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#i love cannibalism i love eating human flesh
ariapmdeol · 5 months
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hello! can you expand on what you mean by "pro cannibalism"? I know it seems obvious but I struggle sometimes, so I wanna make sure I understand what you mean
it's because i love cannibalism 🫶 it's my birthday i think i should get a little human flesh as a treat
more seriously: it's a joke referencing a previous anon who called me a 'pro cannibalism individual'. I thought it was funny so i embraced the title SADKJLJDLASK
the more detailed context is I like a lot of media with cannibalism in it, and make a lot of jokes about it! i am The Cannibalism Mutual ^_^
I think it's peak romance 💖 Peak symbolism 💖 incredibly funny 💖 a delightful little snack 💖 fellas is it gay as a man to eat another man (yes) 💖 i love eating human flesh 💖 this is yaoiyuri. to me 💖
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star-girlfriend · 27 days
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i want you to eat me, maren, bones and all
luca guadagnino bones and all // chelsea g summers (vogue) how cannibalism took over culture // blythe baird if my body could speak //yves olade beloved // unknown // jeff buckley // luca guadagnino bones and all // leith ross we’ll never have sex // artuad the jet of blood
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lilbiscuitboy · 4 months
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a little vince doodle i did while i was listening to the apples in stereo
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bleepblopbloop56 · 10 months
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Like its an apocalypse what are they eating after the krang kills everything, i need to know! Aditional question Is eating yokai different from eating humans morally speaking? Has he eaten that? Do they scavenge their fallen soldiers for things like mechanical limbs or firearm? Do the krang even leave a body behind for long enough TO eat? Is it dangerous to eat them? Do you think they could eat krang?
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“Cannibalism is about love. No need to elaborate.”
Actually, murder is about love. I’m gonna beat you to death <3
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cosmictheo · 21 days
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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha
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( gif credits to @wondrousashes )
—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 4k —warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
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The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.
But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.
“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.
“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”
“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.
You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.
Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.
Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.
For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.
You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.
The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.
Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.
“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.
After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”
His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.
It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.
“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.
“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.
The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.
“Have you been with someone else like this?”
There was another one of your little questions again.
And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.
But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.
“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.
His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.
But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.
Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.
“Have you been with other women?”
Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.
“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”
And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.
“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.
And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.”
His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”
“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”
“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”
You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.
“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”
An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.
“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”
You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.
“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”
He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.
“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”
His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.
Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.
“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”
He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.
But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”
His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”
He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.
It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.
He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.
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By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.
He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.
“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”
You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”
He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.
“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”
Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.
“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”
You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.
It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.
“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.
“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”
“My lord—”
“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.
“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”
“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”
You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.
“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”
“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.
His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.
“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.
You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.
Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.
He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.
“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.
That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.
You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.
His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.
His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.
Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.
“I'm trying to be good...”
“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”
Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.
He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.
Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.
And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.
Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.
When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.
“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.
You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.
With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.
“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.
No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.
Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”
His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.
“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”
Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.
“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”
He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.
Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.
“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.
“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”
You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”
Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.
“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.
“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”
Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.
“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.
His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.
That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.
And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.
But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.
Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months
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I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.
Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.
@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!
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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3
The screams are the worst part.
They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.
Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...
And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.
Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.
Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.
You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.
Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 
And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.
Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.
The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.
There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.
So, Theseus is dead...
So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.
Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.
You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.
You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)
And your luck is cursed.
The beast shifts. 
You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.
“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 
“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”
He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.
Don’t blow out the candle... 
If you blow it out, you’ll die.
It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 
So you still your breath and wait.
Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 
And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 
The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 
The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.
“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 
His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.
The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 
He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…
“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.
And you believe every word he says.
Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.
A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.
Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?
Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.
“I know.”  
Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.
But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 
Why would you say that? 
Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?
The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.
There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 
There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 
“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.
“...What?”
The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 
“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”
His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.
He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.
“You think talking will save you, female?”
He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.
But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.
“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”
“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.
And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 
Why would anyone want to stay here?
You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 
Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…
“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”
You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 
“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”
It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.
And the beast accepts. 
“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 
Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.
But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 
“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.
“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”
He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.
Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?
“You’ll lead me to my father.” 
His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.
And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 
“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”
You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 
Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 
The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.
And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 
Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.
He also wants to touch you.
A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.
He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 
You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 
Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?
“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 
Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 
“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”
He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 
Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 
“Priestess…?” He rasps.
“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”
He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.
“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”
He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 
He wants you to guide him to his father. 
To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.
The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.
“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”
“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”
You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 
“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”
It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.
If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 
“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”
His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 
The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.
“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.
The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.
“Sound like a virgin…”
Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.
“Feel like a virgin, too.”
It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 
No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.
But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 
How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 
You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.
And you’ve gone mad, surely. 
You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 
Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.
He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 
And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 
Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 
If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...
In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 
“So do you, Bull of Crete...”
His gaze flickers.
The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.
It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.
He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…
“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”
You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.
“You must promise to be kind to me.”
“Kind...?”
“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”
Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.
“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 
Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.
“I don’t–How would you know that…?”
The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.
“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to…”
He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.
You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 
“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”
The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.
Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...
And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.
“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.
“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 
You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.
You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.
“Lead the way, maiden.”
