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ash-rigby · 4 months

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Between the Flowers (Female Plantfolk) [M/F/F]

Featured characters: A male human and two plantfolk women. All are adults.

Description: A week after leaving the area inhabited by Solveig the Silent, Caelan stops to set up camp for the day and comes across two plant women fucking in the woods. His intention is a quick peek, but he is caught and these women have a unique method of punishment. Contains: Femdom, Heavy Degradation, Light Vine Bondage, Aphrodisiacs, Fellatio, Anal Play (on a male character), Nipple Play, Edging, Overstimulation, Brief Creampie Eating, Plant Genitals.

Completion Date: December 27th, 2023

Word Count: 5508

Note: This story is technically a continuation of Solveig’s Lair, but it’s not essential to read it before this one. Its events are briefly referenced and it otherwise has nothing to do with this one besides featuring the same human. Caelan just keeps running into monster ladies that want to bully and fuck him.

Caelan stopped and set up camp much earlier than usual that day. Sometimes the days-long treks between towns wore on him; plodding down the path on his horse, becoming accustomed to having a sore ass, and only rarely seeing another person. There were times when it was nicer to pick out a quiet spot and disregard any responsibility for the day.

It was around an hour after midday when he dismounted Bandit and led her off the road and into the woods. There was a flat, relatively clear space a little way in where he chose to settle. He relieved Bandit of her saddle and his gear, letting her roam untied; even when spooked, he could always trust her to return to him. She set about feeding on the grass, her dark brown coat dappled by the sun streaking through the leaves above.

Caelan set up his tent and readied a small fire pit for when the night’s chill arrived. He relaxed at the base of an old oak, heaving a contented sigh before lighting his pipe. An aromatic scent surrounded him as he indulged. He sent a few smoke rings up into the canopy, watching them lazily waver and dissipate as his thoughts wandered.

They landed on Solveig of all things; that beguiling, insatiable beast. It had been a little over a week since Caelan left the area she inhabited. Mainly because of her, he spent more time there than he originally intended. She made for more than interesting company. He visited her many times after that first sensual encounter, sometimes winning her lewd game and other times losing. But he had departed on an intensely satisfying victory.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his prize. The polished coin glinted in his hand. It was of an ancient, outdated currency and he probably could have sold it for a hefty sum. But he elected to keep it as a memento. Solveig had taken exceptional care of it for so long and part of him detested the thought of it gathering dust in someone’s collection. As he danced it across his fingers, nature called.

Caelan snuffed his pipe and stood, dusting the dirt from his backside. He turned to his horse before stepping out into the woods.

“If anyone tries to make off with my shit, you kick their knees backwards, alright?” he told her.

Bandit snorted loudly against the ground. He imitated the sound back to her and chuckled.

“Good girl.”

Caelan walked a long way out, not wanting to piss anywhere near his campsite, and did his business against a tree. He was set to return when he began to hear noises. They were strange in this setting, but not unfamiliar in the slightest; distinct moans of pleasure. The realization rooted him to the spot. Who would be out here fucking in the middle of nowhere?

He knew he should ignore them. Leave whoever was to their private passions. But he ultimately followed his curiosity—and his dick—in their direction.

Mentally cursing himself the entire way, Caelan stepped lightly through the grass. Just for a little bit, he thought. Enough to make some memories to use later. The voice grew louder as he approached. He hoped that those amorous sounds and the distraction of the acts causing them would make certain he wasn’t found out. He kept his ears strained but still startled a bit when there was movement in his peripheral.

Caelan ducked behind a tree, heart pounding with equal parts shame and excitement. He poked out his head and sucked in a breath at what he saw. About thirty feet away, standing at the foot of a wide trunk, was a young woman; not human.

She had rich, green skin and white hair that had a tinge of yellow and fell about her shoulders. On either side of her head were two large, golden flowers. From their centers grew long tendrils that cascaded down her back, their ends reaching her mid-calf.

Kneeling in front of her was another plant-like woman. It was harder to make out her features, but she was pear-coloured. Large, wide leaves made up her shorter hair; slightly darker than her skin and fading to reddish-pink towards the tips. She was licking at her partner’s pussy and doing a good job of it if the moans she was garnering said anything.

“Mmm! Fuck, Priscilla!”

Caelan watched on, transfixed. He could see Priscilla’s arm moving, certainly touching herself. She had a plump, round ass and his mind was swiftly filled with images of the way it might bounce with a rough pounding. Heat began to pool in his groin.

They were both so damn gorgeous.

The first woman’s moans and whimpers had raised to a higher pitch. Her hips rocked against Priscilla’s face, one hand buried in her partner’s leafy hair while the other teased her own breast. She fondled the whole of it, trapping her nipple between two fingers so she could simultaneously roll and tug at it.

The quick look Caelan intended turned to minutes. His cock had started twitching insistently. No, I can’t go that far, he told his wavering resolve. He wasn’t some dirty voyeur lurking in the shadows. But then why couldn’t he tear his eyes away? Why couldn’t he move? The impatient throbbing was getting harder to ignore.

Breath and pulse quickening, Caelan gripped himself over his pants. I’m fucking disgusting, he thought. He sucked in his lower lip against a hiss, gently stroking the shaft with his thumb. It took the edge off but he ached to bury himself in someone. To sink into the warmth of a lust-swollen cunt. He was holding back a moan when he became aware of something wrapping around his ankles.

Before he could properly process it, his feet were yanked out from under him. He was sent crashing to the forest floor. A breath left him in a pained yelp before he was dragged a long distance across the grass and dirt. He cried out as his world shifted jarringly and he was hoisted into the air, all too suddenly hanging upside down between the two women.

“Caught you!” came a sing-song voice.

It had come from the darker-skinned figure in front of him—whose face he was level with. Her eyes were strange; a vibrant, otherworldly green with three dark pupils in each iris laid out in a petal-like array at the center. There was no anger in her tone. More like Caelan had been found out in a game of Cheat.

“Shit, I am so sorry, ladies. I—,” he began.

“Ladies, he says,” scoffed Priscilla from his side. “If you’re looking for prim and proper, you’re sure as Hell not gonna find it here.”

The other woman giggled. “You found Polly and Priscilla instead.”

“And we’re far from the road, so let’s not bother with the ‘just passing by’ excuse, okay?” Priscilla said.

Caelan’s face was hot. And not just from his hanging position. He was wracking his mind for any sort of explanation, but he really had none. Polly’s hands cupped his cheeks, turning his head this way and that as she grinned.

“Aw, he’s cute though. Look at him blushing!” she said. Caelan felt another of whatever was holding his feet snaking down his leg. He gasped as a light, exploratory touch found his clothed erection, teasing up and down the length. “Mmm, and he’s hard.”

“He would be,” Priscilla said. “Didn’t even take it out. You into cumming in your pants, pretty boy?”

Caelan tried to speak, stuttering over every syllable that tried to exit his lips. Arousal and mortification warred in him; though he found they were one and the same. He couldn’t help feeling like their toy as they likely saw him. He shut his mouth and said nothing, deciding to act like it and see where it got him.

Priscilla chuckled. “Flip him around, Polly. His dick will make better use of that blood than his head.”

The change was a relief. A rush came over Caelan as he was situated upright. The tendrils held him, their movements elaborate as they managed to also get him out of his shirt without losing their grip on him. He looked up at them. They were thick, green vines with faintly glowing markings. He had seen similar marks on Polly’s shoulders glowing before he had felt the vines move; she was the one controlling them.

Caelan felt more than a little stupid, thinking that he had been well hidden. And then he was so preoccupied by his dick that he hadn’t heard the vines slithering at him through the bush. Now he was left standing, arms and hands tied above his head, awaiting—eagerly—to be put in his place.

He got a better look at Priscilla, mouth going dry at the revelation of how much taller she was than him; he was head-height to her substantial chest. The leaves on her head obscured her eyes. Her mouth seemed just slightly too wide for her face and as she laughed once more, laving a long over her bottom lip, he could see it was filled with deadly fangs. She moved behind him as Polly pressed up against his front, hands resting on his chest.

A scent came to him then, thick and sweet. Its effect was pleasant; warmth swimming in his head and travelling down his body. Something about it had his cock straining against his pants and throbbing madly. The flowers on Polly’s head, which upon closer inspection seemed alive beyond what was usual for flora, had parted further and begun twitching. The likely culprits.

Polly looked up at Caelan with those wide, odd eyes of hers. The tendrils originating from her golden petals moved. They tickled his ribcage before finding his belt buckle. His pants loosened and fell about his ankles, leaving his nearly-full cock to bob up into the air. It was quickly wrapped up in thin bindings that stroked his length.

Caelan panted, a pathetic whine escaping him as the tendrils teased the sensitive head and slit. He swayed a bit where he stood, but then Priscilla came up to his back, her breasts against his neck. Tied and sandwiched, he was completely at their mercy.

The tendrils upped their pace and Polly mouthed at his neck. He thought for a moment that this might be his punishment; cumming without the privilege of ever getting to be inside either of them. Maybe made to lick up his cum from the dirt like a dog. It’s what he deserved. But the tendrils released him.

Polly slowly kneeled, palms dragging down Caelan’s heaving chest and stomach as she went. Her eyes, sparkling above a devious grin, never left his.

“Please…more,” he begged.

A hand reached under his raised arm and found his throat; not squeezing enough to cut off his air but his chin tilted upwards instinctively as he sharply gasped.

“And where was that ‘pretty please’ earlier, hm?” Priscilla said, voice low and falsely saccharine. “That’s all you needed to come and say instead of spying.”

“Maybe he likes being a pervert, Scissy,” Polly said. Her breath ghosted over Caelan’s dick as she spoke. Warm and delicate like gossamer threads. He shivered.

“N-no,” he tried to refute, cut off by a moan as he felt the head of his cock being enveloped by Polly’s mouth.

“You really want her to stop?” Priscilla asked.

Caelan had been sorely misunderstood. “Fu-fuck, no.”

Polly teased, only sucking onto the tip while her hand slowly pumped the rest of his length. He wanted to go deeper; she seemed the type to be able to take it all. But a single, shallow thrust of his hips had them suddenly bound with vines. Everything stopped, the soft lips around his cock pulling off. He whimpered mournfully.

“Nuh-uh,” Polly chided with a quick slap to his thigh. “Who said you could do that? Be good.”

“I will,” Caelan said, hyper-aware of every heavy throb of his dick in this pause. “Sor—sorry.”

Polly continued pumping him, her tongue gently licking the underside of his head. Her tendrils caressed his thighs and balls. Slow strokes, light touches; still enough to have him seeing stars. He moaned, eyes fixed on the tree branches above and swallowing against the hand on his neck. It gave his throat a brief squeeze before joining the other in finding his pecs.

“Nice tits,” Priscilla said, derisive as she fondled and squeezed; long, dexterous fingers going for his nipples.

She lightly thumbed at them. Then rolled them between the soft, warm pads of her fingertips. Caelan hissed when she would surprise him by flicking or tugging at one of them, pleasure jolting from his chest to the end of his cock. He was sweating, finding himself unconsciously arching into Priscilla’s touch. She stopped, leaving his hard nipples feeling used as she dragged her nails over his abdomen.

Caelan felt her move, not sure what she was doing until her hands were on his backside. She gripped the meat of his ass and spread him open. A shiver ran up his spine as he was exposed. He gasped at the feeling of a puff of warm air against his hole, followed by impish laughter.

“We’ve got him twitching back here, Polly,” Priscilla said, fingers digging into his flesh. “Think he’s the type who likes it in the ass.”

Polly retracted her tongue for only as long as it took her to speak. “Ooo, lucky! It’d be so rude not to indulge him.”

“I want to hear it from our little pervert first.”

Caelan’s heart pounded, his face and ears burning hot as his head spun. “Wha—? Ahhh.”

“Should I give this nasty hole what it wants?”

“Yes.”

“Details, boy,” Priscilla ordered sharply. “Spare. None.”

“P-play with my ass,” Caelan said. He groaned as Polly took the leaking head of his cock back into her mouth. “Fingers…t-tongue…god, whatever you want. I’ll take anything—mmm, fuck! I love it. I love it so much. Please!”

Priscilla gave an appreciative growl. “There’s a good boy.”

Caelan felt her tongue on his hole moments later. She licked at him, making him drip with her saliva. The tip ran around his quivering rim and dipped shallowly inside. It was a nearly unbearable tease. His mind fixated on the memory of how long that tongue was and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, holding back his begging to be fully filled.

Instead, he moaned, feeling incapable of coherent speech even if he wanted to give in. They were keeping him on the edge, just enough pleasure to have him raging and wanting but far from release; wet clay in their hands. He looked down at Polly, her gaze locked onto him. Her petals twitched, almost erotically, sending that pleasing scent dancing around them.

Priscilla gave a slurred, muffled chuckle against his ass and pushed in deeper. He thought she might torture him with small increments but she kept going—long past a regular tongue’s length. His legs shook as it squirmed its way against the tight walls of his hole. It felt filthier than a finger or cock would ever come close to but he reveled in the unique way it twisted and writhed, trailing slick saliva to his deepest parts.

The tongue reached that sweet spot inside him and his vision briefly whited. He let out a loud yelp of a moan as he squeezed onto it. A triumphant hum vibrated the muscle and Priscilla began to thrust it into him, aiming for his prostate. His insides grew hot and accommodating the more they were prodded, ecstasy sending his toes curling in his boots.

Polly’s hand slipped away from his dick and, apparently not to be outdone, she started to take the whole of him into her mouth. It was heaven. The softness of her tongue as it glided over the underside of his shaft. His voice wavered as he felt himself penetrate her throat; no gag reflex, no resistance. Her nose met coarse hair where she stayed for a moment before bobbing her head in long, slow strokes.

“Fuck…shit,” he hissed.

Receiving pleasure at both ends was driving Caelan wild. He could feel his cock leak into Polly’s throat with every nudge against that bundle of nerves in his ass. His shaft, full and straining, throbbed with desire; the need to burst. Breathing hard, he tried to focus. This would not so quickly be his undoing. He was already humiliated enough. But even without communicating, these women knew to begin upping their pace in tandem.

Priscilla was no longer giving his prostate a break, barely off it for a second at a time. His ass quivered and clenched but it didn’t deter her. She kept up a mercilessly quick thrust, her tongue shifting with lewd, wet noises. Copious spit dribbled from his hole and down the backs of his thighs.

Polly practically swallowed his cock. She slammed it into her throat over and over. His tip would be squeezed by the tighter space, released, and forced back in again.

