The chicken and the pig

Bryce reminisces about his first days with Roman.

(This isn't really what I set out to write, but I don't hate it. Ambiguously canon for now. Proofread only once — please point out typos)

Roman is sleeping again, his breathing slow against Bryce's chest. He's sprawled more than usual on the sofa, but he's leaning against Bryce, his face pale even against Bryce's faded Dark Side of the Moon shirt. Bryce nudges the television volume down until it's just a hair over muted. He puts the remote down and tilts his head, watching Roman breath. He seems calm, in his sleep. Peaceful. Bryce is fairly certain he actually is, too, given how he usually reacts to bad dreams.

A stray lock of hair slips over Roman's face, and Bryce smooths it back without thinking. The action feels so natural.

When did … this … become his life?

It's been just over two months since he stumbled across Roman. But that wasn't when his life changed, not really. He had a plan, like he always does, a simple plan that would have gotten Roman out of danger, out of his life, just a few weeks after he pulled him from that basement.

It seemed achievable, at the time. Not easy, but simple. Straightforward. Something he could spend a few weeks working on, engaging on an intellectual level only, and then forget. Continue through his life unchanged.

And it stayed that way… For a day? Two days? Three?

The first night was easy, and Roman too exhausted to really make an impression. The next day… Well, he let everything overwhelm him when Roman begged him to stop splinting, but overall, he could have moved past that without pausing. The day after that…? That was when Roman heard his call with Corey, which he'd expected, and failed to hide it, which he hadn't. And then been exasperated when Bryce told him how to hide it, insisting he wasn't trying to lie.

He'd felt better about it then. Felt like he probably could send him off to a decent life armed with a bus ticket, a new identity and a few grand in cash. And, of course, threats ringing in his ears, what would happen if he ever came anywhere near here again, if Bryce or any of Boss's people ever saw him again.

The next day…?

No.

That night.

It was the last thing he'd been expecting, although he should have known better. Oh, he wasn't shocked at the screaming that woke Bryce. Wasn't surprised when he was able to wake him and calm him, somewhat. He remembers that he let himself imagine staying to comfort Roman, but also that he was shocked when Roman actually asked him to wait, clearly torn between between the idea of wrapping his arms around Bryce and the reality of who he knew Bryce to be.

And he remembers giving in to his own buried reactions, sweeping Roman into his arms and holding him while he sobbed. Going against every bit of discipline he's worked to drill into himself for years, decades, and responding to Roman's plea to go home.

Was that it? Was that the moment he was lost? That he became a feeling being again, after so long being numb?

He thinks maybe it was. But still… He was hurt when Roman didn't believe him, the next day in the garden, but he wasn't shattered. Could have moved past that, rationalized it away as an off day, kept his distance from Roman emotionally. Been soft, careful, but not vulnerable…

What's that saying? When you have a breakfast of bacon and eggs, the hen is invested, but the pig is committed.

He could have stayed invested only, from that point. He thinks. (Not that he'd planned on getting invested in the first place, of course. What's the cow, that made the milk you drink with breakfast? Not invested, surely. Just…involved. Contributing. That was what he expected going in, really.)

Roman's breathing stutters, his face twisting, and Bryce rubs his shoulder automatically. "I've got you," he murmurs, and Roman's face smooths out again. Bryce waits a breath, then two, focusing all his attention on the young man snuggled against him.

Oh yeah. He's been committed for a long time, now.

Well, two months. Less…

His thoughts circle back around to their first days together. Roman's clear distrust of him, after that disaster of a conversation about the future. That hurt, but, again, he's sure he would have gotten over it.

He tries hard not to lie to himself. He doesn't think he is, right now, but he's not sure.

That was the first day they'd spent on the sofa together, he remembers. Roman didn't want contact, and Bryce tried to honor that, but he wasn't able to rest without it, and when he woke up, he wasn't in a hurry to leave Bryce's side.

Bryce wasn't in a hurry to make him, to be fair.

Was he committed then?

