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[Not too long after the Madness incident, Finn had noticed that it had been awhile since he'd seen the familiar lion beastman stopping by Bunny's. It could just be that Leona was busy--Finn didn't really know him very well, after all, and maybe he got a job that had shifted his schedule around. After asking one of the other boys from Twisted Wonderland and learning the truth, though, Finn hadn't hesitated to offer his help.
Well, he hadn't hesitated, but he was still pretty nervous about it. The first time using his magical healing on someone who actively needed it from him. And even though he's come by more than once, now, Finn couldn't help that he still had that characteristic edge of anxiety when he arrives at Leona's apartment for their scheduled healing appointment.]
Hey! How's your jaw feeling? Any better or worse than last time?
Well, he hadn't hesitated, but he was still pretty nervous about it. The first time using his magical healing on someone who actively needed it from him. And even though he's come by more than once, now, Finn couldn't help that he still had that characteristic edge of anxiety when he arrives at Leona's apartment for their scheduled healing appointment.]
Hey! How's your jaw feeling? Any better or worse than last time?
'Bout the same,
[Leona mumbles, to demonstrate. his words are smaller than usual, a bit sloppy, under-enunciated. but he's bothering to make more of an effort to speak at all, which means the tears in his mouth are stinging less and less.
his mood isn't terribly great what with the blot sickness and also being a general miserable bitch, but if anything Leona's content with the fact it doesn't seem he, and he hasn't heard that the others, are further spreading that blot by being treated.]
Still better'n'a firs'time.
['better', it seems, is defined by the fact he has a cup of hot coffee in his hands and is rather slowly drinking it as he saunters over to sit on the couch. he's missed his hot bean water, alright.]
[Leona mumbles, to demonstrate. his words are smaller than usual, a bit sloppy, under-enunciated. but he's bothering to make more of an effort to speak at all, which means the tears in his mouth are stinging less and less.
his mood isn't terribly great what with the blot sickness and also being a general miserable bitch, but if anything Leona's content with the fact it doesn't seem he, and he hasn't heard that the others, are further spreading that blot by being treated.]
Still better'n'a firs'time.
['better', it seems, is defined by the fact he has a cup of hot coffee in his hands and is rather slowly drinking it as he saunters over to sit on the couch. he's missed his hot bean water, alright.]
Good. I mean--yeah, about the same is better than worse.
[Finn closes the door behind him as he follows Leona inside, glancing at the hot coffee--but if he has any kind of lecture he's thinking, he doesn't say it. If it sets Leona back at all...well, more practice for him in all of this healing.]
I won't make you have to talk too much to answer me. I'm sorry I'm not farther along in mastering this magic, as it is.
[He wishes he could just make Leona all better with a single wave of his wand. If not that much, at least condense these sessions into just a couple much more productive ones. As he sits down beside him and takes his wand out from a coat pocket, Finn sighs, tapping it against his leg idly.]
I can only imagine how frustrating it is to deal with this kind of injury--but if you're able to drink hotter liquids, the natural healing process must not be experiencing complications, either.
[Finn closes the door behind him as he follows Leona inside, glancing at the hot coffee--but if he has any kind of lecture he's thinking, he doesn't say it. If it sets Leona back at all...well, more practice for him in all of this healing.]
I won't make you have to talk too much to answer me. I'm sorry I'm not farther along in mastering this magic, as it is.
[He wishes he could just make Leona all better with a single wave of his wand. If not that much, at least condense these sessions into just a couple much more productive ones. As he sits down beside him and takes his wand out from a coat pocket, Finn sighs, tapping it against his leg idly.]
I can only imagine how frustrating it is to deal with this kind of injury--but if you're able to drink hotter liquids, the natural healing process must not be experiencing complications, either.
