#Personalized Dog Collars & Lashes

[artcbyviet]

Personalized dog lashes

Personalized dog collars and lashes offer a delightful way to express love and care for our furry companions. These accessories can be customized with the pet's name, contact information, or unique designs, reflecting their individuality. Personalized dog collars provide an added layer of safety, allowing for easy identification if the pet ever gets lost. On the other hand, personalized lashes add a touch of charm and playfulness to a dog's appearance, turning them into stylish and pampered pets. Both collars and lashes are a perfect way to celebrate the special bond between pet owners and their beloved four-legged friends.

[rueclfer]

saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part three

a/n: bakugou probs gives the bare fucking minimum as a frat boy like barely participates in the campaigns and rushes/recruitments and the only reason why he hasn't gotten booted yet is bc he's frat president kirishima's scary dog best friend and helps him make decisions lmao *written under cut*

denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks

"Embarrassing how much effort I put in for a man who doesn't even want me." You dramatically sigh as you gently tilt Katsuki's head back by his chin, and holding the opening of a chilled bottle of water up to his lips.

Walking out to see him alone under the dim buzzing light barely hanging onto to the roof and hunched over a bush with his palm pressed against the side of the frat house to hold himself up was a sad sight for you to see, but you couldn't help but enjoy the rare humiliation.

He scowls and swats your hand away, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand.

"The fuck are you talking about?" He coughs into the collar of his shirt.

"What? Am I wrong?" You press your lips together, suppressing a growing smile, and setting the empty bottle on the window ledge beside you

He rubs his temple in annoyance, clearly not near sober enough to have a conversation about his feelings. "Irritating as fuck is what you are."

With the noise of the party and thumping music leaking from inside of the house, you two were left alone by yourselves in the side yard with the occasional person or two stepping out for a smoke or to vomit.

"I'm just teasing, Kats." You chuckle, reaching up to rake your fingers through the sweaty strands of hair glued to his forehead. "It's not that serious."

"I told you not to come out here, didn't I?" He mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the wall.

"Well, Denki's occupied with the other brothers and I'm not going to leave you out here yacking in the bushes."

He remains silent for a moment, lazily intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your hands from side to side.

"Dumbass." He murmurs under his breath. "Too nice for your own good."

"Trust me, I know." You roll your eyes. "Let's get you to your room? You look like you might drop any second." You attempt to wiggle your hand out of his iron grasp.

"It's too god damn loud in there." He groans "Stay here with me."

His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made his usual scowl falter into a perpetual pout, making your nerves twitch and it impossible to say no to him.

"You're not scared of anyone seeing us like this? Being so close? Me taking care of you?" You peer around for any sign of watching eyes.

"Like it matters. Everyone knows you're mine- or they should at least." He tightens his grip on your hand.

"Yeah? Prove it, then" You challenge, sparking a quirk of interest in his eyes.

A lazy smirk grows on his lips as he looks down at you through his lashes, scanning every corner of your face before he pulls you in against his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

"You wanna give everyone inside a show or some shit?" He mutters against your lips, peppering kisses in between every few words. "Give me 10 minutes with you out here and I can sober up real fuckin quick."

"That, or also," You wrap an arm around his torso, and the other slapping a hand over his mouth, pushing his face away. "you can ask me out on a date, dipshit."

He narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brows in the process.

"Nu uh. No fucking way. You don't want to go out with me."

"Yuh huh." You mock his drunken childish tone, keeping your hand clasped over his mouth. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I think I love you." He muffles behind your hand. "So that'll be a fucking wreck for both of us."

"Wha-"

He pulls your hand away from his mouth and cuts you off with his lips with more desperation and force as he pulls you closer to him by the back of your neck and grip around your waist.

An efficient way to shut you up.

"Don't remind me about that tomorrow, alright?" He mutters against your lips, knowing well that if there's one thing his mind will cling onto in this drunken state, it'll be this moment with you in the side yard where your cheeks are perfectly flushed from the alcohol and cold nice breeze, your hands all over him, and his heart racing as he admit to you and himself for the first time that he loves you.

[moronkombat]

Mk 1 men reacting to someone insulting their s/o right in front of them? Aka how to commit suicide in 12+ different ways

Reiko would not tolerate any slander to his partner and would instantly get up in the face of the person who dare insult you

He doesn't do the pleasures himself. Instead he advises you to beat them into submission while he watches with a coy smirk

Is very offended and doesn't sit idle when he hears it. He'll move past you tell them to try repeating that again

He's threatening but only in body posture and and facial expressions. If they were to throw a punch his way, he'd catch it and headbutt them

He's upset at what he hears and feels like lashing out towards the one who insulted you

Syzoth regains his composure and instead comes to your side and gives you a compliment and tells you not to listen to fools who like to bark like dogs

He laughs, maniacal and wicked. He tells them, through chocked laughter to repeat what they said

Once they do, he laughs some more before beginning to viciously beat them to death, screaming at them to never insult you again

Raises a brow and asks them to try and say that again because they must not be talking to you, his perfect partner

Trips them with his staff before spitting on them and leading you away with a caring smile

Hums a laugh, while looking them up and down. He claps his hands telling them that was a good attempt at an insult but Shang Tsung will show them real hurt

Absolutely eats them alive with his words. Tearing them apart and absolutely destroying all their confidence with just his words alone

Sneers toward the one who insulted you and walks over to them slowly. He looks up them up and down very quietly

His hand finds their neck and he squeezes tightly until they can no longer breathe before dropping them to floor

Gets up in the person's face and begins telling them to say that again and more than that while he begins to back them into a corner

He corners them and threatens them. Tomas tells them if they dare say another word, he'll have them choking on their tongue

Raiden tries to defuse the situation and is then insulted too. He doesn't mind, he simply nods his head

But then he quips back with something witty which angers them and they go to hit him but Raiden is too quick and dodges it before easily subduing them

Isn't one to stand idle after hearing someone insult you. He calls out to them, calling them an asshole before pushing them

Kung Lao begins threatening them and says if they're gonna try and be a tough guy then try to be one with him and see what happens

Absolutely furious. He can't hope to contain his rage and he's grabbing them by the collar and shoving them against the wall

He lashes out at them with his words and nearly crushes their throat but he sees you from the corner of his eye and you look scared. Bi-Han stops then, dropping them to the floor and rushing over to you before the two of you depart

Asks if he heard thar right and wraps on arm around their shoulder. He shakes his head and gives them a hardy slap on the back

Johnny offers some "friendly" advice by saying that if they dare say anything like that again, they'll have no more teeth left to talk with

Any insult given to you is an insult to him. Shao does not take kindly to insults

He doesn't say a word to them, merely crushing their head with his large hand before returning to your side as if nothing happened

Furrows his brows. He wants to get you out of that situation as quick as possible He leads you away from that person.

