#What happened here was very specific to them

[bonefall]

how much of Stormpaw’s demon are Maple’s curse vs just things that happen (cause in canon it’s really vague about whether Maple causes all those tragedies or has the ability to see his future for some reason)

EVERYTHING that happens in Stormpaw's Demon involves her. It's not being so dramatically renamed for nothing, she's a major driver and cause of the plot! Crookedstar's young name is in the title; but really, his demon is driving the misfortune.

That said... It's been a while and I'm heavily considering retooling the narrative.

Since I last REALLY worked on it, BB has changed in the sense that I'm a lot more willing to alter canon than I used to be. While my driving mindset used to be "telling a better version of the original story," and that IS a value I still hold... I've lost patience with the misogyny within the original work.

I've spoken at length about the way Crookedstar's Promise grinds my gears (PLEASE follow this link for a full breakdown of why), but in summary; it desperately tries to keep every male character likeable when they shouldn't be, saying nothing about the fact they are complicit in or even enabling abuse, while giving Crookedstar TWO flatly evil maternal figures. Even Brambleberry, who's heavily praised for being "like a mom instead," has a weird moment where she starts giving Crookedjaw the cold shoulder because she finds out he's chatting with a demon.

So like... I'm not sure if I want to make the "better version" of that story. That was the one that I already had, which had Mapleshade be acting entirely out of just the malice of wanting to hurt a child, while Hailstar and Shellheart are the excellent people canon wanted to see them as.

(not that it's even a BAD super edition, it's actually a really good one, but if it's my kitchen that's not what we cook here. Man I really do always massively overhaul my favorite SEs LMAO)

I think, specifically, I want to make Mapleshade slightly more morally gray and Hailstar more of an enabler. Shellheart is getting significantly retooled to make him more of the heartwarming parental figure I think he should be; someone loving to help balance out a very heavy rework.

And of course Brambleberry, I'm going to tweak her some. Try to make her flaws more consistent, get rid of that odd cold shoulder moment.

Old regulars will remember an old AU which is also still a massive favorite of mine; it was called Better Call Mapleshade, and it was kind of a commentary on how an environment can shape a person. Mapleshade, as a demon in heaven, was essentially their best prosecutor and defense attorney.

You can actually see how a lot of ideas from that AU ended up in Better Bones with the expanded trial system! I'm thinking of taking another page out of it, by making Mapleshade more aware of "the game" of Clan culture's structural unfairness, while also using it like a weapon against people she wants to hurt. A powerful demon of revenge.

Under the cut, what won't be changing, the way it was, and Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon.

(MASSIVE CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CHILD ABUSE including ableism. BB!Rainflower is WORSE than canon.)

WHAT WON'T BE CHANGING;

These are major details of Stormpaw's Demon that are different from canon. I'm working with these as givens and won't be changing between drafts.

Mapleshade does have a bone to pick with Appledusk's lineage specifically. One option might make her more discerning when it comes to her targets, but no matter what, she is going to have her eyes on this bloodline. She Haunts Applekin.

Rainflower is Hailstar's deputy. And I will make her downfall spectacular. If you were worried I was going to make her more sympathetic then you have no idea who I am LMAO

Shellheart is not Crookedstar's biofather While I want Hailstar to maybe be worse; I do want to fix Shellheart by making him a good parent. I've decided a good way to do this is to make it that Shellheart adopts Storm AFTER he's been abused by Rainflower. He didn't have authority over him before then. In general, I do want him to have a bigger positive role in this narrative. DEPENDING ON WHICH VERSION: Oakheart might also not be his bio-brother.

Crookedjaw is not a cruel name; it's an Honor Title. I've ALWAYS been frustrated by how canon treats scars and injuries as bad things. It's a BATTLE culture. Surviving brushes with death is their WHOLE THING. There is no "crookedkit" or "crookedpaw," he was Stormpaw until he earned his warrior name, with "Crookedjaw" commending the massive lengths he's gone to in order to survive, adapt, and honor StarClan.

Mentor change: Goodbye Cedarpelt, hello Magpiesky! I decided to repurpose one of the Barn Cats! Magpie from the books is a daughter of Perchshine-- the cat who killed Mapleshade. She joined RiverClan long ago. She's actually the one who points him in the way of the barn, and has to train him "as a punishment for teaching him disobedience" when he comes back. I actually have a couple of minor reasons for making this change but I'll spare them for now. He might start with Cedarpelt, but then run to the barn when Cedarpelt is basically refusing to train him properly.

Some family tree shuffles I need to update this tree to show Crookedstar's new situation with Shellheart (and also reflect some other changes I made like confirming Hallowflight fully being Lizardtail's honor title and Robinpaw being the apprentice who gets eaten by Ripwater), BUT, overall this tree is solid.

The ableism Storm faces is going to have a different flavor I have built BB in a way where him surviving his injury would be very respected, but he'd get badly coddled and pushed into early retirement. Him running to the barn is because he suspects he wouldn't have gotten training otherwise.

He kills a fox there because it's Cool. I might give him the tail to wear as a trophy of the kill because that's also Cool. The fox was very old and feeble at that point, which was why it was attacking chickens, but shhh

The Way It Was (Very Evil Mapleshade)

Darkstar's Commandment creating the Queen's Rights, that no queen would ever have to reveal the other parent of their kittens, wasn't enough to appease Mapleshade.

Nor was the damning of everyone that Mapleshade killed. In a fit of irrational fury at all the death, StarClan sent all her victims into the Dark Forest.

But she can't chase them. In the Dark Forest, you don't see someone unless you WANT to see them, not unless you're hanging out in a "land mar" (a sort of personal hell that all demons get).

on the off-chance she does see them, Frecklewish usually rips her to shreds...

Which is the next problem.

You can't DIE in the Dark Forest if you're a demon. You poof back into existence the next day, no injuries, no scars, nothing.

she's bored.

And vengeful. In spite of the wrong being righted, she still thinks she deserves MORE revenge, because what she wanted was really Appledusk.

She finds it unfair that HER legacy is snuffed out, that it's Darkstar's Commandment and not hers, that her babies were destined for greatness and by extension SHE should have been great.

So she takes up a hobby in tormenting Appledusk's descendants. She wants to eradicate them completely, but is spiteful enough that she'll just settle with hurting them.

The first one she managed to kill was Applefrost, Reedshine's son. Just by accident. She didn't know she had such power over the mortal plane.

After that, she managed to drown Duskwater. The daughter.

But she couldn't wipe out HER daughter in that storm... and she brought two more Applekin children into the world.

Stormkit and Oakkit.

So, naturally, Mapleshade turned her sight on the little fuzzball.

He would be an easy kill, in theory. She smashed Stormkit's jaw on the rock, but Oakkit pulled him out.

From there, it's similar to canon for a bit. His recovery is long and painful.

Rainflower is disgusted, and wants absolutely no part of helping him through this process.

That wasn't an injury gained in battle-- it's because he's careless and didn't listen to her. He's going through all this suffering, and for what?

To never become a warrior?

She's cruel to him, begins to neglect and distance herself from him. Discourages him from suckling.

Mapleshade LOVES this. It's worse than she could have imagined. Rainflower is horrible.

Gleefully, she realizes that Stormkit dying now is what Rainflower wants.

So, she kills two other kits in the nursery.

Fallowtail's only survivor is Willowkit, so she has plenty of milk. She starts suckling Stormkit.

(Graypool is now an older sibling! She's actually an apprentice at this time! Later, she encourages Willowkit to visit their father, who decides to just kidnap them completely)

Eventually, being the deputy, Rainflower had some kind of conversation with Hailstar.

During that conversation, she asked him to do something very cruel to Crookedkit.

And Hailstar LOST IT

He's the successor of Volestar, who was appointed by Darkstar herself to uphold the Queen's Rights and protect children.

How DARE you try to turn RiverClan into a place of disrespect?? To use my power this way?!

So, her power was stripped, and Oakkit and Stormkit were taken from her.

From there, Storm eventually goes to the barn as discussed, and Mapleshade continues to do things to hurt him.

This was my first draft, and now having thought about it a lot, I feel like it's not super cohesive. A demonic Mapleshade who's entirely malicious is neat, but I feel like this makes her flat. Shellheart's not tied in super well either, and Hailstar's stand feels kind of hollow because Rainflower hasn't actually used or leveraged the new authority I've given her.

But most egregiously? Rainflower's abuse being so close to canon tastes kind of bland. I feel like I can make it sooo much more intense, complicated, and painful.

Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon (Demon of Revenge Update) Essentially an outline for the first few chapters establishing Mapleshade by dealing with Rainflower and then fragments for the rest.

Mapleshade's still malicious, but this time, there's more to it.

Darkstar's Commandment, and the damning of her victims, DID appease this Mapleshade.

But is she satisfied? No.

She doesn't feel like she was wrong at all, actually. Without her killing those three in revenge for her kittens, StarClan's anger probably would have subsided.

She can't hunt her victims down again though, because, they don't want to see her. She fights Frecklewish every now and then but what's the point?

She WON already. She already GOT the euphoria of dragging them all down with her.

Punishing everyone who had ever wronged her was the highlight of her existence... but now it's done.

She's in Hell and she's bored. Her punishment is never seeing her kits again, but more importantly, her punishment is eternal shuffling through the leaf litter when she's SO GOOD at getting revenge.

Problem with revenge is, when you get it, it's gone.

She probably messed with Duskwater and Applefrost a bit, but if she killed one of them, it was accidental. It made her realize that revenge without a motive is just boring.

The prologue would probably open up with establishing her as a character. Who she is, what she wants.

Because the first chapter would dive RIGHT IN to Stormkit. The only child of Rainflower, the deputy.

Right along with Stormkit, you only learn in hindsight that he was born in a storm that killed his grandmother. It's clear that Rainflower reminds him of this often.

And that she's nasty to him. Giving him unclear instruction and finding things to critique, telling him to jump and then barking at him that he didn't ask how high.

She has great expectations for him, and reminds him of their family lineage often. Of who killed his great-grandfather, of what a fantastic pair of warriors Applefrost and Duskwater were

"I lost everything the night you were born. You'd better be able to make up for it."

Unfortunately, Stormkit is not the sort of child who's good at listening to those sorts of orders. He's stubborn and defiant; angry and oppositional.

When he doesn't understand why you do something, he doesn't want to do it

He "embarrasses" her a lot, and gets hurt for it.

In public, these are swats and whacks. The things you're "allowed" to do to discipline your child. In private these are a lot more severe.

So when Stormkit is given an order or a command, he obeys completely out of fear rather than respect. And sometimes he forgets his fear.

The other cats in RiverClan? Well... Stormkit is a problem child, and Rainflower is a fantastic, organized, respected deputy.

Hailstar especially, unfortunately. He feels bad... for Rainflower.

"It must be so hard for her to have such a little brat as a son. He never seems to learn his lesson. When will he stop wandering off? What's wrong with him? He certainly didn't get that from her."

His best friend, Oakkit, gets in the SAME trouble he does.

He's mischievous, fearless, and outgoing, and... never gets punished for it.

There's times where Oakkit does something and Stormkit physically recoils, just imagining what Rainflower would do if HE did something like that. Especially in how Oakkit talks to his dad, Shellheart.

For example, Shellheart will come to get his son for suckling time and Oakkit will tell him to his face things like, "I don't want to! I'm HAVING FUN!"

and shellheart doesn't flip out. He just. explains why it's important to eat on time.

"I know. But Fallowtail wants to go have fun too! She's waiting for you to come and suckle so she can go play."

"Well why can't she just play now and I suckle later?"

"When a suckler is full of milk, it makes their belly very itchy. She's uncomfortable when you don't come and eat on time."

"nnnh"

"Tough sell? How about I sweeten the pile with a badger ride back?"

"Hm. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Dad."

Stormkit doesn't know why he hates it. He's all angry inside when he sees them acting friendly. He's polite because Oakkit's his best friend and Mr. Shellheart is really nice, but he just...

He's too young at the time to know he's envious. He wants what Oakkit has so badly it hurts.

Sometime after an exchange like that, Stormkit is visited by Mapleshade for the first time.

And they talk about Stormkit's anger and resentment. Stormkit lets it slip that he HATES his Mi.

Waits for Mapleshade to stop him and tell him, like everyone else does, that "she's still your mother."

...but she doesn't.

Besides Oakkit and Shellheart, she's the first person who doesn't tell him that.

She just lets him talk. Lets him go on. Starts making nasty jabs, which make him laugh.

"She says she lost everything the day I was born!!"

"What?! That's crazy! She got you that day!"

"Right?! It's like she's saying I'm nothing! Maybe she SHOULD lose everything, then she'd know what she's got!"

And then she asks, "Do you want her to die?"

Suddenly, there's a chill in the air. He's really shocked by the suggestion of that. He didn't... he didn't mean it to go THAT far. That's not what he meant... is it?

But she's fading back into the shadows, just her eyes visible in the dark. Tells him that she can see he's unsure. That's ok.

Holds up a budding sprig of sycamore, the maple she's named for. Its buds grow in a "deer hoof," with one large bud in the middle and two "toes" sprouting on its sides.

Teaches him that if he needs someone in his corner, all he has to do is call.

(to summon her, a bud is plucked off the sprig and thrown in the river.)

He wakes up with the sprig in his paw, panics, and shoves it under the nest he shares with his mother.

The experience shakes him. He probably ran to Brambleberry for the first time, who explains very seriously that he was contacted by a demon.

From the description... Mapleshade. The cat who killed his great-grandfather.

He BEGS her not to tell Rainflower. PLEADS with her. He can barely hear her already saying yes under the throbbing sound of his heart in his ears.