[when Leona looks up from his place on the couch, though, Finn might see a bit more clearly that he's absolutely just sticking his tongue in the coffee and lapping up a little bit each time he does. he's not even trying to hide it like he should be ashamed of himself.
in all likelihood, the coffee is only going to end up half-drunk, and then the still-half-full coffee cup will be left on a table.
and then Ruggie will have to clean it up, later.
he puts his coffee cup down on the little table next to him, though, rolling his eyes and taking instead the notebook next to it and scrawling quickly in impeccable (but easily legible) script;]
Weren't you a freshman?
[the schools might not work perfectly the same, but Leona's inferring from age.]
in all likelihood, the coffee is only going to end up half-drunk, and then the still-half-full coffee cup will be left on a table.
and then Ruggie will have to clean it up, later.
he puts his coffee cup down on the little table next to him, though, rolling his eyes and taking instead the notebook next to it and scrawling quickly in impeccable (but easily legible) script;]
Weren't you a freshman?
[the schools might not work perfectly the same, but Leona's inferring from age.]
Edited 2025-10-11 18:43 (UTC)
[Oh...cute. Wait, no, he couldn't let himself get taken off guard by those catlike behaviors! This was a very strong and capable magician! Finn would totally make himself look even sillier if he was caught staring. Fortunately, Leona reaching over to write something allows him to save some face.]
Well, yes, but...I've been here for over a year now, so...even without anyone to teach me, I should've made more progress than this.
[If he had any level of natural talent, like his brother, he could get somewhere just teaching himself. But no matter how many books Finn poured through, there was just something missing. He didn't have the same kind of instincts that someone like Lance had--and Lance was also a freshman.]
I'm not satisfied staying at that level just because I'm away from home.
Well, yes, but...I've been here for over a year now, so...even without anyone to teach me, I should've made more progress than this.
[If he had any level of natural talent, like his brother, he could get somewhere just teaching himself. But no matter how many books Finn poured through, there was just something missing. He didn't have the same kind of instincts that someone like Lance had--and Lance was also a freshman.]
I'm not satisfied staying at that level just because I'm away from home.
Good.
[scrawls Leona. his pen is fast, but he doesn't make a single mistake. asshole.]
Healing magic isn't a simple task. A good healer can't be satisfied with the average.
[scrawls Leona. his pen is fast, but he doesn't make a single mistake. asshole.]
Healing magic isn't a simple task. A good healer can't be satisfied with the average.
...yeah.
[Finn has a sneaking suspicion, just from how similar Leona felt to Rayne in certain ways, that "good" was much higher praise than it sounded--an appreciation, perhaps, for his determined attitude. Of course, he won't thank him in words. Rayne always said that actions were more important than words.]
Well, at least people are always getting injured, so there's always plenty of opportunity to practice.
[Finn's halfway toward lifting his wand when he realizes how that sounded.]
N-Not at least, I mean, it would be better if nobody got injured in the first place, but--nevermind.
[Finn has a sneaking suspicion, just from how similar Leona felt to Rayne in certain ways, that "good" was much higher praise than it sounded--an appreciation, perhaps, for his determined attitude. Of course, he won't thank him in words. Rayne always said that actions were more important than words.]
Well, at least people are always getting injured, so there's always plenty of opportunity to practice.
[Finn's halfway toward lifting his wand when he realizes how that sounded.]
N-Not at least, I mean, it would be better if nobody got injured in the first place, but--nevermind.
[Leona tilts his head, raising a brow without changing much of the rest of his expression. does this kid think he's some kind of saint, or something?
with a smirk, he writes;]
I'll make sure to give you more practice targets.
[see he'll beat ass Finn it's fine]
with a smirk, he writes;]
I'll make sure to give you more practice targets.
[see he'll beat ass Finn it's fine]
[It's impossible for the dreamer to know when one dream bleeds into another. Cater's dream doesn't altogether change so much as it simply shifts. The sex worker from an anonymous brothel exists, now, in the twisted world of Leona's Sunset Savanna, Cater Diamond is cajoled from the safety of his establishment by a smooth talking hyena.