When the person who insulted you tries to follow, Geras is quick to freeze them in time and break their nose before continuing on his way with you

Tells them it is unwise to insult the lover of someone powerful and when they laugh in Liu Kang's face he sighs

He had hoped for a peaceful ending but it seems that not an option. He sharply kicks them straight in the gut, sending them colliding into the wall

His heart hurts knowing someone has disrespected you. Kuai Liang gets between the two of you and stares them down

Tells them if they are looking for a fight, they'll find one quickly and that it will not end well. Flames will engulf his fist as a show of power

Baraka has had many insults thrown at him but hearing one being thrown at you? He will not tolerate that

He grabs them by their shirt and begins threatening to turn them into minced meat if they dare insult you again

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"

Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.

People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.

I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.

These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.

This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.

The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.

There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:

"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."

That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.

[hermitcraftx]

ren: pet wolf dog, remniscient of a pet but never truly able to fully act as one, exotic thing to look at, one of those dogs that lives in the laps of luxury with plush pillows and diamonds for collars. serves as a guardian, mostly, but he’s still a wild animal. not meant to live in a home

joel: attack dog, pit dog, dog that has been taught nothing but violence and as such serves no master but violence, irrational and lashes out, high strung on a thin leash and eager to tear someones throat out, especially when given cause by another person. in the right situations capable of just barely sheathing his teeth, but as time passes on he grows more cornered and will always, without fail, grow desperate and lash out

pearl: feral dog, dog that should by all means be domesticated and tamed but was forsaken by the community, wanders around for scraps of love and affection but wary of humans. cannot survive within a household but is so domesticated cannot survive without one either. doomed to wander the neighborhood

martyn: abandoned guard dog, one of those dogs that needs a job or it’d go insane but has no master to leash him anymore, wanders around feeling lost and feeling scorned. devoted himself to a life of servitude and keeping someone safe and now that he has no one to pull on that leash he’s no longer functional. as time passes his teeth sharpen and he learns how to bite in the face of scorn

[macabrecabra]

Now can't have the Silph Bros having a gang without the prominent members of it! Introducing the Nightshade Mafia members under the direct command of Ghast, formerly Hauts' underlings.

Exception is Hund. Hund is only ever with Gen 100% because he's the 100% competent good boy.

Read more for more info and some design notes on each!

Hund VonDoom (Hounddoom)

The ever loyal butler, bodyguard, and all around the one person Gen tells everything to, Hund is often regarded as a member of the family for how he is always with Gen. He is a silent sort, never speaks unless spoken to and follows orders faithfully without question. Probably the only person Gen trusts without a second thought.

The question most have is if Gen and Hund are actually a couple or not which is hard to say as Gen says nothing about it and Hund is a quiet judgmental look to all. However, it can't be understated that no one probably knows Gen best than Hund.

Design Notes: I just imagined this bodyguard of Gen who hides the lower half of their face in their collar, giving them a kind of stern and mysterious look as a minion. Hounddoom because they are good boys and Hund would def have that guard dog vibe!

Kofco & Whezle Smogbur (Wheezing)

With the strange evolution of pokemon without humans about, the Wheezing evolution has taken a turn! Usually the two parts of Wheezing are surgically removed, leaving the two as close brothers. Such an ascension is seen highly in the Koffing community, thus Kofco and Whezle command some level of respect among their fellows.

The two have a rough and tough street-wise attitude and like to think they are the big pokemon on the block, more than willing to get into a scrap and show people who get in the way of the mafia who's boss.... until things get sticky, then they are both looking for the door in a blast of gas attack.

Design Notes: When I started to design their outfits, I kept thinking of Jasper and Horace from 101 Dalmations and the style of clothing they wore and it just really stuck in my head! The tiny hats on their heads was just the icing on the cake <3

Arbel Jessic (Arbok)

Arbel is a classy snake who is in the criminal business to satisfy her lavish spending habits and get access to all the best fashion at a discount. She is not above getting her hands dirty or taking charge of her dumb co-workers is need be. Can be the voice of reason at times in the group, tampering down the chaotic leanings that can happen. She is looking for love and loves to date in her free time, looking for the one.

She can be a bit vain though and when someone makes a comment about her looks she doesn't like, she will be quick to anger and to lash out. She gets along best with Victor in the group, mostly because Victor doesn't know what she is saying half the time... Design Notes: I was channeling Jessie from Team Rocket when making Arbel, just wanting a strong lady in the gang and just really brought the design together in the end <3 the patterns she has is different than official Arbok art as I feel each Arbok has its own special markings!

Victor Belkavitch (Victreebel)

An immigrant from another region, Victor came to Kanto for a new start in life and to take care of his very large extended family of cousins, nephews, grandparents, aunts, and uncles that followed after him. He fell in with the Nightshade Mafia for his impressive work in a bar shootout and has been with them ever since as the pay is good and he does not have to talk much. He is still learning the local language of Kanto and struggles at times with things.

He is the largest one in the gang and can brute strength a lot of things. Loyal to his co-workers whom he treats as family, he is a dependable sort and not above sticking a fight out to keep others safe. Also he is of a pokemon kind that is not above swallowing things whole, including other pokemon when ordered.

Design Notes: As soon as he was named Victor, his design of leather jacket and dark jeans was set in stone as a nod to the dress of gangs/mafias that are found in Eastern Europe. A hat didn't really fit as he had that leaf to be his hat. I just like Victreebels....

Wolbert Buffet (Wobbuffet)

They have been the mafia since it was form as a best friend of Hauts. They actually have the other half of Hauts' hat so between them is the whole hat which means a lot to both of them. Wolbert can come across as rather energetic and a bit absentminded about things, more emotional than most, but more than willing to take the brunt of an attack without hesitation. They took news of Hauts' death hard but remained in the gang to keep an eye on Ghast and make sure he doesn't get into trouble.

They really want to help Ghast in leading the mafia, but they themselves aren't really good at leadership things as motivating people is hard. They just yell loudly and act like they have an idea of what they are doing most of the time. They really shine when it comes to being in a fight or having to get through doors with their sticky fingers.

Design Notes: Wolbert was, by far, the hardest one to design of the gang. Wobbuffet has a simple design that I had to translate into a more anthropomorphic style. Also it felt better with their body type that they probably favor dresses or skirts, so they got a blend of a suit and skirt! Also no shoes, but nice socks!

Gilliad Gligland (Gligar)

Gilliad is the new face on the block and the only one of the mafia who never knew Hauts. Ghast has adopted them as their best friend as a result, teaching them how to be a real ganster! Gilliad is a tad gullible as a result, believing everything they are told. still green about the gills, they get really scared by being in situations and stumble a lot. He's still learning!

Design Note: Given that Gligar has the webbing for gliding, it felt important that their outfit gave them access to their ability naturally and that clothing was designed around them. It is something I'm keeping in mind with designs to take in the pokemon's anatomy when humanizing them! Also having a goofy friend for Ghast was key, so they share similar fashion and being goofy little boys!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 9

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger: A collar of course. You’ve now been promoted from dogsbody to pet. Congrats.

Kate: Thank you! This is a cute collar…Hm, collar? Wait, didn’t I tell you to stop treating me like a dog?

