So it has come to my attention (and has really always been a known problem since Iâm a disorganized mess) that my Masterpost is a little hard to follow so Iâve made a GoogleDoc where the links will be stored and updated as I go.Â
This universe includes: Markus/Lucien Series; the Alec Series; and @0idril0âs Nico Series.
Please see the link:Â https://docs.google.com/document/d/15Do9FzYPH01y2MyXmm0ehwY64PN68y8UK3pc6pq9lzw/edit
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âPublic libraries are such important, lovely places!â Yes but do you GO there. Do you STUDY there. Do you meet friends and get coffee there. Do you borrow the FREE, ZERO SUBSCRIPTION, ZERO TRACKING books, audiobooks, ebooks, and films. Have you checked out their events and schemes. Do you sign up for the low cost courses in ASL or knitting or programming or writing your CV that they probably run. Do you know they probably have myriad of schemes to help low income families. Do you hire their low cost rooms if you need them. Have you joined their social groups. Do you use the FREE COMPUTERS. Do you even know what your library is trying to offer you. Listen, the library shouldnât just exist for you as a nice idea. Thatâs why more libraries shut every year
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A character looks at another who is clearly not doing well- at the extremis of exhaustion, in emotional tatters, minorly but miserably ill, waterlogged, pervadingly chilled, looking like they've been dragged backwards through a hedge or several- and just opens their arms and says to them "Come here-" which is all the invitation the woebegone character needs to fall into their companion's arms to be wrapped in their embrace.
this is probably an unpopular opinion but I think interpreting the doctor as passively evil is an interesting character experiment. like, by human standards theyâre pretty much an immortal, ancient, godlike entity. they travel all of time and space, saving or destroying entire civilizations on a whim. they travel with humans because theyâre obsessed, almost addicted, to human mortality and naivety. sure, they claim to love their companions, but involvement in their lives almost always ends in misery, and then itâs onto the next. imagine the TARDIS filled with abandoned bedrooms, clothes on the floor, beds unmade, toothpaste in the sink. their things frozen in time, dust-covered and tomblike. and the doctor is drifting through space, surrounded by evidence of all the lives theyâve ruined. anyway, if anyone has evil doctor fic recommendations pls drop them below.
Whumpee who is scrubbing their skin raw trying to escape the memories of what happened.
Whumpee who almost falls asleep in the shower/bath because they are so exhausted.
Whumpee who is still in shock, being carefully cleaned by Caretaker.
Whumpee who hides in the shower, finally allowing themselves to break down.
Whumpee who avoids showering for as long as they can because of what happened (water trauma? feeling trapped/locked in? ablutophobia/fear of bathing?).
Whumpee who gets to shower for the first time in days/weeks/months.
Whumpee who finally feels a little bit like themselves again after getting to shower.
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(i just saw a post about this and wanted to make my own list)
Content: choking, ptsd
Victim that's been choked many times, eyelids fluttering closed as they try to conserve energy
First time, eyes fly open, panicking, trying to gag and can't even get that out
Afterward because of the compression of the trachea, victim ende up coughing and possibly spitting
Those panicky, gravelly breaths right after
The betrayed look sideways at aggressor as victim holds throat and tries to get their breath
Sometimes your body doesn't decide to get faint until after the breath is restored. Victim gasping, hand against the wall for support after aggressir lets go.
Rubbing their throat quietly
Chin down, pulling back reflexively whenever aggressor gets angry after that
Whumpee who's been confined in a cramped position for ages finally being rescued. Once they're home and clean and safe, Caretaker starts the loooong process of massaging out their muscles. Except Whumpee's muscles are so cramped and sore that even the lightest touch is agony. Caretaker keeps flinching back and Whumpee keeps begging them not to stop, even though they're sobbing into the pillow like they're taking a beating.
Whumpee who's constantly dissociated, Caretaker just trying to keep them comfortable while hoping they'll come out of it soon (they've been like this since their rescue) ?
content: past trauma, dissociation, comfort, rocky recovery
Caretaker softly knocked on Whumpeeâs bedroom door before opening it and poking their head inside. âDinnerâs ready.â
Whumpee was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was nothing new by now. Theyâd spent most of their days like that since the rescue, and no matter how worrying it was, Caretaker was instructed to just⌠let them. Doctor said theyâd eventually snap out of it.
Whenever âeventuallyâ would be.
Caretaker walked over and grabbed them by the hand, slowly pulling them up. âArenât you hungry? You skipped lunch. Iâm not letting you skip dinner.â
âOkay,â Whumpee said quietly. They got out of bed and followed Caretaker down the stairs into the kitchen, then sat down and ate their soup in silence.
âHow was your day?â Caretaker tried.
âOkay,â they mumbled.
âHave you⌠done anything different today? Check your phone, watch some videosâŚâ
âNo.â
âJust lying in bed?â
Whumpee nodded. Caretaker knew they shouldâve been more patient, but it was so difficult to watch their friend be so far gone. They were rapidly losing weight, deteriorating right before their eyes when theyâd finally gotten them back.
âI think we should go out tomorrow.â
Whumpee didnât reply.
âDonât you want to? You⌠spent so long in that house. Trapped. Donât you want to go out?â
Whumpee still didnât reply and Caretaker sighed.
âI think itâd do you good. We should at least try. Maybe being anywhere other than your dark room would help ground you a little. Help get rid of that fuzzy TV static in your brain you keep telling me about.â
By this point, Whumpee had stopped eating completely. They were fully checked out, Caretaker could tell.
âYouâre not even hearing me, are you?â No response. âPlease, at least eat your dinner.â No response.
