#in some ways its even more punishing than the original game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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the game part two

read part one here!

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, drug dealing, smut, dubcon at first, f receiving oral and handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of anal, cheating

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

it’s been six months, and you’ve mostly forgotten about your encounter with rafe cameron. you stole his drugs and his money, then hid out. you knew your brother would keep you safe until things died down, giving you ample money for your score, but not wanting to hear the details of how you got into the cameron household.

you rarely think of rafe, except when your pathetic boyfriend comes over to fuck you. he’s sweet, a nice boy, and you like him, but his cock, while average in size, is nothing like rafes, and you find yourself missing his length, craving the feeling of him stretching you out again, even if it was just that one time.

“i think i’m gonna head out on the boat today.” you hum to your brother, looking out the large modern windows of his mansion at the shining sun, making the ocean glitter as it reflects the light.

“mmm, fine. take security with you.” he says, barely looking up from whatever document he’s working on.

“oh come on, i’ll be fine by myself.” you roll your eyes. your brother became even more protective of you after what you did to rafe. he even encouraged you to stay with your boyfriend, who he originally didn’t like. you know that means only one thing, and your boyfriend is now in his pocket as well, probably tasked with your safety.

“baby sis, you stole from rafe cameron. he hasn’t forgotten that shit.” “and he won’t be looking for me out in the fucking ocean.” you roll your eyes, stomping away to put on your bikini as your brother yells, “i don’t care, security is going with you either way!”

you get yourself ready anyways, knowing you need some time away from everyone, including whoever of your brothers henchmen have the unfortunate task of taking you on the boat. you walk out to the dock alone, but one of the men is already out on the pier, standing waiting for you.

“hello.” you mumble, climbing onto the boat and getting it ready, untying it from the dock and turning on the engine, keeping it idling as you make sure you got your necessities, snacks, water bottles, and a towel in case you decide to take a dip.

“oh shit, i forgot a life vest, can you grab one of the other boat?” you ask the man, you think his name is james. or maybe henry. you can’t bother to remember.

“sure.” he climbs off the boat and the second both of his feet are on the wooden pier, you shoot into the drivers seat, gunning the speed and taking off away from the shore before he can stop you.

you don’t bother turning around as he shouts for you to come back. you feel a little guilty about whatever punishment your brother is going to give him, but it’s not like any of the dudes hanging around are good guys, after all they all work for a drug dealer.

you navigate the backwaters seamlessly, having grown up on the water. you head further towards the ocean, away from the grassy islands, letting all of your worries and troubles go as you keep the boat moving at max speed, letting the wind whip through your hair.

you curse when the boat suddenly slows down. you hadn’t even thought to check the gas before taking off, you know your brother usually keeps everything filled. you angle yourself towards a small island, letting the nose of the boat push into the sand, but its better than being stuck free floating.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face, checking all of the storage departments for extra gas, but of course theres none.

“just my luck.” you mumble to yourself, throwing yourself down on the seat. you can call your brother and have him, or more likely one of his goons, come and rescue you, but you still want some more alone time, so you shuck your coverup off and lay back, figuring you might get the best use of your time stuck by soaking up some rays.

you lay there for half an hour before you hear a boat engine. you’re in a pretty secluded area so it’s quite the surprise. you stand at the back of the boat and wave your arms, hoping whoever it is has some extra gas they can lend you.

the boat is blacked out, windows tinted dark so you can’t see what the driver looks like as the pull up to the sandbar jutting out of the water, also lodging the nose of their boat to hold them steady.

“hey! i ran out of gas.” you shout as the door opens.

“oh, sweetheart.” the voice has your body freezing up as rafe cameron steps into the light.

“ra-rafe.” you take a step back, legs bumping into the side of your boat. you have nowhere to go as he leaps from his boat to yours. “please don’t hurt me.”

“hurt you?” rafe questions, shaking his head as he steps closer. “hurt you like you hurt me? you used me.” rafe sounds almost hurt before the angry mask takes over his face again.

“i was forced to! my brother made me!” you explain, even though its a lie. it was completely your idea, but theres no way for rafe to know that.

“and you still went along with it. you could have told me, when you were in my house. i could have helped you. but instead, you let me fuck you. you let me inside your pussy. just to steal from me.”

rafe is now hovering directly over you, and you know from his smirk that he’s noticed your shaking body, and the way that you are staring up at him in fear.

“is that how much of a slut you are? you enjoy being whored out by your drug dealing brother?” rafe takes your chin in his hand, not being gentle at all as he tilts your head up to keep eye contact. “you certainly enjoyed bouncing on my dick.” “fuck you.” you try to pull your chin away, but rafe moves faster, shoving you down onto the sofa, the plastic material hot from baking in the sun.

“i won’t hurt you princess, no.” rafe hums, stopping you from squirming around my pressing his weight down even more. “in fact, since you love being a slut so much, i’m gonna fuck you.”

“rafe, please, no.” you whine as his hands grip your chest, ripping away the thin material of the bikini that was barely covering your tits to begin with. rafe ignores your pleas, dropping his head to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while his fingers pinch the other one.

“oh fuck.” you moan, legs widening and allowing rafes body to slot between. you press your hips up, seeking his body as you grind against him, upset that your body is betraying you as your pussy wettens the more rafe sucks and nips at your chest.

“see, this is exactly what i mean.” rafe laughs against your skin, biting the side of your breast and leaving teeth marks. “you were just saying no and now you’re grinding against me. such a little whore.” “please, i have a boyfriend.” you whimper as rafe sucks deep purple marks into your chest and neck, not caring that he’s leaving hickeys behind for anyone to see. he wants to claim you, mark you.

“does he fuck you good?” rafe asks, tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms, pulling them off of you to reveal your messy cunt. “is his cock as good as mine? what about his mouth?” rafe questions, dropping to his knees to the teak flooring, not needing to hold you down anymore, he knows you’re not going anywhere.

rafe buries his head in between your thighs, moaning when he gets a taste of you, what he missed so much since that one night all those months ago. his tongue laps over every inch of you except for your clit.

“can’t have you feel too good, baby.” rafe laughs, biting your thigh. “not when you stole from me.” “i’m sorry.” you whine, feeling tears pool in your eyes as you reach down and tug on rafes hair, pressing his face back into your cunt.

rafe eats you out greedily, tongue traversing over every inch of you that he can, moving between wide sweeping licks and fast rapid flicks of his tongue, still keeping away from your clit.

“oh my god!” you shout when his tongue prods against your hole, lifting your hips up off the seat, unable to keep yourself still as you place one hand on the back of his head, moving your hips and rubbing your pussy against his awaiting mouth.

“such a slut.” rafe laughs, his words vibrating through you as he finally finally moves up to your clit, sucking harshly at your bud, not caring that you’re screaming from the pleasure.

rafe closes his eyes, focus solely on your cunt as he brings two fingers to your entrance, plunging them into your hole as he attacks your clit, taking it between his teeth and tugging on the sensitive skin, making the tears now roll down your face.

“please, please let me cum!” you scream for rafe, your entire body shaking as your orgasm builds, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you as he doesn’t let off of your clit, sucking it between his lips as your orgasm hits you.

you cry out rafes name, body going taunt as you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as rafe slows his licks on your clit, moving down to lap around his fingers that are still shoved deep in your cunt.

“taste yourself.” rafe commands, moving so you can kiss him. you don’t hold back, taking rafes face in your hands as you kiss him, jutting your tongue up to lick the juices away from his mouth.

“my little slut.” rafe deepens the kiss, starting to thrust his fingers again.

“ra-rafe stop.” you try halfheartedly to push his hand away, “too sensitive.” “you think i give a shit?” rafe laughs, eyes roaming your chest, taking in the bruises dotting your tanned skin. “you stole from me, bitch.” “i’m sorry.” you cry out, knowing tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you can’t stop them, the pleasure is too overwhelming.

“show me how sorry you are by cumming on my fingers.” rafe says, increasing the speed that he’s moving. you moan despite your best judgment.

rafe is somehow able to stuff a third finger inside of your cunt, stretching you to almost painful levels. you thrash on the sofa, the harsh sun beating down on you. you almost forgot that you were on a boat in broad daylight, so wrapped up in rafe pleasuring you.

rafes lips slot around your nipple again, sucking it repeatedly as you arch your back to push your chest further into his mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the attention he’s giving you, so purely focused on your body.

“i thought about you.” you tell rafe, making him pick his head up to look you in the eye, but his fingers don’t slow. “i thought about you when he fucks me. i wished it was you.”

rafe smirks, twisting his hand so his thumb can rub at your clit while he finger fucks you. “i knew you’d miss my cock once you had it. you could have stayed and been my little slut, my personal fuck toy, but instead you had to steal my coke. do you know how much money you lost me?” “i said i was sorry.” you sob out.

“cum then.” rafe commands, and your orgasm builds rapidly, too quickly, and before you realize what’s happening, wetness is squirting from your cunt, soaking rafes hand and splashing onto the teak floorboards.

“holy fuck.” rafe groans, gripping his cock with his free hand, squeezing through his shorts to give himself some relief.

“st-stop.” you say weakly, and rafe finally listens and pulls his fingers out, pushing your legs wider to admire how pink your abused pussy now is, completely dripping in your juices.

“has he ever made you squirt?” “no, never.” you shake your head.

“it’s a shame.” rafe tsks. “i could have made you feel so good every day.” rafe stands up, glancing around the surrounding waterways, making sure there are still no boats around before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the muscles hidden beneath.

you are boneless on the couch, body completely relaxed and near numb from the orgasms rafe just pulled from you, but despite that you still feel your cunt pulse when rafe throws his shirt onto the ground, quickly unbuttoning his shorts as well and tugging them down along with his underwear, revealing the hard cock that you’ve missed so much.

“tell me you want this.” rafe commands, stroking his cock while keeping his eyes on you.

“i don’t.” you whimper, but your thighs clench together, watching the precum bead at the tip of rafes cock.

“you don’t want me to fuck you?” rafe asks. “but you’re such a slut, baby.” he coos mockingly.

“please, i have a boyf-”

“don’t mention him again.” rafe cuts you off. “unless you’d like for me to ruin your other hole as well that way no matter how he fucks you you’ll be thinking of me.” you whimper at the thought of rafe abusing your ass and keep your mouth shut.

“turn over.” rafe grabs your hip, forcing you to move on the couch. you place your knees on the cushion, letting rafe bend you over the back of the couch, your head hovering over the water below.

“gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be begging to come back home with me.” rafe says, hands slapping against your ass, making you yelp.

“such a pretty pussy, fuck.” rafe groans, throwing his head back as he pushes the tip of his cock against your entrance, not pushing in yet, wanting to prolong his teasing.

“please.” you beg, trying to push back onto his cock, but rafe grabs your hips and keeps you still.

“are you asking me to stop?” rafe questions. “or are you asking me to fuck you?”

“i don’t know.” you sob, gripping onto the plastic cushion the best that you can.

rafe hums, “that’s too bad.” and then thrusts forward, burying his cock completely in your cunt in one firm push.

“rafe!” you scream out, pussy clenching down, your walls being stretched by his length.

“no wonder i fell for your act, this is the best pussy i’ve ever felt.” rafe grunts out, snapping his forward, the skin of his thighs slapping against your bum.

“faster.” you moan, but rafe does the opposite and slows instead, keeping his thrusts deep but moving steady and deliberately, letting you feel everything as he takes in the squeeze of your cunt, the tightness of your pussy.

rafe grinds his hips against you, his cock making space for itself, pushing against your sweet spot that has you crying out, past the point of embarrassment about your noises.

“so good.” you moan, knowing that you’re drooling onto the couch.

“i know, baby.” rafe moans as well, pushing his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt, dripping with wetness and coating him.

