#implied violence

[fanfic-obsessed]

Historical choices

This idea starts on Kamino. Well before the time of the prequels. 

As with all my ideas, ignore any part of canon that contradicts it. 

Tipoca City became the capital of Kamino after the flood. It was never meant to be the Capital city. In fact it was not built to be a city at all. Tipoca was built as a remote research station, long before the flood. It was the first genetic research station for the Kaminoans.  

The very first project…how to prevent Force Sensitivity in their own people. For many reasons, all based on superstition and bigotry, the Kaminoan government decided that having Force sensitivity was undesirable and wanted it stopped.  The initial project, lost to the tides of time, took all the Force Sensitives they could get their hands on (though there were many adults captured, unfortunately Force Sensitive children and babies were easier to source) and began to experiment, with all the horror that that entails. 

By the time the scientists had a ‘breakthrough’ many decades later, everything that subjects endured had sunk into the location, darkening the Force as only that kind of pain and horror can. 

The scientists called it a breakthrough, removing Force Sensitivity from the Kaminoan genetic code and generations later the project had been forgotten, and it is assumed that Kaminoans simply were not Force sensitive. This is not quite true. What those initial scientists did was make Force Sensitivity above a specific threshold, well below the level to actually be considered Force Sensitive, toxic to Kaminoans. 

The funny thing is that after the genetic treatments to ‘remove’ force sensitivity, miscarriages among the Kaminoan population (which at that point was still reproducing, not cloning) shot through the roof, often including the death of the mother/carrier (I have no idea what the Kaminoans called the egg producer). At the same time the Force is not simply in sentients, it is also a vital part of the lifeblood of the planet.  There is a careful balance that the Force maintains which was utterly fucked by the mass death, and continued death, of any Force Sensitive Kaminoan.  While the connection is never made, these imbalances are the cause for the global warming that eventually floods the planet, also the violent frequent storms.  It is this and the birth rate issue that caused the Kaminoans to start cloning and genetic experiments to survive (All the while they kept including the genetic code that turned Force Sensitivity toxic). 

Even as their reputation as cloners grew, they never cloned sentients other than themselves (And there were no Force sensitive Kaminoans now). So they never realized that The Force on Kamino (in particular Tipoca City, but across the planet) had grown dark, violent, and feral. It is noted that animals cloned on Tipoca city tend to be more aggressive than normal, but that is not really noticeable given the contracts they were getting.

Not until the cloning of Jango Fett begins.  The Clones are near human and, though Jango Fett is not particularly Force sensitive, they are the first sentients since the treatment was completed for whom being touched by the Force was not lethal (since the Kaminoans no longer remember that the particular piece of genetic code was artificial, then never think to add it to the Fett clones).  The Force on Kamino curls around the clones, it loves them with desperation and the long lasting memory of the last time its children walked the surface. The Force ensures that every Fett clone is Force sensitive. 

To the trainers and Jango Fett there are a number of spots on Tipoca City that feel…deeply haunted. The more superstitious refuse to enter some of the oldest parts of the city, including where the growth tubes are located (no one is left alive to know but the growth tubes are placed in the oldest labs, where the subjects of the first scientist endured horrors beyond imagining).  

To be clear, the Force on Kamino is of the dark side. It is corrupted.  It is suffering and horror and despair leaching like poison into groundwater. It is a beaten, hurting animal biting anyone who comes close to prevent being hurt again. It is a feral thing that can not distinguish between friend and foe. And the Clones belong to it. 

This comes to a head when the majority of the CC batches are six.  One of the trainers spits out that the Jedi would also think the clones were just useless meat droids. And the Force on Kamino may have been a feral thing, a thing of suffering,  but it was also connected to the rest of the Force and it knew that the Jedi would love its children. 

It whispered this to the children, curling around them. One of the children, who would one day be Fox, glared up at the trainer and spat out that the trainer was lying.  The trainer, reacting more to the tone than the words, struck CC-1010. 

The Force on Kamino reacted. It had suffered the trainers to live because they were making it’s children strong. There had been no decommissioning or reconditionings because the Force was working to ensure its children performed exactly as they should.  But now the trainer had hurt one of its children, and not for training, but for speaking.  The barely leashed violence broke free and roared through the clones. The clones, empowered and driven by the Dark, this vicious protective energy built of the suffering from long before, took the city. It did not matter that the oldest of them were barely physically 8. Within 4 hours there were not any trainers left in Tipoca City (Jango Fett had been off planet on a bounty). Within 6 hours there were no Kaminoans either.  Within three days the Clones were the sole living sentients on Kamino.

