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#annoyed caretaker
tildeathiwillwrite · 29 days
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The Dangers of Jumping
WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 8: Stranded / Team whump / "Is anyone there?!"
Whumpril Day 6 (Dizziness)
WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List
Whumpril Prompts List
The Legend of Orian Goldeneye Masterpost
part 2
TW: head injury, concussion, unconsciousness, falling, dizziness, vertigo, environmental whump, blood, bruises
Context: Post-canon one-shot where Jas and Killian explore the universe together. Unfortunately this Jump has already gone south. (have I mentioned that these two are very whumpable?)
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Jas’s head was pounding, like someone was taking a hammer and chisel to her inner skull. She groaned softly, eyes closed as she slowly put her hand up to the source of the pain. It came away warm and sticky. She froze, and her eyes flicked open. She lay on her back on a rough, cold, uneven surface, one of her legs pinned uncomfortably beneath her body. Far above, stars glittered in unfamiliar constellations, with dark clouds obscuring parts of the night sky.
Jas slowly sat up and straightened out, cautiously probing at the wound on the side of her head. It bled heavily, but it wasn’t too big or too deep. The motion made her head spin, and it took her a second to focus on the rest of her surroundings.
She was on a ledge of some kind, bare stone jutting out of a cliff face with scattered tufts of wildflowers. Less than a foot to her right was a sudden drop of at least thirty feet, maybe more. She gasped and scrambled back, the movement not helping with her headache or sense of vertigo. Her rushed action drew her attention to the object in her other hand: a necklace with a glassy green pendant, the chain tangled around her fingers. 
This jump-started her panic. “Killian?!” she shouted, glancing around the ledge frantically, although she already knew he wasn’t there. Did he fall? Is he at the bottom of the cliff? Did he not come out of the portal?
Jas touched the side of her head again and winced. The blow to her head, whenever that happened, must’ve been worse than she’d thought. The portal. That was the last thing she remembered, forming a portal and stepping through, Killian at her side. And after… she didn’t know.
Was this how Killian felt all the time? Jas suddenly developed more sympathy for his problems as she pushed herself to her feet, relying heavily on the cliff wall. It sloped up more gently than the drop across from her. She could scale it if necessary. But first, she had to check over the side.
Jas was too dizzy to trust herself to stand so close to the edge, so she went onto her hands and knees and crawled until she could peer over the side without fear of falling. The drop had to be about a hundred feet, but it was hard to tell from this angle because a thick forest of pine trees carpeted the base of the cliff and blocked the view of the ground.
Far off in the distance was a faint orange glow, almost absorbed by the forest, one that wavered and flickered like a fire. A camp, maybe? Hopefully, it was civilization and not a forest fire. Jas continued scanning the forest, searching for any other signs of life. She might have to wait until sunrise, she couldn't see much of anything in the dark.
When she was going to give up and wait until morning, a small splash of color caught her eye. Was that Killian’s jacket?
She squinted. It certainly looked like it. The jacket was torn up, dangling from broken branches several layers deep in the closest pine tree. Killian must’ve fallen through the tree, the branches breaking his fall and tearing his jacket from him. His bag shouldn't be too far away.
Jas sighed sharply through her nose. I have to get down there, don't I?
She glanced around the ledge. Her headache was beginning to subside, the wound scabbing over and matting her hair into a red mess. Unfortunately, there wasn't any simple way down other than… jumping.
Jas sighed through her nose sharply before slipping Killian’s pendant over her head and rising to her feet. She backed up, cursing herself with each step she took. This is so stupid, you’re gonna kill yourself, or break something, or—
She sprinted and leaped off the ledge. Time seemed to slow as she sailed through the air.
Jas braced herself for the impact, but it still took her breath away when she crashed into the tree, its thin branches snapping under her weight. She flailed, trying to grab something, anything to slow her fall.
Her fingers wrapped around a thick branch, and she jerked to a stop, nearly dislocating her shoulder in the process. “Oww…” she mumbled. She would be finding bruises for the next week from this. “Okay, jacket.”