Caelan’s head lolled against his bicep. His mouth was dry, open on moans that rode on panting breaths. Something about this was destroying the stamina he had built to best Solveig. Perhaps it was the flower’s scent hanging in the air. His dizzy mind couldn’t place it. All he knew was the pleasure surging in him beyond his control.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried. “I’m close, I’m close! I’ll cu—I’m gonna cum!”

Priscilla and Polly stopped, pulling off his cock and out of his ass. Caelan couldn’t stop the loud, pitiful keen that quavered from his lips. He breathed hard; his torso swaying, boots kicking at the dirt, his dick twitching and weeping in the open air. His eyes burned but he blinked defiantly; he couldn’t believe they almost had him crying.

“Oops, we can’t have that just yet,” Polly teased, standing and brushing a feather-light touch across his stomach. Even that was enough to make him throb in this state.

“P-please,” Caelan begged. “Please let me—I can’t take—I need—.”

Priscilla gripped his jaw from behind. “Quiet, boy. You’ll get what you fucking want.”

He pressed his lips together, feeling their traitorous trembling.

“But,” Priscilla continued as she released him, her breath hot on his ear. Sweetness clung to her tone like syrup. “Like before, you’ll have to ask nicely. We’re going to let you spill that dirty, peeping tom seed of yours inside us. Be grateful and beg for it.”

Caelan swallowed, heart racing.

“I…I want—ahh!”

He was interrupted as Priscilla reached around and began swiftly stroking his cock. As he nearly came again, she stopped.

“Didn’t catch that, sweetheart,” she said.

Caelan caught his breath. “Please—I want t—oooh, gods!”

He was teased to the edge and then pulled back.

“Speak up.”

It went on for an agonizingly long time. Caelan tried to voice his desire. Priscila’s request of him. But he would get a varying number of shaky, desperate words in before he was stroked mute beyond pleasured cries and had to start over. He lost count. His cock raged in her hand; flushed dark, veins popping. Finally, he spoke quickly enough, frustrated and tearful.

“I want to cum inside you! I need your pussy. Let me cum! Please, please, please, let me cum inside!”

“There…not so hard, was it?” Priscilla asked, cloying.

Polly giggled. “He makes such stupid faces when he’s all blissed. I can’t wait to see more!”

Caelan tried to glare but he doubted it came across. The vines manhandled him once more, ridding him fully of his pants and laying him out beneath the tree. As before, they kept his hands above his head. They also wove about his ankles to tie them down. His hips were once again immobilized. He looked down at his body, seeing his cock straining away from his body, eager for the hole he had earned.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Polly standing above, hands on her hips and smirking down at him. His eyes roamed down her body. It was the first real look he had gotten between her legs. He blinked at the sight, though he should have expected it. White petals flared out and pressed into her thighs. At the center of them, which faded to a delicate pink, was some mid-point between floral and what he was used to; he could see folds and a clit amid the shapes.

Priscilla stepped up beside her, giving a similar reveal.

“Talk about stopping to smell the roses, eh?” she said.

Caelan could see fluid dripping off both their petals. For all the—albeit sexy—shit they had put him through, it had clearly excited them more than they would verbally admit to him.

Polly lowered herself, straddling Caelan’s thighs. She took his cock in her hand and thumbed the leaking tip. He shivered. Hold it together, he told himself, distantly mortified at the thought of cumming all over her when his prize was so close.

“Excitable thing,” she said. “So twitchy and wet. Adorably pathetic.”

Caelan throbbed at the word and she laughed, situating herself so she could line his dick up to her hole. He expected more teasing but within seconds his tip was breaching her. Inch by inch, she sank down until she was sitting snugly on his hips.

His breath caught. She felt incredible inside; the walls of her cunt felt like they were covered in thousands of small, independently moving cilia that were already caressing his shaft.

He was dying for her to move. The words got stuck in his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to beg for that.

Polly started to grind down. Her movements were short, keeping him nestled deep inside her. She was only a few thrusts in when a hairline crack showed in that smug exterior she had been keeping up.

The smirk quivered. “You’re…big. I knew you were from how far I got you in my throat, but…wow.”

Priscilla knelt down, reaching out and gripping Polly’s hair by the base of her skull and making her whimper.

“No way was I letting him get those first pretty little noises out of you,” she said.

“Mmm…Scissy.”

They kissed as Polly rode him, deep and messy. Priscilla busied her hands; one arm wrapped around Polly’s back to tease her nipple and the other in front at her clit. It made her twitch around him even more, moans muffled in Priscilla’s mouth.

Caelan lay there, staring at the arousing display as his buried, aching cock furiously pulsated. Everything had slowed down and he found himself panting and loudly groaning after being denied for so long. All he could think about was the satisfaction of feeling thick cum pumping out of him; exploding, filling. He wanted to flood her.

Any part of him that wasn’t tied down quivered and shifted, his head lolling between his shoulders. He grunted like a beast and if he started drooling, he didn’t admit it later. Priscilla pulled away from Polly’s lips to give him a sideways glance and a sly look.

She scoffed. “Noisy bastard.”

Caelan whined as she returned to Polly, less from the insult and more from his burning need to thrust. To take control, fuck her hard, and not care if he came when they didn’t want him to anymore. He would accept the ridicule—any punishment. They could parade him naked on a leash through the nearest village for all he cared.

He needed to cum or something might have just broken in him.

Polly began to bob on him a little harder, the breast not caught by Priscilla’s hand bouncing with her. The walls of her hot, sopping cunt squeezed his cock. He could feel her dripping down his balls. The cilia upped their pace as well and squirmed fiercely like tiny tongues, tasting every inch of him.

Caelan didn’t bother giving them a warning at the risk of being refused again; damn the consequences. He tossed his head back and moaned, feeling the first of those deep, rhythmic throbs overtaking him. Warmth rose through his shaft and burst from his tip. That building, roiling pressure released. All he knew was relief and intense pleasure; pump after copious pump.

Polly moaned. “Ohhh, he’s cumming. He’s—ahh, there’s so much. He won’t stop. It feels—it feel—Scissy, I’m gonna cum. He’s making me cum—ahh!”

She paused on top of him, coming apart and held up only by Priscilla. The rich green of her sweat-glistening skin looked all the more vibrant somehow. Even the flowers upon her head had taken up an orgasmic throb. She quivered and came apart, Caelan’s cock pressed deep inside of her spasming pussy. It clenched around him, milking out his last few spurts with its wild twitching as the cilia seemed to clamp onto him.

“Good girl,” Priscilla praised, running her hand down Polly’s trembling side. “You might have gotten a punishment if you came before this little rat.”

“Aww,” Polly whined. Her words were laced with erotic breathing. “Can I have it anyway?”

“Maybe.” Priscilla paused, looking down at Caelan. “When we’re done here.”

Caelan swallowed. “Wh-?”

Polly pulled off of him. He gasped at the sudden sensation of sliding out of her coupled with that of his cock flopping down onto his stomach. It pulsed lightly, softening and pulling back towards his body. He watched, head spinning, as Priscilla took it into her hand.

“Thought you were getting off easy?” she asked, grinning as Caelan jolted at her touch. “There are two of us, boy.”

She started stroking and Caelan cried out, squirming under his bindings.

“P-Prisci—ahh! I’m s-s-sensitive. I just c-came—I—.”

Any further words were stolen from having those ignited nerves teased again. It was veering dangerously towards being too much. His legs were practically numb. But despite that, he felt his cock making weak attempts to harden again; when did he become this insatiable? Did Solveig make that much of a whore out of him? He could almost hear her harsh barks of laughter as his shaft twitched to no avail.

Priscilla smirked. “How about giving him a stronger hit, Polly? Poor thing can’t get it up.”

Polly laid out beside him, pressing in close.

“Oh, now he can’t,” she teased.

She ran her hand over his chest, settling over his pounding heart. He could see those telltale movements in her flowers again and it clicked what was about to happen. In an instant, that floral scent intensified. It flooded his senses and he moaned, eyes rolling as the resulting rush slammed down to his groin.

His cock sprang back to life, throbbing with an unnatural vigour as it rapidly filled once more. It felt overly swollen; thick and radiating heat. Excess cum squeezed from the quivering slit and ran down his shaft over Priscilla’s fingers. She took her hand off of him to lick up the mess from her knuckles. His engorged dick stood freely, veins pulsing.

“That’s better,” Priscilla said.

She licked her lips and extended her tongue, coiling it around the first couple of inches of his cock. Saliva dripped as she moved it up and down. Rivers of precum streamed from him to add to the slick mess. Caelan shook, the wet sounds barely perceptible over his whimpering.

A second tongue joined in; Polly lapping at one of his nipples. Even that seemed to be throbbing under the influence of her scent. So much power from an unassuming plant; something so pretty bringing out an utter, desperate filth in him.

Priscilla released him, panting heavily.

“Fuck, Polly,” she gasped, her voice rough. “That’s even getting to me a bit.”

She moved and positioned herself over Caelan’s dick. She was soaked; clear, warm fluid dropping onto him. Her petal-like folds seemed to quiver in excitement as she lowered them and lightly thrust her hips to tease the head. Caelan whined alongside Polly’s playful hum.

“Don’t break him, Scissy,” she said. An indirect hint for him to fucking brace himself. “He’s already pretty dumb. Don’t want to make him all cock-brained.”

Priscilla chuckled. “It’d be an improvement.”

She ended her sentence by roughly slamming herself down onto Caelan’s cock. He yelped at suddenly being enveloped in pulsating heat and squirming cilia again. The pleasure stole his breath.

“Isn’t that right, boy?” Priscilla inquired, slowly rising until only his tip breached her.

Caelan inhaled shakily. “Y-yes.”

“Your dick’s the only useful part of you. This is what you’re for.”

She dropped again. Hard.

“Ahh! Yes!” Caelan cried.

“Now, go on,” Priscilla said, rolling her hips to give the barest amount of friction to his raging cock. “What do we say?”

“Please, Priscilla! Fuck me. Let me be your toy! Please! Fuck me!” Caelan begged without a second’s hesitation, any pride left in him laying shattered at the feet of his desire to please her.

“Good boy.”

Priscilla began to ride him and she was nothing like Polly. Her pace built within moments until the quick, slapping sound of their slick flesh seemed to resound through the area. She grunted around her lolling tongue from the force of it, drooling as her pussy swallowed him up. The bounce of her large breasts sent her sweat flicking outwards.

Caelan could barely breathe as he lay there taking it. The ache in his ankles, wrists, and hips from being bound was forgotten. All he could feel was his dick—hot, wet, throbbing—and the kiss of Priscilla’s folds when she bottomed out. He was distantly aware of Polly licking and sucking his nipples, marking him up with her lips and teeth. But it was a little thing amid the shocks of pleasure that came with every rapid drop of Priscilla’s hips.

He moaned, loud and ceaseless. If there were words, they were nonsense. His vision blurred as he peaked again. It was dry. He knew it was dry. But everything throbbed wildly; his cock, his balls, even that spot deep in his ass. He came down from it. Still hard. Still being fucked.

Priscilla had clearly felt it.

“Not a drop left in you, huh? You gave it all to Polly, you stingy little shit,” she said. “But that’s okay. You’re gonna make me cum even if you can’t. That’s what perverts get. Fucking. Used.”

She interrupted her brutal rhythm to punctuate her final two words before resuming. Tears sprung to Caelan’s eyes, his moans becoming littered with sobs. His voice kept cracking to a higher register as overwhelming pleasure engulfed his body. His cock continued to pulse in Priscilla’s swollen, clinging walls. It couldn’t even muster a simple weep of precum anymore; just stay hard for her like a good toy should.

It was euphoric; this loss of control. To feel like an object made for another’s pleasure. No thoughts, no words; just a cock attached to a whimpering, whining, disgusting mess of a thing. Compliant to any erotic whims one wished to exact upon him. All that mattered was serving his purpose and making her cum.

Priscilla was throbbing inside and her pace became erratic. She had ceased her degrading words in favour of a stream of moans and grunts. Her fluids flowed in excess, every plunge into her cunt made audibly sloppy.

With a teeth-baring grin, she thrust down upon him a few final, quick times before dropping to bury him deep as she came. She was loud in her satisfaction; mouth open, tongue sticking out and dripping with saliva. Her orgasm was just as intense as everything else about her; walls squeezing down tightly, pulsing with fervour, a sweltering heat clamping down on his every over-sensitive inch.

Caelan’s heart knocked against his ribs so hard it ached. For a moment, he thought it might give out. His eyes rolled back. Priscilla wouldn’t stop cumming. Her pussy had him locked, endlessly twitching around him. A last orgasm was wrenched from him and darkness edged his vision, ears only privy to a high-pitched whine and his own rapid heartbeat but he knew he was crying out in mindless ecstasy. His throat was raw.

In a haze, he saw more than felt Priscilla lift off of him. His cock was still lewdly straining from him, throbbing and slick. It couldn’t want more. It couldn't possibly be ready for more.

Priscilla’s face dropped into his line of sight.

“You’ll stay and play for a while, won’t you?” she asked sweetly. “We’ve got some friends who would love to meet you.”

He nodded weakly, need twitching between his legs. “Please.”

Polly rose from his side, moving to straddle his head. He looked up into her wet, still-quivering floral folds and his mouth watered.

“I almost forgot,” she said. “Don’t good boys clean up their mess?”

She came down on Caelan and he readily lapped at her pussy; tonguing the hole, tasting his own cum flooding his mouth, and feeding that depraved part of him that loved getting into these situations.

End

Masterlist

#text #spicy #ash originals #terato #exophilia #terato writing #plantfolk #bisexual #monster girlfriend #m/f/f #oc:caelan #oc:polly #oc:priscilla

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miracles-and-butterflies · 2 months

Text

For @jacarandaaaas, based on the premise of “madrigal grandkids having a sleepover.”

Post rebuild, the girls plus Camilo have a sleepover. I have no other words to describe that than chaos ensues.

The Madrigal Sleepover

“—And that is how I told Bubo Marquez to go fuck himself.”

“Oh, you’ve finally gotten back to the point of this story?” Luisa asked, only half-joking because it had definitely taken a good ten minutes to reach the conclusion. Isabela rolled her eyes at her.

“I still can’t believe people think you like men,” Dolores muttered.

“I’m just so proud that I have such an amazing cousin who can kick ass!” Camilo exclaimed. “Seriously, where were you when I was getting bullied in school for being weird? I could have gotten out of so many fights, if I had the ‘my older cousin will beat you up’ excuse! Because frankly the sister one didn’t really work out.”