Maybe he knows that it's a bad idea. Hadn't he heard the rumors? People being brought before the King, never to be seen again? And the hyenas...they were always the ones that seemed to make sure of it, weren't they? But, maybe he doesn't care. Maybe what Cater has had so far isn't enough for him, anymore. Maybe if he doesn't come back from this, it's all for the better.
So, he's brought into the throne room--and, admittedly, it's a bit more intimidating than he had imagined. The setting, the amount of bodies all with their eyes on him, the blood dripping from jaws. He gulps, and maybe it's that remaining sliver of self-preservation-inspired hesitation that has the hyena who had him by the arm shoving him forward.
He staggers, but manages to keep himself on his feet, playing it off with a laugh as he runs a hand through his hair.]
Hey, now, no need to be like that. I walked here with ya on my own two feet, didn't I?
[Leona Kingscholar cuts a much more imposing figure than he could've imagined, but Cater smiles as if he has all the confidence in the world to be approaching a throne at a King's behest.]
Unless you're into the whole wilting damsel act. I can beg.
Maybe he knows that it's a bad idea. Hadn't he heard the rumors? People being brought before the King, never to be seen again? And the hyenas...they were always the ones that seemed to make sure of it, weren't they? But, maybe he doesn't care. Maybe what Cater has had so far isn't enough for him, anymore. Maybe if he doesn't come back from this, it's all for the better.
So, he's brought into the throne room--and, admittedly, it's a bit more intimidating than he had imagined. The setting, the amount of bodies all with their eyes on him, the blood dripping from jaws. He gulps, and maybe it's that remaining sliver of self-preservation-inspired hesitation that has the hyena who had him by the arm shoving him forward.
He staggers, but manages to keep himself on his feet, playing it off with a laugh as he runs a hand through his hair.]
Hey, now, no need to be like that. I walked here with ya on my own two feet, didn't I?
[Leona Kingscholar cuts a much more imposing figure than he could've imagined, but Cater smiles as if he has all the confidence in the world to be approaching a throne at a King's behest.]
Unless you're into the whole wilting damsel act. I can beg.
[so he can beg, huh? no, Leona's sure he will. but he's going to pull every plea out of this man claw by claw, bite by bite, and savor the taste of the effort. Cater giving it up so easily would take away from the flavor.]
How about you kneel, first?
[comes Leona's calm redirection. he wants to see how well and how quick this man takes orders. still reclined in his throne, tail flicking about in his intrigue but otherwise unmoving, Leona takes Cater in with eyes the light doesn't quite meet anymore. the hyenas around them watch him closely, looking up from their preoccupations, a few of them unable to hold back their little cackles.]
How about you kneel, first?
[comes Leona's calm redirection. he wants to see how well and how quick this man takes orders. still reclined in his throne, tail flicking about in his intrigue but otherwise unmoving, Leona takes Cater in with eyes the light doesn't quite meet anymore. the hyenas around them watch him closely, looking up from their preoccupations, a few of them unable to hold back their little cackles.]
[Cater feels the hairs on the back of his neck raise, his heart beating just a little faster. He slides down to his knees without question--a smooth action, not the clumsy movement of someone trembling and afraid. Was he stupid, or just that numb? Cater wasn't really sure himself, anymore.
From his position on the floor, he slides his hands forward, sensual, halfway crawling the rest of the short way to Leona's doubtlessly expensive shoes.]
I bet the view from up there must be real nice.
From his position on the floor, he slides his hands forward, sensual, halfway crawling the rest of the short way to Leona's doubtlessly expensive shoes.]
I bet the view from up there must be real nice.
[oh, good boy.
though the hyenas whoop and cheer over that, holding each other back from interfering with their boss's prize (for now), Leona's reaction is subtler, more muted. all the same, Cater's quick enough to catch the way Leona's smirk broadens, the way his eyes train on Cater's movements. he sits up enough so that he can instead lean forward, bracing his elbows against his knees, reaching down with one arm to cradle Cater's chin in his hand.]
Haven't found a reason to complain, yet.