No, he decides, he wasn't. He liked Roman, sure, but he had no second thoughts about sending him away. Not then. Not later that day, when Roman got up the courage to ask why Bryce kept him alive, and almost seemed to believe Bryce's truthful reply. Not later that day, when Roman thanked him for the bare minimum of supplies Bryce supplied him with. Bryce was happy, true, glad to help, but… Not more, he thinks. And, true, he was relived he could help Roman sleep, that night, and fierce when he told Roman not to be ashamed of needing help, but not… Nothing irreversible.

The next day…? They looked at cookbooks together, which was nice, surprisingly so, and… All right, maybe at that point he'd have felt a little bad sending Roman away. But he'd still have done it in an instant, if he could.

Well… A minute, anyway.

That night, though… Roman asked if he had nightmares, too. Pushed for an answer, gently, true, but… Roman was concerned about him, although he'd done little to deserve it. Been better than Avery, true, but a bar in hell isn't hard to clear. And Roman still didn't believe Bryce was going to send him away, not then.

That might have tipped him over. Not to committed, not like the pig, but…

He watches Roman sleep for a few minutes, just remembering. Not analyzing, not trying to understand his own emotions, just remembering.

The next few days were rough. Mal's visit and Roman's reactions to it. He tried to pretend it didn't change anything, but he wasn't good at lying, not about that.

He is good at lying, though. He listened to Boss discuss his future without even a hitch in his breathing as he pretended the earbuds drowned out her speaking.

So why wasn't he…

Bryce shakes his head. That's not what he's trying to figure out, not right now. Not that there's a good reason for his current thoughts, but now that he's started them down a path, he wants to see where it leads. Needs to see where it leads, needs to reassure himself, somehow, both that his current life is real and that he wasn't lost to it within a week.

A week…

No, it wasn't the first week. If Roman had left after that, it wouldn't have been a blip, his feelings would have lasted longer than that, but it would have been fine.

Two weeks…? That was the dinner with Avery. Two weeks after they met, exactly. Several days after Roman's catastrophic escape attempt, and therefore several days after Bryce buried himself in work and found Avery.

It couldn't have been the dinner, though. That was a Thursday, when he had online plans with Jean, and he called the previous day to cancel. Jean already knew, at that point, just from Bryce's guarded words and questions about Roman's health. Your new kid brother, he'd said then, and he'd been right.

Was he committed, though?

He might have been, he decides. He could have kept living after sending Roman off, never to be seen again, then. It would have felt like sawing off an arm or leg: life-changing, not life-threatening. His life as he knew it could have continued, somewhat.

Not now, though. It would feel like cutting out his heart, now.

And he'd still do it, if Roman asked.

Fuck, how lucky is he that Roman hasn't asked? Isn't likely to ask.

Bryce kisses the top of Roman's head, just off from the part in his hair, and leans back against the sofa. He grabs the remote and switches to a movie, turning on the subtitles as he does.

He doesn't want to bother Roman, after all.

Bryce Stryerson RP Blog

Run by @whumplr-reader.

(Open to new RPs, mostly about Bryce's background, more whump than comfort. Bryce can be either whumpee or whumper, although I'd like to work out a few details, so please message me if interested.)

Bryce and Roman

Heavy on the comfort.

Starting with this post in July 2023, Bryce and Roman's story is a semi-planned RP by @whumplr-reader and @hi-charlie-here . Below are links to the long-form RP that started it all (still in progress). Listed with in-universe dates in parentheses. Please note, these links will behave oddly on the mobile app 😞. (Please let me know if I have made any mistakes).

July 2023 (July 18th 2023 - July 26th)

-> Following this RP prompt, we meet Bryce when he's surprised to find Roman in the basement of the person he's come to kill. He tells his companion Mal he's going to keep Roman, and takes Roman back with him. Roman overhears more than he wants to about Bryce's work.

August 2023 (July 26th - August 6th)

-> Roman attempts to escape, which does not go well. (We meet Sling, Lenny and Kyle.) Bryce is invited to dinner with Roman's former captor — along with Roman. Roman overhears another phone conversation, this time with Bryce's friend Jean. Dinner with Roman's former captor ends in blood.

