#a monster might begin to worry
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anistarrose · 2 years ago
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a monster might begin to worry
As soon as Kalen reenters his penthouse apartment, he casts off his hood to uncover his face — highly priced on wanted posters, and even more punchable. His silent observer almost springs the ambush right there, but holds back the urge — he’d rather kill this bastard right the first time than have to necromance up a second opportunity, and risk detection.
“Lights!” Kalen demands, and when the room stays dark, he snaps his fingers for emphasis. “Hello?! I said lights, James!”
Behind him, the door’s three deadbolts click into place, each without a physical touch to guide them. The sound is deafening, compared to the quiet that suffocates the rest of the sixty-fifth floor — and Kalen flinches, his hand falling uselessly to the purely ornamental dagger at his waist.
“What is the meaning of —”
He stops short at sight of the belated lights. They flicker on one by one, starting at the far end of the room, but all glow blood red — a fitting color in which to bathe the bodyguards lying still on the floor, so close that Kalen could’ve tripped over them.
And above them, looming above the corpses, a nondescript figure — a mere ghost of a crimson silhouette — appears closer in each flash of the crimson light.
“I have been waiting,” the assassin rasps, with unbridled fury, “for you, Governor.”
Kalen has already turned to run, but the second he lays a hand on a deadbolt, a shock from a pre-placed spell courses through him, hurtling him backwards. It’s enough to catapult him through the spectral robe, across the whole penthouse — crashing into the grand west window, toppling onto the balcony, bathed in a shower of broken glass —
But the collision is still utterly silent, suffocated in sheer magical fury, and before Kalen can even scramble to his feet, something tightens around his chest — something that feels like it’s gripping him directly by his heart — and yanks him back through the window, back inside.
“You can’t run from me.” The lich makes a fist, twisting the red threads coiled around his fingers, and Kalen jerks to his feet like a suspended marionette. “Cowardly sack of shit.”
(keep reading on ao3!)
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anistarrose · 2 years ago
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Image description: a cat looking at a phone, with photoshopped crying eyes, and a bunch of heart emojis all around it. End description.
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I think the only thing I still wanted was to — to prove I could still protect someone, or avenge someone, anyone, and — and go out with a bang that made me feel worth something again. A — a real heroic sacrifice —”
Barry drops everything, and before Magnus knows it, throws his arms over Magnus’s shoulders. Hugging him tight.
I read this scene from the last chapter of "a monster might begin to worry" by @anistarrose a few days ago and immediately started drawing this scene, because I couldn't just feel emotions about it and not do anything!!
Everyone go read this fic! I will be thinking about it for the next six hundred years.
(image ID in alt!)
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ozzgin · 11 months ago
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Yandere! House Monster x Reader
Listen, I woke up in cold sweat at 4am with a vision: you and your stereotypically unavailable gamer boyfriend have moved into a new house. You find out very soon it's not as empty as you had assumed, but your worries fall on deaf ears. The tentacle monster lurking in dark corners just wants to make sure you're not lonely.
[Second Part]
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance (mildly NSFW)
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You didn't notice anything strange at first. Maybe it was considering its prey. You'd found a cheap, old house available for rent, and your boyfriend couldn't refuse the extra space for his mancave.
Oh, you poor thing. It watched your lonely evenings, your empty bed at night, your futile attempts to spend more time with your beloved partner. It had originally planned to devour your souls and await the next foolish mortals to enter its realm, but seeing your pitiful state prompted a change of heart. Metaphorical heart, of course.
It started gradually: testing the waters, or what you'd call a courting attempt. Doors opening by themselves, disembodied eyes lovingly gazing at you from the nearby walls. Dark tendrils making their way out of the shadows, just to announce its presence.
"I think this place might be cursed", you told your boyfriend one evening. "I've been stalked by amorphous silhouettes of blight and terror, and they whisper ancient blasphemies to me at night." He let out a worried shout and slapped the desk. "That's cool, babe. I'm kind of losing right now, though, so perhaps give me a minute?"
One night you were awakened from your slumber by a warm touch sliding across your body. You smiled into your pillow as the cheeky hands made their way down, fondling your curves and hungrily searching for your sensitive areas. You let out a soft moan, enjoying the moment, until you heard your boyfriend yell from the other room. Your eyes shot open.
The hands lewdly groping your privates were, in fact, tentacles. Your first reaction was to gasp, but you were quickly silenced by another slippery appendage pressing against your lips. Shh, shh. Allow the creature to do its thing, dear. Surely enough, within minutes you were a drooling mess, holding onto the sheets for dear life.
"You've been in a good mood lately", you boyfriend remarks, idly scrolling on his phone and crunching on his breakfast cereal. You ponder if you should tell him you've been fucked relentlessly by a monstrous creature inhabiting your new home. You glance at the counter and smirk, remembering how you just had to wipe your wet mess from it a few hours ago. "Keep it that way, hun, I could get used to not being pestered every hour", the man jokes with a laugh.
Does it count as cheating if your affair partner isn't really human? Although, you have to wonder if you're still dating to begin with. From the corner of your eye, you can discern faint movement above the young man, a shadow looming menacingly. The eldritch monster would not hesitate to tear your poor boyfriend apart if he tried to mess with its belonging.
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞
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❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞
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✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader
✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika
✧ wc: 4,916
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Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 
‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 
Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 
Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 
Don’t do this, girl. 
Another message. 
What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience
What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 
Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 
You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 
All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 
You needed better friends. 
So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 
You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 
Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 
“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 
You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 
The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 
“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 
Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 
But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 
You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 
“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 
You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 
He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 
Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 
Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 
“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 
“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 
He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 
“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 
You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 
“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 
His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 
Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 
You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 
“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“
Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 
He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 
“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 
“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 
“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 
You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 
“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 
“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 
“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 
Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 
“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 
“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 
He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 
“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 
Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 
His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 
~~~
“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 
“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 
“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 
Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 
His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 
“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 
You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 
His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 
His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 
“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 
“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 
“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 
But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 
“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 
But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 
And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”
“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 
And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 
But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 
Or rather, when you get there. 
~~~
“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 
And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 
“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”
You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 
“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 
And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 
Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 
It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 
The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 
“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 
And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 
Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 
“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”
And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 
 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 
He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 
And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 
He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 
“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 
No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 
The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 
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✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.
✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy
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keferon · 2 days ago
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Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!
_____________________
“I hate it,” Orion sighs.
“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”
“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”
“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”
Orion twitches.
Part 1.
The fic under the cut⤵��
Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.
“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”
Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.
“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”
Orion rubs the bridge of his nose
“It's a massacre.”
Prowl twitches his wing.
“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”
Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.
Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.
“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”
Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.
“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”
“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”
Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.
“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”
Orion nods.
He looks oddly pensive.
“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”
Prowl frowns
“He should have stopped.”
“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”
“But...”
Orion looks at him angrily.
“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”
Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.
“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”
“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”
Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.
Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”
Prowl is silent for a moment.
Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.
“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”
What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.
In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.
Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.
But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.
He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.
“I'd get rid of the monsters.”
“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”
Prowl twitches his wings
“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”
“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”
“I believe it would.”
“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”
Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.
“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”
“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”
“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”
“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”
As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?
Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.
“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”
“Perfectly clear.”
“Good.”
-----------------
Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.
He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.
The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.
Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.
The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.
Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.
Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.
The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.
Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.
It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.
Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.
If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.
But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.
Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.
When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.
This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."
Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.
“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”
Ratchet shifts his gaze to him
“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”
Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely
“Knowing things is my job.”
Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.
“How does Orion deal with it...”
“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”
“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”
Prowl tilts his head
“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”
Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.
His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.
A willingness to act dictated by desperation.
The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.
Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.
Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.
He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.
He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.
The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.
Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“
And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.
Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.
He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.
Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.
Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.
————————————
Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.
“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”
“I did not.
“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”
“Congratulations.”
“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”
Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.
“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”
Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.
“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”
“You know how I feel about killing.”
“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”
Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.
“You killed them.”
“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”
Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.
“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”
Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.
Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.
“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”
Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.
It feels strange. Uncomfortable.
He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.
Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.
“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”
“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”
“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”
Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.
The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.
Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.
Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.
He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.
But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.
Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.
“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”
“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.
“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”
“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”
Orion falls silent.
He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.
A golem janitor hurries past them.
“I hate it,” Orion sighs.
“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”
“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”
“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”
Orion twitches.
Shockwave falls.
Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.
The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.
They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.
They say. He stood in front of the gates.
With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.
Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.
“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”
Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness
“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”
Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.
“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”
“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.
Orion looks pained
“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”
Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.
“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”
Orion continues to walk in circles
“You think so?”
“There is a good chance.”
Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.
But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.
And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.
This is all wrong. It's all--
“What happened at the trial?”
Orion sounds. Startled.
“There was no Trial.”
“What?”
Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.
“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.
He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”
An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.
"And?”
Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.
“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”
Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.
“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”
Orion nods shakily
“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....
He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”
That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...
What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.
Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him
“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”
Now that's a really reasonable question.
Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.
Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.
Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.
He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.
“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”
“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”
Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.
“What should I do....”
“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.
He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?
He doesn't know where to put himself.
Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.
He feels lost.
——————————
Orion stops cold.
“What...”
Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.
They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.
And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.
They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.
Orion looks... distraught.
Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.
“Orion Pax.”
There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.
When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.
“What...what are you doing here...?”
The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.
“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”
Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.
“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."
"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."
At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.
He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.
He just.
Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.
Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.
And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.
Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.
The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.
" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"
Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.
"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."
"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."
Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.
"This is crazy..."
Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head
"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."
Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.
"It is..."
"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."
"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."
Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly
"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."
He sighs helplessly
"I'm not even sure if that even matters."
"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."
Orion twitches
"What?"
"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"
Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.
"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."
"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."
They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.
"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."
"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.
Orion frowns
"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."
Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.
Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.
If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?
Orion's finials twitch slowly
"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."
Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.
Prowl tilts his head
"You're scared."
Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.
Discolored.
" I am."
Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.
He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."
"But..."
"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"
Prowl nods silently.
Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.
Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.
And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.
Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.
He continues to stand by the closed door.
A thought runs obsessively through his mind.
If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.
But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.
Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.
Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.
The idea comes naturally.
Then God must be wrong.