She’d aimed for the tree next to the one where Killian’s jacket had gotten caught, so it was only a matter of maneuvering and balancing precariously on branches before she snatched it from the tree’s grasp. Slinging it over her shoulder, Jas began to descend, taking care that she did not fall the rest of the way like Killian had.
Pine needles crunched underfoot as she dropped the remaining feet from the lowest branch. She paused, squinting. It was a lot darker down here than on the cliff face; the tall trees blocked out the light of the stars. So, despite having a rough idea of where to look, it still took almost two excruciating minutes before she found Killian.
He was crumpled at the base of the tree like a discarded toy, covered in dozens of cuts and bruises. He was unconscious, naturally, but his chest rose and fell slowly. Still alive, at least.
Jas nudged him with her foot. “Killian?”
He didn’t move.
She poked him again, harder. No response. “Damnit,” she muttered, “why do you have to be so delicate?”
Killian offered no answer, so Jas glanced around until her eyes fell on his bag lying a few feet away. “Well…” she said aloud as she picked it up and slung it over her head and shoulder, “I have no clue where we are, and there’re signs of life off that way—” she waved vaguely in the direction of the flickering glow— “and we’re pretty much stranded until your Pendant resets.”
Jas crouched beside him and, with much effort, lifted him over her head and across her shoulders. “And,” she grunted, straightening up, “there are probably things in this forest other than us.
“So if you think I’m leaving you behind,” she finished as she started walking, “you’d be dead wrong.”
Perhaps ‘dead’ was a poor choice of words. But it wasn’t like anyone but the trees could hear Jas anyway.
@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds
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shokujin-art · 3 months
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Also don't forget to give some love to the old man 💖👌 ~
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edwardallenpoe · 11 days
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so, I've read quite a bit of bagginshield fanfiction, because of course I have, and I've noticed that Bilbo is not as sassy in fic??
Like, is it just me or was Bilbo like, sarcastic and had an attitude in the moveis?? The best example I can I remember off the top of my head of this is when Bilbo tells Gandalf he saw Thorin and co. On Ravenhill and said he had to get to them, and Gandalf said he couldn't make it, and he said "uh, yeah I can." I loved it, honestly, but in fic writers tend to make him softer and shyer? This isn't a problem but I would love to see more sassy Bilbo!
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foundfamilywhump · 6 months
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truly i don't care who thinks it's stupid or boring or "doesn't count" or can't be as intense as what they think of as "real whump" or whatever else, whump with comfort and recovery and caretaker(s) is always going to be my style of whump and i'm gonna have a blast vibing with people who also enjoy that
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Prompt 267
Danny is rather incensed, but it’s absolutely nothing compared to Tucker and Sam. 
Not only are they children, again, despite being ready for freaking college (which he had worked so hard throughout the summer, what with his grades thanks to ghosts) literal hours before, but they’re also in a completely new place.
And now they’re toddlers! Toddlers! Two or three at most! It’s horrible, they’re all so tiny and clumsy and practically none of their powers work and-
Is that a dragon? 
There is now a dragon sniffing at them which is heavily concerning. Um, hey, please don’t eat them? Pretty please? They will growl and bite at you- oh Ancients that’s a lot of dragons. 
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balkanradfem · 1 year
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you're a m*n and you do something nice for your spouse/kid/relative/stranger: instant internet fame and glory, people celebrating your good deed internationally, not only you are one of the best in existence now but complete strangers are personally declaring their love for you. This good deed will be remembered forever and brought up frequently to up your 'nice m*n' status, and you will never be expected to do anything of that sort of grandiosity ever again.
you're a woman and you do something nice for your spouse/kid/relative/stranger: You've been doing these every single day of your life, you've had to do most of them in order to get everyone thru the day. It's the least everyone expects of you. If this is something new you've done that you don't already do on a regular basis, now this is expected from you on a regular basis. Nobody notices, brings it up, it's demanded on the regular, and if you fail to deliver you will be shamed and called names. If you bring it up ever, you will be shamed into silence and pressured to give more credit to that m*n who did a nice thing once, he is the actual hero of the day.
