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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months

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୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (ƚɯσ) ୨୧

୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!yunho x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!choi san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/angst/smut/a lil bit of fluff emerging

୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.

But your actions have consequences and, when the one who brought you into this turns out to be more devious than you expected, are you prepared to face them?

୨୧ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: you're the villain, yunho's the villain, you truly all are in your own ways for this series, sugar baby origins, heavy angst, backstabbing, a fight breaks out, punching (not you), blood, drinking, yunho's a player, manipulation, strong language, mutual masturbation (f & m), fingering, creampie (in a sense), slight vaginal penetration (for teasing purposes), gagging (panties in mouth), cum eating, jealousy, soft dom reader vibes, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babe, good boy), oral sex (f receiving).

୨୧ A/N: This is part two in a series. You can find part one here. This entry focuses more on your relationship with Yunho, the dynamics within the boys' friend group, and why you're here at all. The next entry will be San focused with the focus shifting to Hongjoong last because every game needs a boss battle, ya know?

Watching Jeong Yunho tongue down a girl at the bar, you can’t help but wonder, “Can she taste me on his lips?” Or is she too drunk to tell that his breath still smells like pussy? It’s not that you’re territorial when it comes to him. That couldn’t be further from the truth. But his little attempt at trying to make it happen? It’s cute.

He can kiss her all he wants. Whisper in her ear how pretty she is. Tell her how he’s had a crush on her since he saw her walking across campus the other day. She’ll fall for those puppy dog eyes the way they all do. Fast forward 48 hours and she’ll be blowing up his phone wondering why he hasn’t called her back.

Only he won’t answer because he’ll be at your place again, same as he was tonight, his mouth too stuffed with your panties to get out more than a few broken syllables. Yunho’s never prettier than when he’s on his knees between your legs, stroking himself inches from your exposed core. “You wanna fuck me, Yunie? Hmm?” you tease, spreading yourself open for him.

It’s pure gold to watch the panic on his face when he can’t figure out where to look. Your angelic face? Your supple tits? Your clit coated in his precum? That’s when you know he’s close and start to play with yourself just to get inside his head. “Please let me feel you” is what he’d beg if he could speak. He’s done it before when his mouth wasn’t as full. But tonight he can only “Hhnhh, hmm, hmph” as he presses his tip to your slit, each whip of his wrist growing pathetically sloppier.

“Go ahead, Yunie baby. Be a good boy and cum on me.” Eternally the tease, you sink down onto him blessing the head of his cock with the fainest stretching of your slit. It works like magic and he’s shivering, decorating your pussy in a thick glaze of cum. His eyes never leave you, refusing to miss a minute of you fucking his cum into your core with your fingers until you’re unraveling beneath him.

“We can’t have sex.” That was the rule he made when he pulled you into this twisted plot against his so-called friends. It turns out he’d find it much harder to stick to than you would. Oh, the fun you’ve had torturing him since. He thought himself immune to the very charms he sought to exploit for his own gain. Now he’s spending two nights a week masturbating with you in your bed and cleaning you up with his tongue. Always his tongue.

So, the question remains, “Can she taste me on his lips? Can she taste us on his lips? Or are they always too drunk to notice?”

“Another drink, gorgeous?” San asks, rising to go grab himself another. Looking up at him from your chair, you’re immediately taken by the handsome dimpled smile on his face. Jeong Yunho, who? Is that a singer or something? “I’d love another drink. Thank you. Just let me grab my wallet.” Hongjoong jumps into action, reaching across the table before you can lift a finger. He takes your hand with such grace that you feel like some kind of princess.

“Don’t insult us, pretty girl. You don’t pay.”

“You guys that’s really sweet but I can’t—”

San squats down to eye level, sweeping your empty glass into his hand. “You heard the man. You don’t pay, pretty girl. You get me?” He winks at you, playfully pinching your chin. “I get you, Sannie. Thank you” you sigh, twirling your hair around your finger. As San makes his way over to the bar, your attention shifts seamlessly to Hongjoong. “Thank you too, Joongie, for everything. You’ve been so good to me since I got here.” Hongjoong grins, biting his bottom lip. You poke your tits out when you say good, your voice taking on a sultry tone.

