pitgritted

[pitgritted]

would you believe me if i said i got Sett muse hard hitting the walls of my brain just purely listening to arcane songs —

[pitgritted]

❝  goldilocks  …  look  at  me  .  ❞  gruffed  the  grizzled  half  -  beast  .  many  would  warn  not  to  stay  alone  with  the  likes  of  him  .  stay  away  –  avoid  the  incensed  jaws  of  the  beast  .  hands  that  dislocated  bone  &  ripped  through  fibrous  sinew  like  paper  ,  gently  embraced  the  inventor  from  behind  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  was  settled  ,  one  leg  lunged  forward  &  thigh  propped  up  against  the  table  jayce  had  been  working  upon  .  effectively  using  his  frame  to  trap  them  .  his  hands  began  to  work  his  shoulders  over  the  man’s  layered  uniform  .  strong  fingers  gripped  talis’  muscles  ,  sliding  around  the  back  of  his  neck  &  forward  again  ,  ultimately  coarse  fingers  gripping  his  jaw  ,  tilting  the  piltovan’s  head  up  against  his  neck  .  ❝  i  like  the  new  look  .  ❞  he  purred  ,  teeth  glinting  in  the  dim  firelight  .  

❝  hands  off  the  machinery  …  &  let  me  look  at’cha  .  ❞ 

༝ 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠…

[ … ] Though…  it’s come to be something he expects   &&.   admittedly enjoys.  It’s never quite as chaotic or as overwhelming as Piltover was,  a fact he was relieved to find.  It was controlled,  always just enough to be quickly snuffed out like a match between fingertips with any brief flare of disruption or outburst of violence that arose.  Ironically considered safe enough he could lower his guard without being so cautiously balanced on edge.

It’d been awhile since he’d returned to Ionia,  taken temporary refuge in the Pits to continue his research,  to indulge in old missed mindlessly soothing routines.  But it’s more than needed at this time he reasons,  a necessary space to clear his head,  to work through things at his own pace while feeling useful even if only for a moment.  Assess   &&.   study,  take notes,  draw up new ways to improve upon past designs then assemble them together with his bare hands to progress.  Comfortably set.  The routine itself enough to be steadfast,  set in stone   —   about the only stable thing he could really rely on in his life with recent events burning to such another high melting point.

Something ready to explode or cause further harm.

With a roughened shake of his head,  short,  bluntly done,  he forcibly clears his mind,  throwing himself further into his fixating,  into the perfected movements of his hands,  the practiced but no less precise dart of his eyes between messily scrawled notes,  their quickly jotted diagrams made to correct further as he went.  Like a well-oiled machine mid-function,  it’s soothing to slip into.

Huffing softly under his breath,  the Piltovan makes a faint face,  reaching up to sharply comb his fallen,  overgrown bangs from his eyes back behind an ear.  Mind is whirling,  sinking more   &&.   more out of focus with his surroundings,  with his present company.  Potentially worrying given he’d always kept such an interested eye on his professional associate,  answering the occasional question,  making small talk that often bled into playful but amicable chattering unrelated to the original topic.

Too busy flitting around the table,  when he’s suddenly addressed directly, it may or may not cause him to freeze in some surprise.

It takes a moment,  more a physical lure to hook   &&.   guide accompanied by a low,  thunder echoed command to bring him out of his own head.  @pitgritted’s voice is rolled out in a static gruffened purr of sorts,  the nickname quick to summon a sharp twitch of the Inventor’s lips,  half amusement,  half brief confusion as he goes to glance over with curiously thinned gold.

A responding hum rattling tiredly up the column of his throat is all he gives,  before he feels the other’s arms encircle him,  the sea-like sway of a warmed body radiating welcoming heat into his back as he’s held near tenderly.  Startlingly gentle of all things…  his scars are still new despite his recovery,  another new attack ending not quite as well,  resulting in him tensing briefly at the proximity towards his healed over wound before he gives in,  melts in relief against the half-breed.