His sister rolled her eyes, “That is an exaggeration you weren’t bullied in school. Or at the very least, not anything comparable to a man trying to kiss you against your will.”

“No, I guess I can’t relate to that…” Camilo admitted. He looked a bit wishful at the concept of a boy kissing him - he was gladly awaiting his first kiss still. It made Isabela and Luisa gag. “Well, neither can the rest of my cousins. No man would try it with Luisa. And Mirabel…”

He trailed off, all eyes falling to the girl in question. Mirabel was curled up against Luisa, definitely not far from falling asleep. The only movement being the slow rise and fall of her chest. Isabela clambered over Dolores and flashed a torch briefly over her. Briefly because Luisa immediately shoved her older sister into Dolores to shield Mirabel from the attack.

“Christ, Luisa, Mirabel’s fine,” Dolores muttered, pushing Isabela off her and trying to preserve her glass. Isabela fell straight off the bed to the floor, cackling to herself.

Mirabel yawned, eyelashes fluttering, “Is it bedtime yet?”

“Nope,” Isabela grinned, head poking up. “It’s only just turned ten. Come on, you old, little lady, you can’t be tired already. We’ve barely done anything yet. And you missed my great story, I’m gonna have to tell it again.”

“Is this still the one about you threatening to chop a man’s private parts off and feed them to your carnivorous plants?”

“Damnit, you heard? That sucks!”

“Well, I’m not asleep… yet.”

Luisa sat Mirabel further up, tapping her arm gently to further wake her up. “Well, Bela’s right. We haven’t done much yet. You can do a little longer and then we’ll let you go to bed.”

“I physically don’t think I can.” Mirabel said. She was ignored though.

“So, what should we do now?” Camilo asked, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we should—”

“I swear to God, if you say the ‘switch the alcohol out for water prank’ again,” Dolores warned.

“No, hermana! I would never!” He mocked offence at the accusation. He lifted the yellow blanket beside him to reveal a collection of makeup palettes, lipsticks and several hair accessories. “Makeovers! A staple of all the best sleepovers!”

Dolores and Luisa peered over. The former looked more hesitant, while the latter looked fairly intrigued and even excited by the idea. Mirabel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the messily kept containers or just the makeup in general - Camilo wasn’t sure, but he knew his cousin wasn’t the biggest fan in “covering her face in chemicals” as she would say.

Isabela, on the other hand, swatted him hard and he spluttered out petals, “Bitch, when did you steal my shit!?”

“Who said anything about stealing? I’m just borrowing it.”

“No, I’m with Isabela,” Dolores piped up. “I didn’t hear you ask her.”

“Okay, okay, I shoulda asked first!” Camilo held his hands up in surrender. “But… can we do makeovers? Please?! Dolores?” Then smirking, “I bet I could make Mariano propose to you.”

Dolores glared at him. “Isabela, be a dear and slap him for me.”

“Gladly!” Isabela did as instructed, making Camilo hit her back. Vines abruptly yanked him off the bed in response.

“Well, I think it’s a good idea,” Luisa offered. “I wouldn’t mind someone doing my makeup. Bela? You want a go?”

“Oh no, if we’re doing this, I wanna do Dolores.” Isabela insisted, already grabbing her cousin’s hand to prevent her from running off.

“Hey, she’s my sister!” Cried Camilo as he dragged himself back onto the bed.

“So? I called dibs first. And I’m the eldest.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Fuck yeah, it is! Maybe next time don’t steal and you’ll get to have things your way.”

“Yeah, but—”

Dolores groaned a little. “For God’s sake, you can do it together. Just stop arguing.”

Camilo and Isabela relented, seemingly coming to an agreement that they could work on Dolores together and immediately began discussing ideas. That had Dolores backpedaling and trying to argue that they use one of them instead.

Luisa only chuckled, pulling Mirabel closer. “I guess it’s you and me, hermanita.”

“Oh,” Mirabel said. “You wouldn’t want me to do that. I don’t know much anything present beauty trends. I barely know what half of this stuff is.”

“I’m sure you can come up with something.”

Now… if you were to walk by at any point over the next hour, you would be understandably confused with what was going on.

Dolores was constantly complaining and crying out, claiming she had been poked in the eye or her hair was being pulled too tightly. There were several points where the others genuinely stopped to ask if she was alright. She was. Just being dramatic as Camilo and Isabela assaulted her with products. Somewhere along the way, they had both given up on trying to work together to do a good job and were now just trying to make Dolores look as silly as humanly possible. Not that she would know; she was kept well away from a mirror.

Meanwhile, Luisa had happily sunk into the part of an exaggerated and comedic Marie Antoinette that she was unofficially given to play. Mirabel, having woken up a little more, had decided to make Luisa look like the ideal fashions worn by French aristocrats at Versailles, during Louis XVI’s reign. Isabela (after giving up with her cousins) even provided some dye from her plants that could whiten Luisa’s hair, which had been teased high and decorated with ribbons and beads. In contrast to Dolores, Luisa was clearly enjoying herself and greatly liked teasing the others - even if Mirabel kept pointing out the inaccuracies of her acting.

“You look ridiculous,” Dolores commented.

Luisa gasped in horror. “Guards, behead that filthy peasant immediately!” She cried out in her best attempt at a French accent, pointing a finger accusingly. “It will probably be an improvement.”

“No, seriously, prima, you look like someone from the 1880s.” Camilo said.

“1780s,” Mirabel corrected.

“Does it matter? Ain’t it the same thing? Boring, old shit that’s all history is.”

Mirabel didn’t say anything for a moment. The other three wished in silence. “You did not say that to me,” she muttered. “In fact, stop talking to me. You and your incompetence is giving me a headache.”

“Just say ‘fuck off’, sis.” Isabela begged.

“Why don’t we play a board game?” Dolores suggested. “I’ll go get one—”

“No, I want to play Charades. And as the queen of France, I should get to pick.” Luisa beamed, smug as anything.

“Right, fine.” Dolores huffed. She pulled herself to her feet. “You all play a few rounds of Charades. I’ll go clean my face and then come back with a couple of boardgames.”

Mirabel quickly followed, “I’m coming with. To get medicine; I can’t deal with a headache all evening.”

Neither of the pair knew what to say when they returned a good half hour later to find Camilo had been banished to a corner of the room and held there in Isabela’s vines, meanwhile Isabela and Luisa (who was now without her makeover) were covered in plant dye and play-fighting. It seems like Isabela had gotten ahold of some scissors as some point because Luisa was missing more than half her hair. Multicoloured clumps of hair scattered about the room.

“What the actual fuck?” Dolores muttered.

“She started it!”

“She said I could cut it!”

“I thought you were all going to play Charades?” Mirabel inquired. She was quick to push by Dolores and play mediator, trying to convince her sisters to separate. “In hindsight, why did we both leave?”

“Because these three are impossible,” Dolores replied, rolling her eyes. “What exactly did you do?”

Camilo huffed in offence, “I didn’t do anything! I swear! Isabela just moved me here for no reason! Please, hermana! Help me?”

“We were both teasing Bela about how she doesn’t get as many ladies as I do.” Luisa explained. “Then I gave her permission to cut my hair because why not? It’s hair, it’ll grow back. And, well, I think we just got carried away… whoops.”

“Whoops?” Mirabel echoed, unimpressed. Then sighed heavily. “Oh, I’m too young and too tired to deal with this,” she mumbled, settling back into the pile of pillows. “I’ll just have Mama chastise you for it tomorrow morning.”

Isabel shrugged, “Guess us three will be sleeping in then.”

“I refuse to believe that the two of us are somehow related to you three.” Dolores continued. With several more glares at Isabela, her cousin finally relented and released Camilo. The pair joining Mirabel on the floor. Luisa and Isabela slowly made their way over, with Isabela going to finish the haircut. Because apparently if Luisa was going short, she was going all the way.

They went on to play Charades and then a few rounds of card games, though Dolores begrudgingly did so and then tried to claim that she wasn’t enjoying it. Mirabel fell asleep within three minutes of sitting down, so Luisa had taken her back to her own room - to prevent Camilo and Isabela from using her as the victim of some prank. Speaking of, Isabela, Luisa and Camilo only seemed to get more hyper, but that was balanced out by Dolores also getting a little more giddy herself. They then moved on to playing a quick round of Truth or Dare. That was ended by Luisa, who felt that Isabela’s dares were “death sentences” and Dolores’ truths were “too cruel and personal”. Camilo had just enjoyed the drama of the girls, snacking on cocadas.

That had transitioned into a game of Who’s Most Likely To? With very predictable results, but the four of them were enjoying themselves.

“Most likely to get a tattoo?” Camilo asked.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Isabela, who grinned. “That’s fair. Who’s most likely to get caught robbing a bank?”

“Without our gifts? Any of you three.” Dolores answered. “I’m much too clever. Who’s most likely to get hungover and continue a day of work following, without raising suspicion?”

“What a scandalous question for you, Lola!” Isabela teased, hitting her arm playfully. “What would Mariano think of you?”

“I’m the most likely to continue working,” Luisa chuckled, unashamedly. “Can’t say I wouldn’t be caught though. Isabela’s the one with the highest alcohol tolerance, but we’ve yet to see Camilo fully drink, so who knows?”

Isabela shook her head. “No, no. I think it would be you, sis.”

“I’m with Bela,” Camilo piped up. “You’d show up, tough it out and then collapse the second you got back to Casita.” He stood up, dropping down into Mirabel’s form and leaning over to Luisa, “And then I’ll say ‘I told you so’.” Then, shifting into his sister, “‘Because we are always right.’”

The four of them - yes, including Dolores - burst into laughter, so much so that Isabela worried that they might wake the adults, instantly flicking a flower into each of their mouths to shut them up.

When only Mirabel and Antonio showed up for breakfast the following morning, Julieta and Pepa had gone to hunt down their missing children. They found them all huddled, fast asleep, in Luisa’s room in a mass pile of blankets and pillows and a fairly large mess. The two smiled together as they watched from the doorway.

“They are just like we were,” Pepa said.

“Yes, they are exactly like…” Julieta trailed off, pausing. Her eyes widened. “Is that Luisa’s hair?”

Pepa cackled, pulling her sister away and shutting the door. It would be better to let the kids sleep in. “Don’t act so surprised, Juli. You remember the time we shaved Bruno’s head bald?”

#encanto #my writing #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #ask me anything #bruno madrigal #bubo marquez #mariano guzmán #dolores x mariano

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streaminn · 11 months

Note

tell more about this new streamer au u've mentioned bc im very interested

So it starts with an game

You can vc and shit this game too and it was very very popular. You could choose whether to be a normie or an outcast, there were several jobs that one can take and quests with challenges.

Overall a really fun game bc you can either play with friends and build a land with them or play solo and try to complete everything

Think of uh, genshin! But you can customize and level up your character + it being constantly multi-player unless you go to your own private land that you can buy or get from quests

you can also unlock elusive powers as an outcast if you complete certain quests as well.

It was called, Jericho Online bc I can't think of a better name rn 😅

So it starts with Pugsley who starts badgering to thirteen year old Wednesday to join him in playing the game

Wednesday joins begrudingly, tired of all his incessant whining and also because the words of player killing caught her attention

Enid, whos been playing with pugsley is interested immedietely when the two log in. Going !? And circling the newcomer

Wednesday immedietely plays chase and that's the start of a new friendship, with Enid going !?!!!! And Wednesday pulling out her starter knife bc she's supposed to kill this monster

Enid's character is obviously a werewolf, one of the most famous race type in Jericho but there's a catch

Due to high demand, the devs has given a roll of chance to anyone who plays this race. Bc of this you could be an alpha, beta or cursed

Alpha's usually have a better chance to land a critical hit (aka better crit rate in their base form)

Beta is normal, your stats don't change.

Cursed are left unable to shift, which is an ability that all werewolves have where their crit dmg and crit rate is multiplied by two during full moons (which actually follows the irl moon cycle and there are usually combat events/bosses around then who drop really good loot)

This ability is really really good when you have the right artifacts and is part of the reason why so much people choose werewolves

Enid unfortunately, is a cursed and so she sulks with her amazing artifacts with the knowledge that it could be better if she just shifts

Continuing! Wednesday chose to be a psychic and ends up with the sub ability to summon ink creatures at her will. Aka be a beast tamer of some sort

The catch is, she has to kill the creature and subdue it first before she can acquire them into her slots. She is only allowed five creatures in battle so she has to choose carefully aswell

Being a beast tamer is pretty fun but it's lowkey like playing Pokémon so not alot of people liked to use it

Anyways abilities over

Wenclair plus pugsley go have fun, they start raiding dungeons, doing quests together until pugsley drops out from uninterest like a few months in

Enid understands, Wednesday doesn't care and so Wenclair continue their journey of beating absolute ass in this game because wednesday is competitive and Enid is happy to be there

They grind for the absolute best of artifacts and spend so much time on better weapons, it's almost like they're addicted

And honestly? Wednesday was having fun. There was a joy in being able to calculate how well you can do if you wear this goblet that raises your elemental dmg or if you lvl up this skill to a certain lvl you can beat absolutely everyone

(and maybe, planting lil carrots infront of Enid's house isnt so bad)

Enid while competitive, was having fun decorating her lil land far from Jericho. It was like a lil hobbit hole, with greens and vines and dim lighting because wednesday can never stand the bright lights that were originally hung up and vehemently refused to visit if they were there

"you're like a vampire!" Enid says in the in game comm

Wednesday tsks "a vampire who isn't afraid to pk you, Sinclair."

"you're so mean Willa," sinclair, Enid's username, whines.

Willa, Wednesday's own in game username, just hurls her dagger at the sulking blond.

"Wha- HEY!"

So they play and play and omy?

They get married?

Interesting, so it seems that in the second year anniversary of Jericho (when Wenclair are fourteen) the devs decided to have a lil romance for the lonely people and give the ability to marry

Why are Wenclair married? Well, obviously for the benefits. You get 3x the xp when doing quests, challenges and missions together, not to mention that the probability of getting better artifacts and quality quests skyrocket by 5 percent

Like sure you have to share land and divorcing means losing half your gold but it's fine!!

It's with the status of married does Wenclair stumble across a secret quest

The tale of Crackstone

By the third year (Wenclair are now 15) of playing and finishing of the tale, Enid's status as cursed shifts to bludhound.

They celebrate, theyre having fun and theyre practically a married couple. Wednesday insists to go to a dungeon and Enid wants to do a world quest instead

The two settle these disputes with any challenges. They're kids, theyre having fun and if Wednesday looks forward to spending time with Sinclair so much that she bought a pc for herself then that's for her to know.