When he calms down, he hears her saying yes. On the condition she will need to smoke the nursery with sage and cedar, and that he will be needing a bath as well.

When he's still concerned that Rainflower will question him, she makes a plan to distract her for a day, long enough for him to do his cleanse and the smell to fade.

And, of course, that he will not follow any instructions that Mapleshade left him. He agrees. But does not tell Brambleberry about the sprig.

For a while he's very "well behaved." But it's not about him, never has been.

It really doesn't take long at all for Rainflower to get worse. Kids who are defiant like that are usually exercising a defense mechanism-- if they're not aggressive about their boundaries, their limits are pushed to a breaking point.

And after a big blowout like this, which was probably a public spectacle, Stormkit runs back to his nest and digs out the sprig, runs to the river, and throws a bud in the river.

Having calmed down from his shuddering fury, the dread begins to set in as a dead-smelling wind ruffles his fur. He can't help but feel like he just did something very stupid out of anger.

Looking at his reflection, he sees no cuts or swelling. The blows weren't "bad enough." He doesn't have the kind of injuries that anyone would do anything about. Equal parts guilt and frustration swell in him like a tide at full moon. How could he be sitting here wishing she hurt him worse?

So he tries to soften it, "I don't want her to die, I just, I... I just want her to lose everything like she says. Please..."

The wind whispers in his ear, "it will get worse before it gets better."

"I can handle that," he sobs, "I can do anything. Please. Make it stop."

After that, Oakkit probably runs to come find him. Stormkit doesn't want to be found. He makes up a childish plan, on the spot, to run away and join ThunderClan.

Oak says that's mousebrained, but Storm has DEVOTED himself to this plan he made just now.

And is crossing the stones.

Oak sighs, but if Storm's going to ThunderClan, he should really go with him because then they could totally fight off a small fox (Childish hubris)

Unfortunately, Rainflower found them. asks Exactly What He's Doing.

The kids freeze. Stormkit in particular has that horrible, twisting anxiety that you get when you hear The Tone that means you're in for an absolute wallop when you get home.

He's about to start running, but then the voice tickles his ear-fur again. Mapleshade tells him to go back. It'll be ok. She's on his side. She'll make her pay.

Oakkit is still frozen in place when, as if possessed, Storm's body stiffly returns to his mother.

There's a silence. The river trickling through the stepping stones. Storm looking with fear and anger up at her.

She's waiting for an apology, groveling. He doesn't give her one.

So she raises her paw and gives him an awful, hard blow.

His little body twists, flung off balance, trying to correct himself, and he can swear he felt paws pushing him a second time, whipping him downwards.

The feeling of falling fills his stomach, the water sloshes into his ears before there's a ring of a sound like CLUNK-CRUNCH, and then the river floods his nose and mouth.

It all goes dark.

When he wakes up, it's with a throbbing pain in the side of his jaw so intense that he can feel it all the way down in the tip of his tail. He learns from Brambleberry that Oakkit rescued him-- jumped right into the water to pull him out. And then Rainflower pulled him out. That was when Shellheart came and found them.

There's a LOT of arguing outside, but Storm can't ask what it is because it hurts to move his mouth at all. Brambleberry hushes and soothes him, telling him it's nothing he needs to know about.

(MEDICAL INFODUMPING: i do actually have a medical reason I want his injury to come from someone hitting him which causes him to fall. The injury he'd get in canon would actually be a really simple and common split in the front of the mandible, which wouldn't cause his mouth to have a dramatic twist and would heal very easily. He needs to come down on the rock at an angle to shatter the joint like that.)

From here, the tune about Stormkit starts to change.

Oakkit was distraught when they got back, telling everyone that Rainflower smashed him against a rock.

Rainflower's story is that he was running, and she chased after him. EVERYONE knows that he has a habit of doing this.

Then HE slipped and fell and hit his face on the rocks. His fault.

Oakkit was running away with him, he's lying.

Shellheart is FEROCIOUSLY taking the side of his son, furious that she would imply he raised a liar.

Hailstar is taking the side of Rainflower. It's two troublemaking kits against his deputy.

Yes, Rainflower's disciplined him before, but that's no indication she'd do something like this on purpose.

Brambleberry weighs in that the injury that Stormkit has isn't the sort of injury a kitten gets from hitting his jaw. The bone is shattered.

probably does some kind of visual to go along with it, using a stick and a stone

"The bones of a kitten are like the young shoots of a tree. When they fracture," she takes a young twig and snaps it in her paws. The fibers in the center are bent but unbroken, with the bark splintered around them, "they flay but don't snap."

She places the stick on the ground, "So for the injury that Stormkit has," and violently smashes the rock down onto it. It's shattered and pulped, the fibers flattened, "there would need to be a great force."

Shellheart hisses, saying that THIS is the evidence. Oakkit's story is consistent but Rainflower HAS to have lied.

Several cats are now on his side.

...But more are on Rainflower's.

"She's his mother. She loves him. Oakkit has to be mistaken."

"Why would she chase down her own son just to smash his face on a stone?"

"She wouldn't pull them out of the river if she really wanted to hurt him!"

Hailstar prompts if there's ANYTHING else that could explain this?

It comes up that Brambleberry cleansed the dens the other day.

She says that it's possible there is a demon's influence at work. She can't know for sure which one it is-- but it may have a grudge against Rainflower.

She allows them to reach the conclusion that it's probably Mapleshade on their own. She will be talking to Crookedkit when he's able, but she's not about to tell anyone about his dream yet.

She doesn't want him to have the extra scrutiny when he needs to rest and heal, but if she'd shared that an unnamed cat had a demonic dream, it would set off panic as cats accused each other of dark magic.

Rainflower manages to escape consequences by pointing out that it was likely Mapleshade that injured her son.

Oakkit is still trying to tell everyone SHE did it, he SAW it, Stormkit walked back and she hit him and smashed his jaw on the rock

But he's hushed. It's decided there's not enough evidence. And not enough reason to doubt the noble deputy.

She's never done something like this before, after all. It's more likely it was an accident.

There is a group of cats that are dissatisfied about this, though, and it only grows when Brambleberry explains that Stormkit's prognosis is not good.

There is a very high chance he will die. Even adult warriors can wither slowly from this sort of injury.

Recovery will be slow and it will be painful.

...but after that incident? Rainflower gets bolder. She got away with it in public. She got a taste of the leverage she has, how much they trust her.

Stormkit spends a lot of time floating in between his dreams and his living-world pain. There's at least one interaction where he speaks to Mapleshade, screaming at her that he TRUSTED her, he KNOWS she's the one who hurt him! How could she?!

She can't say much, kept at bay by a hazy smokescreen of sage. "You must live! You must survive!"

Her old words echo in his head; It Will Get Worse Before It Gets Better.

Throughout the recovery, Rainflower grows more cruel and more distant.

In public she likes to talk about how difficult this is for her, but he's strong, he will survive.

In private, she'll do things that hurt him, like repositioning his head in a way that "his jaw will heal better in." When he cries, she's unsympathetic.

"You brought this on yourself. This is for your own good."

Her definition of "private" is also changing. She's getting more comfortable with snapping at him in front of limited groups of people.

Since she's deputy, the other two parents in the nursery, Shellheart and Fallowtail, do their best to care for Stormkit while she's away. He's pulled away from them when she gets back, any ideas or suggestions they have vetoed.

When they try to go to Brambleberry about this, she shakes her head with frustration and tries to make them understand she knows... and she's just as unhappy with it as they are.

She tells them she keeps going to Hailstar, but he's still hesitant. Even though she's trying to tell him that Stormkit's recovery is being undermined.

"Rainflower's son has always needed tough love. She's his Mi and knows him best... she's still taking care of him. Give her a warning before suggesting anything drastic."

In the other draft, I had Mapleshade kill two of Fallowtail's kits to free up milk for Stormkit. I'm not sure I need that anymore honestly, plus, this rework's heavy enough! She can just have Willowkit without any deaths, while Graypaw remains an older sibling.

When Brambleberry informs Rainflower and Stormkit that the jaw isn't healing straight and it will probably be at an angle forever, Rainflower reacts with disdain.

"His first scar and it's nothing he earned?!"

She's reminded he might not even survive. He's lost weight. He's eating less. Stormkit curls up quietly. He hates how they talk about him like he can't hear them.

"Surviving is the bare minimum," she scoffs reflexively. There's a silence so thick you can cut it with a claw. After an uncomfortable heartbeat, she continues, "What kind of a life will he live if he-"

"a life," Brambleberry cuts in, "he'd live a life. And it can be a good one"

Rainflower growls, spitting that the twisted jaw is a disfigurement. He'll never be able to open his mouth all the way. He can't chew and he can't suckle forever. Stormkit will never become a warrior if he can't even dispatch a fish with a killing bite.

"Scars are the sign that StarClan has mended our bodies after fighting a good fight, making any Clanborn cat worthy of being an elder" Brambleberry preaches, "Names are what mark us, calling upon our ancestors to look down at us and witness our actions, Rainflower. Don't say anything you wouldn't want them to see."

Rainflower flicks her ear, seething, a rumble in her throat, "was that some kind of threat? As if I've said something wrong?"

"If you feel threatened, look within."

Stormkit resents all of this talk. He can feel his mother tensing up next to him, hears the low rumble progressing into a growl. When adults play stupid games with his mom, he's always the one who ends up dealing it. Why don't they get that?

It's only Shellheart who seems to have it click, "Hey, this is the nursery. Can you take it outside, please?"

As Brambleberry and Rainflower leave, Stormkit lays curled up in his nest, cold and alone. Oakkit leaves Shellheart's paws to curl up around his best friend.

Shellheart stares at them, shifting, but ultimately stays where he is.

There's a lot of words I could write there, between Storm and Oak. Ones where Storm speaks about how he just wants the pain to be done with. Others where Oak comforts him, tells him how much he means to him. More where they end up running into the wall that they're just two little kids and they've both learned the truth that they have no control over what happens when Rainflower comes back into that den.

But I think it would be good to end there, at the lowest point. Because it gets better.

Pissed off by being gently confronted, after her warning from Brambleberry, this is the moment where Rainflower goes too far.

Hailstar is gradually losing his patience. Every time this issue comes up, he's making some kind of new excuse for her.

She's still a competent deputy who holds the Clan together, but this has taken a toll on her reputation.

Her biggest mistake was becoming more open with her abuse after being emboldened. And I think Hailstar is beginning to feel like he's got "egg on his face."

After standing up for Rainflower several times, getting heat from Brambleberry, and now the Clan also starting to murmur...

It's getting very difficult to justify why he's sticking his neck out.

and maybe, part of him is starting to feel a little self-conscious about the way that his deputy is acting about her injured child.

When she comes storming up on this fateful day, interrupting whatever he was doing to make a proposition, it's the breaking point.

Her suggestion: "I've realized that there's only one way to ensure my son survives his injury. He's being haunted by our demon, which only started threatening him when he disobeyed me for the last time. WE need to teach him a lesson, and make sure StarClan gazes down upon him to acknowledge his mistakes."

"...how do you intend to do that?"

"Stormkit must be given a Dishonor Title."

A Dishonor Title, one of the greatest shames that a leader can put onto one of their warriors. A punishment that ranks just below exile in terms of severity.

"you want to put a dishonor title... on your child? one with a life-threatening injury?"

"One that acknowledges his carelessness. To protect him from the demon."

Protect him from the demon. "I see now what must be done."

Previously, I'd thought of Hailstar as someone who would be loud and merciless when he does this. Now I'm thinking it was something he put a lot of thought into. He stands up, brushes past her, and goes to talk to some of his most trusted cats. Brambleberry, his mate Echomist, an experienced warrior such as Piketooth or Ottersplash, and lastly, Shellheart.

So it's not a surprise to anyone but Rainflower herself. He doesn't want this to be dramatic. He doesn't want it to be another big scene. Stormkit has gone through enough.

When he eventually has this Clan meeting, he calls it quietly. In his address to the gathered cats, a crowd that Shellheart and his family are missing from at his request, he says that his greatest regret is that he didn't do this sooner. He even doubts that Mapleshade is haunting her at all-- now having seen her behavior, he says it's more likely that Rainflower bashed her own child against a rock and simply lied.

First, he announces that Stormkit will be removed from her care. He will no longer be of the Applekin bloodline.

She is banned from the nursery at the request of Fallowtail, and will only see Stormkit when supervised by his new Mi, Shellheart.

Brambleberry has already agreed to this necessity, and is performing a ritual so that StarClan may approve of this choice.

He also strips her of her deputyship, and appoints Ottersplash instead. (I might change this to a different deputy eventually)

Not everyone agrees with Hailstar. There's an uproar from Rainflower's supporters.

She was a VERY popular deputy.

More that are just uneasy, feeling that this was a BRUTAL punishment that she didn't deserve.

Lots are happy and optimistic, though. But the mixed reception is exactly why Hailstar asked Shellheart not to be here.

This isn't something Stormkit has to deal with right now.

When Darkstar herself, who created the Queen's Rights, was on her last life, she appointed Volestar to uphold the law as her legacy knowing that Oakstar might try to break it again.

Volestar appointed Hailstar, in the hopes that he would uphold her legacy in turn, to protect kittens and those who can't protect themselves.

He was late, and can only hope he was not too late. He hopes that Volestar can forgive him for that.

Meanwhile in the nursery, Shellheart, Oakkit, and Stormkit are alone, far in the back, where the padded moss keeps out arguing voices.

Oakkit, bless his little heart, is babbling with excitement because his best friend is his BROTHER now. And it's gonna be THE BEST.

