#monster!cod

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Since the next fic has fully shifted Monster Hybrid!König, I figured I'd give you guys a ref for what he looks like. He's certainly a big boy, I'll tell you all that much for sure. He's probably one of the, if not the biggest shifter Kortac has on base.

[chocolate1721]

I love this so much!!!! Thank you!

ok, i know it’s not may any more, but could we please have more mer au. ghost preferably, i just want to shake him around in a bag like that one little girl from finding nemo.

hands you a carnival prize plastic bag with a goldfish-sized mer Ghost inside. feed him twice a day. plastic shipwreck not included. he might look lonely but don't let him convince you to put your fingers in the bowl :)

take the first half of this thing too:

36 / 1k / shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

Ghost doesn’t look back at you as you swim meekly after him. You have to whip your smaller tail twice as fast just to keep up, and you're getting winded already. He makes it look so easy to glide through the water.

"What now?" he mutters.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

“You’re thinking it.”

"I was just--" A huge yawn overtakes your reply. You sink in the water for a moment, scrunching your eyes closed, before huffing and darting after him again. "--Just going this way, too."

He knows you've been following behind him since dusk. You should’ve given up some time ago, but you never learn. He slows imperceptibly, just long enough for your catatonic ass to catch up, and then veers to the side so that you--rubbing your eyes with sleep--bump into him. You rest your hand against his tail instinctively and stick to him with the suction pads on your palm.

Satisfied having you in tow, he speeds back up. "You’re not a very good liar, sweetheart."

You mumble under your breath and hand-climb up his back until you're nestled between his shoulder blades instead.

Lazy little thing. Pain in his ass.

Despite grumbling, he does nothing to dislodge you from your spot. You seem to be having a difficult day, and he’s primed to make it worse. You’re the perfect target. When he has the energy--like now, at night--bullying you is his small pleasure of choice.

Then again, he can feel the way you’re pressing up against him, small and clingy and cute as hell. It takes all his willpower not to roll over and stow you against his chest instead.

You remain blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. You’re more concerned about the emptiness in your stomach.

"You're going hunting, right?" you mumble against his shoulder.

 “Trying to,” he says.

You’ve been tagging along on hunts for days, but you haven’t managed to snag any good scraps in a long while. But maybe tonight, when it’s just you and Ghost. "Mkay."

He keeps waiting for you to get in the way and then pout when he inevitably brushes you off. Instead, you’re silent. It’s bugging him.

Then, scanning the coral, he catches sight of a perfectly tasty-looking snapper. He puts your attitude out of his mind and instead tenses up to begin his hunt. You’re with him, so why worry. Watch and learn.

You peer past his shoulder curiously to see him work. His back muscles tense and shift as his eyes track every one of the fish’s movements. Then he bolts forward faster than the fish can dart away. It whips around in reflexive panic right as he snatches it in one fluid movement.

You watch over his shoulder as he kills it with a practical snap of the spine and begins to disassemble the creature piece by piece, eating the flesh and letting the bones and fins fall to the ocean floor below.

His focus is intense: attention trained on the task, his fingers work as precisely to strip flesh from bone as his jaw works on shredding the pieces of snapper he tears off into his mouth. The muscles in his shoulders ripple beneath your coiled-up body. As always, he moves with efficiency and a certain brutal grace, never wasting a single movement. It's the lethal behavior of a predator, yes, but falling into the repetitive, methodical habit seems to satisfy him.

You unfasten yourself from his back while he's absorbed in his task. The bones and bits of uneaten flesh sinking to seafloor have your interest. You swim after them.

“Don’t go far,” he warns after you. He’s not worried. There’s nowhere you could venture out here that he couldn’t find you within minutes.

You collect the scraps and eat what you can--mostly skin and fins, and they leave you feeling almost as hungry, but you're used to it. Ghost needs the food more than you do, anyway. You glide lazily over the sea floor to comb the sand with your fingers in hopes of finding another snack. Maybe a snail. A crab if you're lucky.

The search leads you to the edge of a long sandbar. It’s about a thousand minnow-lengths at its widest, and there are various shells and bits of debris scattered across the surface. You start to prowl the sandy floor for food, fingers stirring up soft sand into the water.

Ghost’s voice calls out somewhere behind you, but your exhausted brain isn't as reactive as it should be. If you could just find one or two more bites to eat, you think. You tug what looks like a crab carapace out of the sand, but it's just a strawberry-colored plastic bottle. You keep searching. Keep finding nothing of value. You come across a pile of barnacles, shards of coral, small rocks, a stray fishing lure you gnaw on just to be sure...