“can tell how much you’re liking it.” rafe moves faster, hands tightening on your hips, certain to leave marks behind. “can feel you squeezing around me.”

you bury your head in the couch, relieved by the cool press against your forehead, pushing back against rafe, rocking your body backwards to the best of your abilities, your knees sweaty and sticking to the couch.

“need your cock.” you swallow the lump in your throat. “need it every day, please rafe, forgive me, i need you, i don’t care.”

“don’t care about your boyfriend? or your brother?” rafe questions.

“no.” you whine, “just care about your cock.”

rafe fucks you harder, somehow able to find more depth and space. “well, i guess you should have thought about that before stealing from me, slut. i’ll soak my cock in your cunt this once, but you won’t get it again.” “no, rafe, i need it!”

rafe bends over your back to whisper in your ear, “then you work for me now until you pay back what you lost me. you can steal coke from your brother to repay me and then suck my cock. once you’ve paid off your debts, i’ll start fucking you.”

“i’ll do anything.” you don’t even think about what he’s asking, you don’t care, you’d promise anything to keep getting fucked like this.

“i know, baby.” rafe hums, angling his hips so every time his cock presses in, it hits the most sensitive part inside of you.

rafe reaches one hand down, around your hip, to rub over your clit, placing two fingertips on top moving quickly, trying to get you to cum because he can’t last much longer.

“gonna cum inside of you.” rafe warns, and you whine, clit pulsing under his movements.

“fill me up.” you tell rafe, aching for his cum warming your insides.

rafe moans out your name repeatedly, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as it can go, letting his cum fill you up. at feeling his release, your orgasm pushes through your body, seeing stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, cunt fluttering around rafes cock, milking everything out of him that you can.

rafe slumps forward, his cock slipping out of you as you both collapse onto the couch, breathing heavily.

rafe grabs your waist and flips your position so you’re laying on top of him. you rest your head against his chest, letting out a low moan in appreciation as rafe strokes his hand over your hair.

“you mean what you said?” rafe asks, his hand not halting as it glides over the strands of your hair and then down your back.

“yes.” you whisper. you’ve felt far too cooped up these last six months. it’s not like you want to be a drug dealer, so hopefully once you settle your score with rafe and pay him back for what you stole, you’ll be able to absolve yourself from everything.

“then you’re coming home with me.” rafe says, helping you sit up.

“i-i can’t rafe.” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “i need to get back to my brother, i’m not even supposed to be out without security.”

“mmm, you’ll have to figure it out.” rafe shrugs. “you’re coming home with me to start sucking my cock like you promised.”

“okay.” you whisper, not having any energy to argue with rafe, looking down at your destroyed body, covered in bruises and soaked in sweat, cum dripping out of your pussy.

“hey.” rafe says, placing his fingers under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he presses a kiss against your lips, so unlike your other kisses, not devoid of passion but far sweeter, almost like he’s trying to comfort you despite what he just did to you, what he just made you agree to.

“come on.” rafe sighs, standing up. “put your bikini back on, we’re taking my boat.” “okay.” you stand, figuring it’s best now to just follow rafes instructions, not worrying about any consequences as you put your bikini back on, letting rafe help you off of your brothers boat and onto his own.

you take a seat at the back while rafe goes to the helm, watching the abandoned boat as you drive away, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.

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kelocitta · 1 year ago

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In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

#rain world #rw shipping #tagging that just cause this is explicitly about that even though I usually dont do shipping stuff #with that said i dont even think this particular interpretation of a possible dynamic needs to be romantic its just kinda #about companionship in general. companionship thats going to absolutely shred an already unstable slug emotionally but thats #the point. friendship and love in spite of the unavoidable ending #just noticed this is like 80% theme analysis and 20% 'these go together just trust me'#but also theyre both girls because i want them to and also because im channeling hornet from hollow knight #who made me so deeply ill that my rain world tags still havent outcompeted my Hk tags because i drew her so much. so so much.#hunter is hornet coded to me and artificer is like if angela and gebura from lc combined into a deeply fucked up ferret #also i did tag the poll because they kinda inspired this but also. i wasnt gonna put all this out here WITHOUT a readmore thats embarassing #but i guess this is propaganda for a ship already seen as popular but like... idk i think theres something to it even as someone #who did literally slap them together originally because they were both red slugcats i considered girls. predownpour so we didnt have anythi #anyway hi tag readers i have so much work to do im being bad by writing about gay slugs. i need to get myself together #its so late this might just be nonsense bwaaaaaaa

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ghosts-and-glory · 9 months ago

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Gonna be honest, no idea what that last asker was talking about when they said Narinder deserved purgatory more. The guy is messed up, don't get me wrong, but the sheep genocide was completely out of his control. There isn't even any evidence that he got locked up for anything other than inventing a way to revive followers!

Narinder is much more palatable than the bishops and the fandom tends to forget that making him pissy/angry all the time is actually pretty ooc (ESPECIALLY considering the time it took between updates). He liked you as a god, he was mad for a while as a follower, AND THEN HE SAID HE RESPECTED YOU AS A GOD BEFORE YOU EVEN FULLY FINISHED HIS QUEST LINE!

Tldr; Narinder isn't as bad as the bishops, torture is cringe unless it's character building :)

That cat spent a thousand years being punished, let him rest. He’s been punished for his betrayal, a thousand years of it. During the game his crime is trying to escape a prison that he would never be allowed out of. He’s given no opportunity to reform, no time to rest and no end in sight.

I do enjoy it when follower Narinder is a bitch, I just want him to be mean to me is that too much to ask?

I’m a chronic adhd rambler and I hate scrolling by long posts. More thoughts on Narinder under the cut.

I do think this bit of dialogue is telling.

If you resurrect he seems to imply that resurrection is what started him towards his betrayal. He points out specifically that that there are no other gods to stop you from playing with life and death, this action makes him see himself in The Lamb. His reaction to the funeral is more reserved. Maybe he’s disappointed, maybe he feels some level of relief that you wouldn’t repeat his actions, maybe a bit of both.

And there’s his dialogue after his defeat.

I was originally gonna say something about his murder dialogue but I got distracted by how fucked up he is. Narinder, baby, I know you’re the god of death but begging to die is not normal.

But yeah the point that he seems to respect the Lamb’s godhood kinda supports my game theory that the Lamb is more death than Narinder. At the end of his godhood Nari was corrupt, driven by revenge and power. Depending on your actions as the Lamb you are now either walking the same corrupt path as he did, respecting the natural order of life and granting rest, or a bit of both.

I do think its easiest to love Narinder out of all of the npcs in the game. Yeah okay he’s evil in that good tumbly sexler man kinda way but he’s also the character with the most content. He has the most dialogue, you meet with him the most, he’s got the hardest boss battle with unique mechanics. I get why he’s the fan favourite and why people like Narilamb, what gayer than being character foils? Nothing.

He’s my little meow meow and I’m mean to him cause I love him. Mwah.

#my post #cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #I want to pick apart these characters so much #spinning nari in my head #Nathan Drawfee said tumbly sexler man and I haven’t been the same since #ask

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cassandrasimplex · 1 year ago

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Listen, when I say, as an abuse survivor, that Astarion's storyline is written with care, delicacy, and profound understanding: Since I completed it a few days ago, which I found incredibly cathartic and fulfilling due to points of commonality with the nature and causes of my CPTSD, I've been sleeping 7-8 hours a night straight through (instead of 3-5 at a time), my resting heart rate has dropped almost 10 beats per minute, I've had zero nightmares (based not just on what I remember but also on how much I move and talk in my sleep), and my fitness tracker wants to know what I've been doing different lately and whether I can keep it up.

I don't expect this change to be permanent or even long-lasting, but not even months of therapy at a time have ever had a positive effect so strong my tracker picked up on it. Not even when I was in crisis mode and only able to sleep 2 or 3 hours a day was therapy able to improve my sleep and my well-being so immediately. Astarion's storyline from finding Cazador's prisoners to the final confrontation, which took me a bit over an hour, did. If you want to count all the narrative build-up to that climax that gave it meaning, call it six weeks' investment for such a dramatic improvement.

The idea that trauma-aware roleplay can help people with PTSD and especially CPTSD find short-term peace and even a long-term improvement in overall functioning and mental health isn't new to me. I stumbled across it on my own, unguided, 30+ years ago. It's a bit newer to most therapists, but it's an approach used in experiential therapy and some related strategies and had been studied for much longer before its incorporation in such toolkits. But BG3 isn't being sold as therapy; it's being sold as a fun video game to play in one's free time.

The thing about CPTSD and recovery from abuse in general is that you have to practice new ways of reacting to the world. Therapies like cognitive behavior therapy focus on helping the patient replace old, maladaptive patterns of thinking that helped them survive a traumatic situation but hinder functioning in safer environments with intentionally-created ones that would have been too dangerous to practice in the traumatic environment but are healthier and more supportive outside it. These patterns have to be practiced, though; it's not enough to just correct yourself once with a more affirming statement and wait for results. You have to do it over and over until it becomes your new default. And results matter. If practicing the new behavior or thought results in the kind of negative outcome it would have prompted in the original abusive situation, the effect is that the old, maladaptive pattern is reinforced instead: "See? I knew acting that way would be too dangerous. I knew thinking that way would just be lying to myself. I already know what's best. The way I've always behaved in order to survive is what serves to keep me safe."

Which is why Astarion's storyline is both so effective and so astonishingly well done. Over and over, you get the chance to reassure him that your friendship is not merely a set of opportunistic transactions, that you don't want to control him, that you see him as a person rather than a puppet or a tool, that he can refuse to manage your feelings for you or even outright hurt your feelings without being "punished" for it. You can comment out loud to him when you catch him being manipulative and tell him that's not how your friendship works while still accepting and supporting him as a person, as a friend. You can make your friendship with him an environment completely opposite in nature to his relationship with his abuser. You can teach him -- and, if you need it, yourself -- what a safe environment looks like. And you can teach him that his abuser's behavior was successful in an environment created specifically to reserve all power for the abuser, but doesn't serve as well outside that situation, to encourage him to find healthier ways of dealing with the world than the ones that were modelled for him within that trauma. (Am I projecting? Of course I'm projecting; that's precisely what makes roleplay such an effective tool. It's a natural human tendency that can be used to advantage.)

And somewhere in your psyche, if you're a person who needs to hear all that as much as Astarion does, your mind is taking note: "How I thought the whole world works was wrong. Only that one little part of the world worked that way. The world is much bigger than the limited environment that hurt me. There are better ways to live and be." The parts of the brain where trauma plants its deepest roots can't tell the difference between play and reality, between past and present. They can't tell the difference between "I can make a safer environment for this person in front of me" and "I can go back in time and make a safer environment for the person I used to be." (That's why so many abuse survivors feel compelled to help other abuse survivors -- empathy, yes, and identification, but on a deeper level than that; we try to become the person who never showed up to help us.)

And if "this person in front of me" happens to be a fictional character, well, it can't really tell the difference between fiction and reality either -- especially when the fiction has a visible face and an audible voice and convincing expression in both.

I'm not in the slightest saying, "Go out and buy BG3 to fix yourself!" because using roleplay as therapy is far too highly personal and variable to expect consistent results from a script. There might be people whose trauma is reinforced by the same things that spoke so soothingly to mine. Larian is a video game company, not a therapist. But I can't get over the way a video game company for fuck's sake has created such a sensitive, tender, supportive story that it can even accidentally function this way. They didn't have to go so hard. They didn't have to lean so far into empathy. They didn't have to bring so much realism into it. They could have just told an interesting story. They did tell an interesting story -- but someone here decided they needed to tell it so well, so powerfully, that they were going to need to know exactly what living through events like those would do to a person, and how a friend would have to act to support that person in working toward happiness and health.

Well fucking done, Larian. Extremely well fucking done.

