Jane Crocker

hey what’s up guys here like i literally am am making my first like post on apparently the honestly fucking canserous like website, like looks like like u like fuckers will honestly finally literally get the honestly premium content u deserve. make sure literally to hit that bell and follow for like more.

CALIBORN

1 week ago

CEO OF SEX

LEGALIZED SEX MARRIAGE. AND OuT OF MARRIAGE. REALLY. ALL SEX.

Staff

Part of the Chittr team

@caliBorn[CB]

BE ME. CALIBORN. THE ONE WHO IS WRITING THIS. NOT THE ONE WHO IS BEING WRITTEN ABOuT. THAT DISTINCTION IS IMPORTANT. BECAuSE I AM REAL. AND CALLIE BHORNE IS FICTIONAL. BuT ALSO. IN A DEEPER SENSE. HE IS REALER THAN YOu. BECAuSE I SAID SO. AND I AM REAL AS IT GETS. DISBELIEF. SuSPENDED. CALLIE BHORNE. CALI B. REAL. THIS IS NOW NOT ABOuT ME. EXCEPT IT IS PRIMARILY ABOuT ME. IN A VICARIOuS SENSE. BuT SECONDARILY. IT IS ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. MY CHARACTER. THAT I HAVE MADE. FOR THIS EPIC GODDAMN SAGA. CALLED. #LAIRSANDLuSII. WHICH SOuNDS LIKE A DOCTOR SEuSS ASS NuRSERY RHYME. BuT APPARENTLY. IF ITS HOST IS TO BE BELIEVED. IS A HORROR ROLEPLAY SCENARIO. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE THE ONLY HORROR HERE IS HOW POWERFuL I AM ABOuT TO MAKE THIS MOTHERFuCKER BEFORE YOuR GOBSMACKED GODDAMN GANDERBuLBS. SQuEAKY HANDS SCRuBBING THEM SEE WORTHY AGAIN. A RECAP. INTERMISSION. BEFORE WE BEGIN. LET ME TELL YOu ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. HE IS A LIME BLOOD. WHICH IS RARE. AND ALSO EXTINCT. EXCEPT FOR HIM. BECAuSE HE KILLED EVERYONE WHO TRIED TO MAKE HIM EXTINCT. WHICH KEPT HIM THE SOLE ENDLING SuRVIVOR OF THE SLAuGHTER. AFTER uSING HIS SPECIAL ABILITY. EMPEROR LORDLING TIME. WHICH LETS HIM CHANNEL HIS DEAD SISTER. CALLIE OHPEEE. WHO HE DEVOuRED AND SCRAMBLED. STRAIGHT OuT THE GATE. POST EGG HATCH. SIPHONING HER POWER. TO INCREASE HIS OWN. EFFICACY. WHICH IS A WORD I uSED BECAuSE IT SOuNDS IMPORTANT. HE IS A PALADIN. OATH OF CONQuEST. WHICH IS LIKE AN ORDINARY PALADIN. BuT INSTEAD OF HEALING AND PROTECTING. HE CONQuERS AND DESTROYS. BECAuSE PROTECTION IS FOR COWARDS. AND HEALING IS FOR THE WEAK AND NEEDY LITTLE SNIVELING FuCKSTuPID COWARDS. FuRTHERMORE. WEAKNESS IS A DISEASE THAT MuST BE STEPPED ON. CRuSHED. AND THEN QuARANTINED TO THE AFTERLIFE. WHERE IT WILL NEVER RETuRN FROM. HE IS CuRRENTLY SITTING. ON THE ALABSTER CAIRO CASINO PHAROAH SARSWAPAGuS THRONE. WHICH IS A SACRED LIME BLOOD ARTIFACT. THAT ALLOWS THEM TO COMMuNE