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viktheviking1 · 1 month

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The scariest people are never the ones who immediately creep you out. They are the ones who are expert at seeming trustworthy. You may already know someone like this, and not realize it yet.

Be it on the Internet or in real life, it is important to be cautious around anyone who starts suggesting things you aren't comfortable with or asking for information that is none of their business.

Things no one taught you about the Internet!

Starting with minors (17 and under in the US)

DON'T POST YOUR AGE! Or age rage. Or birth year. Do not write 'minor' in your bio. This is probably the most common and most dangerous mistake! You will be actively targeted.

Don't pretend you're an adult!!! If a creep sees that you wrote 18 or older but act like a minor, they will do all the same tricks to become your friend, and know they have a legal loophole because they can always claim they didn't know! This is almost more dangerous than just saying "I'm a kid, come hurt me"

Instead just don't say anything! Don't post it anywhere, and don't add it to your bio. If someone asks you for your age, just block them.

Don't share your name or nickname! Even if you don't share your last name, they can pick up enough details about you over time that even a first name is enough to find you.

Instead, use a totally different name! Something like Eli_Bloodsucker is way more fun, just don't use it if your real name or even a real life nickname is Eli, Eliza, Ellie, or anything else even remotely similar!

Don't talk to anyone directly! Be it in comments or asks or in direct messages, they're all dangerous. It doesn't matter if they say they are a minor or an adult. If you can't see their face, don't talk to them. If you find a real life friend you didn't know had an account, don't talk to them. That might not be your friend. You can text your friend directly or talk to them in real life about it later.

Instead, just spread positivity purely form likes and reblogs. Pretend the comment and chat buttons are lava or acid or something. Don't touch them.

Don't share ANYTHING about where you live. Not even country. Don't tell someone about how it's always humid where you live or that there's a storm where you are.

Instead, you can share about weather vaguely later. For example, "a few months ago it snowed and I slipped on ice."

Don't, talk about an activity that would even hint that you are a minor. Don't talk about school, don't talk about piano lessons, don't talk about martial arts class, or football practice. Don't mention growing out of your clothes. Don't mention how your mom grounded you. Don't talk about your little brother barging into your room.

Instead, before posting any stories from your real life, ask yourself if this could also easily apply to someone in their 20s living with roommates instead of family members and working a full-time job. If the answer is yes, then post it, if not, don't. (Good example: I burnt my eggs but I didn't want to waste it so I still ate it. Bad example: My dad made me eggs this morning even though I hate them, and made me eat them.)

Don't post or share pictures or videos of yourself online. Someone can either use it to find you or steal them to lure your friends or other people your age into trusting them.

Instead, find a picture of a duck with a mustache online, and make that you're profile picture. Find a map of Australia and post that as your "outfit check". Way more fun.

Do not trust the person who reblogged this. Do not trust the original poster. Creeps will sometimes post about Internet safety as part of their plan to make you trust them.

So how can you tell who to trust, and who not to? You can't! That's the Internet. Better to play it safe than to risk your actual life over a post or a trend

Adult Internet safety:

Idk, it's your life. You know the consequences you might face. Make your own damn decisions. If your dad can't tell you what to do, then I sure can't.

Oh, and don't interact with people you know, or think, are kids. There is help available for those who are tempted to do this. Don't go down that path. There are resources, there are other ways. Having thoughts isn't a crime, acting on them is. PLEASE talk to a licensed professional.

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lauras-happy-place · 7 months

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MARSHALL MY BOY THEY TURNED YOU EVEN MORE ADORABLE SOMEHOW WHAT--

I really wished for more scenes with him...but we got a whole lotta Zuma this time. So that's good.

#cw all caps #all caps #kidcore #sfw agere #paw patrol #paw patrol mighty movie #fave

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sweetlyharley · 11 months

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Can i maybe get a mayor humdinger (paw patrol) stimboard with themes of cats, chocolate and makeup????

🎶-💟-👾\\☕-💜-☕//👾-💟-🎶

MAYOR HUMDINGER STIMBOARD

#@ with themes of cats, chocolate and makeup !!

#stimboard #mayor humdinger #paw patrol #paw patrol stimboard #purple stim #cat stim #brown stim #food stim #food cw #chocolate stim #makeup stim #eyeshadow stim #lipstick stim #animal stim

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ppfw-out-of-context · 2 months

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This actually feels like something from DeviantArt.

#peppa pig fanon wiki #out of context #out of context shit #ppfw #fandom #fandom website #peppa pig #paw patrol #tw kink #cw kink

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pointman74250 · 10 months

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You know how The CW took the absolutely harmless source material of Archie Comics and Nancy Drew and made them into dark, gritty, teen dramas? What if, in twenty years, they do the same thing but with something like Peppa Pig or The PAW Patrol?

“Tonight on The CW, Mummy Rabbit is out for revenge after Shelby Sheep’s shocking, brutal attack on Peppa. Then, on P.A.W: The shooting of one of his own has Chase facing his past sins. Tonight only on The CW.”

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entity9silvergen · 9 months

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My mom recently referred to the Paw Patrol as “mice” and this is the only way I will refer to them from now on

#mildly amusing #paw patrol #animals #cw animals #cw mice #cw dogs #dogs

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cinndarling · 2 years

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Atlas my boiiiiii

#oc: atlas fingermann #oc #cw food #tw food #food #disability #paw patrol

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volublelemur · 2 years

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is it just me or did they whitewash Ryder?