[That's a new record! jeers one of the hyenas behind them, another smacking that one while the few around them start to laugh again. but though Leona takes a breath as though annoyed, he forces his attention to remain on Cater, as if the hyenas aren't even there.]
Are you hungry, herbivore?
[the land is parched, the air is dry. the savanna is starving. Leona's heart is starving. do any of them even know what it's like to be this kind of hungry? does Cater?]
though the hyenas whoop and cheer over that, holding each other back from interfering with their boss's prize (for now), Leona's reaction is subtler, more muted. all the same, Cater's quick enough to catch the way Leona's smirk broadens, the way his eyes train on Cater's movements. he sits up enough so that he can instead lean forward, bracing his elbows against his knees, reaching down with one arm to cradle Cater's chin in his hand.]
Haven't found a reason to complain, yet.
[That's a new record! jeers one of the hyenas behind them, another smacking that one while the few around them start to laugh again. but though Leona takes a breath as though annoyed, he forces his attention to remain on Cater, as if the hyenas aren't even there.]
Are you hungry, herbivore?
[the land is parched, the air is dry. the savanna is starving. Leona's heart is starving. do any of them even know what it's like to be this kind of hungry? does Cater?]
[Something about the word herbivore tickles something in the back of his brain. He's not entirely sure what it is--or why the way that his face settles into Leona's hold feels like more than just part of the performance. Like a dog yielding to the hand of its master.
The Savanna is starving. Cater...hadn't he been doing everything he could to fill the emptiness inside of him with the people he had between his legs? He swallows, eyes going half-lidded as if the mere presence of the predator he was at the mercy of was dizzying.]
Always. More and more every day.
The Savanna is starving. Cater...hadn't he been doing everything he could to fill the emptiness inside of him with the people he had between his legs? He swallows, eyes going half-lidded as if the mere presence of the predator he was at the mercy of was dizzying.]
Always. More and more every day.
[Leona uses just a little pressure to turn Cater's head to one side and then the ohter, as though getting a better look at him. whatever he sees is still filtered through this haze of dream-fueled madness, though, and all Leona sees for now is someone he wants to devour.]
Then you're exactly where you want to be, aren't you?
After tonight, you'll never be hungry again.
[the laughter shared between the hyenas this time is a bit more sinister, and so is the smirk on Leona's face.]
Then you're exactly where you want to be, aren't you?
After tonight, you'll never be hungry again.
[the laughter shared between the hyenas this time is a bit more sinister, and so is the smirk on Leona's face.]
I like a man who knows how to build up the hype.
[Leona's words were just as much a threat as they were a promise. The kind of end to hunger he was being offered very likely had nothing to do with having a full belly--but just the opposite. And that, now that he was here, felt even less of a problem than before.
He was scared, he found--but less so scared of the fangs and claws all around him than he was of how appealing it all sounded to him. So what, if he was handled like a prize cut of meat? Better to be that than something altogether discarded. It's bold of him, he knows, but as Cater's eyes stay trained on that thrillingly ravenous smile, his hands start to run up Leona's legs.]
My bones better be clean by the time you're done with me.
[Leona's words were just as much a threat as they were a promise. The kind of end to hunger he was being offered very likely had nothing to do with having a full belly--but just the opposite. And that, now that he was here, felt even less of a problem than before.
He was scared, he found--but less so scared of the fangs and claws all around him than he was of how appealing it all sounded to him. So what, if he was handled like a prize cut of meat? Better to be that than something altogether discarded. It's bold of him, he knows, but as Cater's eyes stay trained on that thrillingly ravenous smile, his hands start to run up Leona's legs.]
My bones better be clean by the time you're done with me.
Demanding, aren't you?
[Leona's learned to find a thrill in being feared, but there's a thrill to this, too. Cater offers himself like he really wants to be devoured, and that's new, somehow. Leona leans back again, pulling at Cater just a little bit as he does so; not forcing, but commanding Cater to follow him.]
In this palace, not a morsel goes to waste.