And although I can't reasonably expect the current effects to last, I can carry something lasting from here on; I can add "What would I say to Astarion right now?" to the list of questions I ask myself when triggered, when I realize I'm experiencing an implicit flashback. What would I say to Astarion? What would I say to a friend? What would I say to someone I care about who's been through the same things I have? What would I say to myself if I thought I deserved to be happy and free?

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion #astarion ancunin #Larian #ptsd #complex ptsd #cptsd #child abuse #abuse survivor

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year ago

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Bubbles at the Fair

(Tommy Shelby x daughter reader)

Summary- What should have been a peaceful family fair trip still has that hint of Shelby Chaos..... John learns what happens giving Katie to the wrong man, Arthur tries to explain how Infants get fed, and Tommy leaves with a mouth tasting like soap. But hey, Y/N and Finn won't stop talking about the fun they've had.....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No it's as trigger warnings for this one really. There are mentions of an arranged marriage and we actually learn more about Tommy and Marie's relationship in the beginning and it's a bit angstyish, but the rest is mostly fluff! Oh and in one part Y/N does have to wash her mouth with soap but she's not being punished, I promise! Also remember this is prewar Tommy, so he's probably different (happier) than he usually is in cannon especially since he's with his daughter! Enjoy ❤️based off a real story ❤️

WC- 5.6K

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

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Birmingham 1912

Thomas Shelby held tightly to the rope he'd tied to his four year old daughter's pants.

Well, technically they were her uncle's pants, but none of her dresses had any loops and Tommy didn't want to lose her. The bouncy child had a habit of shooting off these days, ever since she'd learn to run, she'd see something that excited her and go directly for it. It didn't matter who else was in the way. There had been many a talk between father and daughter about not just taking off in a heavy crowd and the young girl seemed to understand. But Tommy was still a bit worried. Especially since there were so many people around now.

The sky was clear and the air was cool as it shown down on the edges of the land. It was almost June and the schools had just gotten out.

Not only that, but the fair had come to town.

Dozens of children and their families flocked to the usually empty plot of land, now decorated with small colorful tents and circus acts promising amazing excitements.

And the Shelby Family was no different.

All of them had decided to close the shop early for the day and visit the fun that seemed to have drawn everyone in the city to its colorful signs and entertaining games. Even Marie was in a good mood and decided to come along, chatting quietly with Martha who was carrying newborn Katie.

Lately, Tommy had noticed his wife had seemed to be come less content with the cards dealt to her. And while he still couldn't say he loved her (nor that she loved him) they'd seemed to find some sort of friendship for the in between, if only because of their daughter. And truthfully he couldn't blame her. It had been a one night stand that had turned into a shotgun marriage once her aunt and uncle found out why she was getting sick every morning. Originally from America, her aunt and uncle had made her stay with Tommy even after the baby was born. And while in the beginning she hadn't minded, their short lived lust still in full run, the thrill seemed to be over for her. Tommy knew Marie had begun to felt trapped by the result of that one night. And while he sympathized for her feeling the same way at time, he didn't like how her feelings lead her to treat their daughter. Everyone could see that Maria had begun to draw away from her daughter and resent the young girl almost. In the beginning she had seemed to fawn over the child just as much as her husband had, but when Y/N began to grow and cling to her father more, Maria slowly stepped back. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter. She did, but as the years past it got harder for her to ignore what her life could have been if she hadn't met Tommy that night. It was as if Y/N had become a reminder of where Marie's life could have gone and why she was stuck where she was. In a small, overcrowded house, surrounded by dirt and grime where few ever left. It certainly wasn't the life she'd planned when she came over to stay with her Aunt and Uncle for the summer, and her heart was beginning to feel more and more of its toll. She'd still let Y/N talk to her and grab her hand on the sidewalk when going to the park, but her responses had become shorter and park trips became less frequent. And the worst part about it was that little Y/N didn't seem to notice how her mother didn't smile as brightly at her drawings anymore. She didn't notice how her mother was always to busy too play tea party. She didn't notice how often her mother's side was empty, the nights she'd snuck into her parents bed. Y/N didn't notice her mother's hardening heart, but everyone else did.

Nevertheless, there were some days, like today, when Marie's heart warmed again, and she'd join the family on their outages, conversing with Polly or telling Arthur off for letting Y/N yell to loud. Those days were Y/N's favorites when both her parents were around and she was able to grab both their hands as they walked down the streets, chattering away about what she'd done with Finn. Sure, she could do that perfectly fine with her Father and Lizzie when they'd meet at the park. But for the four year old girl, there was just something special about being able to be near both of her parents, especially during the day when everyone was awake. After all, they were her parents. They were suppose to be the ones who loved her most right? So why shouldn't being around them be her favorite thing? The young girl loved nothing more than being around her family, even if it was only for a meal.

"Look Y/N there's a bear!"

Y/N squealed, turning to hug the speaking Finn as they both shook with excitement when the family passed under the colorful entrance sign. It was no surprise how close the pair was. Finn and Y/N might as well have been conjoined twins with how often they were together. Only separated by a couple months, the two had spent practically every moment together since Y/N was born. They even shared the same sleeping space as babies in the small room with Tommy and Marie. In fact, they were raised so closely Finn still had a habit of calling Tommy "Daddy" or "Da" often like Y/N did. After all, it was only natural he learn that since it's what everyone called Tommy when Y/N was around, seeing as he didn't want his daughter calling him by his name. And since Finn was always with Y/N he'd picked up on it too. Where Y/N went, Finn went, and where Finn caused trouble, Y/N was sure to follow. Almost always together, and always smiling with each other, the pair of four year olds were the light of the Shelby Family. And everyone was sure that in a few years, when Katie could walk, she'd be causing trouble right along with them. At his niece's joy, The four year old boy beamed, just as excited and he hugged onto his best friend. Finn didn't have a rope tied to his pants. Everyone knew he was less likely to run off and besides, there wasn't need for two ropes when Y/N was always holding on tightly to her Uncle some how. Be it the hand or shirt, Finn and her always had a grip on each other in some way when out in the streets. It was as if they weren't afraid of anything more than losing their other half.

"I see Finn! Daddy look! There's a bear! Ohh and there's a duck.... and there's a clown and there's that man eating fire and.. and... ahh there's so much..... Daddy it's loud."

Though she had been excited when she first saw everything, the crowd and the chaos immediately became a bit much for the young girl. Overwhelmed, she dropped her uncle's hand and stepped back until she ran into her father's legs. Still facing forward, eyes darting back and forth at the loud people and sights before her, Y/N reached behind her and tried to grab the fabric of her father's pants. She liked the fair and was still excited, but the sudden abundance of possible opportunities before her startled her a bit. She had no clue where to begin. It was a bit much.

Looking down, Tommy saw the look on Y/N face and knew she was at a bit of a loss. Reaching down, he began to run his fingers through her hair. But before he could bend down on one knee to speak to her, Finn had crashed into her, wrapping her in another hug that consisted of her, him, and the lower part of Tommy's legs. Unable to bend down Tommy could barely hear what Finn whispered to Y/N when he released the hug and grabbed her face forcing her look at him. Her cheeks were squished between his hands as he spoke with a determined look on his face. His best friend was nervous and Finn would do anything to fix that.

"Y/N. Hi Y/N! Look at me. It's Finn. Look at me."

Cheeks still squished between small hands, Y/N stared uncertainly at her favorite uncle before answering.

"...hi finn. It's kinda loud."

"Yeah but it's ok. It's ok. It's just noise."

"Just noise?"

"Yeah, like Pol bangs pans in the kitchen or Ada yells at Johnny for stealing her pillow. Or when Da says naughty words if he hits his hand on the door? Only noise. Like when Artie snores so loud Ada tries covering his head with a pillow so he can't make it any more."

Y/N smiled at her uncle's words, laughing quietly at the image of her aunt smothering her oldest uncle with a pillow.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Y/N smiled again and hugged her uncle closer for a minute more. The adults all watched in with small grins on their faces.

Then not moments later, the pair of children began to rock. Gently at first, nudging the other back and forth before, still clinging tightly to each other. Then their giggles began to grow and soon the children were twirling around in fast circles, trying to see who would fall first. It ended when they both tripped over Arthur's left foot and landed in a heap in the ground. Finn and Y/N stared at the others for a moment, blankly, before bursting into giggles again.

"All right twiddle de and twiddle dum. Ready to have some fun," Arthur chuckled as he dragged both children to their feet. Grinning eagerly at the eldest Shelby man, they both nodded.

"YESSSSS!"

"Alrighty then. Let's get to it!"

Grabbing each child in one arm, Arthur lifted them on to opposite arms and ran farther into the crowd, Y/N and Finn squealing as he speed up. The rest of the family laughed as they watched him run. John slid up by Tommy, Katie now snuggled in her father's arms as the women broke off to enjoy some time of their own without any scheming children.

"Which one do you think he's gonna drop first?"

Tommy looked a John with a raised eyebrow, his sticking arms out for his two month old niece. Adjusting the baby in his arms, Tommy was surprised at how even now, she was bigger than Y/N had been at three months. But then again, Y/N had been a month early. And Katie obviously got John's baby genes, weighing more than Finn and Y/N had combined. She was a squishy little thing full of baby rolls, burps, and love. Y/N had been so excited when she first met her cousin, eagerly stating that it was the cutest potato she'd ever seen. Martha nearly peed herself laughing when she heard, while John stood by the couch, mouth open in shock at the three (almost four) year old's audacity. From the pillow she was laying on in the her cousin's lap, two day old Katie had only stared wide eyed at the girl, while Finn dared squeeze her cheeks curiously. Now two months old, Katie made a sweet cooing sound from her uncle's arms as he tickled her belly slightly. Tommy smiled at her, before looking at John....his smile dropping. John realised it was a mistake to let Katie go. She was his only protection. With one arm, Tommy childishly shoved his brother back a few steps in retaliation, causing Katie to coo again as her Uncle laughed.

"Your Daddy's being silly isn't he Katie Kat?"

Rolling his eyes, but still chuckling himself, John stepped back towards Tommy, reaching his arms out for his daughter again.

"Ha ha, very funny, steal a man's baby and shove him while he's distracted by her singing huh? What kinda of example is that, ya shit uncle?"

Tommy only grinned at his brother and held the baby out of her father's reach. It was the same way John had done it when Y/N was this age. Now Tommy was finally able to get his retaliation. Thank you Martha for falling for his stupid brother's stupider pick up lines...

"It's a good one John Boy. Teaches her never to give up her greatest protection. If you hadn't given her to me, you wouldn't have that shit colored mud stain on your ass now. I bet Martha will find that real attractive won't she?"

Eyes wide, John spun in circles looking for the offending mark.... Only to find nothing as his brother started laughing again.

"Oh fuck you Tommy, I fucking outta-"

"What shove me? You wouldn't shove a man with a baby in his arms now would yah John boy?," Tommy grinned smugly, in the way only a big brother could. Holding up Katie and squishing her cheeks lightly he continued, "I mean you wouldn't want to knock this squishy potato now would you?"

Katie giggled and reached out her arms for her father, as she was bounced in her uncle's arms. Huffing, John rolled his eyes and stepped up to Tommy. Then as hard as he dared with his daughter's safety in mind.... John poked Tommy's shoulder aggressively as one could.

"You're a right ass you know that."

"Ada reminds me every day John Boy."

"Oi! Are you two ladies done making faces or are we gonna play some fucking...shit don't say that word tinys...or that one....Are you gonna play with us?"

Arthur had called over to his brothers from the bench he now sat on as Y/N and Finn crawled all over him. The first time he'd cursed, Arthur had remembered he wasn't suppose too around the kids, grabbed their heads and shoved them against his chest, one hand over each to muffle any more possible "naughty words" they might have heard. In protest at being restrained, Y/N and Finn struggled back to free themselves of Arthur's grasp, laughing as he playfully battered their attacks off.

"Yeah alright, just as soon as Tommy gives me my kid back."