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lastdivantruther · 4 months
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don't trust her dazai, she's gonna blackmail you to buy every flavor of ice creams and bully you anytime chuuya is around.
i don't trust my writing to be readable so dialogs under the cut:
Kyouka: Dazai-san, is it true that you're going to die of heartbreak if you have to hide your undying love for big brother any longer?
Dazai, earlier that day: If poor Chuuya hides his undying love for me any longer, I'm afraid he'll die of heartbreak!
Dazai, now: 'Not exactly in those words...'
Kyouka: I don't want you to die. So I decided to help you by acting as your illegitimate child. With this plan big brother will take pity on us and agree to go out with you.
Atsushi, murmuring to himself: Could it work? I mean, I wouldn't fall for it myself ofc, but Chuuya-san seems like a kind person... Would I fall for it?? If Aku had an....
Tsushi and Dazai: 'Isn't that the plot of the TV show from last night?'
Dazai: Kyouka-chan, that's a PERFECT idea!! 🌸
Kunikida, from his desk: No it's fucking not!
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 4 months
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t shirt that says "i'm not an accomplice but 20 dollars is 20 dollars"
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fabuloustrash05 · 1 year
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Feel free to give your reason for your answer in the comments or reblog. Either a short and sweet answer or go ham and do a long essay! I'm curious to know everyone's opinion.
Also please do not hate on other people’s opinions or starts fights. Lets all be respectful!
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shywhumpauthor · 1 year
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Whumper who intended it to be a quick kidnapping/ransom, no strings attached, get the money dump the Whumpee, but somewhere along that line they grew quite fond of their little kidnapee and suddenly the money doesn’t look so appealing anymore and oops, sorry, they’re mine now, keep the money whatever
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thresholdbb · 3 days
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Hold up, how have they not cured allergies yet?
TORRES: We're not finished yet. I know a few things that old Sneezy didn't teach in his survival course.
KIM: Sneezy?
TORRES: Commander Zakarian, remember? He must have been allergic to everything.
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tildeathiwillwrite · 30 days
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"Is that a kid!?"
WoW Birthday Whump Day 7: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / "Is that blood?!"
Whumpril Day 7 (Hesitation)
WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List
Whumpril Prompts List
Tales from Valaria Masterpost
TW: blood, referenced kidnapping, referenced poison, referenced torture, cleaning wounds
Context: Draven receives an unexpected visit from Octavian. And he's not alone. A.K.A. Draven meets a child who is definitely not traumatized.
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Draven was in the middle of housework when the front door lock clicked. He froze, dusting cloth in one hand, the other reaching for the pistol at his side. The door creaked as someone pushed it open, then it shut just as quickly. Was that two sets of footsteps?
The door lock clicked a second time, and Draven drew the pistol, letting the dusting cloth fall to the floor. “Hiro?” He called, scrambling off the table—where he was dusting off the lamp above—and moving towards the doorway that connected the kitchen to the main living space. What he saw when he entered the room gave him pause.
“Is that blood?!”
Octavian glanced down at his hand. The skin on his knuckles had broken, and the cloth wadded tightly around his palm was soaked in the pale red liquid. A nasty gash above his right eye dripped blood down his face like tears. “...yes.”
Draven jumped as a small head popped out from behind Octavian. “And is that a kid?”
The girl flinched at his words and ducked back out of view. She was young, couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen, with short blonde hair.
“Also yes,” Octavian said simply. “I found her in the forest while hunting.”
Draven slid the pistol back into its holster. “Did you lose a fight with a bear? I expected better from you, de Silv.”
The devar rolled his eyes. “Obviously not. I sustained these injuries while trying to escort her home.” He gave the girl a significant look. “Because she hadn’t bothered to tell me she’d been kidnapped.”