[We'll eat the bones, too! chortles another hyena, and this time Leona really does seem like they're far from his mind. he continues, guiding Cater into his lap;]
Do you fear your king, Cater?
[he hasn't been given this subject's name, but he knows it. locked deeper in a dream than he's been before, Leona can't clock that as being strange just yet. of course he knows the name of this man.
what doesn't he know?]
[Leona's learned to find a thrill in being feared, but there's a thrill to this, too. Cater offers himself like he really wants to be devoured, and that's new, somehow. Leona leans back again, pulling at Cater just a little bit as he does so; not forcing, but commanding Cater to follow him.]
In this palace, not a morsel goes to waste.
[We'll eat the bones, too! chortles another hyena, and this time Leona really does seem like they're far from his mind. he continues, guiding Cater into his lap;]
Do you fear your king, Cater?
[he hasn't been given this subject's name, but he knows it. locked deeper in a dream than he's been before, Leona can't clock that as being strange just yet. of course he knows the name of this man.
what doesn't he know?]
[Is he maybe a little too eager to be beckoned up, into Leona's lap? He barely has to be pulled at all, climbing onto him like it's a seat he's already well familiar with.]
Fear's not the first word that comes to mind.
[Was there no fear? Not exactly. But the fear didn't matter--the fear was inconsequential, compared to everything else. Cater's eyes dare to scrape over the body he's perched upon, from the tussled mane to the bloody clothes, and runs fingers down that exposed chest.]
I'm awed by you.
Fear's not the first word that comes to mind.
[Was there no fear? Not exactly. But the fear didn't matter--the fear was inconsequential, compared to everything else. Cater's eyes dare to scrape over the body he's perched upon, from the tussled mane to the bloody clothes, and runs fingers down that exposed chest.]
I'm awed by you.
[to Leona, for a moment, it feels like there is no sound but Cater's voice. whether that's true or not doesn't register to him.]
You should be.
[he should, shouldn't he? that's the way this should be. Cater should be in awe (or was it, he should be afraid?) and Leona's hand should be on him exactly as it is, cupping Cater's face, dragging his claws down Cater's cheek and neck and into the collar of his top—
into the fabric, clutching there, so he can pull Cater closer. it's almost into a kiss, it seems, at first, but then Leona goes further, mouth meeting Cater's neck. his teeth graze Cater's skin, but his focus is more on taking in his scent at first, and he glides his rough tongue over the path he'd just traced with his claws.]
You should be.
[he should, shouldn't he? that's the way this should be. Cater should be in awe (or was it, he should be afraid?) and Leona's hand should be on him exactly as it is, cupping Cater's face, dragging his claws down Cater's cheek and neck and into the collar of his top—
into the fabric, clutching there, so he can pull Cater closer. it's almost into a kiss, it seems, at first, but then Leona goes further, mouth meeting Cater's neck. his teeth graze Cater's skin, but his focus is more on taking in his scent at first, and he glides his rough tongue over the path he'd just traced with his claws.]
[Oh how easily Cater's worlds blended together--how much was him, how much was the whore? How much was the want to be craved and how much was the want to be torn apart? And how much of all of that was just part of this dream? It didn't really matter, ultimately. Leona draws him in and Cater shivers under him with palpable delight. Every taste of tooth and claw and tongue was a promise of more, that every piece of pain would come with that much more pleasure.
Fuck, he wants it. Wants these strong jaws to reduce him to shreds. Feeding his king would be the best thing he ever did. Cater presses forward into Leona, arms coming around him in an embrace that's just as needy as it is tender--and it's obvious, already, that he's aroused.]
How do I taste?
Fuck, he wants it. Wants these strong jaws to reduce him to shreds. Feeding his king would be the best thing he ever did. Cater presses forward into Leona, arms coming around him in an embrace that's just as needy as it is tender--and it's obvious, already, that he's aroused.]
How do I taste?
Like a meal,
[Leona confirms, his whisper like a growl. he holds Cater where he is, the blood and ink on his chest soaking into Cater's top, contaminating that space. beneath Cater, Leona's arousal is apparent as well, his slacks already undone from the hyena on his lap before.]