(Geez, it’s such a lovely choker. A collar…)

When I glared at him and pouted, he just stared back with a pleased smile.

(...Roger reminds me of me of an innocent boy when he smile)

His usually tense, thick brows were relaxed, and his parted lips revealed his canines.

Why does seeing him smile make me feel happy too?

(...Also)

Since becoming Roger’s exclusive Fairytale Keeper, I haven’t been feeling anxious or confused. 

(Even if he’s teases me, I have someone with me, watching my growth)

(It makes it all worth it, and motivates me to work harder)

 (Though…I think Roger’s got me dancing in the palm of his hand)

Regardless, I’m happy with the changes I’ve been going through during my time with Roger.

(No doubt Roger’s getting to know me better with the time we spend together)

(It’s like exposing your research subject)

Me on the other hand—

(The more time I spend with Roger, the more mysterious he’s become)

(That’s why…I want to know more about him)

Kate: Roger, um…Can I get one more reward?

Roger: Oh, that’s rare coming from someone who tends to be reserved. Go ahead and say it.

Kate: The more time we spend together, the more I wonder why you chose to be with Crown. And then I start to wonder what you’re even researching at this point. That’s why, I want to know the reason why…

Roger: Are you asking as my exclusive Fairytale Keeper, or for your own personal interest?

Amber eyes expose my heart.

Kate: …Probably both.

As Fairytale Keeper, I record his “sins” as a Cursed One.

As for myself, personally— 

I wanted to know what made my chest throb sometimes.

I definitely had an interest in Roger.

But I couldn’t say what kind of interest.

Kate: Still, I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, like a past you don’t want to talk about. If you don’t want to, then we can forget…

Roger: Pfft, haha. You really are a sincere one. Sure, I got nothing to hide. Summarizing it would be a pain, so hope you don’t mind a long story.

I don’t mind +4 +4

You’re going to tell me?

We have a long trip back.

Kate: I don’t mind. Please tell me about you, Roger.

Roger: In that case, let me tell you a story for our ride back to London.

With that, his long tale began.

—Unlike the train that’s moving us forward, Roger’s story takes us back into the past.

Roger: My old man’s a doctor, you’ve met him before. So for as long as I could remember, going to his clinic’s been part of my daily routine. I’m the eldest of 5 brothers and sisters. That’s probably why my dad relied on me a lot. Before I knew it, I wanted to be a doctor.

(In the beginning, I did get the impression that Roger was like an older brother…)

Kate: So you’re the eldest sibling. No wonder you’re so good at looking after others… What were you like as a kid?

Roger: Haven’t really changed. I was a brat with a thirst for knowledge that’d steal my old man’s medical books and charts. Maybe it’s because he also did as he pleased, but he was a pretty tolerant guy. Most of the time, he’d laugh it off. However, I remember getting a real tongue lashing when I tried to read a certain piece of research without asking.

Kate: And that piece of research was…

Roger: “About Cursed Ones”.

Cursed Ones—A term I hadn’t even heard of until a few weeks ago, but am now familiar with.

Had I not stumbled upon them that night—I would never have known.

(Roger learned about it from his father’s clinic…)

Kate: But only a few people know that Cursed Ones exist, right?

That information is regulated, and both the existence of them and Crown is kept from the public.

(I became a Fairytale Keeper because I knew…)

Roger: My old man’s “a part” of that world. Well, he probably “noticed” while examining a patient.

Kate: …I see. Doctors do examine a variety of people. When your father scolded you, it was because it was information that shouldn’t be known to the public. He tried to keep it a secret from you.

Roger: Yeah. A kid’s curiosity’s dreadful. So I went and read everything I could about Cursed Ones without my old man knowing. Should’ve locked that all up in a safe. He’s disorganized.

Kate: …That’s how you had free access to medical books and charts. I mean, hehe, you’ve been the same since you were a kid.

Roger: I guess. Now onto the main part of the story. When I was nearly done reading through all the research on Cursed Ones. It got to the point where I wanted to meet the author of a document, “Alexander Taylor”. In my search, I found that he was formerly a doctor at Gracefield Royal Hospital. Turns out he was my old man’s coworker.

Kate: When you say formerly, do you mean he left the hospital?

Roger: Yeah. Not sure why.

Kate: Is that how you found him?

Roger: Found him sooner than I thought. When he left the Royal Hospital, my old man rented the Barel family conservatory in the outskirts out to him. I found out he was doing some research by himself there.

“Alexander Taylor” left the Royal Hospital to continue his own research on Cursed Ones.

The more I heard about him, the more my imagination grew.

Kate: Then you…

Roger: Yeah, of course I went to see him. It was late at night, after my old man went to bed. I snuck out by myself.

~~ Flashback ~~

—The conservatory was empty and filled with silence.

Except for a young man in a white lab coat named Alexander Taylor, who was researching Cursed Ones all alone.

Roger: My name is Roger Barel. I’m the eldest child of the Barel family. I’m interested in your research, so let’s be friends.

Alec: …Yeah, go home okay?

Roger: Ah, haha…so that’s how it is. Well I didn’t think this would be easy, but it’s worth the challenge.

Alec: …You’re an annoying kid.

Every time I visited him, he’d turn me away.

However, when Alec realized I knew about Cursed Ones, he gave up and took me in.

Alec: You’re so persistent…

Roger: Yeah, I’m the kind of guy that’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

Alec: *sigh* I know. I give up. You can visit me here as long as you promise me one thing.

Roger: Yeah, I will! So from today on, we’re friends!

Being friends with him made me happier than I thought.

I grabbed Alec’s hand and swung it around.

That was the first time I saw him smile.

Alec: Heh, okay. We’re friends now. Nice to meet you little doctor.

~~ End Flashback ~~

Roger: After that, I started spending a lot of time with Alec at the conservatory. He was my first friend.

There was affection in his voice as he muttered nostalgically. 

Roger: Even though I was a kid, I knew Alec was a very brilliant man. That’s why I couldn’t understand why he left the Royal Hospital. I was skeptical that he was just doing research on Cursed Ones, hidden away in a conservatory.

~~ Flashback ~~

There was a time when I asked him— 

Roger: Hey, Alec. Why are you researching Cursed Ones in a place like this? They’re born all around the world, but hard to come by. Wouldn’t it have been better to do something like establish a treatment center for cancer since it’s incurable? Then the world would know just how talented you are!

Alec: Perhaps. But I’m willing to throw my position, reputation, and money away for this research.

As he said that, he looked off into the distance with a sad look.

Alec: Someone might eventually find a cure for cancer…but I’m certain no one would find one for curses. The voices of the minority tend to get drowned out. That’s why I have to listen carefully.

Roger: Hmm. You’re great for working so hard for others.

Alec: I’m not that good of a person, Roger. I just don’t want my soul to rot away.

~~ End Flashback ~~

Roger: Whenever I went to see Alec, it was always at an appointed time. He didn’t let me come by at any other time. There was a day when I went to see him at the appointed time…But no matter how long I wanted, he never came back. …So I just kept waiting.

