Idk if u do anon requests given ur rules but I am a scared lil guy when it comes to sending ppl asks. I know you don't need to feel obligated to write it, but I wanted to share my silly little musings with someone at least, if you don't mind ^^
My brain doesn't want to shut up about the idea of a monster reader akin to Anansi's goatman joining the Touden party with malintent, only to be intimidated out of their plans by the fact the party constantly eats monsters. Despite them wanting to run, they're stuck there because the party will realize they've been infiltrated and probably eat them like all the other monsters if they find out.
i absolutely love anon requests! they are so lovely to receive i just kind of write depending on my current interest at the moment
3.4 k words / warnings - gore right off the bat, reader goes through psychological horror at the hands of laios touden, laios forcing the party into extreme situations
summary - that time laios domesticated a monster and everyone was mad at him.
~~~
You’re starving. You’re parched. You’re dizzy.
A woman is screaming in the corner, her eyes bulging from her head and hands clamped over her gaping mouth. Knees wobbling before she collapses to the ground, palms scraping against the floor in a final ditch effort to save herself. She screams louder when your head slowly rolls -- slanted eyes still on her frantic form.
Long fingers scoop from the bowl of a half-foot’s gut, you cup shreds of meat and stringing firm, warm innards to your mouth while maintaining focus on the woman.
No matter how much you eat, you’re starving. No matter what you drink, you’re parched.
The only solace you find in hearty meals is that the pressurized ache behind your skull fades, and with it goes the dazed sensation. You can walk firm and tall. You can stretch out and speak.
You can speak, “Come… here…”
She freezes. Wide eyes scrambling over you. Chest twitching with hyperventilation, “We gave you the half-foot! What else do you want?!”
Swallowing chunks of gummy flesh trapped in your teeth, you speak again, “Come… Now… Come…”
“No, please,” she whimpers, snot and tears dripping, “Please, please, please!”
She rocks onto her back, tumbling around to her feet and sprawling for a weapon. She finds one the big man used, she holds it up and her arms shake under the weight. She doesn’t pose a real threat that way -- she hadn’t lifted a finger to help the group fight.
Rising onto two feet, you tower over her and reach out, cupping her face with both hands. Thumbing the fat on her cheeks and pulling her ears, you croak,
“Mine…”
.
.
.
A red dragon used to plague this floor, you don’t hear him anymore. You feel confident to venture from your cave for more meal.
Recently, the hunger has gotten so bad you’ve begun drooling over yourself. Despite not caring for your appearance, the feeling is bothersome. The sensation of saliva-matted fur around your muzzle reminds you of the vacancy in your stomach.
Bravely creeping from the lulling warmth of your cavern, you come into the open grass and watch dire wolves nose at Barometz stalks. Unripe, ruby fruits shine under leaking light from higher places. Gold bounces off the fur of ripened fruits. You’re sure they’ll be harvested soon. Your only derision with unripe Barometz fruits is the smaller lamb. Even then, you cannot complain when the wolves more than make up for a lack of meat.
Just as you set to slide down the mossy wall, a red blur hastens toward the middle of the field. Large, pointed black ears twitch which gives you pause. The pale skin you can make out and thick cloth stresses to you that it's a human, but those ears and the hunched posture tell otherwise. Either way, it will have meat.
A man approaches, rushing behind the red blur, his tin shell clinks as he runs. He’s yelling. He can speak.
Long, gold hair and blue furs run after him -- two more men after the blonde woman. A group. A group made of thick bodies, sans the weird-looking red one and the child. No matter, they can fill your shriveled intestine while you divy the thick ones.
Or perhaps just the stout one could fill you. His broad frame is swollen with muscle and he looks well-kept: strong and lively.
Just the thought of cinching his fat thigh makes you swallow another well of spittle. As the wolves close in, the red and blue ones cut from the group, and you merely watch. Dead meat is still meat. If one party kills the other then all you have to do is interfere before they start eating their game.
The tin man gets low, on all fours, before yelping and barking like a rabid beast. He snarls and flails -- startling away the few wolves straggling behind.
After robing, you slide down the crag only to hiss as jagged rocks snag new skin. Spending so much time in your natural form makes the transition to a new face that much more difficult to acclimate to.
You’d lick up the thin blood trails if the three remaining bodies weren’t now gazing at you in shock.
The furthest away, the brown-headed child, scowls at your very presence. While the tin man seems to be fighting back an eager approach.
“Who are you?” the child bites from the back of the pack, eyes narrow and harsh.
An axe’s glint draws your attention to the stocky one. He’s raised his weapon against you.
Flashing yourself a downward glance, you confirm you’re in a human form. Are humans more distrusting the lower they venture?