"I was just trying to teach her a good lesson John. Ya know. Good uncle shit and all that." Tommy shrugged his shoulders and finally relinquished his niece.

Hearing mentions of her cousin, Y/N scrambled off of Arthur and over to John where she grabbed his knee in hopes he'd kneel down. He did, and soon Katie was laughing again while her cousin poked her belly the same way Y/N's father had only moments before. She talked eagerly to the baby who didn't understand a word being said.

"Are ya having fun Katie Kat? Are we gonna play some fair games?"

Katie just cooed (it was practically all she could do) and grabbed on to her cousin's finger. Tommy smiled down at his daughter and noticed something. There was a faint rim of chocolate around her mouth, and already he could tell the girl was bouncing more than usual. Looking over to the bench, Finn displayed the same traits.

"ARTHUR!? Did you already give them ice cream?"

Looking anywhere but his brother, Arthur stood up, swooping Finn onto his shoulder and started heading towards the games again.

"Ohh would you look at that! A line's forming! We better get there quick before it's too long shouldn't we Finny?"

Rolling his eyes at Arthur's antics, Tommy smirked and swooped Y/N up on his own shoulders. As long as John, well technically Katie, was besides her, Y/N would have no problem being carried. Especially if it was on her father's shoulders where she could see everything.

"Right then sweetheart, ready to beat Artie and Finny at darts?"

"Yeah!!! DARTS!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been an hour since the family had arrived at the fair and everything was going great. Tommy, John, and Arthur had all won a handful of prizes from a shooting game, as Finn, Katie, and Y/N cheered them on, clapping. Well, Katie clapped and cheered. Finn and Y/N just cheered, while taking turns with one another holding Katie as the other covered her ears from the shots. Luckily it was only pellet gun so it still didn't make too much noise. Against common sense and their promise to Polly, the older men had also given Y/N and Finn the chance to shoot the small pellet guns at the paper targets. Sitting in Arthur's lap, each child had been given the chance to pull the trigger while the older man aimed the pellet gun. The whole time Tommy was also telling them all the important parts of the gun and how to safely use it. Sure they'd definitely get chewed out for it later when Polly learned, but it was still fun to watch the children's faces light up as "they" hit the target like the older men they adored.

In addition to the shooting game, they'd also played a game involving rolling a bowling ball over a hill. This one was more fun for the kids, but Arthur's leg had ended up being a step stool for Y/N and Finn to stand on as they rolled the balls. After that the group stopped for another ice cream break. They bought three ice creams and split it between the five of them. Y/N wanted to feed Katie a small bit off her finger, but then Arthur ended up explaining why she was too young to eat any of it herself.

Why was Arthur the one to do it? Because John himself didn't know why, actually curious to try, and Tommy had run Finn to the bathroom. And so the slightly blushing man fumbled through explaining where her two month old cousin's food came from, hopefully in a way that wouldn't get Arthur hit by his brother, for his description of his sister in law if he accidentally brought up too many barn animals. Martha would kill him for doing that, and then Polly would start.

"Well Y/N, Katie doesn't eat like the rest of us. She doesn't got any teeth."

"Why? Did she loose them? I can help her find them if she wants."

"No, she didn't lose them they haven't come in yet. See, right now Katie gets her food from Martha."

"Oh because Martha makes her and John food at night. But John doesn't just eat Martha's food does he?"

"Well, actually Y/N, the stuff Martha makes isn't too ba... gaaaahh!" John opened his mouth, about to announce something that would absolutely get him wacked for saying to a four year old, but Arthur's foot on his heal stopped him.

"Ignore him tiny, the icecream has shot to his brain."

"Oh no! Does his eye hurt?"

"What?"

Y/N rocked on her feet as she stood on the bench to feel John's right eye.

"Sometimes when I eat icecream too fast it makes my eye hurt, and I go MY EYE! MY EYE!" She responded, holding her own eye for dramatic effect.

"What the fuck did you do to my kid?"

Appearing from the crowd again with not only Finn, but the women of the family, Tommy had arrived just in time to see his precious daughter grab her eye, call out for it, and fall into Arthur's lap. Seeing Finn return again, Y/N bounced up, and ran to him.

"FINNY! Guess what! Artie is telling me how Katie eats!"

Immediately, all heads shot to Arthur who seemed to shrink in his seat, aware that with the women around he'd have to tread more carefully.

"Yeah. Right. So it's like... well she doesn't have any teeth so she can't eat hard food like you or me right."

"Yeah! Artie said that she can only eat Martha's food! And Johnny said he likes it a lot too!"

Ada hid her face in Tommy's shoulder to muffle the laughter coming from her mouth, while Marie didn't even bother hiding her smirk as she supported Martha who was almost bent over laughing. Eighteen year old John looked anywhere but his Aunt's eyes.

"That's not true."

"Yes it it."

"Not it's not"

"YES IT IS!" Y/N stomped her foot glaring at her Uncle, not liking being called a liar.

"Fine!" John quickly relented, not wanting to start a yelling match he knew he'd loose. Y/N nodded her head before looking for Arthur to continue. Arthur just sputtered for a moment, not really sure how to continue or why he was the one answering. Aside from Finn, Arthur was probably the last one who should be answering this question. He was the least equipped, having no kids or tools of his own.

"Well....right. She only eats food from Martha. And Martha kinda...in a way... makes it for her."

"Ohh like a recipe. Does she get the stuff from the store like when Polly goes to buy bread?"

Arthur's face was a red as Katie's dress now.

"No no... ya see Y/N... she doesn't get it from the store, she just kinda...." Arthur gestured vaguely in the direction of the still laughing Martha's chest hoping that would've be enough to quell the girl's questions... It wasn't.

"That's Martha, Artie. Correct. You still haven't said where she gets the food from."

Arthur just groaned, wondering who he'd pissed off upstairs to deserve such humiliation. Y/N only smiled innocently, eager to hear her Uncle's words..... But Arthur gave up.

"Ya know what, why don't you ask her because I ain't telling ya. She's the one who makes it yeah? So she's the one who knows it best."

"OK!"

Skipping over to Martha, Y/N motioned for the eighteen year old girl to lean down so she could whisper in her ear, as if they hadn't been having the conversation in public only moments ago. Obliging, Martha bent down. It only took a few minutes for Martha to whisper in Y/N's ear before the four year old pulled back and looking wide eyed and pointing to Martha's chest.

"There?"

"Yep. It's pretty normal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like a bottle. Your mum probably did it too when you were a baby."

"Really?!" Y/N looked at her mother who just nodded in confirmation.

"You can... you can like have snacks wherever you go!"

The adults laughter at the child's innocent idea while, Arthur was just glad he didn't have to talk any more.

"But wait? Why did Uncle John say he...."

"Moving on!" Tommy put a hand over his daughter's mouth to keep her from opening that can of worms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright! I think we have time for one last game and then we have to go home alright?"

Y/N and Finn looked decisively at the booths around them, trying to decide what game to play. They'd gone around to most of the games already, but there were some they hadn't played yet. Over by the edge of the tents, Y/N noticed a small green one that seemed to have a pool of some sort underneath. Hoping there was maybe a fish she could see, she nudged to Finn and pointed over in that direction.

"Wanna do that one? It's got a tub so maybe we can get a fish! But you can't lick it this time ok."

Finn's eyes widened with excitement at the thought of a pet, while every adult present internally hoped it wouldn't be true.

"Ok! If we gets fish can we name him Jethro?"

"....I like that name, sure!"

Running over to the tent, the rest of the family followed, confused to where Finn had heard such a name. Though when they reached the tent, much to Y/N and Finn's disappointment, the tub wasn't filled with live fishy friends, nevertheless they were still excited to play. The tub was instead filled with toy rubber ducks. Tommy knew this game. It was incredibly simple, only requiring the user to pick up a duck with their hands and see what size prize they'd won. A easy game, it couldn't be any harder to get wrong, which is why it seemed perfect for the last game of the day. With something so simple it couldn't go wrong. The man running the game stood up and walked over to the group.

"Fancy a play? Everyone's a winner at the duck pond!"

"We wanna play! We wanna play!" Y/N and Finn cheered eagerly while Tommy handed over the money for each kid to play a round.

"Alright you know how to play? You get duck from the pond and whatever shape is on the bottom is the prize you get, understand?"

"Yes! Me and Finny played a game like this with our Aunt Ada once!" Y/N explained to the stranger, eager to start. She remembered having so much fun with it last autumn.

"Ok then. Start whenever you're ready."

Grinning at each-other and then their family behind them, Y/N and Finn faced the tub while Arthur gave a count down.

"Ready..... Set............GO!"

Finn immediately stuck his arm into the water and picked up a duck.

Y/N stuck her head in.

Somewhat horrified Tommy jumped for his daughter, intending to pull her head out, only now noticing how dirty the water was with its sickly green tint. John and Polly immediately started laughing, while Ada and Marie just stood in shock. Martha put her hand over mouth while Katie just gurgled happily at the water splashing her. Arthur gagged and pulled Finn back from the tub, who looked like he was about to do the same thing. Not that Y/N noticed of course. Her head was underwater.

Tommy had only just touched his daughter's shoulder when her head popped back up out of the water. She turned around dripping wet and proudly showing off the small yellow rubber duck, whose head was in her mouth.

Tommy didn't even give her the chance to spit out the duck before he picked her up and practically ran with her to the makeshift sink by the outhouses. Really it was a tub under a water pump, with a few bars of soap on a nearby stool. Placing her down firmly on her feet, Tommy grabbed the nearest soap bar and couched down by his daughter.

"Spit it out."

Confused as to why her father didn't seem happy she'd won, Y/N's brow pinched as she shook her head.

"Y/N spit the duck out now."

The four year old girl still shook her head. She'd won the duck, why did she have to give it back? Tommy's face grew stern and he took a tone he rarely did with the kids.

"Y/N spit the duck out NOW!"

Finally listening, Y/N finally pulled the rubber toy out of her mouth and pouted at her father. Tommy ignored it for now more concerned about the fact he'd seen a used cigarette butt in the water as he went to grab his child. Fuck, there were probably so many diseases in there she'd be dead by dawn. Who even allows such a filth game at a fucking fair, Tommy thought, especially without explaining how to play. Evidently the game was harder than he thought, and the standman should have made the rules more clear. Now his beloved daughter probably had the plague or something like it.

"Good, now open your mouth."

Again Y/N complied, only to be met with a small bar of soap being placed on her tongue as Tommy urgently tried to get whatever filth was in the water out of his daughter's mouth. Her nose wrinkled as the taste of soap covered her mouth and Y/N tried to hit her father's arm, knocking his scrubbing off her tongue. And though she hadn't been strong enough to do so, luckily a few moments later her father pulled out the soap. Refusing to close her mouth Y/N could feel the bubbles on her tongue and angrily tried to kick her (usually) beloved father. Tommy caught her leg, looking her in the eyes, and from his pocket pulled out a small flask with a thin green ribbon around the cap. It also had a few small flowers on top a train engine carved on the metal sides.

"Yeah yeah, I know it sucks and I'm sorry but it's almost over sweetheart. I'm gonna pour some of this in your mouth and then you're gonna close your mouth, but NOT swallow it. You're gonna shake your head and then spit it out. I repeat you WILL NOT swallow it, it's only to rinse your mouth."

The flask didn't contain alcohol. It was actually filled with juice, and he carried it around with him most times incase Y/N got thirsty on an outing. Polly and Marie had disapproved of him getting it for her, but Y/N have been delighted to receive the "small can" like she'd seen her father carry around. It had taken two months to find a jeweler willing to etch the odd design on it too, but it was worth Y/N's smile as she lit up seeing her gift, and began immediately talking about where the flower train could be going. He also carried one for Finn, but that one was currently in Arthur's jacket. It had also been etched, but with the image of the deer and turtles Finn liked to watch by the pond the family took picnics at occasionally.

