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narrators-journal · 1 year ago

Note

im gonna just send u these in a little bulk and you can do em whenever u want, anyway, ryomina teratophilia n dacryphilia <3

Is this good? I don’t know at this point. But was it fun to write? Yes! I wrote it as a personal gift to myself for my birthday, so I went full guilty pleasure, self-indulgent, personal favorite thoughts sort of angle. I just wanted my favorite personal Ryoji form included lol. Also! Shout out to SleepyCoffeeOwl on Ao3! Who was nice enough to read over a bit of this beast for me! They helped me fix up a few things about this lil story, so I’m very grateful to them.

Also! While I will be rather busy around halloween, If you make/made a request I promise I’ll get to it! I’ll write into November if I need lol. So feel free to ask away until the 31st!

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Predator/prey, teratophilia, at least a little dacryphilia, overstimulation, dubcon yet again, size difference, cum inflation, canonicity is very loose. My own monster design,

With a sigh, Minato Arisato trailed behind Junpei and Yukari as they patrolled the silent streets of the dark hour. Watching the smaller, less hostile shadows skitter away from them, or stare at the trio as they went, admiring the rotund moon hanging in the sky, and breathing in the stale, cold air.

It was boring.

Not his work as a SEES member, that was always interesting on some level, even when he was doing little else but strolling around in the oddly colored night. No, what was boring was not having his mp3 player to occupy his mind on their patrols.

Not from lack of trying, though. The blue-haired emo had tried all that he could think of to bargain, barter, threaten, and even proposition Mitsuru to put a plume of dusk into his mp3 player so that it functioned like her bike.

It went over about as well as you’d expect. So, while Yukari and Junpei were going back and forth with their semi-flirting bickering ahead of him, Minato simply found another way to entertain himself. watching the small hand creatures skitter about like some fucked up version of rats, or the whispy clouds that hung in the vibrant sky, or played I-spy with himself.

At least, until his mindless daydreaming made him run into a suddenly tense Yukari. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing that Junpei had his broad sword at the ready, so he went ahead and pulled out his katana. Scanning the silent streets ahead of them for any sign of threat until Junpei finally whispered, “I think someone, or something, is ahead of us.” nodding towards an alley further down the sidewalk, where a soft shuffling could be heard in the stagnant air. “Minato, why don’t you go check it out? You’re the one with all of the personas. You’d have a better chance if it’s hostile.” Yukari suggested, getting a scowl from the shaggy-haired wildcard before he pushed past them. Whispering to her as he went, “Just admit you’re scared.” and not hanging around to let her hiss out some indignant venom.

Instead, he crept forward with his weapon drawn and his senses keen for any sudden sounds. Though, in an odd twist, there wasn’t any sound. Outside of the shuffing and pained whimpering of whatever was in the alley, the street had gone as still and silent as a grave. That’s a new one. He thought, but mostly brushed it off and kept his focus on the potential enemy. Though, when he got close enough to the alleyway to press himself to the brick wall of the store, the first thing he noticed wasn’t blood, the sound of ripping flesh, or aything like that, but the strong scent of graveyard dirt and decay.

That wasn’t normal. While the dark hour had a cold, stale taste to the air, sometimes with the tinge of iron or still water, it never smelled so clearly of decay.

Yet, when Minato peeked around the brick wall of the coffin-filled store, he didn’t find any shadows ripping someone apart, or even Strega dealing with a fresh corpse. Only a brunette man in a vibrant yellow scarf curled into the fetal position on the dingey alley floor. “Ryoji?” He asked, his defenses dropping along with his sword, Junpei and Yukari giving squawks of, “Ryoji?!” To mimic his own, but he waved them off. Keeping them at a distance as he stepped closer to the late-semester transfer student. Trying with a gentler edge to his flat voice, “Hey, are you okay, Ryoji? Are you hurt? Scared?” Which, got him no reply. So, he took another step closer and knelt down to put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder.

