#Severin is my OTHER medic OC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-tf2-gremlin · 10 months

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Chapter 2: Meet the Family

It had been a couple hours before the guards really did anything. More than likely they were probably revamping a damaged holding tent for himself and his vater. The thought made his heart sank. In typical fashion, he was quickly ripped out of his vater’s arms the moment the commander deemed the holding tent sufficient, after watching their creepy old curmudgeon of a warlock mess with it for a bit. Probably enchanting it, just like his old one. It made him shiver. He HATED his old holding tent. The new one was probably worse.

Within a flash he felt a stong pair of arms grab around his mid section, aggressively jerking him out of his vater’s safe comforting arms. Chaos quickly broke out after, as his vater snapped, actually managing to sink his teeth into one of the men’s arms, after nailing one in the nose. Judging from their wail they certainly would be seeing a DIFFERENT doctor to mend the broken fragments of bone. By the time they had secured his vater who was in a blind rage, they quickly landed a very hard hit to the gut, knocking the wind out of him, and making him collapse to his knees, gasping for air.

Galvin knew better than to struggle much, only squirming lightly to shift his bruising ribs and aching chest. Being carefully tucked over a shoulder of a huge body guard like a dead animal seriously was insulting! His arms were folded and he huffed and attempted a few kicks and bangs with clenched fists, but the guard only seemed to laugh and make a snark comment of thanks for the massage, for his shoulder was getting achey.

This made him scowl and fold his arms, with a loud horse like huff. Being that he was facing backwards, he hasn’t the fainest idea where he was being led. When he did realize it, a cold sweat littered his face and cheeks, his skin going clammy and pale-r. He was being sent just out of earshot range of the COMMANDER’S tent. Oh this meant he really did mess up this time-

Despite the futile nature of it, he immediately began to thrash and struggle, making the guard’s massive hand grasp him firmly before pulling him off his shoulder. The man’s single hand could’ve easily engulfed his entire head, and he had absolutely no trouble wrangling his small frame. With ease, the man set him with his back to a very thick stake, which was the main support of the leather lined tent. The ground was uncovered and mostly dirt and moss patches, with a bowl and water and food for what looked like a rabbit close to the doorway. It was just like his old tent, but much smaller.

Despite his pleading, the man firmly but not too harshly grabbed his wrists, easily pinning his hands and wrists still as he bound the shackles on his wrists. After about 5 minutes the pleading stopped, followed by silent tears and sniffling. The guard remained stoic and silent, but judging from the look on his face he wasn’t enjoying his job.

The guard refused to meet his eyes. Much to his own shock, Galvin could see guilt and suppressed possible self loathing in them, and regret. The man’s conscious seemed unhappy with chaining a very young man to a post in a war camp. Perhaps they thought it was wrong…? And maybe his conscious was battling itself, for chaining him up like some animal… A small hole flickered in his chest…

With a faint humph, the man carefully ran a hand behind his neck, making him flinch. A chill ran down his spine, as the second joined in, fiddling with the necklace around his neck. As he stared downwards, he saw new sets of shackles on the ground…. Four new ones, also looking like they had been new additions for his.. real self. His pupils went to pin pricks and his breathing became fast and rapid. Maybe they really were going to mount his head on a wall-

The disconnect of the magic always made him yelp. A sharp static ran through his body, making him grimace and whimper at the pain. Why didn’t they enchant it to be painless?! It was POSSIBLE!!! Why?! The guard stood, the large gem pendant hanging from a gold thin chain in his massive hand. The man kept his gaze averted, as if actually giving him privacy. It provided him little comfort as his body began to shift and change against his will. Oh how he HATED THIS PART-

Pain raked through his body, making him nearly convulse on he floor. His lower body expanded and grew, at such an alarming rate. Much like a werewolves transformation, it was like the growing pains of becoming an adult, but magnified and much much stronger. Wails and cries of a wounded animal echoed through the tent, though not a sound escaped the leather walls.

The gems dangling from the ceiling gleamed gently, giving off an unsettling aura and power. Each contained very carefully crafted spells prevented anyone but the Commander, his right hand man and the guard from getting in, and muffling all the sound coming from inside the tent. The gems and charms were crafted by the old warlock named Balthmoth. He hated that man. The man who enchanted all of these, the necklace, the shackles-

The guard watched in silent horror as his body grew and stretched before his eyes. It was utterly horrifying, but once his had stopped growing, Galvin was left doubled over, heaving hard ragged breaths, tears running down his face. All he could do was lean heavily on the wooden post, absolutely spent and exhausted. There was no fight left in him. When the guard realized that he not a threat, he carefully approached and attached the remaining shackles around his newly formed legs; all four of them.

One of his legs covered by his very long tail, dark grey at the base which quickly became all black. Timidly the guard brushed it aside, and jumped the moment Galvin snapped and lunged at him, claws and large canines bared. This made the guard grimace and double back, trembling slightly. When he was passing by weeks ago, he overheard Balthmoth mentioning the necklace had, unwanted side effects on him. Such as increased aggression, disorientation, nausea vomiting, and changes in appetite. All of which he certainly was feeling.