“You’ve been so ‘fuck me with your tongue til I’m gushing’ good to me, Kim Hongjoong.”

He swallows hard, fighting to keep his composure in the crowded bar, “Don’t mention it. Any friend of Yunho’s is a friend of mine. Gotta take care of you, right?” “What about Yunho?” Yunho questions, abruptly shattering the sexual tension brewing between you and Hongjoong. Yunho picks up his beer, drinking down what’s left as he pulls up a chair. “I was just saying,” Hongjoong continues, “That she’s your friend and the three of us have to, you know, take care of her.”

Yunho gives you a cutting glance, knowing very well what that consists of. You shoot one right back at him that says this isn’t a game he wants to play. Quickly changing the subject, Yunho scans the bar, “There are usually three of you. Where’s Seonghwa? I thought you guys traveled in packs or something.” Hongjoong laughs off the comment, having grown accustomed to the slight digs that Yunho makes towards them.

Before Seonghwa there was Hongjoong, San, and Yunho. They were the ultimate trio, spending all of their time together and raising all sorts of hell. Enter Park Seonghwa, the hyper organized, ultra proper son of some famous attorney. Hongjoong spoke two words to him and that was it. He graduated to main cast member, relegating Yunho to the tortuous role of side character but not for much longer.

“Seonghwa’s actually—”

“What did you do?” Seonghwa shouts, charging into the bar and heading straight in San’s direction. Whatever he’s upset about, it’s enough to blind him with enough rage that his fist’s cracking into San’s face before the other boys can intervene. San stumbles backward, a hand over his face to check for blood. Hongjoong runs to block Seonghwa before a full on fight breaks out. He pats him on the shoulders, doing what he can to calm him down while Yunho checks on San.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Someone came into my apartment and they—my project—my laptop—everything’s deleted and I can’t get that back. I can’t—” Seonghwa tries to catch his breath but explaining himself only makes him angrier, the tightness in his chest growing unbearable.

“Hwa, he wouldn’t do that. You know San.”

“Do I? You two are the only ones with keys to my apartment. I know you wouldn’t but him?”

Yunho gathers a bunch of tissues in his hand, holding them under the crimson river cascading down San’s face. “You think I broke into your house to delete your work?” San laughs, unphased by the hit, “You really are fucking full of yourself. Why should I give a shit what you’re doing?”

“Because you’re jealous of me. You’ve always been jealous of me!”

“Jealous? Of you? You’re joking.”

Pulling another handful of tissue from a napkin holder, Yunho tries to play peacemaker, “Can you guys not do this? We’re all friends.” “Friends?” San scoffs, “You don’t even like him!” Hongjoong approaches San, his patience running thin, “You’re talking too much now.” San sprinkles the floor with bloody napkins, his face stained red. “I’m not your lap dog, Joong. You can tell them what to do but not me.”

This entire time you haven’t moved. You can’t. Yunho had mentioned, when your panties finally vacated the space between his cheeks, that you might want to focus your affections on San tonight. Something was happening. He refused to tell you what though and now you know why. You would’ve never let him do something like this.

You were only supposed to hook up with them, maybe make them a bit jealous of each other. Jealous enough to give Yunho the chance to snake his way back into Hongjoong’s good graces. But this? Tomorrow marks two weeks on the dot since you’ve started working the front desk at one of Seonghwa’s fathers’ offices. Since then you’ve found yourself spending a lot of time with him, learning more about him than what’s in his pants.

Seonghwa's someone who takes pride in his work, the medical research he wants to pursue is important to him. This recent project was something special, monumental even. He promised he’d show you all of it when he finished and you actually found yourself excited for the day it’d happen simply because he was too. How could Yunho do something so cruel? How could he take it all away?

“Could you give me a ride home?” San asks, snatching his jacket from the back of the chair, “You can drive my car, I just—I can’t focus on the road right now.” “I—uh—sure, of course” you stutter, tossing on your coat and collecting your things. San gives you the keys to his Lamborghini, holding your hand as he guides you towards the door.

Passing Seonghwa you try to look at him, silently check to see if he’s okay, but it doesn’t even seem like he knows you’re there. The crisp night air hits you, easing the rising nausea as the reality of what you’ve done—what you’re doing—sets in. “Hey, babe, you okay?” San asks, his arm around your waist. Even with a bloody face, he’s still irresistibly cute.