And that was when he reacted. Ryoji’s voice, usually sing-song and light as a feather, burst out in a guttural snarl that felt as if it physically knocked Minato back. “Get away from me, Minato!” Yet, at the same time that his words were deep and forceful, the sharp edge of pleading rang in the wildcard’s head like a bell. “Huh?! The fuck do you mean? If you’re hurt, I need to help! Otherwise, you’ll get your ass eaten! And not in the way you like.” He snapped back, returning to his feet while Ryoji tried to drag himself away from the man. Which, was the most unnerving part of the encounter. Seeing a man who usually greeted Minato like a hyper dog seemingly power through hellish pain to escape him. Fucking ouch. “Mochizuki, get your ass back here right now-” “NO!”

That time, his voice knocked the breath from Minato like a punch to the gut. Some small part of his long-numbed brain getting frazzled. Awakening a dose of dread that the blue-haired man hadn’t felt for eleven long years. “What...the fuck?…” He breathed out, a hand on his chest to steady his frantic heart rate as his storm-colored eyes watched the brunette curl into a ball against the back wall like a beaten dog. Shaking like a leaf in a tornado, with...blood? on his hands. “Ryoji. Are you okay?” He asked, stepping closer again, his annoyance and confusion put aside for concern. “Please...leave me alone. Run…” Ryoji said, his voice quieter, that time. Less hostile, yet still powerful enough to make the blue-haired wildcard shiver in a mix of excitement and fear. But, he ignored his pleas and pushed through the odd sensation.

He took another step closer, reaching for the brunette again. But, before he could grab Ryoji to try and pull him out of the passage, the cowering man screamed. Startling the persona user again, but not nearly as much as the bloody, slimey appendage that ripped itself from Ryoji’s back with a sick, wet ripping sound. “Minato?! What the hell is going on?!” Yukari asked, closer than she had been. “Stay back!” He snapped back, not letting his stormy eyes leave what turned out to be a fucking wing. Ryoji was growing wings, but not only one or two, but four. The transfer student who’d been so desperate to befriend him wasn’t human. “R-Ryoji?” He tried again, his voice almost a whisper. Inwardly wincing at the edge of anxiety in his words. “What...what’s going on?” He asked, stepping back as he spoke. Watching as the boy cried and contorted in pain. His body bulging and shifting beneath his skin and clothes, his face twisting into a sick grin as his teeth fell out and his eyes darkened. It was almost too horrifying to watch, yet kept Minato’s eyes glued to his classmate. Rooted to the spot by the pained, inhuman shrieks to watch what was human only a moment ago, slowly turn into something more beastial. Something that made Yukari shriek behind Minato.

And just like that. The spell was broken.

Turning on his heel, Minato bolted like a rabbit from a wolf. Blind of where he was going, just knowing that he couldn’t stay, and that he couldn’t stay with Junpei or Yukari. Though, he was vaguely aware that the duo seemed to follow his lead, each haring off from the scene of the crime the moment they saw Minato fleeing the alcove between buildings. Though, the wildcard’s adrenaline wasn’t racing out of fear exactly, In the frantic rush to get away, enough clarity was there to identify that much.

No, the midnight-haired emo wasn’t running out of some fear of dying to whatever creature Ryoji was becoming, but simply because it was what felt right. After all, while not knowing what the hell his classmate was, he was damned sure of one thing. He was predatory.

So, the wildcard ran for all his training with Akihiko was worth. Down dark alleys, empty streets. Dodging immobile cars and caskets housing the normal citizens of Tatsumi port, he let that odd, amoral rush of excitement and dread push him further. His feet pounding into the asphalt, his blood rushing in his ears, and his mind racing with alternating thoughts of Gotta get away, and Oh god I hope he’s chasing me. Like the two most primal parts of himself were battling within him. Yet, only one got its wish. “Mina! Come back!” Ryoji’s voice called from the silent street behind him. The sing-song sugar back in his words, but the impact of his words wasn’t entirely softened. Whatever was calling to him may have been Ryoji Mochizuki, but he wasn’t the Ryoji he knew.

Which...was thrilling.

The rush of dread was overtaken by the buzz of giddiness at that point. Making Minato’s breaths puff out in gasps as he hooked around a corner and ran down another thin passage to a new street. Fueled by the rush he got each time the monster’s voice called out, “Mina! Funeral lily! Come here! I won’t hurt you!” “Please! I just want to see you! Mina!” With what Minato thought might be an exilerating edge of desperation. God what the hell am I doing?! That thing’s not human! I shouldn’t be aroused at it chasing me! He scolded himself, trying to get his barrings on whatever perverse side of himself was muddying his thoughts, but that didn’t stop that voice from arguing, Okay, but he’s capable of intellegent speech, and whatever it is WAS Ryoji ten minutes ago. It wouldn’t be a sin-

The thought was shoved away. Minato was no stranger to odd hook-ups, but a classmate who turned into a shadow? That was enough to make his stomach itch with shame.