I want more.
[and with that declaration, he sinks his teeth into Cater's neck, sucking at his skin as he does so. they press hard, without the restraint Leona shows awake, and heat begins to dribble down between them. at the same time his claws drag up Cater's back, pulling him into the rocking motion of their hips, desperate for that contact to be made.
as he loses himself in Cater, though, the hands and claws of the hyenas grow as dark as their faces, eyes lighting up white. they reach for Cater, cackling as they do, but all their own efforts do is tear the fabric fom his shoulders, freeing him from the cover of his shirt. sycophantic and chattering, they surround the throne, whispering of their hunger— how good Cater must taste. how satisfying his bones will be.
remember, boss, leave enough for us, the voices hiss. remember, boss, he's ours when you're done.
even this throne is ours when you're done.
and though they continue, Leona hums against Cater's skin, pushes one hand into Cater's hair and holds him tighter.]
[Leona confirms, his whisper like a growl. he holds Cater where he is, the blood and ink on his chest soaking into Cater's top, contaminating that space. beneath Cater, Leona's arousal is apparent as well, his slacks already undone from the hyena on his lap before.]
I want more.
[and with that declaration, he sinks his teeth into Cater's neck, sucking at his skin as he does so. they press hard, without the restraint Leona shows awake, and heat begins to dribble down between them. at the same time his claws drag up Cater's back, pulling him into the rocking motion of their hips, desperate for that contact to be made.
as he loses himself in Cater, though, the hands and claws of the hyenas grow as dark as their faces, eyes lighting up white. they reach for Cater, cackling as they do, but all their own efforts do is tear the fabric fom his shoulders, freeing him from the cover of his shirt. sycophantic and chattering, they surround the throne, whispering of their hunger— how good Cater must taste. how satisfying his bones will be.
remember, boss, leave enough for us, the voices hiss. remember, boss, he's ours when you're done.
even this throne is ours when you're done.
and though they continue, Leona hums against Cater's skin, pushes one hand into Cater's hair and holds him tighter.]
[How can Cater care about all of it--any of it--when jaws are closing around his neck? His breath pinches with so much more than pain as he curves inward, following the trace of Leona's claws against him. It doesn't matter that his clothing is all but shredded off of him. The blot coming off of Leona mixes so perfectly with the inky marks all along his own body--a fading patchwork of compliments begging to be refreshed. A well-fed beast was better than anything that could be written there, he's already decided. Surely, he had enough to give for all these mouths that needed feeding.
But the rest of them could wait. His own fingers claw into Leona, into his beautiful mane and his royal clothes. Cater moans, eyes fluttering. It didn't matter, did it, if that mouth came away bloody, if he took his jugular right from his throat? He'd work and he'd work and he'd work until their hunger was sated. And then, maybe, finally, so his own would be.]
But the rest of them could wait. His own fingers claw into Leona, into his beautiful mane and his royal clothes. Cater moans, eyes fluttering. It didn't matter, did it, if that mouth came away bloody, if he took his jugular right from his throat? He'd work and he'd work and he'd work until their hunger was sated. And then, maybe, finally, so his own would be.]
[day after day it gnaws at the core of his being— that hunger of Leona's does. the petty complaints of the hyenas around him can't move him to care about their needs. they don't understand his pain. they will never understand this itch, deep, persistent, profound—
oh, but the metallic tang of Cater's blood is as hydrating as sweet water in this parched savanna, the sound of his voice more filling than the meat he's been brought for weeks, months. years? he can't remember, he doesn't care, it doesn't matter. nothing matters, and nothing is fair, but this feels like something.