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imblocking-you · 1 year
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Watching warm bodies. He's just like me fr lmao
#im a minute in and im realising this is probably an hour long metaphor of us as a society the nature of communication and probably how work#life turns us into corpses idl#idk*#the transitions are fun#its cool that this isnt a horror approach ive been looking for romcoms like these#its really giving 2012-2017 movie era love it#this is kinda sad living in your body full consciousness no memory no form to connect to another just as sentient being knowing yohr demise#kinda scary too as a living person half of humanity reduced to this state but they can still somewhat think they can open doors feel+#emotion but they have a thirst for your flesh and lose all rationality once in vicinity of you#damn#all the trinkets in the plane :(((#simultaneously funny and sad grunting scene#one question: where are the scientists#8 years man the system mustve been real faulty no way they havent captured at least one zombie#found out they can think and did their magic#like?? resources aren't forever ur city is deteriorating day by day#also i just imagined his gf or his parents slowly losing hope for his return or even his slim chances of being out there surviving#i am reminded of the quote i wrote about cannibalism#the distinctions are kinda messy if they eat humans then it implies they mustve been eaten too#but why not completely they dont look battered#is there a process? have they only been bitten#does a zombie only need to bite a few bites to be satiated? do they feed on one and completely tire of it after? they don't come back to it#for a second bite?#curious#she was so hot in her first scene#ahhh the brain part explains it#AH THIS PART MAKES ME SENTI#someone play scott street#ive come full circle with my cannibalism quote fr#this can turn to angst realll quick so much potential
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bvnnywrites · 7 months
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Still Waters Run Deep
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Chapter 2: Überprüfen
PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU
WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking
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THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.
But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.
König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.
No.
No.
Who the hell was he kidding?
He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.
König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.
And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.
He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.
König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.
All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.
He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.
But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.
He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use,  and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.
The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.
König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.
He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.
König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.
By God König wanted you more than anything.
He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.
 Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.
König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.
But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.
He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…
But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.
Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.
König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.
He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.
Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.
He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.
“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”
König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.
“Colonel, are you there?”
Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.
“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”
Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.
He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.
Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?
Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–
“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”
You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.
“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”
He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.
“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”
“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”
He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.
But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?
“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.
“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”
He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.
Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.
“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”
Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.
“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”
“König.”
“What?”
“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”
“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”
“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”
Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?
Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.
You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.
König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.
He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture
“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”
“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”
His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?
Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.
So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.
König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.
“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”
“Alright, co–König. Good night.”
As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.
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“Did something good happen today, colonel?”
“None of your concern, major.”
Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.
But Horangi was right.
Something good did happened.
You happened.
“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”
He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.
And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.
“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”
“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”
“She can handle herself.”
“And what of the monster on the loose?”
“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”
“… Perhaps.”
König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.
The problem was that he knows he can have you.
Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.
He knows that he can have you.
And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want  something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.
“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.
“Not yet.” König answered.
That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.
Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.
He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.
He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.
He needs you under him–
“Colonel?”
König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.
“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”
“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”
“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”
You can sit on his lap.
You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.
To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.
“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.
“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”
Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.
He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.
König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even,  while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.
He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.
The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.
“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.
“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.
He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.
“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”
 And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”
Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.
“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.
You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.
Well… there is König.
“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.
The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.
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Tags: @itsbellaham,leslie-lemon,tapioca-marzipan,starcrossed02,manjiroxs,mr-sol,euuuuuuun,sleepyoriana,urmom-77,marriedtoeddie,sylviatherosairy,breannab2018,asmicity-writes,slutforelliewilliamss,3-kai-3,notsamaira,kenz-ee
P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^
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Just a silly question but how will cotton react when he saw or knew that y/n REALLY love to eat rabbits and have a weird obsession for eating them? Like. Is he gonna be terrified or he gonna be like "stay away from my child but I still love U tho"
-(I wanna be the 🦖 anon please and yes the ask earlier where I quack was me too )
Cotton x carnivore!darling
Tw: minor body horror, cannibalism, reader can be another hybrid or human, cotton being cotton, blood mentioned. Not proofread 🌺
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🔪he knew there was something wrong with you. From the moment you took him in and nursed him to health. To the way your hands glided over his abdomen and raked down his thighs. Your eyes staring hungrily at his throat. He saw the red flags, but he ignored them, because you made him feel something he thought he hated. Fear. Adrenaline.
🔪when you reluctantly let him go, he begged to stay. He knew he wasn't much of a meal but won't you give him a chance? He'll gladly let you tear open his chest and claw out his intestines. How would you eat him? Raw and fresh? Or cooked and seasoned? The thought excited him beyond belief!
🔪when you had your first litter of children, he quite literally had to pry them from your hold. He loved you but he couldn't risk you eating your newborns. So for the first few months he raised them himself from a distance. The only way he'd let you near them would be if he was close by and had a sedative in hand.
🔪 while quickly becoming a prisoner in your own home, Your shorter than average husband was constantly breathing down your neck, his gaze never leaving your form. And with the help of your offspring, life got even more suffocating. You loved your children, you really did. But you could never really get rid of that little itch in your mouth begging to sink into some meat. When was the last time you had it? You were starving.. you didn't want to eat vegetables anymore..