He's talking about how it's fine he can't chew because now they can have soup, and they're going to make the nest bigger, and they can stay up later because they can whisper quieter if they're this close together

But Storm doesn't really hear him. His head's swimming, thinking about the dull ache in his jaw, how MAD his mom's going to be because he can't imagine her not finding a way to hurt him, how this is all his fault because he called Mapleshade.

He can't stop it anymore and starts sniffling, which turns into weeping. Still, he's TRYING not to bawl, knowing, knowing he looks stupid when he does that

Shellheart just pulls him in close, so he can bury his face in his fluffy chest. Tells him it's going to be ok. He's safe now. No one can hurt him there.

Not on his watch.

Unfortunately, it's not the last he sees of Mapleshade. After this...

Mapleshade shows him everything she did for him. Yes, she did smash his jaw-- but it was to get him away from his mother.

And she planted an idea here and there, just little whispers into Rainflower's ear. Nothing she wouldn't do all on her own.

And now... Mapleshade believes she's earned some respect.

Stormkit can't disagree... she did exactly what she told him she'd do.

And now that he's not Applekin anymore, they can be Real Friends. They could even strike up a partnership, of sorts. After all, what did StarClan do to help him?

It wasn't StarClan that answered his prayers.

I'm still figuring out what, exactly, she's going to want from him. I have a scintilla that she wants to give him a life, maybe as some kind of bridge to StarClan to see her kits?

Some strange "attempt" at redemption, perhaps? Which she ultimately doesn't get.

Not that she didn't enjoy doing all that for love of the game, mind you. She's very good at getting revenge and it's fun and exciting to pull it off.

But hey, if you're good at something, never do it for free.

What causes Mapleshade to ultimately turn, and begin haunting the bloodline again + Oakheart, is Crookedstar rejecting her in some way.

She comes to collect on her end of the bargain and he refuses, breaking their partnership. He chooses StarClan.

And then from there, it's ON again. Now she has another EXCUSE to do what she wanted to do, and take out her boredom and malice on his family.

This time, it includes Oakheart as well-- because he was Crookedstar's brother.

It was also her curse that harmed Willowbreeze and eventually Silverstream. She's on the warpath.

Maybe she actually helped make him leader on purpose. Like he explicitly asked so she helped him by making the squirrel omen, instead of just doing it for him unprompted. Still figuring it out.

Shortly after the scene where Stormkit cries, he needs to have a confrontation with Brambleberry about Mapleshade I think. She needs to explain why Dark Forest demons are seen as bad.

She's biased, of course, but it's not like she's TOTALLY wrong either. Cats like Mapleshade ARE vengeful, in ways many other spirits are not.

If you're curious, Crookedstar's dishonor title from Rainflower would have been something comparing him to a parasite and referencing his ""accident"" like Fleaskip or Midgefall.

The point she's trying to make with the Dishonor Title is that her son is an annoying bug who didn't listen, as well as subtly erase she fact she knocked him off that rock.

She wanted his name to say "everything that happened was my fault and my mom did nothing wrong"

Not that Hailstar got as far as even asking lmao

#better bones au #Stormpaw's Demon #BB!Crookedstar #BB!Shellheart #BB!Oakheart #BB!Mapleshade #BB!Rainflower #Cw child abuse #tw child abuse #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw emotional abuse #tw emotional abuse #Stormpaw's Demon Draft 2

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR ACCIDENTALLY RUNNING INTO A ONE NIGHT STAND YOU THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER SEE AGAIN *  assorted dialogue for that specific scenario where your muse slept with someone and then they parted ways, never expecting to run into each other until that amazing "oh my god, it's you" moment, adjust as necessary

please don't tell me you work here.

admit it. you still think about me.

that was the best night of my life.

i tried finding you, tried tracking you down.

you never told me your name.

well... this is awkward.

we could go for a round two later.

could i take you out for drinks?

this cannot be happening.

there were no feelings involved.

they're asking how we know each other. what do we say?

i never thought i'd ever see you again.

did you ever tell anyone about us?

maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.

you didn't even give me a chance to talk to you the next morning.

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

you didn't even leave me your number.

i never got your name.

can we just start over and try this all again? pretend like we never met?

so... wait. we're going to be coworkers?

they're very strict about fraternization.

there is no "us." we were never anything.

i cannot mix my professional life and my personal life.

act like you don't know me.

it was just a one night stand.

we should start over.

you can't flirt with me anymore.

i should have spent the night.

can we just act like it never happened and carry on like normal?

i thought about you every night.

no, i've never met you before in my life.

i didn't have time to get involved in anyone.

i never promised i'd stay the night.

i'll admit, it was great.

so it was a night of great sex. big whoop.

they can't know we slept together, okay?

i've moved on, and so should you.

keep this between us.

did you tell anyone we hooked up?

don't give me that look.

so you do think about me.

i wish i stayed overnight.

if they find out we slept together, we're in big trouble.

of course i think about you.

you were honestly the best i've ever had

it was a mistake to hook up like that.

it was just for fun.

we never should have crossed that line.

let's just put that in the past and forget it even happened.

i have to focus on my work now and not think about you.

pretend like we just met.

will you finally give me your name?

so... what should i call you?

i'm not used to seeing you with clothes on.

you look different in daylight.

you can't flirt your way into my pants this time.

it was amazing, i'll admit, but we can't go back.

please don't tell them what happened.

to tell you the truth, i missed you.

i haven't been with anyone since.

we could try being friends.

admit it. you loved it.

please don't mess this up for me.

you've always been on my mind.

i can't believe i finally found you.

if we're going to work together, we need to put everyone aside and focus.

don't smile at me like that.

#definitely inspired by 'pucking around' by emily rath oops #rp questions #rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

[lovelynim]

More than he gambled for

Honkai: Star Rail - Sunday x Dr. Ratio x Aventurine

Collab with @ticklystuff

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I'm so excited to publish this. Thanks friend ( @ticklystuff ) for bearing me for 2 months, most people would've quitted in the first 48h, but you stayed there.

I had a blast writing this with you and enjoyed every one of our talks during breaks.

ahem, this all started with us thinking about aventurine getting obliterated by two handsome men and here we are. i hope you all like it as well

Summary: What happens in Penacony, stays in Penacony.

Word count: 5208 words

Warnings: N$FW, minor bondage

“Agh,” Aventurine gritted his teeth, using some of his strength to sit back up without using his arms - not that he had an option anyway. “Couldn’t you be a little more gentle, doc?” With mischievous eyes, he looked at the man standing in front of him and, then, to the one a couple steps behind. He wasn’t sure what those two agreed behind his back, but Aventurine knew Ratio was up for something.

Arms restrained behind his back, all the doors that led to the Dreammaster Hall locked and not a soul if not theirs in sight. If this wasn’t Penacony’s dreamscape, Aventurine would dare to say this was some sort of murder attempt. He chuckled, making the other men exchange a confused look - who was he trying to kid? This could be a murder attempt, and how oh-so-exciting it would be if it was actually one. “Please, you’re not going to give me the silent treatment, are you?”

Ratio rolled his eyes, sighing as he had anything but patient to waste on that damned gambler. “You-”

“You’re so confident, Mr. Aventurine. I envy this trait of yours,” Sunday spoke gently, taking a step forward and standing by Ratio’s side. With one hand behind his back, he gestured with the other, continuing his speech. “I was just telling Mr. Ratio about how very appealing you were after your arrival in Penacony. I can’t grant that the Great One would approve your methods, but you sure knew what to do.”

Aventurine’s jaw dropped slightly. A pinch of embarrassment mixed with apprehension and doubt. It was hard to believe that Sunday would actually share the word about their private negotiation, especially with someone like Ratio. But above that, what was even more improbable was the fact that the doctor would bother to hear it. Unless… “Doc, you’re not about to say you got jealous, right?” Aventurine teased despite his position, watching the man keep his serious facade.

Humming a chuckle at the short bickering, Sunday gestured with his free hand as he continued his speech. “It happened to me, Mr. Aventurine, that Mr. Ratio would find it hard to believe just how convincing you can be at certain times. So, I imagined it would be a good idea to show him it.”

…What?

Of all things that crossed his mind when he was first dragged into that room, this was not one of them. A interrogation, a torture session, a stealth assassination - anything! But… “a threesome?” Aventurine chuckled, leaning back into the soft cushions. He definitely did not expect things to come to this.

“But who said anything about having sexual intercourse?” Sunday feigned, tilting his head slightly while Ratio cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But as you said to me a couple system-hours after our meeting in the Reviere, ‘this is Penacony, for the Amber Lord’s sake, land of dreams. Is it a crime to fuck?’, right?”

Did he say that? Well, the line certainly did sound like something that would slip out of his mouth, Aventurine wouldn’t deny. Yet more perplexing was the fact that this specific comment was what stuck with Sunday all this time, imprinting on the Halovian’s mind. Truth be told, there was a bit of purpose to the question. Why not make the most of his stay? Penacony, land of dreams, a place most sought, yet only accessible to the elite. It would be disingenuous to deny that many individuals here possessed an illustrious charm to their person and, if given the chance, Aventurine wouldn’t turn down a bit of fun. And yet, somehow, by the grace of the Amber Lord maybe, he found himself locked in this very room with what were possibly the two most.. delectable men Penacony had to offer. Apprehension turned thrill, Aventurine licked his lips; perhaps lady luck truly favored him after all.

“Speak, gambler.” Ratio’s voice effortlessly resounded off the walls of the hall, filling the dimly lit room with his presence. The authority behind his voice was something Aventurine had grown accustomed to over time, for better or worse, yet there was a noticeable difference that made its mark, sending a tingle of excitement through Aventurine’s body. “Or has the situation before you rendered that tongue of yours impotent for once?”

Aventurine chuckled, a half-attempt of a shrug with his snugly bound wrists. “Oh please, you know me better than that, Doc,” his voice softer than intended, eyes flitting as the imposing figures glowered over him, “but I’m not sure I’m in the position to say anything, to be quite frank.”

“An astute observation,” Ratio nodded with the usual condescending smile, turning to Sunday. “Mr. Sunday, may I suggest we now show the guest of honor why he’s in this position in the first place? I’m aware of your growing impatience.”

“Oh, but of course,” Sunday said, gesturing one hand to Aventurine’s seated figure. “After you, Dr. Ratio.”

Confidence can oftentimes be described as a double-edged sword: effective at fooling not just others, but oneself as well, and as Aventurine watched the two men take their place by his helpless frame that it dawned on him that perhaps there was something more in store, something underneath that smile Sunday wore well. He could only feign his own weakly, the act he put together quite well crumbling ever so slowly with each passing second, observing as Sunday and Ratio seemingly communicated with their eyes. What he wouldn’t give to hear their thoughts.. or on second thought, perhaps the dark was for the best.

“Poor thing, are you nervous?” Sunday cooed, almost in a lullaby-like tone, while he sat himself by Aventurine's right side. Before the gambler had a chance to voice another smart remark, Sunday gently held his chin, turning Aventurine’s face towards his. Barely inches away from each other, it was nearly impossible for the blonde to stop blood from rushing to his cheeks. “Worry not, for you have nothing but good moments awaiting ahead.”

“S-sure…” Aventurine muttered, hoping the small crack on his confident facade would go unnoticed by the other two. As Sunday’s lips hovered above his, Aventurine closed his eyes, letting his face be guided into a short kiss. For someone as “pure, righteous and collected” as Sunday, the head of the Oak Family was surprisingly skilled with his mouth. This was the second time this thought crossed Aventurine’s mind - with the first being during his first private encounter with Sunday - but he couldn’t help but be just as impressed.

It didn’t take long for the gambler to feel a shift in the cushions by his other side. With no doubts that Ratio had joined the scene, Aventurine tried to relax and let the other man work on him as he pleased. Opening the buttons of his coat, Aventurine felt Ratio’s hands trailing up his torso, adjusting his posture so he would lean his back on Sunday while having his legs resting on Ratio’s lap. “Don’t be shy, doc,” the gambler teased, resting his head on Sunday’s shoulder, feeling his wing gently resting against his jawline. “If anything, you should make mr. Sunday impressed.”

If he was about to get fucked, he might as well let himself enjoy the ride, Aventurine thought. Kicking off his shoes, he kept Ratio between his legs by wrapping one of them around the doctor’s waist. The only thing stopping Aventurine from hugging Sunday by his neck being the cuffs that kept his hands together, the gambler let out a pleased sigh, allowing a smirk to take place in his lips. “You already know the drill, doc, come on. ~”

Behind him, Sunday couldn’t help but to look up to the doctor, as if waiting for an answer after such provocations. The scholar, however, scoffed quietly and towered over the gambler, a wicked grin playing in his lips while his hands pushed Aventurine’s clothes out of his way, getting a hold on the blonde’s bare waist. “You should have held your tongue, gambler.”

Finding himself trapped between the two men, Aventurine clenched his hands - that, thankfully, were out of their sight. He looked down, watching Sunday slide one of his hands down his chest and Ratio rest his palms over his hip bones. The texture of their gloves were different, which added a touch of… uniqueness to each of them. While Sunday’s hands were covered in a delicate fabric, smooth and soft as silk, the contrast between Ratio’s bare fingers and covered palms would constantly capture Aventurine’s attention and interest.

