#;hc

[dontcxckitup]

NI - Pt1

Drabble that got too long so it will have multiple parts/FF Gareth Mallory's recollection of his capture in Northern Ireland Setting: late 1980s/1990s, before his job at the MoD

Upon entering, the room was neither radiating comfort, nor friendliness – which should have been the case, technically. On the contrary, though: it was lacking all kinds of warmth, was cold and sterile, with a feeble attempt of a book collection on a bookshelf that had already seen better days. So not really helpful with intrusive thoughts and the already growing feeling of uneasiness. It actually woke memories from another place – a place he had learned to know by heart…

The walls naked and grey; the plaster chipped at some places, revealing the red bricks underneath. There are supposed to be windows showing the bright, lush world outside, but they are locked up with wooden boards. The only source of light in the entire room is a naked lightbulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling, dangling from its wire like a poor hanged man.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” He jolted out of the memory, forcing his gaze away from the light above them. The man had said something, but clearly he hadn’t heard him – his thoughts having been far away. Like so often now. His focus kept wavering lately, his mind drifting. Only one of the little gifts he had been given. The man before him, with his greying hair and the glasses on his nose, was looking at him expectantly. Clearly he had said something, but he wasn't sure what. Had he asked about his well-being? How he had found the way here? Was it smalltalk, or had that bloody session begun already?

He had been forced to come here, didn't actually want to be here and bare his soul and innermost thoughts - or memories, for that matter. "If you want back into active duty, you have to go to therapy first." Those had been the words thrown at him. He didn't need this, though. He didn't need to sit down twice a week and tell a complete stranger about what had happened to him. He was perfectly fine without this. The man was still staring, and now he could even see an eyebrow rising, waiting for an answer. "I'm...I apologise." His voice was quiet, barely able to rise. "I was--" "Your thoughts drifted away?" Oh, he hated this. People cutting in. As if he couldn't answer himself! Their eyes locked, and he was pretty sure the man - doctor - could read his thoughts in this moment. Stupid, of course, no one could read thoughts.

"I know what you're thinking." A cough interrupts the other, as his body is desperately trying to get the water out of his lungs. They are bursting, burning, at the same time pushing out water as they are trying to get air back in. His head suddenly snaps back as the man grabs him by his hair and pulls it back, forcing him to look up and into his ragged face. Still he probably looks better than him; at least he can shave and wash himself. "You're thinking...why are they doing this?" He grins down at him, and Gareth, gathering saliva in his mouth, stares back. Grimacing, he sucks in a breath, then spits into the other's face. It gives him a short-lasting feeling of gratification to see the disgusted face - before he feels the push. Next thing he knows, his head is underwater once more, one hand in his neck, the other in his hair, holding him where he is, not giving him an inch to move. And this time...this time it lasts longer than any time before; this time his lungs finally give in and he passes out from the lack of oxygen.

"They do that sometimes, don't they?" The man before him asked, tilting his head to the side curiously. "Where are they going, Mister Mallory? Where...have you gone just now?" "I'm...a bit tired, that's all." "Of course you are." Of course you are? A frown furrowed his brow for a moment. What the hell did he know? What did this man know? Nothing. He knew nothing, because Gareth hadn't said anything, because what had happened to him wasn't in any file. Only the physical wounds, the state he had been found in, while this doctor, oh-so-smart, had been sitting in his little armchair with his little notepad and pen and had jotted something down while others had told them about their day. It had probably been nothing but his grocery list, or notes on how boring these sessions were. So no, that man knew absolutely nothing. He probably didn't even know what 'tired' really meant. Lying naked on an ice-cold conrete floor, curled up, with every bone and nerve and inch of the skin hurting...