The way he’s caged him,  bracketed along like a living barrier   —   coming from others,  it’d spark at more explosively claustrophobic fears.  Trapped.  Here it ironically makes him feel like a broken object held firmly together.  Like a clay pot held until the patched glue set between its sharpened edges properly dried.  Reliable,  trustworthy.  Safe despite the known violence that lingers like dried blood at bruised knuckles,  blooming under flushed skin,  imbedded deep beneath claw-tipped nails.  The scent of it always had a habit of lingering,  all in an ironic way where he couldn’t tell if it was the typical metallic scent that clung to him given his craft as a smith or from Sett with the violence that trailed at his heels like a blood trail.

Hands work themselves firmly along his tensed shoulders,  familiar in motion with enough finesse to properly,  surprisingly sooth the jittery muscles beneath with ease,  before they quickly find themselves journeying over their bend.  It’s almost embarrassing how lax he is,  how obediently he goes when having fingers guide his face up   &&.   back. The touch at his jaw is felt through toughened callouses marking the pads of others fingers,  digits heavily scarred via old healed slashes   &&.   cuts,  burns he can only wildly guess are arcane-made through the magic he commands   —   all reminding him it’s the Vastayan that’s got him held steady.

It gives him something to latch onto,  a lifeline to normalcy even with his pulse fluttering wildly like a startled bird in a cage.  At the pleased sounding purr Sett gives,  vivid eyes tracing the starting of a beard growing in along Jayce’s own jaw   —   something about the way it’s delivered,  the addition of trusted touch to compliment the unexpected bit of praise   —   Jayce is able to snap from his scattered state back into something more put together,  more like himself again as he quirks a weak mirroring of the others cheeky grin back.

Testing the give of the hold,  starry sights gently flit between countering amber in wildfire flared amusement,  something fond colouring his gaze a hue warmer.  Huffing out a snort,  acquiescing quietly with a faint roll of his eyes as he puts his tools down,  he plucks his gloves right off   —  the Inventor reaches up to pat his own along Sett’s in some warning.  Twisting in the space he’s encased in,  managing to do so with the other’s roughened hand skimming closely along to follow the scruff of his chin,  eventually he manages to turn   &&.   fully face the looming Brawler.

Head cocking to the side,  he’s admittedly curious what the others opinion is.  What the plan was exactly with what was enacted.  With an encouraging drawl,  low but a purr all his own,  the Inventor asks.

` ❝ Well? ❞

` ⟢ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 . h,,, hi bastian ,, pls dont mind me ...

[pitgritted]

Nobody fucking “owns” me so jot that down

[pitgritted]

the  crowd  was  anxious  as  they  always  were  ,  a  mounted  assembly  of  people  grappling  the  wooden  railings  woven  around  in  an  intricate  circle  .  many  of  the  bidders  in  the  luxury  boxes  were  passing  money  with  the  expectation  that  the  blademaster  had  already  cornered  her  befallen  victim  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  ,  as  always  ,  pasted  to  his  sunken  seat  &  watching  with  coined  eyes  .  amongst  the  deafening  calamity  of  an  audience  ,  the  boss’  ears  perked  up  .  despite  the  distance  between  them  ,  his  eyes  found  the  winning  hand  .  his  toothy  grin  was  all  razor  sharp  teeth  &  hunger  .  but  he  wasn’t  smiling  ;  not  this  time  .  he  was  bored  —  to  say  it  bluntly  .  he  snaps  his  ringed  fingers  as  his  imposing  bouts  tossed  the  prize  money  in  a  crimson  pouch  .  it  puddles  once  it  lands  at  her  feet  ;  golden  bile  clicking  as  it  expunged  from  impregnated  canvases  .

the  heavy  sought  for  boss  the  blademaster  fought  so  hard  to  please  wasn’t  —  nor  did  he  intend  —  to  acknowledge  left  with  his  back  turned  .  stalking  away  through  the  frenzied  crowd  .  the  sound  of  the  bell  is  wrung  ,  breaking  the  pitchy  timbre  of  the  crowd  .  his  feet  crunch  abandoned  tickets  &  loitering  petals  as  he  struts  through  .  mainly  attempting  to  make  an  appearance  within  the  unit  of  the  arena  separating  arena  from  civil  society  .