You cup his cheek, examining the cut on his nose, “Why don’t we get you home so I can fix you up?” “Fix me up? You my nurse now? Gonna make me all better?” Make him all better? That’s laughable. You exist in his life—at this school—for the sole purpose of making things worse and, even with your heart breaking, you aren’t sure there’s any way to stop it.

So you lie, “Of course. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho smut #seonghwa x you #choi san x you #ateez angst #ateez smut #hongjoong x you #ateez au #seonghwa x reader #choi san x reader #hongjoong x reader #chubby reader #yunho angst #plus size reader

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frenchfrywrites · 1 year

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The first thing Leviathan hears each morning is “I love you.”

You say it quietly (just for him!) as though it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Levi thinks that you might even say it when he’s sleeping. He hears you saying it in his dreams, he knows that much. He also knows that he’s grown scarily attached to waking up to it each morning.

(what he means is that he’s scarily attached to you, but he won’t admit that just yet)

He's hesitant to admit how badly he needs to hear your soft voice easing through the syllables as he blinks away the sleep in his eyes and brings a hand up to wipe away the drool on his chin.

Some mornings, the good ones, Levi wakes up and feels warmth spread across his clammy, pale skin as the simple words leave your lips. His heart jumps in his chest, giving him the fainest idea of how many seconds have passed. There are times when he’s with you that he has these anxieties that tell him he’ll run out of time, but these mornings are different. On the good days he feels like he’s stuck forever in a moment just with you. He’ll accept your kisses, cuddle and snuggle into your body, and truly feel the endless love you claim to have for him.

And though they now rarely happen, there’s the other mornings, the not-so-good ones. Levi might groan or turn away from you, shoving his head into the pillow to avoid having to face you. He feels sick when he hears it, struck suddenly by all the nasty thoughts he has about himself that hit him all at once and make him think he’s undeserving of your love or that you’re lying to him. You always know what to do when he’s like this. You’ll carefully take him into your arms, letting him hide his face in your chest, and run your hands through his hair.

Sometimes you take the time to tell him each and every one of the things you love about him (the list, Levi finds, is never ending), other times you distract him by talking about all his favorite things (until he inevitably, always pulls himself out of his hiding spot to join in), and sometimes you don’t say anything at all and instead kiss and hold him until he can breathe easy again. Whatever you do, it’s always the thing he didn’t know he needed most, and he is eternally grateful.

Each morning he rises to “I love you.” Each morning he wakes up with you next to him. He’s slowly let go of the fear that one morning he will wake up and you’ll be gone. You love him, you tell him, and he knows it.

Of course Levi tells you he loves you too (all the time now that he's more brave about it), but he secretly hopes that one day you’ll sleep in; maybe you’ll get sick, or your alarm won’t go off for whatever reason (or maybe you have your bad mornings too). Levi awaits the morning it’ll happen so he can say “I love you,” and you’ll know just how lucky he feels each morning.

#ahhh this is for a friends bday #im a lil nervous bc its so unlike all the other things i post #but i hope u all like it #i just think levi deserves some loooveee #brainrot #fluff?#obey me

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king-k9 · 10 days

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i am only getting but the fainest whispers of this Drake & Kendrick beef or whatever is happening through a small amount of tumblr posts and the Garbage Day newsletter. don't know what tf is going on and I may sound holier-than-thou for this but can i just say. i am so glad i dont have tiktok/twitter/whatever cause like. why are we caring about this.

#and why should i care about it lol #i don't even listen to drake #or kendrick idk i'm very detached from cultre zeitgeist #go pay attention to your local elections people #k9.exe

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strabius-berry · 25 days

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I hate shadowbans

I see my theoretical post has received 20 notes and i would like to see the theoretical blogs those notes came from

But i only see 16 because 4 are just straight up unlisted

They are echos from the void

This hellsite wants me to believe they dont exist yet i can hear the fainest of sceams

Let them free

Iwant to see them

And if it turns out they suck i want the choice to block or report them myself

#it's me by the way my side blog is shadowbanned and i am a ghost haunting my favorite blogs from the other side #this hellsite took away my mouth and i must scream #i say stuff #salty on main

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nerendus · 10 months

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Does anyone know what the item that says Second Gen Albinaurics can't speak is? Because I have the fainest memory of that being the case, and one of the wiki's says that (only one however) but it doesn't give a source, and all of the items I looked through doesn't reference that at all. Am I and some wiki writer both having delusions, or is it actually canon that they can't speak? I'm losing my mind over here.

