#i slaved away on that meme. my wrist hurts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goblinshork · 3 years

Note

Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door.

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

170 notes · View notes

original-fuzzywool · 3 years

Photo

Martina is about the nicest wife anyone can imagine. I am told by friends and family all of the time what a sweetie she is and how lucky I am. We all have our surface personalities and for my wife Martina hers is sweet and nice. She is that way 99% of the time. That 1% of the time, typically happens when she has a paddle or cane in her hand. I am the only one to gets to “experience” the 1% Martina.

We are a typically kinky couple playing with bondage and spanking and dominating each other. We play games to see who will be “The Slave” the next weekend and half the time, we are both trying to lose. For the last six months or so, things have been shifting to Martina being more the dominant. I’d say the transition happened about a year ago when we started playing with Chastity.

I had been following some Chastity Blogs and had sort of been addicted to a few that pumped out daily Chastity Memes. One day I showed her some of them on my laptop. While we went through them, she shivered with excitement on some of them. It was like a whole new world with new ideas and concepts had opened up. She asked me to save the “good ones”. Every week or two, she would snuggle up next to me on the couch if I had my laptop and say, “Lets look at what is new in the chastity world”. We would go through the new meme’s I had collected and some of her favorite older ones. This activity almost always ended the same way. She would talk about keeping me locked up. She would say she was going to lock me up for a month and then decide to add another month. Or she would tell me that Chastity was going to be my new normal and she would be the queen of my world. Then things would boil over and a few minutes later we would be undressed and making love.

We did actually get a chastity belt (or 5 while we experimented with fit, longevity and security) a year ago. It is definitely a part of our lives; I am belted 2-3 times each month. Typically for 1-3 days while she teases me or we have something to do and she wants me focused. Of course I’m belted the 4 days a month that her body tells her, “Belt Him, he is useless”.

While Martina talks a great chastity game and loves the ideas behind the meme’s she is a disappointing keyholder for long term. And I am fine with that. She always asks if I am ok or if it hurts. I can tell after she asks she realizes she made a mistake, she really wants to be a harsh keyholder. We have had a few good runs but the longest I was ever in chastity was after a required 4 days because of her monthly cycle, she was going away for the weekend. She really wanted me belted but had to make sure about 5 times that it was ok with me to wait for her return. I was belted for 6 days and nights and after a year of chastity games that is the longest I have ever been belted.

Our fetish area’s extend beyond bondage. I have a MAJOR wool and sweater fetish. I beg her to wear thick and fuzzy sweaters and buy them for her all the time. Last Spring it was too warm for a big sweater and we were going to a BBQ on Sunday. It was overcast and I begged her to wear a sweater. She finally agreed when I offered to put the chastity belt on for a week if she would do it. I was only locked for 5 days, but that opened the door for similar deals.

One time I wanted to buy myself a very expensive thickly knitted turtleneck sweater and I had to ask because it was so expensive. She told me that when the package arrived, I had to go in the chastity belt and stay a day for every 10 dollars the sweater cost. Then I told her the sweater was $270 dollars so that would be 27 days. She asked if I still wanted the sweater. I hesitated for a whole day. Then I told her that I want the sweater and we ordered it. She was so excited when it arrived. I have to admit getting a new sweater is a very sexual experience for me and having it in a chastity belt was very frustrating. It was fun, and it was probably very fun for me because after 6 days she got the keys and said “Get that big sweater on and get the belt off and come to mama”. The following days she was very disappointed in herself for not going the 27 days. That was sort of typical for the first year of Chastity. She was a fun key holder but not like the women on the meme’s that got her so excited.

Lately we have been doing the memes even more and she has shown interest in the anal training memes. She asked if it was true that a man can cum from anal. We looked it up and it’s true. She wanted to know if a man could cum from anal while in chastity and we looked it up and it looks true too. She thought that was very hot. She asked me about my experience had I ever….. I had to disappoint her that I had never tried anal and only a few times worn a butt plug for a short time. Based on this interest, once she had me locked up for a day and used a dildo on my behind and while it felt weird and maybe a little bit good, I didn’t cum nor did I feel like I ever would. Still it became a fantasy for meme time.

She had several meme fantasies that always got her going probably number 1 was “I’m adding an extra month because you tried to get me to unlock you” At some point I realized that this was exciting to her because I never really asked her to let me out. I certainly never begged. She almost always ran to get the keys the instant I suggested we make love. Her number 2 favorite was the “Hey welcome to vacation, by the way, I left your keys at home” She loved that one. The 3rd one was probably a tie between “This is your new lifestyle get used to it” and “I am going to train you to cum from anal so I never have to unlock you”.

It was last Spring and I have some time off in June, So I booked a 4 day weekend in late May at a resort. I selected the resort for two reasons. 1) They have a killer golf course and I could play golf all day while Martina hangs at the pool or spa 2) The room had two bedrooms both with big cast iron beds. We can sleep in one room and set the other one up as a bondage room. Maybe she will even leave me tied up all night like she did once at another resort.

I emailed her the reservation and expected to get MEGA points for being a great husband. Instead I got “Golf really? What if I keep you in chastity all weekend. Can you still play golf? Do you still want to go there?” I had to reply that I have played golf in chastity at least a dozen times and while I don’t love it, I still enjoy the game and if she wants me to play golf in chastity, I am happy to oblige. And of course, I took the chance in my reply to tell her the evenings in May are cool enough for sweaters and I offered to pack some for her. (knowing I would pack much thicker fuzzier sweaters than she likes)

We made the booking and for the next six weeks before the trip she would look at me and say “Gee I hope I don’t forget to pack the chastity keys for our trip” and then she would shudder with excitement. I would counter with you won’t be able to reach the keys because I’m keeping you chained to the extra bedroom the entire weekend, gagged and diapers so you know you won’t be getting unchained. She would shudder at that too.

Saturday Night the week before the trip I was teasing her about keeping her in bondage for 4 days. She sat up straight and said, “I’ve got a serious issue with this trip. I’m worried that the first night we are going to have a furious night in bed and just drain all of our energy for sex and then I’m going to be in the condo and at the pool for 3 days board out of my mind while YOU are on a golf vacation.” I assured her that would not happen. She thought “Monday Morning put on your chastity belt and give me the keys, I want you good and horny by Thursday Night when we check in and I want to decide when it comes off.” I replied that keyholders always decide when it comes off (Even though we both knew this wasn’t really true) and I thought the idea was really effing hot. Finished by saying “So you are ordering me into chastity, I like it”

Thursday was stressful while we packed for 4 days of fun. We had two large bags I packed that were very heavy and all they had in them was chains, locks handcuffs, collars, dildoes, gags, paddles a whip, a cane six thick fuzzy sweaters of both male and female variety. We had a little fight but that was normal and the car ride was enjoyable. We talked about sex once, but I changed the subject because my “interest” was causing pain due to the chastity belt confinement. She figured it out and we had normal conversation.