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  had  visibly  become  hairier  ;  simply  because  of  seasonal  change  .  his  fur  started  to  whiten  a  bit  around  the  angles  of  his  lupine  ears  .  thicker  tufts  protruding  from  softer  folds  &  hair  —  once  swept  to  the  left  &  cut  —  became  fluid  &  long  .  it  pools  across  broadened  powerful  shoulders  ,  even  if  it  were  kept  in  a  relatively  decent  attempt  of  a  ponytail  .  his  tongue  rolls  a  damp  wooden  toothpick  ,  his  scarred  lips  shiny  as  tongue  &  saliva  paint  it  a  sheen  .  he  clicks  his  jowls  then  ,  standing  a  good  distance  from  the  man  arched  over  in  his  seat  writing  about  something  .  something  he’s  yet  to  presumably  look  over  &  approve  .

his  nares  amounted  to  being  the  pilty  —  specifically  jayce  talis  .  seemed  he  wasn’t  the  only  one  in  the  brunt  of  being  considerably  fucking  busy  .

❝  y’  make  it  sound  like  we  ain’t  gonna  see  each  other  ever  again  .  you  plan  on  ditchin’  me  already  ?  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  responds  ,  unmoving  when  he  watched  the  albeit  shorter  male  approach  him  .  the  half  -  beast  keeps  hands  strapped  against  his  sides  ,  the  soft  itch  of  purple  fur  tickling  his  ivory  neck  &  golden  speckled  form  .

his  breath  captures  —  a  settled  hiccup  of  air  pitted  within  the  depths  of  his  throat  .  in  a  harmonious  state  as  eyes  linger  on  the  moving  nerves  of  jayce’s  face  the  closer  he  got  .  as  delicate  as  the  touch  was  ,  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  wasn’t  expecting  to  get  caught  off  guard  with  it  .  he  was  simply  used  to  somehow  being  manhandled  with  something  in  relation  to  work  .  that’s  just  how  his  entrepreneurship  yielded  him  at  this  time  .  but  this  wasn’t  transactional  ;  it  was  tethered  into  something  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  wasn’t  all  too  familiar  with  .

his  bright  eyes  bolt  towards  the  other  hand  tracing  the  outline  of  hair  sprouting  around  his  maw  .  predominantly  his  chin  &  jawline  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  doesn’t  move  for  a  few  more  heartbeats  —  his  body  subconsciously  assuring  this  wasn’t  some  kind  of  trick  of  manipulation  .

❝  hah  .  you’re  lucky  i  don’t  chin  -  check  ya  for  that  one  .  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓 detached  a  gloved  hand  alas  ,  naked  calloused  tendrils  moving  to  curve  around  the  man’s  wrist  ,  thumbs  overlapping  the  definition  of  knuckle  &  wrist  bone  .  he  rubs  there  ,  adding  friction  &  pressure  .  not  enough  to  hurt  ,  but  have  the  other  recognize  what  he’s  currently  doing  .  ❝  i  can  say  the  same  to  you  ,  goldilocks  .  seems  yer  embracing  having  long  hair  .  suits  ya  .  ❞  as  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓 cocks  his  head  to  the  side  ,  his  elongated  ponytail  follows  ,  crimson  hair  rushing  in  lazy  fashion  ;  flooding  in  varying  angles  .  caressing  his  back  .  ❝  just  a  victim  of  bein’  busy  .  i’ll  get  it  cut  .  ❞

༝ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

[ … ] But when far from Piltover, even in spaces like this where he was more or less comfortable, where the Inventor knew for certain he held a level of safety around to lower his guard, to properly relax &&. lose sight of his surroundings without much to truly fear — old borne habits were hard to put to rest, no matter the amount of logic thrown atop to smother. He supposes this was a unique exception, finding he’d only now recalled he hadn’t seen hide or hair of the Pit’s usually ever present Boss around.

Nothing during the entire duration of his stay so far. Odd, but… not uncommon given the trust put in Jayce’s hands to stick to his usual routine of regular maintenance &&. upgrading work.