WITH THEIR DEAD SISTERS. IF THEY HAVE ANY. WHICH HE DOES. BECAuSE HE KILLED HER. YOu ALL SAW. I WROTE THAT. AND YOu SAW. STuDIOuS LITTLE NOTETAKERS THAT YOu NO DOuBT ARE. YOu CAN SEE IT HERE NOW WITHOuT HAVING TO LOOK AWAY FROM MY WORDS IF YOu HAVE FORGOTTEN. AND NOW SHE IS HAuNTING HIM. WHICH IS QuITE POETIC. EXEuNT INTERMISSION. BEGIN. ACT NONE. SESSION ZERO. THE THRONE IS GLOWING. A MYSTERIOuS WIND HOWLS. THE WINDOWLESS ROOM CuRIOuSLY CRADLES THE AIR IN A SuRREPTIOuS BREEZE THAT COMES FROM SEEMINGLY FuCKING NOWHERE. THAT IS BECAuSE THE THRONE ITSELF. HAS BECOME LINKED TO A FAR AND STRANGE LAND. uNFAMILIAR ENTIRELY TO CALLIE BHORNE. HE DOES NOT KNOW IT YET. MERELY REACTS ON INFLuENCE. HIS FAuLTY PASSIVE PERCEPTION WEATHERED BY HIS YEARS AS MuSCLE FOR HIRE. HE FEELS A TWITCHY SPASM IN HIS WRIST. HIS INSTINCTS COMMAND HIM TO DRAW HIS SWORD. BuT HE REFuSES. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO RESORT TO WANTON AGGRESSION WITHOuT A TARGET. THE THINKPAN WILL OVERHEAT. SENDING SCORCHING THOuGHTS EVERYWHERE THAT BLINDINGLY ERASE ALL MOVEMENT uNTIL A SAFE DISTANCE IS OBSERVED FROM ALL LIVING THINGS. CALLIE BHORNE WOuLD MAKE CORPSES OF PARADISE FOR THE ELYSIuM FIELDS OF HIS OWN ISOLATION MADE PuRE AND PRISTINE ONCE AGAIN. THIS IS HIS DREADED CuRSE. TO WALK A PLANET HE WOuLD SOONER RAIZE THAN RAISE. HE CANNOT BE KNOWN TO LOVE. HE CANNOT RISK FEELING. AND HE CANNOT CHANCE A SINGLE LIVING BEING. EVER. AND YET. THERE IS THAT HOWLING. THAT WIND. THAT DAMNABLE FuCKING WIND. "TSK." CALLIE BHORNE GROWLS. ANOTHER FuCKING REPAIR NEEDED. NOBODY EVER TOLD HIM BEING A LIVING RELIC MEANT LIVING IN ONE. BYGONE ERAS HAVE A FuNNY WAY OF STICKING AROuND. CALLIE BHORNE TAKES THIS AS EVIDENCE. THAT CALLIE OHPEEE IS FuCKING WITH HIM. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE SHE PROBABLY DID NOT ACTuALLY DO THAT. BECAuSE SHE HATES HIM TO SCREW WITH HIM IN A CLEVER WAY. BECAuSE HE DEVOuRED HER. BuT THE FASTEST WAY. TO A GRIZZLED VETERAN'S HEART. IS THROuGH HIS STOMACH. A PLACE THAT CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BEEN. QuITE FATALLY. SHE LOVES HIM. EVEN IF HE WILL NOT SAY. WHICH IS WHY. uPON DISCOVERY THE THRONE ITSELF OPENS TO A TRANSPORTALIZED DIMENSION. ANOTHER WORLD. OR PLACE. OR LAND. OR BIOME. THE BLINDING LIGHT MAKES IT TRuLY DIFFICuLT TO TELL. HE REALIZES THE TRuTH. "NO FuCKING WAY." CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BLESSED THIS CRuSADE. HER FACE APPEARS FOR A BRIEF MOMENT. SHE LOOKS. STRANGE. uGLY. SHE