But no, nothing worth eating.

Your stomach rumbles again. You’re too tired and unfocused. Your movements are slow and clumsy, your senses dulled. You barely hear a sound until a hand comes down on your tail from behind and grabs you.

You jerk and dart away in surprise.

Your movement wrenches a sound from Ghost--a gruff huff of annoyance as he lunges after you. You're fast, but not fast enough. He catches your tail again immediately, dragging you back into his control.

"Idiot," he scolds. "I told you not to go far. If I had been a predator, you'd be dead meat right now."

You relax into his grip instantly. "Oh. Yeah."

He looks at you in that unamused way that says of course I was right. He looks you over with a critical eye. Your eyes are half-open and your muscles are slack. You must be exhausted.

He turns and heads for home with you still in hand. "Right, then."

You see what's happening and wriggle in his grip, hunger gnawing at you again. "Wait, aren't you hunting?"

"No." He's quick and harsh with his response. He doesn't appreciate unnecessary questions. "You're going home. Hunting can wait."

…

[part 1] / part 2

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[pazza-di-te]

I looove bear shifter!price

How it makes sense since he's build like one, muscly with the perfect amount of chub and hairy too.

Bear!Price who shifts into a bear when he notices your stress or just upset. He would always enjoy how you pet his fur or boop his nose.

Bear!Price who I bet would be so good with hugs, a full on bear hug with his hairy arms around you and your head just laying on his chest.

Bear!Price who prefers to sleep naked with you, nothing sexual (sometimes). He likes the feel of another person next to him especially the one he loves. Breathing and living just next to him. If he wakes up earlier than you, he has a habit of staring for awhile.

♡♡♡

Bear!Price who uses his strength to manhandle you into a position he wants. Mating press? His pressing his weighted body onto your folded one to keep you in place, his warm body covering you perfectly.

Bear!Price, who, during his upcoming hibernation, eats twice or thrice his normal food amount and would gladly bring freshly butchered meat for you to cook. After eating dinner awhile, he sometimes request dessert, his favorite? You. Get on the table.

Bear!Price who you have to get use to his stamina during spring, just days after his hibernation. That sleep refereshed something more than his energy and you have to mentally prepare whats coming in to you.

[avi-mation]

Salmon, the sea monster and the cod boy with the mission to get that mending

I luv this lil trio :3

[yanderestarangel]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)

"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.

You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.

Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.

You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.

Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.

All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.

The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.

Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.

"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.

You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.

"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.

[s3rrrpentine]

soap will be hearing dad jokes but like 3 times

[bluegiragi]

brief.

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster!König whose first course of action after the monster uprising was to find his missing bunny wife!Reader who has no idea he even considered them married in the first place. König who is clueless when it comes to societal norms or concepts and learns about marriage through picking up conversations from scientists back when he was locked up. (Still doesn’t have the greatest grasp on it even after getting his hands on human books and media) Reader is just happy to be free from being used as a breeding machine and had no idea her cell?mate thought their relationship ran that deep and wants to get legally married now. :/

Some of the scientists laughed, calling you Konig's little bunny wife. A packmate, someone to get his stress dumped in so their captive monster could be less of a killing machine and more of someone who can actually be controlled and sated. Throw him a bitch with a leaky hole and whiny voice, and he'd be satisfied until the end of time. Konig doesn't like the sound of laughter that comes from the scientists, but he likes the word "wife" forced on you. Wife. Pretty, cute, adorable, small, and fragile thing that needs him to survive - it's basic biology. Needy bunnies like you can't survive in a world filled with humans and certainly can't do it in the new reality, where the strongest are getting all the cards. When Konig eventually gets out, he reads - to his surprise, really, and to the surprise of all of his comrades who would much rather burn everything the old rulers of their world have left. But Konig reads - romance novels, human courting rituals, the true meaning of the word wife and the word husband. He thinks of ways he can put together a wedding worthy of his precious little bunny - when he would finally get her with him, of course. He finds you, of course - it's not that hard to find a bunny in this shrunken world when he has almost all of the power he could have. A colonel in the monster forces, somewhat of a hero waiting for his mate to arrive - you're given to him as a gift from his comrades, a pack of soldiers eager to please their commander. Yes, the little bunny was crying and squirming in his grasp when she was delivered, but it's hardly his fault, is it? Konig just isn't quite sure on how to go about this whole marriage thing and what to do when your pretty wifey is desperately trying to get out of his grasp. He squeezes your throat a bit until you stop trashing in his hold and then spends the rest of the evening exploring your precious needy holes with his tentacles and his hands. God, he missed the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock, desperate for him to release his seed. You're a bad little thing for denying him, but it's okay, he can work with that. He doesn't care if you're dumb or ungrateful - he will just press further, push his cock as deep into you as possible, squeezing your soft breasts until he swears the milk will come. He will have to breed you for this, of course - as thoroughly as possible until you can't help but cry and moan in his hold. Scientists never allowed him to actually dump his eggs in you, always afraid that he would get too possessive and territorial protecting his clutch and the pregnant mate - but oh, no one is there to stop him now. You would forget all about resisting in a bit - it would be much easier to push you around once you're getting the role of his pretty little wife, just like you were intended to.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I'm always completely blown away by your art. You're so insanely good, and you make my little blorbos actually look cute/cool. I adore your work so much!