Caretaker stood up from their chair and went over to the other side of the table, gently rubbing Whumpeeâs arm.
âHey. Whumpee. Come back to earth, yeah?â
After a little while, Whumpee looked up at them, confused. âWhat?â
âYou stopped moving during dinner. I just want to make sure you finish your soup at least. Youâre not eating a lot.â
âOh.â Whumpee looked back at their plate and started eating again. Caretaker walked back to their own seat and sat down.
Maybe tomorrow wouldnât be the day theyâd take Whumpee outside.
Caretaker looking after a whumpee that they knew before their capture. Whumpeeâs intelligence has been severely degraded as their mind has retreated into itself to shield them from what theyâve gone through; they find themself unable to understand simple ideas, stringing together full sentences is extremely hard for them and they have very short memory, they dissociate often, etc etc.
content: disabled whumpee, rocky recovery, comfort, past trauma
âItâs your turn to come up with the dinner plan,â Caretaker said, leaning against the frame of Whumpeeâs bedroom door. âSo, what are we eating?â
Whumpee looked at them, the cogs clearly turning in their head. They wouldnât come up with an answer for a while, so Caretaker had time to lament the way their friend had been hurt.
They used to be bubbly and full of life. So smart, too. Quick-witted. Now, Caretaker had to give them simple tasks like this every few days to keep their brain working, but not overwhelm them completely.
âIâŚâ Whumpee frowned, clearly concentrating. âI would like⌠mac n cheese?â
âDo you think you can help me in the kitchen today?â They gave Caretaker a blank look. âYou can grate cheese or something. It doesnât have to be complicated. Come on, you canât lie in bed all day.â
Whumpee eventually stood up and followed them out into the kitchen. They completed easy, monotone tasks well enough, and Caretaker was happy to see them out of their room.
Still, it was⌠difficult not to want the old Whumpee back. Some days it was difficult to celebrate the small victories when they thought back to how Whumpee used to be.
âCan you put salt in the water for me?â Caretaker asked gently.
âSaltâŚâ
âYou know where the salt is.â Whumpee was thinking hard, Caretaker could tell. âBut you can try a few different cabinets. You donât have to get it on the first try.â
Some days, Caretaker wanted to quit. Some days, it was frustrating and they felt fed up.
Whumpee opened the spice cabinet and took out the salt, making Caretaker smile. âGood job,â they praised. âJust pour some into the water. About that much, yeah.â
And some days, they felt proud that Whumpee was still at least around. It took strength to keep going, to keep living after everything. Despite Whumperâs best efforts, Whumpee was still around and kicking.
âGood job today,â Caretaker said as they guided Whumpee to their chair. âYou deserve a great big serving of mac n cheese to celebrate.â
foreshadowing done well makes me go feral like thereâs NOTHING better than getting to the end a book or an important storyline moment and realising that the author laced information so intricately into their writing that werenât noticeable upon first read but when you read back sections theyâre light giant red flags like wow writing is amazing
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Content: Major character death, grief, failed rescue (in a way?), team whump, angst, blood.
"They're back! Look!"
Caretaker winced at the sound of their team's excited exclaims. As they hobbled along the path that led to the base, they held Whumpee's bloodied body close to them, cradling their head to their chest. They were so unbelievably tired. Tired and worn out, but they only let it get to them when they knew they were safe again.
And then they collapsed onto the pavement, barely able to keep their grasp on reality as their knees scraped the ground. The sound of footsteps got closer, multiple pairs of feet running down the path to meet them where they kneel. They felt as if they'd failed.
"Hey," Leader was the first to greet them. Their voice was soothing and gentle, and they reached out to brush Caretaker's bloodied hair out of their face as they crouched down beside them. "Look at me. You're okay, yeah? You can rest now. We've got you."
All Caretaker could bring themself to do was cry, because they knew just how wrong Leader was. Nothing was okay, least of all them.
Shaking arms tilted Whumpee's face into view of everyone as they mustered up the strength to speak. "I tried so hard," they wept, and there was a small chorus of gasps as they realised what had happened.
Whumpee's bloodsoaked face staring blankly up at them, lips parted slightly and their body completely limp in Caretaker's arms. Had they been breathing, they'd have blamed it on shock, but it was obvious what had happened.
"I couldn't leave them," Caretaker's strained voice choked. "I... I was too late, but I was- I was able to grab their body. I figured... they'd want something better than to be left to rot in an abandoned house, you know? It was so hard. I- I didn't know what to do, I-"
Leader was there to catch them as they practically crumbled. Whumpee's body now lay on the ground in between them, and Caretaker clung to Leader with every lasting bit of strength they had in them. They wanted to scream. To cry until their lungs ached. There were so many things they wished they could do, and yet they struggled to do anything but hide from what had happened.
With a tight, anguished sob, they squeezed their eyes shut and grasped at Leader's tear-stained shirt, ignoring their team members slowly gathering around them, too. "They didn't deserve to die like that," they bawled, weakly slamming their fists against Leader's shoulder. "They didn't... they died alone, or- or with whoever the fuck did this. They died in that fucking basement with no one! How- ho-ow could anyone do that?"
Leader shook their head against Caretaker's shoulder, and Caretaker was too caught up in their own grief to hear the sob their tore from their mentor's throat, along with the quiet weeping from everyone else.
"I don't know," they eventually whispered, using the palm of their hand to rub circles into Caretaker's back. "I don't know, and It's not fair."
I donât know why I have decided that cat!Jon is just a stinky little boy. He needs a bath. Musty little brat
@ultramarinaa I hope you know how much theses little shits have infected by brain, I have drawn nothing but cats and there is no end in sight. I love these lill guys
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