It's been three years and theyre practically inseparable! The two playing everyday just to spend as much as time together

Until Enid mentions that she won't be so active in a few days.

Why? Willa asks in chat. Are you getting kidnapped?

Course not!! Sinclair replies. Why do you always think I'm being kidnaped??

^n E ways imma be movin so I'll be bz :( can't play much bc we Goin out a state

Wednesday pauses then she squints, there's a feeling in her gut.

Ok, is willa's simple answer. Get online when you come back, we still need to investigate Crackstone's crypt.

Kk! Sinclair cheerily replies. Bye bye Willa, cya in a few dayyysssss

Sinclair has logged out the world.

Wednesday tilts her head a tad and there's a crease on her brow as she sits in her chair. She continues playing, making sure to check over the crops one more time before turning in for the night.

Crackstone's crypt is left uninvestigated for years

Sinclair inbox: 99+ unread messages!

#Wenclair #jericho online au

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momolady · 2 years

Text

Reza the Manticore

A strange house covered in scrap and whose front yard is more akin to a junk yard than a lawn is the site of today's story. An artist uses trash to turn it into treasure. But he's seen as more mad scientist that artist.

Nonbinary Reader (afab) x Male Monster (cis)

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The old house you stood outside of looked as though it had seen better days. The iron fence was overgrown with weeds and vines, and beyond it the yard was littered like a junkyard. The only reason you came here was because you were fed up, but if you had passed this house at any other time you would have sped your gate to avoid it.

The gate was open so you just let yourself inside. This was a mission, so you felt partially like a spy sneaking into an enemy base. Your friends at the boarding house had told you not to come here, but you were sick of the tensions extending from your boss and all through the one paradise-like boarding house. The man who lived in this house was the cause of all that tension.

“You there,” a bellowing voice called from above.

You had barely stepped inside and already you were spotted. Just up on the awning of the porch roof there stood the man you were looking for. He grinned down at you, pushing up the brim of his shabby hold hat.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he jumped down from the awning, barely missing a flower bed full of scrap.

You stiffened your shoulders and put on a brave face. “Is that supposed to scare or impress me?” You walked forward towards him. “You’re Reza Radan right?”

The tall, burly man removed his sunglasses to reveal a set of eyes so golden they glowed under the brim of his hat. He grinned, showing off the gold incisor in his mouth. “Is that who you want me to be?”

You frowned at him, not giving him any sort of reaction beyond displeasure. “I’m from the Nasrin Dance Theatre-”

The big man started laughing hard, his wide mouth opened in a strangely grotesque way. “My bitch sister sent you!”

“No! She didn’t!” You stomped a foot forward. “I came on my own, because I am sick and tired of the tension at the boarding house!” You had to yell over his guffawing.

Reza took a step back. “I suppose you’re all pissed I bought your crappy little theatre. So what do you wanna do about it?”

You grimaced as you looked at him, he looked crusty and unkempt, covered in grease stains and rust dust from his massive boots to the top of his salt and pepper head. “I wanted to ask you to let us use the theatre once before you do...whatever it is you plan on doing to it.”

Those gold eyes looked you up and down and a black tongue darted over the corner of his mouth. “Do you think I’m kind or something?”

Reza’s gaze felt strange upon your body so you crossed your arms against your chest. “From the shouting matches I’ve heard you have with Mrs. Riahi; no I don’t.”

“Good, I’d hate to build any sort of differing reputation. Although, it is a pleasure to get someone such as yourself knocking at my door. Always willing to hear out a pretty face.”

You balked and dropped your arms. “Excuse me?”

Reza chuckled, stepping towards you. “Usually I would knock solicitors out the gate and onto their asses. But an ass like yours deserves to be treated with nothing but respect.”

As soon as he was close enough you slapped him. Reza didn’t budge, he just stood there with a pleased grin upon his face.

“My ass has nothing to do with this,” you huffed in a sort of defeat. “I am asking you just this one favor. One! Let us do this last performance then you can have that theatre. I just want there to be some peace at the boarding house.”

Reza rubbed his jaw where you struck him. “No wonder I like the cut of you, you’re a dancer. My sister was always bringing dancers home when we were kids, so I grew a taste.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “You’re disgusting!”

A chuckle built in his chest. “Forgive me, I lose myself in front of attractive people. My brain just short circuits and allows the pig to come out.”

Your were unsure how to take that, so you remained quiet with a disgusted look upon your face.

That sug grin never left his face. “You’re androgynous too, another point. I never much cared for gender, all I cared about was how much fun we were going to have.”

“The theatre,” you snapped at him.

“Oh right. Right. No.” He said decisively.

“Why not?” You snapped. “What are you going to do with a theatre anyways?” You barked.

“Whatever the fuck I want, it’s mine,” Reza chuckled. “I can tear it down, build it up, maybe even open it up to let nature take over.” he then placed his sunglasses back onto his face. “My sister knows what she did.”

You flapped your arms out. “How old are you?”

“Old enough to know what I’m doing and get stellar reviews for it.” He lowered his sunglasses and looked over the rim at you. “If you ever grow sick and tired of dancing, my arms are always open.”

You took a breath to steel yourself against his verbal diarrhea. “I don’t know what you and Mrs. Riahi have between you, but you’re being a severe prick about it. Just let the dance troupe use the stage for this show! It means a lot and after that we’ll start looking for another.”

“Well, let me think about it.” He rubbed his chin, thickly coated in stubble. He was silent for a long while, and you began hearing noises coming from the clutter and shrapnel in the yard.

Rez then dropped his hand with a laugh. “If you come pose for me, I’ll consider lending you the theatre.”

Your guts churned. “Pose? For what?”

Reza nodded. “An art piece I’ve been struggling with.”

“You make art?”

He scoffed, his smile vanished for the first time since you walked up. “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think I could be a creative?”

The same had been said about you and dance, so you kept your mouth shut. “What kind of artwork?”

“Sculptor. Can’t you tell by my art supplies?” he swept his arm out, motioning to the junkyard heap piled on all sides. “Everything I make is made from recycled materials.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “Well, that makes sense.”

Reza chuckled. “And since you’re a dancer, I’m sure you can mold that body of yours as you please, so I’m certain you’d make a good model. Do that for me, and the stage is yours.”

You grumbled under your breath. “Can I bring a taser?”

“If you’d like, but I promise, I may talk like a pig, but I will always act like a gentleman.” He bowed, sweeping his arm along his waist.

“You promise?”

Rez extended his hand out to you. “I am a man of my word. Shake and it’s a deal.”

You took a deep breath in then grabbed his hand. “Fine. When do you need me?”

Reza’s smug grin returned and he chuckled suspiciously under his breath. “As often as you can sacrifice yourself. “I know my sister can be a slave driver with her troupe, so whenever you are free, come to me.”

His word choices had you questioning. “Okay, fine.”

“Excellent! Would you like to start now?” he motioned back towards the house.

You shook your head. “No. I’ll need some time to prepare myself.”

The golden glow behind his sunglasses flickered. “Fine by me. Then I suppose I shall see you soon.”

Back at the boarding house, the rest of the troupe was eager to hear your report. They gathered around you, waiting to hear what happened at Reza’s place.

“I heard he’s worse than Mrs. Riahi.”

“He’s supposedly some sort of monster caused by a curse, that’s why Mrs. Riahi won’t fight him for the theatre.”

“He’s weird and creepy,” you huffed, but I wouldn’t say he's a monster.” You took off your boots before you walked through the front door. You were followed into the kitchen where you got a drink.

“But what happened?”

You sighed. “He’s an artist, apparently,” you shrugged and cracked open your drink. “He wants me to pose for him.”

“That’s all?”

You took a long drink and exhaled loudly. “Top surgery was nothing, this will be a pain in my ass.”

“So you’re doing it?”

You frowned and nodded. “If that’s all it takes, I’ll grit my teeth and bare it as long as I have to.” You then turned to the others. “Just don’t tell Mrs. Riahi about this! I’ve worked too hard to get a spot in this troupe, I won’t lose it.”

The next day, after practice and rehearsals, you left to go back to Reza’s home. The front gate and door were both wide open, so you let yourself in. His foyer was dark, the only light you could see came from a distant doorway.

“Hello?” You stepped inside and heard what sounded like a buzzsaw going off. You stepped back outside just in case.

The buzzsaw stopped and heavy footsteps came down the hall. Golden eyes gleamed from the shadows, and Reza turned on a light. He saw you and grinned. “Ah, it’s you. Come on in.” He waved his hand for you to follow. You kept a distance between you, making sure he walked into the room before you did.

“This is my workshop!” He threw his hands out to show off. “Together, you and I will make something wonderful.”

His word choices still perturbed you. You set your bag aside and looked around. Scrap metal gleamed on the walls, along with power tools and canisters. A large table stretched from one wall and nearly all the way to the other side.

“Have you ever murdered anyone in here? Because it looks great for that.”

Reza guffawed. “No, no, sweetheart. Murder isn’t my style.” He motioned to a wooden palette. “I set you up on a stage, just for you.”

You shucked your coat which he took and hung on the door. “What do you want me to do?”

“That’s half the problem. I’m not sure what I want. I just know that I want to capture something. A moment.”

You stood there and frowned. “You’re going to have to give me something more than that to work with.”

Reza tipped his glasses down, gazing at you with those golden eyes. “How flexible are you?”

“You better be asking that professionally.”

“I am, I am, hold your horses, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I have an idea in my mind, but I want to make sure you can manage it.”

“Yeah, I’m flexible,” you huffed.

Reza’s eyes flicked up the ceiling then back down. “If I can attach a strap of some kind it might help you hold the pose. But first can you bend back like-” he attempted to lean backward but stopped. “Why am I even trying?” He came up behind you, placing his huge, warm palm against your back. “Ease back for me.”

You lowered down, laying into his palm. You focused ot he ceiling, not wanting to look at his face.

“That’s it, very good.” He held you there for a moment before pushing you back up. “I’ll have to set up a rig so you don’t hurt yourself.” He walked away, gathering up his hair and tying it back. “By the way, what do you want me to call you?”

“Certainly not sweetheart,” you grouched.

He chuckled. “No, I mean what makes you comfortable to refer to you as?”

You touch your back where his palm had been, your skin still feels warm there. “I’m nonbinary if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Gotcha. Good, I wanted to make sure.” He looked up from his desk at you. “I want to make sure you’re comfortable here.”

That was a surprise from your first impression of him.

He then waved his hand at you. “You can go now, that’s all I needed tonight.”

“That’s it?”

Reza looked up and grinned. “You can’t rush these things. Besides, I have to make a few modifications to assure I get the best ose from you that I can. Come back tomorrow.”

You frowned, but you weren’t going to argue. You picked up your bag and left without another word.

More questions awaited you once back at the boarding house, but you didn’t have much to give since the visit had been so short. Once people scattered, Ela, mrs. Riahi’s youngest daughter, joined you in the kitchen,

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You asked.

Ela shook her head. “No. Not at all. I’m actually kind of relieved you’re doing this.” She sat down with you at the table. “They’ve been fighting like this since I was a kid.”

“Do you know why?”

Ela shook her head slowly. “I’ve never gotten a straight answer. I just know they’re both very similar. My uncle is a good guy, he always spoiled my sisters and me when we were little. He just was dealt a shitty hand.”

You furrowed your brow. “A shitty hand?”

“It’s a little strange to explain, but it’s a genetic thing. Sort of like werewolves but...different.” She got a strange, concerned look upon her face. “He was born with it, and it causes him to be a manticore.”

“Someone said something about a curse,” you murmured.

“My eldest sister has it too, but Uncle Reza got it really bad. He was really out of control as a kid from what I’ve heard, and he’s only recently been able to control it. He was sent away a lot as a kid.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked.

“I think Uncle Reza just wants someone to talk to. I think he’s lonely. Mama stopped letting him around us when I was little, and most of the family won’t have much to do with him either. I don’t think he’s a bad person, and I don’t think him being a manticore is something wrong. I don’t want you to think that. Maybe if he has someone to talk to, a confidant or something, it’ll help him.”

You sighed and looked down. “Maybe that’s why he asked for me to model then. Because he’s lonesome?”

Ela smiled. “Try and be his friend for me. Tell him I miss him.”

You nodded and put a reassuring smile on your face. “Fine. Okay. I’ll keep going. I was going anyway just so we could use the theatre.”

“Thank you so much!” Ela beamed. “I really appreciate it.”

You still weren’t sure about him, but having a little backstory helped. Although you weren’t sure how much that would mean down the road.

The next day when you went to his place, Reza was outside waiting for you. He was sitting on his porch with his feet propped up onto the railing. Smoke billowed around his head while he chewed on the end of a cigar.

“There you are!” He stood up, taking the cigar from his mouth in a flourish. “I just got your stage finished.”

You waved your hand before your face as the smoke crept closer. “Stage?”

He grinned. “Something I rigged up to make the posing easier.”

Frowning, you gripped the strap of your backpack tighter. “Like meat hooks?”

Reza waved you into the house, taking you back to his workshop. “I figure I would need to see all angles to get this piece just right, so I rigged up a sort of lazy susan contraption.” Where the wood palette had sat before there was now a round stand with strips of fabric hanging from the ceiling. “I even got the strap here to rotate with you so you don’t get tied up.” He then looked at you with a smile. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You grimaced at him and set your bag aside. “Let’s just get this started.” You hopped up onto the stage then looked back at him. “Oh, right. Ela told me to tell you hello.”

Reza froze for a moment, and his characteristic smile vanished. He snubbed out the cigar and scoffed. “Is that right?”

You watched him for any other sort of reaction, but he turned his back to you. He whipped off his leather jacket and you were distracted by the muscular back he had hidden beneath it. You stared despite you best wishes, watching his muscles flex and turn as he reached for equipment hanging on the wall.

“Haven’t seen her in ages.”

“She told me that.” You slipped into the strap, leaning back with ease and a surprising amount of comfort. It reminded you of ribbon dancing so you lifted up your legs and kicked them up towards the ceiling.

“What a show off,” Reza chuckled. “I figured you could do something special with those legs.”

You set your legs back down. “You ruined that moment.”

“I’m serious,” he said sternly. “I knew you’d be a good dancer the moment I saw you. My sister must have had to steal you from someone.”

You sighed. “No, not really. I quit a job to come to the troupe. But no one was really fighting to keep me or take me. I was actually lucky that her first choice had to drop out.”

