Demon's Hide

The Tentacles Plants: Third Part

Female Reader x Nonbinary Monster

Your friend had given you a small, potted succulent. It was pink along the tips and faded into a soft, pale green. It was cute, but you had no idea why your friend would give you such a thing.

"I feel like, when I got mine," she said, trying to explain herself, "life just got a little better you know." A soft smile crosses her face. You wonder if a plant could really bring that sort of serenity to someone's face.

You take it home, and per her instructions you put it in a window where it is sure to get a lot of light. You set it in your bedroom on the windowsill above your bed. You also feed it sugar water once a week. You're not sure why the sugar water matter, but she adamant you keep that that one important step.

The plant seems to be growing exceptionally fast. You didn't think succulents grew at such a rate. You had barely had it a month and already had to repot it twice. When you asked your friend about it she just laughed.

"Oh yeah, I dealt with that too. Give it another month. It's worth it in the long run."

You can't help but feel like she's playing a joke on you, but you do as she says. She's one of the few people in your life who doesn't look down on you. In fact she's one of the only people who doesn't say anything about your weight. It's been an ongoing struggle for you.

You've been considering a new job. One of your co-workers has been getting on your every last nerve. When you complain to your boss about it he simply says 'he's just joking'. It's becoming not just a problem for you, but for some of your other co-workers as well. His 'joking' seems to mainly targeted on your because of your weight. He sends you crude emails and makes jokes around you, calling you weak puns on Jabba the Hut and Opera off her diet. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

You had worked all your life building up a tough skin. Your mother had taught you that. She told you that if people couldn't look past something as silly as weight, they didn't deserve something as important as your heart. Although, after your mother has died, it felt like that tough shell you had built up crumbled away. You were vulnerable and sensitive again to things you had thought you concurred.

So now, as you trudge home after a painfully long day at work, you find that you're looking forward to giving your plant it's weekly sugar water. You come home and as your hanging up your keys and bag you hear something rustling in your bedroom. Your chest seizes up and you feel a cold pit in your stomach. You tip-toe quietly, picking up a heavy knick-knack incase you needed to attack.

As you peek inside your bedroom you only see your plant. It's long little vines, draping over the edge of the shelf like a curtain. You sigh, sitting down your weapon. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub your eyes. You had been fighting back tears all day. It was your mother's birthday, your first one without her. Not only did you have that to deal with, but when you were telling some friends at the office about it the bully was listening. He then sent you some awful edit of Jabba the Hut holding a much small Jabba the Hut. It was about all your could take.

You then feel something on your shoulders, like fingers rubbing in. You nearly scream but then something presses against your lips.

"It's ok," a gentle voice murmurs. "It's just me."

That didn't help anything. You glance to your shoulder, seeing the soft vines of your plant were kneading your shoulders and arms. Looking up you see it move off the shelf and come down towards you.

"Was it that guy again?" It asks.

"I uh-" you're not sure how to react. It's seems impossible. Maybe you're dreaming.