Yet, in his thoughtless weaving between streets and coffins, Minato realized that he had managed to lose track of where he was. Even when he tried to spot identifiable landmarks as he ran, nothing looked even vaguely familiar. The full, yellow-green moon doing nothing to clear up the thick shadows, and the air that stung Minato’s lungs still tasted of decaying leaves and graveyard dirt. It shouldn’t have, though. After all, he was running down a dark street lined with houses, not graveyards or dead trees. If the dark hour hadn’t been in effect, the place would’ve been nothing more than your average, well-off culdesac.

Yet, the dark hour was in effect. So, instead of a peaceful neighborhood with an HOA, the green-tinted street was full of dark nooks and the peering eyes of whatever courageous monsters dared peer out of their hidey holes.

Yet, that was all the shadows did. That’s all that they had done ever since Ryoji had turned into...whatever he became. Even with Minato disoriented from confusion and weakening from exhuastion, no shadows dared try to attack.

So, with legs like jello, and the coordination of a baby deer, the blue-haired man almost involuntarily slowed to a stop at the end of the block. Peering around at the houses and yards that blocked his escape. Steadying his breathing as best he could to try and focus on the eerie silence of the eerie neighborhood to try and pick out any suspicious squeak or tap on the asphalt or houses.

Nothing.

Even the usual ambiance of shadows going about their usual existence, or the stirring of air under, assumedly, Ryoji’s new wings had been mute for...however long. That’s not good, is it? Minato asked himself, looking behind himself as he thought. What does it mean when a monster scares the other shadows? Even the arcana shadows had smaller shadows in their areas. He thought, his wide, stormy eyes studying every non-descript lump of darkness before turning his head back around. Only to feel the tickle of heaving, night-scented feathers on the tip of his nose.

Sitting before him, pale mask smiling down at Minato from an impressive height, was that human-bird abomination that was Ryoji.

How the fuck did he get here?! Was the shaggy-haired man’s first panicked thought, only for another to rear-end that blip of as soon as he’d had it. How close has he been this entire time?Did I ever even lose him? Was he only messing with me by letting me run? Are Mitsuru and the others okay? Are they alive?! And many more piling up like a car wreck until all the man could do was tilt his head back numbly to look up at the beast that was once a lovesick classmate.

With that same wind-brushed hairstyle Ryoji wore with two twinges jutting up like antennae. A mask-like face of snow white with bottomless pits for eyes and an eerie, toothless smile. Not to mention skin that--Minato took a step back without realizing it. It was grotesque. That skin so black, as black as obsidian stretched over a large, human upper body that was no longer an average, soft weight, but emaciated. It was like the goofy man had morphed into some feverish nightmare. A feverish nightmare that now sat in front of him in the flesh. With his four large, dark feathered wings shimmering with unearthly color in the green light at any small movement, and two...were they legs, since he had human arms? Hind legs? Of a bird. Each four-toed foot adorned with claws sharp enough to slice chromium like hot butter.

If it wasn’t for the voice whispering in the wildcard’s head about the looming beast being a predator, he would’ve seemed kind of cute with how he sat. Watching the wildcard with his legs out in front of him when the man all but fell on his ass to crawl away from him. ”R-Ryoji?...” Minato tried, the tentative word little more than a lustful-fear-choked croak in the stillness of the green night. Yet, it seemed to be all the invitation the shadow needed. Reaching for the blue-haired persona user with boney, clawed fingers to pluck him off of the asphalt while he tried to scramble back to his feet.

Not that running anymore would have done any good. After all, it had only taken Minato looking away for a brief moment for the beast to be mere centimeters in front of his face. It didn't take a rocket scientist to calculate the chances of his escape.