Like carefully maintained clockwork, it’s been how they’d functioned for nearly over a year now. Humming quietly, reaching for his lukewarm coffee, he contemplates taking a much more proper break to grab something warm, to stretch his legs once he notices the tell-tale numbness rooting itself along tired limbs. Sipping at his drink while sitting up that bit straighter, he is deeply engrossed, too focused on giving his notes a final look over before making up his mind.

He doesn’t notice the sound of familiar footfalls approaching, nor notice the shadow looming into frame, the simmer-warm thrum of curiosity laced amusement as the onlooker watches him work in observant silence. Eventually Jayce snaps out of it, rolling his eyes softly with a slight scoffed sigh before he wills himself to glance over, noticing the Vastayan’s usual gear with enough quick recognition to feel his quietly startled hackles to ease.

@pitgritted. Well, it’s about time he came by to look things over.

` ❝ Pit seems to be keeping your hands full, huh? Wasn’t sure I’d catch you before I left… ❞

His tone is friendly, teasing despite his words with a lighthearted tinge. Finally, he puts his papers down, swivelling on his seat from the messy work bench he’d been pouring his attentions over for hours now, days if he wanted to be bluntly honest, to look over at the Fighter. Blue-flecked gold flit along his features, eyes briefly widening in thinly veiled surprise at the sight of longer hair, noticeably by a great deal, swept back from the Half-breed’s face into a simple ponytail. Bangs fell into his eyes, but all in a frustrating way that framed it well without being too much of a distracting hindrance for the man.

Jayce can’t help but push himself right to his feet, moving over, step by step getting in close, watching with some mirroring, possibly stolen bit of mirthful amusement as he’s studied right back by the taller of the pair. Gloves plucked off, placed delicately to the side leaving his hands vulnerably bare — within the next heartbeat, he’s reaching over to fidget with a stray strand of hair caught lightly between his thumb &&. forefinger.

Rolling the captured strands between, he brushes his other free hand over the bit of overgrown stubble speckling at Sett’s jaw. Not enough to be too noticeable unless you were up close, but he’s nothing if not familiar with the sight of someone who’s had a lot on their plate, enough it saved little time for self-maintenance. With a quiet laugh, he continues.

` ❝ …Living up a little too much to the nickname ‘Fluffy’. Look at that… I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair this long before. ❞

` ⟢ 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 .

[pitgritted]

A robotic hand holds a mistletoe above the Bosses head. Dangling it precariously above the two as a smile plays on Viktors lips.

“ Oh, would you look at that – mistletoe .”

TENDRILS  GLIDE  IN  RHYTHMIC  TAPS  UPON  THE  TABLE  .  sensual  arches  covet  in  scarring  &  crimson  patches  of  fur  curling  over  jutting  ridges  of  muscle  &  vein  .  his  ear  flicks  sideways  &  golden  eyes  follow  the  languid  trail  in  direction  of  his  furry  auricles  ;  tugged  with  an  invisible  reign  as  it  fixates  on  the  garbed  man  next  to  him  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  forked  his  tongue  against  his  lips  &  fangs  ,  swiping  roughly  upon  contact  ,  his  fangs  resting  in  place  thereafter  .

the  boss  wipes  oily  hands  upon  the  white  fabric  of  his  pants  ,  claws  pricking  soft  rolls  into  the  textile  as  he  rolls  his  pelvis  forward  as  he  slumped  further  into  his  seat  with  an  amused  groan  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  lifts  a  hand  to  scratch  at  his  abdomen  ,  dragging  tendrils  across  tawny  craggy  skin  before  it  eventually  thrusts  upward  to  hook  onto  the  herald’s  exotically  patterned  vestments  .

❝  you’re  really  cheesy  ,  vik  .  ‘  a  mistletoe  —  really  ?  ❞  came  the  gruff  timbre  of  the  crimson  vastaya  .  as  hot  as  were  the  churning  of  magic  scorching  his  blood  vessels  ,  his  lips  too  coming  to  capture  viktor’s  in  a  hot  searing  kiss  .  tugging  the  man  down  to  his  level  of  seating  .  the  boss  dominated  the  field  simply  by  dragging  his  tongue  over  viktor’s  lips  ;  probing  him  to  open  up  .  sharpened  teeth  click  with  duller  ones  as  the  kiss  further  deepened  .  growls  reverberated  through  the  depths  of  his  esophagus  ,  rippling  through  hairy  breasts  as  he  finally  unhooked  &  detaches  hooked  claws  from  the  man’s  fabrics  after  a  short  while  .

