other on the surface again, they run into each other while May's out grocery shopping, and it's a very important moment for the both of them, as they've spent this entire time carrying around the guilt of feeling responsible for what happened, so them seeing the other and seeing how much better they're doing on the surface helps ease those guilts.

And then the events of Octo Expansion happen in the background. Parker and Jake know the routines of the soldiers in the area after years of living together, but the supply lines end up being used by sanitized Octoling soldiers after Kamabo starts massively ramping up production, leading to patrols of sanitized soldiers at seemingly random intervals, and outside of the predictable patterns that Parker and Jake were used to. Parker's out doing the laundry when a patrol finds her, and, greatly outnumbering her, end up nearly killing her, and dragging her back to be sanitized. She's in too bad of condition to be saved and reused as a test subject, so she's just sanitized instead.

Jake, naturally, notices when Parker never comes back from doing the laundry, and proceeds to be missing for upwards of two weeks. Jake does his best to look for her, but he also doesn't want to stray too far from their "apartment", as he's scared she might return home when he's gone, and with the unpredictable patrols, he doesn't feel like it's safe to stay out for as long as he wants to to look for her, so he ends up sticking close to home and just hoping he'll be able to find some clue of her. Of course, when he finally does, finally spotting her hanging around the entrance to the hallways that lead to their apartment, it's Not a good thing. He runs up to her to ask where she's been, and the moment he calls for her she turns and attacks him. It's not even a fair fight, even if he went in expecting a fight, he wouldn't have won, but this was a complete surprise. She quickly attacks him and takes him back to be put into the metro as a test subject, and, since he was brought back in much better shape than she was, he actually can be salvaged as a test subject!

And then he isn't. He's in the process of being readied as a test subject, namely, having his memories messed with, that the entire plot of Octo Expansion actually happens, and he's freed when the entire facility shuts down, and the metro is just a normal transport system again. He ends up wandering around for another month or so, except doing so very poorly, as the effects that being prepped to be a test subject had on his memory is bad, and basically erased all of his knowledge on how to survive on his own. Eventually, and luckily for him, he's found by one of the rescue teams that have been sent out in the aftermath of Octo Expansion to rescue lost and sanitized Octolings, and FINALLY gets brought to the surface, as well as being hospitalized for a whole myriad of problems, mainly being severely dehydrated from not remembering safe ways to find and gather water reliably.

When he's ready to be discharged, he realizes he has really nowhere to go, but since he still remembers May's phone number from when they were kids (As it's been years at this point, May and Jake are both in their mid 20s now, and June's around ~17), and calls her to ask if she can come pick him up and also if he can crash at her place for a bit. May is more than a bit surprised that her childhood friend she was fairly convinced had died years ago, and that she feels guilty for abandoning, is not only still alive, but super casual and chill just. Calling her cell and asking if he can sleep on her couch. At this point, June's already moved out, having been encouraged by both May and Penny to get out on her own and try getting out of her comfort zone, and is living in Splatsville with her roommate Basil, and not really having any major plot moments of her own. She's having fun and coming out of her shell and having silly lesbian shenanigans with her roommate in the background while Jake and May are experiencing the horrors.

Ultimately, this is about where thing stop being decided and I still need to figure out what happens next. Jake is living on May and Penny's couch (The universe will never let them have their house to themselves. Not even 3 months after June moves out, Jake's crashing on their couch), and has no memory of his time with Parker, Parker's MIA and potentially dead, and May's struggling with the idea that Jake's either in denial of some major trauma he must've faced through the years, or that she's somehow uniquely fucked up from what happened to them. To make matters worse, Jake's memory issues become more and more apparent, as he continues to struggle to remember Penny's name, instead repeatedly calling her "Parker", yet getting confused when he's corrected. I'm ultimately unsure what I'm going to do to resolve this plot thread, but May and Penny do realize that whoever Parker was, she was someone Jake knew in the time he was missing, and are trying to figure out just exactly who she was, if not where she actually is

Whether or not Parker is dead... it's up in the air. I initially planned for her to die and stay dead, but I'm the worlds biggest sap and I feel bad about killing her off permanently, as well as the fact I have plenty of silly ideas for what I could do with Parker once she's on the surface, so I'm still debating if it's more narratively satisfying for her to die or not. There's, if you believe it, actually a ton I'm glossing over (The intricacies of Jake and Parker's dynamic, the reasons why Parker left, basically everything about Basil and June, literally Basil has an entire friend group that has their own mini-plot that's not at all connected to this and doesn't get mentioned, Crimson is going to be more relevant once I figure out what I want to do with her, ect), but uh. That's the very long gist of it.