Also, I'm so glad you got that the wings are attached to the hands because I was worried that didn't come through.

daily König sketch… Monster!König from @gremlinmodetweeker! he’s a big boy - also, one without the wings because his body is fren shaped, just a creature<3

[lemonmaid]

Monster AU 141!

Happy Halloween everyone!!!

Imagine where monster are the norm and being a human is the equivalent of the fucking boogie-man to them

You, belonging to one of the last few human race families. You are a monster's worst nightmare.

Humans have been slowly going extinct over the past few years, lucky the government acuallt cares about your species and decided to house you with a monster family that "has some human characteristics" to avoid extinction.

You get housed to a "loving" ex military monster polycule.

Succubus! Johnny who let's out a bloody scream when you knock on the door.

Werewolf! Simon who just teleports to the door to see what the panic is about.

Vampire! Kyle who rushes to hold off the hellhounds.

Dragon Hybrid! Price who is yelling at everyone to calm down.

Werewolf! Simon Who is glaring at Johnny for the ruckus, "overreacting" he grumbled.

Succubus! Johnny who stares at you from across the couch, shivering when your eyes meet his, mumbling something about "fleshbag".

Dragon Hybrid! Price who says he agreed to the homing agreement with Kyle. Saying something along the lines that it has its benefits. (Ruts, money, feedings-)

Vampire! Kyle who immediately warms up to, saying how you smell good! He would absolutely love a taste as soon as possible.

Werewolf! Simon who loves to walk with you on public. Bro laughs when a baby monster starts to cry at the sight of you. (I just think it would be funny to imagine a baby crypt in a dark stroller, with its tentacles moving around, holding multiple objects).

Dragon Hybrid! Price who holds you close when it's cold, mumbling how humans can't regulate their body temperature.

Succubus! Johnny who warms up to you after seeing you play with his hellhounds. Immediately seeing your appeal, thinking about the little fleshbags that could be crawling around in the home.

Werewolf! Simon who is constantly scenting you before you all go out to drink.

Vampire! Kyle who is dressing you up in clothing he has over the centuries, he think you look adorable in 1700s apparel

[princeguri66]

Insspired by @/bluegiragi's monster 141 au, the hc that Price has lived for centuries due to being a dragon hybrid (I'm not sure where it started but I got the idea from @/thegnomelord) , and this twt thread

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Knot Undone Spills Forth Tangled Possibilities

Very simple Monster Hybrid!König post today. I hope you enjoy, even if the post is very short!

TWs: mentioned sickness

Wordcount: 1.4k

Art from This Post

A Knot Undone Spills Forth Tangled Possibilities

Training with monster König did not go well. In fact, it went so far from well that you’d positively say it was horrible. You swore up and down as he chased you around the gymnasium, only stopping occasionally to loop through the rafters above like a big cat.

“König! Get down from there!” you yelled up overhead.

The monster only crawled around further, looking almost like a bat with how he used the talons on his big feathery wings to maneuver through the beams. His long furry tail trailed through a series of loops along the ceiling behind him.

“König!” you called again, your hazmat suit crinkling as you stomped your foot.

Finally, he snapped his head to look at you.

Even though you were his trainer, looking into the empty sockets of his eyes had chills crawling up your spine. He croaked out a small caw, then turned away to go back to playing with the metal beams in the ceiling.

You watched his massive body twist and turn as it wove amongst the beams above. On one hand, you were truly impressed that he was able to do it without getting stuck, but on the other hand you hadn’t even managed to get his control cage on his back before he had bounced away to do his own thing.

You muttered curses under your breath as you watched him playfully swing by his tail from side to side as he chirped happily.

“I need to clean you!” you whined.

König took a moment to stop swinging. He looked at the rake by your side, then at the massive sponge and bucket on the other. Without another word, he dropped down to the floor with a reverberating thud and scrambled to your side.