But, that didn’t stop the blue-haired man from writhing and fighting to get out of the monster’s hand. Even resorting to trying to bite him, though to no avail. All he managed to do was exhaust himself. All the while, Ryoji stared down with his bottomless eyes like his attacks were nothing. As if Minato was only laying limp in his palm. Only stilling him with a series of cooes, trills and trapping Minato under his thumb so he could use a claw to gently cut through the mortals clothes.

He was cutting Minato’s clothes off. “H-hey! Don’t do- Stop that!” The wildcard squawked, his cheeks burning with a melancholy mix of skin-tingling excitement and cold disgust. Swatting at whatever he could reach to stop the shadow from stripping him like some lewd doll. But, for all his fighting, the blue-haired emo only got was a happy, sing-song trill from the beast. Allowed to kick and snap to his heart's content since, with his midsection trapped, it was all in utter vain. Yet, he still tried. Minato fought for all he was worth to worm his way to freedom, or at all dissuade the bird-thing.

Yet, all that got him was a sweat by the time the beast finally slipped the now-ruined school pants from his body. No progress in his fight for freedom, just tired, with a nagging sense of blood-thrumming fear. All Minato could do was slam his fist down on Ryoji’s hand and plead, with rain threatening to fill his cloudy eyes. “Please...Ryoji, please don’t.” Only to get a gentle shushing, like a soft breeze through the trees on a quiet night, and an affectionate chirp in response. Before the masked monster lowered his head, and a long, wet tongue slithered out from the mouth of his eerie mask. “Hold on, what- what are you- Ah!”

Leaving a slick trail of warm saliva in its wake, the tip of the shadow’s long tongue languidly slid from his asshole, up and over his groin. Coming to a stop below his ribcage where a ripple of shame continued to Minato’s burning face at how the slow drag of the wet muscle over his pale skin made his stomach flutter. Oh god, am I...am I ACTUALLY into this? Minato thought, trying again to wriggle out of the shadow’s hold. What is that supposed to mean? How is this even registering as hot in the first place?! But, those questions got shunted into the depths of his mind for later when Ryoji’s monstrous form circled its tongue around Minato’s member. Letting out a whine from whatever mouth that perpetual smile hid. as if disappointed that the 5’6 persona user didn’t have the proportions to…what? Fuck him with? Ryoji, I swear to god if I survive this encounter, we will be having such a talk.

Yet, that moment wasn’t the right one for questions. The priority in that moment was to try and bite back the pleasure flowing into his stiffening member. Yet, the slick warmth, flexing muscles, and calculated movements worked together to pick off each one of the wildcard’s mental defenses regardless.

And, there was no way Ryoji was clueless about what he was doing. Even though Minato saw nothing but a void of endless darkness when he looked into those eyes, he could tell from the beast’s use of that cursed, blue-black tongue that the squeezing and stroking was 100% intentional. Curated specifically to deftly increase the hellfire under his skin until his rational thoughts were overrun with that familiar headrush of need.

The monster’s tongue worked him until Minato’s attempts to get free of the thumb pinning him had devolved into thoughtless pants and humping into the moist heat. The more aggressive those lewd impulses became, the foggier Minato’s thoughts became. And in turn, the less he could focus on fighting, or even his own shame.

At least, that was the logic Minato could piece together to rationalize his predicament. That was all he could do, after all. Lay in the beast’s hand, pinned beneath his thumb. Fighting for some coherent thought while his hips twitched and moved with Ryoji's tongue in a disgraceful dance. Until, despite his attempts to stall, the bubbling rush of excitement crept in. “Ryoji! W-wait, I’m gonna cum!” Minato yelled, sure to wince at how whiney and desperate he sounded later. But, in that moment of forbidden bliss, when the friction and technique won against his denials and rationale, all he could do was claw into the creature as his stomach clenched and shuddered with pulsing pleasure.

In the aftermath, Minato hadn’t even the energy to contemplate what had happened. All he could do was let his head loll back and gulp in desperate breaths of nearly-stale night air. Meanwhile, his captor lapped up whatever stray squirt managed to escape him. And Minato let him. Letting the warm weight of the shadow’s tongue press into his body while he tried to will the stability back into his gelatinized legs.