But… Aventurine didn’t expect the other two to be touchy. Not this touchy, at least. “H-hngh… hey, c-can you two be a little less… g-gentle?” Aventurine gasped through gritted teeth, sinking his teeth in his lower lip as Ratio rubbed small circles with his thumbs. “T-this kinda- agh, t-tickles, heh…”

“Mmm, interesting,” Sunday chuckled lowly, the wisp of his breath grazing Aventurine’s skin ever so slightly, sending a trickle down his spine. This in tandem with the incessant caress of Sunday’s fingers, from the curve of his waist to the edge of his pecs, made it difficult to focus on the task at hand and Aventurine would open his mouth to fuss about the excessive display of touchiness, but would curl his lips shut soon after, fighting the unique sensation bubbling at the back of his throat. As if to knowingly further coax the feeling, Sunday’s hand slipped underneath the tight shirt still clad around Aventurine’s torso, repeating the same motion from before, threatening to pop the buttons of his top from below. Sunday’s delicate fingers intricately imprinted on his bare skin, a hint that this was a familiar game he played, and with the slight brush of his gloved hand along Aventurine’s nipple released a shiver through the blond’s body, cascading into a ragged arch of his back that accompanied a mewl Aventurine fought to suppress. 

Had it been Sunday alone, perhaps the ordeal would have been manageable, but there was still Ratio and his own set of hands to contend with. Despite the certain familiarity behind those hands, the subtle differences were all too difficult to ignore. It was almost like Ratio had taken a page out of Sunday’s book, mimicking the gentle strokes that Sunday used to mark all over Aventurine’s torso, a stark contrast from the rougher treatment Aventurine had grown accustomed to. His legs quivered with each passing second, anticipating the Ratio he knew so well to pick up the pace, yet even the doctor seemed caught in the moment, kneading his fingers into Aventurine’s hips, forcing a sharp gasp from the blond as he involuntarily jutted his hips.

“S-Stop th— this nonsense,” his voice wobbled in his throat, pushing back the laughter that only grew the more their hands claimed inches of skin. “It tickles— stop, I-I said it tickles..”

“Ah, our dear peacock seems to be quite the… sensitive one.” The tone in Sunday’s voice, the way in which he emphasized that word— it all pointed to one thing and Aventurine didn’t like that. This wasn’t what he expected, their plaything in such a manner, and Aventurine discovered the more he squirmed, the more he attempted to retract his legs, the closer their bodies pressed into him—

And yet, there existed a distinct kind of tension, a faint presence rooted at the pit of his stomach. Under normal circumstances, this would be no more than a passing thought, a mere blip in his system, yet the feeling budded ever so slightly, nourished by the stimuli plaguing his body, to the point that Aventurine could ignore no longer. For all his efforts, the feeling continued to flower, invoked by the heat of his surroundings, unfurling its petals to propagate through his limbs, his system, an unfamiliar sensation knotting throughout him, yearning to be touched.

And yet, he still fought.

“Perhaps we should’ve taken care to restrain his legs as well,” Ratio expressed irritatedly as Aventurine’s legs continued to jerk, contrasting the subtle whines that escaped the blond’s mouth with each touch.

“And here I thought you’d prefer a bit of a challenge,” Sunday tutted, resting his chin atop Aventurine’s shoulder, as if he wasn’t struggling in his grasp, searching for reprieve from those damned hands. “And to think, we haven’t even really started.”

A death sentence wouldn’t have evoked as much fear as those words did. Aventurine’s jaw opened slightly, struck by realization. Just when he was about to turn his head to look over his shoulder and face Sunday, Aventurine was forced to look back forward by a firm grip on his chin. 

“Is there something troubling you, gambler?” Unlike Sunday’s, Ratio’s voice was firm, demanding, almost as if he was scolding Aventurine. The blonde opened his mouth to retort - his body moving faster than his thoughts - but instead of words, something he had been fighting so hard to repress came out: a giggle.

Distracted by Ratio’s sudden approach, Aventurine failed to notice Sunday’s hands slipping further inside his shirt, reaching for the soft skin of his sides and prodding at those spots - on both sides, at the same time. And as he was caught off guard, a short, breathy laugh escaped his lips.

“Oh?” Sunday mused, arching his eyebrows in a pleasant - at least, for him - surprise. “Did you hear that, mr. Ratio?”

No, no, no, no, no!

A million thoughts rushed through Aventurine’s mind, as if he and the other two were all frozen in time at that moment. The gambler looked up to see the doctor’s face and felt his heart sink inside his chest when he noticed those amber eyes he knew oh-so-well weren’t looking at him, but rather past him.

“R-Ratio,” Aventurine wheezed, with a dozen of other words stuck at the back of his throat, “don’t even think about tha-AHAT!” His body jerked violently, arching his spine when Sunday dug his fingers just below his lowest rib again.

“I beg your pardon, mr. Aventurine, but I was talking to mr. Ratio,” Sunday cooed into his ear, making the blonde grit his teeth. Aventurine felt frustrated, humiliated even, but also… thrilled.

“Yes, I did,” Ratio scoffed, roughly yanking his hand down Aventurine’s torso, ripping off all the buttons of his expensive shirt that were in the way. “But I can’t say I’m anywhere near impressed, mr. Sunday. He has always been ticklish. Awfully ticklish, if you ask me. So this reaction is anything but unexpected.”

Aventurine groaned quietly, feeling a faint heat spread across his face after being exposed, both physically and verbally, like that. He slightly scrunched up his shoulders, as if trying to sink into his own body. If he was a little more flexible, he would have pulled his leg back just to land a kick on Ratio’s handsome face. That bastard, how could he be handing such a valuable, classified intel like that?

“I see,” Sunday chirped content, sliding his hands up and towards the middle of Aventurine’s torso, palming at the underside of his chest. “He seems to know you really well, mr. Aventurine. I bet you two get along well,” he teased, humming a chuckle while his fingers tapped at the top of his abs, making the blonde tremble with anticipation.

“N-no such thi- ah! W-wahahit! R-Ratio, ahAHAh, n-nohoh!!”

“I would appreciate it if you could spare me of your monologues, mr. Sunday,” Ratio snapped, planting his hands back at Aventurine’s waist and drawing both men’s attention back to him. Thumbs dug just above where Aventurine’s bones would be while the rest of Ratio’s fingers prodded and vibrated against his lower sides and back. 

“You already have plenty on your hands, no?” The scholar continued, casually ignoring Aventurine’s loud, panicked pleas between his laughter.

Sunday clicked his lips, pondering about what would be a proper response. “By the Great One, doctor, it seems that I struck not just mr. Aventurine’s nerves, but yours too,” he teased, grinning at the sight of Ratio frowning.

Still, he couldn’t really deny that he, indeed, had plenty in his hands already. Sunday clawed at Aventurine’s sides, slowly working his way up the blonde’s ribs and, much to the gambler’s horror, managing to worm his fingers under Aventurine’s arms.

“H-hey, hehey!!” Aventurine whined, throwing his head back into Sunday’s shoulder and kicking one of the nearby cushions as he squirmed. “F-fucking stahahap this shihihit!” Aeons, it tickled. It tickled so bad it made him want to crawl out of his skin. It tickled so bad that he… wanted more? 

“Mr. Sunday,” Ratio tutted, “bear in mind that I do not entertain lowly provocations, especially from beings such as yourself,” his voice chided the other, working his hands over Aventurine’s thighs at the same time, “though, if it humors that pigeon brain of yours, my most recent observations confirm that you perhaps possess an inkling of expertise when handling our gambler here.”

“I presume a compliment from you is but a rare occurrence, which explains mr. Aventurine’s display of lonely behavior the other day,” Sunday commented with a hint of playfulness, but full of second intentions. His voice, however, barely audible over Aventurine’s laughter, just loud enough to make his message clear to the scholar, “but I am no man to refuse such courtesy— I humbly accept the praise, mr. Ratio.”

Throughout all this, Aventurine’s pleas fell on deaf ears, begging to be granted even a shred of mercy from the hands that were seemingly everywhere. And yet, if one could take a bird’s eye view of the situation, one would be able to observe the way Aventurine sunk into Sunday’s hold, his legs clinging tighter to Ratio’s body, head lolling to the side, body twitching to the source of the sensations, seemingly begging for more, unbeknownst to Aventurine himself. Each poke, each prod, each pinch, invoked a string of pleasure, wringing together into a jumbled mess that brought both confusion and.. excitement.

“Waihah- stop! Stahahap, I-I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can. Yes.. you can,” Sunday cooed smoothly, his breath warm against the tip of Aventurine’s ear. His hands traveled the length of Aventurine’s torso freely, no longer restricted by the tight shirt from before, taking liberties in how he tormented the blond. Digs to his ribs, a squeeze to his side, learning Aventurine’s body with his hands. A yelp escaped his lips right when Sunday’s hand reached for his exposed nipple and Sunday’s intrigued ‘ah’ that followed made Aventurine want to curl up if he could. Having caught his interest, Sunday’s fingers continued to roll what seemed like his new favorite spot in between his thumb and index finger and Aventurine shifted and squirmed underneath his touch, almost as if Sunday had complete control of his body with one simple movement, all while still digging into Aventurine’s underarm. 

And Ratio.. his damned hands at his thighs, digging into them ravishingly. He looked upwards to face the doctor, mouth agape with laughter, hoping his eyes could convey that he just needed this to fucking stop, yet the slight grin that crossed Ratio’s face was enough for Aventurine’s stomach to sink. The man clearly found amusement in Aventurine’s reactions, squeezing harder with each shriek, keeping the slim legs apart whenever Aventurine would attempt to protect the sensitive inner regions, all while keeping that delighted gaze locked with Aventurine’s own helpless one.

“R-Ratio, pleHEHEase! Stop! Just— staHAHap!” The fingers at his thighs combined with Sunday’s special attention to his pecs was too much, past the point of overstimulation. His body felt weightless, head fuzzy from the high coursing through his veins. His struggles withered away, slumped back in their hold as the tickling continued on, and on, and on..

Until it didn’t.

“...Oh.”

It took a moment for Aventurine’s brain to register that the hands had come to a gradual halt— first were the ones at his thighs, then Sunday’s hands at his upper-body. He laid there, eyes glazed over, aimlessly following the blurred stars dance across the ceiling. Although the tickling had stopped moments ago, light giggles still flowed from his mouth, thinning out into the occasional heavy intake of breath as Aventurine took in his break.

“You seem perplexed, doctor,” mused Sunday. “Is something the matter?”

Through half-lidded eyes, Aventurine took in Ratio’s inquisitive gaze, almost like he was focusing on Aventurine, yet not. “Mr. Sunday, it appears that our gambler here has something to share with the two of us.”

Spent of energy, all Aventurine could manage in response was a half head-tilt, rolling the back of his head along the lining of Sunday’s chest, head too hazy to follow along, though it soon became clear what Ratio was referring to. Aventurine’s eyes jolted open and a choked gasp filled the air following the feeling of Ratio’s hand grazing his crotch…. or rather, what was there. 

“W-Wait, Ratio, no.. no, don’t, pleas- hAH!” Aventurine’s legs twitched as Ratio’s palm began methodical rubs against the tented pants, gentle pressure to stimulate his already hardened member. Sharp intakes of breath were all that Aventurine could cling to in an attempt to control himself with the rising heat overtaking his body. His eyes once again locked with Ratio’s own, shaking his head in plea, yet the scholar carried on, using his free hand to keep Aventurine’s thighs from clasping together, while the other continued to feel.. touch.

“Ah, I see, I see,” Aventurine could make out a chuckle from behind him, before fingers made their way to the base of his chin, turning his head to face Sunday’s amused smile once more. “What a turn of events— I suppose the course of action is clear.” Breathy whines filled the air as Sunday’s own free hand came into play, palming Aventurine along with Ratio, as if the two men were competing for his attention. “Doctor, if you’d care to do the honors.”

“Gladly.”

It all happened so quickly– first his belt and thigh strap tossed to the side, followed by the graze of fabric shifting against his skin. Despite his earlier demeanor, Ratio was surprisingly gentle throughout the whole process, slowly stripping Aventurine’s legs with care, bending and straightening his limbs with delicacy as he worked away at his pants. While one hand tugged at the fabric, the other would trail along, feeling along the newly bare skin, akin to a merchant threading his fingers through the finest silk, continuing until Aventurine’s feet had slid through his pants, socks discarded in the process. 

All the while, Sunday’s fingers treaded the outline of his boxers, toying with the elastic, before burrowing underneath. A short whimper slipped through Aventurine’s mouth the moment he felt Sunday’s thin fingers wrap around his cock. “Hmmm~” Sunday hummed, contrasting the series of frantic breaths that only grew in beat with each passing second. His body jerked with each complete circle that Sunday teased along the head, as if the other man had complete control over Aventurine’s body through a singular rhythm. Even as Ratio’s own fingers hooked around the hem of Aventurine’s boxers, Sunday’s hand never left ownership, keeping Aventurine his plaything till the last layer discarded.

“...s-stop staring,” Aventurine sobbed quietly, his chin pressing down at the middle of his chest as if it was somehow hiding him from the other two - that only seemed to grow more amused at his reactions. His dick, however, stood up proudly, contrasting its owner. It clearly enjoyed the attention it was getting and, of course, it craved for more. Aventurine felt his body burning under the two piercing gazes that surrounded him and, to the death of the last bits of his pride, he didn’t even need to look at Ratio’s or Sunday’s faces to know where they were looking.

He wanted to close his legs shut, kick the doctor in the face and punch the family’s head as he ran away. He wanted to want to fight back, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. As much as he would rather die than admit he got hard because he was tickled, Aventurine knew that his body - that had already betrayed him - would never miss such a chance.

Before these thoughts could occupy any more room inside his head, the feeling of another hand joining Sunday’s around his cock brought him back to reality. Aventurine bit his lower lip, his pupils quickly moving up to Ratio’s face and down to his own erection. “Is something troubling you, gambler?”

“I assume there must be a lot crossing mr. Aventurine’s mind right now,” Sunday answered, humming a chuckle sweetly as he pressed his cheeks against the blonde’s. “Should we help him release some?”