Reza set equipment on the table as he listened. “And that’s why the theatre is so damn important to you.”

You realized you gave yourself away, so you decided to lean into it. “Yeah, it is. I’m risking a lot being here, and I’m not losing my dream job because some creepy asshole wants to get his revenge or his jollies off.”

Reza chuckled, leaning over his desk. “And what else did Ela tell you?”

You leaned back in the straps again, lifting your arms up to take hold and you swept your legs out. “She said she thinks your lonely.”

“Well,maybe she’s right.” He put on a face shield and turned on a welding device and that was the end of the conversation.

Reza worked until late into the evening, stopping just when you were beginning to cramp in your shoulders. He turned off his equipment, then lifted up the shield mask.

“That should be it for tonight.”

You grunted as you rose from the straps, rubbing your shoulder as best you could. The cramping traveled between shoulder blades and sucked the breath from you.

“Come here.” Reza approached, removing his thick gloves. “Let me see that.”

“No, no, it’s nothing it’s-” His warm hands fell upon your shoulders, and once he started squeezing it melted away the ache. You let out a moan which made him chuckle in return.

“How’s that?” Reza asked. “Not too shabby huh?”

You cleared your throat. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

Reza continued kneading his big, warm hands into your shoulders, moving his fingers to your neck where, with one twist, there was a cereal-like crunching that went down your neck.

“What the hell was that?” You whimpered.

“Tension and stress.” Reza moved his hands down your lower back. “Do you tense your jaw a lot?”

You placed your hand under your jaw and around your neck. “Maybe?”

Reza walked around to face you. “Let me try this then.” His big fingers slipped around your cheeks, making you freeze in place from such an odd touch. He pressed into your jaw, focusing on the hinges. It felt strangely good.

“There now,” he said under his breath. “Doesn’t that feel better.”

Your face heated up, but you blamed it on his close proximity. You placed your fingertips upon his wrist, hoping to move him back, but you really didn’t make an effort.

Reza stepped back, releasing you from his clutches. “How about a drink before you head home?”

“I really shouldn’t.” You reached for your bag, taking out your phone to check for messages.

“I take it by the shouldn’t that you want to?”

You sighed. “Mrs. Riahi doesn’t like us drinking.”

You threw his head back laughing. “That’s hilarious coming from her!”

You eyed him as you slipped your bag over your shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m not trying to do anything to risk this job.”

Reza chuckled. “I know, I know. Quit your job. Shattered dreams. Blah, blah, blah. What’s your poison? I’m sure I have it in stock.”

You hesitated speaking, thinking you should just go home and get some sleep. Only thing was, a drink did sound nice. “Vodka.”

Reza snickered. “I have an endless reservoir of that. Come on.” He lead you a room over, taking you into the kitchen where there was a chest freezer next to the stove. He opened it, taking out two bottles of vodka that were frosted over.

You mouth watered at the thought of how cold it would be. “I haven’t had a drink since I moved here.”

Reza took glasses from the cabinet and set them upon the counter. “Trying to be a good little student.”

“I suppose,” you grumbled.

Reza poured your glasses then handed it to you. As you were about to take to a sip he lifted up his white tank to wipe off his face. His chest and belly were covered in coarse hair, his pecs were well defined, and even if there was a pooch to his belly, he looked solid as a rock.

You sputtered, almost choking on your vodka.

“Too strong for you?” he laughed.

You shook your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “No I just-”

Reza held up his glass. “So long as you enjoy the experience.”

You sighed, taking your glass and tapping it against his. “Cheers.”

He drank deep from his glass, breathing out and his eyes glowed brightly. He looked at you, and you were well aware of his gaze traveling down your body. “What else did you give up to dance for my sister?”

You scoffed. “Nothing much really.”

“No relationship?” He asked calmly.

You blew a raspberry before taking another sip.

“No relationship,” he chuckled.

You sighed and leaned over the counter. “Why? Are you offering?”

Reza beamed. “Always offering, sweetheart.” He leaned over the counter towards you. “Have I piqued your interests?”

You take a longer drink.

“Or did my Ela say something else?”

You licked your lips then shrugged. “She said you were a manticore, but she really hammered in the loneliness.”

Reza’s smile softened, turning a shade of sad that almost touched you. “Glad to see my sister didn’t brainwash her completely. She was always my favorite.” He moved back, leaning against the fridge behind him. “But yes, I am both of those things.”

“You don’t look it,” you murmured.

Reza chuckled. “Which one?”

“Both. You don’t appear to be either.”

“That’s what years of practice and lying to yourself will do, sweetheart.” he aimed his glass at you. “Look at yourself, you’ve hidden plenty I’m sure wouldn’t be given on. The tension in your jaw and the crackling of your neck give that away.”

You frowned and shrugged.

“I’m sure you’ve hidden much, just like me.”

You place your hand upon your chest, just above your top surgery scars. “Yeah, well, you got me.”

Reza smirked. “My sister thinks I’m dangerous. So she took my nieces from me, turned my family’s backs against me. We got into a fight and I may have overreacted. But then she did as well.”

“Did you try to eat her or something?”

A slight smirk appeared on his face. “Not so literal. But I did try to jump down her throat. But enough about me. I’m much more curious about you.”

You chuckled as you sipped your vodka. “I don’t turn into a magical beast, so I don’t know what you’re curious about.”

“Now, now, don’t be so modest. I’ve seen many dancers in my life and seen what they can turn into. Passion creates magic, that’s what it all boils down to. Hatred, love, joy, sorrow, put those at their strongest and that is where you’ll find magic happening.” His smile grew. “And I can tell from your posing how well you can control your body. You have a gift.”

You bit back your smile. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart.” He then brought out the vodka bottle. “Another glass?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

After a couple more drinks, Reza called you a car to send you back to the boarding house. In the morning you woke with a bad case of cottonmouth and a slow moving ache in your head. You guzzled water during practice, but luckily the headache wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

Each evening you went back to Reza’s place, posing for his sculpture which bit by bit was taking form. You would sometimes move your stage, turning it so he was sure to get the angles right from every possible side. You sometimes shares drinks at the end of it, but what you looked forward to the most was when he offered to massage your shoulders and neck. Those strong hands on your body felt so good it was hard to ignore.

One evening, as you were walking in, Reza got a look on his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.

“What?” You huffed. “It was a pretty strenuous class today. I’m tired.”

Reza frowned then he grabbed your hand. “Come here. I won’t have you posing tonight looking like that.”

“Looking like what?” You balked as he tugged you into another room. He smacked the top of a dining table. “Lat on your stomach.”

“What?”

Reza’s eyes glowed from behind his glasses. “Lay down. I’ll find some lotion. Your body is in no shape for modeling tonight.”

The idea of getting a much more through massage than usual did sound inviting. “How can you tell?” You hopped up onto the table and there was a twinge in your lower back.

“You’re carrying yourself far too heavy.” Reza came back in with a bottle in his hands. “Now lay down, and don’t squirm, I’ll have to pull you shirt up.”

You did as he said, flinching a bit when he touched bare skin. You bit your lip, finding more pleasure in it than discomfort. He smoothed something cold against your skin, and his fingers worked into your shoulders and back, slowly making your body warm to his touch.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

You moaned softly. “Amazing.”

Reza chuckled. “Good. Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Those words sent a shiver down your body.

“You would think she would take better care of her troupe,” Reza grunted. His strong handed melted your body into a puddle, rubbing out every ounce of tension you held, looseing each knot he came across.

You moaned and grunted, trying to hold back your voice while he worked. “Fuck that’s good.”

“That gave me goosebumps,” Reza growled very close to your ear.

Your cheeks heated and you kept your head down.

After a while, Reza moved his hands away and tugged your shirt back down. “You should be good to go now.”

You sat up with a sigh, your body felt warm and loose, you felt comfortable and cozy. Yous miled dreamily, and Reza’s expression shifted.

“That felt amazing.” You touched your neck. “How do you do it?”

“Nothing really,” he chuckled.

You look into his eyes which were a deep, moving liquid gold. “How about I do you then?”

Reza’s eyes widen, burning brighter. “What?”

“Your back. I can massage it if you want.”

Reza chuckled and rubbed his hairy chin. “I’d be a fool to turn that down. But are you sure?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m feeling good so I want to pay it forward.”

Reza stepped forward as you slipped off the table. He look off his shirt to reveal his bare chest and back. If you were being honest, you had been wanting to get at his back for a while now. He laid upon the table and you placed your hands upon his back. He felt solid like a rock and was warm as one left out in the sun. You started kneading into his shoulders, but you needed some elevation, so you climbed up onto the table and straddled his back.

“I like that.” Reza’s laugh had a tinge of nerves to it.

You tried your best to knead and massage down his back, but you weren’t as skilled as Reza was. He made small grunts and moans as you worked, but you felt you were taking more pleasure in this by touching him.

As you rubbed down his sides you felt something brush up along the back of your leg. Turning, you saw a tail curling around you. Reza sat up like a shot, nearly knocking you off the table. He was breathing hard and he kept his head down.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he growled.

“Is something wrong?”

Reza scoffed. “Oh just...just let my guard down was all.” He looked back at you for a brief second. His hair had gotten thicker and grown around his face like a mane. “Give me a second to collect myself.” The tail tucked itself around his side as he tried to hide himself.

You stepped towards him, placing your hand upon his back which was growing smooth, velvety fur. “It’s alright.”

His voice came out a low, raspy snarl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What's the worst you could do?” You brushed your fingers down his side and he shivered.

Reza glanced back at you, his face changed, but it was still recognizably him. His golden eyes were larger and sharper than before. You smiled up at him, trying to reassure him.

“What’s that smirk for?” He growled, his voice deeper.

“Nothing, I just think I realized I like you.”

Reza jerked and his voice caught in his throat.

“You’re strange but that’s not a bad thing. You’re kind of charming, and I guess you’re sexy.” You smooth your hand down his arm to take his hand. His palm was heavier and bigger, and there were claws tipping his fingertips. “So what if you’re a manticore? There’s worse things in this world.”

“Don’t try to tease me like this.” Reza grabbed your hand and held it tight, careful with his sharp claws.

“I’m not,” you murmur. “I like coming here. I thought I’d hate it but I kept looking forward to seeing you.”

Reza pulled you around to him, cupping your chin in his hand as he looked down at you. He dipped down and his gaze felt warm on your skin. You closed your eyes as his breath fluttered against your cheek. Reza nuzzled to your shoulder, then your neck, slowly moving himself towards your lips where he stole a kiss.

You reached for more, pulling him to take another and another. Reza pulled away, placing his hand over your mouth.

“I need to calm down. Stay here!” He left in a hurry with wings sprouted upon his back. He charged off on all fours and you could hear him bumbling down the halls. You smiled, touching your lips as you thought about what you had done.

Reza returned later, back in his usual guise. He cleared his throat and walked into the room as confidently as he could.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.” You couldn’t hold back your smile. “Does that happen often when you get flustered?”

“You could say that,” he huffed. “So don’t get any ideas. I’m an old fashioned type.”

You took his hand and placed a kiss upon his knuckles. “I’m okay with going slow if that’s what you need. It’ll be fun.”

Reza’s cheeks darkened as he looked at you. “Easy now, I only just got my glamour back on. I’d hate to ruin the evening.” His usual smirk returned. “Especially since it appears we won’t be working.”

You prepared yourself for another kiss, but he instead placed one upon your forehead. It was nice though, and you chuckled softly.

“How about dinner then?”

Reza nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster fudger #monsterxhuman #monster x human #manitcore #manticore boyfriend #my writing #momolady monsters

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arc-misadventures · 2 years

Note

Jaune FMK Weiss winter willow

Jaune: FMK Schnee’s

Jaune: Okay… This is actually a rather simple choice, choices for once…

Weiss: Simple?! You’re choosing between me, my sister, and my mother, and the choices is rather simple?!

Winter: Now now, Weiss. First, lets see what his choices are, then we can complain about them.

Willow: And, what every they are are better than the hell I have dealt with at the expense of him…

Weiss: Fine… But you better watch it, Jaune, or else!

Jaune: Okay…? Well to start off: Marry, Winter.

Weiss: What?!

Winter: Oh really~?

Weiss: Why are you marrying her?!

Jaune: Well… She has height, beauty, and curves. Men, such as myself are attracted to those things.

Winter: I do poses all of those, and more dear sister~!

Weiss: And, because of that you chose my sister over me?! And, what do you mean men are attracted to those kind of things?!

Jaune: Genetics.

Weiss: Genetics?

Jaune: Yeah, woman with, Winter’s, ‘hour glass figure’ tend to have high…high fertility rates…

Weiss: What?! You want to breed my sister?!

Winter: You what?! Why ypu…?!

Willow: No no, lets see where he’s going with this.

Jaune: What! I want to have a family! People look for such things when they want to have a relationship. In fact, Winter, do you want to have a family of your own some day?

Winter: W-Well yes I would… A-And, after getting to know you… I-I wouldn’t mind having a family w-with you…

Jaune: See! Even, Winter wants a family! That’s why I marry, Winter. She beautiful, smart, elegant, and like me wants to have a family too! So I could see us having a family together, a big family. Not as big as my family, but a family nonetheless.

Winter: How big is, Jaune’s family?

Weiss: Seven sisters, and himself. Only one pair of twins.

Winter: That poor woman!

Willow: Or, damn lucky~!

Winter: Mother?!

Willow: What? To have that many kids means they did it a lot. Even we, your father, and I unfortunately did it multiple times. So just imagine how viral of a man your husband is~!

Winter: But, mom, it’s just a game, we’re not actually getting married!

Willow: Yet~!

Winter: Y-Yet…?!

Weiss: So, I guess you’re gonna fuck me, and kill my mom then?

Jaune: Actually I was going to fuck your mother, and kill you.

Willow: Yes!

Weiss: WHAT?! How could you say that?!

Jaune: I am a hormonal teenager, and your mother is a thic milf, who has lived the definable of a loveless marriage! This is the bases of so many cheap quality porn films, so of course I want to fuck your mom!

Weiss: But, my mom?!

Jaune: Hey! You stuck it to your father by throwing him in jail! I’m gonna stick to him by sticking it up your mothers ass!

Weiss: YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!

Willow: Mmmmh~! I can already imagine it; My fingers running through his short golden locks as he uses his body as he pleases. Him ravishing my body, molding my body to his shape. Him claiming me as his, and his alone. Ohhh~! Just what this lonely old woman needs~!

Winter: Mom, you can’t be serious…

Willow: You father was a ‘pump, and dump’ man… who left me thoroughly unsatisfied. Mr. Arc definitely doesn’t appear to be such a man. So just imagine, what it could be, what it will be~!