#paw patrol #racism cw

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buniebaby · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ BOO BOO ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

synopsis: Toddler Megumi gets a Boo boo but its ok mommy y/n and daddy Toji are here to provide comfort and help.

cw: pure fluff

an: I might as well do some more stuff on Toji and his little family.

paw patrol played on the tv, the sounds of the puppy crew saving the day filled the room as little Megumi waddled away and out the door. the door he had gone through was none other than the back door to the backyard.

as this goes on y/n and Toji were mindlessly sucked in to each other's world, thinking their 4-year-old son was still occupied. while y/n proceeded to make dinner, Toji couldn't resist not putting his hands all over his wife.

toji whispered sweet nothings into his precious wife's ears not noticing or hearing his son leave.

"You know once we put Meg's to bed, we should try giving Meg a sibling."

y/n giggled, all the man could talk about was giving Megumi a brother or a sister.

"Mhm Jiji you can't even keep up with Gumi's chaotic events, do you really think you could go for ano-"

a loud noise that most likely represented Megumi's electrical car interrupted the sweet moment between the 2 adults.

"Jiji what was that."

"I don't know baby."

both turning fully around, at the moment, the 2 lovers had realized that their 4-year-old wasn't watching his show no more.

"Where's Gumi?"

panic boiled up in both their bodies as a cry was heard from outside.

"Baby!?"

"M-MO-M-MOMMYYY"

running to get to her son, Toji walked knowing his wife would hog their son to check where he is injured.

"What happened baby?"

spotting her son sitting on the ground with his knees out, showcasing his scraped skin

"I f-fell ov-over"

even though his cry's had turned into sniffs, y/n worries did not die down.

"Come on baby you can tell mommy and daddy how you fell after we clean this up ok my love.

"o-ok"

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #fluff #jjk fluff #daddy!toji

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jasonsmirrorball · 8 months

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OCTOBER 14: IN DREAMS I FIND YOU JASON TODD

kinktober prompt: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. jason returns home from patrol. what's a man to do when you're lying there so pretty? you'll let him make you feel good, won't you, baby?

cw: f!reader, slight dubcon, brief dry humping, cunnilingus, praise minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact

Jason enters the apartment a little after three in the morning. You’ve left the light above the stove on for him, and where the sight would usually bring some comfort, there’s an itch under his skin that takes precedence. His gear is heavier tonight, clicking as he storms through the living space.

He finds you in the bedroom. The sight of you curled up eases some of the burn in his chest but it’s soon stoked once more, green haze clouding the corners of his vision as his gaze traces your sleeping form.

The lavender cotton of your sleep shorts flutters in the moonlight–how many times has he told you to close that damned window when you go to bed? In the morning, he’ll have to remind you about it. Right now. Jason is more concerned with the expanse of skin your attire bares to his eyes, drinking in the sight of your legs, the slouch of your tank top across your shoulders, material riding up as you twist yourself around his pillow. Even from the doorway, he can see the sliver of your stomach, the press of your nipples against your top.

You let out a murmur in your sleep and his breath catches, familiarity leaving him tuned in to your every noise and movement. His cock throbs beneath his clothes. He’s dying for it. He wants nothing more than to cross the room in two short strides and drop to his knees, to pull those damn shorts down and press his nose between your legs and–

He has more self control than that. Slowly, methodically, he removes his gear, utility belt set on the floor of the wardrobe where he’ll more than likely forget about it until he wakes the next afternoon and stubs his toe. The blood on the hem of his pants is a problem for later, too–you’ve rolled over onto your stomach and his jaw tightens at the sight.

So pretty, and splayed out as if in offering for him. He’d be a fool not to appreciate you.

It’s been a long night. Jason has spent the most of it in and out of buildings he has no business being near, casing out warehouses and drilling understanding into the denizens of Gotham’s back alleys that when he gave an order, they were to follow it to the letter. He has little taste for the stupidity of the crime lords, of the drug lords who strive to test his patience. He bears it better, usually, but tonight his self control runs thin, and all the violence has left him wanting to whet his appetite with something else.

He stalks forward, feet heavy against the hardwood, pressing a knee into the mattress and leaning over until he’s got you caged beneath him, nose pressed to your neck. He can smell the lingering scent of your shampoo, and when his tongue darts forward from between his lips, he can taste the barest hints of salt on your skin. Summer leaves you warm, always throwing the covers aside when you get too hot, and Jason finds himself grateful for it when his hands paw at the flimsy fabric of your sleeping clothes–thin, stretchy material that leaves little to the imagination.

He should feel lecherous, slipping a hand beneath your stomach to grope at the softness of your breasts, dragging his mouth along the curve of your shoulder and letting his teeth graze your skin. But he can’t find it in himself, not when you press back against him so sweetly, seeking him out even in your dreams. When you shiver, he lets out a hoarse laugh.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “‘M home. Missed you so bad, sweetheart, can you feel it?”

He pushes his hips against your ass, rocking ever so slightly into you and groaning when you shift, letting out a sleepy sigh.

“Thought of you all night,” he mumbles. “Wish I could’ve just stayed with you–I kept thinkin’ about this afternoon, wanted to tell everyone t’go home so I could get back to my girl…make you scream so loud, baby.”

He thinks of you, ribboned in afternoon sun, head thrown back. The image of you had refused to leave his mind, sun warmed and bare and all fucking his. Your pretty little moans ringing in his ears as he’d gritted orders through his teeth. He’d felt the bite of of your nails in his back with every step he took, clothes scraping against the marks you’d left on him.

A puff of air escapes your lips and you sink further into the mattress. Jason leaves a litter of kisses across your shoulder and neck, shuffling until he’s kneeled between your legs, nosing at your thighs.

“Shit, baby,” he rasps, a whimper caught in his throat. “Promise I’ll be good, ‘m gonna make you feel so good, doll–need you so fuckin’ bad…”

He maneuvers you onto your back, shorts coming off in a single tug before he’s pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, just a few inches south of where he intends to be. He laves at the skin, no care for form tonight, drunk on the scent of you through the cotton panties you’ve worn to bed tonight.