🔪one night you went missing. How the hell did you break out of the chains he found. He felt his heart stop and scrambled out of your bed. Ears moving around to try and catch any noise. Quickly rushing to the children's rooms, he relaxed in seeing them all safe and sound. Until he heard something from outside. Grabbing the dart gun from his bedside, he stepped out slowly. Following the smell of blood and cracking of what sounded like bones. Going Deeper into the forest...
🔪and there you were. Crouched over the bodies of what seemed like a deer hybrid family. You didn't seem to notice him, happily chewing and tearing at the flesh underneath you. Blood spewing out onto the dirt floor, he swore he could see a little twitch from the mother's hand. Their bones bent in unnatural places and the gashes on their bodies lethal. He slowly approached, standing over you
"there you are.. where have you gone..? you had me so worried honey..."
🔪 you simply stared up at him, licking your bloody lips and dropping the arm you were chewing on. He could feel himself get hard at the sight. Weirdo. Ignoring the corpses next to him, he set down his gun and kissed you softly. Wiping the rest of the blood off you with his shirt. He learns quickly that once you've eaten meat, you don't need to eat it for a good while. Expect him to hunt down his fellow hybrids for you in the near future. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he kept neglecting your needs?
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aphroditelovesu · 3 months
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Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)
''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.
❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.
❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.
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Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values ​​and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.
He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.
Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.
You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.
When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.
You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.
Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.
He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.
If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of ​​someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.
Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.
He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.
Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.
He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.
Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.
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katakaluptastrophy · 30 days
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You know when you're at a dinner party with God and things start to get...weird...? It's Maundy Thursday, and it's time for more Bible study for fans of weird queer necromancers!
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It's currently Holy Week, the week where liturgical Christians reenact the events of Jesus' death and resurrection in real time. And today, it's Maundy Thursday, which commemorates the Last Supper, where Jesus ate with his friends before he was crucified.
Before we get to the Locked Tomb, what's so special about the Last Supper?
There are actually a few significant things that happen during the Last Supper, but this is where Jesus introduces the concept of communion:
Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood. - Matthew 26:26-28
This isn't actually the first time Jesus has told his followers they will need to literally eat him:
So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. - John 6:53-56
If you're thinking that sounds a bit intense, you're not alone - the Bible says that "many" of his disciples left after being told that they were apparently going to have to eat Jesus to be saved and resurrected.
While many Protestant denominations take this symbolically, Catholicism teaches transubstantiation: that when the priest prays over the bread and wine at mass, they really do become Jesus' body and blood.
With this in mind, let's circle back to necromancers:
"Overseas to Corpus. (She likes the word corpus; it sounds nice and fat.)"
This is probably Corpus Christi College, Oxford (named after the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, where the church celebrates the real presence of Jesus in the eucharist). The symbol of the college is a pelican - there's even a fabulously gilded pelican atop the sundial in their main quad.
What do pelicans have to do with the eucharist? Quite a lot, actually... The pelican is a really old symbol for Jesus, because it was believed to feed its young on its own flesh and blood in times of famine. The pelican on the Corpus Christi sundial is pecking at its own chest.
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The pelican, like Jesus, was believed to give its own body to save those it loved.
Okay, so we've talked about Jesus, and weird cannibal birds, but why is this relevant to necromancers?
Specifically, the necromancer, the Necrolord Prime. John Gaius styles himself as "the god who became man", echoing Jesus as "the word became flesh". His entire pastiche of divinity is a sort of bootleg Catholicism. But while Catholicism posits Jesus' offering of his own body as foundational to the salvation and resurrection of humanity to eternal life, John's godhood relies the exploitation of other's bodies as the foundation of an empire of eternal death.
I've mentioned before in discussing Lyctorhood, how vampires have been understood to represent a sort of inversion of the eucharist because instead of consuming Christ's blood to receive eternal life in heaven, they consume other people's blood for an cursed eternal life on earth. John, and the Lyctors who followed him, gained power and eternal life from the consumption, body and soul, of another person.
In Catholic theology, Jesus offered his own body to degradation and death for the eternal salvation of humankind, but John forcibly consumes someone else's in service of his own apotheosis and immortality, dooming humanity in the process. He wants to be a Catholic flavoured god, but without the suffering that entails. But he's perfectly willing to outsource that suffering to others.
There's something just achingly awful about Alecto liking the feel of the word "corpus" - "body" - when she so hates the body that John constructed for her. John describing Alecto as "in a very real way" the mother of humanity and the mother pelican on the Corpus sundial rending her own flesh for her children. John forcing the earth into a personification of femininity and playing Jesus on another's sacrifice. His daughter, unwillingly trapped in her own corpse walking around with the wounds of her significant self-sacrifice like the resurrected Christ but yet again another body exploited by John in support of his performance of godhood. It brings to mind a very different fantastical engagement with Catholicism, where in the Lord of the Rings Tolkien - riffing on St Augustine - suggested that evil cannot create, it can only mock and corrupt. The ethics of The Locked Tomb may be messier than that, but there's something indicative in how John shies away from his creative powers - his abilities to grow plants, and manipulate earth and water - in favour of his dominion over death.
The metaphysical world of The Locked Tomb is clearly not intended to be the same as that of Catholicism. But with hindsight, perhaps John was onto something when he was surprised that he didn't "get the Antichrist bit" from the nun too.
