#briefly but its there

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

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Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though.��Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[nenoname]

you can see that the script originally had ford building an anti-gravity machine for the science fair (which i guess acts as foreshadowing to the portal?), but the sun lightbulb feels like it would've connected to the opening of stanchurian candidate....

[audible301]

Consider me a follower of the Ankarna Cassandra Ruvina Galicaea misunderstood lesbian pantheon

[reader-from-nowhere]

Better luck next time!

Death loop au by @keferon :3

[pillowbugs]

(from ingo's LA concept art)

thinking about gliscor and how it's the perfect ace for ingo in LA. it represents his past, those he's lost who were closest to him.

do you think gliscor's wide grin reminds him of home, a person, who would welcome him with the same?

would his gentle swaying in the breeze, its lilac and black form, its bright golden eyes, bring to mind a beloved partner who moved and looked so similar?

or perhaps it's in the feeling of earth shaking under his feet, familiar tracks in battle, and perhaps as gliscor shows off his prowess in battle, he blinks, and sees a mole with gleaming claws - or perhaps an imposing tusked dragon, instead.

his pincers bring to mind another with a tough rock shell, and his venom a bulky pokémon with similarly effective poisons. they're all at another station far away, but they live on in his new partner.

gliscor isn't a replacement for them, of course. it would be unwise to merely regard him as such. gliscor reflects the then, but just as important is the now, as its own pokémon, with his own role to play.

it's not surprising for ingo to have befriended a gliscor, given its natural habitat is his new workplace. it's also strong against his ward, sneasler; ground to counter her poison, flying against her fighting. that being poisoned actually heals gliscor rather than hurts, also helps massively.

gliscor's typing is ground and flying. it even fits him, no matter the time. spending most of his waking hours underground - as the wonderful, impressive machinery he barely remembers was built only to traverse great distances on land - and yet, having lofty ambitions to reach ever greater heights. it's in his name, even. or, now, the peaks of the coronet highlands, where heaven and earth meet.

gliscor uses a razor fang to evolve; theoretically, it doesn't need him to evolve, as many such specimens in the wild prove. that being said, to grow from a gligar when they first met, to a gliscor now, his partner relies on him, trusts him, to help him reach greater heights.

and in the same way, perhaps ingo relies on gliscor too. as a loyal friend in the present, and, deep down, a reminder of so many others to live for, to return to one day.

***

the doylist reason for gliscor being ingo's ace that i couldn't really fit into the narration above: gligar and sneasel were already considered counterparts previously, so new sneasel's evolution's warden getting gliscor makes sense.

gligar/gliscor have the same base stat total as sneasel/weavile (/sneasler by extension).

both gligar and sneasel are from generation 2, and gained their evolutions in generation 4 by holding similar items and evolving at night. (sneasler evolves in the day, but that merely shifts the duality, not discards it.)

in pokémon colosseum, both gligar and sneasel are obtained as shadow pokémon in the under subway.

and, on a similar note to the latter point: most likely a coincidence, but gliscor and chandelure were made available at the same time in SV, from the teal mask DLC.

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[anbaisai]

he'll try anything that works

(Reference)

[scribz-ag24]

nth duskvyle dump on this blog

[veritablenonsense]

sctir is such a good story if you're obsessed with worldbuilding Implications because yoojin is also Constantly thinking about that stuff. He's just a (previously) regular guy who has to live in this weird urban portal fantasy world so he cares about stuff like tax brackets and zoning laws and fair contract-writing and alternative uses of everyone's crazy supernatural powers. I can't count the number of times I started thinking "wait, couldn't you-" only to have it answered the next sentence. When his internal monologue mentioned dungeon resets being used for public waste disposal i practically cheered

[thefastestclockintheuniverse]

Just to really drive home how good the DELICIOUS panel is, please regard my carefully curated collection of BLUH panels.

[simplyender]

Can you tell I've leveled up my game?

[parksrway]

literally why did they make it look like that

[bogleech]

silly little teaser clip for the test print, kickstart backers will get it first probably in summertime and then it should be available to everybody by the end of the year. I might even officially give my site's Halloween content a real break (barring maybe a couple posts if I see anything really really good) and do a lot of Mortasheen promo stuff instead

[molathesunfish]

primarily inspired by this post. trying my hand at making some limbus fursonas

[glitteringdepths]

back on my xiaolumi bullshit again ^_^

[filurig]

instructional booklet for basal and listless ceteceans feeling like looking for porpoise