Jango Fett came back three weeks after that to a very changed landscape. He is allowed to land because Boba (the toddler that he still is) does consider him a father.  The children, and they are all still children, have not eaten anything solid in two weeks (The Force is sustaining them, also the Force does not know what are good child rearing practices for near humans-it has existed long enough that it can’t even really tell the difference between child and adult in near humans).  The clones are now clearly something OTHER and very unsettling besides, but they all call him dad and he gets the creeping sensation that Jango was not allowed to deny them (Very much ‘oh no these ARE your children (threat)’).  The Force start playing with Clone ages (trying to figure out the best age for each clone to be for ‘their’ Jedi, the Kamino Force is invested in the Clones getting whatever they want and knows some Jedi will love the Clones dearly). 

Jango makes it another 6 months before he ‘sneaks’ away to make a panicked call to the Jedi Temple (He knows he screwed up), trying to make it their problem instead of his. Prior to this he made several attempts to call Dooku but none went through. He is chased down and told that The Force (called Buir/Protector by the Clones) allowed him this far because it knew that he would call the Jedi, but that it is time to return home now. 

There was a wandering Jedi, Master Faye, closer so she came to Kamino and was immediately given the feeling that she would care for the clones or else.  The Force on Kamino is still a wild, feral thing and the Clones are that much more aggressive for their connection to it. However the innocence of the clone children, now that they are not being trained for war any longer, has also been bringing balance back to the Force on Kamino. As they behave as children do, they have begun to drain away the leftover suffering, bringing light back to the Force. 

Some of the storms have even begun to ebb. 

It is still a bit of a horror show that Jedi now have to deal with, also children (who may be more than a little eldritch) who committed at least one Genocide. But there is hope.

[coulsart]

SUNHINGED OUT OF CONTEXT DOODLES YOURE WELCOME

[pizzpizzapizzo]

justifiable homicide

[pianokantzart]

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[rt-closetcryptic]

✨Have a very misadventure✨

[jellyvibes710]

I updated baby Leo's markings, he will look like #2 from now on

Also TW ⚠️BLOOD⚠️

So Little chirp is cute, right? he's got the "no brain", he's clumsy, he chirps, he's squishy, he's just a lil baby 💖

But he's still LEO, he's the faceman, he manipulates and plays people like cards, He knows how to put on an act to get the reaction he wants, he knows people better than the back of his own hand.

But just because he's now a baby don't mistake him for weak

He is FAR from it :]

<not cannon to AU, at least some of it>

<honestly I just wanted to draw his new marks all glowy, plus I wanted to draw him mad at something.>

Donnie has definitely influenced him

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Okay wait so dream had a vision of the future kinda like what shattered dream had and tried to change the future is that what happened?

Dream: my eyelights Nightmare: the villagers are giving us a lot of stuff. it's nice. Dream: my eyelights. Nightmare: i like your new eyelights. Dream: please keep yours. Nightmare: …I'll try?

Villager: Dream, I need to talk to you. Dream: oh! is this about your dislike of my brother or your house burning down? i heard about it. that must've really sucked :) busy lately? Villager: uh- yeah. My sister was terribly injured in the fire, so we need apples for her recovery.

Villager: my mommy told me to give you this Dream: thank you, Charlie. tell your mom i said hi. Villager: it's a pie. Dream: thank you. Villager: she says your brother is a bad person and should be executed. i think i agree, 'cuz he's really scary. Dream: he's really nice. you should be nice to him. Villager: oh. okay! he's still really scary though.

Prophecy Nightmare: HEY. Dream: AAAAAA-

Villagers: "Are you okay?" "Dream, can I get an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Can I have an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?"

Nightmare: are you gonna sleep tonight? Dream: no Nightmare: did i- do something wrong-? Dream: no Nightmare: are you okay? Dream: no Dream: yes

Prophecy Nightmare: LYING TO YOUR BRO? COLD. Dream: god damn it

[quikyu]

I’d forgive her. She’s got a funny hat

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumptober 2023

No. 15 “I’m fine.” | No. 17 “Leave me alone.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (platonic, pre-relationship)

Setting: Post Prison/Pre Alexandria

Warnings: Animal bite, Injury, Illness, TWD Violence

“Thanks,” you muttered while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You extended the bottle out to Glenn but he shook his head. 