...unsure when they will come again, when the next wave of pain washes over him. Unable to sleep because the light above him is so bright he can still see it through his closed eyes. Because the pain won't stop; it won't numb, it only grows stronger. It is an illusion to think he will be able to sleep when they untie him from the chair and he can lie down. A beautiful illusion, but an illusion nonetheless. He can't stretch his legs because it hurts too much. His hands are tied together by the wrists, the rope so tight he can barely feel his stiff and cold fingers. Speaking of the cold...it is freezing. He has lost track of the date, but it must be some time in late December. Is it Christmas? Or has it passed already? There is no light coming in through the window, so he doesn't even know if it is day, or night. No watch to show what time it is - they have taken his, along with his clothes, as punishment for his attempted escape. All he can do now, when he has the luxury to lie on the ground, is to curl up and pull his knees against his chest to try and keep his body warm - at least a bit. Sleep, however, doesn't happen. Every time his eyes do close, they jolt open again. His senses are on high alert. They hear things that aren't there, the smallest noises, always afraid someone will enter the room and he has to prepare himself for the next blow. He can't remember the last time he has slept, but every time they come to him, he wishes he will finally pass out, get the sleep he hasn't had in so long, if only for a little while.

( @diaryofalanguagesstudent @honey-lets-fucking-run @jo-m-portman-rp @kingofthewebxxx @lonelydragon62

@corinnebaileyrp @theresastargirl @tealeavesandthorns @brokenthimbles )

[panterasnarl]

( okay, hc time. he can't read very well, actually. he's been dead a good bit and never bothered keeping up with reading and when you've fought to live and grow so long, sometimes you just.. forget things. like reading. or reading comprehension, more like. he looks at pictures on menus, gets frustrated playing games because many rely on written instructions, and doesn't own a single book. he's not stupid - he just doesn't think reading's worthwhile when you've spent 200+ years as a big dead panther )

[ryusxnka-moved]

I used to compare Toushiro to a dragon, but nowadays as I've been gradually putting it into my writing, he resonates more, as in withholds similarities, to a Lion. Why? -- It's Because he represents some qualities of what Lions are. -- He's regal, it shows more of that in his matured Bankai form than his current, albeit still existent, with how the Ice only surrounds the lower portion of his limbs, and aloft his shoulders which takes the form of epaulets, a military shoulder piece, to simplify. --- Furthermore, he is valiant, a strategist, and dignified, he holds within him variations of distinct strengths, impeccable leadership, and loyalty towards those he cares for and his Ideas. He is a force not to be underestimated. He may have childlike weaknesses now, as a cub, but once he's fully grown, he will be an immense wall his enemies will loathe. ------- He is the Lion whilst Hyorinmaru is the dragon, and together they will be unstoppable whilst purging the evil imperiling their home. - The last reason is quite evident.- His name means Winter Lion.

[ryusxnka]

Hc: After the winter war finalized in their victory, Hitsugaya had blatantly rejected the idea of Inoue restoring his taken limbs. The ones Aizen had ruthlessly amputated ---- for the sole justification that he did not wish to exploit her any further despite her pleas to assist. --------- In lieu, he requested artificial ones, developed by Kurotsuchi Mayuri with what was at his disposal cognate to Hitsugaya's cells, and blood, necessitated Reishi, and had thereafter been connected, medically so, by Seinosuke Yamada. Unfortunately, the procedure came with permanent complications linked to the nerves, his albinism had embedded supplementary factors, which resulted with the adolescent woefully acquiring a condition known as Hypoesthesia. It is medical term for partial or total loss of sensation in parts of your body. Which is to say that his left arm and leg can scarcely feel pain, temperatures, vibrations, and touch; In whole, there's a lingering numbness. - The benefactor is mostly caused by Nerve Trauma, his cold Reiatsu, and again, his albinism. - He does not feel the warnings of fatal wounds, the tender contact of loved ones, or the frigidity of his Bankai on most of his left side.

   If he feels anything, it would be a discomforting tingling.