His mind reeled and his stomach ached and clawed at him from the inside, and he felt extremely lost and confused. Where was his Vater?! Why was he there?! His head throbbed and spun, he could barely see straight. Why did his whole body hurt?… It only took a moment before he felt some of his stomach contents from earlier come back up with a vengeance, thankfully missing him entirely. To that he was extremely grateful.

A small sound at the back of the tent drew his attention. A deep guttural growl escaped his lips, revealing the large now numerous incisors and canines lining his gums. The darkness of the room didn’t bother him one bit, as his piercing blue eyes were wide and glowing faintly, his pupils thin and cat like. The long deal black grey tail lashed, covering and uncovering his thick muscular quadrupedal body. Despite being chained up like an animal, he was not going to die like one.

The guard had managed to tuck himself into the corner of the tent. He was pinned. Unfortunately, the tent was longer than it was wide. Meaning, in order to get to the only exit, he had to maneuver AROUND him. Despite being fully chained down to the post, he still could claw and snap and kick somewhat. Now his legs are a lot longer, and he had a lot more speed and power on his side. And the guard seemed to realize this, as the eerie piercing blue eyes stared him down like a piece of prey. Judging from the guard’s horrified expression, they were learning they have made a GRAVE mistake.

Galvin studied them hungrily, his tail lashing and feeling his hunger grow stronger. Instincts seemed to overwhelm his rationality, all he felt was his desire and drive to sink his teeth and claws into that tasty piece of meat sitting in the corner. The guard seemed to sweat more realizing he hadn’t seen Galvin blink once.

All he did was stare, much like an owl’s eyes they were fully open, his long jet black wavy locks blocking one of his eyes, and if you stared hard enough you could see faint streaks of grey mixed in like salt and pepper. The back of his head was shorter, but still long enough to just touch the back of his neck. Also, the hairs feathering down his neck were sticking straight up like hackles, making him look like a literal feral animal.

Realizing he didn’t have much of a choice, the guard gave a war cry and made a break for it, charging full speed and doing a tumble roll, attempting to dodge Galvin’s lunge. Galvin struck quickly, but his eyes widened as the man managed to slip just under his swipe, and missing the snap of his jaws by an inch. The guard skidded painfully on his side, grinning broadly with a loud HAH thinking he came out unscathed.

There was a long pause, as Galvin turned to the guard, smiling faintly with something gleaming on his face that wasn’t there moments ago. When the guard glanced down, he saw a sizable bite mark and blood trickling from his left chest, just under the ribs. The way Galvin seemed to BEAM knowing he had made the guard pay for what he did to him seemed to satisfy him, as Galvin hissed angrily at the guard, before doing his best to make himself as comfortable as he could. The guard wasn’t a absolute moron. Just an average moron.

Seeming to sense the conflict was over, the guard slowly rose to his feet, gripping his side and limping out of the tent, now noticing the deep lacerations on his mid thigh. The guard forgot something important. Galvin had two hands, and very long claws in his natural form. And the fact Galvin was not an average, whatever he was. As the man limped off, Galvin glared angrily, tail lashing and showing displays of aggression, tail lashing and his pointed ears pinning back, followed by snarling and snapping jaws.

It wouldn’t be for a while later that Galvin would wake up, not having the faintest idea what happened, why his body hurt so much and why his mouth was tasting like blood. It was at these times, he was truly scared. Sometimes it made him question what he really was, and it scares him down to his very core. Missing pieces of his memory, and the unfortunate times when the memories eventually did come creeping back to him. He wasn’t sure which was worse, knowing or not knowing… It didn’t matter, though. All he did was fight back more tears as he sniffed and wrapped his long tail around himself, realizing it was going to be a long and cold night… or nights… he just hoped his vater was alright…

Meanwhile, in the Commander’s tent, the famously known “deranged Medic” was currently having a delightful time. Littered and covered in varying sized and shaped bruises, potentially a broken nose, blood trickling down from both his lips and nose, alongside with his glasses that were shattered and snapped in half at his feet. Downright SPLENDID. Not that he seemed to mind it much, anymore. The pain reminded him that he was…. EH… more or less still alive. At least he thinks so… it’s hard to tell nowadays.

The best punchline was that much to his delight, they so conveniently bound his hands and arms behind his back to the chair, along with his legs to the study mahogany legs. Such a shame, this probably was an antique chair, too! Ruined with all his blood now. What a pity. It was his favorite… now it was ruined. Still, it could be useful, he mused. Like using it after he finds a opportunity to safely get Galvin out of the Command Post they were both currently being held hostage in and bash their heads in with it. Would be hard to sit in after if it broke. At least the chair would get revenge in it’s final hours.