You stir, and Jason grins into your thigh when he sees your lashes beginning to flutter, lips drawing into a confused pout when he trails a finger over the seam of your panties, ghosting over where your heat seeps through.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he chuckles, nosing at the crease of your thigh. His other hand grips your thigh, pulling it up and over his shoulder. “Gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Jason…” you whisper, voice cracking with sleep. He can see your eyes are still clouded over, and you whimper when he bites–only gently, he’d never want to hurt you.

(Not unless you asked him to, but that’s by the by)

“My pretty baby,” he murmurs huskily, licking the spot better, tongue flicking over the indentation of his teeth. The sight of it only stokes the growing need under his skin, and he’s flicking his eyes up to you. “Need to taste you so bad, angel.”

Your fingers sink into his hair and he grins, not bothering with removing your panties, simply tugging them to the side before pressing the flat of his tongue against your pussy. He revels in the lurch of your back, pain sparking at his scalp where your grip on his hair tightens but it only shoots straight to his cock and he finds himself bucking against the mattress in an effort to relieve the strain.

“Baby, I–” you gasp, and he groans, gripping your thigh tighter. He feels like a fucking animal, slobbering all over you with no method or ceremony, tongue tracing patterns around your clit as you cry out.

He feasts himself on you, spit mixing with your slick as you writhe under his tongue, sleepy moans tumbling from your lips as you roll your hips upward. He’s in no better shape, steadily approaching his high from how pent up he’s been all evening, every single sound you make shooting straight to his cock. But he’s determined to please you first, lips closing around your clit and meeting your half lidded eyes as he sucks hard.

You fall apart in seconds, voice pitching and back arching over him. He thinks it’s glorious to behold. Your face crumples and twists, and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He follows not long after, spilling into his briefs as he tongue fucks you through your orgasm.

In the aftermath, you cradle his head in your palms and he follows your touch, rising and becoming distinctly aware of the stickiness in his underwear but you pull him in for a kiss and he files it away for later. He clings to you, slumping against you when you let him go, with his head pressed to your stomach. Your hand finds its way to his hair once more, nails scraping against his scalp in recurring movements that make his eyelids flutter.

this concept has been plaguing me since mid september and all the way through my midterm assignments. i sat down every single day to get work done and i was like...jason...coming home from patrol to love on you...anyway. this isn't as long as the first kinktober fic but that i hope u enjoyed this regardless. may we all have our vigilante anti hero boyfriends return home to us after patrol, eager to please and needy for us!

#banner by shoujo-dreamland #mdni banner by benkeibear #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #ro's kinktober '23 #kinktober 2023 #jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart

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lauras-happy-place · 2 years

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#mine #kidcore #sfw agere #paw patrol #fruit bar #food #cw food

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midnightmoonytales · 11 months

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hey can I ask Slytherin x reader what if the reader got into detention with Mattheo and Theodore and like in the first episode the detention was to help hagrid do something in the forbidden forest and the reader got lost and they all panic just to find tomorrow morning that the reader was peacefully eating breakfast at the campfire she build and be like "look guys I found a unicorn hair " sorry if it is to long I just can't get it out of my head

A/N: Uhm first off...I love this. Ya'll are feeding me, and I'm supposed to be feeding yall. It's also not too long, my dear; great ideas come at great lengths. sometimes. I started writing this at work and continued it in class - I totally have my priorities straight lol. I also apologize if it aint that good - I felt bad for how long it took to get this out

CW: Animal abuse, friends being sarcastic assholes to each other, death?. Lmk if I missed anything.

DON'T HURT ANIMALS - IF I FIND OUT YOU HURT AN ANIMAL IM COMING FOR YOUR KNEES

Summary: Mattheo and Theodore drag you into one of their little schemes, resulting in the three of you getting detention. What will they do when they seem to have lost you in the forbidden forest.

Not edited

WC: 2.8K

<><><>

It was an eerily quiet night in the castle. Too quiet, no student nor teacher in sight…not even a ghost. Halting to a stop, looking around suspiciously, straining your ears in search of a noise - maybe Peeves' vexatious schemes or Ms. Norris's beady paws- yet you heard nothing other than the wind blowing through the trees. Shifting the stack of books in your arms you continued your stroll back to the Slytherin common room. You spent the last beading hours of free time scrunched up over piles of books, preparing for OWLS. Chimes of the bells noted there were only a few minutes until curfew, most students had already found their way back to their common rooms - rather hoping to not be pulled into detention.

You hadn’t worried about increasing your pace, seeing as the dungeon was only around the corner and down the stairs. Even if you didn’t make it inside the common room before the last chime of the bell, the prefects didn’t tend to be in the area till five after. Clocking when and where at certain times, after falling asleep one too many times in the library. The sound of rapidly increasing footsteps and the shout of inaudible yells caused you to stop at the corner, confused. Peering over your shoulder, you noticed dumb and dumber running from a fuming filch and Ms. Norris. The smell of burnt skin filled the hall as they approached, you didn’t have time to question what they did before they forcibly grabbed you by the arms and continued running, the books you had just checked falling onto the floor.

You would think that the best place to hide would be the common room which was less than thirty feet away, and the benefit of Filch not being able to access inside. Unfortunately, Mattheo and Theodore dragged you down a different route. Up the stairs on the left, past the dragon statue, only to ascend up more flights of stairs. There was no reason that you would have to run away with these two - until the last bell of the night chimed, ringing through the halls - now you had no choice but to run from Filch.