John isn't the Antichrist. But he is, thematically, anti-Christ.
If we're talking about John and Jesus, there's also, of course, the question of Resurrection. But we've got to go through Hell and back before we get there on Sunday...
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Daddy’s Little Monster
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•Alastor x teen! daughter! reader
•Platonic, you sickos
•What if… Alastor had a daughter who wanted to be a serial killer too?
You woke up to a red sky. There was a great pain in your head, and your vision was blurry. Once you were fully oriented, you stood up. What was this place? It was like prison, and god, it smelled awful. When you looked up at the pentagram over the sky, it dawned on you. You had died. You were in hell.
It was no surprise why you were in hell. You weren’t the best human. You indulged in a bit of cannibalism, and wanted to be an assassin when you were older. Older. That was something you’ll never be. You were just 13, thirteen and dead. However, how you died was a mystery. You had no memory of how you died.
Could it be you were murdered? No, you hadn’t made many enemies. Maybe fell from somewhere high? No, you were too scared of heights to be anywhere high. Hit by a car? You were always careless crossing the street. Yes, that had to be it.
You looked down at your new form. You had bright blue skin, and dark blue hair(She kinda looks like Ruby Gillman). The hair in your pigtails was now in thick, tentacle, like strands. Your ears were similar to fins, and your limbs were long and stretchy. You were some sort of kraken.
It made sense you were a sea creature though. You had always found yourself fascinated with the sea and the animals that inhabit that. You wished that one day you would be able to dive in there, and never have to return to the surface. You had longed to be down there with the fish and the animals. It felt like home more than the surface ever did.
You felt…at peace in hell, like you wanted to stay here. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges, but it felt like home. But your friends…everyone you left behind. Wouldn’t they miss you? For a moment in time, you wanted to go back. Go back to tell your best friend you loved her one last time. You felt her pain and her tears, and it broke your heart. But you can’t change the past. All you can do is love her and remember.
You decide to walk around your new environment. The buildings look old and run down, and people are fighting. You pass a porn studio, and laugh to yourself. Hell seemed like the kind of place where a giant porn studio would be a normal occurrence. Something catches your eye. A vending machine for drugs. You think about it for a second, but decide not to get anything.
You walk near a place called Cannibal Town, and saw some demons eating a guy. You wanted to join in, the taste of human flesh lingering in your brain, fueling your desires. In front of you was a singing demon, with a resemblance to a porcelain doll. She seemed to improv her whole song, and it amazed you. You loved to sing, and was impressed by her skills. You wanted to tell her, but you would feel bad for interrupting her song.
After exploring hell, you found a street corner to cozy up in. As your first day in hell concluded, you thought to yourself ‘is eternal damnation as bad as I thought?’
______________________________________
•Hi! My names Vicky, I’m a sucker for platonic au’s. My head cannons take a while, but if my requests are open, I might make your idea for a fanfic, so be sure to ask.
•This was fun to write and it is not done. I’m just tired.
•Part 2 •Part 3 •Part 4 •Part 5
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cautuscoralcoast · 2 months
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The Flesh, Blood, Bone, Heart and Soul : There once was a knight who wished to be the wicked dragon
Laios Touden x Monster! reader
Synopsis - In which the lion tempts Laios into giving into his darkest, false desires. You are none the wiser as you laid on the dinner table in a daze—as the apple, the lion tempts Laios to take a bite.
Word Count: 7k.
Tw. Mentions of cannibalism, minor suggestive sexual themes (dubcon), descriptive imagery of eating the reader, lots of blood, major depictions of violence, spoilers for the manga (especially the ending), viewer's discretion is advised
Prev.
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The lion has plans for the both of you: Gluttony.
You, who refused to reside in lavish and were repulsed by the sight and taste of flesh.
Laios, who fed into his greed to consume the flesh of monsters for his own satisfaction.
He who couldn't understand the most basics of non-verbal communication; You communicating through the language barrier with the mermaids, often with just non-verbal communication.
You were far from human, and you possessed more humanity than most sinful humans—that's why the lion couldn't call you perfect: Simply just a mockery
What the lion wants is to consume Laios' desires. For Laios, his desires were so potent and much more unique than any other person to have entered the dungeon that the lion just wanted to see that desire bear fruit. It would be something magnificent, so savory, and rejuvenating: The lion wanted it.
And you were part of that.
Canaries, that boy from Utaya, and Yaad, they all posed a threat to his plans.
If the lion could get you to follow along, then perhaps things could flow much better. You and Laios could vow to stay together, and in doing so, the demon gets what it wants.
The only thing is, you were far from human. A monster by nature and an abomination by creation. Though, that never stopped Laios.
The problem was that you wanted nothing more but cry in your own lamentations.
Lonely and devastated from facing your cruel reality, you asked, "Why have you forsaken me with sentience?"
"You desired to desire, and so I granted your wish. Are you not satisfied?"
"I never desired to desire. I had no thought, no mind, no heart or soul: I was epidermis, mesoglea, and gastrodermis. No blood, no bones, no flesh—I was a plant once. Then I flowered into a jellyfish. Jellyfish don't have souls to want. What am I?"