Winter: B-But, are you sure it would be like that?

Willow: Well… word from the grapevines says it is like that…

Winter: What grape vines?

Willow: So, how about I have the first run with him. After that, and I know how good he is. We can both take him together for your first time.

Winter: T-Together?!

Willow: Just think about it dear. There’s no rush.l for you to make your decision. That is, until you need it~!

Winter: I-I-It…?!

Weiss: So why am I getting the ax?! What did I do?!

Jaune: You said no… Months ago… In fact you slammed a door on my face to make your point clear to me.

Weiss: Eh?

Jaune: So, I’m going to pick the two that I have a chance with, than the one who said no to me.

Weiss: B-But, What if you do have a chance with me… N-Now?

Jaune: Eh?

Weiss: You’ve grown up, I’ve grown up, were both different people then we were back then. So, don’t you think there is a chance we might be able… to become something more that what we currently are…?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Outside of the game, I think there is a chance for all of us to be more than just friends…

Weiss: R-Really?!

Jaune: But, this is MFK; You’re dead little lady.

Weiss: Shit!

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #winter schnee #willow schnee #jaune x weiss #weiss x jaune #jaune x winter #winter x jaune #willow x jaune #jaune x willow #rwby whiteknight #rwby winterknight

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pinkpruneclodwolf · 2 years

Text

Wired Take—Chapter 2 is About Nature v Nurture.

Why Savanclaw chapter is about siblings relationships

Before I get into why Chapter 2 is about Nature v Nurture we're gonna unpack the Savanaclaw chapter and why it was actually the hardest chapter for me to grasp because of

1: How short it was—

21 episodes compared to Heartslabyul's 28, Octavinelle's 39, Scarabia's 41, Pomefiore's 69, and Ignihyde's 89.

Listen, I'll give Savanaclaw the benefit of the doubt when it comes to Pome and Igni bc they're later chapters meaning Yana had time to put more than enough effort, but Heartslabyul having 7 more episodes (plus the strong ass start from the Prologue) and Octavinelle having 11 more episodes feels weird asl, especially when you consider how iconic the Lion King is. Becoming the highest grossing movie in 1994 (it beat out Jurassic Park) not to mention the Lion King Broadway that's been running for 24 years, rakes in 1.6 mil a week, and has a gross value of 9 billion and counting.

And you're telling me it's the shortest out of the chapters??? Be fucking fr.

2. How the characters were characterized in a way that you'd have to read the next chapter (or personal stories) to grasp the fundamentals of those characters.

Cramming three hyenas into one boy was a choice and some change but I'm willing to say that Ruggie is a solid ass character, could there have been more? Absolutely. But Ruggie is holding his own pretty well.

Leona actually gets more characteration through Vignettes, Personal Stories, Events, and other chapters and I appreciate it because he was done dirty.

In his own chapter.

But Jack, the one non-Disney character and based off the wolf-dog in White Fang, written by Jack London. The story is about how the wolf dog is rescued from his abusive owner and slowly becomes domesticated through patience and compassion to a point where he protects the father of the man who adopted him.

And 3: How Leona's motivations were ruined because of how much his story ties into Scar's.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with Leona after Savanaclaw (bc he had his magical mental breakdown and came to terms with the fact he'll never be king... not) and the sure as hell isn't anything wrong with a "what if" version of Scar who didn't kill his brother and attends school where he can pretend he's king for little whilst that it looks like he's got his shit together and isn't fighting the constant inferiority complex that gets fueled whenever he's sees Malleus exist a likkle too hard...

However, in the face of Riddle (based off the Queen of Hearts) and how strictness ties into his character, how—despite relying on rules—he's actually pretty mischievous, how his mother essentially played God with his life from his very conception until he got to Night Raven and sharing motivations with the protagonist.

In the face of Jamil whose life was decided to be less than Kalim's because of the longstanding history of his family being subservient to the Al-Asim's to a point where his family told him not to overshadow Kalim, but even so he still yearns to be greater than who he is and be able to show the world that his life has as much of the same worth as Kalim's.

In the face of Azul (based off of Ursula) who had been ostracized to a point where he refuses to return to his original form, still keeps every secret, problem, and trait of his childhood bullies who wants to burn away the last vestiges of who he was before NRC yet is still ruled by his old world...

Leona falls short. His motivations are rushed, his backstory a watered down version of Scar's, and his OB scene barely memorable besides the cool ass fit.

Chapter 2 upsets me because Lion King came from Disney's Renaissance era, was the highest grossing moving of 1994 meaning people lined up to watch Mufasa die in a theater to a point that an entire generation is defined by remembering that one scene in that one movie.

Vines and memes centered around the scene and people shaking and crying and throwing up more than Simba did in the damn movie and you mean to tell me Leona rode on those coattails and still flopped????

The Devil is a damn liar.

In an effort to make Chapter 2 less eldritch than it is in terms of incomprehensiblility, I've decided to come up with a better explanation (and fix it) for Savanaclaw.

Only the real will understand.

1. How Short it Is.

I mention how Savanaclaw is the shortest chapter in the game, which is insane considering the game has no sense of time-frame—I would say the Overblots span over a month, but Octavinelle proves this wrong when Jade says "you were the one spying with Riddle the other day" in the JP translation which means Leona's Overblot was the "fastest".

But that makes no sense considering it takes, 3 days~ (making a timeline up) for Jade and Floyd to propose Yuu confront Azul, and when Grim and Yuu take Jack's proposal the Savanaclaw students literally say "Aren't those the guys that trespassed on our dorm the other day?!"

Savanaclaw takes place in October and Octavinelle takes place in November, if I recall most midterms start after 5 1/2 weeks into school, especially in colleges, meaning from the last two weeks in November should be prime time... And this is for a college, not a Highschool, and while NRC is based off of UK schooling they don't refer to the Mid terms as Finals because BrE doesn't have midterms, they have end of the year examinations and this is considered a recent development. [Though I cannot speak from the Brits I just read through a couple articles I will be linking below]

So, yes, I know that Octavinelle starts with Yuu and Grim waking up and then taking the exams but like,,,,, I refuse to believe charas are saying the other day and referring to a week or so ago.

Time is a social construct but it's a prevalent one for a damn reason.

Anyways, why is Leona's Overblot the fastest? Riddle starts accumulating Blot early on because it's a tutorial Chapter to show what you'll be dealing with, Azul doesn't start accumulating Blot around the time Yuu offers Ramshackle as collateral. (Or am I misremembering???) Which becomes a track record as Jamil, Vil, and Idia start accumulating Blot nearing the middle of the chapter and everything starts derailing into Overblot and it wasn't even Idia accumulating Blot, it was Ortho.

Leona does accumulate Blot but it's after the dorm leader meeting which is directly after Ruggie is shown to be the culprit which still threw me off.

The rant about not being told he couldn't be number one should've been reserved for a one on one conversation or after said convo.

I physically cringed when he started off his rant with that bc it sounds like he's in cahoots with whomever is causing students to be injured, he's lucky no one in that room took a moment to process what he said—ntm Azul reacted with interest when he proposed an alternative to defeating Diasomnia.

Leona got as far as he did not bc he was displaying smarts or cunning but bc the ppl around him were dumbed down/not paying attention to his words. Which is crazy since Leona is propped up to be NRC's top student in academics and he's sitting here in front of someone who discovered and honed their Unique Magic at 10. Merman who got bullied to the point of obsessively studying magic and discovering it naturally. A world class actor and model who knows multiple languages and multiple sports, and genius enough to create a poison strong enough to take the Dorm Leader spot of Pomefiore. Kalim who has (possibly) been advised to be very careful of his surroundings due to multiple assassination attempts, a genius who made a robot in his brother's image. Crowley who runs the show essentially throwing his motivations on the table.

Like,,,, get a fucking grip, save the villain monologing for after you're sure you've won.

Thing is, this goes on for the entirety of the chapter—The fakeout of Ruggie seeming like he's the one accumulating Blot since he's doing all the leg work and Leona throwing out his plans for anyone to hear, the whole point of Jack confronting Leona stems from the first year overhearing his conversation lmaooo.

You can throw your hat in the ring and say that Leona doesn't care. That he genuinely believes that he or Ruggie will get caught and stopped feeding into his complex of "if there's no immediate reward what's the point?"

But why the hell would start by injuring students for funzies if he thinks at a moments notice he'll get caught? Why go on a monologue ab how the Great Seven secured their positions through wisdom and cunning and have the table of Dorm Leader's (besides Idia) rallying behind him if he thinks Crowley will just pull him aside and call him out??

The math ain't mathing.

But it will.

Some events in the chapter need to be reordered.

Jack should approach Leona and tell him about the students dropping like flies—I genuinely believe that Leona should've allowed some students in Savanaclaw to get injured, it looks suspicious if the only dorm not suffering from losses is the one that wants to win the most.

Leona should dismiss his concerns or imply that he'll start investigating the matter and when Jack leaves, cackle evilly with Ruggie to set up the chapter.

You could bump up the Meeting scene but I'd keep it where it is, why? Because Azul can say, "due to recent injuries, if you want to swap students out of your previous roster it will be an additional fee; submitting your Magift forms late will also cost you."

This would imply that the dorm leaders already put in their Registration Forms and the process of changing students can be difficult because the VIP guests, Newsbroadcasters, and scouts will have to be informed of the decision.

Again, that villain monologue Leona through it was insane work, like he was the only one praying on his downfall. So I propose a different monologue:

"Denying students the chance to be number one?"

"You expect Savanaclaw, founded off the Tenacity of the King of Beasts, to lay on our backs and let that monster stomp all over us and our dreams?"

"Magift isn't just about physical prowess. Technique, magic; that lizard only relies on two of those components."

This is Leona's complex talking bc Sebek says that Malleus summons mountains and thunder during Magift because it's all based on spectacle. Think of it is the U.A. Sports Festival in MHA, it's all about spectacle and showing off in an effort to get noticed, which emphasizes another point:

The whole reason Leona is even doing this is bc a part of him believes he owes his dorm members a win. He assumed the Dorm Head's position and since then has lost to Malleus and thus cutting down the opportunities his dorm students can get, thus saying he will never be a true king.

Again, I said that if the scenes were played out right it could've been subversive. We still don't know who would OB between Ruggie and Leona (exactly like Jamil and Kalim) because after the meeting two Blot splatters appear and Ruggie attacks two students.

A lot of people have even said Ruggie should've been the one to Overblot bc Cjapter 2 trivialize Leona's struggles with never being King, relegated to a spare heir who will never see the seat because Cheka is sitting there.

His magic is said to be the manifestations of his people's fears: drought, famine. It wasn't a Unique Magic he discovered like the rest of the OB group, he was born with it.

Imagine your first display of magic being met with disgust and horror while your brother's UM (discovered later in life) is met with praise.

Play it up!!!

Leona has a good grip on his magic but with Overblot let him melt some stairs! Let him dry out the air! Let him have a conversation with his Brother (over the phone/face to face) and turn a door handle to sand/leave a trail of sand in his wake!!!!!

Have students complain about the growing frequency of sandstorms at Savanaclaw, how dry the air feels, have Jack's cacti nearly die!!!!

Stand up Savanaclaw damn!!!!!!

2. How the characters were characterized in a way that you'd have to read the next chapter (or personal stories) to grasp the fundamentals of those characters.

JACK, FIGHT BACK

RUGGIE, STAND UP

LEONA, GET UPPPP!!!!

The Chapters are there to help sell a character, to make you roll for them and get you invested in their arcs and growth throughout the story.

So why in the hell....?

Lemme ask yall this: Who are your fave characters in twst? What attracted yall to them? What was your fave chapter? What characters stand out to you?

I've scoured the twst tags and I've noticed that Savanaclaw ranks lowest amongst the people. Or they are never properly characterized in headcanons/yumeships.

Ofc we can chalk it up to the rampant racism that is within twst—I've seen yall hcs of Savanaclaw being smelly and full of jocks as if these students don't have heightened senses and would probably be the cleanest dorm in Night Raven, beating out Pomefiore.

Or the fact that yall characterize Savanaclaw students as only violent despite the fact they are a martial artist dorm (which requires discipline) as well as a dorm that is the major contributor in Magical Shift leagues (which is like football, you need good grades to even touch HS football not to mention College Football).

But I digress on that—Savanaclaw isn't popular bcccc the chapter was asinine.

Like I said, you'd need to read the charas Personal Stories/Vignettes to get a grasp on them whilst other chapters and characters (besides Pomefiore, Rook, Vil, and Epel are hard as hell to grasp, I tried to do a case study on Rook and was sniped twice)

Personal stories are meant to expand on a character and their themes, yet that's all Leona, Ruggie, and Jack can rely on bc they were written with failure on the brain and defeat in the heart.

The way Savanaclaw should've gone was characterizing Leona.

Someone who has a dichotomous relationship with his family, friends, kingdom, and public perception, the weight of being the black sheep, the scapegoat, ostracized for a power he was born with to a point that he gives up. He's stuck in a cycle of hubris, self hatred, procrastination. He wants to be praised bc he was denied it for so long, stuck in the shadow of the golden child that is his brother, his chance to be accepted swept away by his nephew.

When he graduates he will have nothing to return to but upholding an image.

He is stuck.

That right there is grounds for a reasonable Overblot. Bc I'm sure anyone has felt those feelings before—played those roles before.

And somehow Savanaclaw fails to show that and Ruggie steals the spotlight.

Thing is, I'm not even against Ruggie Overblotting bc the hyenas do eat Scar at the end of the movie.

However.

As much as I fw Ruggie Obing, I'm trying to fix Savanaclaw lmaooooo.

Anyways, Ruggie also is stuck.

Born in poverty with possibly no prior education, he has no mother his father abandoning him and the only person raising his us his grandmother, it's been implied that Ruggie's been picking up odd jobs prior to Night Raven—meaning he's lied about his age and the rich simply did not care. Children in poverty grow up with adult eyes, wisened up to the world in an effort to survive before the hole that is poverty consumes them. Adults hold child eyes because "hope" is the only thing keeping them going, Ruggie knows that one day he will look to the world with "hope" so having Night Raven choose him out of all kids is his golden ticket, surrounding himself with rich kids, mooching as much as possible until he can live a comfortable life...

That's also grounds for Overblot, especially when you consider Leona throwing everything back at his face and nearly strangling him to death.

His golden ticket turning to dust before his eyes.

No wonder yall fw Ruggie Overblotting, that boy was putting in the legwork!!!!