Yet, in that moment of leisure, what Minato didn’t expect, was the cool asphalt to be what touched his stomach next. But, sure enough, when his storm-grey eyes snapped open he no longer looked into the tornado-green sky, but down an abandoned road. Still ladden with thick shadows and no sign of life outside of the rumbling and shifting weight of the human-bird abomination above him. Those noises soon giving way to a more gut-twisting soundtrack that was all too familiar to the man.

The sound of bones crunching and cracking. Of muscle tissue tearing apart like a fork tender roast.

He didn’t dare look back to see the explanation. Minato didn’t even think of his lack of clothing as his feet scrambled against the unyielding blacktop. The only thing on his mind for those precious few seconds was Run! Oh god, get out of the car!

Before, the frantic train of thought crashed on its tracks. Minato kept from his freedom by a firm, yet measured weight pinned his belly back to the road. And, while the shadow’s hand was smaller, big enough to hold onto the back of Minato’s neck to keep him in place on the rough terrain, but not engulf his entire body, he could still feel how much of the beast’s strength Ryoji held back. ”Stay. Put.” Came the order. Whispered in a melodious voice that was equal parts smooth and soothing, and gutteral. Like a verbal shot of cinnamon. Spicy, yet still capable of luring out a small whimper from the wildcard. The power in those two words reverberated through Minato. Snatching away the courage to fight, and replacing it with a taboo bolt of enticing fear. Which, was a feat. Considering the emo was rarely intimidated by the horrific creatures in the dark hour, yet, with Ryoji’s clawed hand around his throat and his masked face close enough for his warm breaths to stir the edge of the persona user’s shaggy fringe, his pride couldn't help but take a back seat to the mingling and mixing of fear, disgust, and desire.

Yet, he didn’t get much time beyond that to beat himself up for cowing down to a monster, or how his dick twitched. Because once the beast was sure he wasn’t going to try and bolt again, his hands were back to exploring Minato’s body. Feeling along every scar and curve as his face nuzzled into the man’s neck to lap at his skin and drink in the scent of his lavender body wash. Meanwhile, Minato could hear his talons clicking on the paved road while the monster adjusted his size and stance. Keeping himself large enough to pin his prey, but judging from what parts of his body the wildcard could feel lifting his hips or puffing against his neck, small enough so that he wouldn’t kill him. Once satisfied, though, his face finally dislodged from the persona user's neck. Instead trailing mimed kisses down his spine. So, taking the opportunity to sate curiosity, Minato took stock of what he could through the storm of uneasy pleasure and disgust.

The first thing, was the utter lack of any noise. Even with it feeling as if the Dark Hour should end, the plump moon hung overhead in the sky, so the streets still lacked the usual night life. Secondly, and more worrying, was that despite Ryoji's reveal as a monster, the brush of a barbed something against his ass still made Minato's cock twitch again.

Ryoji lifted him off of the pavement. Abruptly dragging him out of his contemplation and back to his position as the plaything of a semi-human bird creature. Who, when the wildcard looked, had sat back on his hind legs to calculate how to go about the next step. Yet, whatever thoughts might be going through Ryoji’s monstrous head was secondary to the...member Minato saw between the creature’s legs.

After all, with a softer pink skin tone to contrast the ebony color painted onto Ryoji’s skeletal frame and soft barbs going down its length, it was hard to miss. Tapered at one end, drooling a thick precum, the appendage didn’t quite look like a human dick. But watching it twitch while he was placed over him, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess its use. “H-hey, wait! Ryoji, that’s too- Fuck!”

Regardless of his words, the monster pushed him down onto the odd cock. Stretching and filling the blue-haired mortal to the point of sparks of pain. Thankfully only pushing a little over the ‘tip’ in, but against Ryoji's cool, skeletal chest, the squirt of heat that filled Minato’s stomach was overwhelming. Bringing more tears to his dark eyes as he clawed into Ryoji’s hand, Jesus, how big is he at this point?, while the monster ground into Minato’s ass until the blue-haired man breathed out a quiet moan.

That was all it took. One small sign of possible consent, and the shadow was fluttering his wings and pushing him further down his length until Minato gasped and yelped, “R-Ryoji!” Throwing his head back and clawing into the monster that held his midsection. Yet, any concern he was going to voice escaped him. Because, as he stared up into the bottomless eyes of that pale mask, and the thickening cock slipped deeper inside of him, pleasure overtook him. The barbs added a delicious bit of extra drag over every sensitive inch of Minato’s body they managed to reach, and It was breathtaking. the lascivious mix of pain and pleasure, leaving no more room for fears of the consequences.