If anyone actually, genuinely reads through all of this. Thank you, apologies, and I love you

[the-magpie-archives]

One thing that's fascinating about Daisy as a character is that she's so powerfully slow. Not in wit or intellect, but physically, as a hunter. She knows her power and she has no need to rush or flail, it's easy to be calm when you have no difficulty asserting yourself.

This makes it all the more clear when the power slips from her grasp. She rushes, fumbles, makes mistakes. There's very few times that she slips up, early on at least. Aside from a few select moments she maintains the gravitas and power of a wolf or a bear all the way from her introduction to the coffin, but after the coffin things change.

Basira has every reason to be upset at her change, because after that trauma Daisy becomes a different thing entirely. Her demeanour changes, she speeds up, she's skittish, she loses her strength. She's no longer slow and certain but weak and clingy.

It might feel wrong to want that slow and steady person back but relationships are like music and if the tempo changes the balance shifts and that can lead to terrible things, things that cause you to lose eachother.

Am I saying that perhaps if Daisy had somehow managed to avoid traumatisation, keep her tempo stable, that she wouldn't have had to sacrifice herself?

Maybe.

Even in her early moments of irrationality there is a swift calculation to it, an understanding. If Daisy had been able to keep a grasp on her fierce intellect perhaps the violence of the hunt could have been suppressed!

But no, what use is there in thinking like that? After all, animals can never live as long as humans.

[lucabyte]

I 100% agree with your tags on that post, the best shipping gets fucking WEIRD with it.

i like fluff as much as the next guy but what good is a ship if it doesnt also have the range to make you go ?????????????????????

like "oh so you think these characters are dating?" not necessarily. something is happening though.

which is why i dont usually call myself a shipper in any capacity because i rarely get invested in a relationship in an "i want that to happen/im going to look at fancontent for this" way. i just kind of diagnose things like a malpracticing doctor. then sit back and speculate.

[keeps-ache]

DARN, missed it again! 2nd anniversary of being a they/themer :D

[thelonelynindroid]

Brad Jo Dana Evil Gang.........I love it

[visceralcoma]

I forgot how much I cannot stand specific kind of fans of this specific character in a fandom I’m in. Just when I was thinking of writing for that character, who I actually don’t mind. He’s just not my favorite but he is one of the two fandom darlings. And my GOSH these specific fans are just so fucking obnoxious. And I was reminded of why I lost muse for one of my fics because these fans were all over it and hoping my OC would be shipped with him (he wasn’t).

And like not all fans of this character are bad. But these ones in particular the ones that interacted with me directly are just UGH. They’re as bad as marauders fans who only read ATYD. Like they are THAT obnoxious.

[strawberrybrunette]

My Roman Empire has changed.

Idk how to feel about it.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

[gregrulzok]

I got kinda poet-ish about it in my last post but I need to be more direct:

Genuinely what the FUCK is wrong with Daniel Molloy.

Like okay, yes, 100+ year old broody vampires with incredibly tragic backstories will be hot and a little bit insane. That's literally a given.

Daniel Molloy is a 30-somethings man with a budding alcohol problem and verging on a midlife crisis, and his response to a world-shattering revelation that vampires are real is to go SO fucking off the rails that his 500 year old millionaire stalker that blends rats for fun, reads 70 books a day at mach speed, and once SEWED A YOUNG GIRL'S HEAD TO AN OLDER WOMAN'S BODY AFTER MURDERING THEM has to be like "Daniel you're being weird again".

Like this man.

- Has no backstory as far as I know? Certainly no tragic tale I've ever heard. He'd literally some dude off the street.