You open your mouth, then think better of it, pointing to your throat and shaking your head.
“Mute, huh?” again, the child speaks before casting the tin man a look. His instant deferral makes you wonder if the tall one is the leader. Then the child looks to the short one, “Senshi…”
If that’s a secret code among them, you cannot make it out.
What do you look like?
Who did you last steal?
You mask another cursory study of yourself as a frustrated huff and sniffle -- the woman. The healer woman. These all seem to be men, and men are usually softer when you take the form of a woman.
You sniffle louder, frowning and covering your face.
“Ah,” the child stumbles back, “Senshi!”
“What?” the short one gruffs. So that must be its name, not a code.
“Do something!”
“Did you lose your party?” the tin man approaches instead of ‘Senshi’. His face is gentle, nothing but patience written in the low lid of his eyes.
Pathetically, you nod.
“Laios!” the child hisses. Is that another name?
“I’m Laios,” the tin man instantly confirms, then gesturing toward the child, “That’s Chilchuck. And this is Senshi,” his brows draw, “How’d you get down here by yourself?”
How did you meet this woman?
Wiping away cold blotches in your waterline, you point upwards before dramatically slamming the hand downward.
“You fell?” Chilchuck sounds suspicious.
Oh, well. Womanly charms (tears) can’t work on kids, you suppose.
“It’s possible,” Laios defends.
“If there was a faster way to get us down here, don’t you think I would’ve taken us through there?”
The pair glare at each other with Senshi a silent third party, though his axe remains raised. Abruptly, a sickening growl cracks through the air. Borderline blood curdling in the low, raw gurgle seeping from your stomach.
Manufacturing embarrassment, you cup the pouch of your tummy and shake your head apologetically.
“Are you hungry?” Laios asks redundantly, then offers a hand. His smile is just as soft as it had been moments ago, but something about its serenity ignites your brain.
A tingle races down your spine. Breath sputtering a moment and guts coiling unpleasantly. You can feel sweat bead your forehead regardless of the chilly breeze.
You haven’t felt like this since you first opened your goopy eyes to the dungeon’s lower levels. Like he’s about to spear you through the chest. Like he’s twice your size.
Blinking free from your stupor, you nod clumsily and take his hand. It's warm. Yours is clammy.
“Is this a good idea…?” Chilchuck looks up at Senshi, wringing his hands.
Before you can properly hear Senshi’s response, Laios is already pulling you towards the cavern that red blur darted out of. He climbs in first and pulls you in -- Senshi politely avoids looking up while following after. You sit between Laios and Chilchuck in the cavern, watching Laios’ hands skim over the large, unripe Barowitz. Without considering the action, you find yourself licking your lips as he leans his face against the fruit. His cheek puffing out.
Suddenly, his gaze is honed on you again, “As soon as Marcille and Izutsumi are back, we can start eating.”
You nod excitedly. Once the other two are back, you can release and consume. A group of five is sure to satiate you at long last. You’ve never seen such a large collection of bodies. You won’t ever have to eat again after this meal.
Your excitement is tempered when you catch a glimpse of Chilchuck in your peripherals.
Child. A child is down here?
Don’t humans usually put the lives of their young before their own?
You point at Chilchuck, hoping the child will relax once you demonstrate some maternal instinct. Mothers want their kids to eat, right? It sounds right. Your maker always watched you eat before diving in Himself.
“Chilchuck?” Laios murmurs, “What about him?”
Instinctually, your mouth opens again, only to clack shut again. You tap your lips then point to him again. Then you drag a finger through the smatter of dirt and dust along the cold floor. A risky move to write, but you’ve practiced well enough to pass.
EAT FIRST
Laios raises a brow at you, “Why would he eat first?”
CHILD
Laios smiles wider than even before.
Chilchuck scoffs, an overt anger filling his tone, “I’m not a child! How ignorant are you?!”
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Is he just a very short human like Senshi? But how is he so slight? How are his ears so big?
What is he?
Before any response can form from any person in the tunnel, the blue and red ones creep out from the darkness. Laios stands and approaches the pair. Blonde woman, the variety that has pointy ears -- you’ve seen lots of them down here -- continuously glances at you. She murmurs to Laios while the red one is leaning against her.
It stands on its hinds like a human, it groans like a human, it looks like a human sans the tail hanging between its legs and ears pointing upward. It's skinny, whatever it is. It was fast, looks like it has a useful face to steal.
You watch the group jabber amongst themselves, with the woman heatedly berating her fellow man for taking you in. Despite her harsh words, Laios’ face never falls: whether he’s truly so forgiving or just thrives off negative attention you’re unsure.