Roger’s lips drew tight as if to swallow back his hoarse voice.

Kate: …Something happened.

Roger: Yeah. Alec burst into the conservatory with police after him.

~~ Flashback ~~

Suddenly, the door to the conservatory was thrown open.

Alec: Roger…Why. I thought you went home.

Roger: …Alec, what’s with the police? What’s wrong, what happened?

Police with black hair: Alexander Taylor, former doctor of the Royal Hospital, you are under arrest for being the prime suspect in organ trafficking!

Roger: Organ trafficking? Alec? Alec would never do something like that…!

Police with brown hair: What’s with this child? Is he involved in some way?

Police with black hair: Let’s bring this kid in as a witness.

The police officer reached out for me.

Roger: Stop it.

Alec: …

Alec—he saved me by touching the top of the police officers’ heads.

In an instant, their hands were smacked together.

As if in prayer.

Police with brown hair: W-what? I can’t move my hands apart…

Roger: …Special ability… Alec…you’re…a Cursed One?

Police with black hair: M-monster! Hey, kid with glasses, do you have anything to do with this?

Roger: Of course. Alec’s my fr—

Alec: …Roger. …Our promise?

Roger: Ah.

~~~~ Flashback within a flashback ~~~~

Alec: You can visit me here as long as you promise me one thing.

Roger: Promise?

Alec: If anyone asks about our relationship, reply with this. “We’re not friends. That person and I are complete strangers.”

Roger: What’s with that weird promise? Well, I guess it’s embarrassing to be friends with a kid like me.

Alec: …Yeah, let’s go with that. Promise me, Roger.

~~~~ End flashback within a flashback ~~~~

I was a child then, but I realized the meaning of that promise.

Roger: T-that person…and I… “We’re not friends. That person and I are complete strangers.”

Alec: …Thank you. —"That’s enough.“

[the-whispers-of-death]

Thinking about my Canine Handler! Stone x aggressive Dog Hybrid! Reader and I raise you (or myself, I guess) Canine Handler! Kali with aggressive Dog Hybrid! Reader. 🫧

Same concept, Kali is Reader’s last chance because he tore his last handler apart (the handler kinda deserved it though, he wasn’t very nice). Kali looking at his collection of feral children and thinking “eh, what’s one more?”

Reader immediately lunging at Kali and only being stopped by the fact that the too-tight collar is attached to a heavy metal post or the wall or something - if a person was holding it, they would have been dragged along. Kali being immediately angry but not at Reader, instead at the conditions they’re keeping him in.

Kali somehow calming down Reader enough that he can give him skritches behind the ear, Reader is confused because instead of lashing out at him for trying to kill him he’s just like “shh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here” while glaring down whoever is in charge of Reader right now because it’s pissing it down freezing rain and they have him tied to a post outside.

Canine Handler!Kali is so Daddy. He immediately unties you from the post and gets you inside, very carefully approaching you with slow movements when he needs to towel you off due to you being out in the rain. He's not scared you'll lash out at him, he just doesn't want to scare you.

His words are soft when he speaks to you, a stark contrast to the way his words are so clipped with whoever had tied you to the post. He's giving your scratches behind your ears, cooing at you.

Kali is so pissed when he finds out you haven't been fed your dinner yet, so he goes and gives you food, his heart breaking at the way you eat it so fast because your previous handlers took away your food when you were "bad". Don't you worry, Daddy Kali won't do that to you, he'll prove it to you too.

[honeycollectswhump]

Initials

[masterlist]

CW: whumper pov, pet whump, dehumanisation, cutting (NOT self-harm), gore

Mireille hadn’t put too much thought into it, not really. But she didn’t need to. The moment she lay eyes upon the initials carved into the jewelled perfume bottle in the home of one of her suitors, it was decided. 

Henri was a good man, certainly as good as he could get, though not without some imperfections. He was of good stature, broad shoulders, though unaware of how to present them, always slouching slightly, as if the weight of his own frame was too much. And really, that wasn’t acceptable in the eyes of perfection. Maybe Mireille could make him great, could make him her own and teach him how to be proper, but maybe this was the best he could get and she’d just waste her time. Honestly, she’d rather be certain of her efforts, but he didn’t need to know, for his presents still made lovely decor. 

He did have good taste, otherwise she wouldn’t have entertained him for so long. 

All that matters now though, is the sunlight catching in the glass carvings of the bottle, the image replaying in her mind. She wants it too, and she wants it now, and Mireille knows just the possession perfectly suited for this:

Her little ashtray.

There is no thought in her mind of where to do this, who to ask. None of them would see the vision in her mind, the exact way it’s supposed to look. They’d all mess it up, ignorant of the gracefulness she lent to her ashtray. No, this is a personal project.

It is too easy to acquire a proper knife without suspicion. These men –the useful ones– – would bend over backwards just to get a chance at pleasing her. Sometimes she’d go as far as calling it boring, but what else was she supposed to do when all it took was the batting of her lashes, looking up at them with big, dumb doe eyes and slightly parted lips? Her body spoke a language none of them could resist, none of them were ever more than prey to fall in worship. 

And worship they did, falling to their knees to satisfy her in all the ways she allowed them. She was their queen in satin sheets and velvet dresses.

So here she sits, legs crossed elegantly on her precious couch, the fine knife not yet unpacked, resting in a silver case, embedded with diamonds.

No one else understands that not only does the result need to be flawless, but every single step needs to be immaculate, from the tools to the cutting to the one performing. An image has to be created, a scene, and none of those lowly things could ever understand her vision. That was what has always made her inherently different, inherently superior, and deserving of rightful worship. 

A servant rushes into the room, hitching breaths restricted by the working collar, eying the golden bell set carefully on the glass table in front of her. 

“You called, Mistress?” they ask, staring cautiously at the floor, not yet daring to raise their eyes to meet hers. Good. She wants them revering. 

“Yes. Fetch me my ashtray, won’t you?” Mireille drawls, her bubbling excitement hidden under layers of refined grace. “And bring me some strong dogs. They will be needed.”

The servant nods, not worrying their stupid little head about her meaning, teasing what's to come, and rushes out as quickly as they came. They look frail, purposeful like porcelain, probably why she bought them, though their name or number had left her mind long ago. An unimportant piece of information abandoned along the way, replaced with something of value. 

Only minutes later, the same servant returns, gripping the ashtray’s golden leash too tightly. It’s barely noticeable but nonetheless doesn’t escape her all-seeing eyes; the way their knuckles drain of colour disturbs the otherwise pristine scene. They are followed by two guard dogs, muscular and well rested, their posture straight and imposing, their gaze hard and cold like unmoving stone. 

The ashtray looks perfect as usual, the thought both pleasing and stinging in a way that does not fit her image. So Mireille pushes it aside, a worry for later or preferably for never. They can’t have taken long to get him ready. And yet…

���Undress the ashtray. I want his chest to be free” Mireille orders, snapping her fingers. The servant quickly complies, buttoning the fine blouse the ashtray was decorated with open, pulling up away from him and folding it with learned precision. 

