SCRUMPTIOUS - Tumblr Posts

guys I can be funny sometimes

😍😍😍

Now thats a mans man

A Seraph’s Journal #1

The world has moved on from that old world, covered it over in dirt and water like a new skin. It forgot the old, but the old refuses to be forgotten entirely. The broken bones of the old world pokes through the world’s new skin,  ancient injuries that never healed, and never would. The new grows around it, trying still to hide it and make it forgotten, invisible. But we find those old places inevitably. Perhaps we expect something different, something new from the same tragedy told in each place that’s found. But we never find what we’re looking for. We only find the dead. And there are so many dead. In cellars, in homes, in churches, in towns, in fortresses, in castles, the dead tell us the same tale: the world ended long ago. They could not stop it. They were not saved. We stand in the green fields of their failure and, seeing a peaceful sunset, wonder if it was really failure at all.

Scrumptious Semiya Hot and Spicy

I once saw a post that was like: “wtf Octavinelle only wears simple suits while the rest of the dorms wear these beautiful complicated outfits that probably take hours to put on even with magic that’s so lazy”

Lemme tell you why Octavinelle wears suits and why it’s so impactful.

A suit implies work. It implies work ethic. It implies “Whoever and whatever this person works for, there’s an expectation to get things done, but in an efficient, presentable manner.”

Beyond that, a suit in a prestigious magic school implies “normalcy.” It says “This dorm and it’s students are still grounded in the reality of the everyday person, even those who don’t/can’t do magic.”

In comparison to the rest of the dorms, an Octavinelle’s uniform is familiar. Humble, intelligent, honest, and approachable.

It’s an angler fish’s lure.

Because while you’re busy admiring and relating to these fine, upstanding gentlemen, they’re tracing their tongues along their teeth. They have bodies in the freezer. Their pockets are lined with dirty money. They strangle throats, collect debts, they know where you sleep… but they have friends. And connections.

So they couldn’t possibly be bad.

To the unsuspecting small fry, an Octavinelle in a suit knows what he wants and he knows how to get it… so surely he can do the same for you.

How that happens doesn’t matter.

In the end, an Octavinelle will always be the embodiment of good business.

Campbells: Cream of Moth

Moth in the pot

does the hyperfixation ever hit you in that extremely particular way where you want to be able to physically eat the thing you're obsessing over or is that just me

May..may I ask for kid!webby and teen!wiggly…./nf

piggy back rides

@the-four-terrapins oh Mikey, I know what you want! *puts Whipped cream on my exposed naked body* now come here and feast on me darling! This little wolf isn't going to eat all this creamy sensation by herself you know. *licks lips* 💖🧡💖🧡

Such a good girl preparing my meal, and with such presentation. I am simply famished and ready to devour. I warn you, my hunger can be insatiable. 

Alright gang...

Emperor.

It's an it.

Content- many whumpees, one whumper, sadistic whumper, mindbreaking, trained objectification, it as a pronoun (trained), pet whump, water torture mention, shock mention, captivity, family whump (whumpees are brothers), carewhumpee, nonhuman whumpees, human whumper, foul language, humiliation, stockholm (?), refusal to escape

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Onas paced inside his cell, the enchanted chain attached to his ankle clinking behind him noisily. His hooves clicked heavily on the dirty cement floor.

'Where the fuck is my brother?' His mind roared. Logan had taken Brilom well over an hour ago. This couldn't be good. His little brother was so defenseless.

Onas looked out from the bars of his cell, a few feet out of reach from them. He could see the lightbulb flicker in the hallway, agitating his sensitive vision.

The door at the end of the hall clicked open.

Logan walked in, his smug smile bolder than ever. He had a leash in hand- smooth genuine leather. Onas' heart twisted as he saw his brother dragged in on his knees. Several gauze bandages were draped across his body, soaking up the deep red blood. Onas noticed as they got closer that Brilom was dripping with water.

"Logan," Onas snarled, tugging at the end of his chain. His stupid, unbreakable chain. He set his feirce gaze on the man, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, Onas!" Logan gushed, tugging Brilom behind him. The smaller boy struggled to keep up. "Won't you look at my pet? I think I did it!"

Onas kept his voice level and slow, his fingers twitching into fists. "Did what, Logan?"

"You know you're supposed to call me Master." Logan's eyes narrowed with anger, then melted back into their natural smugness. "My pet knows for sure~"

The cell door, just out of Onas' reach, opened and Logan led Brilom inside, unclipping the leash from his collar.