Aventurine wished he could snap back at that, say something and prove Sunday wrong, but, again, he didn’t. Barely any sound came from his gaping mouth and, taking his silence for an answer, the men continued to toy with him.

Sunday closed his palm around the tip of Aventurine’s dick, carefully rubbing circles over the spot as he massaged it, almost fluttering his digits over the skin of the blonde’s length. Ratio, in the meantime, wrapped his fingers around the hard cock - tight enough to force a whimper out of Aventurine’s mouth - and began to stroke it, up and down and up and down, methodic like the man himself.

A sweet, but restrained moan poured from Aventurine’s lips. A shiver ran up his spine, carrying enough pleasure to make his back arch and his toes curl. 

“It must be heavenly, no?” Sunday cooed, his free hand resting over Aventurine’s stomach while the other worked nonstop to please him. “The attention, the care, the pleasure… I know you’re fond of those, mr. Aventurine,” he continued, making Aventurine feel safe, reassured, validated. Despite all the warnings and recommendations regarding Sunday’s figure before his current mission, here he was, leaning into his touch and giving himself to the fullest.

Still, something was missing. Something of ultimate importance for his pleasure and that, until not long ago, made itself present during his engagement with the other two. With teary, half-opened eyes, Aventurine stared at Ratio, hoping this would be enough to deliver the message. “D-doc, h-hah… ple-ehease…”

The scholar sighed. Should his and Sunday’s places switch, Aventurine’s needy mumbling wouldn’t carry as much meaning as they did. Ratio moved his other, hooking it under one of the blonde’s legs before caressing the smooth, tender skin. “Is this what you want, isn’t it, gambler?”

Not giving Aventurine the chance to even nod at his question, Ratio squeezed the back of his thigh, pinching and digging in a way that made Aventurine’s head spin and his lips curl into a smile. 

“N-nohot so h-hahard, hhngh… doctor, b-be nihihice, ahh…”

Sunday, left out of their conversation, couldn’t help but to allow a slight smile to take place on his lips. “Yes, mr. Ratio,” he added to Aventurine’s pleas, beginning to trace circles and tickle around the blonde's navel while pre-cum slowly soaked the palm of his glove, “mr. Aventurine demands quite the care when dealing with him, isn't that right?”

“H-hehey, don't- ahhgh… S-Suhunday- s-low dohohown! ThaHAHahat's t-too muhuhuch!”

“Peculiar that he still holds himself to a position of authority,” Ratio scoffed, addressing only Sunday, yet his eyes stayed honed on Aventurine, as if scrutinizing the sorry state he found himself reduced to, “though I suppose a modicum of reprieve can be permitted.”

“I believe we are in agreement, then,” Sunday mused, and Aventurine could feel a shift as Sunday leaned in, murmuring against the tip of his ear once more. “You hear that, peacock? We’re almost there…”

“I- hah-hahaaAAH! Pl-please.. m-mm,” Aventurine stuttered, his teeth sinking into his lower lip in a vain attempt of holding the little dignity he had left at that point. He circled his lips, thrusting his dick into Sunday and Ratio’s hands, nearly demanding more.

Protests morphed to pleas, Aventurine’s own voice was foreign to him as he traversed the unfamiliar form of pleasure, steadily losing himself in the ripples. The hands were seemingly everywhere, intricately driving a string of sensations that pooled at the base of his crotch, constantly feeding attention to his shaft that craved for more. Even the slightest of touches were enough to set Aventurine off, evident by the way his body desperately pushed into those hands, seeking relief in what once brought him torment. Helpless whimpers spilled past his lips, unrestrained in nature as the seconds passed. Just.. a little longer…

Tickles and strokes, teases and squeezes. Aventurine's head spun under all that attention, losing track of what made sense and what didn’t. All he could feel was that heat swirling in his lower stomach, underneath the fingers seeing those electric sensations that made him smile and moan like an idiot. 

He could feel it, it was right there.

“A-hAHAh, I-I’m c-cumming! I- hnngh! Ahh!!”

A sharp gasp struck through the air as Aventurine screwed his eyes shut, the dam reaching its collapse. Waves of pleasure began pouring through his body as he arrived at his climax, seeping into his nerves like sweet honey, rendering all other stimuli null. Shots of seed dirtied his chest and the hands that adored him so, finally acquiring what they sought. Aventurine relaxed back into Sunday’s hold, dots of color popping into his vision as his eyes stared listlessly into the ceiling of the hall. His legs trembled ever so slightly, recovering from the aftermath that he was finally free from.

Or so he thought. 

“W-Wait.. stop! Stop it! Please- aH! A-AhahaHAHAHA! NOHOHO!”

A moment of respite and nothing more, the hands were at full vigor even more than before. Contrary to the previous bout of tickling, there seemed to be a silent agreement between Ratio and Sunday, as if both simultaneously came to the conclusion that play time was over.

What used to be light teases and subtle jabs became rougher digs and squeezes into the delicate skin. Each press against the surface created their own butterfly effect, setting a ripple that spread through his nerves, igniting each one so that the next could be set in greater ablaze. Compounded with the post-orgasm sensitivity, Aventurine’s body felt like it was on fire, absorbing every touch from the fingers that seared him, as if the sensations melted past his skin and coursed through his body to send him into sensory overload. Even the cool air of the hall was enough to make his body tingle.

“P-PLEASE!” Aventurine whined, overwhelmed. “N-no mOHOhore! I-it’s too m-much! AHAahah, f-fuck!” He tried to squirm, but each of limbs felt like they weighed ten times more. It tickled too much, it felt too good.

“You should know best between the three of us that there’s always a price to pay,” Ratio answered as he routinely pressed his calloused thumbs into the divet of Aventurine’s bare hips, speaking with a sadistic grin that made things all the worse. “I mean, this is what you wanted, right, gambler?”

“Besides,” Sunday spoke, licking the shell of his ear while his cum-soaked palm continued to rub Aventurine senseless, “mr. Ratio and I were only working for your pleasure. It’s time you do your share for us, right?” He chuckled, making Aventurine’s eyes roll inside his skull.

“Hold still, little peacock. For the night is still too short…”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #aventurine #sunday #dr ratio #aventurine x sunday x ratio #lee!aventurine #ticklish!aventurine #ler!dr ratio #ler!sunday #n$fw #spicy #tickle fic #collabs #aventio #ratiorine #sunturine #avenday

[scribbledghost]

Back to back angst request- I won't be too specific on all of them because I want you to have some freedom but anyhow, fem! Simon shuts down emotionally after a particularly traumatic mission and her girlfriend struggles to break through her silence and help her open up

Simon hasn't spoken in five days.

When she returned home from her latest deployment, you'd known in an instant that this one had been worse than the others. She'd held a far-off gaze, breaking it just long enough to reach for you with a trembling hand. She'd stepped back when you'd tried to hug her, only allowing you to hold her hand.

That'd been almost a week ago. And not much has changed. In fact, if you were to really think about it, much of it has gotten worse.

So much so that when Simon retires to the guest bedroom (a very common occurrence now), you step outside and call Captain Price.

"I just don't know what to do," you tell him, trying to keep your voice down and level to hopefully not give away the fact that you've been crying. "I don't know how to help. She won't speak, won't sleep in the same bed, won't even look at me half the time. She's just completely shut down."

Price can't tell you specifics about the mission they just returned from, but confirms your notion that it had been incredibly traumatic for Simon in particular.

"I don't want to go into detail," he says. "That's for her to do when she's ready. And she will be ready, eventually. But it's probably going to take a lot longer than you're used to. Just... be patient, yeah? You bein' there is helping more than you think."

The conversation ends, and you return inside, immediately running into a wall of muscle.

"Shit, I'm sorry Simon," you say, "I thought you were in the spare room."

You look up at her, and for the first time since returning home, she gazes back at you. Then, she tilts her head. You don't need words to know what she's asking.

Who were you talking to? And why?

"I called Price," you say, and her expression remains the same.

You try to contain yourself, try to tiptoe around the reason you'd called her superior in the middle of the afternoon.

The restraint doesn't last long.

You end up explaining (perhaps over-explaining) how helpless you feel. How badly you want to help, but how you also don't want to push too much. How you want to be there for her, but don't know how. How you want to do something - anything - but you don't want to risk making things worse.

"I just..." you say, sighing as you scrub your hands along your face, "You're always there for me. You always know how to help, you always know just what to say or what to do. I want to be that for you too. I want you to feel safe here."

Then, in a much softer tone:

"I don't want you to have to go through this by yourself."

When you look back at her, Simon is still holding your gaze. Her expression still hasn't moved, and her slightly tilted head would be endearing if not for the circumstances.

She doesn't speak. Not that you'd expected her to.

No, instead - for the first time since she'd returned home five days ago - she hugs you.

It's crushing, the way she pulls you in; like she's afraid you'll slip through her arms and down through the floor if she's not careful. Her grip doesn't falter, and you lose track of how long the two of you stay like this, wrapped up in each other. You suppose it doesn't matter.

It's in this moment that you know Price was right. Eventually, she'll open up again. She may never tell you what happened, and that's okay. But for now, getting to hold her in your arms is more than enough.

#ghost scribbles #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #fem simon #fem reader

[zumiiisumsum]

I see a lot of discussion about Luke and Nic’s relationship and how it seems to be “problematic” how the bridgerton and netflix social media accounts are encouraging the fans to ship them knowing full well about Luke’s private relationship with his gf. There are valid points but also ridiculous ones so here’s what I’ll say:

First of all, it isn’t our business to mind their private lives as much as it isn’t our duty to “protect” their private relationships (particularly Luke’s). A lot of you need reminding that these are adults and professionals doing their jobs in order to ensure the success of the show. They have probably had prior mature conversations about this including ALL parties and it’s literally none of our business how they’ll handle things if issues arise. If there are insecurities in these relationships, it is not our problem and we should never even get involved. We are not their friends, we are merely fans. We should only be here for the show and entertainment.

Second, I think it has always been clear that the shipping between the two of them has been green lighted by the actors themselves. The purpose of the press tour is to encourage the audience to watch the show and what better way to do that than to show how engaging the actors’ relationship are in real life. All the flirting, fan service and banter is something that the actors have signed up for since the very beginning. THIS is what a consensual work relationship looks like. There are boundaries to be met that’s for sure, but generally the act of shipping them was never wrong or problematic in any way. For them, it’s a testament to a job well done and AS FANS, it’s something we can and should admire them for.

Lastly, we can both be aware of the boundaries we have as fans while also enjoy the chemistry and relationship of the actors, as an extension of enjoying the show! We have been waaaaiitiingg for this specific love story for years now, let’s not do anything that’ll ruin the experience for us. I say we are very lucky to have been given a press tour like this one in the first place in order to absorb everything in, with one of the most talented and charming leads we can have as Colin and Penelope. We are very VERY blessed to have Luke and Nic as our main leads this season who are not only great co-workers but also great friends off-screen. They seem to be very secure in their own friendship which is very rare in it of itself and it’s the reason why it’s been so easy to root for them. Of course, the line is drawn when fans harass or insult anyone they are rumored to be romantically involved in just because of shipping. It’s never okay for any fan to get involved in their private lives like that. Ultimately, we just don’t know any of these people personally beyond their public persona and it should stay that way. What happens in their private lives is of no concern of ours. There are a lot more things to appreciate and be grateful for and that’s what we should focus on! Also shipping has been very fun come on now. They’re adorable!!

#bridgerton #polin #netflix #luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton season 3 #shipping #lukola #let us enjoy things

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello. I was wondering if you could offer some advice for me even though it's a common topic :) I used to write all the time and had a huge flow of ideas that kept overlapping each other which made me super creative both in writing and in drawing. But for the past few years (vaguely stopped at the beginning of 2020) I've had no desire to write at all. A cynical part of me has convinced me that it won’t matter to even begin as I don’t finish and barely write the stories and so I don't achieve the satisfaction of deeper immersion into my stories. I know I’m not a bad writer but that my writing suffers when I have no passion.

Previously I would brainstorm/rant with my friend (vice-versa) who was also a writer but we've drifted apart since (and my other friend has no mental energy for writing anymore because of life). I find it very difficult to keep and maintain any growing passion when I'm alone and unable to share with like-minded people - my passion/motivation seems to die when I can't share it. So how do I regain and maintain it? (Obvious answer is to find someone to share ideas with but... how...? And how do I learn to motivate myself when I'm alone?)

It might be a common topic, but each individual situation is still unique. You're going through a lot, anon, and I'm glad you reached out to get some support 💗

Let's start by looking at the factors you've identified that make it difficult for you to write:

Possible burnout - 2020 makes me think of Covid, stress, uncertainty, constant change, perhaps other factors that are more specific to you as an individual. All of these things are exhausting both mentally and physically and can lead to burnout

Limited support from your community - 2 friends are less involved in your writing than they used to be

Limited empathy for yourself - your frustration is turning into self-blame where you're focusing on the fact that your stories aren't finished rather than on the fact that you lack passion for them

I'm drawing some pretty big conclusions here based on two paragraphs of text, so please do push back against anything that feels like an unfair reading of what you wrote. But it seems to me that you've been through an emotional wringer over the last few years between 2020 and your friendship drifting and not having the same supports in place that you used to have.

I think the thing you need to focus on right now is giving yourself the love and kindness you're not currently getting from others. You're beating yourself up for not finishing a story, but you say that your passion comes from immersion in it. Immersion doesn't require an ending. It just needs you to find a way to get deeper into the characters and/or the plot and/or the world.

You used to be able to find that immersion by talking about your stories with your friends. I agree that you should seek out people again since that's clearly really important to you, but while you do that you should also try to identify ways that you can immerse yourself without someone to talk to.