#texts from the underbrush #elden ring

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parchmentleaves · 4 months

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Lady Essiala Ariathia ban Vor'cle

No game this week, so a brief entry about Lady Essiala instead. Who is the lady behind this journal? Linked above or copy-pasted below.

Lady Essiala Ariathia Sorjiik den Morgenstern ban Vor’cle is the Navigator Primaris of the void-ship Gloriosa Lux Misericordiae Imperialis, a role she has held for just over a standard decade. She is a bookish and reserved woman who prefers the solitude of her library to the hubbub of human interactions, and uses her noble bearing as a mask to conceal her terrors and inner loneliness.

Child of Vor’cle

Essiala is a scion of House Vor’cle, an ancient and vaunted House of the Navis Nobilite that eschews sector and planetary politics in favour of broad-ranging interests and connections throughout the Imperium of Man, including at the very heights of power. Vor’cle Navigators guide ships of nobility, adepta of the mighty Adeptus Terra, Rogue Traders, and even the dreaded Inquisition. The House maintains its own fleet of void-clippers – fast courier voidcraft that crisscross Sectors, Segmenta and even the Imperium itself bearing information too dense, complex or secure to risk astropathic communication, as well as individuals wishing swift and unobtrusive transport across the stars.

She was born on one of these void-clippers, the lean and ancient Morgenstern, and is a child of an esteemed and stable gene-lineage that has been free of genomic instability for over a millenium. Children of the Sorjiik lineage tend to a greater height, leanness of build and paleness of skin than even most void-born, with many also possessing entirely black eyes well-suited to finding even the fainest of lights in the darkness of the void. Essiala shows all these traits and, like many children of her line, prefers her quarters set to lower local gravity and dimmer lumination than ship standard.

House Vor’cle is less hidebound than many great magisterial Houses of the Navis Nobilite who might rely on their breeding and connections to secure contracts of navigation. The Vor’cle instead educate their scions and inculcate a deep curiosity about the universe into them. They in turn record everything that they encounter on their long-ranging travels across and beyond the Imperium and send their reports back to the House archives, where they may be used to further the obectives of the House and its allies. This cavalier disregard for the virtue of ignorance has led to multiple long term feuds between the House and factions of the Ecclesiarchy.

Dark Apprenticeship

Decades of scholarship and apprenticeship taught Essiala well the lessons of her House. She served as a Navigatrix Tertius and learned the practicalities of navigation aboard multiple ships with distinction and no issue save for a short-lived daliance with a bright-eyed void-mistress that ended when Essiala ascended to the rank of Navigatrix Secundus and was assigned to the void-ship Revenance.

Her years aboard the Revenance took her into the Halo Stars beyond the frontiers of the Imperium. She saw strange aetheric phenomena and curious alien ruins, decimated remnants of fallen civilisations far older than that of Man, and steered the ship through terrible warp storms to find safe refuge in the light of the Astronomicon once more. An incident occured on one voyage where she had the honour of steering the ship while the Navigator Primaris was recovering from injuries following a skirmish with Orkish pirates. The ship’s Gellar field, likely suffering some minor damage in the prior engagement, fluctuated during a turbulent ana-surge within the Immaterium and something attempted to coalesce through the cracks into the Navis spire.

A shapeless darkness with a voice of ash and burning violet eyes appeared on before Essiala and begged for her to open disable the safeties on the Aciens Horrens, the heavily warded portal through which the Navigator views the Immaterium, and allow it inside. It offered power, knowledge, all the sweet temptations fit to lure her into obeying its pleas. She refused and, in a moment of righteous anger, tried to turn the power of her Third Eye on the blasphemous thing. The entity simply laughed in amusement and departed, leaving her with words.

“Such fire you have. And such fires you will see Beyond. Three and three and all will burn as bright as you. May they consume you by delightful degrees.”