“I said I was sorry,” the girl mumbled, barely audible from across the room.
“Kidnapped? Is that why you brought her here, of all places?” Draven crossed the room and reassessed both their injuries. Other than the bloody knuckles, the cut above his eye, and probably a few bruises, Octavian looked all right. The girl, however, was another case.
Upon first inspection, she only looked to have a partially scabbed-over cut on her left cheek. But the deep red stains on the sleeves of her jacket, too big for her, told a different story. She also didn’t look like she’d had a proper night’s sleep in some time. Draven could relate.
The girl’s face reddened at Draven’s inspection. Her eyes were downcast, and she picked at the hems of her jacket.
“Yes. I assume that whoever had taken her had agents in Zariya, they tried to snatch her off the street before we got out of sight.”
The key word was ‘tried’. Draven nodded before turning on his heel and darting back to the kitchen. Snatching his bag from its place on the table, he returned and dropped it in front of one of the couches. “Sit,” he ordered.
Octavian did so without question or hesitation, and the girl meekly followed. Draven rummaged through the bag, searching through the disorganized mess for the medical supplies he kept on hand. The hunting business was notorious for many on-the-job injuries, even for the mercenaries.
The first thing Draven shoved at Octavian was the tiny bottle of augri, alcohol so pure that ingesting it might cause death. “For cleaning the wounds. Not for drinking.”
The devar regarded him with mild amusement. “My people—er—my poison tolerance is greater than you realize, Cozenson.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Draven handed him a pair of handkerchiefs. “I don’t have extra on hand and it doesn’t taste good anyway.”
“...how do you know that?” the girl asked quietly as Octavian wet one of the cloths with the augri.
Draven tossed the rest of the medical supplies onto the couch next to Octavian. It was a jumble of different bandages that he hoped would be enough to bind their wounds. All as clean as possible, of course. He had standards. “Hiro—my roommate—dared me to try some once when we were in training. I didn’t swallow it, obviously, but let’s just say I prefer whiskey.”
The girl frowned. “‘Training’?”
Octavian pressed the handkerchief to his injured knuckles and hissed out through his teeth. “He’s a lycanthrope hunter. My apologies, I didn’t introduce you. This is Draven Cozenson, my partner. Draven, this is Reese.”
Reese’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re the werewolf hunter? The one who used to work in the northern forests?”
Draven rocked back on his heels, mystified. “Yeah, that’s me.” He knew his fame had grown since training, but for a random Zariyan girl to know who he was… had he really gotten that famous? Apparently so.
Octavian finished cleaning off his hand and started wrapping it. “You’re going to have to remove the jacket,” he said softly. 
Reese glanced down at her forearms, hidden underneath the stained sleeves, and grimaced. “Oh… yeah….” She slowly slipped off the jacket, jaw set as her wounds were revealed.
Draven cursed. “What in the depths did they do to you, kid?”
The cuts were shallow, thank the celestials, but so much of her blood was smeared over the skin that it was impossible to tell the extent.
“The cuts weren't them,” Reese said, numb. She pointed to the bruises on her inner elbows and wrists. “That's what they did. The cuts were done by… I think it was a fellow prisoner. With broken glass.”
Octavian froze in the act of scrubbing the blood from his face. “You didn't tell me that.”
Reese only shrugged, reaching for the augri and the other handkerchief. She winced when the alcohol made contact with the cuts but did not cry out.
Draven made uneasy eye contact with Octavian as the devar cleaned the gash over his eye. This changed things, and they both knew it. Not only had the people who'd taken Reese tried to get her back, they'd done so in broad daylight. Octavian defended her, and although they escaped, her abductors would be keeping watch for both of them.
“I need you both to lie low for a few days,” Draven began, rising to his feet. “Perhaps even move to my other safehouse when it gets dark. Then we get Reese home safely and figure out our next move from here.” He glanced at Reese. “Did you learn any of your captors’ names?”
She hesitated before responding. “Only Sagon. I don't know his last name. He has long black hair, it's always pulled back, but he wore a mask like a black circle to cover his face.”