It only takes a hand movement for the ashtray to step forward, for him to sink to his knees in front of her. The poor lamb doesn’t yet know what is coming.

“Hold him.”

The ashtray gasps and for a single, disobedient moment looks up at her with big panicked eyes. The way his blue eyes shine in the golden light of the chandelier does nothing but strengthen her resolve. Maybe, in another world, the view in front of her would be a painting she saw at an auction, a beautiful angel wrapped in gold captured by beasts of stone, unknowing of his fate. And like a painting, it is only natural for her to leave her mark.

He doesn’t struggle, even when she can’t imagine this was part of his training, he just looks at her pleadingly, unsure what he is even begging for. 

It’s a scene now and Mireille will be a perfect part of it. 

Slowly, she stands up, taking the silver case from the table as she passes it, positioning herself right in front of the ashtray. It opens with a satisfying click, revealing polished metal, sharp edges, red velvet and her initials finely engraved on the handle. Mireille can just about stop a laugh from bubbling up. 

She crouches down to the ashtray’s eye level, laying a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t even lean into it. “Don’t. Move.”

Mireille takes the knife, letting it gleam in the gentle light, and hands the case to the servant still watching. 

She can’t mess up now. It has to come from her heart.

Carefully, she traces her initials into the skin on his collarbone, making only slight cuts, letting her letters swirl around. 

M. A. B.

Holding the knife like a painter's brush, with meticulous, perfected movements. It comes to her like second nature and the first step is completed. 

In a final decision, she lays the knife’s edge on the first line of the M, watching the ashtray’s breath hitch in horrible anticipation. Not even a wince has broken through his training and Mireille is more than curious to test how far she can take it. 

Were he any cheaper, she’d love to test what would get him to break his training. If she could get him to speak after all. But that wouldn’t be graceful, now would it? It would be a waste.

Instead, she presses it into his flesh, cutting down slowly, precisely. Once, then twice. The ashtray’s breath gets laboured and it only fuels her. She knows what she wants; an ornate engraving, decor on his skin, a signature on her masterpiece.

Fresh, richly red blood pours from the cuts, running down his bare chest like tiny rivers, connecting and separating, getting caught in raised scar tissue.

Mireille moves carefully, taking her sweet time, her lips opened slightly, imitating an artist. Position, press, slide. His flesh parts beautifully, like he was made for this. For a moment, she looks over to the servant, who is pressing the case against their chest, their face showing sloppily concealed horror, and it makes her smile. They would probably call it brutal, ignoring the gentle way her knife slides through his skin, not meeting any resistance. They’d call it violent, not comprehending the second artwork the rivulets of blood form through the hand of fate itself. They lack the mind of an artist and the nature of a human.

By the time she reaches the A, the ashtray is barely holding back sobs, letting out silent, crooked whimpers –a sound so ugly she should punish him for it–, as she etches her mark deep enough to hit the bone. Still, he doesn’t move, doesn’t strain against the unforgiving grip holding his arms, against her carving following the twirls and flourishes. 

She doesn’t admit to herself that it is more challenging than she thought, to follow the rounded lines with a tool that craves sharp edges and straight incisions. The curves of the B make the knife catch on the bone and the ashtray lets out a soundless gasping scream, blue eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The tears he could barely hold back before now run down his face in a disobedient river, mixing with the blood on his chest, destroying her artwork. 

He lifts his head upwards, in a last attempt to stop the flow of the tears, but it only makes them drip from his chin into the gashes and he is destroying everything–

A slap echoes through the room, loud enough to make his pathetic sobbing stop in an instant.

“Get your act together.” Mireille hisses, grabbing his chin and letting her manicured nails dig into his pretty face. “Or I will rip you apart, you worthless piece of trash.”

Only the word Worthless seems to get through to his stupid fucking pet brain. There is a reason he was made into a thoughtless object instead of anything else. His beauty is his only strength, the only reason they didn’t mercy-kill him, punish him for stealing space and air and atoms from anything with more use. 

He is an ashtray or he is Nothing. And if he keeps ruining her attempts to make Something out of him, he will wish she had let him keep his voice to beg for death.

At last, the ashtray doesn’t act up any more, stays motionless and silent as she finishes the B. When she pulls his skin taut, she can feel him tremble with the effort to keep still. Seems like his training had some use after all. 

Finally satisfied, Mireille lays the bloody knife aside, giving herself some time to analyze her work. Briefly, she turns to the servant to order a towel, before devoting her attention back to the signature, quickly overflowing with blood. It’s beautiful, but her interest lies somewhere else. 

She digs two fingers into a line of the A, pulling the incision apart. The ashtray only manages a whimper that she gives no regard to, as she digs deeper and deeper through the tissue, against the continuous blood flow. Then, against the intense red, her own personal gold shines through. 

Bone. 

A pleased giggle escapes her.

It is done. 

Whatever will happen, whoever will lay their eyes upon them, it will be eternally clear who he belongs to. There are nicks in his bone that her knife and her hands caused and he will forever know. 

And when her stupid little ashtray comes back to his senses and remembers his silent purpose, he will thank her for it tenfold.

Taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @sowhumpshaped, @clickerflight, @itsawhumpsideblog, @piniatafullofblood let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! if you did, i would be very thankful if you considered donating to @whumpcloud's gofundme for their top surgery (of course only if you are financially able to!!!). it would mean the world to us both <3

[interstella-eyes]

✦ Animal Cannibal

FULL ARTWORK UNDER THE CUT!!

Abuse + Eyestrain + light suggestiveness warning!! Putting this under the cut just in case even though it’s supposed to be angsty and not really suggestive. Alan is wearing a dog collar and muzzle for symbolism reasons but you can probably tell why it may appear suggestive lolll

I love this song (Animal Cannibal, that one song from the short film Possibly in Michigan) SO MUCH!! I've been wanting to do sth with the lyrics for a while since it fits Alan's and Nathan's dynamic so well!!

Personally I see Alan kinda like a hurt dog, lashing out at people coming close to him due to the things he's been through. He has no other choice but to return to his abuser Nathan because otherwise he would literally be homeless and without a job. Al bites the hand that feeds him (Nathan) because he despises Nathan, but is still dependant on him to receive his food.

The power that Nathan holds over Alan is symbolized here through the dog muzzle and leash. Al has no way to break free unless an outside force intervenes.

And the lyrics "Have we met before?" repeating in the background fits pretty well too because of Al finally recognizing Nathan after the transmission incident. Their mental link from that incident chains him to Nathan even further.

So uh. yeah. As you can tell im still very normal about The Character™️

[artcbyviet]

Tailoring Love And Style: Personalized Dog Collars & Lashes

Introduction:

Our beloved furry friends are not just pets; they are cherished members of our families. As pet owners, we strive to provide them with the best care and attention possible. Personalized dog collars and lashes have emerged as delightful accessories that combine style and functionality, allowing us to express our love for our canine companions in a unique and fashionable way. In this blog post, we will explore the charm of personalized dog collars and lashes, their benefits, and how they have become an essential part of modern pet care and fashion.