“Clean,” his voice sounded like a hoarse death rattle, “Clean!”

You sighed as you held up the rake, “If you stay still I can clean you.”

“Clean!” he parroted again before rolling onto his back and splaying out his tattered black wings, “Clean! Clean!”

You slowly trudged over to his side. You grimly noted that his feathers were rough and patchy and his black fur was tangled in thick knots. Evidently, he hadn’t been able to clean himself properly since his last trainer.

“Okay, so,” you sighed heavily, “you’ve got a lot of matts. I’m gonna need to go grab some scissors, okay?”

König whined and rolled on his back playfully.

“Just stay here,” you warned him before hurrying off to the handler equipment room.

You flicked on the lights and looked around the room haplessly. Evidently, whoever had been here before hadn’t had so much as a thought of consideration as they dumped everything into a mound. All the equipment had been haphazardly thrown around recklessly. To your horror, they’d completely jumbled all the organization of the room. What was normally a neat and tidy room had somehow turned into a muck room since you had gone to train König in the gym. How they’d manage to undo all the careful maintenance you and your cohorts had been practicing for ages was beyond you.

You scrambled to look through the ruins. You came across collars and chains and balls and more as you searched through the piles. You had the horrible feeling that you’d never find the trimmers. How could you when the room was like this? You worried that König would be off in the rafters again if you didn’t manage to find it soon.

Just as you were about to give up hope, you saw a glimmer of steel. You sighed in relief as you pushed a heating blanket aside to find the trimmers buried underneath. How you managed to find them was beyond you, a simple chance of fate, but you took it with both hands and lifted your hope and the trimmers from the pile.

You were used to making a mess by now, but something clattered to the floor when you brought the trimmers to your chest. You screwed your brows together and looked at the ground.

It was just a simple rope puzzle. It lay on the floor, tangled more than usual, but it was obviously meant for some of the more intelligent hybrids. It was just something to keep them busy. Something to keep them occupied.

Something to keep a hybrid like König occupied.

It clicked in your head. You no longer cursed whoever had wrecked the room before you. Instead, you’d bow and pray at their feet if they walked in that moment. Praise the bastard for giving you the answer to all your problems in the form of a simple puzzle.

You scurried out of the room with your new toy as quickly as you could, nearly forgetting the trimmer in your excitement.

When you made your way back to the gym, König was predictably up in the rafters again. 

“Hey!” you yelled as loudly as you could, “hey König!”

You heard a low rumble up from behind you.

You slowly turned and looked up to see König hanging upside down like a bat from the rafters, his head just a few feet above the door. You wondered how long he’d been hanging there, almost like some winged opossum.

“You!” you yelled and held up the trimmers, “come down here so I can clean you!”

König chuffed and crawled up his body to get back into the rafters. You huffed and puffed as he weaseled his way through the beams to get away from you.

“Hey!” you yelled at his retreating form, “wait, get back here!”

“No.”

You ignored the shivers up your spine when he spoke, a natural side effect of the nachtkrappe voice, and charged after him. You crashed across the runway, your hazmat suit crinkling like a paper bag with each and every single one of your movements. You could probably be heard from the other side of the gym at this rate. You shoved the thought aside and pushed forward.

“Hey you ugly mutt, get down here!” you howled as you scrambled after him.

“No!” König croaked back and swung from the rings hung from the ceiling. You couldn’t help but groan. Now that he found the rings there was no way he’d be coming down soon. Not unless…

“I have something for you!” you yelled as loudly as you could. Your lungs burned with the effort as you hung your other tools by your side.

König, to his credit, at least momentarily paused at your suggestion. However the flight rings proved to be too tempting and he was soon winding round and round the red and white plastic again.

“Come on!” you complained loudly, “we can do ringwork later, we need to clean you first!”

That got his attention, at least.

König lunged down directly at you. You squawked loudly as you threw yourself out of the way of his big grey talons. He thankfully didn’t baffle you with his wings and instead curled his long tail around your legs, tripping you in the process.

You pulled yourself to your feet and brushed yourself down. The rubber suit was thankfully durable enough to withstand a bit of wear and tear, but you still checked to make sure it was intact. You’d hate to get sick because of a small tear in the suit. Whatever nachtkrappe’s carried, you didn’t want to catch it.

“Okay, so,” you pulled yourself together, “I have an offer for you.”

“Offer, offer,” König parroted as he tilted his head back and forth, the fluorescent light glinting off his tusks and horns menacingly.

“So,” you held up the trimmers and he hissed, “stop that! Look, if you let me trim some of the matts, I’ll give you something fun.”

“Fun?” König thankfully perked up.