The boys were ready to dash left - until you forcefully grabbed them by the collars - forcing them down a different path away from the group of Ravenclaw prefects that patrolled that section of the castle. The last thing you needed was to get busted by a know-it-all Ravenclaw prefect. Your legs were aching and your chest felt like it was going to burst from running all around the castle non-stop, but Filch was still on you. That lot of you hastily made your way to the moving stairs near Gryffindor Tower in hopes of losing Filch. He might have enough joy from throwing students into detention to fill his stamina for a while, but sooner or later it would have to die out.

You rounded the corner, the stairs were about to move and if you didn’t get on them now, you would be caught by Filch. The three of you booked it with what energy you had left, jumping over the gap created by the stairs moving. Mattheo and you landed barely just making it. Theodore on the other hand wasn't as lucky - holding on by his hands from the stairs trying to pull himself up before the stairs reconnected to another. Hastily, Mattheo and you grabbed him by his shoulder, hoisting him onto the stairs with you. Filch yelled at you all from his place on the bottom set of stairs that led to the third floor of the castle.

As you all caught your breaths you made it into the hall, taking the long way back to the common room. Grateful for the breeze cooling you down, you didn’t realize how hot it had gotten running. The adrenaline pumping through your veins makes it feel as if your body is cold. Maybe this was the feeling Mattheo and Theodore were always looking for. The excitement…the rush. The boys were rambunctiously laughing and hitting their hands together, sweat flinging from their heads as they moved around. Already feeling gross, choosing to speed up faster to get in front of them and away from their sticky sweat.

Rounding the corner, you immediately halted to a stop as you peered at the silvery-gray tabby cat, its eyes glistening eyes staring up at you before it morphed into a lanky woman in green robes, with pristine-pinned up gray hair. Any amusement that you previously felt earlier instantaneously drained from your body. At that moment, you wished it was Filch who had caught you and handed you off to Professor Snape, that would have been more tolerable. Maybe a little scrubbing of the cauldrons or the mopping of the dungeon floors. Mattheo and Theodore weren’t far behind, too busy messing around to notice the presence standing before them. As they approached your side, your hands quickly smacked them upside the back of their heads. Their quick remarks died out on the tips of their tongue as they finally recognized the women standing before them. You could almost see their souls physically deflating.

“Professor McGonagall, looking good tonight,” Mattheo said with a wink, shooting finger guns at her. A swift bludger to the side would have been better than being forced to see Mattheos’ weak attempts at smooth talking his way out of another detention. She remained motionless, but her presence was still ever so threatening. Hands clasped together in front of her, quizzical brow sitting high on her face. The wind appeared to be enacting a mirthless taunt as her eyes bore into you all.

“And what are the three of you doing away from your common rooms after curfew?” She questioned expectantly, her gaze piercing through your soul. A chill ran up your spine at her awaiting stare. There was no good lie for being on the other side of the castle during this time of night. Ms. Norris wouldn’t be the only cat you would have to watch out for in the halls from now on. It was like you were second years all over again, running into Professor McGonagall in her animagus form when you were roaming the castle - similar to tonight.

A horsed breathing appeared from behind you, turning around slightly, you noticed an extremely out-of-breath Filch and Ms. Norris. You hadn’t heard his lopsided footsteps coming, too focused on the trouble you had gotten dragged into. If your fate wasn’t sealed before it would definitely be now. “T-they were,” Filch started, leaning over to take a breath, “They were setting things on fire, burned the end of poor Ms. Norris’ tail in the process, ma’am.” It felt like you had hit a brick wall. Of course, that's where the smell of burning flesh came from. Not even wanting to know how they managed to get Filch's mangey snitch involved. Leave it to Mattheo to set things aflame.

With that, the professor requested that you all followed her to her office as she decided your fate. Maybe you would have to clean all of the animal droppings from today's Care of Magical Creatures class. Maybe she would have you scrub the great hall, or have you organize the entire library with the librarian. That would be a bore for sure. She sat at her desk silently, gazing up at the three of you every couple of minutes. Taking it upon yourselves to sit and relax before you found out your fate. Mattheo and Theodore took it upon themselves to start flicking pieces of paper at each other, not caring if it hit you in the process. It was a bad idea to decide to sit in between the two. “I’m surrounded by bloody idiots,” you groaned as you rubbed your temples, slipping further into the chair.

“Hey, at least we’re hot,” Theodore barked out, flicking a piece of paper straight at the side of your head. Mattheo laughed in the background, giving Theodore a high-five. Maybe you could get away with their deaths, that sounded more appealing than sitting with them.

“The only thing hot in here is the heat radiating from the lanterns,” you shot out with a laugh. Earning a ‘Hey!’ from the two boys sitting next to you. They weren’t going to be the only ones having fun tonight, especially not after dragging you into this. Mattheo and Theodore weren’t bad looking, but you would never confess that. It would go straight to their already small heads. They shared a singular brain cell most times for crying out loud.

It didn’t take long for McGonagall to shush you all. Standing up from her desk, pulling her glasses off to hang from her wrinkly neck, “Enough, tonight you three will be helping Hagrid in the forbidden forest.” She continued, gesturing to where Filch was standing in the corner, “Mr. Filch will guide you all there.” Filch's grimy smile spread across his face at the news. Groans left all of your mouths, going into the forbidden forest was a death wish. While Hagrid was never rude to anybody, unless they deserved it, being around him could be a bore. That was all left for Weaselbee, freak brain, and four eyes. You would think they were a gamekeeper like Hagrid with how much they hung out with the giant.

<><><>

The whole way to Hagrid's hut, Filch was going on and on about how he wishes he could punish students like he did in the old days. He even wished the lot of you a fake ‘good luck’, along with a ‘we’ll see if you're even alive tomorrow. His sickening laugh filled your ears as you pushed past him, ready to get this detention over with. Hagrid warned everyone of the danger promptly before rushing you all into the forest, complaining that it was us against the poachers. Whatever that meant, he didn’t elaborate until a while into the search, remembering that you didn’t know what you were searching for.