he’ll  keep  viktor  bent  on  his  whims  if  he  wanted  to  ;  prolong  their  game  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  savored  the  taste  of  the  herald  on  his  lips  as  he  slowly  went  back  to  watching  the  spectacle  .  ❝  if  y’  want  to  kiss  me  more  ,  y’  owe  me  money  .  that  one  was  just  me  bein’  in  the  holiday  spirit  .  ❞

[pitgritted]

what if they kissed ( I know I’m late )

From x

The inventor was rather invested in his notebook , making observations of the people in the pit as he always had . Pieces of paper shoved into its various pages as he leans himself over the edge of the railing from above . Watching the crowds flood in - clamoring to get to the front to make their bets , buy tickets , or already get drunk . His nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol , only to feel the presences of the much larger press itself to his back . His muscles tense for a moment , the large calloused digits of the Vastayan running itself over the silken fabric that decorated Viktors body in replacement of the shredded blanket that he commonly was seen in. He found himself leaning back into the touch - eyes half lidded as he hummed pleasantly to welcome the touch . Something that he hadn't become used to until recently - since Sett himself was a rather touchy man and left barely any room for Viktor to voice his grievances of personal space .

" Careful now , if you keep doing this someone will see you being rather soft to me ." His hand reaches up , fingers gently touching the cheek of Setts face - which rested on his shoulder . The rumbling purr of the vastayan resonating deep within the heralds core as Sett pulled him closer. " Sett ?" he says rather confused as the grip becomes tighter , worry on his features before hes spun around to meet the rather flush face of the Boss - Alcohol on his breath as he leans close to Viktor . His nose wrinkling once again as the hot thick smell of whatever he drank assaulting Viktors face with each exhale that came from the much larger . " Now - you know how I feel when you d - "

Lips were seized, the Heralds hand coming up to the others chest to try and push away, only to be crushed further against his body. It was a rather feeble attempt to push Sett away , not as if he hated the action. More of he knew exactly what type of taste was going to assault his mouth as soon as the others large tongue invaded his mouth . He grunts, brow furrowing as eyes close. Pressing into the rather messy kiss as clawed calloused fingers held the back of his head. Weaving within brown locks of hair to keep him in place as his breath was filled with the scent of alcohol. The bitter sting of the liquid in his mouth , dancing on his tongue and searing his nostrils. Finally , he was relinquished from Setts lips , tongue quickly sliding over his lips to break the trail of saliva that connected their rather messy shared affections . Inhaling deeply as he finally allowed the chance to bring fresh cool air into his lungs . His half lidded eyes watching the Bosses golden eyes glint with amusement as he cleans his own mouth with his forearm . His ears that Viktor admired barely having any control on the top of his head , flopping around with every sound that came from below them instead of their graceful swivel . " You're a rather needy beast aren't you ?" Viktor says teasingly , amused even , hands finding themselves on Sett this time to push him away from the railing away from prying eyes . " Come here , the people don't need to see their boss in such a state ."

[pitgritted]

[pitgritted]

“there is nothing poetic about clawing at your chest, trying to empty yourself of these poisonous words, coming up with nothing in your palms but blood.”

— excerpt from four things echo knows to be true | published in UNMYTHOLOGIZE (via inkmagician)

[pitgritted]

➤                       @anomallis power accommodates his weaknesses ; but he gets pretty weak when you're up close & personal . HERALD form seems to portray an aggressive stature of power & dominance . 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 . ➤                       might have to overcompensate for his intelligence & experiments . 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 ? ➤                       𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐃 - 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 . he ended up staying longer than i anticipated . ➤                       recently he wanted to appear more ' ionian ' -- whatever that means . given him ionian garbs & a wolverine pin to distinguish him a bit more from the other staff & foreigners .

➤                       went through literally all of my prints to be satisfied with a sketch of him . 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖 ? 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 .