He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.
They are peace and contentment.
They are a clear and simple goal.
Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.
And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....
But Primus can't stop him, can he?
Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.
He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.
He turns around and walks away.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 8 months ago
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out of pure curiosity, how the hell does soap use mer reader as a sex toy👺
and I love reading about the mer au pls give us more
rants are fine, we accept them wholeheartedly🫶
right, purely out of curiosity ;) consider this a follow-up to Soap chasing you down and indulging his baser instincts with you.
Soap is fascinated with your hands. the strange little suction pads on your palms. the way you groom his scales, the way they feel on his skin. how do they work?
he begins to develop a healthy curiosity about how they might feel elsewhere.
Soap asks you not at all casually how thoroughly you clean the other mer. or yourself—do you skim over the more sensitive parts of your own anatomy? he's eager to know. his filthy mind cycles through image after image of teaching you how shark mer like to be touched.
or, fuck, of you showing him what makes you feel good.
you notice as you groom him how he pays such close attention. the muscles in his lower stomach twitch when you brush your hands over the front of his tail.
seeing him that way rouses your curiosity, too. maybe he's right. maybe you do need to clean him more thoroughly.
⬇ nsfw, monster dicks, merman sex under the cut ⬇
you run your hands up and down his members (two, remember), disguising your perverse interest as innocent dedication to your craft. you're just doing your job, right? you’re certainly not getting anything out of this. not at all. no thoughts in your sweet head.
still. you’re not as smart as you think you are if you believe this ends any other way than him fucking you like a fleshlight.
it takes so little effort for him to wrap his hands around your hips and maneuver you where he wants you. he brushes his thumbs over the sensitive notch at the front of your tail, the subtle slit becoming more flushed the more arousal floods your body. his eyes zero in.
handling you like the sex toy you are, he pulls you closer and nudges himself in. you squeak, feeling the stretch--but you're not worried about taking all of him. you were built to service big mer. of course you can take it <3
you're happy to let him use you and he’s starving to finally take what he wants. he moves you up and down on one of his cocks. the other rubs over that sensitive region, scraping the outside of your pussy until you’re speaking in tongues.
you’re dizzy, not only caught up in the physical sensation, but also the oxytocin-laced high of how much pleasure you’re giving him. how much he wants this from you.
he watches where your bodies connect--the way you grip him--and then the way your eyes droop with drunken pleasure.
you're so rapturously happy with how much he likes this. how valuable you are right now--it's intoxicating. and the way he praises you--not with words, but implicitly, with the way he groans and his hands tighten, the way he squeezes you bruisingly hard and spills his spend into your body.
you're fulfilling your purpose this way.
...
more mer au /more Soap / masterlist tag
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monster-disaster · 2 months ago
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For monsters would robots or mechs be considered under the umbrella? If so I'd love to see one of those
robot!2000 x human!Reader Good to know: smut, filming
A/N: I'm not sure they count as monsters, but we don't care about it here, so here it is:
-
"Are you sure it won't hurt me?"
"It'll be fine, Y/N," the director says, holding up a sleek, black remote. A tiny red light blinks at its center. "See? I can turn it off anytime. You've got nothing to worry about."
His words don’t entirely soothe the flutter of nerves tightening in your stomach, but you decide to let it slide. Instead, you take a steadying breath and let your gaze drift to the set. They've dressed it as a bedroom this time, with warm, earthy tones and fabrics that seem to glow under the studio lights. A plush comforter and layers of silky throws drape over the bed in the center. Their textures and hues are softened by the bright glow. It’s familiar and ordinary, yet there’s one aspect that pulls your gaze: the robot. Perched at the edge of the bed, it sits still and silent. Its steel-blue body catches the light in sharp reflections. Its hard lines and edges define a shape that’s more machine than man. Where eyes should be, two glassy lenses stare blankly ahead, they are more like headlights than anything else. There's no nose, no lips, just a featureless mask of metal. The craftsmanship is impressive, each seam welded with care, every surface polished to a mirror-like sheen, but despite the quality, it’s still unlike anything you’ve worked with before.
"It’s just a trial run, Y/N," the director assures you, a touch of seriousness entering his voice. He knows you are hesitating. "And remember, we can stop at any moment. You are in control."
"Yeah," you reply with a sigh. There's still a thread of doubt in your mind, but a spark of curiosity flickers to life as well. How would this even work? What would it feel like? Your imagination spirals through possibilities that feel both thrilling and unsettling.
“Think of it as a high-tech vibrator with some... extras," someone quips from the crew, breaking the tension. You let out a huff of laugh at the absurdity of it all but still feel yourself relax a little. Looking at it now, cold and mechanical, it’s actually easier to imagine it as an oversized toy than a person.
"Alright, let's begin," you finally say, shrugging the soft robe off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet. Bare and exposed, you cross the set with slow, deliberate steps.
Though you've been on sets like this many times before, it feels strangely unfamiliar now. There’s an odd hollowness to the room; you’re acutely aware of being alone in front of the cameras. Each lens is trained intently on you, capturing your every movement. Before, there was always someone by your side to share the stage with.
But now, it’s just you and… it.
Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you can’t help but glance back and forth between the crew behind the lights and the motionless hulk of metal before you. It sits there, rigid and silent. You feel its presence but can’t shake how empty it seems.
After a moment, you call out, "What should I do?" You squint toward the lights, knowing the director is there, though you can’t make him out through the brightness.
"Get to know it better," he replies smoothly, his tone both encouraging and calm. "I won’t turn it on until you say so."
"Does it have a name?" you ask, stepping closer until your leg brushes his knees. It's cold against your skin.
"Two Thousand, for short."
"Still a mouthful," you mutter, earning a snort from somewhere off-set, and you roll your eyes with a chuckle of your own.
Turning your attention back to the robot, you take a cautious step forward, positioning yourself between its legs. The metal frame looms over you, so still that it feels both fragile and imposing. You shuffle carefully, aware of every inch of space, worried that a single misstep might send it toppling.
"Okay, 2K," you murmur, almost to yourself. Standing there, bare under the watchful eyes of the cameras, you feel a strange vulnerability with something that doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.
The lights catch the robot’s exterior, highlighting its metallic shell in shifting hues of steel and blue. With a slight tremble, you reach out, fingers brushing its cold face, feeling the smoothness of its mask-like surface. It doesn’t give under your touch; no warmth, no softness. Your fingertips trace along the hard lines and rigid contours, searching for something familiar, something human, or monster, that isn't there. Each feature is crafted with an almost unsettling precision, as though whoever designed it aimed to capture a form but left out the essence. One of your hands trails down from the robot’s face to touch its shoulder, feeling the ridges and seams where each piece of the outer shell connects.
"Alright, 2K," you whisper, inching closer. Your fingers explore further down, testing how it might feel to embrace this odd, unyielding body. Its chest is solid, a sleek, polished surface that feels strangely impersonal, and yet… as your hands slide over its torso, you can sense the immense complexity beneath the exterior, the intricate network of wires and mechanisms that make it tick. A part of you wants to press your ear to its chest, to see if you can hear something, a hum, a pulse, anything that might hint at life within this shell, but you know you would find nothing.
"I'm ready," you murmur, glancing up at the cameras and bright lamps surrounding you. The weight of their gaze feels heavier now as if just remembering that you are not alone. At least, not entirely. You give a small nod toward the lights. "You can turn it on."
A moment passes, and you catch a slight flicker behind the robot's eyes as the director presses a button on the remote. The room holds its breath, the silence thickening as you watch the lifeless machine come to life.
Slowly, there’s a shift. The machine’s joints emit a faint whirring sound as it adjusts its stance, trying to seem relaxed and comfortable. The blue lights in its eyes brighten, and its head lifts a little. Though you can't be sure, it feels like its unblinking gaze is fixed on you with a weight that wasn't there a moment ago. It’s subtle, but there’s a presence now, an awareness that sends a ripple through the air.
“Hello, 2K,” you say. Your voice is softer now, almost like a whisper. You reach out again, feeling the same cold metal under your fingertips, but this time, it’s as if the machine acknowledges your touch, its head tilting slightly in response.
"It can't speak yet," the director interjects, cutting through the charged atmosphere. "It can understand what you say, but we still need some programming before it's finished."
You nod, absorbing this information. "And what should we do?" Your voice is steady but laced with uncertainty. In any other filming scenario, you could rely on the other actor to take the lead, to help you navigate the scene if you feel lost, but right now, the only companion you have is the robot who merely sits on the bed, staring at you silently.
The director clears his throat, his gaze shifting from the monitor back to you. "Just engage with it. Think of it as a scene with a living character."
You nod slowly, but when you’re sure the cameras can’t capture your expression, you can’t help but grimace. It’s definitely easier said than done. The concept of treating this cold, unfeeling machine as if it were alive feels impossible.
You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing in your veins. "Okay, 2K," you sigh again with a hint of determination in your voice. “Help me make this interesting.”
Your words seem to reach deeper than you thought they would because the next second, its, no, it doesn’t feel right anymore, his hands lift from his hard thighs, palms smoothing over your hips with a surprising gentleness.
"Oh," you gasp, taken aback by the shock and coldness of his touch.
“Told you it can understand you,” the director says with a hint of laughter dancing in his voice.
You blink, trying to process what just happened. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “Okay.”
The robot’s hands remain on your hips, steady and firm, yet the way they linger carries a strange tenderness. The cool metal against your skin becomes a focal point, heightening your senses, and making the world around you fade away just a little.
“Let’s see where this goes,” you say. “So, what now? Do you have a plan, or are we just improvising?” You mean it as a joke, but the robot reacts anyway.
The whirring sound grows louder, a mechanical hum resonating through the air as his grip on your hip tightens just enough to pull you onto his lap. Another shocked gasp escapes your lips as you feel the hard edges of his frame press against your own soft thighs. The contrast is startling yet strangely thrilling.
"We have to do something with the sound," some murmurs in the background.
Your hands instinctively find their place on his wide shoulders, fingers curling into the smooth surface of his metallic body. The way he holds you is surprisingly secure, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he’s navigating the balance between strength and caution.