1. Expressing Your Pet's Personality:

Every dog has its own distinct personality, and personalized dog collars and lashes offer a delightful way to showcase their individuality. Whether it's a vibrant pattern, a unique design, or even their name engraved on the collar, these personalized accessories allow you to celebrate your pet's uniqueness and show the world just how special they are.

2. High-Quality Materials and Craftsmanship:

Personalized dog collars and lashes are crafted with care and attention to detail. They are often made from durable and comfortable materials like genuine leather, nylon, or fabric, ensuring they can withstand the wear and tear of daily use. The quality craftsmanship ensures that these accessories not only look stylish but also provide a secure and comfortable fit for your furry friend.

3. Enhancing Safety and Security:

Safety is a paramount concern for pet owners, and personalized collars can play a crucial role in keeping our four-legged friends safe. Many personalized dog collars come with ID tags, which include your contact information, making it easier for others to help reunite you with your pet if they happen to wander off. Additionally, reflective elements or LED lights on the collars can enhance visibility during nighttime walks, ensuring both you and your pet are visible to passing vehicles.

4. Fashion-Forward Canine Couture:

The world of pet fashion has grown exponentially, and personalized collars and lashes have become a part of this ever-evolving trend. With a wide array of colors, patterns, and designs to choose from, you can effortlessly elevate your pet's style quotient. From chic and sophisticated to playful and whimsical, these accessories allow your dog to step out in fashion-forward canine couture.

[jazztag]

An Encounter in the Snow II

"He was just their weapon. Now it's ours."

The soldiers stand very straight when they see the General arrive by the cell’s main gates. They exchange a look with him, and proceed to unlock the doors. Hero gets inside with long and slow steps, as if testing the waters before getting into them. He looks calm and calculated as always, but inside him, his bare-bones are shaking.

Inside the concrete room, the walls are bare of anything but chains. In the center, Weapon is being held down with a metal collar like a dog, and his four extremities are chained to the back wall. He lies on the floor, knealed and bending forward. One of his hands roam on his chest mindlessly, like unconsciously protecting his still-fresh bullet wounds. He’s been stripped of all of his clothes, minus his underwear, letting him keep it only for the soldiers’ convenience. His black hair falls down onto his eyes, hiding his face from the only source of light in the room, a lightbulb that hangs from the ceiling.

While approaching his enemy, Hero motions for the soldiers to position themselves on each side of Weapon. The enemy is held in such a way that he isn’t capable of touching any wall, the main collar pinning him to the ground, with only two meters spared to move. The General of the Republic stops to observe his prisoner, who is five meters away from him. He’s never been so close to that monster. The ones who did are already dead.

His gaze observes with utter curiosity the way his black and unkept waves fall onto his forehead. His mouth, slightly open, seems to taste the air. “He knows who is in front of him”, thinks the General. The monster has his eyes closed, and breathes through the mouth while trembling a bit. It isn’t actually cold, in here; it sould be because of blood loss. He has one hand hovering over the concrete floor, caressing mindlessly over the subtle bumps. His hands, notices the Hero. Hands can tell a lot about a person. Weapon’s tremble sublty, full of scars, still dirty from his soldiers’ blood. He lacks a bunch of nails, and one of his index is torn a bit in a weird angle. His veins are visibly blue under the pale skin.

Hero doesn’t say anything. He starts circling the beast, making sure he doesn’t step onto one of the multiple chains that hold Weapon onto the walls. He observes his neck, his elbows, and his bare back, where his back spine is quite visible under his scarred skin. How can a person look so strong but frail at the same time, wonders the General. Weapon has the body of someone who has spend their entire life fighting and enduring pain, but without nothing substantial to put in their mouth. Just flesh and muscles, a figure quite slim and angular which looks disturbing and unnatural.

And the cuts. The scars. This beast has been lashed on a daily basis, decides Hero, observing his nude back. Without mercy and probably with something made out of leather. The General shakes his thoughts out of his mind. No time for pity. It’s too late for that. He circles the beast and ends up in front oh him again, still five meters away from it.

Hero then kneels, right there and then, to be at the same eye level as Weapon. He stays down for a couple of seconds, finally asking outloud:

“You have a name, demon?”

The other doesn’t move at all. Only his hand keeps drawing circles on the concrete, absedmindly. Does he speak english, wonders the Hero. The orders given to him may have always been in German, so Weapon should not be able to understand anything remotely different apart from that.

"Name" insists Hero, getting angry by the minute. Not getting a single response after finally capturing that wardog, after enduring hell on earth to defeat his greatest enemy, he gets up on his feet and starts pacing towards Weapon.

“Name!" shouts Hero again. And finally, he gets his response. Not the one he was expecting, though. In a matter of a second, Weapon steps up and stomps towards the General, jerking his body as far as the chains let him. There’s a metal sound when all chains get tense, fighting the brute force of Weapon, who for the first time looks at the General in the eye.

And grins. A mischievous smile that makes Hero’s skin crawl in disgust. “He’s mocking me," decides the General.

They step like that, Hero and Weapon, a mere feet from eachother’s face. Then, like waking up from a daze, Weapon emits something resembling a cry, and falls onto his knees again. The chains relax a bit, and let him pull forward his arms and embrace his chest wounds. Some blood stains fall onto the floor, and the monster trembles, chin down but still giggling madly quietly.

“You mad dog”, spits out the Hero, looking at the mess in front of him. He steps back a little, trying not to loose composure, even tho he knows, deep down, that without those chains, he and his men would be already dead right this second.

Hero looks at Weapon, who’s still clutching his stomach in pain. “Sorry about that” says to the beast, “I should know best”.

General turns around and begins to walk towards the door.

“Weapons don’t have a name, don’t they?”

One of the soldiers walk towards him, right before he is exiting the cell.

“What do we do with him, sir?”

Hero crosses his arms, his face turned into one of absolute repulsion. He turns one last time to face Weapon.

"“Him”? It’s not a “him”. It’s a thing that kills without a brain, at the orders of the enemy. Without remorse or a second thought. It’s a thing, and so we will treat it like one.”

“Keep it contained after further notice."

Taglist: @whump-blog @bitchaknso (comment to get added/removed from the list!)

[kortacqueen]

MORE ELDRITCH KÖNIG WITH KORTAC:

(Thank you @artbythedarkside because you reignited this flame, also, credit to them for inspiring some of these)

Since KorTac provides König with bodies to eat, they are technically giving him human sacrifices

A byproduct of this is now König is kind of indebted to KorTac so he stays

But it’s definitely more of, you keep giving me food so I’ll stay and play nice but i won’t hesitate to kill you if a better deal comes along

That being said, he is definitely more loyal to the operators than KorTac itself.