"What you are is something far from logic."
"What am I?"
"You are a jellyfish who became the monstrous sea leviathan of the dungeon."
"What am I?"
"You are the one who is blessed with the water's loving embrace."
"What am I?"
"You are the monarch of mermaids."
"What am I?"
"You are (y/n)."
"What am I?"
"You are my child."
"What am I?"
"I am unable to answer that."
"What am I?"
𓆞𓆝 𓆟
Laios didn't know what to think of you at first.
He was excited at the prospect of discovering a new monster; But alas, that was all he thought of you: A Monster. Just another monster that tried to kill him, and another monster he ate the flesh of. There was nothing more to it.
But then it saved him.
"My name is (y/n), I am the monarch of the mermaids and arbitor of the dungeon's waters. Just who might you be?"
A monster capable of communicating and is able to distinguish itself from others. A sapient monster that is able to communicate with those like him, but the fact that it's in the dungeon is evidence that it is a monster.
Yet, when Laios kept prodding at its body and tampering with its tentacles, the monster never once grew angered by his actions. Even when he supposedly did something horrible to mermaids, the monster still remained patient with him. When Laios told it that it ate its flesh, the monster, instead of becoming enraged, it stayed indifferent about the situation. The monster never tried to harm him.
Rather, it helped him find his friends. When the monster proposed to bring him underwater, he wasn't sure if it were a trap: If this monster was a succubus, a manifestation of his desires. However, the monster did not lie.
When Laios told the monster about the boundless oceans and seas, the look in its eyes was so normal. This monster was able to see right through his soul. It knew how to respond and what to say to keep him calm. It was far more human than he ever could.
It was an odd thought. A monster was more understanding of emotion and feelings while he, a human, struggles with even the most basic forms of communication.
Now that they part, Laios couldn't help but turn around one last time, and he saw the melancholic monarch.
"I promise."
They would never be human like he was. They were far too monstrous to be an elf or a dwarf. But somehow, they were so alive.
Laios doesn't regret eating their tentacles. It was something he ate before meeting the lovely monarch. He can't blame himself for doing so, and likewise, he doesn't blame you for almost drowning him. So they're even in horrible things done to each other.
"LAIOS!"
"It wasn't a monster."
It was a statement he said that even he was in disbelief. You were a monster, and yet you understood more than he ever could. Laios couldn't see your discomfort when he prodded at you or when he told you that he ate your flesh. Yet, you were able to realize the faintest sign of doubt and understanding of his thoughts.
You were definitely a monster.
"Did you know that mermaids can and will have a monarchy if a leader is seen as capable? Mermaids tend to travel in small groups, but the monster we saw was the monarch of the mermaids. It isn't just a few—it's all the mermaids in the dungeon! There also were so many species that were thought to have gone extinct in the dungeon water! They glow in the dark! This monster is named (y/n), and it was able to cast a spell of some sort to allow me to breathe underwater, and that's how I'm here. I made a page here in my book! With the bottom of jellyfish and the top of 'mermaid', they're able to hold a conversation with me! This means that there are monsters that can think like tall-men, elves, dwarves, and those alike!."
Senshi was too busy cooking, and Marcille and Chilchuck stopped listening at the "glow in the dark" part to stare at Laios as if he had gone mad.
"You get taken by mermaids, and you're happy!?!" Chilchuck grabbed the book and looked at the sketch. "Isn't this the monster that tried to kill you the other day?"
"Not trying to kill me!" Laios looked rather proud at the statement. "It didn't say why it picked me up, but it—they apologized for scaring us."
Marcille gripped her staff tightly as she opened her mouth to say something but stopped. She sighed and said, "As long as you're alive, it's alright, I guess. There's no saving Falin if you're gone."
"Oh–yeah."
"You didn't forget, did you?"
"First, you say you're glad, and now this? I can't believe you, Laios."
Senshi just shook his head in disappointment.
"I—I didn't mean it like that!"
𓆞𓆝 𓆟
Laios is Laios. Falin is Falin. Marcille is Marcille. Chilchuck is Chilchuck. Senshi is Senshi. Izutsumi is Izutsumi.
They all were so similar despite their different backgrounds and race. Even then, among family and those of the same race, they were very different. With hobbies, interests, dislikes, stories, and soul is what made them, them.
So what about monsters?
They all were of the same species with the same instincts and appearance. There were little differences, and there was little true free will for them to differentiate themselves from each other.
So where did you stand?
To Laios, the answer was clear.
You were you.
You were a monster, yet you were far from one. You weren't a species similar to the eight he was familiar with, yet you were more sensible than he ever could be. You were a jellyfish, yet the only thing that resembled one were your tentacles. You weren't a mermaid, yet you shared many similarities.
It's these distinctions that made you: you.
There was nothing more enchanting than you. With the tentacles of a jellyfish, ears of a sea serpent, the appearance of a mermaid, you were truly something magnificent.
Laios wanted to become dungeon master in order to make a world safe for you and monsters alike: that was his wish. For Falin and the others to meet you and recognize your beauty the same way he did.
Desperate to save his sister from her monstrous state and his desire to live alongside monsters, he ignored the dangers of temptation the lion gave.