We arrived at 8pm just before sunset. We decide to quickly get everything from the car to the top floor condo and make drinks to watch the sunset on the deck. We didn’t unpack but tossed bags into rooms and the golf clubs in the hallway. She was on the deck as I walked up with the drinks. She looked so happy. We watched the sunset and decided to make more drinks. This time she said “I’ll make the drinks and a snack. You go unpack the playroom, the deck will cool off so you better come back with some sweaters. I want you in that thick black cable turtleneck and I’d like you to pick for me the sweater that you would most like to make love to me in while I wear it. Ya know, old fashioned sweater sex.

She went to make the drinks and I went to unpack, I knew I had time because she was cooking a snack. So, I unpacked and set up the corners of the bed with chains and laid out wrist and ankle cuffs along with locks and keys neatly organized on the bed. I had brought a thick fuzzy pink turtleneck for her and I selected that for her to wear. When I came out she was just finishing the drinks and I was walking slightly bent over with short steps. All the excitement and my chastity belt where really starting to hurt me. I was too excited.

She was just finishing the drinks and saw the pink sweater. “oh you really want to fuck me tonight don’t you” I handed her the sweater with a wince. She noticed, “Trouble down under?” I shrugged and said, “Someone locked me in a chastity belt and I can’t even get a hard on when I see my beautiful wife”. She giggled and we went outside.

I sat down, it really wasn’t cold enough for these sweaters, I thought. She didn’t sit down instead something inside her snapped. She was jumping up and down, she was giggling and started to say out loud, “I did it, I did it!” and it got louder until she leaned over the balcony and yelled to the world “I DID IT” and someone on a deck below yelled back “Congratulations”. That embarrassed her and she shut up and sat down. Red faced and looking so “sweater sexy” she looked at me and said “I did it, I am so proud of myself, this is a wonderful feeling, I didn’t think I could do it, But this feels great, I am so happy” I asked if she quit her job or something. She looked deep at me and said “I forgot your chastity keys at home” then she made quotes with her fingers and said “Forgot” and laughed and laughed. “I really did it. Now we are going to experience that Chastity vacation together and I did it!”

She saw me wince again. All dressed up for sweater sex and no place to go…. I knew I was now going to be belted until at least Tuesday Night when we got home and that would be a new record of 8 days. For reasons that are not logical, this caused my member to be uncontrolled in it’s desire to achieve full status, I was getting 100% excited and I could not stop it. Some part of me loved this.

The next day playing Golf in Chastity was tough. Partly because I didn’t remember how tough chastity golf was and partly because Marina had waited till our 3rd drink then chained me spread eagle to the play bed, with just my sweater and chastity belt on. She then pulled out a stack of adult diapers we only used for extreme long bondage sessions and put on one me. She kissed me and said she wanted to sleep in the king bed alone tonight and assured me I would be unchained in time for my tee time. When you sleep chained spread eagle, you wake up sore. My golf game suffered.

Friday was warm and when I returned, I begged her to wear a sweater to dinner. She declined but said that maybe she would wear one for breakfast because cooler air was moving in. I started to beg, with my stuff locked up, sweater play was my only play. She stopped me and said: “I’ve already experienced the absolute joy of “forgetting” your keys” do you really want me to experience the joy of adding weeks to your chastity sentence on only our first full day of vacation? .... Do Ya?” I put my head down submissively, lowered my eyes and shook my head no. She put her hand on my head and said, “Oh I like how this works”

Saturday my tee time was not till 10am, we planned to eat breakfast together at 8am. I woke up sore. I was once again chained and diapered all night. It was 7:50 and she was ready for breakfast and unchaining my locks on the play bed. She said, “sorry I didn’t get you up earlier but you looked so peaceful sleeping all tied up, we both have to hurry to get ready.” I got up and went into the bathroom to change. I came out at 8AM and I started to get my golf stuff in the room together. I heard her from the hallway. “I’m going down to get a table and a mimosa. Don’t be too long.”

I was probably taking too long, it had probably been 10 minutes. That is when my phone buzzed and it was her. She used her selfie stick to send me a pic from the restaurant lobby. It was the photo from this post with a note, “We are being seated now, every minute you are late is equal to one day.” OMG I never saw her in that sweater!! She bought a new sweater! I dropped my golf stuff and flew out the door, ran down the stairs and got to her just as she was being seated.

She asked me where my sweater was? She indicated that when it’s summer and she is all sweatered up for me, she expects me to be sweatered too. She would explain this later tonight in case I don’t understand. I knew then I was in for a paddling tonight as she “explained” it to me.

I just kept gushing at the table about how sexy she looked in that sweater and the sweater and shorts were incredible. It took a long time to get us seated because she had asked for the table in the corner of the room away from everyone.

At a break in the conversation, I was thinking I should be wonderful and get her mind off of tonight’s spanking. I looked at her and I told her how horny I was being locked up and knowing I was going to be locked up all vacation, Then I told her how proud I was that she had taken the step to leave the keys at home and how fun it was to watch her revel in the achievement. I had no idea how difficult it had been for her.

She replied by telling me how she really struggles with being the Key holder. Part of her wants to be a ruthless keyholder and keep me in a sexual state all the time, but the bigger part of her does not want to be mean to me or make me uncomfortable so she lets me out. She said every time she locks me up she tells herself it will be a week to a month and almost every time she feels bad and lets me out in 2-3 days. She frowned and said, “It makes me feel like a failure”. She frowned a little then said “And I know you take advantage of me in this regard.” She paused and nodded, I knew she was right. “No more”

“What changed or inspired you” I asked.

“Mona” she said and I tried not to cringe. Mona is her friend who doesn’t really like me and is aggressive and kind of mean. But they are best friends and have been since before Martina and I met. “Did you know that Mona and Dave have done chastity for 5 years?” I had no idea that my wife even talks about this sort of stuff with other people. “Mona and I went through the chastity meme’s and she told me that most of them are simply male fantasy and very few women would ever say that. She told me her chastity system and says she would never have life any other way. She keeps a journal. When she gets a hankering to lock up Dave, or Dave is a dumbass, she writes down five things: 1) Why she feels that way 2) How long she wants him locked up 3) What she wants sexually for herself out of the locking up 4) What she wants Dave to experience sexually (if anything) during the lock up and 5) What she wants done and accomplished non-sexually before he gets unlocked.

She writes those five things down and she says that if a woman is going to be true to themselves and enjoy the power of having the key , while prioritizing to ignore male suffering, then she MUST make sure the list is complete before the belting is ended AND she NEVER tells Dave how long she is planning on having him belted. She will share things with him about the goals, especially things like… one time……ha (she laughed) Do you remember when Dave got it in his head that he was going to paint the whole house in a week all by himself? So do you remember that? Yeah. We thought Dave was crazy and he was, but it was not actually his idea. After being belted for 2 weeks, Mona told him he gets out AFTER the whole house is painted and not a minute before. She said he never worked so hard on anything ever. He never complained he just worked for his goal.