“Okay, 2K,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, a playful challenge underlying your tone. “What’s your next move?”
His hand from your side slips up to your breast, gently exploring the softness of your flesh in his cold grip. The contrast of his metallic touch against your skin sends a ripple of sensation through you, hardening your nipple instantly. You hold your breath, the moment feeling both intimate and surreal as his fingertips glide over the underside, tracing the outline in careful exploration.
“Oh,” you murmur with a hint of chuckle. “You’re definitely more curious than I expected.”
You lean into him more, allowing yourself to embrace the moment. “Show me what you’ve got,” you say playfully.
Your heart races with anticipation, but his response is immediate. You feel his grip shift slightly, adjusting his hold around you so you sink more against him.
“What do you think of this?” you ask, cupping your breasts and pressing them together in a way that angles them for the cameras, ensuring they catch the moment. “Do you like it?” You try to shake off the awkwardness that comes from the robot’s silence, the lack of an audible answer hanging in the air tensely. Instead of words, 2K reaches out again. His movements are smooth and deliberate. His thumbs glide over your skin, brushing against your nipples. The coolness of his metal touch contrasts sharply with the warmth of your body.
“Wow,” you breathe out, caught off guard by how responsive he is, despite his silence. His exploration feels almost intimate as if he’s not just following instructions but genuinely interacting with you. You instinctively arch toward him, craving more of his curious touch.
The cameras continue to roll, capturing every word and every movement, but the watchful eyes are slipped to the back of your mind by now.
“Let’s move on,” the director says quietly. His voice cut through the haze of your focus. As usual, you want to follow his instruction without hesitation, but as you glance down between your bodies, you find… nothing. Your eyes widen in recognition, and confusion washes over you.
“Where- where is his dick?” you stammer, looking up at the bright lights as if they might offer some explanation for the sudden gap in your understanding, but before anyone can reply, the 2K reacts. With a smooth mechanical grace and a whirring sound, the plates beneath the sleek metal of its abdomen slide apart. His cock emerges, firm and gleaming. It juts out between your bodies, stealing your breath away for several seconds.
"This guy is full of surprises, isn't it?" You ask, almost laughing.
The director hums with a chuckle. "I believe you know what you have to do from now on."
A few silent seconds stretch out before you finally speak up again. “But how does it work? Does he need to consent? I mean-"
“Y/N, it’s a robot... he’s really just a giant vibrator."
“Yeah, but-" The longer you look at him, the more difficult it becomes to see him as just a hunk of metal, especially when his smooth, mechanical hands start to caress your bare skin. He draws delicate circles on your sides, the touch sending shivers up your spine, and gently pulls at your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to elicit a gasp from your lips. Each calculated movement blurs the lines between machine and human, igniting a flicker of warmth within you that makes it impossible to ignore the growing excitement.
"I think we can call it consent," somebody says in the background with a touch of surprise in his voice when the robot grips your hips firmly, lifting you slightly off his lap just enough to glide his cock across your damp folds. The cold touch on your heated center sends a ripple over your spine and your hands tighten on his shoulders with anticipation. You feel weightless in his strong grasp as he effortlessly supports your body, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to ease you down onto his length. Each inch of him stretches you, testing your limits, and you can’t help but feel grateful for the preparation you did before filming. He slips inside you with surprising ease, filling you completely until every inch of his erection is enveloped within you. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you wiggle against him, seeking friction and fueled by a surge of curiosity. The coolness of his metallic form contrasts sharply with the warmth radiating from your center, creating a tantalizing sensation that dances between discomfort and pleasure.
"I want a close-up," the director says to someone.
As you adjust to the fullness, your body instinctively reacts, contracting around him, eager for more. With each subtle shift of your hips, your breath hitches in your throat. The robot responds to your movements, adapting to your rhythm with uncanny precision. His hands remain firmly on your hips, guiding you gently as you rock against him, drawing out moans that echo in the quiet room.
You can sense the curiosity of those watching, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. It's new to them too.
You lean back slightly, arching your back for the camera as 2K's shaft glides in and out of you. Each thrust pushes you higher, and you can feel the pulse of desire building within you, throbbing and urging for more. You feel every subtle shift, every thrust, as he adapts to your movements. His body responds seamlessly to your desires. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you so completely, sends waves of pleasure radiating through your entire being. You feel like a raw nerve, perched on his lap with his arms around you, holding you and guiding you up and down on his cock. You rock your hips against him, half-delirious, seeking that perfect angle that sends your pleasure soaring. You feel him respond once again, adjusting his hold around you as his movements become more urgent, more insistent. He matches your rhythm, driving deeper into your bouncing heat.
In the back of your mind, you are still aware of the cameras filming you, and you try to do what you usually do for the right angles and records, but every fiber within you urges you to be selfish and chase your pleasure.
You bite your lip, stifling a moan as you feel the tension coiling tightly in your abdomen. Your breaths come in quick, shallow gasps, mingling with the soft, whirring sounds of the robot. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before, a blend of raw human desire and robotic precision for your pleasure.
You grip his shoulders tighter. Your nails scratch over the smooth, metal surface. “I’m close,” you croak out. Urgency laces your voice, but before you can finish the sentence, something shifts. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips as you jolt on his length. The moment the robot's cock begins to vibrate, the world around you blurs, and all thought evaporates in your foggy mind.
The vibrations travel through you like a current, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your core. Each pulse ignites your senses, overwhelming you in the best possible way. Instinctively, you arch your back more, pressing down on him harder. The metal surface of his erection, once cool, now feels alive against your heated walls. The rhythmic buzz amplifies every movement, and with each thrust, you swear you can feel the vibration in your pussy on the tip of your fingers too.
You can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips in a maddening rhythm. It feels as if the entire world has narrowed down to this one electrifying moment. Your breaths come faster, more desperate, each gasp mingling with the mechanical hum of the robot.
You are teetering on the edge, and then, with one final surge of vibrations and powerful thrusts, you feel it. Your body trembles as the pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and blissfully adrift in your climax.
As your mind clears enough for you to lift your head from the robot’s shoulder, you gaze up at the director, noticing that the lights have dimmed slightly, casting a softer glow over the room. “How was it?” you ask breathlessly, still suspended in the remains of your incredible release. You can feel your pussy still fluttering around his rigid cock, instinctively trying to milk something more, craving that sweet sensation once again.
The man watching from his seat smirks with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “I think it will work.”
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months ago
Text
Winter Break | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
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Sam never considered himself a parent in any capacity. Sure he worked at a school but all that meant was that his clientele were snot-nosed brats, who are the perfect consumers for his on-campus shop. It was a great way to make money and how could he ever be bored when he could be let in on the dramatic inner workings of the student body. Usually he was generally indifferent with the mages he sold to but that was when they were just the selfish mean-spirited boys he dealt with.
“Oh thank you Mister Sam!”
It wasn’t a breath of fresh air to actually have one of the students respect him. It was just weird. Of course, his shadows clearly thought otherwise whispering excitedly about their misadventures to become a new student. It was against his will that he’d heard that they hailed from another world and were sharing the place of a student with a little monster. Now he couldn’t deny it was interesting that they’d united the students without magic. What kind of average human were they to actually force these wild kids to obey without collaring them?
“Do you think (Y/n) will like this? They have been saying how hard it is navigating Ramshackle at night.”
“Hmph do what you want.They should be happy we’re getting them anything.”
“We?”
“Yeah I mean I’m hear anyways I might as well.”
Perhaps it was these first years, that were just opening their horizons to someone new. A lesson he’d seen hundreds of arrogant seniors learn on their internships. That there were plenty of people not proficient in magic and that were prone to be peaceful. Heck, he wondered if they’d act the same with those preppy RSA kids.
“Evening Sam, I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Help you? What a surprise! Usually you’re the one coming to me to offer your help, Azul.”
“Haha very funny. Now what do you think is a good gift for someone you want to like you?”
Nevermind. All of them were losing their minds and it was all over the one they called the prefect. By the time he’d begun to accept that this was a widespread phenomenon he found himself beginning to change as well.
“Hey I just got a shipment of that tuna, Grim likes.”
“Thanks Sam but how did you know he preferred this kind? He always gets so pouty when I guess.”
The Shadows.”A…little bird told me.”
That fact kept him up at night. Specifically because he was wondering why it became a routine for the shadows to return with a full-on report on the prefect’s day before they helped him reload stock. Or why it irked him so much more to know that Crowley had time in the day to spend hours browsing his shop's shelves while the prefect finished a spending sheet the headmaster should be typing. 
Guess that’s why he was so curious about those anticipated weeks.
“Where are you going for the Winter Break?"
You stopped in the middle of the motion of putting the box on it’s shelf. Staring blankly through the opening of the shelf as if you’d find the answer there. Mentally searching you found there was no set answer for this; barely you could recall the time you spent in Epel’s hometown but other than that no one had invited you anywhere. Not yet at least. 
“Yeah hench-(Y/n) where we goin’?” 
Grim’s question reminded you that Sam was waiting. Continuing to put the box in it’s place you stepped away back to the unpacked boxes. 
“I don’t know…I just thought we’d stay here with the faeries like Crowley would want.”
Sam scoffed, “You shouldn’t be worrying about that bird. Is there somewhere you want to go?”
You smiled to yourself, shaking your head; well-aware he was hidden behind a fully stocked shelf. With a nearby box-cutter you opened the box beckoning an annoyed Grim to take it’s contents and put them where they should be. 
“What about you, Sam? Anywhere you want to go?”
The famous redirect. Sam was prepared. While he wasn’t as easy to derail as his older coworkers or as confrontational about it when they did notice he wouldn’t be deterred so easily. 
“Of course once the shop is closed I’m headed back home.”
“Oh where’s that?”
“Porto’bliss, its not the fanciest place but it has it’s moments. If you’d like I wouldn’t mind you coming with.”
The open-ended invitation made your heart swell. A break sounded great but a break without Crowley and his chores sounded lovely. Even better instead of slowly coming to miss your friends on an empty campus you could discover a new place with someone who had your best interests in mind. You’d have to think about it though, wouldn’t want to be hasty in case something really important needed to be done on campus.