"Y/N swish and spit it right now."

Narrowing her eyes, but knowing she had no other choice, Y/N stuck out her tongue letting her father pour a small amount of juice inside the mouth. Then after shaking her head twice she purposely spit the liquid back out.... right onto the toes of her father's feet. Crossing her arms, Y/N glared at her father wondering why he had to go and ruin a perfectly good day.

Tommy looked at his shoes and then back up to his daughter's hurt face. Shit. Taking his jacket off Tommy wrapped it tightly around the dripping Y/N, who now looked to be on the verge of tears. Wincing, Tommy realized that maybe he should have explained what he was doing first. Here she was, a thinking she's won a game, and he had to go and practically punish her for it. Tommy had never washed her mouth out with soap before, but he now remembered Polly half threatening to do it to him before, while Y/N sat playing on the floor. She probably didn't realize Tommy was just briefly panicking about her getting sick from whatever had been in the water.

"Y/N?"

The mentioned girl averted her gaze looking down at her feet as small sniffles began to come.

"Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry I just did that," Pulling his daughter closer, Tommy, fully on his knees now, gently placed a finger under her chin so she'd meet his eyes. Tommy's heart sank seeing the tears beginning to form. "I'm so so sorry I did that sweetheart, I was scared that you put your head in the water yeah? It's dirty and I'd don't want you to get sick."

"I ...I didn't... I didn't know that though."

Y/N looked to the side whimpering slightly as Tommy's hand came up to wipe away any remaining tears.

"I realize that sweetheart and I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to do that, and it surprised me yeah? I reacted badly and I'm sorry I didn't tell ya why I was doing it before I scrubbed your mouth. I promise it won't happen again yeah. Do you think you can forgive me sweetheart?"

It wasn't often Y/N was mad at Tommy, atleast not over big things. But it still didn't stop the pain in Tommy's heart everytime he made his daughter cry, even if he was mad at her for something else at the time. It hurt anytime he saw her cry, but knowing he'd been the cause made him feel that much worse. Staring at her father a bit longer, Y/N shuffled her feet and wrapped her father's jacket tighter around herself. Her father really did seem sorry and besides he'd never done anything like it before so maybe he was telling the truth.

"Do you promise you won't do it again?"

"Yes, Y/N, sweetheart I promise I won't do it again."

She dragged her feet in the ground for a bit, watching the mud seep in to her father's pants.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Time and time again, Tommy was often surprised by his sweet daughter's willingness to forgive and put the past behind her. It certainly wasn't a trait she'd gotten from his side of family. But then again, her and Finn always were a bit different. They were the family's chance to be raised better than the rest were. Especially since Arthur Sr. wasn't around anymore to cause the pain he always did. Maybe Y/N and Finn were a bit softer than the rest, but Tommy didn't think that was a bad thing. He didn't necessarily want the youngest two involved in the darker part of the growing family business. The one that meant he had to swap out his caps in the garage after work before coming inside to see the kids, lest they hurt themselves grabbing the blades sewn inside his usual one.

"Yeah it's ok Daddy. I'm not mad anymore. You said sorry."

Relieved he hadn't totally ruined his relationship with her, Tommy pulled his daughter close, not caring that his other clothes were getting wetter by the second. Y/N wrapped her arms around her father in response as they remained that way for a few minutes. Then Tommy let go and stood up, ready to rejoin the family.

"Wait!"

Looking back down to his daughter, Tommy saw that she was holding not only the duck, but the small bar of soap. Tommy chuckled.

"What love? Do you want to clean the duck before we go back?"

"Yes, help me please."

And so he did.

Tommy Shelby helped his four year old girl wash the small yellow duck, making her laugh with the terrible duck impressions he did. Tommy was much better at neighing like horses than quacking like a duck. Once finished, she dried the duck off with her father's coat and held it close to her chest.

"Alright? Now are we good to go," Tommy asked again. Y/N began to nod and then stopped. She smiled innocently, but Tommy recognised the look in her eye. Tommy thought his daughter had the face of an angel, but he couldn't quite deny the bit of devil in her angel eyes. That was the part she got from him. Y/N offered the small bar of soap to her father once more.

"I want you to try it."

Tommy's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Daddy, I want you to taste the soap since you made me try it. It's only fair."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn't have to try eating the soap. Besides the fact it was SOAP. But his daughter was right. He'd made her try it, and so logistically it was only fair if he did too. Damn himself for trying to teach her about taking responsibility for one's mistakes. Good parenting evidently had some drawbacks. Tilting his head, Tommy tried appealing to Y/N one more time.

"Are you sure I have to try it? It doesn't look too good."

Y/N shook her head.

"It's not. At ALL. That's why you can't swallow it. Now here."

Sighing in defeat, Tommy took the soap. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he did as his daughter asked. If only to teach her a lesson about making up for her mistakes. Lord knew he needed to get better about it himself, instead of ignoring them or making more problems to hide the small ones. Breaking off a small piece, he stuck it on his tongue, nose immediately wrinkling at the taste. Y/N's eyes never left his face, watching intently as he closed his mouth and rolled the soap around like it was a piece of candy. All of the sudden, Tommy inhaled though his nose and the piece of soap shot to the back of his mouth. Gagging, Tommy spit out the soap, grabbed the flask and desperately tried to swish out the taste.

"That is fucking disgusting....Don't tell Polly I said that word."

Y/N laughed at the small bubbles coming from her father's mouth with each spit. And despite the lingering taste it was enough to turn Tommy's own lips upwards. She clapped her hands at her father's problem, satisfied with the fate he'd been dealt. Rinsing his mouth one more time, Tommy straightened up again and brushed Y/N's hair back from her face before moving to fix his own too. Thankfully, no one else saw the dangerous gangster almost meet his end.... choking on a piece of soap.

"Now can we go back? You still haven't picked your prize yet sweetheart."

Y/N grabbed her father's hand and began to lead him back towards the booth.

"I know exactly what I want."

Hand in Hand, father and daughter walked back to the tent where their family was waiting. As they got closer, Tommy could hear Arthur threatening the vendor.

"When that little girl comes back you are going to give her whatever fucking prize her little heart desires, I don't care if it's the shirt off your fucking back, do you hear me? As far as she's concerned she won anything alright?"

Nodding fearfully, the game man accepted Arthur's words. Finn was the first to notice the pair's return, smiling wildly as he held his new stuffed deer.

"Y/N look what I won!"

Eagerly, Y/N raced over to Finn, lightly running her hand off the top of the soft stuffed animal.

"Finny he's so pretty!"

"I'm gonna let him sleep by my stuffed chicken I think."

"What's his name?"

"I'm naming his Deery because he's a deer."

"Ohh that's perfect!"

Eager to loose the threatening gaze of Arthur, the vendor cleared his throat nervously, gaining the attention of both children.

"If you like the deer you can have one too kid. You did win the game, so pick any prize you like."

Y/N looked to the pile of prizes the man displayed to the side of the tent. Turning over the duck in her hand she saw a circle which was a medium prize, the same size as Finn's deer. Pointing to the pile she looked at the vendor.

"My duck has a circle under it so I got to choose from there right?"

Arthur glared harder and Ada nudged him to tone it down a bit, but the vendor already noticed.

"Actually you can pick anything you see from the tent just like this lad did. You two are my best customers today, so you can have any prize you like. Even the big ones."

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

Y/N didn't even hesitate, beaming as like she told her father, she already knew exactly what she wanted. She stuck out her hand.

"Can I have this?"

"......You want the duck?" Tilting his head, the vendor was confused. He'd given the girl any choose of prize she wanted even the big ones, and she choose the rubber duck she'd grabbed..well bitten... from the water. Truthfully the man knew the ducks weren't the cleanest. He figured it didn't really matter about keeping them super clean when people only picked them up for a few seconds with their hands. The vendor had never seen anyone use their mouth to grab a duck. He'd have to put that in the rules now too. Y/N only grinned, holding the duck close to her chest.

"Yes please, I really like him. He's really cute and cuddly. My daddy already helped me clean him too. So can I keep him?

Still confused but not about to reject the sweet child the vendor conceded.

"Alright then girly. If you want the duck you can have the duck. Congratulations ... I think?"

Happily, Y/N bounced up and down, pleased with her duck. It fit perfectly in one hand and in her small pants pocket, which meant he could go with her everywhere. Racing back to Finn, Y/N was quick to show him her prize.

"Finny, LOOK! I got a rubber duck!"

"What is its name?"

"Ducklores, it's like Dolores but with duck!"

".....I like that! Do you think he wants to be friends with Deery?"

"YES! They can be BEST friends, Finny. Just like us!"

Eagerly the children dove into conversation over their new toys as the family walked back to the car. Despite a few bumps and bubbles it really had been a great day for the fair. Tommy's mouth still tasted like soap and he was holding the rope by Y/N's pants again but she didn't notice. She was far to distanced talking about the fun they'd had and showing off her duck to Katie. But Tommy didn't mind, because his daughter was smiling. And that's all he ever wanted. If the last thing Tommy saw was he daughter's smile, he knew he could die a happy man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N? Why did you stick your head in the water?"

"I thought it was like bobbing for Apples, Finny. But with ducks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

#tommy shelby x child reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

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acquired-stardust · 2 months ago

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Game Spotlight #16: Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories (2000)

Just in time to celebrate its upcoming release as part of Yu-Gi-Oh! The Early Years compilation, Ash takes a look at the very first title in the series released in the west with Dark Duel Stories, a quirky little game that remains surprisingly playable to this day. Come take a quick look at the game to know what you're in for when The Early Years releases later this year!

Yu-Gi-Oh! is a series that Larsa and I have a lot of affection and nostalgia for. Once upon a time we were even avid players of the physical card game (Larsa to much greater competitive success than I), and we've kept up with the series in all its various forms for most of our lives now. Binging the notoriously campy and hilarious English dub of the anime together was one of the first things we did as a couple, and when we started Acquired-Stardust it was a no-brainer to create some content in tribute to the series. That content even went on to become some of our most popular posts, so the series holds a special place in our hearts as well as in the history of the blog.

It's a fascinating series that has taken on a lot of different forms throughout the years and you might be surprised to learn that the iconic physical card game, now mostly known for its incredibly long first-turn combo plays that determine who wins and loses before you're even able to do much playing, wasn't even the original hook of the series. Yu-Gi-Oh! began life as a manga by the late Kazuki Takahashi, the story of a high school boy possessed by an ancient spirit that would punish Domino City's many bullies and thugs through the power of Shadow Games, dishing out Twilight Zone-esque ironic punishments to them, with the signature card game the series is so synonymous with only being played a total of twice in the first 60 chapters before becoming the main focus with the Duelest Kingdom arc which the anime most western fans are familiar is based on. It was a shockingly dark and violent manga especially compared to the camp that the series is more well known for.

Just as well, the physical real-world card game itself has undergone radical shifts in mechanics and formats over the years since its 1999 introduction, and the result is a series that means something different to everyone. If you poll a hundred people, odds are they'll all have a different bit of the franchise as their favorite and consider a different era to be its peak. Larsa and I are personally most fond of the early years of the series, and so playing some of the video games set in that awkward 'wild west, anything goes' time when they were learning and experimenting with exactly what they wanted the card game to be was a pretty intriguing prospect.

And make no mistake about it - Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories is very much in that early feeling-out period. So early in fact it released a mere two days before the Playstation classic Forbidden Memories and eleven days after the debut of the physical card game in America. Dark Duel Stories may have been the first Yu-Gi-Oh! game released in the west, but it's actually the third game in a Gameboy-specific series of Yu-Gi-Oh! titles (and has had its name swapped with its predecessor - whereas Dark Duel Stories is the name of the second title in Japan, this game was originally titled Tri-Holy God Advent in Japan). This series follows what I'll be calling the Gameboy Format for the game for the purpose of this piece, and for the most part it faithfully recreates the base mechanics of the physical card game (which we're assuming you have at least some level of familiarity with, but if not actually playing Dark Duel Stories yourself is a fine way to learn) with a number of key differences.