Last week I wrote down my five things. I read them three times each day to cement them in my head and make sure that is what I wanted. Now I am your Key Holder and I am confident with my plan and feel great about it. How do you like it so far? I replied that I really wanted to have sex with her but being belted on vacation with the keys at home was a really hot surprise.

She smiled big. You are so wonderful I have another surprise for you. I’m going to tell you some of the things I wrote down. (I thought, AWESOME) I wrote down that as my gift for you sexually I am going to spend the entire day and night with you and I’m going to wear this new thick fuzzy sweater all day long. I will be your smok’n hot, drink buying, golf partner, but I won’t play because golf is stupid. (she always said that), I will wear it after golf for whatever you want to do and I will wear it out to dinner when you take me to a nice restaurant tonight to celebrate. I will wear it when I serve you a nightcap back at the room.

Wow.

“And in return for this wonderful gift, you will be giving me, one month in chastity that starts today.”

“Holy Cow, I like the sweater part a lot”, I said. I was in a big panic. My world chastity record was 6 days and this was going to be 36 days, at least.

I got myself together and said, “How about I stay in Chastity till next weekend and every day next week we turn down the A/C and I pick a sweater for you to wear every night?”

She laughed and said, “It’s so cute you are trying to negotiate, remind me again who has the keys?”

“OK, OK, Chastity for 10 days from now, no sweaters and I’ll clean the kitchen every night, that will be 16 days in chastity and more than double my world record” and with that I gave her my most manipulative, please please, I love you so much face I could muster.

“You are staying belted until one month from now, I don’t see how that could possibly change, unless I decide to add time beyond a month. I do like the clean the kitchen every night. I’m sure you will do that anyway, because you might fear that I will add days for not doing so. Now, I expect you to clean the kitchen every night you are belted or that day does not count. I’m tired of this conversation. I am going to let you give me one more lame attempt to put conditions or propose changes to MY plan. Just one more time you can ever mention it. You have until the end of breakfast. Then any further requests for release or suggestions about my keyholding and your one month will automatically become TWO MONTHS. I suggest you at least be entertaining with your suggestion.”

The waiter arrived with breakfast, perfectly timed, so I would shut my mouth.

We didn’t say much during breakfast. At some point, she reached over and touched my hand. “You are pretty sexy when you are thinking so hard”

I knew I had to go back to the meme’s and the things that she seemed to really like. Suddenly I couldn’t remember any of it. As breakfast was almost done, I had it. “I’m ready, for my last lame attempt to get out of this chastity belt before one month”

“Good, I can’t wait, then we have a tee time”. She said it like it was just a formality and this was a pointless exercise in my using my mouth to say nothing important.

“I will submit to you for any action whatsoever for the next 10 days. I challenge you to train me to cum in my chastity belt from anal.” Her mouth dropped open, her butt wiggled a little bit and I knew that the juices had started to flow. I continued: “You have ten days to train me to cum from anal, not just drip a little, but to make me an anal whore. If you fail, on day #11 I am release from the chastity belt. But IF you are successful, and I hope you are, Then I want to be an anal whore and you have to make me cum from anal at least two times every week, further, if I am horny and want to be fucked, you cannot refuse me, unless I have already cum twice in the last 7 days.

She leaned back in the chair and one hand went under the table then suddenly rocketed back to the top of the table. I knew I did something good, because she was going to rub herself and had forgotten we are in a restaurant. After a minute if thoughtful gazing at me.

“I will accept your challenge, if you still want to do it, because I will not agree unless, after I have trained you to be an excellent anal whore, the rule will be, before you can cum, you must first be tied up, gagged and spanked heartily. Most times probably on the spanking bench but I want to also be creative. After your spanking I might just make you cum on the bench still tied up or untie you for some other adventure in cummies.

I didn’t like that additional terms, I don’t enjoy being spanked However, the chance to get out in 10 days or at least get some relief if she is successful, sounded pretty good. We agreed. I typed it all out onto an email and sent it to her. She replied confirmation that was the agreement. Apparently, putting an agreement in writing was also a Mona thing, so that there was no confusion later about agreements.

The check arrived and it was time to go get my golf clubs. Now my only concern was looking at her in the sweater as much as possible and remembering this day for the rest of my life. She is so sexy. And she will probably be very hot in the sweater too.

It was late morning and still cool, but her sweater was defiantly too much sweater for a normal person. The sweater got her noticed and two women approached her separately to tell her what a wonderful sweater she had on and ask if she made it herself. I caught the golf cart attendant checking her out seriously, he wasn’t looking at her rear or legs, he was definitely a sweater person too.

I started with a six pack of beer and a six pack of water and lots of ice from the snack shack. I figured it’s a great day to drink beer and stay hydrated. My golf game was ok. I had a birdie and I had some trouble. We were on the back nine where there were no houses or roads. I had just blasted my ball way down the fairway with a driver but at the last moment, my ball hit a little hill and bounced forcefully into the woods. I drove the cart up to the woods parked in the shade for Martina who was now a little red faced with heat, but being a super sexy woman and also drinking most of the beer.

The group behind us was four guys that started with a crapload of beer and we had not seen them for 5 holes, I bet we were 30 minutes ahead of them. And the group in front of us was fast so it was like we had the course to ourselves.

I decided that I could find my ball and probably play it. I grabbed a few clubs and walked into the woods to find my ball. After a minute or two I found it and hit a killer shot between the trees right up the fairway and almost to the green. I was happy to still have a chance for par.

As I came out of the woods Martina looked like she was passed out. She was leaning all the way back in the seat with her head back and her eyes closed. As I approached, I said, “What are you doing?” and at that moment I could hear her breathing. She was breathing hard. Her hand was down in her crotch. As I got to the cart, I just stopped. She was rubbing the outside of her shorts and masterbating. She looked like she had been doing this a while. I just stood there looking at her. My Chastity belt signaled that it was still in place and my heart sunk when I remembered the keys where at home and then sunk again when I remembered the belt might be my closest friend for the next month.

Sheepishly I said “Whatcha do’in?”

She gasped and didn’t move her head or open her eyes. Breathlessly she said, “I started thinking……..What if after a month……. You really like this ……….. (a longer pause for a few hard strokes) What if I really like this ….. or maybe we both really like this” With those words she gasped hard as if saying those words out loud was the trigger to her orgasm. Then her eyes shot wide open. She raised her head and looked at me …… “This could be a lifestylllllllllllllll Ahhhhh God please!!” Then as if speaking those words was a trigger to heaven, she came like a freight train for over a minute. I just stood there dumbfounded while I watched her cum more than one time.