“Fun!” you repeated and held up the rope toy, “this is just a little rope puzzle. You think you can finish it before I finish trimming you?”

König snorted out a plume of putrid smoke, “Ja.”

“Ooo, confident!” you chuckled as stepped closer, “well, let’s see how well you do.”

You tossed him the rope. He struggled to catch it in his front claws on his wings, but he managed to carefully lace it through his fingers and settle on his front.

You flicked the trimmers open and sauntered over to him. You picked up the rake along the way with a smirk.

Finally, you had a way to make him sit still.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

58 / 2.2k / shapeshifter familiars 141 tormenting witch reader for Halloween c:

...

You hum a song to yourself as you pull herbs from your garden and pile them into the crook of your arm. The sun sets rosy this evening; the sky is clear and the moon will be new.

You turn to go in, brushing off your black skirts with your free hand. But a familiar face darken your doorway. Nobody was there a moment ago. Your serene face falls into a sour frown.

"Soap."

Soap gives you a cocky grin. He hasn't lost that insufferable arrogance. "Evenin', witch."

You approach him with your herbs in tow. "What sad state of affairs brings you to my doorstep?"

"Aw, no warm welcome for your favorite scoundrel?"

"I favor you more as a crow."

"Handsome in all my forms, then."

You stop in front of him. It's clear you're going to have to wait for him to move or else squeeze past him. You plant your feet and wait, squaring your sight with his. "Where are the other two?"

Soap plucks one of the flowering herbs with his fingers to inspect it, then twirls it between his fingers. "About somewhere, likely causing the usual mayhem. They'll be right on my heels."

Your frown deepens. This is the fourth impossible quest you've sent them on. And they keep coming back. "Did you fetch what I asked?"

Soap raises an eyebrow as he moves closer to you, his eyes fixed on yours. He raises the plucked flower to his lips. There's an edge of challenge in his voice as he answers. "We did indeed." He gently sets the flower back on top of the pile. The he pulls out a small vial and dangles it in front of you. "And a little extra somethin' for you."

You reach for the vial only for him to pull it back.

Soap's smirk widens. "Pay up first."

Cold irritation spikes through you. You know just how he'd prefer to be paid. You shoulder past him and into your cottage with a scowl.

Soap, of course, follows you in, saunters through your front door, and kicks it shut behind him. He's not the least bit deterred by your annoyance. In fact, he quite likes it. He runs his fingers along the various bottles and implements on the shelves with idle interest. "Oh, come now. You ought to be glad we're back."

You cast your herbs into a basket near the sink. Then you stand at your scrying table, flensing knife in hand, and carve a niche into your palm. The pain is nothing. Not even when you squeeze your hand into a fist to force more blood out. It drips into the wooden bowl underneath.

Payment is payment.

Soap's breath hitches. He's watching you with keen interest. He likes watching you work, your precise, calculated movements and your confident touch with the knife.

The sight of your fresh blood only makes his smirk wider. He takes a step closer behind you to get a better view. "There are easier ways to pay your dues," he says. His hands come around to rest on the countertop on either side of you. "More pleasurable ways. Other, ah, fluids with which to slake thirst."

"Keep your distance, shapeshifter," you tell him. "Or you get nothing."

Soap rests his chin on your shoulder. The touch is far too familiar. His fingers twitch with anticipation, as if the blood on your hand tempts him forward. He's always been a touch perverse, anyway, about you wounding yourself to feed him. This is all your fault isn't it? Sending them quest after impossible quest. They only demand payment because you insist upon such extremes, naively thinking it will kill them.

"You think you have enough blood for all of us? There's an easier way. Just think," Soap murmurs in your ear. "My lips on your neck. My fingers inside you."

His words sends heat unbidden into your core. Unnaturally so. Immediately, your eyes flash, and an unseen force pushes him away from you.

Soap stumbles backwards from you, his body slamming into the nearby shelf. His shoulders heave, and he breathes heavier. Still smirking, but also looking a little more interested.

You see it in his eyes, what he doesn't say or acknowledge: he likes when you push back. He craves it. He likes to see you assert yourself.

"No need to be so inhospitable." That insufferable grin, cocky and smug again. "Just thought you might want to save your bleeding for more important things."

You ignore this. He takes a seat in your chair, and you resume your work. Another cut. Something brushes at your ankles--something purring and black.

"Gaz."

He purrs, deceptively soft and sweet as he twines around your feet. More blood from your palm hits the bowl. Gaz's nose twitches. He turns his intense cat-gaze upward to watch you from the ground. You ignore it.