September 2023 (August 6th - August 13th)

-> Following injuries suffered after being caught trying to escape, Roman gets a new method of transportation. Bryce is under the weather and suspects sabotage.

October 2023 (August 13th - August 18th)

-> Mal finds a new "trainer", Saša Petrov, to help get her project off the ground. He gifts her a new pet. Roman accompanies Bryce to warehouses to install security systems. Saša infiltrates a warehouse and meets Roman. Mal tells her new pet a little about Bryce's past.

November 2023 (August 18th - August 22nd)

-> Roman goes to the hospital to get a CT scan and has a panic attack when they try to give him contrast dye. Mal has Bryce and Saša over for dinner, and her new pet meets Roman. (Roman learns his name was James). Bryce tells Roman he can get him out after his surgery, which causes Roman to spiral.

December 2023 (August 22nd - August 24th)

-> Roman and Bryce agree Roman will stay with Bryce. Mal and Saša move forward with their plans. Bryce and Roman run some errands and eat dinner in a park.

January 2024 (August 24th & August 25th)

-> Roman gets new clothing. A storm brings a power outage and more nightmares from Roman — and a muttered statement that bothers Bryce. They begin the multi-day drive to the hospital for Roman's surgery and make a video call together.

February 2024 (August 25th & August 26th)

-> Continuation of Roman & Bryce's phone call before going to sleep in a hotel room. Mal has a meeting with Mr. Rose, where her pet serves as a table, but fails his task halfway through. Before he can be punished, he is captured by two policemen.

March 2024 (August 26th)

-> The two policemen take Mal's pet to a safehouse, where they "question" him. In a hotel room, Bryce opens up to Roman.

April 2024 (August 26th - August 28th)

-> Bryce and Roman speak about Bryce's past. Mal retrieves her pet from the police. Roman gets surgery, despite another breakdown in the hospital.

May 2024 (August 28th - August 30th)

-> Surgery arc continues. After they leave the hospital, Roman and Bryce run into someone unexpected in a hotel parking lot. Still wary of drugs, Roman refuses painkillers.

June 2024 (August 30th - September 2nd)

-> Roman and Bryce go back to the house. Saša begins to train his newest captives (we meet Madison and Ethan, as well as see Sling's perspective on the operation.) Mal's pet finishes his punishment, and she takes him on a few errands. Bryce interacts with him as well. Kyle and Roman hang out.

July 2024 (Sept 2nd - Sept 6th)

-> Bryce's nightmares lead to a discussion with Roman. Bryce's surveillance on Saša's operations lead him to plan an overnight attack. Kyle arrives to spend the night while Bryce is gone.

August 2024 (Sept 6th - Sept 8th)

-> Roman and Bryce go to eat at Mr. Rose's house. Mal's pet takes Roman out on an errand — cops find the two of them and take Roman.

September 2024 (Sept 8th)

-> Bryce retrieves Roman from the police. Saša makes progress with Madison. Kyle stops by and treats Roman's injury. Roman sees Bryce change, leading to questions.

October 2024 (Sept 8th & Sept 9th)

-> Bryce and Roman discussion of Roman's position is cut short when Boss announces she is coming over to see both of them. She questions Roman, then makes Bryce an offer he can't refuse.

November 2024 (short) (Sept 9th)

-> Bryce and Roman discuss Boss's offer. Boss returns home, where she finds Mal's pet.

December 2024 (very little!) (Sept 9th)

-> Boss speaks with Mal's pet.

Finally finished putting together a master post of my super-long RP with @hi-charlie-here .

There also will be original content for Bryce, very sporadically, probably starting tomorrow.

no longer in solitude

a little something from Port's POV this time (and by "a little something" I mean 2000 words). this is the night Sonny is brought to his new home.

consider this a sort-of prequel to this.

cw: BBU/pet whump, abusive master, whumpee emotionally attached to whumper

All day, the house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. It made Port a little twitchy. It seemed quieter than usual today, quiet enough that the florescent lights buzzing in his ears were making him sick. He had to step out of the bathroom halfway through cleaning the shower, scrubbing brush abandoned by the drain. He rinsed his hands and pressed his cool, clean palms to his eyes. Memories of lying alone in that cold, featureless room in the facility flashed behind his eyelids. 