As she settled down, I was still standing there looking at her. She opened her eyes again and turned her head toward me. She bit her lip in the most sexy way and took her hand off of her now noticeably wet crotch. She sat up a little and said, “I have 10-Days to make you the man of my dreams”

#chastity#locktober chastity chastitybelt #belt #sweater #sweater fetish #bondage #bondage story #keyholder #key holder #sweater fetish #sweater # wool fetish r#orgasm denial

13 notes · View notes

charlietheepicwriter7 · 4 years

Text

Baton Pass! AU Part 2

To see Part 1, go here or here

Bakugou’s Palace was indeed a playground; the school was now made of jungle gyms and plastic tubing, metal poles and mulch covering the ground. The Thieves were already in their clothes - intruders even in the mind of someone who didn’t know them - and the front door of the school, now plastic like a little kid’s playhouse, were chained up with a broken swing.

“What just happened!? Where are we??”

Shocked, the thieves turned to see Izuku, who was practically shaking with incomprehension. His school is now a playground??? There’s a weird cat thing???? His friends are dressed weird????? (okay, he’s kinda used to that last one, but this is different even by Yusuke’s standards).

They’re all trying to get Izuku out of the metaverse so they can explain and Izuku is Not having it when Bakugou’s shadow arrives.

Unlike other shadows, who look fairly close to their counterparts, Katsuki’s is different.

Mainly because his look’s like a four year old, since that was when his insecurities started and overtook him.

He’s dressed like in a hero costume - his hero costume, only as if it were recreated by a child.

The shadow immediately starts cussing the thieves out (his voice is the same as teen Bakugou and its really unsettling). Then he notices Izuku, who has been standing there, horrified and loosely connecting things the thieves said before Bakugou interrupted to the Shadow.

Bakugou is Livid that “Deku” is here after “he spent his entire life trying to get rid of Izuku, but he just kept coming back. Like a mold. or a rat.”

Izuku is crying. The shadow mocks him for it, saying that if he was smart, he’d leave. “But Deku’s aren’t smart, are they?” So he attacks Izuku.

The Thieves intervene, but Bakugou is an incredibly strong shadow, able to out maneuver them with incredible speed.

Izuku, watching his friends being beaten by his bully, begs Bakugou to know why he hates Izuku, why he’s trying to hurt his friends.

Bakugou scoffs. He rants about how “Deku is always looking down on him, thinking he’s so high and mighty for what? Being worthless? He doesn’t have friends, don’t fucking lie. No one would ever want a pathetic, useless piece of shit like him-”

“Don’t you FUCKING say that about him!!!!”

Ryuji immediately comes to Izuku’s defense. He and the others refute Shadow Bakugou, praising Izuku’s good qualities and showing their support for him. Makoto notes that Katsuki is just throwing his own insecurities back on Izuku, which shocks him. Izuku is touched.

But before he could say anything, Bakugou attacks, furious about these strangers standing up for his punching bag. He knocks them all back and is about to deliver the final blow when Izuku gets in between them.

“Get out of the way, fucking Deku!”

“You don’t have the right...”

“Huh!? What’d you say to me?”

“I said you don’t have the FUCKING RIGHT!! To hurt them! To hurt me! You’re not going to touch them because I won’t let you!”

“Then you can fucking DIE!”

But Izuku isn’t listening anymore. He’s collapsed, clutching his head in pain.

“Finally. Tell me, why have you let this fool hold you back from taking what’s yours? For years you’ve suffered under the boot of others; now, let them face your resistance! I am thou, thou art I - Your dream is closer than ever before! Now, call out my name and take it!”

“Come to me, Anansi!”

Flames erupt all around Izuku. When they dissipate, Izuku is left looking like a cowboy wearing a long flapping-in-the-wind duster, colored all black with the exception of neon green accents. On his head is a black cowboy hat and his mask is a black stretch of fabric around his face - an outlaw’s mask. On his wrists are grappling bracelets and across his back sits a long sniper’s rifle.

“Kaachan... Bakugou. For years, I looked past the abuse. I brushed away the burns and bruises and offered my friendship to you, over and over again, only to get pain! Well, no longer! Your insecurities, your quirk... neither of these things are an excuse for how you’ve treated me!”

“You fucking... how dare you stand up against me! You damn pebble!”

“I’m not a pebble! Like it or not, Bakugou, but I’m going to be the number one hero! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me! Now, Anansi!”

Izuku is the key to defeating Bakugou’s shadow - he’s the only one who can keep up with it, with both Anansi (who is super fast) and with his grappling bracelets. Together, they manage to defeat the shadow and escape into the real world.

Izuku is exhausted once he returns to the real world, vaguely realizing that he’s not going to be in any shape to clean the beach. The group hauls him back to his apartment, where they can be sure Futaba isn’t listening, and meet Mamadoriya, who is thrilled that Izuku is bringing friends home for once even if they’re older.

They explain the Metaverse and how they’re the Phantom Thieves. Izuku is a little on edge, since the media had been portraying the thieves as villains, but is calmed after some explanation. It’s not a quirk and it’s not like there are laws against it. Besides, they had saved lives by changing hearts, both literally and future-wise. So they’re basically heroes!

(It’s not like Izuku has much respect for the law anyway coughstainfightcough)

He wants to help and they let him with minimal protests. It’s not like they can stop him since he now has the Meta-app, and isn’t it better to work as a group? So Izuku’s a Phantom Thief now.

But what are they going to do about Bakugou? Izuku convinces them to leave it. It’s not like Bakugou can do anything more to him without risking his hero career. They should be focusing on Futaba.

Secretly, Izuku doesn’t want to change Bakugou’s heart at all. Not for any sentimental reason; Anansi is there to remind him of every bad thing Bakugou’d ever done to him. No, it’s because Bakugou is a child. He still has time to change, given that the teachers at UA don’t cater to his ego. Izuku wants to give him the chance to change on his own.

The group thinks they’ve solved what was going on with Izuku, but he corrects them. He was telling the truth, that his exhaustion was from hero training, but he managed to find a retired hero to train him.

Speaking of his training, All Might calls him. Izuku, panicking, manages to grab the phone before his friends can see the caller id but accidentally puts it on speaker phone. So All Might introduces himself to the group at Toshinori Yagi, All Might’s secretary and the Thieves decide to involve themselves with Izuku’s training.

****************************************************************************** Why I chose Anansi as Izuku’s Persona:

Trickster god (most important part, since all other level one personas in P5 are Tricksters).

Big part of oral culture, alluding to Izuku’s habit of muttering.

God of writing and stories

Celebrated by American slaves as a symbol of resistance and survival.

Uses cunning, trickery, and strategy in order to outwit stronger opponents, much like Izuku does.