The first important difference in the Gameboy Format is its de-emphasis, but not total elimination, of Effect Monsters, Traps and Magic cards. Decks consist of a mandatory total of 40 cards, each with their own cost and level limit associated with them. Monster cards will make up the bulk of decks due to their low costs compared to the very costly Magic and Trap cards, necessitating clever usage of the game's largely weak lineup of Monster cards. Facilitating this is the biggest key difference between the traditional physical card game and the Gameboy Format in the much larger emphasis it places on the elemental typing of Monster cards, more inspired by the original manga's version of the card game. Each monster card in the game has an element associated with it (a total of eleven elements exist in the game), with the elements following a rock-paper-scissors sort of mechanic not unlike Pokemon that sees elements strong against one another (such as Water being strong against Fire) be able to inflict increased damage on their opposing element. Unlike Pokemon however, Yu-Gi-Oh's Gameboy Format sees Monster cards of an element weak to its diametrically opposed element outright destroyed before inflicting any potential lifepoint damage to players.

While this can (and will) lead to asinine scenarios in which the iconic Blue Eyes White Dragon card is destroyed by the meager Kuriboh, it adds an interesting layer of strategy to the game that goes beyond simply loading decks with the most powerful cards obtainable. It also stands in stark contrast to the physical card game in which setting up unbeatable scenarios with very little counterplay outside of hyper-specific scenarios on the first turn has become a hallmark.

Another aspect of the Gameboy Format that differs from the physical card game is the lack of Polymerization, a Magic card that enables the fusion of Monsters into a new and more powerful creature. While the Polymerization card is missing the fusion mechanic itself remains, relegated to an entirely unexplained process in which the player can attempt to combine any two monsters to potentially result in a successful fusion with getting the formula incorrect resulting in the first card being replaced by the second. It's small touches like this and the unique elemental system that promote a lot of experimentation and make sure that every Monster card has a potential use regardless of how weak they are statistically.

Players are given a deck of cards to start with and tasked with defeating three tiers of opponents, all of whom being an iconic characters from the manga and anime, five times each. Defeating opponents will earn the player more cards and card parts (more on this in a moment), as well as raising the deck level and cost limitations imposed on the player slowly but surely. There are a total of 800 obtainable cards in the game which can also be acquired through the usage of the Password system that allows players to add one of each card to their collection through entering the corresponding password associated with them. The Password system also allows players to unlock the game's hidden bosses as well as enabling additional post-duel drops indefinitely.

The game's main hook is its allowing of the player to create custom cards through combination of obtained card parts, with players able to combine top and bottom halves of original Monster cards in all sorts of ways that change their attack and defense values, elements, names and appearances. It's a small gimmick that the player is not necessarily required to interact with by any means but does help immerse you in the series by allowing you to create your own unique signature cards.

The end result of Dark Duel Stories' gameplay loop and format is a game that is perfectly suited for its handheld platform in all the best and worst ways. Its small, almost bite-sized duels go by rather quickly and painlessly but obtaining cards without the use of Passwords is a grind-heavy experience that leaves the player completely at the mercy of random chance. The costs associated with constructing decks can feel stifling at first but forces you to engage with the game and appreciate some of its eccentricities like the elemental system, and makes finally being able to include higher-value cards feel like the major upgrade in power that it really is.

It's a perfect fit with the Gameboy Color that allows you to sink however much time you want into it, grinding away to raise your level and cost limits or obtain cards on long road trips or just spending a few minutes beating Joey Wheeler or Seto Kaiba one more time.

Another strong aspect of the game is its art, faithfully adapting 800 cards from the game's early era to the Gameboy Color with a lot of success. Opposing duelists are also particularly strongly adapted, including a lot of (but unfortunately not all) the iconic characters one would expect to find in the game in impressive detail all without an over-reliance on digitizing existing artwork from the manga's original artist. The beautiful pixel art splash screens after selecting an opponent hold up extremely well and have my vote for some of the best visuals on the platform.

Not quite as strong is the sound, with songs being inoffensive and not super memorable but certainly serviceable - you won't be muting the game to protect your ears or anything, but turning on your own music instead might help with some of the grind if you're wanting to invest bigger chunks of time into obtaining Dark Duel Stories' large amount of cards or raising the limits imposed on your deck.

A small touch I greatly appreciated was the lack of manual saving, with Dark Duel Stories featuring a reliable autosave that happens after every duel, making rematching or putting the game down both a painless experience. One particular annoyance is the lack of a search function in the card library, so it's helpful to keep a guide on hand to reference individual card numbers you might be looking for rather than having to scroll through 800 cards manually.

While it's not a perfect game by any means, Dark Duel Stories remains a very fun and addictive time capsule of an era of the game now decades past and comes at an extremely early point in the existence of the physical card game and series at large. There's a lot of charm and a deceptive amount of depth to hook new and old players alike, and the gameplay remains smooth and fast all these years later despite obvious platform limitations.

It even allows players to link two Gameboy systems to duel or trade, though this will be less attractive a feature to people playing the game via emulation on PC which typically lacks the capabilities necessary for multiplayer functions. Original manga author Kazuki Takahashi constantly designed little games that appeared in the backs of compiled volumes of the manga, most often played with dice, and it's not surprising that he'd also come up with a very fun card game too even if this wasn't exactly the format we'd come to know in the years after the release of Dark Duel Stories.

A gem hidden among the stones, Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories is undoubtedly stardust.

-- Ash

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writterracoon · 6 months ago

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Hades 2

Lately, I've been a bit obsessed about Hades 2, I've been watching people play the test run , listening to compilations of interactions and scouring theories.

While doing all of that, I noticed something of a pattern, a theme that often came back and I think I may have found out one of the MAIN theme and conflict of the game and I've seen nobody talk about it yet, so here we go.

More under if you're not against being possibly spoiled.

I think one of the major themes of Hades 2 is going to be about Humanity and its complex relationship with the Gods, the way the gods treat mortals and the way mortals treat the gods.

here are my evidences

The interactions

the first thing that put me on this path was this interaction between Melinoe and Nemesis.

In this conversation, Nemesis and Melinoe are talking about Retribution and Justice and how Nemesis believes that Kronos taking over the underworld and challenging the Olympians may be what they deserve. Notice how Nemesis specifically mentions mortals and the Golden Age.

For those who don't know, in greek mythology the Golden Age was the first Era of Humanity and when Chronos was the ruler of the heavens. It was a time of peace and harmony for humanity where there existed no plague or famine, there was no need to work as they could simply pick their food from nature itself. They lived long lives, remaining youthful and died peacefully in their sleep.

Nemesis is I think trying to hint to Melinoe that maybe the situation is not exactly as black and white as it first seems and that humanity may have a bigger role in this than first thought.

A second interaction i want to bring to mind is about Moros and his relationship with mortals.

Here Moros admits that sometimes he because of was simply bored he would knowingly bring doom and pain to Mortals ending their lives painfully.

Archnea's interactions are also the strongest contenders for that theory, as they bring back that theme of divine cruelty, the gods view of mankind and how they callously treat them.

She has been wronged by the gods for the simple reason that she was better than them at something and they naturally couldn't stand it so they cursed her to live as a spider. She is filled with resentment for them and even warns Mel not to trust them. Also, note how she admits she fears the gods more than she fears Chronos.

2. Dora

Now Dora is a bit particular because we don't know much about her, but I have seen a theory and some interaction with Moros seem to be pointing toward it, which is that she might be Pandora, the original sinner of Greek mythology.

the myth of Pandora goes a bit like this: During the Golden Age, after Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gifted it to humanity, the gods decided to punish Prometheus by punishing humanity. They built Pandora, a woman beautiful beyond compare, and gave her a box full of the evils of the world. They then send her to seduce Epimetheus Prometheus's brother, who despite his brother's warning is promptly seduced by Pandora's beauty and welcomes her into his home. She then opened the box and released the evil of the world upon mankind, thus ending the Golden Age. Only hope stays inside the box.

Again if this is indeed true, it would follow the theme of the gods inflicting pain and suffering upon mankind for petty reasons, uncaring about the consequences of those actions.

3. Hades I

During the first game, many interactions points toward the gods general uncaring attitudes about mortals. Demeter thinks it was a mortal who stole her daughter away, so she decides that she will punish them all by starving them with an eternal winter. The other gods make almost mention of it only to say how much it annoys them.

4. Speculation

This part is not so much about evidences and more about speculations about the story of Hades 2 based upon my theory that mankind is going to be central in this tale.

The reason how Chronos is so powerfull, powerfull enough to free himself from Tartarus and claim the Underworld for himself, is that mortal were tired of being the gods' playthings and prayed to him, they prayed for his return, for the return of the golden age, where pain and suffering were unknown to them and the gods weren't using them for their own amusement.

The gods are going to have to deal with the fact that their poor treatment of humanity has consequences and those consequences are the return of Chronos and a second titonomachy.

Melinoe will propably have to face the fact that Chronos is wrong in challenging the gods and that the current status quo cannot be sustained any longer. The Olympian gods will have to change how they treat mankind if they wish to even have a stand a chance against chronos.

(TLDR, The Olympian gods have treated mankind like shit for a long time and now they are dealing with the consequences of those actions when the mortals are praying to Chronos to come back and restore back the golden Age where their lives weren't even half as awful. Melinoe will have to deal with the fact that her family might very well deserve what is happening to them and if she wishes to save them, the gods will have to change.)

#I taught of all of this under the shower #might do more if I find new interactions that support this theory #but im actually pretty proud of this one already #I think it would be thematically intersting if a story about gods ends being in the end about mankind and its struggles #Apollo bless me with your dodgeball #hades 2 #hades ii #Hades 2 theory #hades supergiant

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lopposting · 1 year ago

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On the "original" korean script

its pretty certain that LoP has been a smash hit, i really hope they go back and do a korean dub

I REALLY WANT TO SHARE THIS. i fell down the translation rabbit hole after looking for a specific translated version of pinocchio

so, Carlo is way franker in the original korean version.

taking this really important line in the game. In english, the line was translated to

"I don't care if an old man like that kicks the bucket!"

I feel like it's way harsher in the korean version. in korean it was

"그깟 늙은이, 죽어도 상관 안 해"

which to me is more like "That old geezer, he can die for all I care." (literal translation would be like.. "That oldie, don't care even if he dies") In korean it's not so much a one to one translation as it is different conjugations and grammar depending on respect and the speaker. he doesn't literally call him an "old shit" but "그깟 늙은이" is let's say, carlo being very flippant

(if there are any korean speakers, yall are probably better than me, if you can refute or confirm this plz lmk)!!

ALSO: I went and I checked the Riddler's phone calls and they do also rhyme in korean!!? imagine adapting all that!! That is such the translation feat!!

more translation notes:

Geppetto: In my own way, I grew to love you. After all, you're the puppet that would bring my son back to life.

The line in korean strikes me as more tragic.

"하지만 알아 다오, 나는 너도 사랑했단다. 내 아들 카를로를 되살려줄 인형으로"

eng (interpretation mine +google translate):

"But know this, I loved you too. You're the doll that would bring my son Carlo back to life."

(or save my son Carlo) confirming that geppetto did love Pino. just not enough.

그래도 부모는 자식을 기다려 주게 마련이지. 너같이 매를들어야 할 말썽꾸러기라도 말이다.

"Still, parents are bound to wait for their children. Even if it’s a troublemaker like you who deserves a beating."

in the english version, it was:

"Still, a father always looks after his children. Even naughty ones like you who deserve to be punished."