“Try to get Daryl to drink when he gets back.” You cast him a curious look but he only smiled and shuffled forward to catch up with Maggie. 

The sun was beating down violently on your little group, no reprieve from the clutches of its heat. Just like yesterday. Just like the day before. The bushes rustled to your left, but you were too weary to be afraid. You simply rolled your head toward the sound and watched Daryl emerge from the foliage. You gave him a quick once over as he fell in stride beside you but saw no injuries and also no kill to call dinner. 

“You okay?” You offered the water bottle, but he pushed it back to you. 

“M’fine.”

“I haven’t seen you take a single sip in two days, Daryl.” You were trying to scold but your voice only sounded dry and tired. 

“You need it. Lil Asskicker needs it.” Right on cue, the baby on Carl’s back began to fuss. You glanced behind you where Sasha and Michonne were bringing up the rear. The group of walkers were still a ways back but if you stopped, it wouldn’t take them long to catch up. 

Your attention was brought back to Daryl when he stumbled, hissing through his teeth before getting his balance. You said nothing but watched him carefully. He was slightly favoring his right leg. While you could see no blood, you did notice that the red rag that usually hung from his back pocket was wrapped around his shin, just above his boot. 

“Daryl.” You called to him carefully when he looked up from his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He grunted in reply, and his gaze dropped again. “Are you hurt?” He grunted again. “That’s not an answer.”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” The archer looked over at you, one eye closed and the other squinted. “Ain’t a big deal.” 

Before you could press him on it, Rick called out for everyone to stop at a bridge. It was time to handle the walkers. 

It didn’t take long. Not a single person was injured and you were back on the road. Daryl was in front of you now, and you were watching him like a hawk. Other than a slight limp, he seemed okay. No better or worse than anyone else right now. 

The group had stopped to rest once the scorching sun had lowered, and Daryl had disappeared to hunt. With a nod to Carol, you ducked away past the bushes to join him. You weren’t great at tracking but he hadn’t been gone long and you had learned a thing or two from him. 

It didn’t take you long to spot him. There was a small cabin that looked like it had been abandoned since before the dead rose. Daryl was standing next to a tree close to the structure, leaning his shoulder against it. You smiled, and quickened your pace until you noticed his crossbow was on the ground at his feet. His right boot wasn’t touching the ground, and he was bent at the waist with his eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched. 

“Daryl?” You called out but he didn’t respond. He was sweating and pale, and as you neared, the smell of sick lingered in the air. “Hey, are you okay?” You placed your hand on his bicep once you were close enough. The archer reacted violently, catching your wrist and slamming your back against the tree with his hunting knife at your throat. Had he really not heard you approaching? His breaths came hard and fast. Those pretty blue eyes of his were filled with pain and anger. “It’s me, Daryl.” 

You watched recognition set in, and he released you with a huff. “The hell ya followin’ me fer?” You let your gaze follow him as he replaced his knife and reached for the crossbow. On the ground, near the weapon, was a puddle of vomit. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Daryl, what’s wrong with you?” You pushed away from the tree and jogged to cut him off. “Really.”

“Leave me ‘lone!” He made to go around you, but you moved to stay in his path. 

“You sick?” He tried the other way with the same results. “Hurt?” He growled deep in his throat, closing his eyes in what appeared to be restraint. You weren’t sure that was really the case. 

“Jus’ lay off, would ya?” He snapped harshly. You reeled, face contorting in anger, but just as you opened your mouth, Daryl’s eyes widened. He listed to the side, crashing hard onto his left knee and began to retch violently. With nothing in his stomach, he only managed to bring up a small amount of bile throughout the ordeal. 

“Daryl!” You grabbed hold of his shoulders just in time to stop him from keeling over into the mess. Falling back onto your ass, you managed to pull the man up against your stomach. He was panting with his eyes screwed shut. “Daryl, what’s going on? The truth.”