Instead, the only fear Minato could find as he was drug up and down Ryoji's cock only heightened the thrill. All he could focus on was how helpless, full, hot, and good he felt. Shaking with pain from how he was being stretched, but at the same time, Ryoji’s cock never seemed to miss a weak spot. The barbs brushing along his clenching walls, flooding his blood with a fresh bout of fiery thunder with each drag. All the while, the curve of the dick allowed the tip to grind perfectly against Minato’s prostate when the bird monster moved right. The disgust at being a shadow's toy would come later. For now, Minato lost himself in the stomach-tightening bliss.

All the while, Ryoji smiled down at him, puffing out breaths and growling with his own pleasure. Keeping a careful hold on Minato as to not squeeze his guts out, and letting the smaller male claw into his fingers against the pain. Not seeming to care for a second. even when the emo managed to break skin a little bit, all he seemed worried about was the lewd moans and whimpers Minato gave, and the wet schlick schlick schlick of his cock working its way into the mortal until no more could be squeezed into him.

He only paused his pursuit of every possible sound Minato could make once. Right when the wildcard felt as if he was about to unravel a second time that night. “What the fuck?!” was the thoughtless snap that delay got. Minato's chest heaving, his hair a mess from sweat, and his grey eyes flashing with impatience when he snarled up at his captor. Yet, all the shadow did to his annoyance was snort. Wiping away the tears that had started trailing down Minato’s cheeks in the heat of the moment. Lifting his hand back to the grinning mouth of his pale mask, the monster lapped up the salty tears and cooed down at the mortal. As if to thank him for something. Admittedly, through the haze of nearing orgasm and taboo mixing of pain and dread, it was hard to tell.

Then, without missing a beat, he was back to thrusting into Minato. Trilling when the mortal gave a startled mix of a moan and a yelp. Though, this time, the monsoon of hot pleasure and satisfying fullness didn’t stop. Even when more tears escaped Minato’s usual impeccable control, Ryoji would only trill as he ground into him. Dragging him along the barbs of his inhuman cock with increasingly unsteady hands. But, to Minato's gratitude, the soft bristles kept the human-bird abomination from speeding up.

Yet, even when his inky wings flared out and flapped in some mindless search for leverage, he kept going. The unyielding onslaught of euphoria breaking down the emo’s shame. Going and going without a sign of break. Flooding him with euphoria until an electrical current soaked into Minato’s muscles. Arching his back in the monster’s hand as a yowl ripped from him. Partially out of pain, but also born from the crescendo of bliss that rushed to his head at last.

Yet, the wildcard didn’t get to enjoy his orgasm for long. That rush of dopamine immediately gobbled up by a harsh sting of pain that increased the further past his limit Ryoji pushed him. “Ry...oji…” He muttered. Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the way being so full soured from a pleasing burn, to a colder pain. Yet, the winged shadow was too far away to hear him. Continuing to drag him along his ridged cock like a toy. Enjoying the whines, tears, and hisses just as much as Minato's moans and pants.

Again, all Minato could do was whine and plead to the discolored night. His words lost on his captor, and his strength ebbing in the acidic waves of masochistic pleasure. Clinging to those sparks of dark need to keep him from passing out or letting the aches and stings of Ryoji's member stretching him overwhelm him.

Regardless, though, the wildcard hung on. Focusing on whatever he could to keep his shaking body from going too limp or his vision from going too dark. Until, at long last, Ryoji’s wings flared out a final time and gave a shudder as he pumped what felt like molten lava into Minato’s body. Overwhelming his senses once more with sensations. Ryoji, meanwhile, throbbed inside of him. Panting against Minato's back and letting out small noises into the discolored night as his four wings quivered and shimmered.

He was beautiful, in that odd, sad sort of way you might find a body in a casket to be beautiful. The shimmering of his feathers subsided, his pale mask contrasting against his dark skin. It was as if he demanded all Minato’s focus, even as he did little more than coo and chirp down at the wildcard in sleepy affection. Though, perhaps that focus was Minato’s encroaching loss of consciousness.

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