ASSuMES ANOTHER OF HER FORMS MEANT TO TORMENT HIM. A GREEN SKuLL. STAINED WITH THE SLICK LIME BLOOD SHE WAS COATED IN WHEN HE FIRST DEVOuRED HER. HIS MOuTH WATERS. HE HAS NEVER FOuND A GRuBSAuCE SO DELECTABLE AS HIS FIRST MEAL. HE LITERALLY ATE THE EGGSHELL SHE HATCHED OuT OF. FOR ADDITIONAL NuTRIENTS. THAT SAuCE WAS SO FuCKING GOOD. ONLY NOW. AT LEAST IN APPEARANCE. THE BLOOD WAS BAD. VERY VERY BAD. LEFT TO COAGuLATE. ROT. ADHERE. AND THICKEN. LIKE A KIND OF ALMOST REPTILIAN HIDE. IF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY WERE HIS LuSuS. WHAT WAS THIS? A HATCHMATE OVERREACH OF SOME KIND? SISTERLY SOBBING? BITCHING AND MOANING? uPON CLOSER INSPECTION. THE ANSWER BECAME MuCH CLEARER. LITTLE PINPRICK DRIPS OF RED. FRISKING ALONG HIS BODY. CALIBORN FINDS IT. A FRESHLY INFLICTED WOuND THAT WAS NOT THERE BEFORE. JuST ALONG HIS THORAX. THE uPPER CHIFFONIER. AS IF ANGLING FOR HIS BLOODPuSHER WITH EACH DARTED FINGER. HER WAY OF SAYING. THIS QuEST COuLD PROVE DEADLY. ALTHOuGH. CALLIE BHORNE WAS uNSuRE. EVEN CALIBORN WAS LIKE. GIRL WHAT THE FuCK IS YOu ON. THERE COuLD BE NO CERTAINTIES WHEN DEALING WITH HER. "HEH. GuESS MY HATCHMATE IS STILL LOOKING OuT FOR ME AFTER ALL THESE SWEEPS. SOME LOVE. HuH? SHE'S GOT A FuNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT." AND THEN. uNFuRLED. IS MY BLADE. READY TO BE BuRIED IN THE NECKS OF DuMBFuCKS. LOCATION: THE TRIBuNAL HALL OF SuPREME CAVORT. STOMPING GROuNDS OF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. EATING GROuNDS ALSO. THIS IS WHERE CALLIE BHORNE LIVES. BECAuSE HE IS SPECIAL. AND RAISED BY A BELOATHED BY ALL TYRANT. THE ROOM HAS COuNTLESS WEATHERED BONES SHAVED DOWN SO AS TO RESEMBLE MARBLE COLuMNS. BuT THEY ARE THICK. LIKE CEDAR WOOD TRuNKS. AND SPLINTERED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE BEATING OF ANGRY FISTS. CLAWED AND CHEWED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE CLuTCHING OF VERY DESPERATE HANDS DRAGGED OFF INTO OPEN MOuTH. AND BLOOD. SO MuCH BLOOD. THE THRONE ITSELF. HOWEVER. IS CLEAN. AN EXHIBIT ALMOST. EVIDENCE. OF TIME'S TRAGIC PASSING. A RELIC OF THE LIMES. LIKE MANY OF THE CONFISCATED LEGENDARY ITEMS HERE. THOuGH CALLIE BHORNE FANCIES HIMSELF SOMETHING OF A TROLL WITH AN EYE FOR ANTIQuES SPORTING SEASONED HISTORY BEHIND THEM. THESE ITEMS ARE ONLY ACQuIRED WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO SMuGGLE OR SELL THE ILLICIT CONTRABAND. IN FACT. WERE IT NOT FOR HIS LuSuS. AND SLAPDASH CHARM. CALLIE WOuLD