It had been an hour since you entered the forbidden forest with Hagrid, searching for an injured unicorn. Poachers had been on the rise and news got to Hagrid that an Unicorn managed to escape from their capture. Everyone was on high alert, between the acromantulas and dungbogs and the other creatures that resided in the forest, it wasn’t particularly the safest. Using your wands wasn't an option either, Hagrid was keen on it. Saying, ‘We don’t wanna get their attention,’ or something along those lines. Your attention is focused elsewhere. It was hard to see through the thick trees with only Hagrid's lantern.

The forest was dense and never-ending, fog covered the grounds making it hard for you to see where you were stepping. You swore you stepped on a pile of bones at one point, the crunch under your heel leaving you disturbed. That poor unfortunate soul. The further you walked into the forest, the harder it became. You swore your ears were playing jokes on you, a distant wailing ringing in your ears every now and again. It almost seemed to be beckoning you away from the group.

<><><>

Mattheo had lost count of how long you all had even been inside the forest. He wasn’t really paying attention, to begin with. To him, this was just another unfortunate detention. The poachers had to get the unicorn by now, their “attempts” at saving the creature were slim. It was the cycle of life anyways, there would be more unicorns in the future, but it's illegal so gotta go save 'em he guessed. He rolled his eyes at the idea, shoving his hands into his pocket.

Theodore and he tried messing around - whacking each other and jumping around - but were immediately stopped by Hagrid. Told that if they messed around they would scare the unicorn or attract poachers. Not that he cared much, he knew spells to easily get away from them or kill them. But he couldn’t mess up his father's plans, so getting away was the only option. Opting to mess with his wand in his pocket to entertain him.

After a while he started growing hungry, having missed dinner. He knew you typically carried snacks in the pockets of your robe, turning around he was bamboozled to see you were no longer there. Smacking Theodore, he prompted him to turn around, becoming equally confused when he noticed you were gone. “Oi, where is she?” He quipped, stopping to look through the dense trees for any sign of you.

“No idea mate, she was there a few minutes ago,” Theodore commented, walking back to where you were less than five minutes ago when he checked. He searched the bushes for any sign of struggle or broken branches but saw nothing. It was as if you vanished into thin air. There was no way in hell you would have gotten away from them without making some sort of sound.

Hagrid turned around at the sound of their voice, “What are yer’ talkin' bout?” He questioned, raising his lantern so he could get a better view of the boys. “And where's yer’ friend?” He searched around the area, worried that someone might have snatched you up from behind, but he was sure he would have heard footsteps. “We ought to find her, let's go.” He grumbled, not only was he searching for a unicorn, he was now searching for a missing student.

They had spent hours searching for you. The boys offered to split up to find you but were shut down. Hagrid couldn’t have more students to go searching for, finding you now was already hard enough. They had run into an acromantula nest at one point but luckily weren’t spotted. That was the last thing they needed. Theodore was unlucky as he had fallen into a hole, Hagrid spent five minutes pulling him out as Mattheo was dubbed over in laughter. That would be the highlight of his night. There was no way in hell that he would ever let Theodore live that down in his life. At this rate, they were lucky if they were to find you by daybreak.

The sound of laughter filled their ears, the three of them going on to high alert. Or, well higher alert, their shoulders tensed with stress as they were already searching for you. Believing it ought to be a poacher camp nearby. Mattheo and Theodore grabbed their wands out in preparation, worried that if they stumbled upon a poacher camp, so could you. Hagrid was getting ready to sneakily guide them away when they heard your voice.

Stopping, Theodore pushed the bushes apart ever so slightly to try to find you. Hagrid and Mattheo stood over his shoulder to see. They all sighed when they noticed you sitting on the ground, a small fire lit in front of you with an injured unicorn sitting at your side. They stepped through the bushes, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Mattheo spat in disbelief, “and with a bloody unicorn at that,” He was absolutely exhausted from searching damn near the entire forest for you, and you just happened to be with the one thing they came in here for.

“Awh, you guys do care about me,” You gushed, tightening the fabric from your robe around the unicorn's injured leg. “And all this time I thought you were just heartless children with parental issues,” you laughed. You had broken off from the group when you heard the distant wailing. Normally you wouldn’t be bothered to look, but something in your gut told you to. When you reached where you heard the wailing, it happened to be the unicorn you were looking for.

Her leg had a large gash in it and she couldn’t walk anymore. She looked exhausted. Approaching her slowly, you made sure to put your wand away and walk towards her with your hands where she could see them. She was a sight to behold, her coat shining as if it was moonlight. You understood why her coat was so valuable. It took her a while to trust you but eventually gave in. Ripping the end of your robe, made a makeshift bandage around her leg, having to tighten it every once in a while when she moved. Pulling out a baggie of mixed nuts, you offered some to her, while you didn’t know about unicorn diets you hoped she would eat some. Luckily she ate away, and when she didn’t leave after a couple hours you made a small, unnoticeable fire to keep you warm until morning. She snuggles up to your side, safely.

“Maybe we should have left you to die,” Mattheo grumbled, ready to smack you for making them worry. But they would never tell you how worried they were, they wouldn’t hear the end of it if they did. At the end of the day, or well morning, they were just glad you were safe. This would definitely go down as one of their most eventful detentions.

<><><>

@ghostofscarley @devilishwitchfantasies

#slytherin gang x reader #hp fandom #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #grimmie writes #slytherin gang x fem!reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #Theodore nott x fem!reader

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barrenclan · 5 months

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god the last issue was absolutely gutwrenching

all the visceral emotions

but i gotta say i absolutely adore that last panel i LOVE when the blood and gore is only slightly visible, leaving the rest up to the imagination

I very much wanted to leave Asphodelpaw's actual body only implied! Actually, Pearl Walker in the fridge wrote this incredible analysis based on Asphodelpaw's state of decomposition, which kinda rocked me if I'm being honest. I'll put it under the cut, and seriously, CW: graphic discussion of the decay process, decomposition, and dead bodies.