Octavian folded his arms. “I can handle myself, Cozenson. They were no match for me.”
“Clearly…” Draven deadpanned, eyeing the cut on his head. “How'd you end up with a wound like that, anyway?”
The devar muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
“Hmm?”
“...I let myself get slammed into a table…” Octavian repeated, face darkening.
Draven smirked. “‘Handle yourself’, indeed.”
“Shut up.”
@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds
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>opens disco elysium tag and sees jeancourse >ask if the point is real or headcanon >they don't understand >pull out fayde >they laugh and say "it's a good point sir" >read the post >it's headcanon
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why do people act like just because someone doesn’t want kids society is gonna collapse
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shoechoe · 1 year
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On the subject of people insisting that Trish is Doppio's daughter instead of Diavolo's, I think the main reason that bothers me isn't because it's just incorrect, but because people use that to try and twist the narrative into "Diavolo is the evil monster that ruined poor Doppio's relationship and if only he was never there, Doppio could've stayed with Donatella and been a good father to Trish and none of this would've ever happened!"
You guys… Doppio actively helped Diavolo kill Trish. The point isn't that Diavolo is a horrible monster for getting in the way of Doppio's happy domestic life or whatever- the point is that Diavolo's paranoia and attempts to erase his past became a self-fulfilling prophecy as his own past actions finally caught up to him and led to his defeat.
As Diavolo became increasingly power-hungry, he lost his humanity in order to become completely untouchable by the outside world. He sabotaged his own life (including Doppio by extension) to sever all of his ties from the rest of humanity. He was willing to burn down his hometown, abandon his girlfriend, and eventually try to kill his kid because of his paranoia and lack of care for anyone but himself. His own daughter, a person he's supposed to care about, was instead a painful living reminder of his past that he wanted to dispose of at any cost.
That’s the moral of his character; when all you seek is power, you lose your humanity and sight of what’s really important, which, in this case, was his child. This “Diavolo is the evil split personality getting in the way of Doppio being a good father” narrative totally defeats the point (not to mention echoes the tiresome “sweet, innocent alter with an evil violent alter” character trope that has been used to stigmatize people with Dissociative Identity Disorder for decades).
I feel the same way about the constant insistence that Doppio is the "real/original" of the two and that Diavolo is the "fake" one, whatever that means (if anything, it would be the reverse since the manga repeatedly calls Diavolo the "true form" and their "true nature"- though this entire idea of one being "fake" and one being "real" doesn't really make sense), the "Diavolo is actually a demon possessing Doppio" theories, and the constant babying of Doppio's character. It's all geared to favor Doppio and frame him as the pure victim and Diavolo as the practically inhuman monster, resulting in squashing out the depth in both of them (and honestly detracting attention from the real innocent victim, which is Trish.)
And it’s not like Doppio needs any of this mischaracterization to be interesting; there’s genuine tragedy to his character as well. Diavolo’s obsession with self-isolation ends up dragging Doppio around with him as he’s used as a human vessel, even though Doppio does not desire this isolation for himself. As a result, he’s incredibly lonely and unhappy, depending on his Boss for companionship and instruction, never realizing that the one responsible for his loneliness in the first place is his Boss- who is also the other side of their fractured identity. In the end, he’s forcefully separated from Diavolo and ends up dying alone, deliriously begging for his Boss to call him despite Diavolo not even being there to hear him, never getting to discover the truth about himself. It reflects not only how brutally Diavolo treats others to achieve ultimate power, but also how he treats himself.
Character favoritism is fine- after all, Doppio is the more likable one, so it was inevitable- but I think it's leading people to make these two into worse characters, and that bothers me. You don’t need to spout misconceptions, fall back on overdone mental illness tropes (really, canon is already bad enough as it is), and change the whole moral of their characters to make them interesting.
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master-missysversion · 8 months
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The doctor being mad about Clara dating a soldier is so funny, sir you married your own assassin
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