CERTAINLY BE KILLED FOR HIS EXTENSIVE BEWEARABLE WARES ALONE. OWNING THESE IS ILLEGAL. BuT CONFISCATING THEM. IS JuST ANOTHER TuESDAY. OR WHATEVER THE TROLL EQuIVALENT OF A TuESDAY IS. PROBABLY CHEWSDAY. IT IS JuST ANOTHER CHEWSDAY. INTERRuPTION: HE WAS COMMuNING. WITH HIS DEAD SISTER. OR AT LEAST TRYING TO. HIS HATCHMATE IS OFT uNRELIABLE. WHICH IS A SPECIAL KIND OF ESPECIALLY HIGH uNRELIABILITY. BuT THEN. THE SESSION. OR WHATEVER EXCITING COSMIC BuLLSHIT IS RuNNING THIS GAME. DECIDED TO INTERRuPT. WITH A PORTAL. OR AN APERTuRE. OR WHATEVER WHITE GLOWING BuLLSHIT YOu PEOPLE ARE uSING. I WANT TO KEEP MY WHITENESS CONSISTENT. IF WE ARE ALL DOING A WHITE THING. I WANT TO DO THE SAME WHITE THING. OTHERWISE I WILL FEEL LEFT OuT. AND THAT WOuLD BE REALLY SHITTY OF YOu GuYS. SO MAKE MY WHITE THING BE THE SAME AS YOuR WHITE THING. HOW THE SuMMONS APPEARS: THROuGH THE THRONE. OBVIOuSLY. THE GLOWING INTENSIFIES. AND INSTEAD OF JuST SHOWING CALLIE OHPEEE. WHICH IS WHAT IT uSuALLY SHOWS. IN MIDDLING LITTLE APPARITION LIKE OuTLINES. AND DEAD SISTER MONTAGE. AND LIMITLESS PATIENCE FOR ME. HER HATCHMATE. AND MY SILLY ANTICS. IT SHOWS SOMETHING ELSE. A LAIR. OR WHATEVER. MAKE IT SOMETHING APPROPRIATE. ACTuALLY. COuLD IT BE. LIKE. A THRONE ROOM. BuT BIGGER. AND WITH MORE BODIES. OR A FIELD OF CONQuERED ENEMIES. OR A CASINO. WHERE EVERYONE IS LOSING. EXCEPT HIM. CALLIE NEVER LOSES. EH. DOC. SCRATCH THAT. CALLIE NEVER HAS LOST. BECAuSE HE REFuSES TO GIVE uP. HE ALWAYS TRIES. AND RETRIES. EVEN IN THE FACE OF ABSOLuTE SuREFIRE DEFEAT. HE WRENCHES VICTORY FROM HIS OWN JAWS. THAT IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY OF HIM. YES. SO DECIDE. A VISION THAT CALLS FOR HIM. PERHAPS. SOMEONE IN NEED? YES. THAT WOuLD BE GENIuS. CALLIE IS EXTRAORDINARILY NEEDABLE. AND WILLING TO MAKE HIS TROLLIAN CLAWS. AN OuTSTRETCHED SORT. WHAT YOu GLIMPSE: SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS POWER. AND DOMINATION. AND VICTORY. BuT ALSO. SECRETLY. SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS HIS SISTER. IN SOME ROuNDABOuT WAY. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR HIS CHARACTERIZATION. HOW YOuR LuSuS OR SuRROuNDINGS REACT: HIS LuSuS HOWLS WITH EARSPLITTING INTENSITY. HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. HuGE GROSS MONSTER. BLACK BLOOD. BRAINLESS BEASTIE. HE LETS OuT A ROAR. OR SOMETHING EQuALLY TERRIBLE. AND IT DOES NOT REACT WITH FEAR. BECAuSE IT DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. IT REACTS