It was only Marcille, out of desperation, made a deal with the winged lion and became lord of dungeon, did Laios truly grasp the meaning of "dungeon master."
Nothing but a trap and prey for the lion go devour.
There was no love greater than what the demon could provide.
The winged lion was creature capable of drawing out the purest of desire: Raw instinct and pure desire as its core.
"Make me lord of the dungeon!"
To save Marcille and everyone else—to defeat the demon, Laios saw no other choice but fall into temptation.
"What a splendid person you have become; However, deep down inside, you haven't changed in the slightest. You are sick and tired of the human world."
As if in a trance, Laios found it difficult to find words to refute the demons claim. Feeling paranoid and agitated, Laios had no idea what to say. That confidence and sense of safety dissipated the moment the lion placed a finger on his chest. As if unraveling open his heart, the lion continued.
"So long as your friends are safe, you don't care if everyone else gets caught up in the dungeon's collapse."
That's a lie.
Laios isn't—couldn't be the only one to feel that way. Everyone else is just as selfish, right? There's no way that not one person doesn't feel the same way as him!
"You despise other humans; That's why you admire monsters so much. Monsters kill humans: They take forms that they can use to terrorize and slaughter humans. 'So cool,' you thought. 'How beautiful they are' I've seen you think. Why want a peaceful world when, in a peaceful world, dungeons and monsters disappear."
The lion walked farther and deeper into the void. Nearing towards what appeared to be a dinner table, the demon beckoned Laios to follow.
"If monsters disappear, you'll lose everything of interest: Your livelihood and passion. Do you really want that?"
The lion picked up a fork and knife and handed it to Laios.
"Falin will be safe, and Marcille won't have to die alone, that young jellyfish won't ever have to starve ever again: Everyone could be happy. Do you really want to choose a superficial and peaceful world over this?"
The lion turned Laios' attention to the dinner table. Laios gasped as he saw a monster not quite a mermaid, and far too similar to jellyfish: It was you. Laying on the table in a daze, covered in a variety of dishes and desserts, the monarch of mermaids remained paralyzed.
"The reason you were so intrigued by the dungeon was a rumor. 'The dungeon is able to turn people into monsters.' You want to be a monster, don't you?"
The lion grabbed Laios' hand with the fork and brought towards the monarch's stomach. Lightly pressing against the soft jelly‐like flesh, the lion continued to tempt Laios on. "You admire the monarch of sea because they had what you wanted. The ability to transform into something much more horrific than the damnest thing man has ever seen."
The lion pushed his hand; The fork piercing the skin and drawing a faint amount of water and blood out. "You want to eat, don't you? You want to taste the actual flesh and not just the flavorless tentacles."
Laios suddenly realized what was happening and tried to get away. "No! I can't eat (y/n)! They aren't a—"
"— a monster? What does it matter if the jellyfish is a monster? You ate plenty of monsters before. What makes this any different?"
"I—I don't..."
As Laios tried to move the fork away from your stomach, the lion chuckled and stopped Laios from moving the fork. Taking advantage of the situation, the demon further pushed in the fork all the way into the stomach of the monarch.
"You won't, even if I say you can become the monster you so desire?" This got Laios to halt all movement, and the lion let out a bellowed laugh. "Just eat the jellyfish, and everything can be yours."
The lion let go of Laios as it watched him pull out a bit of flesh. It looked bland but resembled more of actual meat with the blood oozing out and muscle strewn in deeper below. Laios put it in his mouth and swallowed. Uncooked and cold, it tasted bitter and sweet: It was delicious.
"Feast on flesh, and I'll make sure all your friends remain happy until their deaths."
Laios tore as far he could into the dense flesh and directly took a bite. Blood and water covered his face—clothes soaked in blood.
"Drink all the blood, I'll make so humans and monsters are able to co-exist without any harm towards monsters."
Laios climbed onto the table, grabbed your hand, and placed a finger in his mouth. Pushing your sharp nail onto his tongue, he forcefully drew out blood. He licked and sucked on your finger as he tasted his own blood. Biting down, he drank your blood.
"Chew on the bones, and the young monarch will be able to eat without regret."
You began to gain consciousness to see Laios on top of you. You tried to get up and ask Laios what he was doing. You felt liquid trickle done your chest and to your side. You fell back onto the table as Laios sat up and looked you. You saw blood running down his mouth; You felt as if you were missing something.
"Laios?" You were hardly auditable, but he heard you. Pushing your shoulders down, he went to gently bite your neck. "Ah—ah, what are you doing?"
"Trust me, alright?"
There was no need to ask. You already decided to trust Laios with everything you had the moment he remained truthful to you. You reached out and held onto his arms.
You noticed that the blood wasn't his, but rather yours. You looked at the wounds and missing skin and muscle. It wasn't something you weren't used to. Unable to feel pain, you aren't surprised you didn't notice. The thing that surprised you was the sensation of teeth and hands all over your body. Laios held you close at it was feeling you never felt. You didn't quite like it, nor did you hate it. You'd rather live without ever experiencing it.
"—and devour the heart."
Laios reached out and held your neck. He leaned closer and whispered, "Will you let me eat your heart?"
You brought a hand up and covered your face. With your other hand, you caressed his face. "I—I'm too tired to want to...."