Gaz is a more patient man than Soap. He knows exactly what effect Soap's words had on you. He can smell your response on the air, and it entices him. But he knows not to press.

Still, after a stretch of silence watching your blood pool, Gaz grates out a low meow as a bid for your attention. Then he jumps up onto the counter and pushes his kitty face into the blood bowl.

Soap clicks his tongue. "Jealous."

You push Gaz away just as his whiskers start to tremble. "Stop that."

Gaz gives a dissatisfied meow. He sits back on his haunches. With a glare, he licks one of his paws in distaste for your scolding.

You deposit him on the floor. Then you get back to work. Quickly, as you hear the distant call of a screech owl. Gaz saunters away with a languid stretch of his back legs.

The owl's cry echoes again. Louder now. And in reply, a dog outside your window howls.

Your heart thumps. Faster, you bid yourself. You dig your fingertips into the gash in your palm just to draw out thicker clots. Faster. No, there's no time. Casting the flensing knife aside with a clatter, you take the bowl in your uninjured hand and turn, hurrying to stand in the doorway. Two of them inside is enough. You don't want any more in your home. No more. It's all you can do to protect your home from what you brought upon yourself.

The dog howls again. Right outside. Then there's the sound of animal shifting to man, and an enormous shadow darkens your doorway before you can reach it. Ghost. He fills the door frame, towering over you and blocking your path. He's so tall and broad that, deliberate or not, every move feels like a challenge to your authority over him. He's on your side, you remind yourself. His size makes him a formidable ally. And a devastating foe, when he wants to be. He's looking at you like he's contemplating being just that.

He doesn't need to announce why he's here, and he doesn't need to say anything else. He's come for payment just as Soap and Gaz have. He'll take it from you one way or another.

Ghost's expression remains inscrutable. But he burns with an emotion you sense and he carefully hides.

"What's the hurry?" The words are low and gravelly.

You stare up at him as you force your nerves to steady. "Must you transgress into my home?"

Ghost's broad shoulders bunch beneath his tattered cloak. His dark eyes take in the scene before him, the way Gaz and Soap make themselves too comfortable in your home. Then they flicker down to the blood. He doesn't have much patience for these games of push and pull. "You expect us to drink from a bowl? Like swine at a trough?"

You cock your head. "Shall I fetch you all soup spoons?"

Ghost's scowl deepens. "Smartass witch. Be grateful we've been lenient with you."

"Have you?"

It's either amusement or contempt that flashes across Ghost's face. You're not sure which. "Do you need me to demonstrate what it means to not be lenient?" He shifts his weight, his shadow stretching and darkening the room around him. "With your insults and feeble scraps?"

"Payment is payment. Whether or not the blood comes in a bowl shouldn't matter. The source is the same."

He doesn't appreciate mind games. And he definitely doesn't appreciate when you, his witch, are the one playing them. You shouldn't play with him when he's already on edge. "Spoken like a woman who's never known how to starve." He strides closer. The sound of the floor shifts under his weight. He only stops when he's close enough to make you feel like the walls are closing in on you. He reaches forward, and with his forefinger, wipes one of the droplets from the rim of the bowl. He brings it to his lips and licks it off his finger. "The blood doesn't matter."

"The blood doesn't matter?" you echo, doubtful. "That doesn’t seem to be the case."

Ghost's eyes flicker with something. Hunger. "No," he murmurs. "You could fill the bowl with anyone's blood. It's you that makes the difference. You spill it. You offer it. That vulnerability is… personal. Better than blood. Fresh. Warm. A piece of you."

He runs his finger along the edge of the bowl and leaves a wet streak along the rim. He's watching you watch him. "You and your foolish demands. Your workarounds. Blood in a bowl isn't real vulnerability."

He takes a step closer and towers over you. "You think we don't notice how you go out of your way to make it as impersonal as possible? You're meant to give us something we want for our services. You'd be better off bleeding someone else dry and offering that up." He leans in closer and runs his gaze over you with a subtle tilt of his head. "But you would never try that, would you?"

"I told you I won't hurt other people for you. The contract is with me and me only."

Foolish promises. "That doesn't mean you get to cheat us."

You offer the bowl with more force. "Drink."

His annoyance flares. Your stubbornness, your arrogance--qualities that both make you a desirable object of focus and chip away at the shapeshifters' patience.

But they’ll be able to teach you a lesson for it sooner or later.

Ghost reaches forward, grabs your wrist, and raises the bowl to his lips. He looks you dead in the eye as he drinks.

Soap is at his side instantly. His pale eyes fix on the bowl.

You hear Gaz shift from feline to human behind you. He draws up until you feel his body heat.