Their relationship with him is odd

Like, they understand he could kill them whenever he wanted but they can’t wrap their heads around it

Like when the sweetest person is suddenly convicted of a crime

He’s the only member to get along with everyone, even if he hasn’t really tried to or had made some major mistakes

They eventually got him to come out of his shell a little and this was through physical affection

Declan would smack his back after a good mission, Stilletto and Fender would pay his shoulder and back, Hutch would grab his hand and pay his arm, Horangi…well he’s weird

Horangi probably helped the most with König’s weird urges (not nsfw hold on)

See, König sees the operators more as cats/pets rather than actual human beings.

Not derogatory or anything, but he thinks that their squishiness is cute and how breakable they are is funny

Like how elephants think of people like people think of dogs

It’s actually why he can come off as socially anxious, he is worry about that but it’s a lot of him reminding himself that he can’t just mess and touch people

He really wants to pet their heads, ruffle their hair, squish their faces and sometimes squeeze them to death

Sometimes he has the urge to snap them in half cause their cute

He thinks this with everyone, anyone and everyone. For some reason the urge is stronger with Ghost and Callisto. Probably because they will fight back the most

Horangi helped a lot by instigating lots of physical affection

Laying in him, leaning on him, CLIMBING on him, petting his head and patting his nonexistent cheeks

König is incredibly protective of what he believes is his and if that is threatened, he will do whatever it takes to protect it

This is especially true with Horangi since they are a thing

Surprisingly, Horangi is the dominant one in the relationship and both have staked a claim on each other

If on base, König will wear a collar under his hood. Not for anything sex related (mostly) but its mostly just satisfying to be the only one to know König is wearing it

Horangi got piercings. Idk what else to say, they’re permanent, beautiful, and make him extra sensitive

Over time Horangi’s body started to change because of their bond and he becomes his summoner skin

Everyone just rolls with it and König thinks it super hot. They have a very healthy stable relationship

That being said, König is INCREDIBLY picky about the people he surrounds himself with.

If he doesn’t like you, you’re done.

At first when he was new, he ignored the assholes because of his rank, but that quickly changed

The Eldritch beings like him are very violent and harsh beings, so when he doesn’t like something he will lash out and hurt you

And be prepared because there is one warning and they are not always that easy to spot.

It is highly unlikely that he will ever act out against any members of KorTac, because they treat him well, when they could treat him badly

That being said, if he is offended he will say so

Despite having to learn about the more subtle nuances of living like a human, he can blend in very well to a stranger

Once you spend time with him, it becomes more clear he is not from wherever he is at that point

For a long time he watched people from his world

He was summoned for a military project that did succeed (he’s still there are serving so…)

But they didn’t give him an any food so he ate some of the workers there

When summoning König, one needs pigs blood to draw the summoning circle, to say the proper words and (most importantly) a human sacrifice(s), eight octopi, and two hearts.

Summoning a creature of König level requires 5 sacrifices and no less.

The whole thing is very tiring for him and leaves him as vulnerable as he can be (which is not very)

When retelling the story of his summons, he was questioned by Zeus if he would ever turn on them

He said ‘I would turn on KorTac easily, you all, not so much.’

His masks are incredibly important for him to keep his shape. His body needs an outlet or some part to be more free, that’s were his masks come in

He can keep a stable fully human shape for 5 hours max but after that he gets super exhausted and things get weird

However, this 5 hours is under extremely controlled circumstances, on a mission he can comfortably do 3 hours

In the case that his masks are ripped, cut, shredded, burned, or damaged in some way that reveals his face, problems occur quickly

The short version, things begin to leak

The void usually kept under control in his hood and balaclava leaks, multiple eyes will look out of the void, sharp teeth and multiple smiles, an eye with multiple irises, his neck will open up and in the middle is his giant mouth.

He also becomes mentally unstable and paranoid.

All in all, not a fun experience for anyone

He can keep his eyes and use his tentacles (like some fanart where he lifts his mask and stares with his tentacles out)

It is just more difficult to eat people and he mostly uses that form for intimidation and not much else

[nervousd]

BEING OBSESSED WITH HIS EX! LOVER

→ PREVIOUS

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

#SYNOPSIS—Headcanons + scenario on Recom Lyle obsessing over his ex! lover

#WARNING(S)— dark lyle(?)obsession, fixation, unhealthy thoughts,non-consent touching, personality crisis(?)identity crisis(?) sniffing kink(?)

#CHARACTER(S)— Recom! Lyle Wainfleet

No matter how hard he tried, how much effort he put into himself— wether by causing mischief or even going as far as hurting himself you still wouldn’t turn your head to him. As much as he loved the chase he was starting to get frustrated. The only time you’ve ever gone to look for him was to scream at him, claiming how he couldn’t just scare the man you were interested in. How he can’t just walk back into your life expecting things to go his way. Couldn’t you see he simply wanted things to go back the way they were. The way it’s meant to be— how it’s suppose to be. With you in his arms, giving him that pretty smile and batting your eyes at him.

There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t by your side. He was always near, with a bouquet of flowers from the wildlife of Pandora or any odd fruits he found in the forest. He would continue this for many months, ignoring the way his gifts were left untouched. He didn’t mind one bit, claiming that they just didn’t catch your attention (A lie he often told himself to cope with) He would simply have to gain your attention in a different manner.

An opportunity had come by when he met you at the gym by chance. Laughing with the man you were interested in. His tail flicked in agitation, you acted so normal to everyone else. Giving them attention and affection while he wasn’t even given a speck. To cope with his newfound aggression he turned back to his weights, adding pile after pile. Muscles tensing as he tested out the new strength his body possessed. Placing his weights down, he glanced over to your direction finding you gone.

His lips curled up into a snarl, obviously displeased from your disappearance. You wouldn’t be off somewhere with the man you were seeing, right? A low growl rumbled against his chest, he stalked off looking for any hints he could find you. His nose twitched catching scent of something sweet. He was familiar with the sugary smell— when he was human he often found himself with his nose buried in your neck finding peace in your scent. Like a dog he trailed after the smell, footsteps quickening as he got closer.

His ears flattened against his skull, pupils shrinking as he caught sight of you flirting with your male companion. His canines gritting against each other, tail lashing behind him. Short hisses escaping past his lips, nose flaring as he walked up to the two of you pushing the man to the ground. He ignored your shouting behind him, focusing on the man you were cozying up to. He picked him up by the collar of his shirt, enjoying the thrill he gets in being stronger than him. His gaze would shift towards you expecting a bright smile and opened arms but alas he was met with a look of horror.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Reeling back his fist, Lyle landed a square punch on his jaw. Enjoying the sickening crunch that erupted from his attack. The man fell down in one hit, moaning and groaning in pain as he cradled his jaw. Lyle barked out a snicker, ❝ Oh, man, that is just sad ❞ His fun was cut short as you screamed. You rushed past him, dropping down to the ground as you frantically checked the man moaning in pain. Lyle scoffed, tail flicking in annoyance. Just what is it about him that catches your attention?