Try stepping away from the idea of writing the story down and instead allow yourself to just daydream about it. Think about the story. Imagine what might happen next. Play with scenes and explore the possibilities instead of deciding for sure what will happen next. When the story isn't written yet, you have an infinite choice of ways that it could go. Perhaps leaning into those myriad options will help you find the fun in it again.

As for finding a new community of people you can talk to about your writing? That's going to take some time and some work. Finding a discord server of like-minded folks. Commenting on the works of writers you find interesting. Replying to comments on your own stories. Posting ask games on tumblr and sending asks when other people post them too. Making friends online isn't always easy or fast, but those are some possible ways to go about it.

But also consider seeing if your local library has a writer's group. Join a local hobby group unrelated to writing where you can find people you enjoy. Your community doesn't have to revolve around fandom. It can also just be people who like you and who you like in return and you all feel comfortable sharing what you love.

Since you sent this ask in, I reblogged a post about rehab for writing injuries. I think you might want to take a look at that too. I think you might find it helpful. ❤️

#asks and answers #long post

[mj-iza-writer]

The last thing Whumpee remembered was a bright light coming at them from seemingly nowhere. It felt like a bus when it hit them.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open. They felt drowsy from whatever was thrown at them.

'Whoever's magic that was needs to tone it down', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must not of had proper training.'

Whumpee already felt that they were tied down with rope and black shrink wrap. A gag had been forced into their mouth, and a tube was connected to it. The tube ran partially down their throat so they could breath and eat. Without it, they would suffocate, but for the inexperienced, the gagging could be worse than suffocating.

Whumpee carefully wiggled, any panicking would make them gag. This wasn't their first time in this situation, they knew this, they were to experienced to make a mistake like panicking.

'Slave trade', Whumpee told themself after receiving a hit to their stomach, 'I'm in the blood market for the vampires.'

'This is terrifying... what if I go to someone else', Whumpee whimpered, 'at least Master makes sure we are properly cared for. Even if it's to cultivate our blood for himself.'

Humans on the purchasing block were wrapped up tightly in black shrink wrap so they couldn't see. A picture was posted of them when they first came in, and their blood was tested by several vampires in the trade so a correct description was posted for interested owners.

Whumpee had a very specific flavor in their blood. Their Master enjoyed it immensely, so Whumpee questioned how they ended up here.

'Master kills the humans he no longer wants. He doesn't resell', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must have been watching me. Master won't be happy when they find out that I'm missing.'

Whumpee could feel hands caressing their body.

'I always hated this part', Whumpee groaned.

"Whumpee is that you?", someone whispered near Whumpee's head.

Whumpee quickly nodded.... somehow that voice seemed familiar enough. They gagged slightly from the tube.

"I thought so", the voice whispered again, "hold on, I was trying to find Tatum's branding on you, and I couldn't remember where they place it. Don't worry I'll get you out of this situation."

Whumpee felt relieved.

"Their picture of you was questionable, and I know Tatum wouldn't give you up so easily", the voice whispered, "with how much they praise your blood."

'I'd be dead if master wanted me gone', Whumpee sighed to themself.

"Excuse me", Whumpee's rescuer called over an employee, "I would like to put a hold on this one.... a friend of mine has been looking for blood like this slave's, I need to call for them."

"Yes of course", the employee nodded.

Whumpee felt arms cradle them from underneath. They were lifted and carried to a private room.

"If I may remain with them until my friend arrives. So I can make sure nothing happens to them", Whumpee heard the friend talking.

"Of course you can stay in this room... just do not remove the wrapping. In case your friend doesn't want them we won't have to rewrap them. It's harder when they're awake", Whumpee heard the person leave.

"I'm pretty sure your master wants you back. I just texted them, and they are not happy", Whumpee heard the person sigh, "I'm not leaving you like this... that tube has to be uncomfortable."

Whumpee nodded, then gagged again.

"Okay hold still."

Whumpee felt the person start cutting the wrapping away.

They were finally able to see who it was.

"Master Collin", Whumpee whispered after the gag and tube were removed.

"Yes dear", they smiled, "don't make too much noise, I don't want them coming back."

Whumpee remained in a laying down position.

"I don't know what happened", Whumpee whispered hoarsely, "I was outside to get some sunlight at Master's requests..... a bright ball of light hit me. When I woke up I was here. They used a lot of magic, I'm still drowsy."

Master Collin nodded, "these traders have been kidnapping different humans from their masters and reselling them again", they sighed, "I'm sorry I don't have any water for you. I know that tube dries you out."

"It's okay", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum should be here shortly... I know they've been hunting you down since last night", Master Collin frowned.

Outside of the room rumors amongst the employees spread across the sale floor. A mysterious person was walking up and down every aisle.

Mysterious meant rich for most slave traders.

Master Tatum's frown deepened as he passed every human that was not Whumpee.

"I hate these places so much", Tatum complained, "this is inhumane even for lowly creatures like humans."

Tatum pulled out their phone, "I'm getting irritated. Where is my property?", they texted Collin.

"I had them brought to a private room for protection", Collin replied, "I'll open the door."

Collin opened the door and waved at Tatum.

Tatum rolled their eyes and started toward the room.

"Hello Master, can I interest you in....", a seller approached.

"No, I already know what I'm looking for... out of my way", Tatum gruffed.

"Yes I apologize", they quickly moved out of the way and watched Tatum storm off.

Tatum came into the room and saw Whumpee's state.

"They didn't waste any time preparing you for sale", Tatum frowned, "I am quite irritated seeing you like this."

"Please Master, I-I didn't do anything", Whumpee pleaded.

"I-I'm well aware", Tatum sighed, "I can smell the magic seeping off of you."

"Collin will you help me untie them?", Tatum stepped closer.

"I told you not to do that", the seller from earlier came in yelling.

Tatum turned quickly and snapped their fingers.

The seller flew back into the selling room, and Tatum stormed after them.

"You dare steal my property, then tell me what I can do with them", Tatum yelled.

Collin peaked out the door with a grin.

"What's happening?", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum has reached their last straw. They'd burn this place down if it wasn't for the humans and innocent bystanders here", Collin chuckled.

Police had been called on Tatum's behavior, but it was quickly reversed on the slave traders.

The doors would be closed permanently on this company. All humans would be checked to ensure they were not stolen. All the others would be given to other sellers who followed more humane practices.

Whumpee was quickly returned to Tatum.

"Thankyou", Tatum looked at Collin, "I appreciate you finding them for me."

"Of course", Collin grinned, "I'm happy to help."

Tatum carried Whumpee home.

"Bed now, we will get that filthy place cleaned off of you after you've rested", Tatum frowned.

Whumpee looked down sadly.

"What?", Tatum tried to settle down. Whumpee wasn't at fault for this incident. They knew Whumpee didn't deserve their anger.

"Co-could I have something to eat.... a-and some comfort", Whumpee tried not to cry, "I tried to stay strong, but", Whumpee felt a tear sneak out, "I-I was scared."

"Yes you can have food.... you know I'm not the most comforting vampire right", Tatum glared.

"I know... b-but I'll take anything", Whumpee shook.

"Fine, let's get this over with", Tatum frowned, "let's get you some food first..... I'm guessing they never fed you then."

"No Master, Whumpee followed shyly, "unless they fed me through the tube while I was unconscious."

"I had thought you ran away when you didn't return when I called. I swore I would hunt you down. You knew the outcome for running from me. I wondered how brave you thought you were. When I came outside I smelt the magic spells used on you, and I realized you were taken", Tatum talked while they prepared a meal, "then I received Collin's message and I hurried to you", Tatum frowned, "I'm sorry", they forced out, "that should of never happened to you. I will take precautionary measures to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Whumpee smiled weakly as Tatum set a plate of food in front of them.

"Will you require a meal from me tonight as well Master?", Whumpee took a fork from Tatum, "thankyou for this food, Master."

"You're welcome... you may eat", Tatum sat at the table.

"As for a few days, I'll feed from the others. This way you have time to recover. Your blood won't taste good to me from the stress you were put through. I'll feed when I feel you're ready."

Whumpee choked.

"Slow down, you are over filling your mouth", Tatum warned.

"I'm sorry my throat is still sore from the tube", Whumpee looked at the plate, "plus this is delicious."

"Good", Tatum sighed, "let's get you cleaned up next.... then I will attempt to comfort you... I guess you deserve something for your trials."

Whumpee was taken into the bathroom, a different blood slave helped them bathe.

"Yeah, Master came into the kitchen and saw us eating, and they asked where you were. None of us knew, so they called for you", they talked with each other, "we were scared when you didn't return, then Master was ticked. Out of all of us you were the least likely to run from Master."

Whumpee nodded, "I would never dare such a thing, they would kill me. You wouldn't be truly free, constantly looking over your surroundings until the inevitable happened and Master came for you. With the bounty on my blood, they'd probably leave me in the dungeon and feed on me when they wanted."

"Probably", the other smiled, "in complete honesty, I don't even think Master is as bad as they could be. So what if they feed off of us, Master does it to survive, they have a right to survive as well. Master never hurts us unless we deserve it. We are well taken care of, and they don't over feed. There are five blood slaves all together."

"Plus they are a good cook", Whumpee laughed, "I know the care they put into us is to ensure our blood is of the best quality for them. I don't know many owners who put that much effort into their humans. Though we are fairly expendable for Master, it's still nice to be taken care of "

"I'm glad you both find me to be a good master", Tatum stood by the door and chuckled as the two jumped.

Whumpee and the other looked down shyly and tried to hide their embarrassment.

"No please continue saying good things about me. I've been listening for the last few minutes", Tatum came into the bathroom, "truly I am happy to know that at least two of you like me, and don't plan on running away. I at least know who I don't have to watch as strictly."

"You protect us Master", Whumpee looked up slowly, "why would we want to run?"

Tatum turned, "hurry and finish, unless you feel this was comforting enough. You are at least smiling now. Do you still require me to care for you?", Tatum frowned.

"You don't have to if you don't want to", Whumpee whispered, "but I would appreci...."

"Good", Tatum quickly left the bathroom and down the hall.

"I guess you aren't getting any hugs from Master tonight."

"I-I guess not", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee tossed and turned half the night, nightmares and discomfort gnawed at them.

They sat up in bed and looked around.

"My throat hurts so bad, and these covers feel like I'm tied up again", Whumpee looked at their hands, "I wonder where Master is."

Whumpee got up and grabbed their teddy, then quietly left their shared bedroom.

After a few minutes, they found Tatum by the fire reading.

"Why are you awake?", Tatum didn't look up.

"Nightmares and discomfort Master", Whumpee stood in the doorway, "ma-may I have comfort now... please."

Tatum sighed, "it's not my specialty to be comforting that's why I have six..", Tatum caught themself. They had just killed one of the slaves for not obeying and breaking rules, "five of you to comfort each other."

"Please, even if it's your hand on my shoulder, it would help", Whumpee's voice cracked as they tried not to cry. They held their throat, "it still hurts Master."

"I've already asked for the doctor to come by and check on you. Collin reminded me of a few things they would have done to you. They will be by tomorrow", Tatum sighed, "well if you must, you must... come here then."

Whumpee quickly walked to the couch and sat beside Tatum.

Tatum awkwardly rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder and then went back to reading.

"You are safe now", Tatum forced themself to say, "I assure you that will not happen again."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee whispered.

"Ymhmm", Tatum hummed.

Whumpee started to grow tired sitting there.

They closed their eyes and absent-mindedly laid down; their head now on Tatum's leg.

"Whumpee I didn't agree to this", Tatum tried to lift Whumpee off, but Whumpee was out.

"Great now what?", Tatum sighed and looked at Whumpee awkwardly, "I'm only allowing this, so you'll sleep... do you hear me?"

They rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder again and went back to reading.

Tatum's slaves required a full eight hours of sleep every night for their blood quality. Either Tatum had to wake Whumpee and mess with their already destroyed sleep schedule, or deal with Whumpee laying there until morning.

"At least no one else will see this", Tatum whispered.

Tatum saw movement at the doorway a while later.

"Now why are you up?", Tatum complained, "no humans should be awake in my household."

"I'm sorry Master, I saw Whumpee was away from their bed... I was going to check on them", the slave smiled when they saw Whumpee, "I see you got them."

"Yes I do, and if you say anything about this to anyone I will tear out your throat. Am I clear?", Tatum threatened.

"Yes of course Master... we wouldn't want anyone to think you have softened for something lowly like a human", the slave prodded.

"Go back to bed... now", Tatum ordered, "take your sarcasm with you."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

#whump community #whumplr #whumblr #whump stuff #whump ideas #whump scenario #whump writing #whump story #whump writting #whump storytelling #whump author #whump writer #whump #whumper #carewhumper #vampire whumper #master whumper #slave whumpee #blood slave #bloodbag whumpee #whumpee #caretaking #caretaker #oc #original story #original character #multiple whumpees

[brucewaynehater101]

Oh my god I *love* Silken Emperor so much. Hear me out for something though. How would the Bats feel about the fact that multiple *planets*, hell the whole GLC *including* Hal of all people, knew that Tim wasn't a human before they did? Tim refuses to tell them until he is *forced* to tell them via like in the original spider one where the poacher forced him into his true form, and then he freaked out while trapped in the cave. Of course the didn't mean to trap him by standing between him and the only exits he can get out while in this form (he'd not even going to try the stairs to the manor he does *not* want to even *attempt* squeezing through the clock exit).