“What do you think, Grim?” Sam asked opening a familiar pack of sweets that had the monster beaming.
“That sounds like a great idea! (Y/n) let’s go!”
Peeking from behind your shelf to see Grim dig into the opened bag, Sam mischeviously shrugs when you send him a look.
“I’ll have to think about it.”
_____________________________________________________________
Mozus Trein set a book down with more force then he needed to. His grey eyes daring a glance at the happy facial expression of the prefect lightly petting Lucius. He looks away before you can see where the cat is glaring back at-just as disturbed as his owner. Looking past the professor it’s Grim sleeping on the bookshelf you’d organized minutes ago. Figuring it’s better then him whining about your helping Trein you continue on talking.
“Yeah while I was helping stock with him, he offered we go to Porto’bliss. Have you ever been?”
The professor returned his gaze back to the essay he was grading, lightly coughing into his gloved hand a nice way to hide his grimace.
“Yes my wife and I traveled there for an anniversary. It has a very rustic feel,” he listened to you hum. Quickly adding on,” but we never went back. Mostly on the account that a lot of the…facilities are outdated.”
He fought the triumphant twitch on his small smile practically hearing the disgruntled “Oh” coming from you. The professor felt a slight twinge of guilt exacerbating his experience there. In truth it was only one establishment like that but until you’d go to prove him wrong he’d stand by his experience. 
“But if you’d like a modern, family-filled environment my daughters are joining me at our estate in the Shaftlands. If you’d like to come.”
He adored the unfiltered joy on your face at his offer before it shriveled with that wonderfully loathsome politeness lowering your expectations. “I appreciate that but I wouldn’t want to get in the way. This is the only time your daughters get to see you after all.”
The warm chuckle from the older man had you looking up,” Oh no they’d be overjoyed if you came. They’d adore having someone younger than I around.”
That wast the most polite way he’d thought of masking the real reason they wouldn’t mind. He didn’t dare look at the growing pile of letters from his daughters. Rarely were they inclined to respond to his letters, hoping he’d switch to a more modern medium. But the second his writings started to describe an overworked, otherworldly prefect they began responding in a heartbeat. 
Do they have mother? Have they spoken of one? 
Are you bringing them home? Please say you will! We’d spoil them to bits!
They won’t have to go back will they? A normal school is probably safer then that school!
PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPAPA!
PLEASE Papa let’s give (Y/n) a real home!
He was sure he raised his girls right. He really did. He also taught them to be women unafraid of others and determined in every aspect of their life. It begged the question if that determination translated to abducting relocating the prefect in the shoddy abandoned dorm. This was nicer. A peaceful invitation that you could unfortunately decline accept and slowly integrate yourself into the Trein household. 
If he was successful, he’s certain Crewel and now Sam would sneer in his direction. The former would whine argue that his actions would be the opposite of caring for the prefect but he’d disagree. This was caring. Embracing them into a family that not only would be nurturing but would give a support system for their inevitable graduation from Night Raven College. For as much as he…mildly enjoyed teaching such unruly youth a magicless student wouldn’t have many business prospects. Not counting the leering royals you seem to attract. What he was offering was a fall-back, security for you and your cat-like companion. Even Crewel would have to relent this would be much better.
“What do you think Lucius? You okay if we come with?”
“Mrrow.” The purr and fluffy weight leaning into your hand told you exactly what he thought.
Once again you had a lot to think about it. 
“Take your time (Y/n), me and Lucius will be here when the other students leave so you won’t miss saying goodbye to your friends.”
______________________________________________________________
“You’ll be coming with me to the Queendom of Roses of course.”
“What?”
Crewel sighed waiting for the troublesome mutts to leave with the chattery monster turning to you once again.
“I heard you talking about what you’d all be doing during the break. I'm reminding you that I’ll be taking you home…with me.”
Crewel wasn’t embarrassed at all. In face he prided himself on his initiative, earlier in the year he would have broken mirrors with his own bashfullness. Something about expressing any affection to someone who could communicate in the same language as him and return their own form of praise without a wagging tail. It was like highschool all over again. But he was better now, perfect material to guide an overly mature child that needs his guidance. He doesn’t know if he was ready for the ‘f-word’ but if you happened to slip up and call him that after receiving a beautifully wrapped gift with a color scheme that matches the decor. He was just the best wasn’t he.
“Actually Professor Crewel, I’m going to have to decide I’ve gotten a lot of offers and I think it’d be really mean if I didn’t–”
You were still talking but Crewel wasn’t listening. Who in all of Twisted Wonderland would have the gall to overstep the offer only he was worthy enough to give. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes, knowing there quite a few dirty mutts who’d jump at the chance to invite his pure, far-too trusting pup into their dumpheaps…or restricting castles he wasn’t ruling out any of that hungry pack. Still he figured he’d ask.
“Who offered?”
You were cowering a little bit; he must’ve come off incredibly harsh. His bad. 
“Um Sam and Trein—”
“Alright get to lunch and eat this time. I’ll ask your guardpups if you have. If you don't, I'm giving you detention.”
He put his hands on the prefect’s shoulders turning them around to leave the empty classroom.
“But what about your offer? Should we talk about–?”
He pat their head and gave one last shove.
“We’ll decide for you pup. Eat your lunch have a good rest of your day. Pack your bags too I have a feeling a decision will be made by the end of the day.”
He shut the door on your face and you rushed to catch the lunch line.
Guess you wouldn’t have to think at all. Oh well makes things easier for you.
__________________________________________________________
If tension was gasoline Crowley’s office would’ve exploded by now. It just so happened his office was the place Crewel decided to confront his coworkers; the only place private enough to discuss where exactly their prefect was going for this break.
“I asked them first. So they’ll be coming with me.” Trein scowled, “Get your feet off the table and I don’t know if where you’re taking them is family friendly environment.”
Sam joylessly laughed,”Family-friendly? Do you call trying to replace your third child with (Y/n) as a family-friendly environment? Yeah Besides I don’t think they they’ll want to spend anything over a day with people old enough to need a diaper change.”
Lucius swatted a clawful paw into Sam’s exposed ankles, scampering quicker than the chasing  shadows that morphed into talons. Jumping up high and near the window hissing pridefully at the shadows forced to slink nearby. 
His cat’s actions lessened the blow of his words but it didn’t denote what was said. Trein knew that was far from accurate but he knew arguing wouldn’t help. Not with those who needed any kind of evidence for their case but Sam wasn’t who he was most worried about.
“On that note, being with someone so close to their age without any adult supervision would be unwise. Seniority aside I believe I am the best candidate. Not to mention I’d be more than willing to invite their friends a couple towns over.”
Sam’s face was twisted in a snarl, an expression Trein would have used if he couldn’t just glare. 
“You forget I am an adult. I don’t need to be geriatric nanny to know what the kid needs.”
“And I am not aiming to replace them at all. I just know it’d be healthier for them not to be alone in a time like this.”
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
A tense silence took over the room. Trein broke it with the authority who usually held over his fellow teachers,”Then we’ll draw lots.”
Sam and Crewel nodded in agreement, demanding to inspect the elder’s methods–promising there's no chance of cheating.
“Wait!” Vargas had been watching the three of them hurl insults waiting for a good time to remind them he wanted to be counted in the running. 
“What about me? I don’t mind taking them with me!”
Trein didn’t look up from the sticks they chosen and Sam just whistled putting his arms behind his head. Leaving it to Crewel to tell Vargas to ‘quiet down’.
“No one in their right mind is letting you take that pup and force them into some weird training regimen the whole break!”
“But I wasn’t going to–”
Crewel cut him off holding his teaching crop threateningly at the P.E teacher, who dejectedly settled back into his chair. Watching mopily as the three teachers drew lots. Sam pulled first, then Crewel, and finally Trein opened his hand. After comparing the sizes of each of the sticks, the winner was decided. 
The door suddenly burst open in a flur of black feathers and the smell of the cafeteria’s sloppy joe–it was Crowley.
“Halt for I have harrowing news about the prefect!”
They all turned to the headmaster they hardly respected and all looked eagerly for the news. Were they hurt? In another overblot? Abducted by some delusional pup again? They all hurried to the headmaster, eagerly awaiting the crow’s information.
“They-” Sam held the rim of his hat in nervousness.
“--in fact–” Trein had outgrown immature nervous habits, still he allowed his finger to tap impatiently.
“are–” Crewel had enough, easily grabbing Crowley’s collar and shaking him accordingly,”Just say it. CLEARLY.”
The snarl from his already snippy employee made the headmaster gulp. Putting his hands up in defense he stopped dragging it out.
“I’ve already planned to take (Y/n) with me. I wanted them to come on vacation with me.”
Everyone in the room curled their lips in disgust, uncaring that they made the headmaster curl into himself and begin crying into his hands. Sam when looked at by the pouting crow he shrugged, “I’d believe you more if you made up something about forcing them to work off some debt you had.”
Trein huffed,”or forcing them to be your unpaid secretary, full-time.”
Crowley struck a dramatic pose, tears conveniently dried,”But aren’t I so kind? To invite them into my nest and take them under my wings.”
Crewel opened his mouth, planning to insult him once again only to be interrupted by the doors opening once again. Seeing the sweaty and out of breath student of Heartslabyul usually right beside their the prefect.
“Pup? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping (Y/n) pack?”
“That’s what I have to talk to you about–” the student with the spade on his cheek was interrupted by a cacophonous sound of thunder rumbling. A quick glance outside pointed to the growing green storm clouds hovering over Ramshackle–the calling card of an unhappy fae.
“Spade, what’s happened?”
Trein’s question had everyone eagerly waiting for the answer from the anxious looking student.
“That cat-guy from RSA took them!”
“What cat-guy?” 
“...Could you mean Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker?”
Deuce snapped his fingers at the name, “Yeah that guy! He took them, their bags, and told everyone they were taking them for the Winter break!”
Deuce could feel a cold sweat trickle from his forehead as the glares and scowls filled the room with a despairful mood. Not that he wasn’t feeling the same but they had much bigger problems than the teachers being on a warpath.