Jack is objectively the most normal mf in the TWST cast, I see yall try so hard to project Trey as normal and it's laughable bc the dude who literally asked to be ignored is the sneakiest mf in the cast, beat out by Rook and Jade.

Like Jack is easily overshadowed in the chapter and after. Only working when hes bouncing off of another character which is crazy bc he's based off of a feral wolf that slowly gets domesticated through compassion and kindness (a reason why he easily warms up to Yuu) him being all about just actually could work in his (and Yuu's) favor when you consider the fact that Yuu is the most proactive (read: forced) in stopping fighting Overblots.

Yet his character is never truly explored, even in his vignettes. Which is crazy work bc, like I said in a previous post, when Jack assumes he's in the right when that Justice comes into play he will shake you down.

He does it with Leona, Ruggie, Azul. FLOYD AND JADE LEECH BOTH??? Like that boy is a force to be reckoned with and somehow,,,,,,

Like I'm grateful Portfest is giving Jack crumbs but this should've been implemented, especially if you're going to sell what is essentially an Original Character in a game that focuses on Disney villains...

Which brings me to Crowley, who is also an Original Character based off of a real person—Aleister Crowley. A real life occultist who was dubbed "the wickedest man in the world." And that mf has been the basis for so many theories, esp popular ones like him being behind Mickey's entrapment in the mirror (it's going platinum in my delusions lmaoo).

So,,, why the hell is Jack?? Getting the short end of the stick??? See where Yana messed up was not expanding on Jack, Ruggie, and Leona.

The entirety of October is dedicated to Magical Shift they have enough time to plan, revamp, and execute Leona's plan. I honestly wanted Leona to come down on Malleus like he did to Azul, and THEN recreate the scene where Mufasa dies.

Thus leading to my next point!:

And 3: How Leona's motivations were ruined because of how much his story ties into Scar's.

Gonna give a strict rundown on what happens in Savanaclaw before we begin unpacking what should be changed and why:

As we know Savanaclaw starts of with Ruggie snatching the cutlet using his UM who then gives it to Leona, and they talk about his status as second Prince. Skip to the Dorm Leader meeting—which is where things pick up for Leona before dropping off the side of a cliff— he explicitly is against Malleus being inducted into the Hall of Fame, rallying the other dorm leaders (Excluding Malleus, obvi) and Crowley concedes.

Ruggie then breaks two other students' bones before prancing off, leaving Yuu to be tasked with investigating the strange circumstances behind the injuries. In that time Trey gets hurt and so Adeuce, Cater, and Riddle investigate those injured and on the possible hitlist to be injured.

In that time Yuu is taught Magical Shift, a game that while on the surface seems focused on brute strength and force ends up being a strategic game that has flashy spells to Wow the crowd.

Jack later ends up listening in on Leona and Ruggie discussing further plans. Fast forward and Yuu and the Investigation troop find out crucial evidence that points to Savanaclaw, but with no solid information they can't fly off the handle.

Thus leading to the final showdown: Ruggie procures a performance enhancing potion and recreates the march that killed Mufasa but—oh? It's all Cater clones? Heartslabyul warned Diasomnia and the other dorms in advance? Leona gives up and Ruggie tries to knock sense into him? The Investigation troop and Lilia give him a stern talking to?

He Overblots.

This is a pretty frustrated retelling of the chapter but I want to reiterate that Savanaclaw is the SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE GAME and Leona only has a handful of scenes in the entire chapter, if I said he had 3 major scenes (EXCLUDING HIS OVERBLOT) you would assume I'm lying but 16-20 is a whole four episodes where he just ISNT THERE but you wanna know who is?

Ruggie and Jack.

I'm going to maul a small family and eat a couch.

It's not like Leona needs to show up to tell that his actions are harming everyone, other chapters have full on episodes where the Overblotee isn't there, however, it's that for everytime Leona isn't there Ruggie is—a sponge that soaks up and steals Leona's thunder and leads many to believe Ruggie is the one who should Overblot instead.

And the thing is, I want to say I don't care about how long Savanaclaw is because impactful storytelling doesn't need to bee stretched across say,,,,, 89 episodes but I can't lie, I believe many more people would rock with the Savanaclaw trio the way the rock with Octatrio if they had just a couple more episodes, a better vision and maybe coherent plot too.

But here are some things I'd change.

Emphasis on VIP guests, many royal families (especially Kingscholars) and scouts/recruiters. If Magift is supposed to be anything like College football it'd make sense that there would be an emphasis on recruiting and scouts as well as scholarship and internship opportunities. Savanaclaw is basically an all you can eat internship Hotspot, having Diasomnia usurp that means that internship/scholarship opportunities are becoming unevenly distributed

Sebek said that Malleus can summon mountains and thunder during Magift, meaning that Magift is about spectacle, which again harkens back to recruiters, internships, and scholarships. Magift is a big sport in NRC bc it showcases the overflowing potential and thus puts NRC in a position for more funding.

I mentioned VIP guests and royalty. Maybe Leona's brother is one of those guests? Maybe Cheka shows up? Maybe Falena attempts to reconnect with his brother through a sport he enjoys after years of being apart and nearly no contact? Maybe Cheka sneaks off more into NRC and is indentured into the Investigation Squad? Maybe Leona feels more pressure because not only is Malleus in line to be put on the throne but his Dorm might get washed in front of Falena and thus exacerbating his fears of being less than his brother? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

MORE 👏🏾 SCREENTIME👏🏾 FOR 👏🏾LEONA👏🏾 Have Leona have a dichotomous relationship with Ruggie, keep the audience on the feet and guessing who the hell will OB, I don't know ab twst en players but b4 the translations we had a TimeLoop theory and Leona Overblotting instead of (who we believed should've OBed) was essentially the golden puzzle piece when it came to those theories, entire theses and theories were built off the back of Leona OB being an error/change in the Timeline. Having the story alternate between those two? Twst jp theories wouldve carried over frr.

@/najmaviper already said this, but have Leona use his UM as a way to vent!!! Show that his grip is slowly loosening in the face of all these problems arising? Show that even with him learning to leash a UM that the pressure has his grip slipping!! That the divide between managing the innate magic he's been born with is growing thinner and its harder to grasp something that melds into a foundational problem!!!

Ruggie! Like I said society would advance just off principle of the Savanaclaw fake out! Make it look like Ruggie's gonna Overblot while also balancing the many reasons why Leona should OB as well!! Bc the hyenas ate Scar it would make sense thematically that Ruggie should also hold some burden of Overblot as Chap 6 said that it can have an area of effect and there have been instances of ppl OBing by proxy!!

Savanaclaw needs to be longer.

Now that we've gotten all of that out of the way. Here's my analysis for Savanaclaw.

Nature v Nurture—The Eternal Struggle of the Wild.

As we all know, the wilderness is a dangerous place to be in. To be vulnerable in the elements could very well cost you your life.

That is exactly why Jack London's White Fang, while not known, is still a profound body of work bc of the topic it tackles—The struggle of man v nature.

But we aren't talking about just the struggle of man v nature, we are talking about the struggle of man and nature, where animal and human begin and end and mix and blend.

It is through that that I present to you my analysis on Savanaclaw as a whole.

Leona, as we all know, had been ostracized and stuck in the shadow of his brother since the day he was born—this further exacerbated by the fact that not only are they born a decade a part (ten years apart) but their roles had already been decided.

Falena was destined to be king, and as such was whisked away into learning how to lead his country—to continue the reign of Kingscholars and make sure that balance and harmony would prosper in Afterglow Savannah.

Because of that, I believe that they never truly had a chance to bond—one always running away and the other always standing still; aimless.

It didn't help that Leona was a progidy, that his Unique Magic that he'd been born with essentially being a culmination of his people's fears— "I am your hunger, I am your thirst."

We know that when Scar had assumed the throne he'd allowed a disproportionate amount of hunting that led to food running scarce—I'd assume that Twst!Scar had such a devastating impact on Afterglow Savannah that droughts would forever be associated with him—I also believe that there is still an area of land in Afterglow Savannah that has yet to recover.

So, to be associated with someone who'd killed his brother for the throne, to be associated with droughts and famines, and to have a personality that wasn't favorable you could see now that Leona was doomed from the start.

Because it didn't just start with him being denied kingship—he was denied something essential.

Compassion. Attention. And love.

We can see that Leona doesn't yearn to be king, but rather he yearns for what he should've gotten as a child—recognition. Instead of his efforts being deemed less than his brother's by right of him being king and him being the spare what Leona really yearned for was to have that same attention on him.

Just for a moment.

And if I said that Leona's scar could've been borne from that want—that need to be doted on, to finally be free from his brother's shadow and not be compared to him would I be wrong?

Because at the core of it, what Leona was denied subsequently is what he begins to abhor. We see this when, despite many students of Night Raven coming to him when they face a problem, he actively avoids them. Despite his grades literally being a selling point at NRC you see him not trying at all to come to class. Despite him overseeing on of the most competitive sports in Twisted Wonderland, you see that he doesn't put in that same effort divided to Magift as he does his PE class (as seen in his PE vignette)

Because why strive for something that you know will not be given to you? Why put in effort that will be overlooked? Why do anything at all if there is nothing you can do?

But I wouldn't go as far as to say that Leona is entirely apathetic—moreso inert in his position in life. He was supposed to be the spare king, a thing to look forward to, but as of Cheka his role is now essentially moot. His achievements as a Magift player overshadowed by Malleus, who has been considered to be inducted into the Hall of Fame for his achievements—Something that Leona probably has already done and more but bc Malleus beats him out in sheer magic factor you can see why there'd be some bitterness in that.

He doesn't have to strive to be a king, but he wants to bc thats the closest he'll get to his brother and, in spite of his self sabotaging ways, ultimately have purpose in life.

I do not believe that Leona is lazy, but rather because he believes he has "no place" in life he finds himself meandering through it.

Savanaclaw is the best and worst that happened to him—because for a moment, he was separated from his title as second prince, for a moment he had a purpose.

Only to have it snatched away.

It's why I think that Malleus and Leona are direct parallels of each other at points. First v Second Prince, Treasured v Discarded, Fae v Beastmen.

Because the struggle of human v nature, the struggle of human nature, and the struggle of instinct are all things that have been written and talked about.

If Leona was raised better he'd be able to handle the disappointment, the dejection, and the shortcomings he faced. But that is an if scenario, and we know that if he were a better Beastmen he wouldn't have Overblotted.

However, for all his carefully crafted apathy we know that Leona still wants—we see that when he objects Crowley's proposal to induct Malleus into the Hall of Fame by arguing that everyone should have a chance to best him. Because to be in Savanaclaw is to have Tenacity, to claw for what you want regardless of birth order and predetermined circumstances.

In the end, we know that Leona has a competitive streak and clear cut goals—he wants to come out on top regardless of the odds.

And as we know, lions are group hunters, while reliant on their female counterparts male lions still have to hold their own.

The clear cut goal is—hunt and catch prey. There's nothing more and nothing less to be added.

And yet, his defeatist attitude always wins out in the end. A reality check that Leona had known since the beginning yet to hear it from the mouth of someone who, by virtue of being in Diasomnia and thus closer to Malleus (someone who would win by default), sends him over the edge.

Either way, even after his Over Blot I believe it's important to note that Leona does not truly change who he is fundamentally—its an act of defiance, because in the end he still gave it his all even if it was underhanded, even if it meant he'd possibly injure Malleus in the process.

In the end, after all those years spent being inert and constantly shifting gears to please that competitive streak in himself while also doing the bare minimum, he learns to go at his own pace.

He learns that he can't strive for a goal without truly, actively chasing after it. We see this in Chap 3 where he participates in Savanaclaw Magift training even mentioning that there is a RSA v NRC tournament coming up and that gives him the drive to train for it.

It might not be satisfactory, the fact that Leona hadn't drastically changed like Riddle and Vil had but it's a change that fits him. Because he'd lived his life wanting to have the odds play in his favor while actively sabotaging himself with his own defeatist mentality.

He doesn't change for the sake of changing, but rather he changes for himself and to make it easier to better 'hunt' for his goals.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Savanaclaw #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #dawgggg #do you know how long this mf had been sitting in the drafts just stewing?#this mf is my magnum opus #my great analysis that could put all my works to shame #i am god and this is my new testament #i really have become deranged yall this is it #Savanaclaw my beloved #This is the Savanaclaw manifesto i swear yall hop on the wave rnnnn

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thygoddessouijathicc · 1 year

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The Cursed Lizard Dave Fic I have been wanting to make for awhile

(Disclaimer: Dave is a lizard man. Haha funni. I’m sorry for this. Truly.)

It was a normal ass day in Five Nights at Dayshift world, and Jack couldn’t wait to put on his iron maiden fursuit and entertain annoying childs.

This day was as per usual, ruined quickly.

Jack kicked down the door to the door to the Saferoom. “SomeBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS MACARONI SO I TOOK A BITE OUT OF A TREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Jack loudly sings.

Orange Man KICKS DOWN DOOR, What Happens Next Will SHOCK YOU!!!!!!!!!

Jack finds his “total BFF” hunched in the corner, and he gets a VERY bad feeling. He cautiously approaches the man, ready to dart at any moment.

He notices that Dave is eating live beetles out of a Let’s potato chip bag and proceeds to do a Wojak face. VINE BOOM

Jack starts to emit a sonic screech and explode.

Dave is canvas flipped to be facing his booooooyfriiiiiiiiend hahahahahahahahahahahahaahaahahaahhahahaa

“Why hello there, Old Sport.” Dave says entirely normally as he continues to eat bugs.

Jack continues to grossly sob and vibrate.

“Are you ok Old Sport?”

“B-BUG EATERRRRRRR!” Jack yells.

“Oh sorry ):” Dave says “Did you want some I’m sorry for not offering.”

“And why u eating bugs?” Jack says while doing the laughing while crying emoji face.

“Bugs r tasty Old Sport :D” Dave says while default dancing at Jack.

Jack t poses to assert dominance and Dave a poses in order to show his submissiveness and breedability OwO

“Nu bugs are gross >:(“ Jack replies.

“HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH A THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Dave said calmly.

“Baka it’s not like I like you or anything!” Jack says, as he reads the script given to him by the fandom. He stares at us all in utter disappointment.

“I agree Old Sport, but we’re not arguing about if nuclear power is sustainable, we’re arguing about bugs.”

“FUCK BEES!” Jack says. “Also stop being disgusting you disgusting man thing.”

“That’s LIZARDIST! >:0” Davey yells and starts crying because his boyfriend is lizardist.