Bruce asks if Tim has any other world shaking secrets that the Bats should know about and due to how stressed and distressed he is, Tim snaps, "nothing that would shake *this* world." Which means they now know that he has some kind of business on another world and Tim is mentally smacking himself for this blunder. He takes out his phone, shoots off a quick text and says, "I am to high strung from what happened with the poacher, I'm going to spend a few days with Young Justice do *not* bother me." As soon as he finishes, Kon scoops him up saying, "your uber has arrived hot stuff, let's get you out of here!" And the pair vanish in a blurry of super speed.

While the Bats spend the next few days scrambling to find out what's going on with Tim, he's just at his main castle. Sulking. He's on his special made throne that accommodates his massive spider body, curled up and sad looking. Nothing his people are doing are helping him in any way! They can't let their Baby Emperor be sad!

When they find out he's sad because he was forced to reveal his True Form to some people he held close who were scared of his species? Oh blood. They want blood. Who *dares* to force their Baby Emperor to reveal his beautiful form before he is ready?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS A POACHER OF HIS SPECIES?! DEATH. PUBLIC EXICUTION. THEY DEMAND IT.

There is so much about this that is fantastic.

Specifically these parts:

Tim accidentally outing himself by sassing Bruce for very specific word usage

Kon popping in with a "hot stuff" (Tim may or may not feel self-conscious about his form, so the subtle reassurance and affection is nice)

Tim sulking

The throne specifically made for his spider form

The citizens demanding blood

Just Tim, his empire, and constant support ^^

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!! #dc au #ruler of worlds au

[feminist-space]

"To help prevent errors, debt collection agencies must follow specific state and federal laws when contacting you about debt or reporting negative information about your borrowing habits to the three major credit bureaus. This is why debt validation letters are so important. If you’ve been contacted by a collection agency but never received a debt validation letter from them, you should request proof that the debt is both legitimate and accurate. To help you, this guide covers everything you need to know about debt validation.

A debt validation letter is written communication in which you demand to confirm you have an outstanding debt. The Fair Debt Collection Practices Act (FDCPA) gives everyone the right to request verification of the debt from the collection agencies before attempting to collect it or making a derogatory report about it on someone’s credit report. If you’ve been contacted by a collection agency, you can expect them to send you one of these letters within five business days.

A debt validation letter reports the specifics of your debt from a collection agency. The letter reports what you owe, who you need to pay and when you must pay.

The letter needs to include very specific information:

-The company or person you owe money to

-The date you entered into a financial agreement with the creditor

-How much money you currently owe on the debt

-When you’re required to pay the debt before the agency escalates the case

Debt collectors may attempt to collect a debt from you without sending a debt validation letter. If this happens, you have the right to request the agency provide you with proof you owe the money before they can report the debt to the credit bureaus. Debt collectors must provide written evidence of how much you owe via a debt validation letter. Without this documentation, a collection agency will have a hard time proving you owe a specific amount.

There are several reasons debt validation is important."

Read the full piece here:

#debt #debt validation

[dailyadventureprompts]

Hey there ! Big fan over here, you actually contributed to inspire me to DM ! But that's why i come asking : do you have a method to incorporate player's backstory elements into the overarching plot of the campaign and its theme ? I have a player who, i feel, is basically an extension of an NPC : he's the spouse of a powerful archfey (but that particular tidbit of faerie specificity is unknown to him, he just thinks they're normal farmers). The archfey send him on various missions and supply runs for their daily life, as an excuse for him to participate in the story. But that leaves me with a player with no real investment in the campaign, seeing as he's just there because he's been sent by his spouse, and i worry that I won't be able to neatly tie this together. So, what do ? Do you have any input on these kinds of situation ? In any case, thank you very much for your continued work !

Specific anwser for you: You've set up a dynamic where a character is reliant an NPC for direction, that's great, it means you've got a basis that you as a storyteller can riff off of. Ideal scenario? Send them out on a mission, and have him come back to find his archfey gone. Use it to bait a questhook, and then start asking juicy questions about who they are without guidance. Connect the disapearance to the campaign in someway (someone we dislike is a suspect, someone we like might have an idea what happened) and boom, instant investment.

General awnser for everyone: I find that players come in one of three types when it comes to backstory, 1) Has no strong feelings towards backstory 2) Has a general idea, an outline at best 3) Backstory perverts.

Group 1 are happy for you to make up a soft backstory for them. They're likely getting a handle on the game so offloading that amount of work will likely be handy for them. Just choose something they can easily wrap their head around and start building out a real character personality around as they settle into things.

Group 2 are playing along, taking their first forrays into actually contributing to the collabrative storytelling. They're always amazed when you bring up their backstory AT ALL, especially if you can route campaign/adventure progression through some of the deatils they supplied. The idea here is to give them a pat on the back for getting invested.

Group 3 want you to play with them (both in a game sense and like a dragon does with its food). They've supplied you with a backstory specifically so you can use it to direct them, get them invested, make them emotional. They've pretty much given you a how-to manual on what they're interesed in with regards to the campaign an its direction. The secret sauce here is to examine their backstory and make the narrative shift in ways they wern't expecting. "No plan survives contact with the enemy" goes the qoute, and the same is true for the player's backstory and the rigors of the campaign. People who write extenstive backstories want to explore a character, and sometimes that means seeing how their character grows in ways they never could have expected.

#wrinting #prompt postage #dm tip #dm advice #dm tips

[pandafruit]

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

#artemis fowl #fowldom #one thing I like about this AU is there's a lot of room for interpretation #p much anything could happen after Holly leaves #if you guys want to take this idea and run w it please do! go nuts!! #and please do help me w a name bc I am terrible at those lmao

[fictional-orphan-smackdown]

PENULTIMATE ROUND, MATCH 1!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

The Baudelaire Orphans (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

The epitome of orphans, they’re the best

“I’m having a very terrible childhood right now”-Klaus

The story deadass begins with them being told that their parents died in a fire and that they're orphans now. They then bounce from guardian to guardian who tend to always meet a gruesome fate at the hands of Count Olaf. Not only have they been orphaned once, but have been orphaned multiple times and are called "The Baudelaire Orphans" by not only characters in the book but by the narrator himself. They're called "The Baudelaire Orphans" so many times that it might as well be a defining character trait of theirs, and honestly it sort've is. The series doesn't even end with them finding a home or guardians of any kind, it ends with the Baudelaires fate being completely ambiguous with them literally sailing away from the island they were stranded on in the final book (yeah this series is quite the journey, I highly suggest it). These poor three kids are probably the most orphaned kids of all time since their orphaned in a new way almost every book and they deserve at least one win in their unfortunate tale.

These guys are like the poster-child of orphaning, we open the series with them finding out that they're orphans and also have no access to their money so now they hop around from place to place from weirdo caretaker to another weird/crazy/murderous caretaker and it's all fun and games and murder and decieving and surviving and thriving and---my point is, these three are a wonderful trio of siblings who love and rely on one another through all their trials and tribulations.

Literally every single one of their problems come from being orphans. They’re continually referred to as orphans and the plot of the first half of the series is them being shuffled around to guardians.

These kids are so orphaned they never even get a found family outside themselves. At least most stories featuring orphaned kids see them fulfill some sorta epic destiny or have them find a new home or set of loved ones of sorts. The Baudelaires? They're thrown from one fucking failure of a home into the next, ignored, hunted, etc.. It's been years but like, even in the end, they still have to set sail alone. As individual characters, they aren't bad either. Violet's the dependable big sister who's knack for inventions comes in handy, Klaus is a well-read chap and Sunny is a lovely gremlin. They make a good trio.

Every single guardian they try to obtain throughout the series turns out to be someone who wants the large inheritance left for them and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

They basically fend for themselves the whole series when no adult will listern to them. The whole series is them being resourceful and clever the whole series despite the misfortune. Violet is a brilliant inventor, Klaus reads and collects knowledge, and Sunny learns to be a good cook over the series

their parents die tragically in a fire and then everything awful proceeds to happen to them

I haven't read these books in years but if any orphans deserve to win a smackdown it's these fools, they are constantly in the trenches in those books goddamn. Also that baby is like a shredder they have that on their side, I think that beast literally solo'd a snake?

(This one was specifically for Klaus, but I'll put it here still) He and his sisters being orphans is kinda the point. As in many books, it's the trigger for them to change lives and navigating hardships. The thing is, their hardships just grow worse and "unfortunate" (read "dreadful") events keep happening to them as they stick together instead of the story getting better. Klaus and Violet become Sunny's subtitute parents and get through their more and more miserable lives together keeping hope things would eventually get better

Arguably more famously orphaned than Bruce Wayne, if not for how their story happens while they’re orphaned children versus an orphaned adult. Definitely have the most famously tragic post-orphaning story. All three are incredibly brilliant in their own way, including the literal baby. Pursued relentlessly by the leader of a maniacal theater troupe and letdown by a slew of adults, so it’s all the more impressive how amazing they each turned out to be. Book series was so good it got turned into a pretty great movie and then a successful TV show years later. Also can’t forget how these three are orphaned repeatedly as the distant relatives who take them in get killed off in increasingly inventive manners. Let’s be honest, ain’t no characters out here orphaning like the Baudelaire orphans.

this series taught me so many cool words and phrases and I love each of the 3 main characters so much

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny are peddled from caretaker to caretaker over the course of 13 books, always being chased by the evil Count Olaf who wants to steal the Baudelaire fortune that the children are meant to inherit once they reach a certain age.

Spoilers ahead, the Baudelaires siblings story starts with them going from being the Baudelaire kids to the Baudelaire orphans, after their parents pass away in a mysterious fire. But they arent the only paternal figures that they lost, they go from tutor to tutor, almost all the good ones dying in front of them, and even the ones that survive at first their future is uncertain since the last time the kids see them they are blindfolded in a burnind building, and we never found out who make it out alive and who didnt. Even the main villian, Count Olaf their first tutor, and the only constant adult in their life after their parents death ends up dying in front of them. These three are orphans ten times over.

They are THE orphans. They have lost not only their parents but multiple guardians that they went to live with as well.

They're THE Orphans. The childhood book orphans we all read, Orphans Prime if you will. They lose their parents, every caregiver who's ever kind to them, then say fuck it and live on a deserted island on their own to raise themselves abd fully embrace their orphan status. On the island, they learn their parents survived the shipwreck then died again - double orphaning even.

OH MY SWEET LITTLE CHILDREN THAT FUELED MY LOVE FOR READING AND THE MACABRE Violet- Won her first of many invention competitions when she was five with an automatic rolling pin (comprised of a window shade and six pairs of roller skates). Extremely innovative and genius, foiled by her kindness to others. And she knows how to make a Molotov cocktail. Klaus- Absolute monster of a bibliophile, conducts research for fun, and has a photographic memory. He is known to want nothing more than "a good book, a comfy chair, and the warm glow of a reading lamp". He also is a Herman Melville fan, which is points for him in my book. Sunny- Most people know her only for her penchant for biting, but Sunny is a distinctly distinguished character. She has sharp wit (as long as you can read it through her babbles), her poker skills are phenomenal for a baby, and she has quite the knack for cooking! Also yeah, the teeth. She climbed an elevator shaft with them once.

They are constantly going through it, give these kids a break for real

Chuck e' Cheese (Restaurant/family entertainment center chain)

Charles Entertainment Cheese grew up in St. Marinara orphanage and he loved singing, especially happy birthday. But he didn't know his own birthday (because he is an orphan) so all he could do was celebrate other kids' birthdays. His favourite part was the pizza. He also loved playing Pong and he went to New York City after winning $50 in a Pong tournament.

#poll #a series of unfortunate events #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #chuck e cheese #showbiz pizza #charles entertainment cheese

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

untitled

pairing: hyunjin x gender neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: eating disorder (specifically starving yourself), use of pet names (baby, sweet, love), hyunjin cries

an: this is the last repost i have from my dead blog. it was written waaaaay back when i was a hyunjin bias. and it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while now because i knew i would need it at some point. and that day has come. pls read with caution ⚠️ pls take care of yourself and skip this one if you need to. 🩷

masterlist

“Hey y/n, I’m home!” Hyunjin calls from the entryway. You can hear his keys jingle as he hangs them on their designated hook, and the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place as he locks the door behind himself. You hear the sound of him slipping off his shoes and the soft sound of his socked feet padding down the hallway. He gently turns the doorknob and pushes it open quietly. “Y/n? Are you dressed?” He asks, his eyes scrunched closed just in case.

You giggle softly. “Yes, Jinnie. I’m dressed.” He opens his eyes and steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Why are you in bed already? Are you sleepy?” He asks, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. He pokes your arm, which is draped over your eyes.

“Headache.” You tell him.

“Oh.” He reaches for your free hand and gives it a squeeze. “Do you want some medicine?”

You shake your head no. “It will just make me nauseous if I take it on an empty stomach.”

“I can also bring you a snack.” He offers, smiling. Your lips form a thin line as you contemplate what he is offering and how you should answer. You decide the best course of action is to agree.

You nod. “Yeah, I guess that would be okay.”

He gets up and leaves the room. You hear him rustling around in the kitchen. You hear the shaking of the pill bottle as he opens it and dumps the contents into his palm. The sound of the cabinet door opening as he retrieves a glass and fills it with water, then a different cabinet opening and the crinkling of a wrapper. His socked feet softly pad back to the bedroom and he enters with the contents delicately balanced in his large hands. He places a sleeve of crackers on the bedside table, the sound of the crinkling from earlier.

“Here, sit up.” He says. You remove your arm from across your eyes and harsh light floods your corneas. Ouch. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly for a moment, then slowly open them again. There he is in front of you, a glass of water in his right hand and two small white pills in the palm of his left. His long hair is hanging in his face slightly, partly obscuring his eyes which are looking at you, concerned. You sit up and take the pills from him.