I think the english localization team took their own interpretation to adapt the story which is really cool to see. Like Geppetto keeps calling us his "good boy", there's no real equivalent to that in korean perhaps, but it's infantilizing and uncomfortable to an english audience (Pino may be young, but he's still a far cry from what we would call a "child"). plus there's that added BioShock inference for good measure

네 자유는 널 위한 게 아니다, 인형! Your freedom is not for you, puppet! (no mention of carlo)

in the english release, it was

Your freedom is not for you, but for Carlo!

interestingly, there is no mention of carlo in the korean version at some points where the english version mentions him, and sometimes Carlo is mentioned in the korean lines when the english version omits this. [edit note: it may have been because of test players comprehension of who exactly carlo was at this point in this story]

also, there is no difference between "doll" and "puppet" in korean as it is in english (as far as I know), and they use the word 인형 in the game where it was translated to "puppet" (when it would be generally translated to "doll"). In english, a "doll" indicates a toy generally for young children, while a puppet denotes a figure or figurine that is manipulated by a puppeteer. I really like that, it makes the setting even more story-book like

another note, carlo calling geppetto "old-ass" suggests that geppetto had him in his old age. In english "old man" is often an affectionate term for your father, so there's a difference there. in korean, i think carlo is simply insulting him LOL

[last of all, this is all just assuming that the script was originally in korean to begin with. ]

#lies of p #liesofp #lop #spoilers #lies of p spoilers #korean #theory #“but know this I loved you too” is destroying me #pinocchio #lies of p carlo

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chirpsythismorning · 10 months ago

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Fun fact: the shot of Mike stepping off the cliff in s1 was likely a visual parallel to Sarah jumping off the stairs in this shot from Labyrinth (1986).

For those that haven't read this theory, please do because I didn’t make these observations myself and the original post goes a lot deeper into the details from Labyrinth, which in some ways align a little too conveniently with the narrative we’re seeing unravel on the show with Mike over the seasons.

For some basic context, in s4, we even get a reference to M.C. Escher’s Relativity hanging on the wall in Mike’s room, which is also on the wall of Sarah’s bedroom, along with that work being what inspired the scene in Labyrinth.

This next part has actually been talked about before quite a bit in the fandom, even outside of tumblr, so it’s not exactly some breakthrough as a concept on its own.

Every season, in the first scene (re)introducing the main characters, Mike is running late in some capacity. In 1x01 it’s around 3 minutes, in 2x01 it’s around 6 minutes, in 3x01 it’s around 8 minutes, and in 4x01 it’s around 13 minutes.

So technically not the literal season opener, as that’s usually reserved to a flashback at some different location, but obviously still within those first 15 minutes, following directly after the opener…

And since we already have an idea of what the opening of s5 is going to be, what do we think the scene directly after it is going to be? You know, in the scene that Mike has been consistently running late in, for four seasons now?

Speaking of 15 minutes, I think that if they were to keep this trend going for the final season (the full circle-ness of it all is honestly too epic to pass up), it’s likely that this final time it will happen around the 15 minute mark of 5x01, as that would make the build up for it each season pretty consistent.

And not only that, but it would also literally be a callback to what Karen says to Mike that first time he’s late in s1:

And here’s my other favorite line from one of these scenes, in the context of this theory, because it literally acknowledges this concept directly and with this air of foreshadowing I cannot stress enough:

Interestingly, another detail that ties all these ‘Mike being late’ scenes together, is stairs.

In s1 he’s running up the stairs to convince his mom to let them keep playing.

In s2 he’s rushing down the stairs trying to avoid Nancy’s wrath.

In s3 he’s awkwardly bumping into strangers going down the escalator in Starcourt Mall.

And in s4 he’s hurrying down the stairs on his way to school.

The whole point of Labyrinth is that it’s an allegory for growing up, with Sarah going from dressing up as a princess to reenact one of her favorite fairytales after being chastised by her step-mom for not going on more dates like girls her age, to Sarah rejecting her childhood and it leading to an unfortunate series of events, forcing her to face reality and take responsibility of her own life.

Does this sound like anyone we know?

Mike, who starts the show in s1 playing DND animatedly with his friends before being interrupted by his mom to end the campaign despite protests, to his mom in s2 punishing his bad behavior by having him get rid of some of his favorite toys, to him in s3 insisting that they’re 'not kids anymore' and that it was inevitable for them to stop playing games and grow up and get girlfriends, to him now in s4 reverting back to this earlier version of himself, sporting the Hellfire shirt proudly, to then reverting back to pretending when showing up at the airport with Argyle calling his outfit a shitty knock off (aka calling Mike a shitty knock-off), and without the story ever acknowledging why those shifts happened in the first place, and with one season left?

Hint? Forced conformity. That’s what’s killing the kids. That’s the real monster.

They literally told us already that out of all the monster we've seen in the show, this is what is worse than all of that. Meaning that what is about to go down, most likely topping everything we've seen up to this point, is likely going to involve forced conformity.

I also think it’s interesting that the scene in Labyrinth happened during the climax of the film, because arguably if you were to watch Stranger Things in its entirety, from s1-5, the beginning of s5 is going to feel very much like the climax to the overall story.

Things are going to be happening fast. The stakes are insane because they need to top everything that they’ve done up to this point. Something’s gotta give. And Mike is just not looking safe out here guys.

I could go on and on about all the hints that Mike is danger, but I’ll just share my favorites.

How am I gonna survive a whole week without you guys? Mike says, at the tail end of his opening scene in s4, and with s5 set to start at the end of said week.

Mike sitting in front of an antique funeral home fan in the s4 promotional pictures of the party in the Creel attic.

Nancy saying she saw Mike die in the vision Vecna showed her, with the early stages of said vision coming true as season 4 nears its end.

Mike getting hit in the head with an arrow front and center by Suzie’s brother, in a sequence that was loaded with foreshadowing for the end of s4 (and beginning of s5?).

Watch out dominos. Your dominos are gonna fall. Argyle says, with Mike equally in the frame behind him.

Without heart, we’d all fall apart. Will says, after telling Mike he’s the heart.

A Karen lookalike standing in front of the missing person's board at the end of s4.

Mike’s very first line in the show (also the literal first line in the show) being A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you into the darkness. It is almost here…

So maybe, theoretically speaking, what we could get by that 15 minute mark going into s5, is Mike running late one last time, and it potentially being a callback to that cliff scene ie. Labyrinth.

Another scene that I think might've been foreshadowing what is currently going down, is Max and Mike both getting knocked out by Billy at the end of s3. Max goes down first and Mike follows right after, though Max is the first to come to and help them both up.

We know Max is unlikely to be separated from the rest of the characters the whole season, that’s just not feasible. She'll at least be on-screen despite maybe not being back with the others right away, even if it’s just a cryptic cliffhanger at the end of 5x01, followed by her returning more consistently on screen after that leading up to her rescue. With the way things ended in s4 though, we need to know where she’s at and get to finding her. Which is why I think at most it will be a 1-2 episode arc.

So maybe, this moment from s3 was a hint about Max and Mike’s impending doom at the hands of Vecna, as a result of not only their emotional states, but also their bonds with El, and them then being isolated for a short time (presumed dead), only to find their way back?

It’s also worth noting Mike was the only person to witness any of Max’s symptoms from the curse prior to her finding out about it, with the camera focusing on him beside her and looking at her worriedly as her nose bled. We don’t know who Vecna’s fourth victim was going to be, because Max threw herself in as bait, but could it have originally been Mike?

I know a lot of people don't like the Mike getting Vecna'd theories or Mike is depressed takes and so if you find yourself in that position, feel free to subtweet away or whatever you need to cope with my nonsense.

I'm not a big Mike is suicidal truther or anything even, nor do I think it makes sense for him to get Vecna'd in the traditional sense like how it happened with the others in s4 because the gates are open. But Vecna still hasn’t carried out his entire plan, a plan that includes Mike dying. And the imagery surrounding it all leading up to this is compelling regardless.

If one shot at the end of s3, with Max sitting in Billy's room while Hopper was in the background saying and yeah sometimes it's painful and sometimes it's sad was enough to hint at her whole depression arc in s4, then Mike being focused on for multiple shots while Hopper was in the background saying But, lately, I guess I've been feeling... distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something.-- And I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change, with Mike looking longingly at the Byers house, cutting to Will looking out the car window crying, then cutting back to Mike walking into his mom's arms with a dead stare on his face, has gotta be enough to justify dude going through some shit, which coincidentally matches up with everything talked about here.

Turns out getting to Mike, now that was the key…

Maybe the first episode of s5 is about Mike ending up wherever Max is, somewhere caught in between, and them ‘crawling’ back ie. The Crawl.

Definitely might add some context to that funkopop shot-listing video Ross posted, followed by one other photo a few days later with the caption being that they finished shot-listing for 5x01-5x02. Meaning the initial video posted was likely from 5x01...

#stranger things #mike wheeler #are they cool enough to pull this off?#remains to be seen #but why break a four season streak?#something something fifteen after #something something you’re late. again! we’re gonna miss the opening!#something something running up that hill and smalltown boy having almost the exact same fucking beat #also blankly staring at sadie and finn sitting close to each other in the s5 filming announcement pic #with finn being the only one out of all of them holding a script for the crawl 😀

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nyaagolor · 11 months ago

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Merry DL6mas!

I wrote an inordinate amnt of words about Edgeworth and MVK and dynamics and meta and w/e, stuck it below the cut so I don't obliterate ur dashes

So originally I wanted to make a relationship flowchart for all the characters and then realized that the amnt of caveats would make the image entirely text so I’m just forgoing the image altogether and doing this group by group starting with the VKs bc DL6mas and whatnot. It’s an essay and also unorganized so um. Have fun or apologies in advance?

Anyway. I think AA1 intending to be standalone and then getting these additional games does some fun things to the characters but especially for Manfred. I’m of the opinion that he was not created or written to be deep or nuanced or anything. He’s the final boss, we weren’t supposed to get more on him, he’s honestly just a symbolic representation of the forces Phoenix works against rather than a character in his own right (in AA1 at least). He’s cartoonishly evil and that was supposed to be it— and then we get JFA and Franziska and suddenly Manfred gets all this retroactive characterization as the story is built beyond its initial parameters. That’s part of the reason why I’m so interested in him— all this new information comes exclusively through other characters and insinuations rather than him actually being on screen up until Investigations and even then it’s like 4 lines. We get more on Manfred, yes, but it’s a shadow on the wall. I’m sorry to bring up allegory of the cave about the gay lawyer simulator but w/e I��m a melodramatist, it’s an allegory of the cave situation. The reason I bring that up is because I don’t really think about Manfred in the same way as other characters; I piece together how I think of him though his relationships and impact on others rather than as an independent dude. His past is inconsequential to me and the ppl who flesh him out are the real troopers but he matters to me more as a vessel for narrative themes than anything. This is all to say that everything I’m doing is conjecture and just kind of filling in the gaps based on my current understanding of the text. Headcanons for the broad and far-reaching audience of me, myself, and I.

That being said. The whole spiel I just went on about “Manfred as defined by his relation to others” works quite nicely as tie-in to how he feels about Edgeworth, because I think Edgeworth occupies this symbolic space in MVK’s mind. Yes, Edgeworth is a kid he mentors and who lives in his house and who he is legally responsible for, but Edgeworth is also this physical manifestation of his failures. Edgeworth is a child, yes, but to MVK he’s a ghost, a consequence, a punishment. He may not be a VK, but he IS karma (sound the turnabout melody I am kissing you on the lips for this line btw).

This also means that the way MVK views Edgeworth as an extension of his own thoughts about the DL6 incident rather than solely as his own person, which is something that changes pretty drastically over time. The way he talks about and to Edgeworth goes beyond who and what Edgeworth is as a person because for MVK, there was always an aspect of the self in there, and MVK interacting with Edgeworth is as much a reflection of his own identity as it is how he feels about Miles.