Vargas stood, taking it on himself to get his coworkers to shape up. Not because he was worried their real personalities were coming out but because he knew when it came to tracking time was of the essence. And maybe the prefect would be willing to just choose him if he's the first to save them!
“Alright everyone let’s begin our search at our rival academy. I’m sure they’ll love to know one of their students has kidnapped one of ours.”
Crowley cackled gleefully,”I’d never let them live it down.”
Deuce was pumped about to voice his joy before looking at the storm clouds rumbling closer.
“I’m all for it but maybe we should deal with…that first.” Pointing at the rapidly growing puff of green clouds.
Turns out they’d have a lot to think about before anyone can take you for the break.
Who knew?
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lustlovehart · 9 days ago
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Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.
Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.
Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.
Sickness Kills, Sickness no more
Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞
CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)
Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige
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Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?
Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.
Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.
Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.
It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.
Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.
When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.
Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.
If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.
Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.
When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.
Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.
Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.
When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.
The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.
Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.
The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.
When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.
This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.
Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…
Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.
Right… Cold blooded…
Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.
When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.
Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.
“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.
“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.
A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.
All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.
“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.
Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet—!
And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?
He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—
“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”
Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.
“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.
But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.
Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.
Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’
Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.
Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.
Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.
“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.
Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.
“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”
In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.
Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.
And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.
Sages Quarter
- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.
“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.
You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.
For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.
“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.
“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.
“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.
- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.
… How is he supposed to help you?!?
He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!
“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.
“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.
He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.
- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.
“Fellow…? What are you…?”
“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.
With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.
“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”
A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?
You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?
The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.
- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.
It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.
When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.
But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.
Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.
“Neige…—”
“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.
The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!
“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.
… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.
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A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)
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rose24207 · 2 months ago
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Roseee’s Masterlist
Roseee‘s Masterlist pt.2 prompts
Genre
Mafia - 🖤
Angst - 💔
Fluff - 💗
Suggestive - ❤️‍🔥
Dark - 🩶
Humor - 💛
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Squid game
The Salesman:
• How my dad does it 💔💗
-> Ji-Woo imitates her father’s Ddakji game at school, offering chocolate for wins and punches for losses, believing it’s what he would do, forcing her parents to reevaluate the lessons she’s learning from him.
• Just a Salesman 💔🩶
-> Your perfect world shatters when a furious stranger bursts into your home, accusing your loving, devoted husband of being a monster responsible for countless deaths.
-> pt.2
Player 333 / Myung-gi:
• The Triangle’s Mercy 💔🩶
-> You defy the rules of life and death, sparing Player 333 on the field and pulling your gun on another player in the dormitory, leaving him questioning why a guard would protect him.
Spiderverse
Miles Morales!42:
• I got this 💗
-> Miles never lets anyone touch his hair except his mom, but when she’s not around, he just might make an exception.
• Web of feelings 💗💛{💔}
-> When Spider-Girl is dosed with a love potion and falls for her enemy, the Prowler, he must fight to undo the chaos while questioning if this fake love could ever become real.
• Ma Meilleure Ennemie 💔💗
-> Two enemies, bound by hatred and an undeniable connection, navigate a love-hate relationship where each becomes the other's greatest blessing—and worst curse.
Harry Potter
Fred Weasley:
• that’s rich 💔{💗}
-> After a painful breakup, Fred finds you in the depths of your heartache and confesses his regret, leading to an emotional confrontation that leaves you both questioning whether love and healing are still possible between you.
• new year, new chapter 💗
-> Fred’s New Year transforms into a celebration of love, family, and new beginnings as he learns he’s about to become a father.
• spinning into love 💗
-> During a game of Spin the Bottle, Fred’s jealousy over a harmless kiss pushes him to confess his long-hidden feelings for his best friend, leading to a heartfelt and love-filled moment.
• a second chance at forever 💔💗
-> After surviving the explosion that everyone believed had killed him during the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred reunites with you, who, overwhelmed with relief and love, proposes to him on the spot.
• Get a room💗
-> A disciplined Slytherin is tasked with tutoring the Weasley twins, but between Fred’s chaotic charm, George’s relentless teasing, and their combined knack for trouble, resisting their antics—and Fred’s growing affection—proves impossible.
• I‘m okay 💔💗
-> During the chaotic Battle of the Seven Potters, Fred is consumed with worry when his girlfriend is the last to arrive at the Burrow, battered but alive, prompting him to stay by her side all night, vowing never to let her face such danger alone again.
• Potions and Obsessions 🩶
-> in which Fred‘s crush gets caught in the middle of a love potion and instead of giving her the antidote, Fred is keeping her all to himself.
George Weasley:
• What they’re like 💔💗
-> George confronts his friends after overhearing hurtful comments about his Slytherin girlfriend, defending her fiercely and making it clear that their behavior won’t be tolerated.
• Lucky git💔
-> George hides his heartbreak as he gives Y/N advice on pursuing Fred, knowing he’ll never be the one she chooses.
• Forever and always 💔💗
-> On their wedding day, George comforts his bride after finding her placing flowers on her parents' grave, reminding her that their love and future together will always honor the ones she’s lost.
• Love beyond house colors💔💗
-> After a secret relationship strained by house rivalry, George proves his love for his Slytherin girlfriend by standing by her side after a Quidditch injury and publicly declaring their relationship.
• Home for Christmas 💗
-> George invites his nervous girlfriend to the Burrow for Christmas, reassuring her with his warmth and humor, and she quickly realizes she’s already part of the Weasley family’s chaotic love.
• Long day, warm night 💗
-> After a grueling day as an Auror, you come home to George, who lifts your spirits with a cozy dinner, heartfelt affection, and the perfect night of love and laughter.
• a dance too late 💗
-> George hesitates too long to ask his crush to the Yule Ball, only to discover she's going with Harry as friends, but amidst the festivities, he finds the courage to confess his feelings, leading to a magical evening spent together.
Formula 1
Lando Norris:
- The Norris Family - Mafia - 🖤
• When mom looses her cool 💔💗
-> You finally snap after you catch your kids lying about a party and afterwards teach them a lesson about responsibility.
• Party pact 💗{💔}
-> Amelia and Jacob, the spirited teenage children of a strict but loving Lando, attend a party where their bond is tested as Jacob protects his bold sister while ensuring they stay out of trouble and honor their father's trust.
• Unseen tears 💔{💗}
-> A mother struggles with emotional isolation and her distant family until her husband finally steps in to confront their children and begin mending their fractured bonds.
• Amelies Innocence 💔 {💗}
-> Lando’s kind and patient wife loses it when she finds her six-year-old daughter with a gun in her hand.
• Family Business 💗
-> An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.
• Shadows and Sunlight💗
-> In the dangerous world of Lando Norris, a ruthless mafia boss, his kind-hearted wife and their contrasting children create a family full of warmth, love, and the delicate balance between light and dark.
• The balance of Us💗{💔}
-> As Lando navigates his dangerous world, his fiercely curious daughter and gentle son test the delicate balance of their family, while his kindhearted wife remains his unwavering anchor in a life of chaos.
• A lesson in Strength and Kindness💗
-> When Jacob stands up for a bullied classmate and gets in trouble, Lando and Y/N work together to ensure their son learns the value of both strength and kindness, teaching him that standing up for others can be just as important as following the rules.
• Switching Sides 💗
-> In a day filled with business and adventure, Lando and Y/N teach their children the balance of strength and kindness, reminding them that family is their true source of power and purpose.
- Imagines -
• More than enough 💔💗
-> Lando, living a modest life, discovers that his girlfriend is a secret billionaire CEO and battles his feelings until she reassures him that he is her home and true happiness.
-> P2
• Right here 💗
-> Lando feels overlooked as you get carried away with friends at the club, but after expressing that he misses you, the two of you reconnect and focus on each other for the rest of the night.
• Tested 🖤💗💔
-> Lando, raised to see vulnerability as weakness, pushes through the flu to maintain his mafia image, but ultimately allows you to care for him when his facade cracks.
• Stress Shopping 🖤💔💗
-> After a heated argument, you storm off on a stress-shopping spree with Lando's card, prompting a call from his bank, but the fight ends in heartfelt apologies and a reminder of his love for you.
• No, you’re not 💔
-> You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.
• What she is to me🖤💔
-> In the ruthless world of power and betrayal, Lando’s desperate attempts to shield you from the darkness of his empire begin to unravel when a mysterious woman threatens to destroy the fragile trust between you both.
• why didn’t you tell me? 🖤💔💗
-> Lando discovers you’re hiding your illness to avoid worrying him, leading him to care for you tenderly through the night, reaffirming how deeply you mean to him.
• Prom dress 💔💗
-> You sit with Lando after a disappointing prom night, as he reassures you that you don't need perfection to be valued and offers comfort, reminding you that you're not alone.
• Mr. Overthinking 💗
-> Lando navigates the overwhelming mix of excitement and fear about becoming a dad, constantly panicking but finding reassurance in your steady support.
• Nothings new 💔💗
-> Lando, overwhelmed by relentless bullying and emotional strain, reaches a breaking point, leading to a heartbreaking breakdown where he finally allows himself to cry and lean on you for comfort.
• mistletoe and mayhem 💗💛
-> Lando comes home to find you tipsy on Christmas Eve, takes care of your chaotic but endearing antics, and tucks you in with a smile.
• Winter depression 💔💗
-> Lando helps his girlfriend navigate the numbness of her winter depression with patience, love, and small acts of care, reminding her she’s never alone even in her darkest moments.
• In sickness and in secrets 🖤💔💗
-> When you break up with Lando to protect him from your illness, he uncovers the truth, confronts you, and promises to stay by your side, ensuring you receive the best care and his unwavering love.
• though the scope 🖤💔💗
-> Lando, unaware that his wife is the mysterious sniper who has been secretly protecting him, becomes obsessed with uncovering their identity while she struggles to keep her double life hidden to ensure his safety.
->P2
• sounds fun 💗
-> Lando, the shy and self-doubting "nerd" at school, slowly gains confidence as he bonds with you over shared interests, despite his moments of insecurity.