[pitgritted]

if you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I, am not. And I am out there, very dangerous and I am looking for you. Good luck

[pitgritted]

“He could suffocate you with his fucking biceps if he wanted to yall. I—”

Jayce is filing his nails, boredly leaning, tilting back in his chair in his designated work space with a snort &&. a more than amused laugh.

“But ‘Fluffy’ hasn’t.”

Truly a shame. Not a bad way to go.

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  eyes  him  with  incredulous  enthusiasm  .  jutting  sharpened  nails  pick  at  the  golden  hook  of  his  fisticuffs  ,  before  tossing  the  weighted  metal  upon  the  tray  .  he  emits  an  exasperated  ruff  of  air  through  his  nasal  cavities  ,  his  thumb  scratching  lightly  at  the  scar  overlapping  the  bridge  .  ❝  normally  i  won’t  indulge  in  yer  weird  fantasies  ,  jayce  —  but  I’m  willing  to  make  an  exception  for  runnin’  yer  mouth  .  ❞

❝  careful  what’cha  wish  for  …  y’  better  not  be  bluffin’  when  you  find  yourself  unable  to  breathe.  ❞  the  boss  snorted  ,  the  outline  of  protruding  veins  flexing  atop  the  shiny  contours  &  definition  of  meaty  muscle  . ❝  hate  to  have  our  contract  cut  so  short  …  but  it’s  what  y’  want  .  ❞

[pitgritted]

“ Careful now Sett - I’m starting to think you actually enjoy my presence . . . and being called ‘ pretty kitty’ . . . “ theres a small smile playing on his face .

his  cheeks  evidently  tinge  a  red  hue  . ❝  you’re  gettin’  too  comfortable  saying  this  out  loud  .  hate  t’  ruin  the  fun  …  then  i  won’t  be  too  pretty  ,  hm  ?  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  scratches  the  length  of  his  scruffy  neck  with  his  claws  ,  outlining  the  shape  of  his  artery  &  the  dips  of  his  tendons  dipping  into  his  golden  necked  clavicle  .  the  boss  had  his  standards  ;  whether  he  was  going  to  be  all  puddy  or  tough  .

naturally  he  opted  for  the  tough  route  .

❝  ‘nough  with  the  teasing  ,  vik'  .  ❞  his  ears  are  absolutely  betraying  him  &  a  minor  swaying  of  his  ingrown  tail  .

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doodles from the past week

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I always say it— but I’m such a sucker for scenes where sett is so out of touch with himself. He’s considered a dangerous predator that can rip the jugular out of someone with his claws alone — and then there’s that one person grabbing his face and making him stare @ you . calming him down ..,, giving him kisses and soft reassurances that he’s okay

He doesn’t have to defend himself anymore. The “danger” is gone

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Happy Halloween 🎃!

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Gently kicking your door with a question this fine morning! Given Sett and his mother have had a hard hard life enduring a lot of mockery, abuse, along with poverty before he fought his way to power in the fighting pits, has he developed any habits or traumas because of all the hardships endured? Does it manifest in any way, like food insecurity trauma, an over-mindfulness / over attentiveness to things like maintained appearances as a result? :000

it’s  funny  you  say  that  because  you  quite  literally  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  .  obviously  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  being  an  abnormal  product  of  a  human  &  vastaya  can  be  seen  as  tainted  blood  of  the  chimeric  race  of  humanoids  that  are  the  descendants  from  enlightened  mortals  ;  vastayashai'rei  .  however  ,  it  would  seem  that  the  vastaya  of  modern  day  forget  that  the  originated  race  came  about  from  a  mixing  of  the  vastayashai'rei  &  humans  with  some  tribes  having  stronger  vastayashai'rei  heritage  than  others  .  but  there  have  been  recent  disdain  for  humans  from  the  vastaya  tribes  .  Sett  being  the  recent  qualifiers  of  being  considered  a  “  demi  -  human  “  —  otherwise  a  child  of  mistake  .

➤                       𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  definitely  developed  some  trauma  ,  having  been  quite  literally  beaten  while  he’s  made  an  effort  to  cover  his  body  .  &  i  certainly  do  think  his  mother  had  also  been  beaten  &  slapped  for  trying  to  defend  her  son  ;  even  if  she  had  to  use  her  body  as  a  shield  if  she  refused  to  use  her  claws  .