It took a moment but the archer finally managed to open one eye and seemed to study you before you felt him simply deflate in your hold. “Snake bit.” You quickly glanced at that old rag around his lower leg. 

“You moron, that’s serious! You could die!” Your hand connected roughly with the front of his shoulder but then held him fast where he was when he tried to struggle away. 

“Ain’t gon’ die. S’jus’ a copperhead.” He tried to sit up again and this time you let him. He nodded gratefully once he was shoulder to shoulder with you. “Got bit ‘fore, when I’s ‘bout 10. It won’ kill me but it’ll suck fer a day or two.”

You stared at him, not sure what you were feeling. You were angry that he had hidden this from the group, from you. You were worried that he was or would become dehydrated or the wound would be infected, both were very likely and equally as dangerous. You were sad that he would rather suffer alone than worry anyone even when he was in such a state. 

“Quit starin’ at me like tha’. Told ya, I’ll be fine.”

You nodded, looking down at your boots. You had to think of something. Daryl simply couldn’t keep going like this, disappearing ‘in search of water and food’ when he really just needed a break. You glanced at him again, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted toward the sky. His expression was riddled with pain, even though he was trying not to show it. You knew better. 

Over his shoulder, you saw the little cabin. It wasn’t the ideal solution but maybe one you could make work. “You cleared that yet?”

Daryl followed your gaze and shook his head. “Nah. Didn’ have a chance ‘fore my stomach crawled outta my throat.”

“Wait here.” 

“The hell ya doin’, Y/N?”

You pulled your knife from the sheath on your thigh and marched toward the structure. “Solving a couple of problems.”

The cabin had been blessedly void of walkers. It was small but large enough to shelter your family from the sun for at least a day or two. It was easy enough to talk Rick into stopping the fruitless march toward nothing. At least the group could stay put while you took care of Daryl, under the guise of being out for the night to hunt. 

He had been surprisingly pliant when you dragged him away. Finding a spot to camp for the night was simple. Far enough away for members not to venture in search of you, yet close enough to run for help if things got worse. You had taken all of the water that could be spared, leaving enough for the proper care of Judith and Carl. You hated leaving so little for the adults, but Daryl would surely die without it, closer than anyone to dehydration with the excess sweating and vomiting. 

You sat next to his outstretched leg, carefully pouring the smallest amount of water over the two punctures he had finally let you take a look at. Just to the right of his shin, the wound was swollen and angry, more in thanks to the venom than to infection. If you could manage to keep it clean, you could probably avoid that. 

You taped a square of gauze over the bite, thankful that you had at least that in your own bag. Keeping it covered was best for the time being. It could get air when the venom wasn’t doing a number on the archer. 

You worried about tissue damage, but that was a bridge you’d have to cross when you came to it. For now, keeping him alive was the most important thing. 

“Drink.” You titled the canteen against his lips, holding fast to his chin with the other hand when he tried to turn away. 

“The kid—”

“Has enough. I promise. I wouldn’t have taken it if it meant she or Carl had to do without.” He seemed to accept that, parting his lips for the smallest of swallows. You wished you had more and didn’t have to be so greedy with each offering. He had taken the ibuprofen you had managed to nab out of Michonne’s bag. That should provide a bit of relief from the pain while aiding in the reduction of the inflammation. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. 

“You should get some rest.” You placed your back against the tree, shoulder to shoulder with him. He didn’t look very comfortable but it wasn’t unlike Daryl to sleep sitting up. Sometimes, you think he preferred it. Regardless, he was sick and in pain, so you tried to make him as comfortable as possible. “Why don’t you lay on my lap?”

Daryl opened one eye and rolled his head toward you, blinking away the sweat that burned and obstructed his vision. You thought he might argue or turn you down flat, but he instead shifted with a groan and pillowed his head on your thighs. A true testament to how horrible he was feeling. 

“Better?” You questioned quietly, running your fingers through his damp hair. He hummed, his eyes once again closed. You could see the way they pinched at the outer corners and wished you could do something more for the pain. He’d been bitten while trying to find food and water for your group; trying to take care of everyone else. Always putting himself last. 

There was a content sigh that brought you from your thoughts. You hadn’t realized that you had begun to scratch and knead his scalp, but the way he seemed to melt against you ensured that you continued. His shallow breaths evened out and deepened after a few more moments, an indicator that he was finally giving his body the rest it so desperately needed. 