• bribary🖤💗💛
-> Lando Norris, a notorious mafia figure, struggles to get along with his girlfriend's cat, Milo, who constantly hisses and scratches at him, until Lando decides to win him over with a little bribery, resulting in an unexpected truce.
• Christmas shopping 💗
-> Lando carefully shops for thoughtful Christmas gifts for his girlfriend in Monaco, gracefully handling paparazzi attention as he envisions her joy on Christmas morning.
• racing hearts 💔💗
-> Lando panics over the fear of losing his F1 career if he marries his princess girlfriend, says hurtful things, loses her, and later learns from her father that his fears were unfounded, prompting him to win her back and reconcile.
• the weigh of words 💔💗
-> After a heated argument fueled by his frustrations on and off the track, Lando's harsh words pushes you away, forcing him to confront his guilt and fight to mend your relationship through heartfelt apologies and unwavering effort.
• unspoken doubts 💔💗
-> After a misunderstanding fueled by media rumors about Lando’s connection with Magui, you start to doubt their relationship, pulling away from him. But Lando’s commitment to you is unwavering, and he fights to clear the air, proving that his love for you is real and strong.
• stream interrupted ❤️‍🔥💗
-> While Lando is streaming, his focus shifts completely when he sees you dressed in a revealing Halloween outfit, leading to a steamy distraction that leaves both of you cutting the stream for a more private celebration.
• the way to her heart 🖤💗
-> Lando tries to impress you with his lavish lifestyle, but when he puts in the real effort to show you his true self—cooking dinner and building a blanket fort for a cozy night in—he finally wins your heart in a way money never could.
• native language 💗
-> Lando’s playful attempts at learning his partner’s native language bring them closer together, with each small phrase exchanged deepening their connection without the need for grand gestures or complicated words.
• background cuddles 💗
-> While Max Fewtrell tries to focus on his stream, chat becomes obsessed with Lando and you cuddling in the background, turning his gaming session into a hilariously chaotic third-wheel adventure.
• make them pay🖤💔💗
-> When your favorite café is shattered by violence and your friend needs help, you turns to your mafia husband, Lando Norris, to bring justice and restore peace to those you hold dear.
• an unlikely pair 💗
-> Lando has always had a crush on you , but you never really noticed him. When a teacher forces you to study together, you begin to get closer, but doubts arise when your ex teases Lando, making him feel like he’s just a tool for you to pass exams.
• if he gets too close…🖤💔💗
-> Lando breaks up with you to keep you safe from his dangerous world, but when you unknowingly agree to a date with one of his enemies, his protective instincts override his restraint, forcing him to confront both his feelings and the secrets he’s kept from you.
• soft for you 🖤💔💗
-> Lando Norris, a dangerous mafia leader, shows nothing but love and gentleness to his darling, but when she hears whispers of his darker side, he reassures her before taking ruthless action against the man who planted doubt in her mind.
• second chances 💔💗
-> After overhearing his son reveal how hard his mother works to make ends meet, Lando confronts his ex about her struggles and offers them both the stability and love they deserve
• Nerd in love 💗
-> A kind-hearted cheerleader befriends the school’s shy, bullied nerd, standing up for him and forming a heartfelt bond that defies expectations and whispers.
• Off-camera temptations 💗❤️‍🔥💛
-> Lando gets caught off guard when you flash him off-camera during a TikTok prank, but his playful confusion quickly turns into suggestive teasing
• you matter more 🖤💔💗
-> After a misunderstanding involving an unwanted kiss, Lando proves his loyalty to the you by confronting you, clearing up the truth, and eliminating any threat to their relationship
• more than enough 🖤💔💗
-> After overhearing gossip that shakes your confidence in your relationship, you begin to pull away from Lando, only for him to confront your fears head-on and prove his unwavering love and commitment.
• Dinner with a little fame 💗💛
-> Lando meets your family at a chaotic dinner where your parents are clueless about his fame, but your teenage brother’s over-the-top reaction exposes his celebrity status, leading to hilarious misunderstandings and eventual acceptance.
• Tangled hearts 💔💗
-> After a one-night affair leads to an unexpected pregnancy, Lando falls for you, but when you overhear gossip about him dating someone else, you pull away, only for him to reveal he was planning to ask you on a date all along.
• By my side 🖤💔💗
-> Mafia boss Lando Norris fights to prove his love to his maid after cruel gossip causes her to doubt their relationship, ultimately winning her trust and heart.
• Until someone shinier comes along 🖤💔💗
-> Y/N wants to break up with Lando after a cruel guest claims he’ll leave her for someone better. Learning the truth, Lando confronts the guest and reassures Y/N of his unwavering love.
• Yours to protect 🖤💔💗
-> After your toxic ex shakes your confidence, Lando reassures you of his love—but secretly plans to ensure your ex never hurts you again.
• Fake or real? 💗💛
-> A fake proposal for free dessert turns real when Lando confesses his love, changing their prank into something genuine.
• Rivals or lovers? 💔💗
-> Lando and his teammate, initially fierce rivals, slowly begin to realize their unspoken attraction for each other, transforming from enemies to lovers as they confront their fears and vulnerabilities.
• Not now. Not ever 🖤💔💗
-> Lando, consumed by anger during a fight, unknowingly frightens you, causing you to flinch and pull away, leaving him devastated by the realization that he made you fear him and determined to earn back your trust.
• Little secret 🖤💔💗
-> Lando Norris, a mafia boss, falls for a woman hiding her past with an abusive ex and a child she’s trying to protect.
• Brothers bestfriend 💔💗
-> Lando and Carlos younger sister secretly fall in love, risking their relationship with Carlos when the truth comes out.
• Hidden in plain sight 💗💛
-> Lando secretly dates Zak Brown’s daughter, but everyone already knows.
• You belong to me 🖤🩶💗
-> Lando becomes possessive and jealous when he finds you dancing with one of his men at his club, and demands your attention for himself.
• He‘s mine 🖤💔💗
-> Lando tracks you down after two years and discovers your son, vowing to protect you both and rebuild your trust.
• That‘s my girl 🖤💗
-> The girlfriends of illegal street racers compete in a high-stakes race, with you driving Lando’s car to victory and surprising everyone, including Lando, with your skills.
• Prove it 🖤💔💗
-> In a tense and emotional confrontation, you try to leave Lando out of fear, but he proves his unwavering love and devotion, vowing to change and earn your trust.
• Tiny💗
-> Lando overcomes his fear of holding his tiny newborn daughter, discovering an overwhelming love and sense of responsibility that changes him forever.
• Fine line💔💗
-> After a painful breakup with Oscar, you find unexpected love and healing with his teammate Lando, navigating the complexities of loyalty, heartbreak, and new beginnings.
• Hidden past🖤💔💗
-> Lando discovers his girlfriend’s secret criminal past, born from her desperation to protect her family, and vows to stand by her side despite her insistence on handling it alone.
• Misunderstanding 🖤💔💗
-> A misunderstanding over cryptic texts from Lando’s sister leads to heartbreak and confrontation, but ultimately strengthens the trust and love between him and his girlfriend.
• Copacabana 💗💛
-> A stunning performance on Let’s Dance sees you and Lando sharing an undeniable chemistry as you dance to Copacabana, captivating the audience with your graceful moves, bold connection, and breathtaking energy, leaving everyone in awe of your magical partnership.
• bound by blood and fate🖤💔💗
-> After a devastating breakup, Lando is pulled back into your life when an accident reveals not only your fragile state but also the existence of the baby he never knew you carried, forcing him to confront his love for you and his vow to protect his growing family
• Right time🖤💔💗
-> When an intruder threatens your life, Lando's protective instincts take over as he saves you and vows to eliminate any danger, all while you help him find solace in the aftermath.
• Is there someone else?🖤💔💗
-> When Lando grows distant and secretive, leading you to suspect infidelity, you uncover his dangerous efforts to protect you from a rival threatening his place in the criminal underworld.
• shattered trust💔{💗}
-> Lando dumps you for another woman, but soon regrets it and tries to win you back.
• Fourth time‘s the Charm💗💛
-> In which Lando tries to confess to you but gets interrupted every single time.
• The Rookie’s Mistake🖤🩶💗
-> In which a Rookie makes a mistake by unknowingly flirting with someone that belongs to Lando.
• Shadows🖤💔💗
-> Lando’s ruthless mafia life is shaken when his vulnerability, Y/N, becomes a target, forcing him to protect her at all costs.
• The heirs weakness 🖤💗
-> there is only one person who can crack Lando's shell infront of his men.
• Simp sessions and sliding into DM‘s💗💛
-> Y/N openly simps for Lando Norris during a Beta Squad video, and he surprises her by sliding into her DMs.
-> P2
• Interrupted Stream 💗💛
-> Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.
• Safe Place 💗💛
-> feeling exhausted, Lando calls his girlfriend for a night to allow himself to relax.
• Worth it? 💔
-> after a regretful night, Lando realises how much he really messed up and if it was even worth it?
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Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming
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these-lovely-monsters · 4 months ago
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Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 3
[NSFW | 18+]
Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader
Content: tentacles, eldritch monster
A/N: Here is part 3 at last! It started to get a bit long so I decided to break it up into 2 parts. This one is just fluff (no smut), but don't worry, I am posting part 4 with more tentacle shenanigans at the same time so you won't have to wait!
Since it fits, I'm also tagging this for #10 Tentacles from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆
The next morning you wake to the bright sunlight streaming through the open window of your bedroom. Blinking open groggy eyes, you stretch your sore muscles with a groan. You smile to yourself at the memories from last night as you admire the bright red circular marks that cover your skin. You realize then that the tentacle monster is no longer holding your hand.
Leaning over the side of your bed, you peer under it but there’s nothing there. You sigh in disappointment and get up to grab some clothes from your closet. Just as you finish pulling them on, a soft rustling sound comes from behind you and you turn in excitement.
To your delight, you see a few tentacles peeking out from under your bed, gently feeling around on the sheets as if looking for you.
“You came back!” You exclaim as you rush over to it.
“Of course, my sweet. I will never leave you,” its deep, cosmic voice echoes in your head. Before you have a chance to wonder at its statement, it continues, “Did you rest well?”