With the winged lion looming over, Laios hastily went in to kiss you. Feeling blood seep into your mouth, you wondered for a moment if it was his or yours. Not that it mattered as the more you drank, the more drunk you felt tasting the metallic flavor.
Moving a hand up to your chest, Laios felt around, trying to find a heartbeat. You held and pulled on his hair as you continued to taste your own blood mixed with his. When you got enough, you pulled away and asked him, "Laios, what am I?"
Laios just gave you a saddened expression when he saw how lethargic you looked. Letting go of you, he hugged you tight.
"I don't know what you are, but all I need to know is that you are you: You are (y/n)."
You didn't say anything as you closed your eyes. That wasn't something you had never heard before; However, hearing him say it, it felt sincere.
Jellyfish don't have hearts. A jellyfish pretending to be a sea serpent don't have hearts. Sea serpents pretending to be a mermaid don't have hearts. You don't have heart.
Despite that fact, the time you spent with the mermaids: Them raising you and eventually making you their monarch—you felt as if you did have one. Even now, as Laios embraced you in his warmth, you felt as if that heart was real.
You gladly gave him your heart if it meant he'll use and protect it well.
You were fine.
You were you.
𓆟 𓆞𓆝
The hunger and gluttonous nature of all living things was what animal, monster, and man were so similar. No matter the differences in blood, flesh, bone, and hearts—the souls remain true. Do plants have souls? Do animals have souls? Do insects have souls? Do monsters have souls? Do we have souls?
Desire was what made the demon: Desire was something created from the need of the soul.
There was no need to know the answer at this moment—not as Laios got the first taste of desire.
Laios wondered how you lived before you met the mermaids. He wanted to know why you desired to know who you are. Even as he ate your heart, he still couldn't understand.
He wanted to know why you despised yourself and why you looked at him in such admiration. The same admiration he held for monsters. What was their to hate about your body? As a monster, Laios felt greater gods and above the world.
As he ate and ate away at the demon—eating its desire and existence—it cursed him.
Angered by the loss of its greatest desire and drive for life, the lion cursed him out of pure loathing.
"Laios Touden, I curse thee."
As the winged lion began to dissolve, it held Laios up by the shoulders and glared.
"Thy greatest desire shall never be granted."
Before Laios could understand what the meant, the lion spoke once again. "My goodness, what pathetic little creatures you are. Surely your kind exists for no other reason than to starve."
When all was left was the face, Laios swore he saw the lion smile. "I was mistaken about that child. That monarch alone was the greatest thing I have ever created. How I wish to tell them one last story."
"If I may desire just one last thing, I wish to grant one last blessing for that child."
Just one blessing to make that child happy.
The demon wished it could have loved you more.
𓆟 𓆞𓆝
When you woke up, you found yourself in the middle of a forest. You struggled to sit up with all the weight of your body. It felt uncomfortably dry and cold. At the same time, you were in absolute awe as this was the first time you saw flora and an endless sky out of the dungeon.
The sun was warm.
The sun was bright.
The wind was cold, as was the ground.
You wondered if this was what humans saw every morning.
Looking in front of you, you saw a human girl encased in crystal. With the appearance of a human, she resembled more of a dragon. She was just like you, wasn't she?
"(y/n)!"
You heard Laios call for you. Hearing him run towards you, he began to apologize profusely for what happened. You wanted to chuckle, but the lack of moisture was quite literally killing you.
"Laios, I need water."
Panicking, Laios struggled to pick you up. You were just too heavy. With your urging, he sat you near a tree.
"I'm sorry."
'It's fine. I'm quite very happy even if the events could be deemed as unfortunate." You found yourself wondering about the demon. "What ever happened to the lion?"
Laios tensed up as he sheepishly scratched the back of his ear. "About that...."
"Oh!"
You were quite surprised to hear that Laios ate the lion and, therefore, defeated it. Despite what the lion put you through, it was the one to raise you. You can't help but feel deeply upset at the news—not that you could blame Laios.
"So why aren't you with your friends?"
Laios looked down in shame. "They wouldn't want me around after all that happened."
"I don't believe that to be true."
And you were right.
As he and the others made amends, they (some) reluctantly helped pull you back into the ocean.
"Thank you for helping me."
Marcille seemed somewhat still disturbed at the fact you were the monster they had attacked. She apologized for everyone in the party and especially for Laios for eating your lappet.
"Did you apologize to them?!"
"This is why I told you not to eat demi-humans!"
It was quite an entertaining sight. Especially when you saw the worry on Laios' wash away with the wind.
It was then that the dwarf asked, "Are you hungry?"
You smiled as you admitted it true. You were always on the verge of starvation. Unwilling to eat anything until you absolutely had to, you starved for days and weeks. Now that you were out of the dungeon, you felt extremely hungry, despite always feeling this hunger.
It was painful
"I'll cook something for you!"
You never thought you would get along with surface dwellers.
"Thank you for the meal."
𓆟 𓆞𓆝
You sat at the seaside, watching as the mermaids swam around the ocean looking at the sun and catching fish never seen before.
Never did you think you and the mermaids would be able to leave the dungeon. Never did you think they would be able to speak the language of man.