Onas' heart dropped and his mind clouded with loathing for Logan. Brilom's head was down, his wet hair a curtain hiding his face. He was silent, unmoving.

"Logan, what did you do to him?" Onas didn't try to keep the hate from his voice this time, yanking uselessly against the chain.

"I broke it! After all this training, I finally did it!" Logan grinned, nudging Brilom's flank with the tip of his boot. "Pet, sit."

"He's not just gonna-" Onas cut off, mouth still open. Brilom dropped back into a kneeling position. His back was straight and his hands gripped his thighs.

"Yes, Master." Brilom's voice was a hoarse whisper. Onas couldn't see his face with his head still bowed.

"Chin up, Pet. Show your brother how good you are." Logan grabbed a handful of Brilom's hair, tugging it back. "Tell him."

Brilom held his head high, looking right into Onas' eyes. "I'm a good pet."

"Brilom-" Onas whispered, his whole body going cold. His brother's eyes were usually hazy due to his partial blindness but this- this was different. They were hopeless now, blank of any other emotion.

"Pet, go crawl to your brother. You two can relax together." Logan flicked his hand, letting go of his hair.

Brilom dropped back to his hands and knees, crawling within Onas' reach.

Immediately, Onas dropped to his brother's level. He pulled the drenched boy against his chest, squeezing.

"Brilom..." He pressed his forehead to the back of his brother's head breifly. "You're okay. I'm never gonna let him take you again."

"Oh, I'll take it whenever I want to." Logan grinned from the doorway.

"My brother," Onas growled, "is not an it."

Logan laughed a sick, mocking laugh. "Yes it is. And it is my pet. Which means I own it and can do with it what I please."

"He is not an it! He is a living, breathing satyr. If you even think that you-"

"It's an it." Brilom's small voice said. He was crying now. Everything went still for a moment. "It is master's pet, and it'll-" Brilom took a shaky breath. "-it will do anything its master asks it to."

"Brilom, you can't mean that!" Onas cried.

His brother shook his? Its? head. Onas turned his attention to Logan, who was standing outside the cell now. The door was still wide open.

"You know he can't fight back, you sick fuck! What did you do to him?"

Logan grinned. "Oh, you wanna see? I suppose ill have you watch the tape tomorrow morning. For now, I must go." Logan glanced at the open door, then back at Onas' chain. "I'll leave the door open, I think.

Pet, you will not leave this cell until I tell you to. If I find out you did, we'll do another round of water torture, alright? We don't want that, now do we?"

"I'll stay right here, master." Brilom assured, his already weak voice wavering in fear. Onas felt the other satyr shiver against him. "I'll be good."

"You aren't gonna take him." Onas growled.

Brilom jolted, hands flying up to grip the shock collar. The smaller satyr let out an anguished bleat as electricty ran through both of them.

"Every time you refer to it as a 'he,' I'm shocking it." Logan waved Brilom's collar's remote around. "I have cameras posted everywhere. Do what you think is best for it, alright?"

As Logan's nice boots clicked down the hallway, Onas loosened his grip on Brilom. As soon as the door at the end of the hall shut, he nudged Brilom forwards.

"This is your chance to escape," he urged, squeezing his sibling's hand. "Go. Don't look back. I'll find my way to you."

Brilom didn't move. "It can't go. Master told it to stay."

Onas could've cried. "You- you're really-" He turned Brilom to face him. "If you go home, you could go back to normal life. Doesn't that sound nice? You could see Mom again?"

"But- Master told it to stay. It wants- it needs to be good... it doesn't want Master to drown it again..." Brilom looked up at Onas with those sad, blue eyes.

"Oh, buddy..." Onas whispered. "You- you really want to be called an it?"

Brilom nodded. "Yes. It's an it now. Please."

"Fine. If it gets you from being hurt like that... you're still my brother though, okay?"

Brilom nodded, collapsing into Onas's chest in a sobbing heap. Onas wrapped his big arms around him- it and closed his eyes.

Only when it fell asleep did Onas let himself cry, nose pressed to the top of its head. Onas wouldn't let his sibling see him like this, not now.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS set design appreciation: ― Bilbo's Birthday Party

Scrumptious Semiya Hot and Spicy

Finished my custom Bloodborne jacket!

Scrumptious Chocolate Cupcake