"Based on the blood still being (a slightly desaturated) red and there only being, like, one bottlefly on her, I’m gonna assume she’s in her second state of decomposition, bloat. The body begins to digest itself, excreting gases that cause the body and limbs to swell up and bloat. If you see the position she died in, her right (the side of her body touching the ground) paw is perpendicular to the ground. In this scene, her right paw is facing up, having turned about 90° counterclockwise. Unless Rainhaze flipped her body over to be back-down face-up (I imagine he killed her and just numbly walked away tbh), you could easily read this as her body having shifted/swollen slightly due to being in this stage of decay.

What’s significant about this being true, that she is in this stage of decay…is that it’s absolutely horrifying to look at. It would mean that her body, while still completely recognizable and intact, is swollen and discolored. At this point, a corpse also smells horrible, like imagine the smell of rotten meat combined with the smell of feces and vomit and blood and make it more intense. Notice how the patrol cats are looking at different areas. My interpretation is predicated on how I am interpreting the position her body is in, which is face up with the paw we see being the closest thing to them. Pinepaw is looking at her death wound, a lot of them are looking at her body, Plumstripe is vomiting (potentially implying that it does indeed smell putrid), and Slugpelt is looking at her face. At this stage, her eyes (if they haven’t been eaten by scavengers, as eyes are the first to go) are probably bulging/swollen. Like, the face has all of the soft squishy stuff that bugs go for/has all of the orifices that stuff can be pushed out of."

Thanks, Pearl! Horrifying

#ask #anon #asphodelpaw #NASTY!!!

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fallenclan · 7 months

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// cw • this fic contains discussions of grief, passive suicidal ideation (im probably exaggerating it a lot in the tags tbh but if its a sensitive topic b careful), dissociation, and nongraphic death. please take care of yourselves!! :3

me if cranking out fics of just me smashing characters with the angst hammer 18 consecutive times was a crime 🚔💁‍♀️

Brambletuft doesn't categorize herself as someone with an anger problem.

There are cats like Wormshade and Flyspots, straight up with their anger. If they are angry, they make it known.

There is Maplestar, his quiet fury. You'll never see him angry, it doesn't show as more than irritation, but the way his claws scratch on the floor beneath him, and his eyes hold the smallest hint of disdain. When you know what to look for, you can read him like Silverbelly does the stars.

Poppyfeather is similar; you'll never know how she feels unless she wants you to.

Yewberry is entirely silent in his anger. He doesn't scream, or shout, he endures. He puts his anger to good work.

Otterslip, so unlike his son, was incredibly angry. Grief driven and desparate and begging for vengeance that was never owed. So angry, paws driven by cold hard rage, he killed Stormsight with no remorse for his actions.

Brambletuft is not angry. She appreciates the world, she splashes in puddles and takes care of preserved poppies and lilacs and feathers. Brambletuft is a simple cat, who enjoys simple things.

But she can't say she's happy all the time. That would be a lie. But it's not anger. Anger has never suited her. Honestly, neither has sadness or anything else. She prefers to just ignore her feelings.

She floats.

It happens once, when she's an apprentice and she fails an assessment. Her legs shook themselves still and she floated away from the world.

She very easily decides floating is far superior to feeling, so she does that. She floats during battles, and patrols, and she floats through her ceremony. She only knows her name because her sister repeated it.

Henryclaw never hid who her mother was, not from her and Poppyfeather, at least. A sweet kittypet named Bun. A gorgeous calico, who lived in one of the small houses near the valley. She gave Bramblekit and Poppykit away to keep them safe, and that was that.

It never did stop the distant longing she sometimes felt, when Bluefern would curl into Jaggedstripe, or when she saw a new queen patiently sitting in the nursery.

That affection was something she wanted for herself. It makes her feel upset, and sad. It makes her float.

When she comes back from patrol, camp is in chaos.

It's a cold day for the season. A cool breeze drifts in and out of her ears, making her shiver.

When she'd left that twilight, cats were retiring to their nests. The ones who weren't sleeping or getting ready to were either on watch, about to leave for patrol, or finishing their prey.

There is a small circle of cats in the clearing, gathered around something.

"What's going on?" She asks, shooting a sideway glance to Pinefrost, who shrugs in response.

Then Silverbelly pushes past her, rosemary in her jaws. The clearing smells vaguely of mint and lavender. She recognizes the smells because once Hopepaw dragged her along to collect herbs. The cats part around her, and she hears a commanding yowl over all the noise.

Hailcrash, standing at the center of the fray. "Stars, give Silverbelly and Hopethistle some space to work. Shoo, all of you. You can come back out when we start the vigil."

The vigil?

Brambletuft stands and watches as the cats part. Some stare at her, pitiful expressions painting their faces.

It feels blue. Not the pretty blue, where the sky is bright and the lakes are still. It's the tormentful blue, of dreary blue clouds and pouring rain.

Poppyfeather, she's dully aware, is sobbing.

Why is she sobbing?

And Silverbelly and Hopethistle and Poppyfeather are the only ones standing there now.

She sees the dulled, gray speckled fur. Blood inbetween strands of fur, limbs stiff.

She sits the vigil. But she's not there.

She is hardly aware of Poppyfeather's wails, or her own tears trickling down her face. She can't bring herself to listen to Jaggedstripe's stories, or Applebranch's fond reminiscence.