"Now isn't that much nicer?" Gaz says, his voice just as cocky and insufferable as ever. "Nothing wrong with making it personal once in a while. No need to be so stingy."

You watch Ghost, eyes still locked on you, as he swipes his sleeve across his mouth and hands Soap the bowl without looking.

Soap gulps down two mouthfuls with an orgasmic growl.

Gaz chuckles as he brings it to his lips, drinking until it's empty. Then he lets the wooden bowl clatter to the floor. His mouth twitches up into a lazy smirk.

You pull your wrist free from Ghost’s grasp. "You got what you needed. Give me what you brought me and get out."

"Oh, don't be like that," Soap purrs as he prowls towards you. "You enjoy our company."

"Such poor manners," Gaz says mildly. "Seems we've still got to teach you what your responsibilities are. Price won't like hearing that."

You slow, lowering the bloodied bowl into your washbasin. "Price won't come. It's not time yet."

Ghost scoffs. "Price will do whatever he damn well pleases." He prowls closer as well, the predatory sound in his voice more obvious now, like a beast preparing to sink his teeth in. "And he won't like hearing how his second-favorite witch is a lousy hostess."

"He's not coming," you snap. A tinge of fear crawls up your spine.

"Price comes when he wants," Ghost snarls. "You should remember that before you act so foolish."

You hear the screech owl again. Closer this time. The bowl clangs against the bottom of the basin and dread churns deep in your gut.

"Do you hear that?" Gaz asks softly.

"You drank all the blood," you mutter. "You didn't leave any for him. This is your fault."

Soap smiles, but he’s not meeting your eyes. "We left him plenty."

You're helpless to do anything but watch as the sound of beating wings turns to boots falling on the undergrowth outside your open door.

He stands tall, his form blocking the moonlight and shadowing the already dim room. His dark eyes land on you, and he takes in your blood-stained hand and bloodied bowl with a hard frown. What a mess you've made.

"Witch."

He crosses the room to you and takes your jaw in his rough hand. His gaze drives ice into the blood still roaring hot through your veins.

"We're going to have a chat."

...

more Soap / more Gaz / more Ghost / more Price / masterlist

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: smut, mdni, monsterfucking

Even though underbed monster! Simon is a brat and very often a nuisance, he still cares about you!! You are his favourite hooman after all, his feeder, gladly allowing him to nourish off your energy, giving him small treats and indulging in all his little whims. So of course Ghost is worried when you come back home after having an especially bad day, all hot and bothered, chucking down a few glasses of whiskey to ease your mind - but it didn’t seem to help much. Ghost feels the need to soothe you, to make you forget all the bad events of the day, empty your head of all the thoughts and worries, to make you feel good and loved!

That’s why your not so little monster urges you to take off your clothes, his tentacles spreading your thighs open, exposing your gorgeous pussy to his crimson eyes. One tiny tentacle wraps itself around the needy bud of your clit, rubbing it softly yet firmly, causing wetness to drip down the cleft of your ass in a matter of minutes. Simon makes sure to hit and nudge all of the special spots within your soft cunny as he stuffs you full of himself, making you squeal and writhe in pure pleasure under him, your eyes rolling back and toes curling as you cum repeatedly.

And only after turning you into a sobbing boneless mess, all fucked out and happy, does your underbed monster ease three of his tentacles out of your sore and raw pussy, wrapping himself around your still trembling form and purring satisfyingly somewhere in your neck, clinging to you for some warmth.

Underbed monster! Simon likes you very much after all, so he does everything in his power to keep his favourite hooman happy<3

Requests are open<3 Feedback is very appreciated, give writers some love🩷

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader

You were not expecting anything from this new placement. You knew better now a days, have been on the system since day 1, and at this point? You know better than to hope.

Usually the houses you ended up in were all mediocre at best. Foster parents that already had their own children were the most neglectful homes, even to their own children. Which also resulted in bad blood between the foster kids and the biological kids.

And worst of all, you were human. Just a simple, small, defenseless human stuck in the foster system. Usually, they try to match human kids with human foster parents. But, humans were not a big part of the population, in fact, different kind of hybrids were the biggest part of the population.

And now, failed attempts after failed attempts, you got transfered to a neighbor city (not for the first time), and this time, to a hybrid pack househood. It wasn't your first time with hybrids, but it was always a little scary. They were strangers, and adult hybrids were SO much bigger than humans. Especially a human your age, with your small size thanks to lack of care throughout the years.

