(ID: several monochrome purple digital drawings of jon and martin from the magnus archives. top left: martin looking off to the side, shirtless and wearing a bra. top right: jon sitting in martins lap and kissing him, their arms around each other. bottom right: martin laying on top of jon, both looking at each other fondly. bottom left: martin scoots up to kiss jon, jon wrapping their arms around him.
jon is a thin persian person with long graying dark hair and several scars. martin is a fat black and filipino man with freckles, curly hair, and vitiligo dotting his face and hands. they are both shirtless and in their boxers.)
combat specs/reference for the protagonist! finally done…i probably should have done this first. anyway, enjoy this infographic abt cold war witch lady and how her powers work.
Baroness Lubinska who presided over the famous duel between Princess Pauline Metternich and the Countess Kielmannsegg in 1892, insisted that the duelists remove their clothing above their waists to avoid infection in the event that a sword pushed clothing into the wound it caused. Being a doctor, the baroness had seen many instances of septic infection in soldiers for this very reason throughout her years of medical training.
“The cause of the duel is reputed to be an argument over arrangements for the Vienna Musical and Theatrical Exhibition.” - I like these ladies.
I arrive at the duel
sword: sharpened
sepsis: prevented
tits: out
I AM FORCIBLY EJECTED FROM THE VIENNA MUSICAL AND THEATRICAL EXHIBITION
※ Authorized Reprint for Tumblr || artist: 黑色萬寳路||@poru_BM ☑ Do not remove source link || edit illustration|| change caption|| upload to other websites!☑Before repost someone’s art, be sure you have asked an artist’s permission!
Morning after, Revised! Finally had some time to go back in and work this piece further, since I wasn’t 100% happy with how it turned out last time.
I think the difference is mostly in style and tone, sacrificing softness for a stronger presence. In any case, this is why I took down my header pic for a day :P. Should be back up though! I also added a stove for everyone who was like “how is that guy frying eggs” lol
CW: Bruises, partial nudity, stress position, put on display
The past week and a half had been hell for Shea. Without his father to reign him in, Nicholas had become a terror. Shea had sort of anticipated it, but the sheer level of brutality had been… unexpected to say the least.
“Shea.” Nicholas threw open the door to Shea’s room. “Come out.”
“Yes, sir.” Shea obeyed quickly, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
“Take off your shirt.”
“Sir..?” Confused, Shea’s expression faltered.
“Are you questioning me?” Nicholas leaned back against a wall.
“N-no, sir.” Shea removed his shirt, revealing the mottled purples, greens, and yellows covering his body.
“Give it here.”
Shea handed his shirt over to Nicholas, who tossed it aside.
“Follow me.”
Shea followed Nicholas down the hall into the sitting room— a room with which he was well familiar. He was not familiar, however, with the new fixture in the center of the floor.
Mounted in the floor, there were three rings, distanced from eachother, with three chains attached to the rings. The chains were of three different lengths.
Nicholas grabbed Shea by the hair and pulled him over to the rings, pushing him down to kneel between them. “Fold your wings.”
Shea did.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Shea heard Nicholas open a drawer and remove something metal. Soon, he felt steel cuffs close over his wrists, followed by similar cuffs around his ankles. Nicholas attached the chains from two of the rings to each of these cuffs before crouching in front of Shea.
“Look at me.”
Shea raised his eyes and saw that Nicholas held a collar, which he placed around Shea’s neck. He didn’t know what he had done to warrant this punishment, but he knew better than to ask. Nicholas pulled the collar downwards and attached the short length of remaining chain to the collar.
In the end, Shea had to strain forwards to keep from hurting his neck. The chains on his wrists gave no slack.
“I’m having company over in about half an hour.” Nicholas said, standing. “My father kept you for the visual appeal and for the mark of status you show. He didn’t take advantage of it often enough.”
—
By the time a half an hour passed and guests started to file into the sitting room, Shea’s muscles were burning. The guests ignored him as they entered the room, saying hello to Nicholas and the other guests.
After another half an hour it was getting difficult for Shea to breathe.
Shea squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the conversation turn to him— people remarking about his wings and asking questions about his behaviors.
“Well, he’s not particularly well behaved.” Nicholas said at one point. “My father treated him too well— like a human, really. Not like the disobedient animal that he is. We’re dealing with his disrespect now, though.”
Shea gasped and bit back a yell as Nicholas pressed hard on a particularly bad bruise.
“Shut up.”
“Y-yes, sir…” Shea breathed. He could still feel the pain radiating outward from the bruise. He heard a few more sets of footsteps approach him.
“May I?” Said a new voice— one that Shea only vaguely recognized.
Nicholas didn’t give a verbal answer, but Shea guessed he must have either nodded or shrugged because this new person pressed their hand down Shea’s bruised arm, eliciting a whimper from Shea.
Nicholas pulled Shea’s hair, forcing him to look up as much as he could, straining his neck, spine, and arms. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
Only a few minutes later, the group left the sitting room. As soon as they were gone, Shea started to cry. He couldn’t help it. He knew Nicholas could be back at any moment, but it hurt. And it was unnecessary.
The thought occurred to Shea that Nicholas might be jealous or upset by the words his father had spoken to Shea… Was this all out of anger?
Hours passed. Shea was shaking from the effort of holding his position for so long. The floor beneath his face was damp from both tears and sweat when the door again opened.
Shea braced himself.
But it wasn’t Nicholas. It was someone else. A voice that he had never heard before.
“Hey.” The person knelt next to Shea and immediately unclipped all three chains. It took less than ten seconds and Shea felt the relief in his arms and back instantly. “Are you okay?”
“What are you doing?” Shea whispered, his face going pale.
“Do you know where the keys for the cuffs are?”
“Don't— I mean— I— N-no, I don’t. Please put the chains back, sir…” Shea bowed his face to the ground, trying to resist stretching. Was this a test?
“Put them back? Why??”
“Master Nicholas— h-he’ll be livid… please don’t take them off…”
A hand brushed against Shea’s cheek and he flinched, but the contact was gentle. The hand gently guided Shea’s face up to look at the man who had released him from the chains. Shea avoided eye contact, but the person searched his face intently.
“I want to get you out of here.” The man said.
Shea hesitated, unsure of what he was supposed to say. “… Please put the chains back, sir…”
“Just look at yourself…” The stranger’s voice was gentle. “You’re bruised everywhere. I can tell your nose is broken. Please just come with me? You never have to see Nicholas again.”
“I-I could never— you— please forgive me— you don’t understand. I belong to Nicholas. Even if… even if I don’t like the way he treats me, I have to stay.”
The man let go of Shea’s face, reluctant. “… You really want me to put the chains back?”
Shea nodded, letting his face fall back to face the ground.
The man replaced the chains and traced a finger across a line of bruises on Shea’s back. “Sorry.” He said, pulling his hand away abruptly. “What’s your name?” He asked.
“Sh-Shea…” Shea was already trembling again from the strain.
“Shea? I’m Killian. And… I’m going to find a way to take you away from Nicholas.”
Shea discarded the promise and forgot it before Killian even left the room.