Essiala found herself marked and shaken by this dreadful encounter. All food tastes of ash in her mouth and her dreams echo with the three-eyed entities mocking laughter. In response she threw herself into studying all she could find about such blasphemous foes, so that she might face and destroy the entity if she encountered it once more. And to this day she takes great care to maintain a personal shrine to the Emperor in her quarters, praying to Him on Earth and all His Saints each morning after a night of fitful, restless sleep.

Navigator of the Gloriosa Lux

The incident on the Revenance earned Essiala her elevation to the rank of full Navigatrix, after sufficient psychoexamination and deep testing to ensure that the entity had left no taint upon her soul. She was assigned to fulfil House Vor’cle’s contract of navigation with the Void-ghast Dynasty, an ancient rogue trader family now fallen from the heights of their past glories, and she assumed the duties of Navigator Primaris aboard the Void-ghast’s only true void-ship, the Sword-class frigate Gloriosa Lux Misericordiae Imperialis.

Lady Essiala worked well with the Gloriosa Lux and her Lord-Captain Eleazar Void-ghast, steering the vessel on nearly a dozen expeditions into into the wild space of the Koronus Expanse and bringing her home safely each time. Each voyage brought new wonders and new terrors, and always the subtlest hints of some meaning behind the words and the sinister laughter haunting her nightmares.

Lord Eleazar’s sudden and unexpected death upended everything. Gloriosa Lux was forced to return to anchorage, spending nearly a year in limbo waiting for the heir to the Dynasty, the Writ of Trade, and the Lord-Captaincy to be found. Essiala spent the time reading, writing notes for future memoirs, and attempting to make sense of her dreams. She could feel a pattern forming, though it was still too diffuse and subtle to fully grasp.

Finally, after interminable politics and delays of transit, Lazarus Void-ghast was declared Lord of the Dynasty and the Gloriosa Lux Misericordiae Imperialis has set sail once more into the Koronus Expanse…

#rogue trader #rogue trader ttrpg #ttrpg character #navigator #warhammer 40k

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lorillee · 1 year

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oda's inherent need to draw more boobs plunging us into the deepest depths of yamato discourse once again. and he tried to balance it out by having yamato be the only one there wearing pants which is in a way hilarious

im pretty sure hakama can be worn by women (see: shrine maidens) so i dont think theyre necessarily indicative of oda's stance on the matter one way or another. anyways yeah no truly at this point i havent the fainest clue how oda wants the audience to read yamato's gender because every time it gets brought up in any capacity i just get more confused . maybe thats the point. are we all just being played by oda's bit or what

#ask #anon #op spoilers #''oden was a man right? so i become a man too!" + THE MEN'S BATHHOUSE SCENE LITERALLY JUXTAPOSED WITH KIKU #VS WHATEVER THIS IS + VIVRE CARDS + INTRO BOX . 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I DONT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ANYMORE #anyways im avoiding the reddit like the plague because The Bathhouse Chapter #gave me my fill of yamato gender discourse for a thousand years #and then some #but. well . thats neither here nor there #colorspread is cute though i actually audibly gasped when i saw carrot i was so excited . love you carrot always and forever #also somebody else pointed it out and like its so true oda loves nami so much #girlie is literally Front and Center always and she deserves it #oda is nami fan number one

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lilbittymonster · 2 years

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bandaging each other up and sharing a tender moment, grabbing your lover's face and not being able to let go <3

"That was quite a nasty tumble you took, friend," Haurchefant said as they both walked back into the hall. "You might want to see one of the chirurgeons."

Kitali waved off the suggestion. "I'm fine, I've suffered worse."

"I'm afraid I must insist. 'Twould not do for you to come to harm whilst under my protection."

"I said it's fine, Haurche," she repeated as she disentangled her hair from the spikes on her back. "I'll be healed up by the end of the week, no doubt."

He sighed. "If you will not see to the healers then may I, at least, inspect your wounds?"

Kitali looked at him intently, head slightly tilted. "Will you let it go if I do?"

He crossed an arm over his chest. "On my honor," he promised.

She paused for another moment, then held out her arm for his inspection. With gentle fingers, he pried the gauntlet from her arm and set it down on the table by the fire. Now that her arm was bare, he could see rivulets of drying blood running from several small cuts in her arm just above the elbow, the sticky liquid matted in the outline of the armor and running into her scales.