“I just have a good feeling,” his eyes pierce through you, and that tickle up your spine returns.
“Oh, good,” she grumbles.
“In any case, we’re all hungry,” at the prompt, Senshi moves towards the Barometz and steadies a hand against it, “I wanted to harvest a Barometz, but all the ripe ones were taken by dire wolves.”
Senshi punctures the fruit’s skin with a blade, cutting along the circumference, “Let’s see if we can cook it.”
Once halved, the side not supported by Senshi’s hand slips open with the premature lamb limply collapsing to the floor. Gelatinous bones jiggling against rock.
The thing with fur leans forward, “There’s a little sheep in the vegetable!”
“Aah! I can’t!” blue one grimaces, covering her face while Chilchuck gags, “For completely different ethical reasons, I refuse!”
You quirk a brow at her interjection -- food is food, no? They can dole out the fruit and get plump before you finally soothe your own aching gut. You’re almost tempted to rip back tight, uncomfortable skin and end the woman’s misery when Senshi’s voice calls to you.
“First cut up the Barometz ribs into whatever size proportion you want. Season them, sear them, add wine over top, cover the pan, and then braise them,” you watch as he casually defiles a creature he cannot understand, sizzling it and burning away faux fats.
You’ve never seen humans that bite back.
No matter how harmless a Barometz is, you’re in shock to see him searing up what is technically a monster.
“Next, boil the remainder of the fruit, peel off the skin, and cut it into chunks. Add some garlic and simmer it all together. With the sauce finished, you take that, pour it over the meat and… it’s ready!”
Barometz Balut.
“This helping’s yours, cat girl. Go on, take it.”
“What’s all the weird-looking stuff?”
While Senshi and ‘cat girl’ are locked in a debate, the man hands the woman in blue a serving as well. Her lips are stretched downward, her brows knotted towards the center of her forehead.
“Come on, Marcille, you’ve eaten Harpy eggs before. This should be easy!”
Harpy… eggs. Their young? What benefit does a Harpy egg provide? There is no meat. To eat that is to consume a beast simply because they can.
“That was out of desperation! I didn’t like them!”
She consumes despite it being unfulfilling? That, truly, is eating solely to prove it possible.
Your hands shake at your sides at the thought.
“That’s not true,” Laios denies.
“Okay, fine, they were… ugh. They were fine!”
“It’s okay, we all liked them. I think my favorite has been the red dragon, though,” Laios is positively beaming at you now.
The red dragon. He’s why the field’s warden has gone missing. Your shock is not lost on any of the group.
When your horror is evident, Chilchuck and the woman -Marcille- shoot forward while waving their hands around. As if to physically bat away any unsavory accusations.
“It was seasoned and cut up!” Chilchuck shouts, “We didn’t even eat all of it!”
Marcille nods rapidly, clutching the wood slat of food to her chest, “Yeah, we only had a little bit compared to how big it was!”
They scavenge the young and waste a beast as magnificent as the red dragon?
“We ate it because it ate my sister,” he’s still smiling.
A raucous chorus of his name is shrieked in protest.
Your breathing spikes, now certainly slick with sweat and chest thudding -- forget finally ending your hunger with them, how could they squander the red dragon? How could they still starve after eating such a large monster? Your palms find the floor, eyes flicking to the opening of the cavern.
When your gaze returns, Laios is staring at you. Wide amber eyes melting through your facade -- he knows, he must. How long has he known? Why not kill you as soon as he figured it out? Why lure you in?
The red one -Izutsumi- tilts its head at you, nose twitching. It smells the influx of sweat and dread.
You shoot up, opening your mouth for a husky growl, “Away… get… away…”
“I knew it!” Laios stands, “Oh, wow, I thought goatmen were extinct!”
He’s going to slice you open and they’ll eat you for fun. They won’t finish you. They’ll leave you for your maker to find.
“Goatman?!” Chilchuck wails, “You invited a goatman into the party?! Laios, I could strangle you!”
He’d kill his own ally?!
“So cool, though, and so far pretty harmless. I’ve heard they can be domesticated by feeding them brains every now and again.”
“Brain…” you shiver, flailing back into the wall, “No… Brain… No…”
Laios turns to Senshi with a preppy little smile, “It’s not an exact match, but the Barometz has something akin to a brain.”
These things are demons. No wonder your maker wants to devour them all.
Why eat a brain? You’d have to destroy the skull for that, and you need to keep the skull intact to steal a human’s face.
Senshi shrugs and hacks open the lamb’s skull with a loud crack, making you flinch back and yelp.