Explaination of Izuku’s Persona outfit:

Cowboys were often seen as outsiders to society, with a high population of Men of Color and gay men. This is a reference for Izuku being on the outside of society.

Westerns often have a “find your own justice” vibe that I thought fitted Izuku well.

Outlaw mask - also on the outside of society.

Long rifle - This will actually involve his quirk, just let me get to it later.

Cowboy hat - I want Snipe and Izuku to do the “same hat” meme really bad.

#bnha #persona 5 #Crossovers #bnha persona 5 crossover #midoriya izuku #bnha deku #akira kusuru #persona 5 protagonist #p5 #THE PHANTOM THIEVES OF HEARTS #morgana #baton pass au #ryuji sakamoto #izuku has a quirk

43 notes · View notes

rogue-snorunt · 6 years

Note

Can I still be nosy? 7, 8, 16, 18, 19, 31, 43, 44

i’m shook because someone actually wanting to get to know my doofy ass ; u ;7. Do you have tattos?Yep! got 3 tho tech one is a two-parter: +The Great Chain from Bioshock with “A man chooses, a slave obeys” quote on left wrist.+ Assassins Creed feathered insignia from the second game on right wrist.+ White ink skeletal angler fish on right side of left calf with its angler wrapping around to left side turning into a branch in which a cute ass fluffy owl sits as its lure.8. Want tattoos?Yep, and I want to get more : Gene’s star tattoo from Outlaw Star; Cardinal and some Daisies ( nana and great nana’s spirit bird and favorite flower) and a crow (my favorite birb) done in a mixed style of abstract and geometric shapes. The Marker from Dead Space with possible “Altmen be Praised” But both a phobia of needles (ironic i know but the tattoos i have already I did as a sort of self forced exposure therapy) and money currently prevent them,16. I’ll love you if…You treat me like a decent human should treat others; give me food, are patient, I am able to relate to you due to similar likes and interests. 18, Most traumatic experience:strap in- this is gonna be long and I apologize:

three years old- dad chasing and holding me down and forcing piercing my ears with a needle and an ice cube.six years old - the cat I’ve had an lived since birth and was my only friend: scratching me in the face , it was my fault as I pulled his tail like dumbass kids tend to do, resulting in the cat running outside and getting ran over by my day. i lost my best friend and my right eye that day.16 years old - accidentally getting left behind at a gas station in new jersey because I had to pee and left my phone in the car.

17 years old - Let my fathers dog - Milkshake out before taking a quick shower only to get a knock on the door a few minutes later by a random dude who informed me he had hit Milkshake. there was nothing anyone could do and no place was open so on christmas day I laid in the snowy road with Milkshake while she choked on blood for a couple of minutes and than died. 19 years old - 3 months into driving, a deer running out infront of me and I swerved to miss it resulting me to go off the road on a steep guard rail-less hill. my car got air and I popped all four tires; the frame got shifted 4 inches to the right, bent the control arm, it flipped on its side and my 50 pound toolbox getting thrown my backseat, missing my head by a few inches and smashing into my windshield. my car landed a few feet from a metal pole in a ditch. the only reason I was able to get out was because I happened to have the sun roof open that day and managed to fit through it. Instead of going to the hospital after, like the intelligent person I am, I just went home and slept for 3 days.22 years old - getting rammed from behind doing 75 on the highway by a white truck while trying to pass a semi-truck while driving home for the weekend from college. fishtailing then doing a couple 360′s managing to not hit the semi truck besides me or the truck behind me and stopping inches from hitting the guardrail, facing the opposite direction. again, did not go to hospital; went to my friends restaurant where I worked at the time and just went to sleep on the dining room floor.22 years old - crossing the crosswalk on my way to my friends restaurant and assuming the suv coming down the hill would abide by the laws of this land but instead getting double-tapped by an old lady. No hospital - went to restaurant and went to sleep in the hallway to the house above the restaurant.23 years old - the head gasket in my 88′ Ford Bronco exploding while driving back to college on a dark and very stormy night. I had to stand in a downpour next to a giant fireball for 2 hours waiting for the cops to come.25 years old - moved to Wisconsin for a bit and while riding the bus to work, a man apparently disapproved of how I was sitting and punched me.Few months later a finch flew into our apartment building and I tried my best but it died in my hands.26 to 27 years old - Moved back to new york; where my step mom died and her appearance at the wake still fucks me up.Than I began working at a bakery and worked with an unstable man who would black out; scream, throw and break equipment and threatened to hurt/ kill me and lock everyone inside the bakery and burn it.and finally 27 years old: on january 31st - my friend was driving me home before a bad snowstorm hit and we hit black ice and slammed into a tree. the airbag broke my hand; face and glasses and fucked up my ribs, left lung and have a damaged nerve in my neck. The feeling of getting the air knocked out of you and not being to breath and the agony of trying to was the worst pain i’ve ever experienced in my life and I was in and out of the hospital for 5 years with pancreatitis, kidney stones and infection, ulcers and organ shut downs all at the same time. last: having to put my dog with prostate cancer down after he wasn’t getting better. he died in my lap and it still haunts me.19: a fact about your personality take away the silly manner of speaking and vocab; puns and dumb jokes, pop culture references and goofy mannerisms : I’m just a dumb emotional asshole. 31. Last text message“I can’t help that I’m a slut for grade a memes and maple candy, stop shaming me”43. Sexiest person who comes to mind:tbh, i havent had a thought like this but now that I am @life-is-no-sugarlicking ‘s roy ; gage , dean winchester and ryan goslin come to mind.44. random fact:alot of food advertised as gluten free is naturally so already. Companies like advertising that and repackaging it to sell at a higher price just because they slapped “GLUTEN FREE!” on something they been selling already for years. and its a trap alot of people newly diagnosed with celiac’s are victim too. Rice; Veggies, Meats, Potatoes, Corn starch, Corn Tortillas, Cheerios, Rice Chex, Fruits, marshmallows, chocolate and gummi worms/bears/etc, also oatmeals are naturally gluten free so you don’t need to buy that special overpriced junk.if it requires a rue (thickener like in gravies and chowder) / is a soup/ requires a binder such as meatballs and meat loaf/ needs to be baked or fried / beer or other alcohol like that = 99% chance its gluten, don’t eat it! vodka; rum; tequila, i believe gin and apple ale are all gluten free.you can use corn starch in lieu of flour for making gravies and soups Advice? Read the labels for everything. Personally, as long as it doesnt actually contain wheat/wheat by products or gluten, I can have things with “MAY contain..” but everyone is different and more sensitive than others. just be careful and read everything. (soy sauce and corn pops are fucking traps because soy sauce is alot of the times made with soy AND WHEAT so check!!! and corn pops are shitheads because you think “oh! CORNpops! I must be able to have it! cause its CORN pops! FRIGGIN CORN-POPS! CORN!!” NO YOU CANT BECAUSE THOSE SNEAKY MUTHAFECKERS USE WHEAT AS LIKE THE 2ND INGREDIENT AND I AM REALLY SALTY ABOUT IT)

#ask a rogue a question #car accident mention #traumatic mentions

6 notes · View notes

chelsdavisart · 6 years

Text

Enderal Character Ask + Expression Practice

Drawing Mom and thinking about what a full-blooded Arazalean person might look like led to me trying to figure out what a half Arazalean person might look like... so I put some more work into Wren’s design. Had lots of fun. Enderal Character Ask – Fill it out yourself or reblog as is to use as an ask meme.