Hybrids were bigger, stronger, scarier... still, you knew it couldn't be worse than some houses you have been in before, or at least, that's what you're telling yourself. Not that your social worker was helping with your anxiety, as the old bear hybrid woman gave you some information about your new foster family. They were a big pack, which was a concept you already had difficulty to grasp. Pack doesn't always mean the nuclear family, but could also mean family friends, or sometimes, just relatives. As a human, hearing the word "pack", or "hoard", or "coven", or whatever else they could use to name their little groups, always left you a little confused.

They were four hybrid parents, a Dragon, a Werewolf, a Harpy and a Wraith. They were all part of the military, special forces or something, and they had a lot of children already, children that were already adults and had moved out some time ago. They were taking fosters now, and accordingly to your social worker, they were delightful and very nurturing parents.

You don't know what to think of that.

So all you could do was hold tightly to your beated backpack straps as your social worker excitedly introduced you to four hybrid men in their big house, giant hybrid men with so many muscles, and why is everyone so big and buff?? You knew they were military before, but god dammit, they could crush you with one hand. Here to hoping you don't annoy them to that point.

You weren't really making eye contact, keeping your eyes to the ground as you heard your social worker talk to the new fosters, but still, you would peak at them every couple of seconds or so, just to assess how they were reacting to your presence.

The dragon, one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen, had that kinda of... respectful and mature face, smart eyes that went between you and the social worker as he nodded along to what she was saying. He was standing still, arms crossed lightly, and just one big wing carefully drapped behind his back. He smiled lightly, trying to keep casual and confortable to the new people, avoiding staring at you too much, no matter how much he wanted to.

The harpy, that was standing by the dragon's side, had such a gentle smile on his face that you avoided looking at his face again after the first peak. Gentle eyes, gentle smile, gentle demeanour. His giant, featherly wings, were also carefully tucked behind his back, almost as if to make himself smaller. Tho, it didn't help your anxiety as you saw how his feet looked like... not feet, in fact, talons.

The werewolf, a weird guy with a mohawk for christ sake, didn't even try to hide it how much he was staring. Big eyes on top of you, tail wagging a bit too fast behind him as his wolf ears perked up and moved as the social worker talked. Still, his eyes were just on you, assessing your small and timid demeanour, how truly small a human could be, how defenseless you looked.

The wraith wasn't that different either. Staring at your face with a stoic and passive look, even tho a balaclava with some skull prints covered most of his face besides the eyes, that had some... shadowy thing around them. He was the biggest, looked bigger and buffer than the dragon, at least, and was also staring directly at you. He almost forgot how pathetic humans could be.

All of them were caught a little of guard, actually.

You were small, already small for a human, but for hybrids? Almost like a little kid. Humans rarely build much muscle throughout their teens too, so you looked like a skinny little thing, differently from how other races' kids worked. You looked like a small, young child, but even their little kids had some kind of protection. Sharp teeths, or shap claws, or sharp talons, or any kind of ability that could defend themselves.

You had nothing of the sort. You didn't have any nails, basically, short as they were in a small and delicate little hand. Feet tucked safely inside your round little sneakers, feet that, of course, wouldn't have any talons, and were delicate enough to have to stay protected by shoes. Your teeth were round and flat, looked so small too, just like your short tongue. You were soft, all soft and small and delicate. Just like a human is compared to hybrids.

Johnny had to control himself not to coo at the sight as you gently licked your uper lip and quietly fidget in place, slightly behind the big bear hybrid that was your social worker. They had a lot of kids, and he was there since all of them were a baby, but since they were all hybrids, seeing a small little thing like you, unprotected and without any kind of abilities... it made something stirr inside of him.

All of the others were in the same boat, to be fair. Parental instincts going into high overdrive just by looking at you. John was just trying his best to pretend he wasn't that effected since he still needed to pay attention to the social worker, and Kyle was making a good job of discreetly nudging Johnny and Simon so they could stop staring so hard at you.

"So, if any trouble arises, you can always call me. Even if it's just questions, anything you might be worried about, i'll help you out. Is that okay?" "Perfectly fine, ma'am." The dragon immediatly answers, smiling neutrally as he nods.

"Yeah, this isn't our first time doing this." The harpy jokes slightly, charming smile on his face as he makes your social worker laugh a little bit with him.

"I know it isn't, boys, but it is your first time taking care of a human." She points out, a small smile on her face despite the serious tone. "They are not the same as hybrids, you know that."

"Of course. We're going to be very careful with them, don't worry." The dragon immediatly goes to sooth her worries, nodding easily.

"As i hope. Please, call me if you need anything! And, good luck, boys!"

Now, it's just you and your four new foster parents.

[anim-ttrpgs]

(Exerpt from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.)