“Thank you, Jinnie.” You take the water glass from him and down the pills. He opens the sleeve of crackers and removes a few, handing them to you. He trades you for the glass of water which he sets on the nightstand. He sits back down next to you and his hand finds your thigh, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth as you force yourself to nibble on the cracker.

“Why do you have a headache?” He asks, his tone a little stern.

Shit. You knew where this was going. He knows there are only a couple things that will give you a headache, and he’s drawing conclusions as to which one is guilty this time. He’s smart, and he knows exactly what’s happened. You shrug in response to his question.

“Have you eaten today?” He stares at you, but you’re suddenly very focused on the salt on the half eaten cracker in your hands. “Besides that cracker?”

You slowly shake your head no, still not looking at him.

“Y/n it’s almost 6pm and you haven’t eaten today?” His hands run through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He’s frustrated with you. You can feel it radiating off his person. “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night? That’s almost 24 hours, y/n.” Oh he’s mad. “No wonder your head hurts.” He points to the cracker in your hand, which you still haven’t finished. “Why is that the first thing you’re eating today?”

You look down at the cracker, silently. “Y/n. Answer me.” He’s using your full name instead of one of his sweet nicknames for you, and you don’t like it. It makes you feel like you’re in trouble, which you guess is true.

“You weren’t with me..” you say quietly.

“No, we were both at work. What does that have to do with anything?”

You eat the rest of the cracker, mainly to give yourself time to think of a response. He patiently waits for you to finish chewing and then reaches for another cracker from the package and hands it to you.

“I’ve been having trouble with food recently..” you tell him, your eyes looking at the new cracker in your hand.

His hand goes back to your thigh, his tone softening as he says “why?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know.. When I’m alone, I have a hard time eating anything. I’ve been hungry since this morning, and I had a candy bar at my desk at work.” You look up at him, meeting his brown eyes. He nods at you to continue. “I’ve had that same candy bar for five days now.. I just stare at it. I think about opening it, what it would be like to eat it, what it would taste like. I even tell myself ‘I’m going to eat that candy bar. I’m hungry, it’s okay.’ But I never do. I had a staring contest with it all day today, and yesterday.” You sigh, defeated.

“Why can’t you eat it?” He asks, gently.

You shrug. “I think about how nice it would be to eat it, but then I think about how guilty and ashamed I will feel afterwards. How i don’t deserve that candy bar, how I’m fat enough and that-“

“You deserve to eat, y/n” he cuts you off. You’re looking down at the cracker again, your head still throbbing dully. “How could you say that you don’t deserve to eat?” He sounds so.. sad. He lifts your chin with his fingers, making you look at him. He cups your cheek gently in his palm. “Baby, you deserve food.” He says, firmly. “But, I still don’t understand what this has to do with me not being with you.”

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a second and breathing in his scent. It’s comforting. He gently rubs your cheek a few times with his thumb before removing his hand from your face and returning it to your thigh.

“Eating is easier when I’m with you.” You tell him. He still looks a little confused so you try to explain further. “You’re like.. my safe space. I don’t think about those things when I’m with you. So when we’re having dinner, I’m not focused on the fact that I’m eating, or if I deserve it or not, I’m focused on you.” You give him a small smile. “But I still feel guilty afterwards about how much I ate.” You tell him honestly. “I just usually keep that to myself.”

He gestures to the cracker in your hand, wanting you to eat it. So you do. You shove the whole thing in your mouth at once and chew it dutifully, wanting him to be proud of you for this small step. He waits for you to finish chewing before he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly.

“Baby, you listen to me.” He tells you, his voice stern yet caring. Sweet, but he wants you to know he means business. “You deserve to eat. You deserve so much more than that, but on a basic level you deserve to eat. I can’t be with you all the time. I wish i could my sweet, I really do. But I can’t. But you have to eat. If you’re having trouble, text me so I can help you.” He kisses the top of your head and you hear him sniffle. You try to lean away, to look up at him, but he holds you tight. “Promise me that you will text me. Promise me.”

“I promise, Jinnie.” You say into his chest. His hold on you loosens slightly and you lean back enough to look at his sweet face. He’s wiping a few stray tears off of his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” You ask. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

He shakes his head quickly. “It just makes me sad that you feel this way. That you have thoughts like these and go through this daily. I just wish I could help you more.” He says quietly.

“Jinnie, you help me just by being you. By being here with me.” You tell him. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead.

“I’m going to go make dinner.” He says, looking into your eyes. “Would you like to stay here and rest?”

You shake your head no. “I’m feeling better. Could I maybe help with dinner?”

He smiles at you, kissing you gently. “Of course, my love.” He stands up and pulls you out of bed by the hand. “Let’s go.”

an: looking back on this now, it’s sad to think that i was in a place to write this and i can feel it coming back. but on a positive note, i feel like my writing has improved in the time since i wrote this. 🩷 so there’s that. now i guess im omw to go get a snack. it’s what hyunjin would want. heh

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hurt/comfort #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin hurt/comfort #hyunjins orange slice too

[moonshynecybin]

okay but fucked how the neon yellow issue shouldn’t be an issue to this day and age yet there it remains. all neon yellow. even if pecco inherited the friends and family business of giving everyone and uccio reason to hate on marc by being the best (and only, mind) vr46 rider to amount to anything as of yet (sorry 😭), it still shouldn’t be going that far, should it? it’s been… literal years? soon to be decades? what would the reason for the continued haterism from uccio specifically (that bet lmaoooooo) be if like, nothing changed and we are all very much aware that neon yellow will take “marquez fucked me over” to his grave… like the amount of aggression just doesn’t click in place compared to the severity of marcs alleged crimes against humanity even if uccio really fucking hates marc (for reasons unknown?) it’s just astonishing, honestly… what the fuck did marc do to warrant such petty and cruel and pathetic loser behaviour to this dayyyyyyyyy from a guy in his 40s!!!!! vale stop talking about marc every day so uccio can finally move on!!!!!!!!

girl he won against vale. its that simple

like theres a LOT at play in the uccio/vale dynamic that drags its ass over to the rosquez of it all but. essentially. uccio's life and career is all tied up in vale. in wanting to see vale win. in specifically doing whatever vale needs to be successful. and it clearly comes with a lot of love (childhood best friends !!!!) and a sort of. guard dog like intensity and protectiveness over vale's ability to compete and his LEGACY ! so marc comes in and is charming and talented and. vale keeps saying hey maybe hes the next me :) "it is not an exaggeration to say marquez is the next valentino rossi" and "marc certainly has the potential to be the greatest of all time") and uccio is like. what the hell is that supposed to mean. you are SINGULAR ?? GET UP ?? like vale's just come off two down years and this twink comes in, charms the pants off of him, wins the TITLE AS A ROOKIE, and vales just like OHHH WELLLLLLL and invites him to the RANCH. and on a personal level for vale this makes sense because hey he isnt competitive yet anyways so who cares. he'll be nice. he likes marc !!! but UCCIO is VERY protective of vale's legacy..... and i think hates marc on fucking principle because of that....

and then 2015. have you ever had a friend flop. have you ever had a friend in crisis. have you ever sat down with said friend and invented excuses/reasons for their floppage to comfort them because thats what you do when you love someone. like. marc is already a broader "threat" to vale's GOAT status, he's been specifically and persistently fucking annoying ALL goddamn season, and uccio just doesnt fucking like him anyways. perfect excuse. here. unburden your floppage, blame this SABOTEUR. and then theres sepang-> confirms him as reason for floppage/losing the title-> the next few years marc just doesnt stop winning-> MORE of a threat to GOAT status -> argentina happens now he's DANGEROUS to boot -> still fighting against his and vale's joint babies-> GODDDDD he fucking hates that guy to this day

#also marc just. gets vale on a rider level which i MUST imagine rankles a bit. BUT its mostly him being vale's self appointed guard... #in many ways the only way to reclaim power in a relationship where one is employer and one is assistant. is to manage everything so well #that vale doesnt have to. codependency at its finest. vale gives him a job yes but uccio is INDISPENSIBLE. and thats how they find balance #ego-wise i think.... #purpose entirely derived through your bestie... solving problems vale cant see... marc is considered one of those problems for TWO YEARS #until vale's ego is in such a delicate little place that hes receptive to marc in fact being an enemy #asks #motogp #callie speaks

[mvltiwritez1]

What Friends Are For - Angela Giarratana x Amanda Lehan-Canto

Summary: in between shoots.

DISCLAIMER!: this is PLATONIC. I do not ship them other than a duo.

WARNING(S): cuddling

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The work day has been unkind to Angela to say the least. Not only had her attention span been running on low, but she'd been more sensitive about the teasing she'd been exposed to from her fellow co-workers.

Her usual intrusive thoughts seemed louder today, screaming that she wasn't funny or that she was stupid and slow. They almost impaired her energy during shoots, but she tried to push the thoughts away and focus on recording a good video.

Angela thought she was hiding it pretty good, no one had clocked her energy being off yet. There might not be her 'second wind' bit for the day but at least everything was under wraps-

"Ange? Are you okay?" A familiar voice rang through her head, stopping every single thought Angela had at that moment. Her attention was grabbed from her coffee cup full of - now cold - coffee, and she looked up at the person standing in front of her.

Amanda stared back, looking slightly concerned. Angela shook her head slightly and her heart rate started going faster little by little as she answered.

"Uh yeah? Why do you ask?" Angela asked her own question, setting her coffee down on the table she was sitting at. Amanda looked at her for a second before replying.

"Well you just seem really quiet and checked out today" Amanda shrugged, but concern - now mixed with a slight sadness - was still evident on her face. Angela sighed and ran a hand through her short hair.

"Today's just been a bad day. I'm a little extra tired and sensitive so it's just a quiet day for me." Angela kind of wanted to cry upon admitting that. Sure, it wasn't as in depth as one would expect but it said enough.

"When is the next video we have to shoot?" Amanda asked, smiling comfortingly at her friend. Angela rose an eyebrow before checking the time on her phone.

"About an hour" Angela spoke aloud, remembering the time she read on the call sheet. Amanda didn't say anything else but grabbed Angela's hand and got her to stand and start following Amanda.

"Wait where are we going?" Angela asked as Amanda kept leading her to a specific place.

Next thing Angela knew, they were in a lounge area. It was completely empty but a couch, a lamp, and a painting of some kind of scenery on the far wall.

"Why are we here?" Angela asked another question, sort of expecting Amanda not to answer.

"I brought you here so we could cuddle." Amanda said simply before turning the big light off and going to the couch, laying on her back.

"Cuddle?" Angela responded, chuckling slightly.

"Yes, cuddle. I'm sure you could use some rest so come here" Amanda explained and held her arms out towards Angela, making grabby hands playfully. Angela rolled her eyes with a smile on her face and carefully laid on top of Amanda.

Her muscles soon relaxed from being unknowingly tense and she rested her head fully on Amanda's chest, their height difference very clear.

Amanda chuckled and ran a hand through Angela's hair soothingly, causing the Italian to sigh contently. This position really was comfortable.

"I'll set a timer okay? Just get a little bit of rest. Forget this morning happened" Amanda spoke softer than before, Angela had her eyes closed and hummed an affirmative.

Amanda kept soothing Angela's scalp while she fiddled with her phone, setting a timer for 50 minutes. Once she set her phone down, Amanda sighed and kept scraping through Angela's hair before the weight of Angela caused her own eyes to feel heavy and fall, napping as well as the shorter brunette.

#angela giarratana #fanfic #oneshot #smosh #writing #amanda lehan canto #amangela

[micewithknives]

Random interesting history story you like ? (Cuz I'm down, n i maybe need a hopeful or nice history story, not just abt how people killed well? )

I mean its not all sorts of wholesome but I think its fun... So hopefully it cheers you up a little.

So in Australia, convicts were sent to Tasmania (a bunch of other places as well, but todays story is set in Tasmania).

Convict women, upon arriving (unless they were sick, badly behaved, pregnant, etc) were sent out on domestic service. While waiting for that (or any of the above things) they lived and worked at what were referred to as the "[insert place name] female factory" (Theres a few of them around).

Today's story is set specifically at the Cascades Female Factory in Tasmania.

During which, there were a group of women who were refered to simply as "the Flash Mob". Not to be confused with a dance group, these women had no qualms with life in the factory, and set up for themselves what could basically be considered their own little prison mafia.

(Most importantly, the "flash" part of their name, came from their refusal to accept the societal expectations for convict working class women - and instead to adorn themselves with earrings, scarves, jewellery, and fancy dresses. Subverting expectations of fashion and behaviour, they would compile money from their domestic services work (or from more illegal sources) and collectively pool resources for tobacco, alcohol, 'flash' clothes, and anything and everything in between.

They also started multiple riots. And at one point baracaded themselves into the factory and lit furniture on fire... But thats neither here nor there.

Unfortunately, in Australia, they have been memorialised in a singular act of mythology, courtesy of the fictionalised tales of one (ex) Reverend Robert Crooke. (Though it was not entirely his fault that what was very likely his novel manuscript was taken as historical event).

In this very likely fictionalised event, upon being lectured by the Factory's reverend, all the women were said to have turned around, lifted their skirts, and in "a loud and not very musical noise" slapped their butts. (Its commonly commemorated in this postcard artwork).

Whether or not the women of the Cascades Female Factory ever actually did flash the Reverend Bedford is up for a fair amount of debate. Consensus seems to be that the event likely never did happen. But its done wonders to shape many people's perception of convict women in Australia.

Although personally, i feel like skipping on the outrageously gaudy fashion choices, means everyone really is missing out on an accurate version of what theyre picturing these women as!

#Australia #history #mice answers things #they let a mouse do archaeology?