Have fun! <3

—————————————

1. The basics – name, age, etc… Wren Peakdasher, age 27, she/her. The last name she chose to replace one she hated.

2. Describe their appearance. Half Arazalean, 5’6” tall, athletic build; dark, eternally messy hair. Gray-ish blue-ish eyes. She bears her mother’s sharp features (dulled by her Nehrimese blood) and her father’s coloration. She has ample arms and hips; minimal chest.

(Blank survey here; the rest of my answers are under the cut.)

3. How do they like to dress? Wren dresses for comfort and practicality. She doesn't like to wear garments which restrict her movement. She’d be really into sweaters. She likes pretty things, but wearing them is rare.

4. Do they have any markings (scars, tattoos, birthmarks)? Wren has an old, blurry tattoo on the inside of her left wrist- the crest of her owner.

5. What are they like?: Neutral good. Wren is extremely reserved around most people. She /hates/ crowds. She will often flinch at unexpected touch. When she is angry, she becomes quiet and cold. Please don’t yell at her. Loves the outdoors- absolutely would sleep in the woods every night if the local wildlife in Enderal wasn’t going crazy. She’s stubborn. She can forget that she needs to take care of herself- she’s inclined to get the job done without rest. When someone has stuck around her long enough, or takes the shortcut of showing intentional interest in her thoughts, Comfortable Wren™ is unlocked. She laughs! She jokes! She offers pretty things! She protects, trusts, and forgives!

6. How would they describe themselves? Who’s asking?

7. Education level? She has a street education. She can read and do basic maths. She likes ideas. It’s very important to her that each person be able to hold their own ideas- and that those should not be controlled by another person. One of her strengths is a high level of emotional intelligence. She is good at reading and understanding people. Motivation is very important to her.

8. What are they proud of in themselves? What are they embarrassed about? Wren’s very good at running and she’s pretty proud of that. She’s good at survival, as well. She’s embarrassed of how she pushes herself too far. Mostly because it means admitting to other people that she has limits, but also because it means she has to recover, which takes longer than just resting in the first place.

9. Do they know any languages other than Inal? She learned some sign language as part of one of her odd jobs for the Creator’s Temple, some more for communicating silently with Sirius. She knows mostly very polite and very rude signs.

10. What, if any, aspects of their mother’s culture influenced them growing up? Her lullabies were the ones her mother learned on the Steppes of Arazeal. She still hums them when she’s nervous or comforting others. A very simplified version of her mother’s philosophy sank in. “People should be able to decide for themselves what they believe.”

11. Name a song (or a few) that remind you of them. ...I have an enormous playlist for her. Of note… Big Houses by Squalloscope Open by Regina Spektor Run Boy Run by Woodkid Twenty Seven by MS MR Blindness by Metric Rabbit Heart by Florence + The Machine

12. Speaking of songs, can they sing? What is their voice like? How about instruments? She hums to herself and she doesn’t sing around other people unless they’re very safe. Not sure how it sounds.

13. What was their life like before coming to Enderal? Wren’s family burned when she was quite young. She survived on her own for a couple of months, but was scooped up by slavers. She was given her master’s surname, Guthran. She does not remember her father’s name and doesn’t care to. She was an absolute terror of a child after being enslaved. She still has a foul mouth and a defiant streak. Wren hunted rats in warehouses as a child and, when old enough to go out, graduated to hunting game for her master’s table. The sense of freedom this job gave her was vital. She was able to keep herself happy that way.

14. How did they decide to leave Nehrim? During the revolt, Wren was obliged to protect her master. She thought she was going to die, but she didn't. She decided then that if she got a chance to get out, she’d take it. That chance came two years later.

15. Describe their relationship with Sirius. They became friends when they hunted rats together in the warehouses. They helped each other stay alive in the hard times, celebrate the good times, and cope with the weird times.

16. Who do they blame for what happened to their family? The Lightborn, indirectly. Directly, the men she saw that day.

17. Apart from stowing away, have they ever broken the law? She’s an escaped slave, for one. Other than that… yeah, probably. But only the dumb laws.

18. How honest are they? Under what circumstances would they lie? She is honest when that is needed and dishonest when that is needed. There are a lot of things more important than the correct answer to “which way did they go?”

19. Worst memory(s)? Best memory(s)? Worst memory, aside from her family burning: her entire adolescence. Good lord. Best memory: recently drew this one. Making daisy chains with her mother one afternoon, listening to stories of Arazeal and talking about how they’d go back together.

20. Fight, or flight? FLIGHT

21. Describe their combat style. Sneaky pew pew

22. Have they ever killed before? What is their reaction to combat? Wren has killed before and she hates it. That’s why she prefers ranged- it’s less of a sickeningly tactile engagement with her prey.

23. How do they react to having magical abilities? Do they use them? “Well shit, that’s weird. Oh gods why does it hurt?” She does not like using magic. She avoids the school of restoration entirely- gives her a headache.

24. What do they think of Enderal? It’s gorgeous. She wants to explore /all of it./ She heard a rumor that there might be an actual real dragon somewhere and she is SO EXCITED. She was delighted to learn that there technically is no slavery here. Well. There’s nothing that is /called/ “slavery” here. Let’s be honest with ourselves- there are slaves. Wren is severely disappointed to find that crucifixion is practiced here. Crosses freak her out and she does not like that she keeps running into them.

25. Did they do the Biggest Egg Hunt Ever quest? HECK YES SHE DID. IT WAS AMAZING.

26. How do they feel about joining the Order? What do they think of Arantheal? That was very “no.” She did not like joining The Order. She does not want to represent the damn Lightborn. She thought she didn’t have a choice, but then Jespar got to stay without doing the quest? Rude? Tealor Arantheal is a big, old guy who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone and he’s got a lot of pride in his bones. He was nice enough at first, but he just kept getting worse. He does not have the same values as Wren- not even in the same neighborhood- and she does not like him at all.

27. What is their opinion of the gods (or lack thereof)? “The gods” watched as horror after horror took place in her home. “The gods” watched as the men from the so-called temple burned her family while she hid. They did nothing to stop it- not even for sister. These “gods” allowed her to be enslaved and they laughed at her every hardship. If they were gods, if they were even real- good riddance to them. The world could use a few less “gods” like that. This is an opinion she keeps to herself.