Henryclaw is gone. Maplestar is exhausted, Hailcrash is grasping at the unwoven seams of the clan that are slowly unraveling, and Silverbelly is still fighting with her grief.

It sounds stupid, but her father is no longer there with her. Why do anything?

"Brambletuft," comes a gentle voice.

The moon shines bright. Normally, she would take a moment to appreciate it, but today she tucks her nose into her tail and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Brambletuft, the gathering is tomorrow. Would you like to go?"

That's Hailcrash, with her careful eyes and her twitching ear.

She shakes her head. No.

Archclan was at the gathering. She didn't want to see a single hair on any of their foxhearted pelts.

Henryclaw had a single wound to the back of his neck. Clearly meant to kill. His body was found near the Archclan border, and it reeked of them even with the rosemary clogging her senses.

"That's fine," Hailcrash says. "Rest, alright? Silverbelly will be here to check on everyone later," on Brambletuft, "and Yewberry is staying behind too. Poppyfeather's here as well. Take it easy."

Brambletuft has been taking it easy for a half moon. She's been floating since she saw the body in the clearing, with long dried blood soaking the rocks and a sharp pang of grief in her heart.

"Brambletuft, Hopethistle wants to see you."

"Tell her 'm busy," she snaps.

"Like, right now," the voice continues. She vaguely categorizes it as male.

Yewberry.

"Tell her I'm watching Waspkit."

"Wrong. Teddyfluff's watching Waspkit," Yewberry says. "Come on. You know how Hopethistle is. Trying to avoid her is like trying to dig through a stone wall. I'll go with you, if you want."

Stop inconveniencing him, her mind says. Yewberry has more important things to do than babysit you because you're sad.

"That's fine, I can go myself," Brambletuft mumbles, pushing herself to her paws. Her throat feels parched, her eyes unfocused and fixed on the ground.

One paw, two paw. One paw, two paw.

She thinks if she loses that rhythm, nothing will make sense. The world already feels jumbled and confusing.

One step, two step.

Yewberry is trailing behind her anyways, half hovering and half trying to give her space.

And then she's at the medicine den. There's a kit (Owlkit, she thinks) laying in a nest way too big for her.

"Brambletuft," Hopethistle greets. "How are you?"

Brambletuft dully blinks at her, silently urging her to make an inference. Based on her matted fur, dull eyes, and sluggish movement, she was obviously not doing well.

"Okay, that's fine. I just wanted to ask you some questions?"

Hopethistle says it like a question. Like she has a choice, because everyone in the room (even Owlkit with her two-moon brain) knows that Brambletuft has no choice in this. Not really.

"Okay."

"Do you want him to stay, or?" Hopethistle glances at Yewberry, who shifts his paws.

"I can go if you-"

"I don't care," Brambletuft says. It comes off a lot meaner than she wants it to, so she reclarifies. "If you have stuff to do, don't waste time with whatever this is."

Yewberry decidedly stays still.

"Okay," Hopethistle says. She looks at a tiny stack of herbs, like she's mentally recounting something. "So. A few questions."

"Yeah, okay."

"Have you been feeling sad, tired, or hopeless recently?"

Brambletuft glares at her with all the will she can muster. "My dad just died and you're asking if I'm sad."

Hopethistle blinks. "So yes?"

Brambletuft, with as much irritance as she can muster, stiffly nods.

"Okay," she continues. "Any feelings of despair? Like life isn't worth living?"

Her tail twitches. "Why am I doing this?"

"I'm sorry," Hopethistle says. And she does look upset, but not upset enough to stop. "I just need a yes or a no. Or a nod. Anything that gives me a solid answer."

Brambletuft blinks. "Repeat the question?"

"Do you ever have thoughts of despair or feelings that life isn't worth living?"

Brambletuft thinks of the weeks she's spent floating in her nest, practically dead to the world. Everything passed by in a blur of bleary sleep, nightmares, and pain.

She looks at her paws, and slowly nods.

Hopethistle's eyes briefly glisten. "Do you intend to act on those feelings?"

Brambletuft couldn't. Poppyfeather needed her, even if they hadn't spoken for a week. She mutely shakes her head.

"Right," Hopethistle says, her voice catching in her throat. "You have off from patrols for another half moon, until I or Silverbelly can talk to you again. Try not to isolate too much, okay?"

Hopethistle, in her own stupid stubborn way, cares. It's why she makes a good medicine cat. It's how she gets even the most prideful, stubborn cats to accept her help. She has an element of ferocity and sharpness to her that she most definitely inherited from her mother.

Brambletuft goes back to her nest, leaving Yewberry to stare at her with some expression she can't quite place.

She wakes up again, for the third time, restless and upset, and instead of trying a different sleeping position, she leaps over sleeping bodies and slips into the tiny hole behind the elder's den.

It's snowing.

Her paws take her across the territory, until she stops at the valley border.

She doesn't want to admit it, but since Henryclaw died, there has been something eating her from the inside.

Not some scary bug, or a bad piece of freshkill. It's something herbs can't fix, and it's something she can't walk off.

It's choking. It wraps around her lungs and it squeezes and it doesn't let go. It makes her throat dry, and her eyes burn, and her fur stand on her spine.

Brambletuft, entirely alone in the night, with a sloppily caught mouse in her paws, stares at them. Blankly.

She is stiffly aware of the cold biting into her, even through her thick fur.

She stands. Not proud or tall as she used to, but grief-stricken and tucked into herself.

"Brambletuft?"

Brambletuft whips around, hackles raised, claws unsheathed. Yewberry walks out, and promptly sits next to her, pointedly avoiding her (dull) claws and her puffed up fur. She probably looks crazy.

"How did you find me?"