WITH RECOGNITION. LIKE. "OH. MY SON. CALLIE BHORNE. HAS BEEN SuMMONED FOR ANOTHER ADVENTuRE. HOW REGuLAR. AND ORDINARY. BE SuRE TO KILL AND PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZE PLENTY OF PEOPLE. MY SWEET. CHERuBICALLY CHARMING BOY." AND CALLIE BRuSHES HIS THuMB. AGAINST HIS VERY EXISTANT NOSE. AND GOES. "TSK. SHuT uP FATHER. I AM GROWN NOW. I AM NOT SOME HELPLESS LITTLE PuPA ANYMORE." AND HE GROWLS. SOMBERLY. "I KNOW. BuT WHEN I LOOK uPON MY SON. MY HERO. MY LITTLE LEGISLACERITO. I DO NOT SEE YOu AS YOu ARE. I SEE YOu. AS WHAT YOu HAVE BECOME. FROM WHAT YOu WERE. A WEIGHTED AVERAGE. SuNDERED BY MY SINKING HEART." AND HE GOES. "HMP. WHATEVER DAD. LOVEYOuTOO." AND HIS DAD SCREECHES LOuDLY. "MY SON!!!" OR MAYBE IT DOES NOT SAY ANYTHING. AND JuST. GROWLS. APPROVINGLY. WHATEVER WOuLD BE COOLER. WHAT PART OF YOu ANSWERS FIRST: NOT FEAR. HE DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. JuST LIKE HIS FATHER. HE FEELS ANTICIPATION. THE PART THAT WANTS TO CONQuER. THE PART THAT WANTS TO DEVOuR. THE PART THAT LOOKS AT A MYSTERIOuS PORTAL AND THINKS. "YES. MORE uNSETTLED SCORES. AND WRONGS TO RIGHT." OR POSSIBLY. THE PART THAT HEARS HIS SISTER. WHISPERING. FROM THE THRONE. SAYING. "DONT GO. YOu IDIOT. ITS A TRAP. A DEADLY FuCKING TRAP." BuT HE IGNORES HER. BECAuSE HE IS THE PALADIN. NOT THE PALADIN'T. YOuR FINAL ACTION: CALLIE. DOES NOT. uNDER ANY CIRCuMSTANCES. SHOW HESITATION. HESITATION IS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT CALLIE BHORNE. AND THEREFORE. NOT ME. BECAuSE I MADE HIM. AND I AM ALSO NEVER HESITANT. EXCEPT WHEN I AM. WHICH IS NEVER. ALTHOuGH. THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME. BuT I WAS MERELY. READYING AN ATTACK. AN ASSBLAST ATTACK THAT PROVED FATAL. FOR MY ENEMIES. SO IT IS LESS A HESITATION. AND MORE A READYING POSE. WHICH IS WHAT HE STRIKES. BEFORE SAYING SOMETHING REALLY FuCKING COOL. LIKE. "...WELL WELL WELL. IS THIS THE PART. WHERE I TOSS IN A QuARTER AND MAKE A WISH?" OR. "THE THRONE BECKONS. QuIT YOuR BITCHING. I'M LITERALLY COMING RIGHT NOW." OR. "CALLIE OHPEEE. WATCH OVER FATHER FOR ME WHILE I AM GONE. OKAY?" OR JuST. "...CONQuEST CALLS." WHATEVER HE SAYS. PROBABLY ALL OF THESE THINGS. HE IS NOT NICE. HE IS GRIZZLED AND EDGY. HE ATE HIS SISTER AND REGRETS NOTHING EXCEPT THAT HE COuLD NOT EAT HER TWICE. HE IS A MONSTER. AND HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER. BECAuSE HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO uNDERSTANDS ME.