- Is one of the only characters to ever be with Armand and NOT fetishize the fact that he looks 17 (hats off)

- BUT he DOES fetishize him being a literal fucking corpse, direct quote "I like kissing. And snuggling with dead things, yes, hold me." so maybe we should place him on some kind of list anyway

- Is literally ADDICTED to vampire blood, and the reason for it is that it gives him fucked up visions of suffering and torment and he's into that

- (I'm cutting him a lot of slack for also being not dissimilarly addicted to having his blood drunk, because this is Tunglr and I think we can all relate to that, but let the record state for real world purposes that's still fucking weird)

- Yells at and berates his deranged vampire stalker WELL before the time they become Lovers, in the MIDDLE of said deranged vampire stalker having some kind of angry meltdown. ("I WANT YOU TO DIAL PARIS, I WANT TO SEE IF YOU CAN REALLY TALK TO PARIS" [...] "WHAT ARE YOU, AN IMMORTAL IDIOT?" This is during a time period where, for all he knows, the deranged vampire stalker is fully comfortable with and even vaguely planning on killing him.

- Hears OVER AND OVER AGAIN how becoming a vampire is nothing but a terrible irreversible eternal curse, sees how every vampire he meets (all... Two of them, to be fair), longs for humanity, and STILL thinks "Nah. I'm built DIFFERENT."

- Like. Listen. He's aware of the pain and suffering he'd bring to others. He fully knows about it because he drinks Armand's blood. And he WANTS TO DO THAT, like that would NOT be an issue for him.

- At best that's a sacrifice he's willing to make so he gets to cuddle his dead boyfriend for all eternity. At worst, and more probably, that's a fun perk for him.

Like Daniel what is your fucking PROBLEM, man.

[teine-mallaichte]

We need to expand our use of dilirium within the whump community I think.

When people see the prompt "dilirium" or "dilirious" in a whump event most jump to fever, illness, infection. And that's fine. That's valid. But there is SO MUCH MORE to dilirium.

Delirium is a complex psychological state that can indeed be triggered by illness and fever, but it can also result from a wide array of other causes. It’s a state where cognition and coherence deteriorate, where reality may start to frey at the edges leaving the whumpee confused, disorientated, maybe unable to even distinguish reality.

You can drive a character into a dilirious state without any external factors. A characters cognition and coherence can be picked to the brink by so many things.

1. Extreme Sleep Deprivation: this is a favourite of mine. A whumpee kept awake for days on end, their cognitive functions begin to deteriorate, the boundary between wakefulness and sleep blurs, leading to fractured and disjointed thought processes. The mind starts to struggle to maintain coherence, resulting in hallucinations and a profound disorientation.

2. Substance Withdrawal: Not one I've explored much, but can totally count. The body and mind in chaos, craving what they can no longer have. The physical symptoms can be brutal, but the psychological torment can drive them into a state of delirium, where reality becomes a shifting, unreliable landscape.

3. Psychological Torture: Another one I tend to gravitate to. Intense psychological manipulation, sensory deprivation or overwhelm can also drive the mind into delirium. Continuous gaslighting, isolation, or exposure to disturbing stimuli can erode a characters grasp on reality, leading to a state where they can no longer distinguish between truth and illusion.

4. Emotional Trauma: this a mental breakdown. Severe emotional trauma pushing a whumpee into a to their mental limits. The overwhelming stress and fear fracturing their mind, causing confusion, disorientation, dissociation, hallucinations as their psyche tries to protect itself and struggles to make sweetheart if what's happened/happening.

5. Overwhelming Physical Pain: Pain, just pain, if relentless and severe enough, can lead to delirium. A whumpee in constant, excruciating pain might find their mind breaking under the strain, leading to confusion, disorientation, and a detachment from reality.

6. Fever: and just because it can't really be left of the list, fever. Infections, illness, etc. But did you know there is more than one kind of dilirium? Yes there is the sick whumpee who is too weak too most and admits all their insecurities and secrets in a slurred disjointed major. But there is also the type of dilirium where the character becomes energetic, erratic behavior, pacing incessantly and speaking rapidly, refusing to rest. Frustrating and worrying for those trying to help.

And this is just the ones of the top of my head. There's so much potential here! And yes this is a very self indulgent and selfish post that I wrote while writing a fic where I am inducing dilirium in a character through acute stress and an identity crisis 😅 but in short - I want to see more varied portrayals of dilirium in whump.

An extension of this post A similar post about hallucinations A similar post about fever