Much to his misery his head was pounding and his ears were ringing, and the lieutenant was screaming something about nearly costing them everything and blah blah blah blah blah… did he EVER RUN out of air? This was getting annoying now. If he had his way he would’ve cut his tongue out and strangled him with it MONTHS AGO! But… for the sake of his son, he couldn’t do anything hasty or rash. Yet. Once Galvin was far far out of harm’s way… all this fresh meat was fair game. It made him salivate… all the new fresh experiments ingredients~! Amongst… other things…

His mind wandered lazily as he rolled his neck, grimacing when it gave a very loud and painful POP. Oh he was really going to feel that one later. That lieutenant sure knew how to misalign bones… fortunately he was a … ER… formerly licensed professional, so it was PROBABLY fine. He thinks… 80% sure… The train of thought was thrown off the tracks violently when the lieutenant hands came crashing down on the arms of the chair, snapping him to attention immediately.

Oh, he really needed to have that checked out, his eyes didn’t focus on the man in front of him immediately. Well, that’s a shame. Honestly he was getting tired of this game of cat and mouse. So he slowly looked up, doing his best to show even a fraction of a care. It must’ve shown because he swiftly was met with the back of the lieutenant’s hand, right across his left cheek. The strike STUNG, and made him bristle. If they had laid a single hand on his sohn he would absolutely rip every single person here limb from limb. A single bruise, and he wouldn’t care anymore. He easily can handle this, but Galvin… this was too much trauma as it is… And this was never supposed to happen… not to him. They would all pay for dragging Galvin into their mess-

“Fer the last time ya damn monster, ya pull another stunt like that ‘gain, and ah promise ya you and yer son will both be mounted on the Commander’s wall and gifted to the king as gifts. OR, they’ll offer yer son as a pet t’ his majesty along with yer head…. Sure yer lil ABOMINATION of a son would love watchin’ that huh?!” The lieutenant spat viciously, and flinched back as he nearly snapped the ropes binding him to the chair, finally getting the reaction he was seeking.

The stout man before him sneered venomously, before folding his passive arms over his broad dense chest. With a gruff sniff he turned his head to the side and grit his teeth, before glancing back at him. He leaned down a bit to be face to face with him, his expression distant and vague, probably his attempt at trying to have a poker face. It wasn’t convincing.

“Listen. Right now, yer son ain’t gettin’ hurt. If ya keep this lil’ GAME ya think yer playin’ up, and yer kid is gonna start takin’ yer lashin’s fer ya, and he’ll learn this is all his daddy’s fault. And ah can tell ya there’s some men here who’d love to beat the ever lovin’ stuffin’ outta them freaky magic creatures like him. Ah would hate to see anythin’ happen to that freak son of yers, wouldn’t you?”

The husky voice was just inches away from his ear spoke low and tersely, making him grimace. Clearly since he didn’t get the satisfactory reaction, the lieutenant tried something different by gripping his chin and forcing him to lock eyes. The man stood just high enough to force him to look UP, a clear sign of intimidation. Despite his best efforts he couldn’t fight back the urge to curl his lip and show his teeth. After a few minutes of biting back all hiss venomous retorts, he slumped and nodded only once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into his eyes. All he could feel was the fear and shame of his own weakness, and his inability to protect Galvin… when did he grow so weak…

The lieutenant grinned with a stiff laugh and jerked his head away, a lot rougher than necessary. Severin grimaced as his already aching neck and head got another helping of whip lash, doing all he could to stop himself from letting loose and guaranteeing Galvin’s untimely death. All he could do was bow his head, finally giving in to the pain. They were right. He had gone soft. He’d grown weak. The lieutenant beamed and patted his head like a dog, before standing up and stretching like he just woke up from a long much needed nap.

“Good. Yer gonna stay here fer a few days ta simmer down. Until then, ah have a huge mess ta fix and yer not gonna git in the way any more, got it…?” The lieutenant practically purred, knowing he’s one and let out all his frustrations out on the healer.

Severin only nodded, before giving a very hoarse “Jawohl.” With that, the lieutenant dusted himself off and left the widely sparse tent, to inform the Commander of the news he dragged out of him. If he was going to tell the commander everything, he probably wouldn’t be honest about he didn’t start the fire, and saw the opportunity and took it to smuggle his sohn out…

No of course not. They wanted to use them as a scape goat, to have no reason for political issues later on in the courts. Not that any of the ministers or high council men would believe him anyhow… They were at the mercy of their captors, and their days are getting shorter and shorter. Soon, once his usefulness has ended and the war was won or lost, they’d both be killed.

The thought made him grit his teeth in anger, how he was so careful about keeping Galvin safe!! And how badly he failed by one single misstep. There wasn’t any choice now. He was going to have to play his trump card, no matter how how many rules and promises it broke. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and all was fair in love and war, right…?

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and slowly slipped a knife out of his sleeve, but instead of cutting the ropes, he swiftly slit the blade across his hand, where he had a strange tattoo like insignia imprinted on his hand. Blood oozed and flowed down his hand freely, but it seemed drawn and magnetized to the strange marking. Good, it meant it was still in effect. Now, all he could do was wait. Hopefully, he would come soon. Time wasn’t on their side. All he could do now was wait, and hope.

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