He would be okay. You knew that now. But if you could offer him some comfort and peace for just one night, you’d massage his scalp until your fingers bled. Daryl, rough around the edges and tough as nails, would bend over backwards to ensure the safety of each one of you. Anyone in the group would do the same for him if he’d allow it. But he didn’t. He chose to suffer in silence until you stumbled across him and forced his hand. 

But he’d allowed you into his space and trusted you enough to fall into a deep, healing sleep while you watched over him. He would be safe and cared for, and you’d make sure he knew that he could depend on this— on you — and drop his walls. He could let you in and be vulnerable. 

You’d be damned if you’d take that for granted. 

[hajihiko]

remember that old story about watermelons and human heads being the same density

[afloofwithmultipleinterests]

Somewhere, In An Alternate Spooky Month Universe . . . Something more fluffy happened within the household of Lila and skid upon Bob's escape from police custody and enevitable revenge. . .

"Bringing A Feather To a Knife Fight" (Part 1)

Lee!(?)Bob Velseb

Ler!(?)Lila

[robanilla-arts]

Badsansuary Day 3: Sharp

event by @owl-bones

this took me a while- but I'm VERY proud of it! :D look!!! hands!!!

[whalesharkstho]

pov: ur best friend and partner in crime beats u to death on top of a mountain

[popfizzles]

Thanks for all the kind words about Hawthorne!! I'm sure he appreciates it just as much as I do :D

As for [that one specific headshot,] it was mostly to show off what his eyes looked like fully closed, and it just seemed like the kind of expression he'd make. But I do like the idea of Hawthorne adopting my real-life trait of being prone to migraines.

Maybe that's why he likes the basement so much <:)?...

[childesglove]

Did You Cheat On Me? Revenge Taste Bitter

Summary: Childe thought you had cheated on him and he decided he was going to take revenge, even if it hurts both of you. PS: Nobody cheated so don’t worry

Part 2

Warnings: Angst with comfort, Hurt, Implied Violence, Reader has anxiety attack, not proof read, verbal abuse, a lot of screaming

____________________________________________________

“Tell me, who is that man?” Childe yanked your arms towards him harshly making you fall towards him, “ did you cheat on me?” His face was contorted in a fiery rage, there was this coldness in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head, confused and offended that Childe would even ask you this. Did he think this lowly of you?

“Don’t.You.Lie.” Childe’s hands were balled into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white before he suddenly hit the wall beside you with a loud thud. You jolted as your eyes widened in shock and fear, you did not understand what was going on and you never saw Childe acting this.. violently around you.

“What the fuck? Childe what the hell was that..” you raised your voice but he cut you off, “ you unfaithful bitch, I’ll make you regret this.” With that, he slammed the door shut leaving you alone.

The next few days was pure hell.

You lost your job. When your Ex is a harbinger, there’s nothing much you can really do when he decided he’s going to ruin your life. All the years you spent studying, fighting for your dream were all like a joke now.

“Ajax, can we-“ you stepped into his office but was brought into an abrupt halt when you saw him holding another women. Your fingers trembled as you clutched the strap of your bag tightly, you stood there frozen as your eyes met his.

He was smiling.

There was a spark of satisfaction that danced like fire in his eyes, his lips twisted into a slight smirk.His smile dropped when he saw a single tear slipped out of your eye.

Your breath hitched, unsure of where to look as more tears start to escape. You felt like you can’t breath, you knew that familiar feeling.

An incoming anxiety attack. Something you have not experienced since you got together with Ajax. Because he’s always there to tell you everything is okay, hush you to sleep when you’re trembling and shaking.

The man that made you forget pain taught you what betrayal felt like today.

You felt disgusting.

Childe gaze lingered on your back as you left, he did this out of spite but there was no sense of satisfaction, the taste of revenge felt bitter and awful.

With a sudden, violent motion, he swept his arm across the table, sending his books flying in all directions. “ Get the fuck out.”

The fatui subordinate, who disguised as his new girlfriend, scrambled and quickly took her bag and left quickly.

Part 2 coming soon

[choctalksalot]

strifin with the homies

casual suicide mention underneath

endlessly funny to me the idea that god tier death-revival heals your injuries just damn i got a paper cut? well shit it's all gone fuckin pear shaped-