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓 suffers  a  handful  of  mental  illnesses  ,  among  it  being  undiagnosed  C-PTSD  &  anxiety  .  paranoia  becoming  another  big  contributor  . 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  wasn’t  able  to  vent  out  his  frustrations  or  combat  it  .  he  wasn’t  able  to  fight  back  until  he  was  forced  to  as  defense  or  when  his  mother  became  a  subject  of  aggression  by  the  opposing  party  .  definitely  didn’t  help  with  being  in  poverty  &  rarely  anyone  allowing  you  to  be  a  big  contributor  for  a  meager  job  .

just  to  make  a  living  .

➤                       in  terms  of  his  appearances  ,  he  has  learnt  later  on  in  his  life  to  just  accept  who  he  was  .  i've  had  this  conversation  before  with  a  lot  of  lovely  moots  of  mine  ,  but  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  used  to  pull  &  tug  hard  at  his  ears  &  ingrown  tail  .  he  used  to  try  &  scratch  out  patches  of  fur  &  cut  off  his  ears  because  he  wasn't  fully  human  (  until  his  mother  intervened  )  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  now  has  scarring  at  the  base  of  his  ears  /  tail  ,  where  fur  no  longer  grows  due  to  stress  &  prolonged  damage  .

in  terms  of  eating  ,  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  only  ate  what  him  &  his  mother  were  afforded  to  get  .  mainly  rice  &  oats  as  a  kid  ,  but  he  always  made  sure  to  give  his  mother  the  larger  portion  (  hence  his  fragility  &  frailness  )  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  didn't  care  if  he  was  still  hungry  ,  only  if  his  mother  was  taken  care  of  .  of  course  ,  he  sometimes  will  miss  a  meal  as  an  adult  after  becoming  rich  .  he  wants  to  assure  his  mother's  comforts  before  his  own  .

granted  ,  with  bingwen  coming  along  into  his  life  ,  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  had  no  choice  to  engorge  on  meats  &  other  nutrition  to  become  as  big  as  he  is  today  .

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❝  watch  those  hands  if  y’  know  what’s  good  for  you  ,  darius  .  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  venomously  echoed  ,  his  voice  drooling  of  anger  (  also  being  half  startled  by  the  fact  )  .  he  had  been  so  attentive  to  counting  coin  ,  fumbling  each  circular  spec  into  a  brown  pouch  slowly  becoming  engorged  in  gold  .  the  ionian  &  noxian  half  -  blood  fumbled  claws  against  the  hands  that  usually  slung  a  great  -  battle  axe  ,  amputating  the  heads  of  its  victims  or  broken  sternums  .

crimson  fur  standing  on  end  when  the  half  -  beast  didn’t  exactly  expect  the  man’s  lips  also  to  navigate  his  neck  either  .  his  adam’s  apple  bobbed  slowly  ;  mumbling  expletives  &  threats  detailed  how  he  was  going  to  knock  out  darius  at  some  point  for  this  —  but  it  was  hard  considering  his  instincts  were  starting  to  get  riled  up  .  his  only  noises  were  low  grunts  &  groans  ,  thwarted  by  his  sharpened  teeth  clamping  down  to  withhold  it .

❝  don’t  —  bite  .  dammnit  —  !  ❞  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  detached  a  wrist  &  flexed  his  tendrils  to  grip  the  man’s  dark  hair  &  tug  .  claws  digging  into  the  man’s  scalp  in  warning  .  it  didn’t  much  help  when  he  felt  the  noxian  begin  to  fondle  the  outline  of  his  cladded  organ  ,  only  encouraging  his  arousal  further  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  makes  a  muted  sound  ,  his  canines  now  slackened  .  ❝  shut  up  …  yer  playing  hard  ball  .  don’t  get  cocky .  ❞  he  retorted  ,  the  half  -  vastsya  moving  another  hand  to  grip  darius’  leg  —  that  too  enduring  his  viper  grip  .  

⟐ cont  .  from  here  /  @viiteaz