"I wanted to follow you after Hopethistle's interrogation," Yewberry begins, "but it looked like you wanted to be left alone. So I waited, then I went on patrol and came back and you were sleeping. And then I kept waking up, and your tail brushed me when you were leaving, so I just decided to follow you. Sorry if that wasn't-"

"No, that's fine," she interrupts. Her heart pounds.

"You sure? If it wasn't, you can just say that."

"No, really. I don't mind. I don't want you to-"

Her lungs clench. Her mouth snaps shut.

Exactly one half moon after her first interrogation, Brambletuft is dragged to Hopethistle and she starts rapid firing questions again.

Brambletuft gives some half-hearted answers. Simple "okay", "no", "yes", the whole thing.

"Does it ever feel like you're living life on autopilot?"

"What?"

"Sorry, bad example. Caught it from a friend. I mean like, does it feel like you're just a cloud, drifting around without really feeling anything?"

"I guess," she answers.

Yewberry pauses. "Want me to what?"

"I don't.. ah..." Brambletuft fumbles with her words. Please, brain, work. Talk to the pretty boy! "I don't want you to leave."

"Okay. Is there anything you want me to do?"

"What?"

"I think you've been having severe dissociative episodes for most of your life. When did you say the first one was?"

"After my first assessment. I think I was, ah, seven moons?"

"Brambletuft, this has been going on for 25 moons and nobody ever figured it out until right now?"

"Just, stay here." Brambletuft pauses. "With me."

I don't want to be alone, passes through her mind. He would understand, talk to him.

The words die in her throat.

Dissociation is a mental process where someone feels a disconnect from their thoughts, feelings, memories or sense of identity.

Wildfang's word, then Sunwish's words. Silverbelly repeats them. Hopethistle repeats them again, with the same long winded definition.

Hopethistle listed symptoms like they were second nature. Knowing her, they probably were.

Some of the symptoms of dissociation include forgetting about certain time periods, events and personal information, feel disconnected from your own body or the world around you.

Brambletuft can't remember anything that happened over a year ago. She doesn't remember a single detail from whatever Poppyfeather was telling her about this morning (Wow she is a horrible sister-)

"I feel like I'm floating," Brambletuft murmurs. It's so late that the moon dips back over the horizon, the sun greedily soaking up every inch of spare dark skies and turning it to bright orange and pink.

"Oh?"

"Like I'm just floating through life, and I've been stuck in the trees so I don't fly off into the sky, but now I'm on the moors instead of in the forest so I'm just flying away."

"Oh," Yewberry softly says. "I don't want you to fly away. Can I be the rock holding you to the ground?"

Brambletuft laughs, the first time she's done so in at least a moon, and rests her head on his shoulder. He immediately tenses when she does so, but he doesn't try to move her (which he could easily do, if she was being honest).

They stay that way, then fall asleep when the sun shines right onto the creek.

"Screaming," Owlpaw says. Brambletuft whips her head around to stare at the apprentice.

Hopethistle called it therapy. Brambletuft called it, with passion, hell. Owlpaw calls it training.

"What?" Owlpaw tilts her head. "It's therapeutic. I always see you. You're so quiet when you're upset. Try being loud about your feelings, and maybe you'll recognize them."

And so, Owlpaw orders her to go to the Cliff, and scream out all her feelings. And yes, she said it in those exact words.

Stars, she's taking orders from a 8 moon old ball of rage. What's next, Salmonkit starts using her for climbing practice?

Brambletuft stands on the cliff. Wind whips at her face, she ignores it.

Yewberry is there, with his quiet support. He even offered to scream with her, if it made her feel better.

She humbly declines his offer.

Bramblepaw is quiet.

Poppypaw is the loud one. She makes enough noise for both of them. Bramblepaw is silent enough to stay behind her. Poppypaw talks to all the other apprentices, telling them elaborate stories of how Goldenstar saved her from eagles.

(It was so badass, she'd exclaimed. Bramblepaw had to admit. Yes, it was badass.)

The choking feeling doesn't go away. It never does.

But, she starts fighting it. She won't let it win. She gets up and she gets on patrol and she tackles a pheasant with Yewberry and brings it back, a Feather kept in her nest as a prize.

She goes to mark the border, and take Salmonpaw on badger rides even if she's a bit too big for them.

She climbs to the top of trees with Yewberry and they talk, and laugh (once they touched noses. Scandalous.)

She goes to the cliff, and she screams herself hoarse. And again, and again, until her throat burns and her face hurts from her mouth being open for so long.

Yewberry, with his not very silent support, bowls her over as soon as they're off the cliff and under a sparse tree, and she laughs and lets him even though she could definitely knock him on his ass if she wanted to.

"I should've been angry sooner," she murmurs.

"I think you deserve to be angry," Yewberry nods. His head finds a familiar place on her shoulder. "No, no wait. You deserve to be angry."

Brambletuft, in all her adrenaline fueled glory, nods, leaping to her paws once again. "I deserve to be angry."

"You deserve to be angry," Yewberry repeats, his eyes bright and happy.

Happy for her.

"I deserve to be angry!" She laughs (cackles. she definitely cackled). She catches her breath, and turns back to Yewberry. "I deserve to be angry. We deserve to be angry."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you when you do this?"

And, all her adrenaline dissapears, in favor of instead making her fur puff out with embarrassment and having her tuck into herself instead, with Yewberry's laughter in the background.

And the thorns constantly wrapped around her lungs seem to loosen.

-🍭 (the horrors (my organs) persist but so do i. )

i jhsut spent an hour and a half writing this HGELP

AUGH MY FUCKING HEART NOOO I LOVE THEM SMM.... crumbled on the floor holding my chest. i love them SO MUCH its unreal this just made me love them even more,, lollipop your writing is so fucking incredible i love it so so much

#fallenasks #fallenfic #lollipop anon

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