[mute-call]

it's now been established in multiple threads that steven has skimmed stock & has a little collection of fazbear branded toys that he just straight up stole. corporate spokespeople can commit little a breaking of the rules. as a treat <3

[hxraya]

Caitlin and Cynthia

Since she was originally from Sinnoh, Caitlin has battled Cynthia in the past and considers her a role model and a great friend. She constantly asks for rematches whenever they meet, hoping that she could beat her one day.

Caitlin "expects" Cynthia to bring such a strong Pokémon to their battle. In one of them, Cynthia states "You've grown my dear Caitlin". To which Caitlin responds with "My heart skips a beat every time we battle."

Some dialogue regarding Cynthia:

"Having everything go your way is the road to disillusionment. Knowing the difference between what's impossible and what's possible... I used to know someone who talked about that a lot. No matter how hard I try, I cannot defeat Cynthia. Before, I would have exploded with rage. Now, I have the tranquility to reflect on my performance to see how I can improve."

"This is my villa. I have villas all over the world, and I allow Cynthia to use them. You are welcome to come and play whenever you wish.""Tell me something. Are you familiar with Battle Castles? You can find them in Johto and Sinnoh, so challenge them to improve yourself.""I used to own Battle Castles. Then I became one of Unova's Elite Four. Will I be a Champion somewhere next? You never know!""Darach is as neat as always. He came all the way to Unova, cleaned the villa, and then went home…""Having no psychic powers at all is better than having psychic powers you can't control."

[sugoallaputtanesca]

( HEY IT'S SINDAY I CAN POST THIS NOW

pepp has a prince albert piercing aka a piercing on the tip of his dick. he got it as a dare from his ex - wife when he was a young man and just kinda. kept it. )

[prxttybxybxstxrd]

🔥 Ivy :3

Alibaba is well known for his preferential treatment of males and Ivy is easily at the top of that list. Just as bratty and spoiled as he is, absolutely adorable and the tightest ass he's ever had the pleasure to gape. Its absolutely no surprise that he would call Ivy his favorite and considers his sugar baby the crown jewel of the harem he actually gives a shit about.

[mayflwr]

thoughts || hc: although lyla's primary uses and functions are for miguel, ie his physical and mental care, the ai also extends it to the other spiders. she understands that being a spider-person can be alot on one's health, and also knows that an out of tune spider can be cataclysmic for the spiderverse as a whole. so, it's partial caring and partial programming.

also, her sunglasses act as a mood ring of sorts, changing color depending of her 'mood', miguel's mood or the mood of hq in general. pink is default, red is anger/warning, blue is sadness/regret, yellow is happiness/joy, etc.

[dontcxckitup]

Headcanon:

// Mallory will buy chocolate bunnies for Easter and wordlessly place them on Moneypenny and Tanner's desks.

[panterasnarl]

( happy sinday! his love language involves a lot of biting and silent Being In Your Way/Space. )

[ryusxnka-moved]

You know, Toushiro's eye color can be characterized as dissimilar shades amongst the spectrum of blues and greens. ---- I personally decided on Teal because it symbolizes individuality, renewal, morality, and practicality. Its negative traits stand as uneasy, edgy, private, and apprehensive whilst its Positive traits stand as broad-minded, welcoming, sympathetic, and logical. ------ Further traits would be standoffish and vigilant, as well as objective, earnest, and controlling. - Depicts him accurately, no?

[heartbreakincident]

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[mute-call]

the idea that phone guy leaves hours-long messages (from 12-2 on night 1 for example). that he’s rambling w filler / other stuff we don’t hear in-game. that to hear the useful information you have to sit through half an hour of him telling you the most random shit

[hxraya]

Rockets who have been in her office know that Executive Ariana owns a sexy priest thirst trap calendar thing hanging at the wall. She doesn’t really need the Calendario Romano since she has a calendar on her phone and on her computer, but she keeps it anyway.

Her excuse it that her mother keeps sending her religious items in her effort to ‘lead her daughter back into the path of good’… but really, she puts it up just for the pictures of handsome priests.