His hand gripped onto your forearm, ❝ Let’s go, buttercup ❞ you struggled against his grip. Screaming out protest as you tried to reach the wounded man. However, it proved to be fruitless, he was far much stronger than you. Your footsteps could barley keep up with his pace, occasionally tripping on your own as he dragged you past corridors. Your hands whacked his back countless times, yelling and screaming at him. ❝ Now— don’t be like that, hmm? What do we say we go to my room and talk this out yeah? Wouldn’t you like that baby? ❞ Without waiting for an answer, he dragged you towards his dorm. Opening the door he tossed you inside as if you were nothing but a rag doll to him.

You scowled at his brutish behavior ❝ Enough of this! I don’t want to be here— I told you I don’t want anything to do with you! ❞ He ignored your words, rather busying himself at staring you down. You were so small— so cute. Noticing his clouded gaze you made a run for the door. But alas it was a failure, his hands wrapped around your waist tossing you towards his bed. You bounced from the impact, scrambling to get off. Lyle pounced on you, caging you between his arms ❝Come on now, it’s me— your boyfriend! Quit struggling so much❞ You shook your head, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

He ran his hands up your body, memorizing the familiar shape he once traced in his past life. He groped whatever he was able to access, squeezing your waist noticing just how small you are to him. His hand was big enough to cover your entire stomach. Slowly, he brought his lips towards your neck, leaving traces of wet kisses. His nose flared as he inhaled your scent at the corner of your nape, a grin curved up the corner of his lips. His tail curled, it was exactly how he remembers you— so plaint for him.

→ Tag List

@dyingofcookies | @lala-1516 | @the-black-pines

[wraithdance]

The TF 141 Compatibility Love Report

For: @dwarvenagenda

Disclaimer:

This is based on my personal opinion and interpretation of you and the character.  the user makes no claims to be a real doctor or any medical professional. Please don't sue me! I got shook down by some girl scouts, they took my money and broke my knee caps. I have nothing but my illusions of grandeur left :(

The Doc says your TF 141 Perfect Match is…

Simon 'Ghost' Riley!

Romance: Unsurprisingly this was a no brainer for me! Romance with you and this scary murder muffin would be like two worlds colliding and merging into something so fundamentally right it blinds the rest of us peons. Simon is often misunderstood and labelled as a 'big bad'. As a partner you would be able to give him the space to put down his armor and be his unmasked self (doubly important because I do personally believe he is on the autistic spectrum.) The same would be said for you, given his protection of his family and his loyalty to his team, I don't think Simon would shy away from supporting you through even the hardest times. Mutual understanding and acceptance is the core of why I believe this is your perfect match.

Simon has weathered the torrential storms life has given him, he's not leaving you behind once he's got that collar on him and babes the leash you'd hold is but another string of fate. I specifically use dog analogies in reference for Simon because as humans a lot of us like to believe we are absolved of our primal natures with the emphasis on moral rightness.

Simon is someone who seems to embrace his more 'primitive' traits to be effective and cut through to the hard truths over politeness. To me, that means when Simon has his teeth in someone soft with gentle hands, he's in for life. In this dynamic physical connection would take precedence (with a bit of an awkward phase inevitably) and shared inside jokes would be the glue to a successful relationship. Romance with him is lazy days in bed at your rustic cabin or farm, taste testing recipes while music plays in the kitchen, playing footsie while checking in on your stardew valley crops.

Sex:  Please know that shit would be so good you'd need 800 years to write love sonnets about it. Sex with Simon would be the definition of dichotomy. Rough and primal, all teeth and tight grip, demands for acknowledgment of your life long (and beyond) connection. But also sensual and slow, wet lashes and heady kisses, sweetness that usurps the taste of candy. Either way he's taking care of you the whole time and he'll put you first. Def into freaky shit if you are! Get him comfortable with not having control and you can hogtie that man up and ride him like your life depends on it, if you so choose.

Possible points of Contention:

Trouble with communicating needs

may be insensitive about certain niceties

heavy handed with the petting (good luck to you and your pets lol)

Your Poly Pairing (haha) is…

GhostGaz- Pure bliss. Do I even need to tell you the vibes? In this poly pairing you would 100% be the ward to Simon's knight. Gaz would act as the charming diplomat and first point of contact for potential threats. But when shit hits the fan? These men work like perfectly oiled machines to get you all to the other-side. that goes for the way they'd flow in a relationship with you. Always pivoting around each other in an intricate dance to ensure the continued happiness of your lil love bubble. Besides who wouldn't want to wake up to the literal epitome of sour and sweet?

[wickjump]

I'm obverving you drop more and more about the cross whump and I'm studying you like the hummingbird I grabbed to carry out of my parents garage because it got stuck like a stupid idiot.

Here’s some more silly fuel to keep them buzzing wings going

-How would cross try to communicate with the gang once he’s comfortable enough with them? Because obviously talking is still out of the question. Does he write? Sign language?

-does cross have issues with eating? Because I'm pretty sure a dog can't use silverware to eat their kibble.

-if someone were to push cross over the edge, would he bite people? Obviously a panic attack would follow, but does he bite or just launch at them? Does he even use his magic anymore?

THANKYOU FOR KEEPING MY WINGS BUZZING BECAUSE BUZZING THEY ARE

- Cross wouldn’t speak, point blank. He doesn’t know sign, and writing things down feels like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to. He won’t speak unless told the command, but the others don’t command him, so he doesn’t speak. He’d make noises like grunts and growls and whines to try and get at what he needs or doesn’t, but he’s generally a lot quieter now.

- He’d know how to use silverware and everything, and he didn’t eat kibble- more like regular food condescendingly chopped up into little cubes. Eating with his hands was gross at first, but he got used to it. After being supplied with silverware, he was eager to use it, but he’d have issues with sitting at the table, it feels like he’s breaking a rule. Eating is fine for him, though he’s used to having food withheld from him, so he gets surprised when he’s fed consistently- as well as three times a day and not two.

- I don’t think he’s that animalistic or feral, the dog conditioning is more to do with unwavering loyalty and obedience, ‘training’ and all that. The reason he’s made to not sleep on beds and eat on the floor and given a collar he can’t take off is because it reminds him of his place. I like to feel skeletons have animalistic traits, as in purring and growling and fangs, which Cross has, and those traits heighten when all other forms of communication are banned. He’s still sentient, he still thinks and feels like a normal person, he just believes himself less than human (monster?). His only purpose is to serve and show loyalty to whoever ‘owns him’, that’s all he is and ever will be. He doesn’t walk on all fours, he has complex thoughts and feelings, and if he was commanded to, he would speak like normal.

However, I can’t say that if someone’s hand was around his mouth in a threatening manner, he wouldn’t bite them. And I also can’t say that he wouldn’t lash out. I think he wouldn’t struggle with his magic, as he was likely made to attack people depending on who the whumper is, and magic is needed for that. However, his magic is more unstable as his mental state is, and he doesn’t use his magic unless commanded to.

Actually, I suppose that counts as him not really using his magic, as nobody commands him to use it anymore, so he doesn’t to be safe.