“Yeah.” A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, “Thank you.” Biting your lip, you tentatively ask, “Will…will you come out so I can see you?”
The monster is quiet for a beat before saying, “I do not want to scare you.”
How bad could it really be? 
“I won’t be afraid, I promise.”
“I am not like your kind or anything that lives in this dimension.”
This dimension? Now you’re really curious, but you decide to table those questions for later in favor of coaxing this monster out from under your bed.
“I know,” you say as you take a step forward. You’ve already jumped way past the line of sanity by letting it fuck you with its tentacles so you might as well dive into the deep end at this point. “But you’ve seen all of me and I want to see all of you in return.”
It doesn't say anything for several moments and you wait patiently. “Very well,” it finally replies.
You watch with bated breath as the tentacles begin to slide forward. Soon there are dozens spilling from beneath your bed, squirming and writhing as a massive shape begins to form. Within moments, the monster has fully emerged and is looming over you, nearly blocking out the light from the window.
You gape in awe at the creature before you. Amidst the sea of tentacles that writhe from every side, is an amorphous, dark mass. You can’t quite tell what it’s made of but it looks almost like goo. When you take a step closer to get a better look, you can see that the surface is not actually black, but rather a deep shade of dark purple. The color appears to shimmer in the daylight as it gently undulates under your gaze. You also notice that it’s slightly transparent since you can make out the faint outline of your desk behind it.
As you stare at the creature, trying to drink in all the details, the tentacles begin to shift along its body so that a blank space forms on the side that’s facing you. Without warning, dozens of eyes suddenly blink open in front of you and you yelp in surprise. When a wide slit appears below the eyes, revealing two rows of black, razor sharp teeth, your breath catches in your throat and you take a half step back.
The tentacles droop at your reaction. “See? I told you that you would not like what you saw.”
“No!” You hurry to explain, “I was just startled, that’s all.”
“I will change my form to better suit your liking.”
You watch in fascination as the tentacles begin to melt into the dark mass until they are all gone. The eyes and mouth close and disappear as well. Its body then begins to morph, rippling and shuttering as it reforms into a roughly humanoid shape. Amazingly, the surface also flickers as the color lightens to a soft pink.
Two of its eyes blink open again in the approximate location of where human eyes would be. Except that one of the eyes is a bit too low, looking as if it’s melting off. The mouth also reappears, much smaller this time, but still with the same deadly teeth. When the monster stretches its mouth wide in a gut-churning imitation of a smile, you grimace.
Now this is utterly terrifying.
Swallowing the bile that’s trying to climb up your throat, you manage to choke out, “No—no that’s ok. I like your normal form just fine.”
“Are you sure? Would this not make you more comfortable?”
“I’m sure,” you say with a pained smile. “You can change back.”
“Very well then.”
You sigh in relief when the monster quickly shifts back to its original shape. When it first appeared, you thought it was beautiful in its own way, with its shimmering surface and gorgeous dark purple color. But now, after seeing the monstrosity of its “humanoid” version, you find that you quite like its true form.
“Much better,” you say with a genuine smile this time. Your grin only widens when it wriggles in obvious pleasure at your words.
“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” You ask, realizing you never actually had a proper introduction.
“I am called *garbled noises*”
Whatever name it just gave you is completely unintelligible to you. “Umm…sorry, what?”
It repeats the same unintelligible noises again and you wince, knowing it will be impossible for you to grasp, let alone repeat. “I uh—I don’t know if I can pronounce that. But the beginning kind of sounds like ‘Karl’. Would it be alright if I called you that?”
“You—you would give me a name?” It asks in a stunned tone.
Worried that you may have offended it, you try to backtrack a little, “I don’t have to! Only if you’re ok with it, I mean. I just—”
“I would be honored to be named you,” it interrupts you, its voice reverent.
Sighing in relief, you grin. “Ok then. It’s nice to meet you, Karl.”
“Kaaarrrlll,” it says, dragging out the sounds as if testing them out. “I shall be Karl from now on. Thank you very much for this gift, I will cherish it for eternity.”
Reaching out a tentacle towards you, Karl curls the end into a ball and holds it there. You stare down at it in confusion, blinking a few times. “What…what are you doing?”
“Is this not what humans do in greeting?” Karl replies, reaching down to grab your opposite arm with a tentacle. It wraps around your hand, manipulating it until your hand is in a fist. Then Karl lightly taps its balled up tentacle against your closed fist and says, “Sup, bro?”
You continue to stare in utter confusion for a moment until it dawns on you that Karl just tried to fist bump you and you burst out laughing.
“What is so amusing?” It asks in a mildly affronted voice. “I have seen many humans greet each other this way. The ones who throw around the big orange ball do this a lot.”
“That’s not…” you try to reply through wheezing gasps but you’re still laughing too hard. After a minute, you finally settle down and catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… that’s how friends might greet each other.”
“Are we not friends?”
“Well…” you hesitate. “We could be. But since we…Uh... Since we were intimate… That’s not how lovers would greet each other.” You manage to stumble through your explanation, hoping Karl understands what you’re trying to say.
“Are we…” it pauses, as if mulling over the word, “lovers?”
“I mean, I guess?” You hedge, not quite meaning for it to come out as a question.
“And how do lovers greet each other?”
Laughing awkwardly, you rub the back of your neck. “They…would kiss each other.” You can feel your cheeks flaming at the thought. This monster literally fucked you senseless twice and here you are, blushing like a school girl at the thought of kissing it.
“Kiss?”
Oh gods. Your cheeks manage to grow even hotter. Taking a step closer so that you’re only a few inches from Karl, you take a deep breath.
“Yeah, like this,” you say as you lean in and place a soft kiss on its now closed mouth.
Karl is quiet for a moment before demanding, “Do it again.”
⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt
655 notes · View notes
anistarrose · 2 years ago
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Chapters: 4/4 (!!)
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans & Magnus Burnsides, Magnus Burnsides & Everyone
Characters: Magnus Burnsides, Barry Bluejeans, Governor Kalen (The Adventure Zone), Kravitz (The Adventure Zone), Merle Highchurch, Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barry gets tired of being nice and goes ape shit AU, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical talk of suicidal recklessness, The Protector needs protecting too, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, minor/implied canon ships in the background
"I’ve been thinking,” Magnus begins, “about some… complicated stuff. And I feel like I’m getting somewhere with it, but… I think I might need someone to talk to, or at least someone who can listen, if I wanna get any further? So, no pressure, but if you’re okay with it —”
“Oh, of course! That’s absolutely okay, bud!” The smile Barry gives him is nothing but encouraging, but still, Magnus can’t help but hesitate.
“It’s — some parts are pretty heavy,” he warns him, but Barry shakes his head, unswayed.
“I appreciate your concern, Mags, but — but when it comes down to it, I have been waiting years to be able to help my family like this again, so please, don’t you worry about me.”
(keep reading on ao3) or (start from the beginning!)
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theobsessivesideblog · 1 year ago
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Trust Issues
An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.
Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well
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He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 
But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 
He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 
“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 
“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”
“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.
You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.
He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 
His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 
“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”
He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 
“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”
“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 
Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 
“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”
“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”
“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”
“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”
His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”
You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 
His brow furrows in confusion. 
“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”
Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.
“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 
“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.
“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”
“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 
“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 
“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”
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ozzgin · 13 days ago
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content: gender neutral reader, NSFW (public lewding, praise kink)
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Monster!Butler is an exceptional employee, displaying all virtues one would expect from his job and status. If he is to confess one flaw, however, he would agree his jealousy can become a tremendous weight, especially when it comes to you - his favorite little human.
He first discovered his shameful vice when you brought someone over, your smile a little too wide, your cheeks one shade too red. Oh, what an embarrassing affair, yet he couldn't help it: he paced back and forth outside your door, biting his claws, praying your sanctity wouldn't be defiled by some pathetic creature. He had to take matters in his own hands. He could not stand the thought of someone else having their way with you.
Consequently, the very next day, he proposed to you a peculiar arrangement: if you are to fool around, why not do it with someone you can trust, someone who can guide you along properly? Please, he nearly begged, use him for whatever needs or curiosities you might have.
How he relishes in this cheeky secret of yours! To be the one to know all of your desires and preferences, to be the only one to hear your sweet whimpers. As a matter of fact, he will sometimes afford a little self-indulgence and do something otherwise outrageous; he'll teasingly play with you around other people, almost erratic from the delight of claiming you so shamelessly, so publicly.
Your fingers tremble above the piano keys as the other guests chatter in the neighboring room.
"Just like I taught you, (Y/N)," your loyal butler will encourage you, whispering in your ear. "You're doing so good. I'm proud of you."
You squirm in his lap, feverish and stuffed to the brim. With every movement, you can feel his erection throb inside you, edging you closer.
"I really don't think I can p-play", you mumble, too worried that opening your mouth fully might result in a moan slipping out.
As if to mock you further, he readjusts his seating, pushing himself even deeper. You bite your lip.
"It's only polite we entertain the guests, my dear. Background music is an important element, and it blocks out any other distracting sounds."
His large hands hover underneath your wrists, nudging you to continue.
"You can let go whenever you want," he coos, breaking his usual conduct. "I'm here to take care of it."
Truth be told, the monstrous servant is finding it equally difficult to maintain his composure, especially once you begin jerking in his hold, reaching your peak. He has to bury his snout against your back, releasing a deep, quiet grunt.
God, he adores you so much.
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[Monster Butler Intro]
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mint-yooxgi · 4 months ago
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Kinktober Day 16 - Vampire!San + Cockwarming & Blood
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Anonymous Said: For kinktober I was thinking if you feel inspired by : San- Vampire, cockwarming (+ any another kink ��). Thank you for your work 💕!! A/n: I hope you don't mind, I chose blood! I thought it was fitting since vampire and all that hehehe though, it might not be what you initially think. Hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 958 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist
The bet was simple. Well, it was supposed to be.
The bet was supposed to be easy… 
In hindsight, the bet was stupid.