He tried to think of something else, his master coming to mind easily. He had left for work that morning without a word to Port, just as he had the past two days. Mr. Oz hadn’t been speaking to him lately. In fact, he’d barely even looked at him.

On conditioned whumpees...

Y'know, I think one of the things that people get wrong with conditioned whumpees is their rules. Specifically, when a whumpee was in long term captivity/training and they later get released or escape.

Most people write them as latching onto a caretaker or new whumper, and begging for new rules so they know they're doing something right. A new set of laws to live by, a new framework to behave to.

And that's... not really how conditioning works.

Conditioning means automatic reactions. Your body doing something that was trained into you without consulting your brain first.

There is no decision making. There is no choice. The trigger hits, and you are immediately performing the correct action regardless of anything else.

You're told to kneel? Your knees have already hit the ground. You're supposed to be standing in one part of the house when a certain noise is made? You've launched into movement before you even realize what you heard.

These rules are woven into the fabric of your body. And they are insurmountable. The conditioning overrides emotion, internal conflict, hesitation, beliefs, wants... everything.

Your whumpee may very well hate what is being done to them, and after the moment has passed they're cursing themself and their whumper. They're still a person on the inside. And that person is still very much alive. Most of the time, they will have some level of awareness that what's being done to them is wrong. They'll be angry. They'll be hurt. And they will hate that there is nothing they can do about it.

But the next time that trigger occurs, the response still hits them exactly the same.

So now take your whumpee out of that situation. They ran away, were rescued, were sold. They got out. Now they're with new people, a new caretaker, a new whumper. Or they're on their own and trying to make their own way in the world.

But those conditioned responses are still there.

There's no turning them off. You don't just replace them with new rules. They are in your every fibre. They have been built into the very framework of who you are.

The next time someone says the word "kneel", your knees are on the ground again. No matter where you are, or who you're with. The response happens before you can stop it. If they don't know why, everyone looks at you like you're insane. And you feel like you are.

Deconditioning is an agonizing process that takes more effort than I can even begin to describe to someone who's never experienced it.

Every time they hit that trigger, that response will still be there. Over, and over, and over, and over.

Breaking those rules down takes YEARS. And it is a constant effort that the whumpee has to choose to undergo every single time. Progress is measured milimeter by milimeter. You're told to kneel, and you kneel. You're told to kneel, and your mind catches up with the fact that you already did it— but a little sooner than it did before. Then a split second sooner. Then as you're doing it. Then you feel the impulse just before your knees hit the ground. Then you have a split-second of resistance before you go down. On and on and on and on, inching toward progress despite the fact that you're fighting with all your might. And that progress is anything but linear.

You don't just start obeying new rules. You don't latch on to your caretaker's new way of doing things and drop everything that you were conditioned to do before. These rules don't just get replaced.

Conditioning is not a belief system. It's a flinch response. Programmed deeper than the instincts you were born with.

You can be ordered not to obey the old command, and moments later when the trigger comes, you will anyway. Because in conditioning, the action comes before the choice.

These rules, these laws of your existence, come above everything else. And if your new whumper wants to replace them, they are going to have to beat the new rules into you so often and so severely that the pain becomes stronger than the old conditioning. At which point, the newly desired response will very, very slowly start to take over.

You're not swapping out new rules. You're layering new, worse conditioning on top of the old. And your brain will spend time stuck in that split-second between both responses before one finally grows stronger than the other. And even then, the change will not happen quickly.

That is what your conditioned whumpee is up against. That is what makes it such a horrible—HORRIBLE— and powerful tool.

remember this piece?

unnamed guard dog is still unnamed.

TW/CW: pet whump, (former and current) dehumanization/animalization, distraught whumpee, whumpee idealizes death mentions of scars and injuries, long term whump situation, tbh not much is happening here but two old men are having a moment ig

---

The flames weren’t real. 

They were the first thing the guard dog saw when he was pulled from the abyss. Orange LED lights scattering through lenses and refractors, creating the illusion of a pile of embers that would never go out. 