Leona pulls away from Cater, mouth dripping red and black, and licks his teeth as he admires the mark left and the way it almost seems to glow from how strangely, unrealistically red it resonates in this dream. that redness seems to overtake all color in this dark, barely-starlit throne room, becoming the gentle light that connects Leona and Cater in this moment.
he leans back in almost immediately, kissing down Cater's neck and collarbone and chest, painting kissmarks in blood, smearing away words with it as though he can rewrite the tapestry of praise in red, ink, and teeth. hand braced against Cater's back, Leona lowers him between his legs as he does, so that Cater's shoulderblades and head will be braced against the ground before him, as if Leona intends to crawl over top of him.]
oh, but the metallic tang of Cater's blood is as hydrating as sweet water in this parched savanna, the sound of his voice more filling than the meat he's been brought for weeks, months. years? he can't remember, he doesn't care, it doesn't matter. nothing matters, and nothing is fair, but this feels like something.
Leona pulls away from Cater, mouth dripping red and black, and licks his teeth as he admires the mark left and the way it almost seems to glow from how strangely, unrealistically red it resonates in this dream. that redness seems to overtake all color in this dark, barely-starlit throne room, becoming the gentle light that connects Leona and Cater in this moment.
he leans back in almost immediately, kissing down Cater's neck and collarbone and chest, painting kissmarks in blood, smearing away words with it as though he can rewrite the tapestry of praise in red, ink, and teeth. hand braced against Cater's back, Leona lowers him between his legs as he does, so that Cater's shoulderblades and head will be braced against the ground before him, as if Leona intends to crawl over top of him.]
[It was better. This was better. The praise that he'd received from all his past customers--he couldn't remember. Colorless, faded compliments. The red between them was brilliant and vibrant even if it shouldn't have been. Even if that vivid color draining out of him should have been causing him to languish, Cater felt more rejuvenated than ever.
Leona lowers him back and Cater raises his arms toward him, limbs an outstretched invitation, eyes full of so much of everything that should be fear but isn't. Lust and longing and eagerness. Lips parted and panting, Cater manages a hazy half-smile at the predator poised above him.
He's not running from this--but how could he? It didn't matter that there was no escaping when nothing about him wanted to.]
Leona lowers him back and Cater raises his arms toward him, limbs an outstretched invitation, eyes full of so much of everything that should be fear but isn't. Lust and longing and eagerness. Lips parted and panting, Cater manages a hazy half-smile at the predator poised above him.
He's not running from this--but how could he? It didn't matter that there was no escaping when nothing about him wanted to.]
[did he need that invitation? it feels like everything to be welcomed into Cater's arms. he could tear this man to pieces— intends to!— and yet Leona finds himself pressing into him intimately, joining him there on the stone tile and pressing their foreheads together, nuzzling their faces. his body seeks the affection his mind can't remember it's allowed to find.
he draws his claw up Cater's chest in a line, and that bright neon blood follows it. why does this neon remind him of Cater, anyway? why does this blood feel so much like him? the more Leona presses against him, the more that blood spills from Cater, the brighter it glows— the more it feels like he knows him, like he's tasted Cater's kiss before.
what is this scent? why does he know it? why does he want it? why is he hesitating to turn this man to sand?
that glow contaminates the both of them with Leona's nuzzling, and with his hand coated in it, he presses his palm to Cater's cheek. while he settles between Cater's thighs, cock hard and flush against Cater's own arousal, he tugs Cater's face again into another kiss, revelling in Cater's embrace.]
he draws his claw up Cater's chest in a line, and that bright neon blood follows it. why does this neon remind him of Cater, anyway? why does this blood feel so much like him? the more Leona presses against him, the more that blood spills from Cater, the brighter it glows— the more it feels like he knows him, like he's tasted Cater's kiss before.
what is this scent? why does he know it? why does he want it? why is he hesitating to turn this man to sand?
that glow contaminates the both of them with Leona's nuzzling, and with his hand coated in it, he presses his palm to Cater's cheek. while he settles between Cater's thighs, cock hard and flush against Cater's own arousal, he tugs Cater's face again into another kiss, revelling in Cater's embrace.]
[on valentine's day, leona will find some hot honey pepperoni and brie bites on his kitchen counter! ...along with some donuts for ruggie.]
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