"This needs washing, come, let us find somewhere more suitable."

Haurchefant gently took her by the hand and led them across the plaza to one of the smaller kitchens, sitting her down and filling a bowl with water and grabbing a cloth. Kitali dutifully lifted her arm once more as he approached, the fainest hint of an exasperated smile on her face as he worked.

As gently as he could, Haurchefant wiped the blood away from her skin, careful around the edges of the cuts themselves as he worked. Wringing out the soiled cloth and dampening it once more he continued over the scales on her forearm, tracing along the edge of the patterns.

"You can touch them, if you want," Kitali remarked mildly. "I can tell you're curious."

Haurchefant paused in his ministrations. "I must admit, I have been curious, though I did not want to overstep my bounds in such an egregious fashion," he replied slowly.

"I'm offering, it's okay."

He nodded, and continued on cleaning the blood from her arm, noticeably less hesitant over the deep blue scales now. Once clean, he discarded the cloth onto the table and traced the slightly damp latticework of scale crawling along her arm from the back of her hand to her elbow. Unlike the flat planes of dragon scales he was used to seeing, there were whorls and branches and valleys to Kitali's, unique as a man's handprint.

"May I ask you something?" he said into the silence, moving to instead simply clasp her hand between his.

Kitali raised a brow. "Sure."

"Why is it that you fight so...intensely for the Ishgardian cause? You have no obligations to, as you are not of Ishgard and have sworn no allegiances to her protection. At least," he looked meaningfully at the suit of drachen mail, "none that I am as yet aware of."

"I owe you a great debt," she said simply. "If it weren't for your aid, I'd still be out in the cold along with Alphinaud and Tataru with the entire Alliance on our heels."

Haurchefant's heart skipped a beat. He took her face gently in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You owe me no such debts, Kitali Moonblade, do you hear me?" he said fiercely. "You are my friend, and to me that is enough. I wish only to see you hale and happy."

Kitali's eyes began to well with tears, but she blinked them away. "You're a good man, Haurche," she said softly. "You are worth fighting for. And for me, that's enough."

Send me a prompt!

#replies #smadvil #my writing #wolchefant #kitali #kitali moonblade #haurchefant #haurchefant greystone #this kinda got away from me but it's also the first thing i've written for them

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the-tf2-gremlin · 9 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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theoldbone · 2 years

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Newest foster baby has the fainest of stripes on his upper legs and face. Can only see them in the right light

#foster #kitten #stripes

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gxdful · 2 years

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Random Headcanon time? Random Headcanon time.

So I really really like the idea that God doesn’t see things the same way mortals, demons, angels or anyone does, her eyes have seen everything made. Start of the creation and cosmos themselves, she simply sees everything for what it is. Thus when God looks at your she isn’t seeing your physical appearance as much as she’s seeing who the person really is inside

Think, that if a trans woman was trans even if she hadn’t started transitioning yet or even came out to anyone God would instantly see her as a woman, regardless of outside features, like if someone introduced her as a man or if she didn’t look super feminine. It doesn’t matter. God sees you as you. And this doesn’t just apply to trans identities, there are a lot of times with what we are inside just doesn’t match the outside.

I also like the idea that there’s this ethereal feeling when you look in her eyes, the fainest glimpse of the power she really holds, but further more gods eyes are reflexive but not in a normal way. If you looked at her eyes and focused on the images being reflected it wouldn’t look like anything she was looking at, further more if you saw your reflection in her eyes it wouldn’t look how you normally look.

#ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤; 𝔾𝕠𝕕 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝔸𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕤𝕥 #𝕆𝕆ℂ; 𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕤

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starrysavvy · 4 months

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The morning was silent, the room dark, and Dante was slowly waking up. He sighed and cracked open his eyes, staring up at his cracked ceiling as his mind slowly came back to him. The first thought of the day was, ‘How long will I stay in bed today?’ He asked himself that question seemingly every morning. Well, except for the days that he found himself woken up by the persistent little bites from his rats, forcing him awake to feed them. He considered those days the lesser of two evils, since when they did that, it distracted him from thinking. It allowed him to get through the morning without too much hassle, since he was focused on his precious little friends.