If there is one thing the entire VK family does extraordinarily well it's projection, and I think MVK has been doing this since he brought Edgeworth into the picture (and before that, but it’s only relevant to me now). This is personally how I rationalize how absolutely batshit half of MVK’s actions are. I know the actual reason is “we expanded the characters around him which necessitates certain actions to drive the plot and inconsistency results from this expansion” blah blah blah paratext more or less confirms this, but we are going full Watsonian in this bitch.

I have talked at length about the actual medical stuff around gunshots and how bullets are typically removed from joints specifically because of how badly they damage the surrounding tissues over time, I’ll link the post if anyone is curious, but tldr bullet wound symbolism. I bring this up now because I think the bullet acts as a physical representation for DL6, it literally and metaphorically tears him up inside. No one else knows about this murder, most people have forgotten the penalty, but he never did, because he can’t. For someone who has structured his entire self on the idea of perfection, this is an event of unprecedented magnitude, and the living proof of it is eating dinner at his table every night. MVK sits with the weight of what he’s done, and whether or not he feels justified or guilty or w/e doesn’t even matter because it’s making him lose his goddamn mind. His behavior gets more intense, more irrational, because before he was just a massive, scheming, paragon of perfection (and corruption but shh) but now he is in this inescapable cycle as the result of his choices and his choices exclusively. I don’t propose to know nor care about how he felt about it or what the specific emotions he felt were because they’re not particularly important in my mind, only that the lingering ghost of DL6 is driving MVK kinda bonkers and that drastically alters how he interacts with Edgeworth and Franziska.

I’ve seen a lot of debate about why MVK took in Edgeworth, but my hot take is that he actually doesn’t know. I don’t think MVK ever processed DL6, I think he is filled with contradictory feelings (how ironic) and that this is what eats at him through all those years. Why did he take in Edgeworth? Because he felt guilty? Because he wanted to train him into everything his father hated as a twisted kind of revenge? Because he wanted a prodigy and saw himself in Edgeworth? It’s all of them, it’s none of them, it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t know. Why did he prosecute Edgeworth right before the statute of limitations ended? Was it revenge? Hatred? A way to test his prodigy? To project his own gnawing nest of emotions onto the person he felt embodied the incident? Same deal. (the real answer is that it doesn’t really matter bc we were not supposed to think about it this hard but. Shh. dw about it.)

I don’t take much interest into Manfred’s inner world because I ultimately think that a lot of his actions, while completely under his control, are him acting on impulse, on him doing irrational things because DL6, in a sense, killed him too. He comes out of that elevator a different person (not worse (can’t go down from rock bottom), not better, just a different kind of asshole), but destroyed from the inside out by a murder he committed. He’s so arrogant, so entitled, that he could never let this go, and I think that drives so much of the insane shit he tries to pull. He has centered his life around the axis of DL6 and he will always be pulled back into its orbit. The further we get from DL6 the more time he has to think, the more it tears him apart, the more the contradictory feelings about it rear their heads in turn and create this guy who is just desperate and angry. And when it’s days before the statute of limitations he just becomes completely subsumed by it all. He was always cruel, but now he’s cruel and desperate and completely willing to drag everyone down with him. The desperation is the important part.

I will say though that he is, irrefutably, his own downfall. He molded Edgeworth in his own image, he created Phoenix Wright the defense attorney as a consequence, and it is the two of them who send him to his death. He is the one who planned the murder of Turnabout Goodbyes. From beginning to end, it’s his own hand. Manfred is one of the only characters in this series whose actions are not precedented by extenuating circumstances. It’s allllll him. He’s the bitch. He has been and will always be a selfish prick and for as much as he is lashing out because of DL6 he does so by dragging others in.

Extremely long prelude to say that I think how he treats edgeworth varies so wildly over time and is so irrational in its presentation because of everything I mentioned before. He is Edgeworth’s greatest kindness and his worst nightmare— at the same time!! Multitasking king. He takes in Edgeworth as a snap decision for reasons he doesn’t entirely understand, and I think because of that he never quite views Edgeworth as a son (at least in the traditional sense). Edgeworth is not his child in the same way that Franziska is his child (and we will get to her in a different post I promise), but he’s not just some random kid either. Manfred is emotionally tied to him through DL6, and I think the fact colors the way that Manfred treats him. It’s a dynamic that I can’t really put a label on, because it’s mentor/student with so much extra baggage that it feels different than that. There is an emotional connection between them, a sense of atonement and revenge, and I don’t think either of them will ever be able to articulate what that means. Manfred does not address Edgeworth as his child, and I think there is an attempt in his language to distance himself from Edgeworth, but he finds himself drawn to Edgeworth all the same (bc Edgeworth is DL6 etc etc). He did not ask for a child, he does not WANT a child, but he has one! Get fucked!

MVK is obsessed with his own image, with this idea of perfection, and insofar as Edgeworth is DL6, Edgeworth is an extension of MVK. He pushes his ideals and tactics onto Edgeworth the second Edgeworth decides he wants to be a prosecutor, because even more than Franziska, Edgeworth is MVK’s living legacy. He is quite literally Manfred’s midlife crisis and I think Edgeworth wanting to be like him and becoming this Demon Prosecutor is this insanely fucked up kind of catharsis in MVK’s mind. And as Edgeworth becomes more like him, as he takes up MVK’s mantle, he becomes a mirror— that is where shit gets fun. I don’t think I need to spell out the ways in which MVK was simultaneously caring and cruel to his kids— you’ve seen Sound the Turnabout Melody, you’re seen Turnabout Goodbyes, we know this song and dance.

The more time Edgeworth spends around him, as Edgeworth reflects more of Manfred back at himself, MVK simultaneously becomes proud and revolted. Edgeworth is growing beyond the consequences of DL6 and into a mirror of his adopted father figure mentor person. He is, from the ashes of DL6, becoming Manfred von Karma, and I think that drives MVK insane. He is becoming firmly entrenched in MVK’s life at this point. For as much as Edgeworth is DL6, he is now MVK himself. He becomes a walking contradiction, and Manfred’s projection then manifests as this rapidly oscillating clusterfuck of reactions. Edgeworth is out of his control but he’s super important to MVK— recipe for disaster.

He builds Edgeworth up, teaches him everything he knows, starts to treat him like a son while at the same time irrevocably traumatizing for the rest of his life. He loves who Edgeworth is becoming while hating everything he stands for, and I think this absolute garbage pile of a child-rearing philosophy is as much a projection of himself as anything. It was never about Edgeworth the person. At first, MVK does not care in the slightest about Miles Edgeworth and it is only when he does, even a little bit, that shit hits the fan in my mind. Edgeworth the physical manifestation of DL6 is being overtaken by Edgeworth the Demon Prosecutor, and MVK starts to be proud of him— but this is an eventuality he did not plan for and cannot do anything about. For both of them, it’s personal now, and no amount of pushing each other away is really going to fix that.

Anyway I don’t think literally any of this was intended. Manfred is not this deep, I am making literally all of this up, but it’s fine. If you got this far I salute you. Miles time. To pivot to Edgeworth’s POV for a while, I think that from the very beginning, Edgeworth looked up to MVK. It’s not the same idolization that Franziska does, but it’s up there. Obviously he idolized his father, but DL6 not only served as a complete evisceration of his family but also his ideals. Gregory the man was dead, but if criminals can kill his father and get away with it, that collapses the foundation on which Miles built his understanding of justice. Gregory the defense attorney– his ideals, his legacy, his philosophy– he died in that elevator too. Edgeworth pivots, completely independently, from a man who wants to protect to a man who wants to punish (and I firmly believe that this was his own decision and not Manfred pushing him into it, if MVK had not adopted him he still would have become a prosecutor just not so much of a dick).

But so Manfred takes him in, and was spectacularly ill-equipped to handle this. I always saw Manfred as emotionally distant on the best of days (he’s born in the 50s what did u expect) but for Miles, who he barely considers a son at all, he isn’t capable of being the emotional support he needs. He never would be and never wanted to be. That’s layer one of baggage. What MVK does provide for Miles, though, is a purpose. Miles does not wallow in his father’s death, because he is taken in by someone who acts as a paragon of Miles’ new worldview. Manfred never lets a criminal get away. He is perfect in that way, and it gives Miles a tangible (albeit impossible) goal to strive for. MVK mentors him in this worldview and gives him the tools to outlet his grief and rage into something productive— fucked up and wrong, maybe, but productive. That’s layer two of baggage.

For as complicated and twisted and contradictory as MVK’s feelings towards Edgeworth are, Edgeworth for most of his childhood sees MVK as this pillar of everything that is good and treats him with intense amounts of respect. He accepts any cruelty as tough love, he adopts his ideals and his tactics and his suit. Edgeworth needed *something* after the grief of DL6 and MVK is what he got, so Miles latches on and never lets go, for better or for worse. Miles Edgeworth is not Manfred von Karma but he actively tries to take his shape because whether or not it’s reciprocated, Edgeworth loves him and everything that he stands for. Manfred cares about him in that respect at the very least. And ultimately, this is my big take on Edgeworth: I think Edgeworth actively chased MVK. He became MVK on purpose. It’s a result of trauma and built entirely on false pretenses, but Miles is the one who takes the initiative and Manfred indulges him— And then Turnabout Goodbyes happens.

Everything Edgeworth is, everything he made himself become, is wrong. Edgeworth has molded himself into a person he does not recognize and that person turned out to be a monster. The person Edgeworth idolized, respected, and maybe even loved is the very person who destroyed his life. He is wearing the skin of the monster he wanted to destroy, and he did it on purpose (in his mind). This is not to say he had much if any agency in this situation— this is not a path he would naturally take, this is structured entirely under false pretenses, and he was clouded by grief, traumatized, and most importantly nine, but what matters here is that Edgeworth FEELS like it’s his fault, and the complete collapse of his worldview AGAIN is what drives all the bullshit of RFTA. Edgeworth is not MVK (and you can tell because he is capable of self-reflection which MVK is ostensibly not (or at least unwilling to)), but it still drives him to this complete and utter devastation. He sees Manfred in himself and it isn’t until AAI1/2 that he’s able to see Gregory as well. MVK filled a need for Edgeworth at the lowest point in his life (and absolutely made him worse but that’s not the point). Edgeworth respected and loved Manfred’s ideals, STILL chases the idea of the man, and because of that still cares about him. He becomes aware of who the monster he loved is, and how has to reconcile with what it means to be that person’s reflection and legacy despite knowing— and feeling, and BEING— all the harm he caused.

Those contradictory feelings that I talked about earlier? Love and hatred all mixed together— questions that cannot be answered and actions taken without knowing why? That’s Edgeworth’s final gift from Manfred: he inherits the bullet and the legacy he carries forward. Unlike Manfred, though, Edgeworth takes that pain and shares it, lets other people in, scoffs at the veneer of perfection and allows himself to be hurt and vulnerable and it is only in that way that Edgeworth can break out of VK’s shadow and break the cycle. He holds onto the ideals that he learned from Manfred, separates them from the nastiness and acknowledges the place they came from. It’s obvious in the way that Edgeworth carries aspects of that legacy forward that he’s capable of disseminating everything that Manfred is, acknowledging the way he’s been influenced by him and what he still respects about the man despite it all, and make peace with the rest of it. The cycle of violence and corruption started with Manfred and Edgeworth makes sure that it ends with him too.

I have a ton more to talk about with respect to his teaching methods and the nitty gritty of how he interacts with his kids but that’s for the Fran post. This is more of the “whys” than the “hows�� but I’ll get there :)

Anyway, I think that’s it. I’m sure there’s more that I’m missing but my head is beyond empty rn and I can’t think of anything else I wanna talk about with respect to these two. I know I literally just spewed 3k words about into this textpost but I do love chatting about them (total shock I know) so if u also have thoughts or ideas abt anything related to them lmk :3

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #manfred von karma #mod vex #long post #meta

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ash-rigby · 11 months ago

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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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