And still, he noticed he wasn’t particularly cold. It wasn’t slick linoleum or cold metal against his skin, it was… fur?

He blinked and looked around, trying to get his eyes to refocus. He was on his side on a cream fur rug, facing a fake fireplace with neverending little fake flames dancing along the edges of fake logs. He turned over, biting his teeth together as his shoulders protested the movement. He was getting too old to be laying on floors, even if they were covered by plush fur rugs. 

Then again, that wasn’t up to him. 

What had even happened to land him here? It was a living room with high windows stretching up and up and up towards even higher ceilings. An luxurious-looking leather sofa, complete with a matching pair of chairs, made up the seating arrangement. There were bookshelves along the walls, a huge blue-hued painting of foggy hills on another. Everything looked needlessly expensive. 

Who had put him here? Why?

He tried to sit up, only to groan and rub his face with his palms as a sharp pain shot through his head. He hadn’t just been sleeping, he figured. He was always groggy after naps, but never like this. Somebody must have … given him … something- 

The guard dog lurched forwards, doubling over on himself and gagging violently as the memories flooded back to him, filling all his senses. The cold examination table, the clammy blue gloved hands, the bright light, the syringe… He would have thrown up, had he had anything to eat the last seven days. His pulse was racing, his hands were shaking as he grabbed onto the fur of the rug, trying to ground himself. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

Hear No Evil - Chapter 1

Rowan is an activist with the Pet Liberation Front. He has spent the better part of a decade assisting the cause as a multimedia specialist, but never spends much time with the victims he is so intent on saving. After going undercover as a buyer to capture systemic abuse on camera, he finds a broken boy that steals his heart. Before Rowan knows it, he has a rescue pet at home. Both Rowan and his new houseguest must take steps to heal and adjust to their new normal.

Masterlist

// Chapter 2 (tbd)

CW: bbu, bbu-typical institutional slavery, mention of noncon, noncon touch, sexual and nonsexual nudity, it/its pronouns used to dehumanize

Training the new slave – the first part of an interactive whump story

Content warning: slavery, imprisonment, dehumanizing language, implied future torture, characters express fantasy racism (slave owners are surprisingly not good people).

A few days back I learnt that interactive whump exists, which means that I need to make one right now!

I have assembled a list of prompts I would have fun writing. Every single one of them would be fantasy, and as SFW as you can get with the topics of slavery, torture and death -- I'm not interested in writing smut (nor can I do it well).

Each prompt states the main role of the character the decisions of which you would control.

1. Whumper/caretaker. A slave owner purchases and begins training their new property. Would they be an intimate and kind master or a monster turning their existence into hell?

2. Whumper. The leader of a rebellion captures the king's siblings to extract information and use them in their plans. Would they be able to break the royals' wills and take over the country?

3. Whumpee. Three friends are taken captive and struggle to find the means to survive and escape. Would they survive the cruelty of their captors together or choose their comfort over the lives of those they love?

4. Whumpee. An adventurer is lost in a mystical forest and seeks shelter in a suspicious manor. Would they be able to convince the owner to let them go, or spend the rest of their lives following their every whim?

5. Whumpee/caretaker. The leader of a small adventuring party watches their friends slowly die one by one to an unforgiving dungeon. Would any of them manage to escape alive and sane?

6. Caretaker/whumper. A young person finds an escaped slave on their doorstep. Would they hide and help the poor thing or use their privileged position to torment them more?

Please tell me whichever one you chose and what exactly you found the most appealing about it. If you have any ideas of what can happen during the story, please tell me about them too -- it will make them this much more likely to be incorporated into the plot, if not in substance than in vibes!

I will also need character names, please write if you have any ideas! Or any ideas about the personalities, appearances, everything!

i know we've all been warned that art is the biggest snitch but no one tells you that reading your own writing will make you realize things about yourself that you wouldn't confess to while being waterboarded

pov you're me opening my latest wip and reading myself for filth :(

Whumper who taxidermies Whumpees who have outlived their use.

Here's something from an old rp that didn't go anywhere. It was a fantasy world where vampires ruled over humans and fae were sort of an external faction. Content warnings: death, non-death suspended animation, implied vampire mind control, blood.