“Lmao cope.”

“:(((((((((((((((((“

“Ok fine I’ll stop being lizardist. That is mean and I respect my friends. And so should you kids! Remember boundaries are important!”

“Ok thanks Jacky-Wacky UwU” Dave says as he crawls up and down the walls. Jack ragdolls.

“You being a lizard is pretty based NGL.”

“OHMYGODDDD THANK U >v<“ Dave explodes and rotates. “CAN YOOOOU HELP MEEEEE 🥺🥺🥺”

“With what you sexy lizard fecker.” Jack says, biting his lip pornographically.

“My skin is shedding but the stuff on my hand won’t come offfffffff 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺”

“Ok lol” Jack says, degloving Dave’s hand.

“Thank youuuuu Sportsyyyyyyyyyy” Dave says, as he hits the griddy.

“I want your lizard bussy ✌️😩” Jack says while flopping on the ground like a fish.

“UwU what’s this?” Dave says while the name of rom for you is death.

Davey eats a whole plate of spaghetti while vibrating.

Jack does a pirate jig.

Dave’s lizard frills flare up and he hisses.

What the fuck is going on here?

I’m the narrator and even I’m confused.

Dave glitches out and walks in the air for a minute.

“You know I’ve always been really into anthro lizards 🤪🤪🤪😳😳😳🥵🥵🥵🥴🥴🥴💩💩💩👅👅👅🧶🧶🧶” Jack says as h livesey walks towards Dave.

“Really UwU?” Dave says in return as he is pinned against a wall.

The troglodyte mating ritual is a strange one.

Suddenly, everything explodes and everyone died they lived happily ever after the end.

(Note: Accurate depiction of being in the lizard Dave cult.)

#dsaf #dsaf old sport #dsaf jack #dsaf dave #dsaf davetrap #davesport #Lizard Dave Cult #LizardDaveCult #shitpost #dayshift at freddy's

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numbregrets · 3 months

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ｋｗｏｎｍｉｎｓｅｏ

kwon minseo is based on makoto kino from sailor moon. she is a 26 year old super human, pastry chef and uses she/her pronouns. she has the power of plant manipulation and electrokinesis.

penned by HARPER

reflection

face claim: kang mina sexuality: bisexual height: 5'6'' eye color: brown hair color: a reddish brunette piercings: n/a tattoos: n/a

attitude

positive traits: green-thumbed, protective, loyal, persistent, dedicated, alert, honorable, playful negative traits: impatient, hypocritical, boy-crazy, childish, aggressive, short-tempered green-thumbed, protective, loyal, likes: her plants, croissants, over-ear headphones, a killer playlist, the color green, wide-legged sweatpants, oversized jumpers, her lucky hair-tie, elaborate lunches, romance novels, video games dislikes: dressing formally, wearing anything but comfy shoes, being wrong, cheaters, being judged for her appearance, evil people, sour candy, embarrassing herself in front of cute people phobias: n/a hobbies: baking in excess, arranging floral displays, tending to her plants, getting overly obsessed with romantic novel love interests, crying over the notebook, going to the arcade with her friends, spending a concerning amount of time at the cafe, working on her dream wedding pinterest board, making her friends look at her dream wedding pinterest board, figure skating aesthetic: the crack of lightening as it strikes, the smell after it rains, the sound of a watering can and the dripping of moisture off of leaves, the scratching of ice skates against a frozen pond, the feeling of victory, the scent of fresh baked pastries

relations

mother: kwon soo (deceased) father: kwon minjun (deceased) pet(s): n/a

headcanons

ϟ minseo loves baking, absolutely loves it. she will bake in excess, every time, to always make sure there is more than enough to go around for everyone! her favorite treat to make is croissants, because she loves how versatile they are and how fun it is to roll them into shapes. ϟ she is almost never seen without her signature, rose earrings — a gift from her mother when she was a child, and a piece of her she will never let go of. ϟ minseo doesn’t work because she has to, her parents left her an inheritance that would leave her comfortable for the rest of her life, but she works because she is trying to put herself out there and meet as many people as she can. if she didn’t work, she likely would spend a lot more time at home than she should. ϟ minseo hasn’t told anyone about being a sailor scout, let alone about the powers she worked on when no one was watching… and she wonders if any of the other scouts have made their way to evermore, though she figures if they had, they’re doing the same as her; hiding. ϟ minseo knows the plane crash that killed her parents was a freak accident… but she can’t help jumping when she hears one flying overhead. thankfully, evermore doesn’t have an airport… and since she can’t leave, she doesn’t have to worry about flying anywhere. ϟ her plants are her babies; the loves of her literal life. her entire apartment is covered in them; they hand from the ceiling, their vines dangle from cabinets, she has the most intricate and fun-colored pots. gardening is a comfort for her, and the air in her apartment?? so clean. so nice to breathe in. ϟ being a sailor scout is one of the greatest honors, and minseo takes it INCREDIBLY seriously. she knows everything about her planet, and spends almost all of her free time (you know, when she isnt tending to her plants or baking out her ass) working on her skills. ϟ minseo is, alas, a hopeless romantic and a serial crusher. if kwon isn’t crushing, she’s dead, because even when she gets married (her ultimate dream, by the way)... she’ll still be crushing on her husband, and on celebrities, and on cute boys she sees on tiktok, and on random men who come into the cafe and smile when she gives them her change. kwon is a lover, and okay, she is a little boy crazy. OKAAAY, insanely boy crazy. ϟ minseo has recently realized she’s like… insanely good at figure skating. so, another hobby of hers is spending time at the frozen one ice rink and working on skills she has no business trying on her own. she hasn’t broken any bones… yet.

#& intro #death mention tw

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ari4nee · 3 months

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finally gna uploaded the rest🫡

Curse Me

Chapter 4:

The loud buzz of an alarm exploded through your room and jolted you awake. Another day, another sad routine of attending classes and then coming home to study in silence. Your nerves had finally begun to rest after a few days of successfully avoiding stepping foot in the Itadori household but things were becoming boring. And honestly, you were running out of excuses for why you couldn't tag along whenever they suggested his place to hang out.

At least today you had a genuine excuse not to tag along. It was the first day of a new class and you had a lot of catching up to do on course material. It wasn't common for students to join classes after the first two weeks of the year but it had turned out that you were missing a credit. In hopes that you wouldn't fall behind, the school placed you in some random elective. This wasn't the worst situation but the thought of doing a philosophy course overwhelmed you.

You were always particular about the courses on your schedule and the worst part about this one, was that it started at 8am. Even will a full nights rest, you we're by all means NOT a morning person. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, it took you a moment to fully wake up and lazily put yourself together. Hopefully no one would care if you wore sweats on campus. Honestly, you just couldn't be assed to put on a nicer outfit this early.

To be honest, not many university students took the early courses and the ones that did, often learned quickly to never do it again. The sun had risen just a few hours before and it now shined brightly against the damp grass. It was a nice morning. One that made you think of the happy summer memories often accompanied by Yuji.

The school buildings were divided by subjects which made navigating such a large campus easier. The infrastructure was old but extremely intricate and beautiful. There was a decent amount of people who often mistook the university for a private religious school due to the architecture.

You had walked up to a small building with the words 'philosophy' engraved on a sign out front. It was covered in green vines and the grass grew sporadically along the very used pathways. It was no secret judging by the look of the inside walls, that the arts programs were heavily underfunded. Great. Another small lecture hall with terrible recourses.

You roamed the winding halls of the ancient building until you stumbled upon a medium size room with words scribbled in chalk on the door. This must be the class. You took a breath and entered the room, shyly taking your place at the very back.

As the room steadily filled, you analyzed each person closely. One by one, making judgements based off of the appearance of your classmates and quietly hoping that no one would notice a new student. The first to enter was a girl with white hair divided into two braids. She wore a sly look on her face and seemed all too interested in herself. You mentally noted to avoid her just incase. The next person was a blonde boy who dressed overly tidy for an 8am lecture and a bored look plastered on his face.

So far no one seemed to notice a new addition to their numbers and made no attempt to greet you.

However, with each new face you begun to notice a pattern. It seemed like everyone entering this class was an older student. Almost like- No. You couldn't have. Your hands clammed up at the idea of having accidentally sat in on the wrong lecture. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety filled your body as you quickly fumbled with a worn out schedule. While too busy scanning the paper to see if you were indeed meant to be in 'room 304', you missed a pink fluff of hair enter and make their way to the back of the class as well.

You first heard him, but didn't take notice of the boy until he had sat down uncomfortably close to the seat you claimed. You messily folded the schedule back together after finding some relief and glanced at the person next to you. 'Who in their right mind chooses two chairs away from someone else in a class of seven people?'

The person beside you sported an all too familiar set of black tattoos mostly covered by Yuji's old ass red hoodie. Emotion was immediately wiped off your face as the realization set in.

The school had placed you in an upper year course and on top of that, Idatori's older brother just had to be in this class as well. 'I'm cursed.'

Sukuna peered at you for a moment through the sides of his bold maroon eyes. His gaze was sharp and you couldn't help but let out a breath when he readjusted his attention to the front of class.

The chair creaked as he leaned forward, attempting to get comfortable for the next two hours of the morning. Propping an elbow on the desk, he gently rested his chin in the palm of his hand. All without any acknowledgment to you, he closed his eyes and waited for the professor to begin.

You felt more comfortable looking at Sukuna when he had his eyes closed. You could freely appreciate how handsome he was without the burden of his intense glare's and mental walls. It almost felt vulnerable, like you were seeing a part of him with his guard down. Something that was entirely off limits for anyone. In this moment, you swore he looked almost peaceful.

His features were bold and his jawline looked exceptionally sharp from this angle. You watched as he clenched it and took a deep breath inwards. The tattoo's on his face highlighted every curve of his cheekbones. His plush lips parted ever so slightly before delicately rubbing them together; he probably didn't even notice he was doing it.

The more you looked at him the less you saw the resemblance to Yuji and more to what little memories you had of their father.

His bag was half open, weakly trying to support itself upwards against nothing. Inside sat a copy of a used old literature novel with a heavily cracked spine and yellow sticky notes popping out of the side. You couldn't see the title but by the look of the tattered binding, it must be good. You had never known Sukuna to be a reader but it was possible you had missed this detail while growing up.

All those times he had holed himself in his room in silence leaving you all wondering what he was doing. Was he reading?

Shoved beside the book was a pack of cigarettes. The lid having been opened and closed so often, it looked like it would fall off any moment. You contemplated greeting him but he hadn't acknowledged you yet, and it was likely to be met with hostility.

The classroom had been quiet up until this moment. Students shuffled to their seats attempting to shake the sleep before the professor had begun their lecture. But some had already woken up by a student who came in laughing way too loud. Satoru Gojo had been scrolling through the phone of a girl who stood beside him. You recognized her as Shoko, an upperclassman that came around once. She seemed defeated by pointless attempts to retrieve the device and let him have his fun.

As the two found their place in the middle row of the classroom, Satoru's cackles echoed through the room. "God! You're so downbad! You're lucky she likes you back because WHAT is this-". As he turned the screen to face her, Shoko took the opening to snatch her phone back and breathed a few quiet cuss words at him.

Satoru shrugged off Shoko's obscenities and reached into the air in order to stretch out his lanky body. His slender figure reminding you of a cat and the way they moved silently and delicately. Satoru cranked his head to the side letting out a soft groan. You couldn't tell that he had now noticed you because of the dark circular sunglasses that rarely ever left his face.

He paused for a moment then started to giggle, showing off his perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. "Heheheh - you're in this class too!", Gojo said softly while beckoning you over to take a seat beside him and Shoko.

He had insisted that he, as number one in the class, could help you pass with little effort. You glanced back at Sukuna who seemingly didn't care of your sudden change in seating arrangements; but as class begin, you couldn't help but feel as if someone was watching you.

Classes went on like this over the course of the week. You had become more comfortable with Satoru, eventually exchanging phone numbers and texting with each other often. Rarely about the course material.

Every morning, you'd take your place beside the white haired boy and pretend you couldn't feel Sukuna's eyes glued to the back of your head.

He watched silently as you grew familiar with Gojo. Gritting his teeth at the frequency to which you used his first name, or how you'd place your hand on his shoulder when laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

Yuji's words about Satoru played on repeat in his head, doing nothing more than bruise his ego.

"He likes you."

You watched Sukuna when you were sure he wouldn't notice your stares. He rarely payed attention in class, it was a miracle he held the second highest grades. There were many moments where you contemplated speaking to him. Wanting to ask him how he had been or if he wanted to join you and Yuji for a movie night, just like when you all were younger. But Satoru always kept you from doing so.

Your new friend always knew when to pull you away from your thoughts at just the right time.

Class ended early, giving you some time to study before Yuta's party later in the evening. Satoru had offered to accompany you since Shoko wasn't around and you happily agreed. Rarely ever finding yourself in a position where you could, or even wanted to say no to Satoru’s offers of carrying your bag and help you with notes.

The walk to your apartment was quick and the two of you settled down at the table to study. Satoru was never at a loss for words so the silence that fell upon the room was unusual. Something about being in your home made him anxious.

Much of the school population inaccurately pegged Satoru Gojo as a millionaire playboy. The schools very own Bruce Wayne, minus the cool batman archetype; but God knows he could be just as obnoxious.

Satoru came from a family of money but how his family gained their wealth, was a mystery to most. You could only imagine the kind of lifestyle Satoru had as a child to turn out so obsessed with being perfect. He lived and breathed being the best of the best, yet it never seemed to be for his own enjoyment.

As hard as he tried to mask the pain in his heart through flirting, he rarely ever actually let anyone in. His walls were built sturdy to protect whatever was left of the fragile heart he had accidentally entrusted to Geto. The more you got to know Satoru, the more you understood his gravitation towards hiding how things bothered him. Sometimes you could see a glimpse of the ache in his heart when a girl would snicker something inappropriate about him in the hallways.

As much of a ham Satoru Gojo could be, he seemed engulfed in a loneliness that could only appear in someone who carried heavy burdens.

Satoru pulled off his sunglasses and folded them down neatly. His long white eyelashes highlighted the bright blue eyes focused on your handwriting. He laughed a bit while he corrected the answers written on your paper, eventually reassuring you that you’d do great in this class.

Hours went by where you and Satoru shared flirty remarks and gentle touches in between doing work. Neither of you had noticed how long you had studied for until he glanced at his phone and noted the time as “7pm”. Yuta’s party had just started and it was time to go.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #big brother sukuna #jjk x reader

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