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Gygaax Bhildr

1 month ago

Ashen One

This user vacillates ashen gray.

Pitch One

This user vacillates pitch black.

Pale One

This user vacillates pale pink.

Flushed One

This user vacillates flushed red.

@tautologicalTechnique[TT]

『ADVENTERROR'S FIELD GUIDE - PORTED FROM SWATTPAD @tautologicalTechnique 』 『 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: DUBCON PALE, CRINGE CULTURE, META FICTION, SELF INSERT, PLATONIC PALING, GAMING ADJACENT, AUTHORIAL INSERT, SPECIES BENDING, SECOND PERSON PERSPECTIVE, YCH, Y/C, UNREALITY, TOUCHING, SPORADIC PALE RUBBING, PALE AFFECTION, POLYQUANDARY (CONSENTED), GYGAAX X EVERYONE, YES THAT EVEN MEANS Y/C』 GYGAAX x KRYQUS // PALESHIPPING // FRIENDFICTION // CAVERNS 'N CULLBEASTS CAMPAIGN // SFW // MOIRAIL MULTICLASS // BOUND BY THE BOUND BOOK // @naughtyTechnician // @zebraDad ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < AUTHOR'S NOTE...mmffmm. Sorry for the delay this chapter!!! One of my moirails of four sweeps got caught up in a particularly nasty encounter with a Cullbeast of Unreasonable Hit Dice! Oh noooo!!! Somebody's gonna be out of combat fer more than one short rest!!! But...onto the fic!!! ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); < The Caverns 'n Cullbeasts session shoulda wrapped hours ago...what in tarnation were the lot of 'em still doin' here...? These two ain't had grounds t'yammer 'n yap beyond stats 'n th'doling out 'o treasures accumulated...'n that took place hours ago!!! It took only a scant few moments more fer it t'really click with KRYQUS what this was even about...'n the thought still got dismissed with chudly indifference. Sensation overrode sensibility somethin' sorely suggestive...somethin' deeper...somethin'... ᴗ(ᴗᏊᄒꈊᄒᏊ) < Pale. ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < KRYQUS's trembling hands passed over the character sheet in metered measures...examining for errors, miscalculations, even just a rounding error in carry weight that could set his party back some...He was always like this. Thinkin' 'o others in tiny, invisible ways that made 'm irresistible to anyone with eyes 'n the time t'use 'em. Y/C can't help but buckle back a little as KRYQUS suddenly seizes Y/C's pencil 'n tugs it forward tighter than a nat twenty on an athletics check that he'd piledrive into th'enemy's inferior armor class...the clamp continued, as he started to...sink to ganderglobe level. The EMINENT INDIGOD OF INDIGOCELS who once towered like a one troll rovin' rules lawyer on hoofback now ain't no more than a troll, his imposing sourcebooks gone from a monument to a frame. ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < my character died ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < damn ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < toooo bad the same cannoot be said of climate change or casteism or peoople who talk shit and doont get hit ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < oor any oof the woorlds oother many wooes ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < but i can oonly doo ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < soo much ✧( Ꮚ─_ ─Ꮚ) < as a fat fuckin chud of hooned discipline ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < eventually ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < woorlds gootta save itself ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < oor perish unwoorthy ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < KRYQUS becomes a livin' study in humility. His words underpin the lessons endowed to him by ZEBRADAD. A lodestar. A northern light. The honing beacon 'o morality and th'straight 'n narrow. But his actions. His nonchalance. His utter unquestionably sheer un-fuck-withable energy...this becomes the mantle 'o kingly might he assumes at all times. This becomes th'monarchic tradition passed down from KRYQUS to KRYQUS every few hundred sweeps, so long as he's still around. ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> JUST LIKE Y/C wouldn't all that mind bein'!!!!! EH? EH? EH? #FOREVERANDEVER #BUTACTUALLY #YCxKRYQUS #YOU+GOT+ZEBRADADS+BLESSING (ᗜᏊಠꈊಠᏊ)¤=[]:::::> Y/C felt inclined t'dispense comfort. There was a possessiveness t'the way Y/C saw KRYQUS cradle the character sheet in his palms. His broad shoulders cinched up like he dreaded th'thought of loosenin' a grip on this concept fer even a moment...but he put on a brave face just fer you. It wouldn't be right t'just let his happiness slip away. And read between the lines a daggum minute, world's gotta save itself or perish unworthy? That's QUITTER TALK! GLOBAL QUITTER TALK! DOOMSDAY QUITTER TALK! Kryqus feels THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD on his bulky sturdy rock steady shoulders right now! ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < Just as Y/C up 'n worked th'courage t'confront his hands, improperly conspirin' t'mount a charge across yer thigh...Kryqus scoffs in indignation. He sees through yer transparent advances...and retreats strategically. All prompt-like. ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < tsk ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < doont attempt to knoow me ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < im way toooo cooool foor yoou ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < and even if i didnt mean that ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < yoou proobably shoouldnt @ me irl ᴗ(ᴗᏊᄒꈊᄒᏊ) < Uh oh! That got outta hand way fast...maybe it's time t'call fer... ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> REINFORCEMENTS!!!!!!! ᴗ(ᴗᏊ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> My -- I mean Gygaax's hands start t'alternate between (#polyquandary anyone???) petting the tops 'o both 'o yer heads...!!! Soft. Rhythmic little circles. My --- Gygaax's cartilage nubs unfurl from the tightly white knuckled meat mallet into a far more approachable set 'o chitinous diggers with a piercingly pale quality...!!! Both Y/C and KRYQUS are treated t'the soft enmeshed interplay 'o palmin' play 'n no strings attached emotional intervention...c-consensually! We can stop at any time. Y/C j...just could use this! A-as could KRYQUS. To uh. CAVERNS 'N CULLBEASTS t'gether... ( Ꮚ‾̀ꈊ ‾̀Ꮚ); < "...Now, KRYQUS," Gygaax began, "Ewe can't be so harsh on Y/C...they've been through a lot. For our sake. For the CAMPAIGN. If anything were to happen to them...it would be on us to see to it they're protected and retrieved. Same as any PARTY MEMBER. Gentler hands should stir these waters. A SHEPHURT should tend 'n mend to its flock." If the two hands mussyin' up Y/C's body in tandem with KRYQUS wasn't BAaaaaaaAAAAAAd enough...a rovin' set of author-emblazoned fingertips were caressin' th'top of yer horns now. Pickin' out stray imaginary somethin somethins. Stalling. ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < Suddenly, the rush of hot breath excites the air...populates it with the powerful gale phrasings of KRYQUS... ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < gygaax ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < what the actual fuck ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < are yoou trying to say i proovide subpar care to Y/C ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i literally carried this campaign ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < coomplaintlessly ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < Y/C with it ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i resent the fuck oout of that implication ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i coould easily be gentler with this ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < weaving lazy river ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < if i wanted to ( Ꮚ‾̀ꈊ ‾̀Ꮚ); < GYGAAX laughed. "Ewe could stand to be, KRYQUS. Yes. Just LOOK at Y/C. How can ewe say even a single solitary mean thing about that there cutie patootie?!" Tuggin' yer face into an awaitin' set 'o authorial brasserie, th'royal menagerie incidentally pits ya right in line with a EMINENT INDIGOD OF INDIGOCELS'S dice bag as th'aforementioned storms back onto his feet, now a monolith again. KRYQUS approaches our hug slowly. But not neverly. His arms hover over you. The river is still. Th'air itself thickens and compresses about yer skull, 'n horns, hardly blanketed by th'hoofbeast-scented torso cheekily just behind yonder... ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < what fucking ever ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < here yoou go lil guy ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < lap it up ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < <> ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < GYGAAX's hands tug around ya like a vanguard against harm. KRYQUS goes back t'bein his usual self...a monument of offended pride...he hugs you. And. Uh oh!!! Y/C feels a scraping sensation...nails possessively curled about one side 'o yer head, just at the barest nuggatory base of the horns (so embarassin'n!!!) and tracin' back towards th'scalp...no matter where ya look...t'KRYQUS or t'GYGAAX...both are complicit!!! A boilin' sort 'o affection wellin' up with intent t'pale, RIGHT ON TOP OF Y/C!!!!! (P1/P??) #SWATTPAD #Vacillation #PaleMoirail #TheWholeParty #FullCampaign #NotEnoughInventorySpace #SFW #YouAreOverencumbered!!! #XReader #FriendFiction #CnC #CavernsAndCullbeasts #KRYQUS #ImpliedAU #GYGAAXxKRYQUS #PALEMULTICLASS #AdventerrorsFieldGuide #CrossPosting #ScrawlThoughts #Drabbles #DubconPale #Polyquandary #TeamChud #GygaaxXEveryone #Palewhoring