Vitrified

“If you harm any of my little humans, I’m afraid I will have to be severe with you. You’ll be part of my collection sooner or later, I expect, but if you take a life on these grounds I will drain you the moment I lay hands on you.” Lady Zherille went over to pull back the curtain all the way to the coffin. Five rectangular columns of clear glass stood there. Inside each one was a person. Farthest from the coffin was a man who looked to be in younger middle age, his crimson eyes and bared, unfolded fangs marking him as a Cold One. He was dressed in the finery suited to a high rank: a silk shirt with many falls of lace to his cravat, a brocaded black coat, the finest black leather boots with gold buckles. He had been cruelly handsome in life, with a ruggedness to his skin and features suggesting he had spent some time outdoors before his change. He was posed holding gloves in one hand and a dagger in the other, upraised as if about to attack.

“My husband, the Marquess,” Zherille said. “It was a special challenge getting him into the Vitrifier after he was dead, but before he turned to dust. I posed him bit by bit as it filled. Difficult, but worth it, I think.” She trailed a finger across the surface in front of him as she spoke.

The second column held a young woman, seemingly human, but deathly pale. There were rows of punctures on her throat. They were not bleeding, but they were still red. She was dressed in a lace nightgown, one side partly fallen from her shoulder. She stood with eyes half-lidded and lips parted as if in ecstasy, but her arms were crossed over the puffy lace of her bodice. Her hair was long and blonde, tied back with a little ribbon. Her eyes, where they could be seen, seemed to be hazel with flecks of green.

“Taurellia Hanellman, whom I doted on for five years after my husband’s death. Our acquaintance ended when she attempted to assassinate me. Under will I found that it had been her intention all along. I had never touched her mind or will before that, because I was a fool and I thought she really loved me. I became much warier of young ladies and gentlemen showing an interest in my person after that. She is technically still alive, because it was easier to make her pose herself, but if she were de-vitrified she would perish in moments. I think she is better memorialized this way. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?” Zherille caressed the corner nearest Taurellia’s face as she spoke, peering musingly down into the petite woman’s dilated eyes.

The third column held another vampire with bared fangs, this one a woman who looked very young. She looked more obviously dead than the others, her throat torn and a few drops of black blood spreading out into the glass as if it had just been slashed. Her face was wrinkled in a savage snarl. She was dressed in a stained tailcoat and a ruched skirt of fine material, and she still held a rapier in one hand.

“Lady Janne Gholoch, Dame Alabaster. She agreed to certain conditions if she lost our duel. I assume I need not explain the outcome. She put up a good fight, which is why I chose to commemorate the occasion.” Here she did not touch the glass, simply waved at it as she passed, giving it no more than an amused glance.

The fourth column held a young human, his punctured wrists turned toward the front with his sleeves rolled up, and a dreamy smile on his face. His eyes were a dusty gray-blue. He wore a black tunic and trousers and heavy boots, and there was a longsword on a baldric at his hip. He had a hat with a black ostrich plume.

“Nellan Torvich. He attempted to rob my carriage, and I brought him home on a whim. He lasted about four years, I think. He was notable in that he tried to kill me six times and once he came quite close. I tired of him eventually because he was rude to the staff. Still pretty, though, isn’t he? Such fine features. I had him pose himself alive, too.” She smiled at him as she moved on.

The fifth column held a fae. She had the attenuated, hollow-cheeked ethereality of one of the underhill kindred of full blood, her ears long and elegant. She was beautiful, but it was not a human beauty. Unlike the others, her eyes were shut, and she was posed more formally, hands folded on her stomach and holding a black rose. She was dressed in a white gown with a broad neckline, revealing the final bite marks on her throat as well, though they seemed more fervent than Taurellia’s, covering more of it. Her hair was long and the color of fresh moss as it floated around her shoulders. Her brows and lashes were the same hue. She wore a diamond necklace in the shape of a ten-pointed star and a white gold ring with the same design. Her ears were pierced for what looked like diamond dewdrops. They twinkled under the laboratory lights.