28. Wine, or pipe? Pipe. She started while friends with Sirius; uses it as a kind of escape.

29. Do they spare or arrest Hallys, the farmer-turned-bandit in the quest, Deus Ex Machina? Why? She freed Hallys and returned the money to the food bank. He made a stupid choice. That doesn’t mean his family deserves to starve.

30. What are their feelings and opinions about the Undercity? Wren belongs in the Undercity. If she didn’t have this Prophet shit going on, she’d have been immediately shuffled down there with the rest of the people Ark doesn’t care about. Wren is very angry about the Undercity. If she ever actually gets in a fight with Arantheal, it will be over the Undercity and its people.

31. How do they react to the beggars of Ark? Wren stops to give them a coin if she has some. She might not have much, but that little bit could mean a great deal to them. She doesn’t need a lot, anyway.

32. Where and how do they spend their time when in Ark? Wren wanders a lot when in the city. She likes to find the quiet places.

33. What would they do with three wishes? Not be the prophet. Save the world somehow while not being the prophet. Turn Arantheal’s stupid beard green.

34. How do they feel about death? Do they fear it? She has a working relationship with death. There have been some very uncertain times in her life. She doesn’t fear death as much as she fears pain.

35. What (else) do they fear? Pain for herself and for those she cares about. Loneliness. Her dreams.

36. Do they have any secrets? Several! For example, she hides her tattoo under her gloves. She does not utter that horrid name. She does not admit to anyone that she is anything other than free.

37. How is their behavior around people they like? People they dislike? Warm, and cold. She becomes more physically affectionate toward people she's comfortable with. Hugs and such. She is extremely withdrawn from those she dislikes and she doesn't care to hide it.

38. What is their relationship with the companions? Who, if anyone, did your prophet romance? Calia quickly takes on a “younger sister” role in Wren’s life. Wren loves Calia dearly and would change the stars if she could to make her happy. They have different beliefs, but similar values. Wren respects the heck out of Calia and will fight anyone who tries to get in the girl’s way. Wren’s relationship with Jespar is better described as a “bromance.” Good times, challenging each other to be better, late night conversations about life- that kind of thing. They have different values at times, but are able to talk about those differences. They come to respect each other. Wren is very fond of him, but is unlikely to understand this as attraction without someone else’s help (Wren is on the asexuality spectrum). So- if he brings it up, maybe they will get together. If not, she’ll still be happy. Hopefully, he will be happy, too.

39. Was there any non-companion character that they were close to? That they particularly disliked? Lishari- Wren formed a quick friendship with her. They had a lot in common and Wren felt she could trust her. Firespark- Wren didn’t know she needed a sassy uncle, but she really did, and she treasured every insult. He gave a shit about her when others would have sent her straight to the Undercity and she’s grateful. Archmagister Merrayil- He is very patient with Wren’s frequent questions and, though he is a very busy person, he always takes time to chat. Magistra Yaela- honestly, what a joy of a person. There’s just something special about people who talk about their field with passion. Kurmai- Wren really liked Kurmai. They bonded over eggs. It was good. Why, dude, why?

40. How do they feel about myrads? YES. VERY YES. Wren’s favorite myrad is the angel who nests in South Ark. She goes to talk to this myrad when she is sad or can’t sleep.

41. What dreams or ambitions did they have before coming to Enderal? What about afterwards? Survival, honestly, is pretty near the top for all of this. But also- she just wants to make things a little less shitty for other people if she can. She couldn’t help before. Maybe she can now.

42. Do they like cities? Or do they prefer the country? Is there a region of Enderal that they like or dislike more than the others? NO to cities. Wren absolutely loves the Goldenforst. It’s so beautiful. She’s built a hunting cabin there. It’s so great. She would live there all the time if she could.

43. What do they do to lower their considerable stress? Enjoy a pipe, escape to the outdoors, watch the stars, look at flowers… that kind of thing.

44. Describe their perfect day off. See the previous question. Honestly, she wishes she had more time to explore.

45. List three of their favorite things. Three things they hate? She loves flowers. Her other favorite things fluctuate, but flowers will always make her happy. The things she hates are concepts more than things, but… Arantheal's stupid beard makes the list.

46. What’s in their pockets? A few pennies, a wrapped lump of wax, something to tie her hair back, the crumbs of many flower petals.

47. Pets? Mounts? Treasured possessions? Wren loves that myrad so much. So much. She treasures every gift that's been given to her and has stashed all of them away safely.

48. How are their cooking skills? She's very good with stews. Mostly foods you'd cook while camping.

49. Do you consider any particular quest or side quest to be definitive for your prophet? Which one(s) and why? The artist quest, with the witch and the witch hunter, was troubling for Wren. She would have heard about the witch hunter's murders in Arazeal from her mother a cautionary tale. “Don't trust people too quickly.” She hesitates too much, eventually looking away as the witch hunter dies. She makes sure the witch stops her practice, then walks back to Ark. Not a good day.

50. How forgiving are they? For example, if they were yelled at in a brothel after searching high and low for this little sh*t, how would they react? With that particular little shit, in that particular situation, she's very forgiving. She knew he was in pain. She thought he was gone for good when he left. They were fine as soon as he showed up. She was just grateful for his safety. With those who are not her safe people, she's not as easy to forgive.

51. What do they think of the Veiled Woman? Some fear, some anger- all overwhelmed by gratitude and respect. She has a lot more caution for the Veiled Woman than for the High Ones. The fear is because Wren can't understand what her motivations might be. How could she spend so much time explaining the nature of time and space without wanting something in return?

52. If they had been a victim of one of the black stones, how would it have affected them? What would they have used its power to accomplish? This would have resulted in a lot of dead nobles, if we're being honest with ourselves. She would have tried to solve the problem of the Undercity somehow.

53. What was their reaction to the Black Guardian’s revelations? Do they accept or reject his offer? Wren had been having doubts about her nature since the Living Temple. She believed the Black Guardian. It just made sense. She knew what needed to be done, though… She decided against the idea to let humanity be harvested. But then she tried to help the Guardian and *that* was a mistake.

54. How does their story end? Humanity does not need to change. To choose to remake humans without pride, without sin… Wren feels this would remove something essential from humanity. Humans are awful and good and flawed and beautiful and that's perfect. Wren needs to trust that people can solve this problem. Now that they know the game, she is sure they can win. Humans don't need to change- the high ones need to die. Wren knocks the stones out of place by using her bow like a baseball bat.

55. Do they change over the course of the story? In what ways? She becomes more confident and less afraid.

56. Anything else you’d like to share about them? When Wren is very tired, her Ostian accent gets very strong, even to the point of becoming unintelligible. Home for her is not in places. She feels at home with her safe people.