The bet was supposed to have you whining above him for more. Instead, he’s the one that seems to be withering beneath you.
“I thought you said you could handle it, My Heart.” You chuckle, turning another page of your book nonchalantly, as if his cock isn’t buried deep within your tight walls.
“I can, My Blood.” He gets out through gritted teeth, his jaw ticking as he attempts to keep a hold on the last few shreds of his remaining sanity. “I’m more worried about you.”
You eyes briefly dart from the page you’re reading and up to his face, a low chuckle falling from your lips. “I’m not the one ready to bust a nut at the slightest of movements.”
As if to emphasize your point, you clench around him. Hard.
A choked moan tumbles from his lips, tossing his head back as he squeezes his eyes shut. His hands, which have been settled on your waist this whole time, begin to shake, pulling you even tighter against him.
His cock twitches deep inside of you.
“It’s not my fault your senses are that much more heightened than mine.” You hum, nuzzling your nose affectionately against his ear.
Lightly, you shift over his lap, getting more comfortable. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, arms settled over his shoulders as you read a book in bed. Your bare chest is pressed flush against his own, head resting tenderly against his.
His hands slip around to your back, fingers tracing over your bare skin.
“Forgive me if having the most beautiful, perfect, tight little pussy wrapped around my cock makes me a bit sensitive.” He nips at your neck playfully. “Even more intense is knowing just who that pussy belongs to.”
“Oh?” Your brow quirks, pausing in your reading in order to pull back and meet his gaze. “Is this your attempt at flattery?”
“That depends.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Is it working?”
You snort out a laugh, hitting him lightly with your closed book. “In your dreams!”
“Every damn night, My Blood.” He coos, his gaze darkening as his eyes hood over.
“You’re insatiable.” You grin, shaking your head affectionately as you toss your book somewhere beside you on the bed.
“Only for you.” He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, nibbling gently at the skin there.
A soft, pleased sigh escapes you, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your head to the side. Your arms still rest lightly over his shoulders, revelling in his touch.
San’s chest rumbles with a low, content growl, pressing you further into him. His tongue darts out to flick against your pulse, fangs nipping at your neck before soothing the marks with his lips in the next second.
“Not fair.” You mumble, tightening your hold around his shoulders.
The only response you get is an amused hum as he flicks his gaze upwards to watch your each and every reaction to him.
“You know how much I enjoy the feeling of your fangs.” You pout, cracking your gaze open to playfully frown down at him.
“I have no idea what you're talking about…” He murmurs, biting over the side of your neck so that you can feel the press of his fangs against your skin. He, of course, doesn’t make you bleed. 
At least, not yet.
“Be careful what you wish for, My Heart.” You voice lowly. “Two can play at this game.”
With those words, you clench hard around him once more.
Shamelessly, a moan tumbles from his lips.
“Now, who’s not playing fair?” He rasps out, his chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares at you with dark eyes.
A giggle is all he receives in response as you roll your hips over his own.
Almost immediately, his hands are gripping your waist once more. His fingers dig into your flesh, lips curled over his fangs as he holds you steady above him.
A toothy grin paints your features, purposely clenching around him as you lean in. Your lips soon begin tracing over his pulse, nipping lightly at the skin of his neck.
His cock twitches deep inside of you.
The corner of your lips quirks upwards, biting marks over his skin. Your teeth press into his flesh, not enough to make him bleed, but enough so that he can feel exactly what you’re doing to him.
“My Blood-“ A soft hiss escapes him, fangs tracing over your pulse. 
You can feel his hot breath hitting your skin with every exhale he makes, only causing you to shiver. The buildup is telling, knowing exactly what he intends to do next.
You’re quicker.
Sinking your teeth into the tender flesh of his neck, you clench hard around him.
The moment he feels you breaking his skin, proceeded by you immediately suckling at the fresh bite mark you’ve just given him, he loses it. A loud groan escapes him, tossing his head back as his hips buck up into your own. His whole body trembles as spurt after spurt of hot come floods your cunt, dripping out of you and onto his balls.
Low, pleased growls escape him, holding you close as he rocks you against him. The way your tongue feels laving at the wound sends a shiver down his spine, your name nothing short of a whimper on his lips.
“You-“ His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. “Cheated.”
An innocent smile stretches across your features, eyes gleaming beneath the light of the room.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
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mrsshabana · 4 months ago
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𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Everyone told stories of his kind, but you chose to ignore them. You got so used to how tame your werewolf boyfriend acted around you that you forgot how dangerous he is. But when a full moon rises, his instincts become undeniable, and you quickly learn what he's truly capable of. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, hunter/prey, size difference, forbidden romance ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.3k words
༺ Art ༻
⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Chapter four ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist
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This is unusual behavior for your boyfriend. You haven't heard from him in days.
It's only been a couple of weeks that you've officially been his partner, but enough time has gone by that you feel like you know him enough to know this isn't normal.
Maybe that's just how werewolves are? You've never gotten close to a monster before, let alone a species that has a reputation for being dangerous to humans. But you never cared, you started having feelings for Gyutaro after the first time you met him. Everyone talks about how dangerous his kind is. But how could you resist those big fluffy ears, yellow golden eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth?
He may look like a big scary wolf, but around you, he acts like a golden retriever. Always so sweet and happy to be in your presence. All you have to do is walk into the room and his tail starts wagging.
He just can't help himself, you were the first person that didn't treat him like an outcast.
As Gyutaro got older he started to realize that he was destined to be alone. The chances of him finding a mate within his species were slim to none. A female would never accept him as a suitable partner due to his appearance. The spots on his face and body were something that no one was willing to pass on in their bloodline. It seemed like a silly concept to you, but for werewolves, these things are very important.
So when Gyutaro started having feelings for you he was more than happy to give your relationship a shot regardless of you being a human.
You never felt accepted by other humans, and he never felt accepted by other wolves. So when the two of you met it was like you finally found someone that understood you. However, both of you knew that your relationship was forbidden and would never be accepted, so you'd meet in secret.
He usually hangs out around your house after midnight, waiting for you so the two of you can disappear into the woods. Or at the very least, if the two of you aren't able to spend time together, he'll leave little gifts at your doorstep. Wildflowers, shiny rocks, or even the occasional dead rodent.
But it's been days since you've seen him or received any of his unusual gifts. It's like he just disappeared.
And now you're left a worried mess. He's never gone so long without speaking to you, it makes you think that maybe something happened to him.
In a last-ditch effort to find him, you search in the woods behind your house. Knowing that he loves running around and exploring there, it's the only place you might be able to find him at this time of night.
"Gyutaro!" you call out as you walk through the forest.
As you go deeper, you begin to hear what sounds like howling.
"That must be him!" you gasp, running towards the sound.
Once you get closer the howling stops and he picks up on your scent. Yellow eyes look back at you from within the trees.
"Gyu!" you smile and run towards him, "I was so worried about you!"
But he says nothing and just stares at you with wide eyes - panting like a stressed animal.
"Wh-what's going on...?" you say as you look at the strange scene before you.
Gyutaro has a chain attached to his collar and is tied to a large tree. It's sad to see him chained up like some kind of pet.
You can't tell if someone did this to him or if he did it to himself. There's no sign of anyone else, but you can't imagine why he would chain himself to a tree like that.
You reach out your hand and he immediately lunges forward with barred fangs. Looking like a feral stray as he snaps at you. But the chain chokes him, preventing him from getting to you.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" you mutter as your eyes begin to water.
Never have you seen him behave this way towards you. He's usually so gentle and sweet, you would have thought he wasn't capable of showing violence. However, at the end of the day, you know what he is and you should never forget what he's capable of.
And that's when you notice it. The full moon peeking from above the trees. How could you have been so naive?
Gyutaro must've chained himself up to protect you, knowing that he'd go feral on a full moon... and who knows what he may do to you.
Your stomach drops and your blood runs cold. Looking down at Gyutaro as he snarls and claws at the dirt, trying to get to you. You don't want to imagine what he will do to you if he breaks loose. He has a wild look in his eye, unlike anything you've ever seen before and it strikes fear into you.
You can hear the metal of the chain bending, it will snap any moment now.
You don't have any time to think about your boyfriend, this thing is no longer your boyfriend. For all you know, he could kill you if he gets loose.
Run. Run. Run. That's all you can think about as your fight or flight response kicks in. And you're sprinting deeper into the forest before you even realize it.
The branches cutting your skin as you run through the trees don't even bother you. You just need to get away from him.
After running what you consider to be a good distance, you look back to see that Gyutaro is gone and the chain lies snapped on the ground.
"Shit," you curse under your breath, realizing the danger that you're in. You have no other option but to keep running, and running, and running until you can't feel your feet anymore and your lungs burn.
A twig snaps, and you instantly turn to see those beautiful yellow eyes looking back at you. Stalking you like prey.
It only makes things worse when you run, causing his hunting instincts to kick in even more. In his eyes he no longer sees his girlfriend, all he sees is prey.
You cry and sob as he chases you, knowing that it won't be long until he catches up to you. And you're right, he quickly pounces on you. Trapping you beneath his large muscular body, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. The size difference alone is enough to make you freeze with fear. It never dawned on you just how much larger he is than you. And as you lay there helplessly pinned beneath him you realize just how terrifying a seven-foot-tall werewolf can be.
"G-Gyutaro, please!" you sob, "It's me, Y/N! I'm your girlfriend, remember?" You desperately try to remind him of who you are, make him remember that he would never hurt his precious girlfriend.
But he doesn't remember, and even if he did he wouldn't care. Because the full moon makes him go feral and blindly follow his instincts.
From this angle, he no longer looks like your boyfriend. He looks like a monster. The monster that everyone said he was, but you never listened. Maybe if you did you wouldn't be in this situation right now.
Drool drips down his chin as he snarls, showing off his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that could easily wrap around your pretty little neck. He breathes heavily, panting as the fur on the back of his neck stands on end. He looks like he wants to devour you, but he doesn't.
For a moment you're confused. But then you see it.
The erection between his legs - so painfully hard that it's ripping the seams of his pants.
You thought that he wanted to eat you, but you were wrong. He wants to breed you.
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