“My most recent favorite, whose entire name is nearly unpronounceable. As an assassin she just called herself Night. I kept her ten years after the morning she crept into my bedchamber. She was a delight for a while, but eventually she grew bitter and her attempts grew more reckless. She injured one of the stablehands trying to hold him hostage. Terribly careless. She’s a lovely ornament to my collection, though, isn’t she?”

She turned to look back, leaning on Night’s column.

“There’s plenty of room here for you, darling. So I advise you not to test my patience.”

Chapter 1. Stowaway

Masterpost | Next

Sunshine sparkled on the sea, its obsidian black depths dotted with blinding diamonds and cut by the wake of the Gorgon. A few stray gulls circled over the ship, wary of the rowdy occupants and the smell of fresh gunpowder and blood. Had Flint been an older captain, he would have curbed his crew’s enthusiasm by now – their drunken revelry had continued through the night and into a new day, the rum and festivities celebrating the lives of those they lost as well as the victory over a pompous Icarian Fleet ship.

If Flint was being honest, he hadn’t quite expected to take the larger ship with as little blood as they had managed. Two naval officers slain in retribution for the bullet they put in Cairn’s heart, and the imperials surrendered. Flint wasn’t sure if the captain was a coward or a compassionate man for so swiftly deferring to the pirates’ terms but knowing the Icarians it was likely the former.

Still, the loss of Cairn was hard on his crew – he was a spitfire hellion that always managed to make even Kell laugh at his jokes, and he would be sorely missed. Who was Flint to cut the crew’s rambunctious mourning rituals short?

“Cap,” He felt his firstmate step onto the upperdeck before she spoke, a shadow settling next to his own as they looked over the main deck of the Gorgon. “Friar found something of interest in the cargo below deck.”

Tenets of Growth: Part 9

Honor and Obey

First: The Path of Cultivation Prev: Groundwork || Next: title

CW: conditioning, kneeling, restrained, stress position, humiliation, conditioned whumper (whumper is also a whumpee, who believes they are doing the right thing), religious themes, religion used to justify torture, fantasy world.

Word count: 2,300~

Author's Notes: This chapter is a little lighter on the whump itself, and is more a way to exposit some stuff and set future scenes up, but there's a little bit of whump there too!

— — — 

After a successful replanting, Initiate Cedar has responded relatively well to his first meditation. The subject was the Vow of a Seed. Additional goals for his first day of study include the Initiate’s Code of Conduct, and I hope to introduce the First Tenet of Growth either today or tomorrow. 

Aster hesitated, her quill hovering over the page of the logbook Lady Lantana had given her. Her instructions had been to write about every aspect of Cedar’s training for the Cultivator to review, but something held her back from putting her question to paper. She had learned that she was not to show any doubt, so how would Lady Lantana react if she expressed her difficulty? 

A challenge I have encountered is my own inexperience with the– 

She paused, considering her words. 

–physical aspects of cultivation. I find myself wishing for the knowledge that Pruners have of the human body, of how much it can take before succumbing to pain or exhaustion. Still, I remain optimistic about Initiate Cedar’s progress. 

An oldie, but a favourite.

Happy Glorious 25th of May.

i do not ghost purposely i just have no idea what to say ever

and i have no concept of passage of time

classification of fractures (source: merck manual)

Common types of fracture lines

Transverse fractures are perpendicular to the long axis of a bone.

Oblique fractures occur at an angle.

Spiral fractures result from a rotatory mechanism; on x-rays, they are differentiated from oblique fractures by a component parallel to the long axis of bone in at least 1 view.

Comminuted fractures have > 2 bone fragments. Comminuted fractures include segmental fractures (2 separate breaks in a bone).

Avulsion fractures are caused by a tendon dislodging a bone fragment.

In impacted fractures, bone fragments are driven into each other, shortening the bone; these fractures may be visible as a focal abnormal density in trabeculae or irregularities in bone cortex.

Torus fractures (buckling of the bone cortex) and greenstick fractures (cracks in only 1 side of the cortex) are childhood fractures.

— https://www.merckmanuals.com/professional/injuries-poisoning/fractures/overview-of-fractures