But that didn’t happen today, no he had slowly woken up, and he laid there, waiting for the familiar sense of dread to wash over him. The crushing weight to settle into his chest and sit there like a rock for the rest of the day, weighing him down, reminding him of everything he lost…

The weight didn’t come.

He blinked in confusion and sat up, his chest feeling light and he could breathe easily. What is this? Sitting up, he looked around his room, eyes roaming around. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing was different. Hell, even his bucket was there, not catching water dripping from the ceiling like it’s original purpose, but now just filled with random odds and ends.

Getting out of bed, he saw his rats had decided to sleep all nestled up near his pillow. It was sweet of course, nothing new, but the soothing feeling of fondness for them felt greater this morning. Like it filled him up entirely instead of being crowded out by the familiar gnawing void. It was so strange and yet, it brought upon a sense of nostalgia. He had felt this way before, a long time ago, before everything had happened to him.

It brought a stinging sensation to his eyes as tears filled them. It had been so long since he had felt like this. Felt free. He wasn’t sure of what to do now, really, he was afraid that if he moved from this spot, it would all come crashing down, but… He had to leave. The nagging thought of missing out on experiencing the day while like this.

So he slowly got dressed, still hesitant, but he forced his stiff body to go through the motions. And when he saw his ankles while going to put on his socks… He didn’t tense, his stomach didn’t turn at the sight of the scars that circled around them. Sure, the memories were there, swirling around his head, but the usual response didn’t trigger. He still felt fine and secure.

The realization made him sit there, stock still as he took it in, his eyes never leaving his ankle. Even as his fingers traced the scarring, the tears finally falling from his eyes, the complicated mess of emotions never surfaced. Not once. His rats had come over and climbed on him, checking on him as he silently wept with a soft, delicate smile spreading across his face.

He finally finished getting dressed and ready for the day, feeding his rats and making something simple for himself. And even in that little, mundane meal he found himself happy. Like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Looking at the small, worn picture of a rainy sky taped to his wall didn’t even make him upset, just thinking of the sound of the rain and the smell it brought in made him almost hoping that it did shower today.

Leaving his room, Dante didn’t feel the same old apprehension, hell, he was excited to see what would happen. Bring on the clowns! He’ll talk to them all, maybe even start a conversation for once, who knows what could happen? So he found himself taking strides down the familiar pathways, eyes flickering around the area at those around him.

They were familiar folk, other Melodies mostly, with a few from other tents sprinkled in. There was Maverick chatting with Barbie, who was rambling animatedly to the other clown. Cherie looks like she’s about to faint at the sight of the fainest amount of blood Dante had ever seen on someone. And there was John, gazing off into the distance, set aside from everyone. While he had been ready to go out and talk to his tent-mates, seeing his friend sitting by himself drew him closer.

He walked up, standing next to the dazed man, and quietly greeted him, “Hello, John, uhm, how is your day going so far? Good, I hope?” A part of Dante was curious, was the same lightness that was happening to him affecting John as well? Was there a kind of magic in the air that brought upon such a change? He hoped so.

His voice snapped John out of it and he quickly looked at him with his wide eyes, still somewhat distant as they focused on him, “Oh! Dante, yes, yes, I’m doing well.” As he came back to himself, shrugging off whatever thoughts that had him so tightly wrapped up in them, he looked over Dante, like there was something he was trying to pinpoint. “Y-You look… chipper today. Must have had a good morning, then?”

“Yes, actually, it’s been really good,” He smiled at him with more light in his eyes than John has ever seen before. It made him squint at him slightly.

“You… You didn’t take Andy up on her offer to get you ‘medicine’ did you?”

Dante’s eyebrows shot up as he let out a surprised laugh, “Wh-what? No! It’s just today has been wonderful so far and it's barely into the afternoon! It’s like something shifted, you haven’t, you know, felt anything change?”

John didn’t look too convinced, but shrugged, the movement causing several bells to jingle, “No, it’s just the same old day. But I’m glad that you’re having a good day!”

Knowing how John can get, he gave him an almost understanding smile, “Yeah, I hope the day brightens for you as well. I’ll see you later, John.”

After leaving John to his own thoughts, Dante walked around the Melody tent, waving and smiling at those he passed. Sure, not too different from what he would normally do, but now he looked them in the eye with an eagerness that seemed to infect them as well. They passed him by, grins wider than they had been and seeing that made Dante feel even better than before.