“First, chop the brain into four parts, season with olive oil and sprouts. Roll the brains in egg and wrap with bread. Normally you’d use crumbs or flour, but we’ll have to make due. Then fry in the pan with more oil over medium heat until…”
Laios snatches the brains from Senshi to shove onto your lap,
“It’s ready!”
FRIED LAMB BRAINS.
Senshi watches you carefully from beneath the shadow of his helmet. Meanwhile Marcille and Izutsumi are poised to attack with Chilchuck lingering in the very back. Those three are only additional to the presence of Laios, who looms above you with sword in hand. Eyes fiery with exhilaration, though he’s visibly ready to cut you down should you try escaping.
Your stomach echoes through the cavern. Drool pools and oozes through the gaps in your teeth, it smells good. So, with truly no other choice, you bring the fried brains to your mouth.
Oddly sweet, the juices are warm and electric on your tongue. You let out a soft hum and shovel more of the brains back. Again, you hum. You tip the wood slat and scoop all the meat down your gullet, licking the excess juices up and even sweeping crumbs into your mouth.
By the time your meal was picked clean, you felt something entirely new.
“Full…” you look up in amazement, wide eyed at Laios, “Full…”
A small hand cracks against Laios’ silver back, Chilchuck shouting in sharp, throaty tones that are completely unfamiliar to you. Laios frowns and murmurs about being sworn out in a foreign tongue.
Then Izutsumi yanks away, whipping her head back and forth, “Reeks in here!”
Chilchuck points at you, though is still glaring up at Laios, “And it smells!”
“Goatmen smell like goats,” Laios frowns.
Marcille hesitantly hangs a loose, thin blanket in front of you -- it takes you a moment to realize human skin is peeling off you in chunks. The faint scent of copper growing into a heavy, rotten stench of open carcass as you shed the woman’s skin. You’ve never prematurely ejected before. Normally, once you wear a person’s face you’re stuck there until it withers. Or you peel it off.
The smell gets so bad that Chilchuck and Izutsumi huff and storm to a neighboring hole in the cliff’s rockface. Marcille has to press her nose into the crook of her elbow, the sheet shaking as you stretch free from the woman’s body.
Unbeknownst to you, there is a silent battle between Marcille and Senshi. Until Laios, of course, breaks it.
“Why are you two glaring at each other?”
You rise to a stand, watching Marcille cast you a set of distrusting eyes before seething, “What should we do about it?”
“It ain’t doing anything wrong.”
“It’s a monster!” she turns suddenly towards Laios, “Didn’t you say all monsters are dangerous?!”
“They are,” Laios reaches towards his sword, squeezing the hilt and eyes sunken to the floor, “but it’s not like we were in real danger. Goatmen are pretty harmless in human forms.”
Marcille makes a startled groan behind clenched teeth, hands jerking out towards you.
“Fed goatmen are completely docile,” Laios reasons, “They only kill to eat. They’re more like an animal than a traditional monster.”
“So how do we know it won’t kill us when it gets hungry again?!”
Laios’ eyes seem to burst alight with stars, “Because we’ve fed it already! Before they were endangered some people would go down into dungeons just to domesticate and breed them for the surface. Once you prove yourself formidable and trustworthy, they’re pretty unwilling to try fighting you.”
“It can talk,” Senshi adds, “We can’t kill it just because.”
Marcille’s face goes red, a frustrated sigh leaving her lips, “It barely talks.”
You were taught words by your maker. He speaks with more clarity and ease than you do.
“It still talks,” Senshi doesn’t budge, “It ain't attacking either.”
For a moment, you contemplate killing these people.
Immediately, you’re repulsed by the mere thought. To see their soft faces and warm bodies torn open and to be smeared with their insides is so undesirable you heave. Brain rushing up your throat before you can swallow it down.
“Marcille live,” you caw, the woman looks up at you and you repeat yourself at her blank stare thinking she misunderstood you, “Want Marcille… alive…”
“Aw,” her coo is uneven, lips twitching in a way that, if you were better at reading people, would make you think she doesn’t trust you, “That’s actually kind of… nice?”
“I read they were loyal but I didn’t think the bonding process was so fast,” Laios marvels. Reaching out to lay a hand against your snout, he beams -- this has been a close second beast he’s dreamt of meeting. Number one still being a minotaur.
He’d been content to keep this interaction a daydream, since goatmen were thought extinct -- but look at you! Never had he thought something mythed to descend from demons could be so docile, and so…
“So cool…” Laios is boiling over with pure ecstasy as you tip your head down to fit more comfortably into his palm.
Senshi gathers the group’s remaining bags and announces he’ll re-settle camp with Chilchuck and Izutsumi. Although there’s a bonus pep in his step as he ponders jotting this whole day in his journal.
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