57. Bonus: For you- what are you most excited for in Forgotten Stories? I'm very excited to learn more about the Veiled Woman. Getting more insight into the Rhalatta will also be really cool…. And new companion? Agh, I'm excited for everything.

#Enderal character ask #enderal #Wren Peakdasher #character ask #sketch #expression #character design

30 notes · View notes

thelioninmybed · 6 years

Note

If I'm not too late for fic meme, can I get "Stories for Children", the early bit where the cousins are all interacting, from "She did feel for him" to "sex, death and betrayal"?

Stories For Children

She did feel for him - most of the soldiers she trained with herself were too embarrassed to cross blades with a man and those few who would refused to take him seriously. She’d gone easy on him herself until he’d dislocated his own shoulder struggling out of an armlock and then, when she’d released him in horror, sunk his teeth into her wrist down to the bone. Man or not, she could respect that blind dedication to inflicting violence.

[In some ways Cierza is a good cousin. Sort of. If you squint a bit. She (much like Gil himself) is sexist as heck but willing to make exceptions]

Still, sometimes it was difficult.

She usually thought of him as a sexless blur of poorly controlled anger but seeing him now, water pooling in the hollow of his collarbone, damp clothes clinging to the contours of his body made her uncomfortable and ashamed. He was athletic and tall for a man but still so slight and delicate compared to her own bulk. It wasn’t honourable to hit boys, her mother had always said, and she found herself regretting the fresh bruise rising on the plane of his cheek.

[He’s your cousin Cierza, don’t make it weird. …Weird was very much the goal here though, please enjoy this casual objectification, I’m taking a leaf from the ‘breasted boobily down the stairs’ school of narration]

He caught her staring and frowned. “What?”

“Just admiring my handiwork,” she said lightly, gesturing at the bruise with a laugh to cover her disquiet. She clapped him on the back and threw the practice swords to a waiting servant, then together they strolled up onto the terrace that overlooked the gardens.

The air smelt damp and earthy there, of rot and growing things, and someone had had the decency to charm the temperature down to something manageable. The gardens weren’t at their best in the heat but there was still much to admire; tiny phosphorescent toadstools in half a hundred colours gave the area an unearthly glow, illuminating gorgeous lacy frills of fungus and tall, elegant mushrooms with stalks as delicate as a boy’s wrist, interspersed with great speckled behemoths as large as any surface tree. Further away, out of sight, was the euphemistically named herb garden where less attractive but more useful fungi were grown for the kitchens, for medicines and potions and for poisons.

[Mushrooms! Okay maybe I do overuse them some]

Tehaneth and little Chanali were already on the terrace, sat at a table piled high with books. Her half-sister ignored them but her cousin looked up at their approach with clear relief. It was a heavy, musty old tome he was reading and she couldn’t blame him for wanting an excuse to be away from it. He had neglected to take his usual care over his appearance and wore a loose, simple robe, his hair pulled back from his face in a single, fraying braid, wisps falling free about his face and dancing in the breeze. She tried idly to imagine Tehaneth armed and armoured, screaming at her from across the training field and smiled at the improbability.

[Although she has far more in common Gil than Tehaneth, Cierza’s more comfortable with the latter; just as Cierza is very good at performative femininity, so he is with masculinity, while both Gil and Chanali fall short]

“You should go and get cleaned up,” he told his brother. “You know how it upsets Father to see you like that.”

“That’s the idea,” Gil said, drawing up a chair and putting his feet up on the table.

Tehaneth tutted. “You’re such a child.”

[The events of It’s Always Hardest On The Children really fucked Gil up (and Tehaneth, in less obvious ways). But even before then, Gil idolised his mother and saw the way she abused his father as if not justified then proof that men are weak and invite such treatment (and Mathis’ terrible parenting certainly contributed to that impression)]

Cierza poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter on the table, disturbing a fly that had been crawling across its rim. Kadja, Tehaneth’s familiar, twitched at the sudden buzzing and scuttled down from her master’s shoulder to stalk it across the tabletop.

[Kadja is my favourite non-character, she does amazing hair (NB I would rather die than have a hairspider however stylish the results]. Tehaneth, unlike Khazri, has proper training and did actual formalised spells to bind Kadja, and so she serves as an extension of his will and not a dangerous animal that follows him around and sometimes eats soap]

Gil glanced between spider and fly, looking ready to swat whichever came into reach. “We can’t all be as mature as you, little brother.”

“What’re the books?” Cierza asked quickly, thrusting a full goblet into Gil’s hand.

“Old ghost stories,” Chanali said. Steam had condensed upon the lenses she wore to aid her reading and she paused to wipe them clear. “Do you remember the Xaloc warehouse?”

[It wouldn’t be too hard to fix her eyes and lord knows her family have the skill and the funds, but with her mother dead and no one else to advocate, it was decided it would be a good learning experience leaving Chanali to either figure out the magic herself or raise the capital to have someone do it for her. She’s working on it!]

Cierza grunted. She’d been trying to forget. Bad choices and the ghosts of murdered slaves had almost gotten them all killed, and Tehaneth was still sulking over the gown that had been ruined when a possessed mercenary tried to tear his throat out with her teeth.

[One of the first stories I wrote in this setting. There’s 10k+ of but I’m not sure I’ll ever finish or post it - it’s a little too D&D influenced and not really where characters are at now. Suffice to say though, Cierza is really underselling just why Tehaneth might be upset, in general, and at her specifically]

“We thought it couldn’t hurt to do some research,” Chanali twittered on. “So we’ll be better prepared if it happens again.”

Tehaneth tucked a tendril of hair back behind his ear. “None of them have been very helpful, alas. They’re heavy on the allegory and light on practical tips.”

Her studious little sister digging for prestige, and her viper of a cousin, digging for a chance at vengeance. They were probably trying to work out how to loose the hungry dead from where they’d bound them and set them free in her chambers. Which was, upon consideration, a very good idea just as long as she did it to them first.

“Boooring,” she drawled, as obnoxiously as possible.

[An asshole but a carefully calculated one. Cierza is kind of the opposite of Khazri in that, rather than being based on a D&D character, I played a D&D character based on her after the fact (the character was slightly nicer though)]

Chanali put on her offended face. “Some of the stories are interesting, they’re just not helpf-”

“I don’t think you heard me. ‘Boooooooooring’.”

Gil sniggered.

Tehaneth smiled blandly at them. “I have one I think you’ll like. It’s about sex, death and betrayal.”

[Tehaneth doesn’t ever say what the betrayal was, because he’s a smug asshole, and I’m not sure I made it clear enough in the story. NB that the priestess has two bags of gold at the end though, and the daughter has inherited everything. That’s how business is done in Zalach’ann]

#thearrogantemu #memery #Raised By Wolves

9 notes · View notes