The feeling lasted, but he did pause in his walk once he saw familiar faces. Andy and… Joro. The sight of them being lovey and sweet with each other usually leaves him with a sour feeling in his stomach and then awash in guilt afterwards for feeling that way. Joro is his ex, he’s moved on with Andy who has decided, for some unknown reason, to hang around and befriend him. It’s complicated and brought up feelings he didn’t want to think about but right now, he didn’t feel them.

It was odd, but not unwelcome; he didn’t think this strange happening would affect all of his negative feelings like this so he was unsure of what to do next. So he just simply stood there, watching as they went about their own walk a fair distance away. Andy happened to glance his way and her toothy grin widened as she waved at him. And he found himself waving back, a pleasant feeling entering his chest as he watched them continue on their way. It was nice.

As the hours passed by in what seemed like no time at all, Dante felt not one ounce of the usual negative emotions, the day went by smoothly with none of the everyday shenanigans causing a disturbance for him. He just gladly watched from the sidelines, even when a couple clowns got into a fight that ended up dragging more people into the fray. After a while, everyone started laughing and stopped fighting and it surprised him. Whenever fights would break out, he would leave before they got too rough, so he never saw the aftermath.

Does this kind of thing happen all the time? Is this the end result of so many fights? He always leaves when a situation sours in some way, the uncomfortable awkwardness would always nag at him until he just slinked away, like his precious little rats would do so often. What else had he missed? Would the things he ran away from end in similar ways? Maybe they did, maybe every rough start to a first meeting, a lull in a conversation, or even…

A prick of unpleasantness made him wince. That’s all it was though, just a little prick somewhere inside his mind, nothing like the overwhelming sensation of dread that would rush through him whenever he thought about how his marriages ended. How he would run and hide from the pain and loneliness he felt.

Ah. That’s what he did, wasn’t it? Ran. Ran from everything and everyone whenever the faintest hint of potential pain would rear its ugly head at him. He would isolate himself and do his damndest to bury those feelings deep inside until all that was let was a dull ache in his chest. And the cycle would start over.

That thought made him almost numb and he wandered among the groups of his tent-mates, his ‘family’, in a daze until night fell. The dark was familiar to him, the dim lighting from several sources of lanterns and colorful fairy lights lit his path as they gradually decreased in number until he was met with a small clearing. It was a popular spot for stargazing, the sky was a wide expanse above him and he sat on the ground a bit with a sigh, laying back to stare with a wide-eyed, uncertain expression.

Dante would usually feel a bit small in comparison to the sky, not only in the literal sense of the word, but also in the figurative sense. Like he was drifting along the cosmos perpetually alone despite being surrounded by others. He couldn't feel their warmth or even understand why they insisted on being around him when he felt so dull next to them.

But, yet again, there was something different tonight. As he stared up at the stars he didn't get the sense of being lost and alone. He just took in the stars. Saw their beauty and the true color of the night sky for what felt like the first time. It wasn’t just a cold and darkened looming presence, but a blanket of vivid hues dotted with twinkling stars. The sight brought to life the warmth he had been getting hints of throughout the day and just like this morning, he felt tears start to sting at his eyes, causing the stars to blur.

He stayed like that for what seemed like hours, just gazing up at the sky until his eyes slipped closed, having been lulled into a sense of calm and serenity he didn't think he had ever felt before. Or at least not a time he remembered. He drifted off into a peaceful sleep in the grass, not caring about if it rained, he just wanted to be in this calm state for as long as he could.

Then his eyes opened, and he found himself staring at his ceiling.

As he laid there, under his blanket and coming to his senses, a growing gnawing feeling dug into his chest. Oh. Oh. It was a dream, wasn’t it? He took a shaky breath and a hand went to his mouth. It was all just a horridly wonderful dream. A dream that tormented him with its sweetness now that he’s awake. The tears were quick to form and he shuddered with a quiet cry, not noticing when his rats started crawling over him, squeaking as they demanded to be fed.

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A written commission I did for @skipperbunnyrabbit ! Featuring their OC Dante (and a few others, @doodle-who , including mine~)

#commission #written commison #story commission #demon clowns #my writing #my art

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