In your hands were plants from the sea that Senshi had requested you to forage. Senshi wanted to cook or assemble raw forms of dishes made from Falin due to you and the mermaids' inability to eat cooked food. The first time you ate a sandwich, you vomited it in the ocean and floated around as the foreign pain made you sick. Never again did Senshi want his cooking to make someone that sick.
"Young (y/n)!"
You turned around as you heard Senshi himself shout at you.
"Senshi! I got them right here!"
Senshi thanked you and handed a dish sample. You wanted to ask him about Laios, but he left before you could do so. He and the others were quite busy with everything going on, so you couldn't be upset.
It was one of the things that made you slightly upset. The fact you were tied to the water meant that you couldn't walk on land and help them.
You sighed as you slumped back into the water.
You looked at the castle that arose from the ocean. The metals and wet stone glistened under the sunset. The water painted in the same shades as the sky. It was truly something beautiful that you had never seen in the dungeon. The water wasn't full of magic, light not obscured by darkness and stone.
It was boundless.
The mermaids all came to your side and took a seat on land, all looking at the same sight.
One of the mermaids swam towards you with a troubled look. She placed her head on your lap and spoke. "What now, your majesty? We can't stay here for long. The land is rising at an unstable rate—any day now, we could end stuck on land, unable to reach the water."
You closed your eyes as you thought. You wanted to see Laios at least one more time before departuring. However, if you delay your departure any longer, it could end up dangerous for you and the mermaids.
"We'll leave tomorrow morning."
"Alright."
There was a chance you would never see Laios again after today: Yet, you felt at ease. Laios fulfilled his promise to you, and that was enough for you. The fact you wouldn't have to worry about food and the long-term survival of the mermaids.
You laid back on the sand as you felt each grain cling onto your form.
"There once was a jellyfish who lived for one hundred centuries. Small, naive, unknowing: It had nothing remarkable about it. Then, one day, a lion decided to lend out a hand and guide the jellyfish among fire and brimstone. It told the jellyfish stories of the world and life beyond the dungeon. Held and chained to the water, the jellyfish wanted nothing more but to desire.
Then, one day, there came a knight who lent out a hand and sliced the jellyfish's bubble, showing curiosity beyond the dungeon.
Lost and desiring, the jellyfish took the knight's hand."
As you recounted the story of the jellyfish, the waves drummed, the winds whistled, and the mermaids sung their song.
"No longer bound by self-hatred and loathing, the jellyfish wanted nothing more but to follow the knight."
You wished you were a human just as Laios was. You wanted to see him grow and prosper with the Melini. You wanted to see him with all his friends and family together, dining and feasting on delicious food. You wanted to hear him sing his horrible song. You wanted to see dance with others. You wanted to see him on the throne.
When you wanted to see him, never was it with you by his side. There was no place for a monster next to the king.
With the blessing of the water, you and the mermaids were able to, for the first time, sing a new song together: a song best fit for the Monarch to chant their Lament.
The sound of crunching sand made you halt. Turning around, you saw Laios; Adorned in the same armor you first saw him in and wrapped in the now deceased demon. Despite all that happened, you still harbor gratitude for the winged lion. After all, It was the one to raise you all those centuries ago.
"You're singing with the mermaids." Laios stopped walking when he noticed the mermaids cower in disgust. "—and I see that you all settled well."
The mermaids ignored him as they swam away towards the castle.
"Yes, the mermaids are taking this situation rather well. Some of the tall-men and half-foots came by earlier, and the mermaids quite enjoyed the company."
Laios sat next to you in the sand. Gazing upon the castle with the lion's pelt, he truly looked like a king. You're glad you were able to see him in all his glory.
"I was rather surprised when they chose to converse with surface dwellers."
Laios leaned forward and ran his fingers through the sand. You remained still in the water, lappets fluttering.
"I remember you told me how important the mermaids song were to them. The song you guys just sung, it wasn't yours or the mermaids, was it?"
You felt yourself relax as you heard him speak. "No, that song was the first time we sang it. It was the first time we were able to sing the same song together."
"Why was it so sad sounding?"
"Ah, it—well....the song was a reflection of the monarch's melancholy."
"....the monarch; Are you sad?"
You remained quiet as the waves and oceans crashed onto shore.
"That I am for quite a variety of reasons that remain out of my control." You threw yourself at the sand and covered your head with your hands. "But alas, I will remain just fine. So, I ask that you don't burden yourself with my troubles."
Laios didn't pester you any further, and so, you two watched as the sun began to begin its descent. The waves were gentle, the wind was soft, the sand was silky, and the sky remained its brilliant magnificence.
Soon enough, Senshi and the others came by: Setting up tables and seats by the sea side. You are forever thankful for the few who were so kind as to dine alongside the mermaids despite their monstrous history.
Especially so you're glad Marcille and Chilchuck were able to forgive and apologize to you for your very first meeting.
When the mermaids came back, you all sat by the seaside and the surface dwellers on land. Even with this difference in anatomy and history, the tall-men, elves, orcs, dwarves, and mermaids were able to eat and converse with one another with familiarity. Exchanging tales of different cultures and species, it was a sight you'd never thought to desire.
You couldn't help but smile as you watched the mermaids enthusiastically talk with the others about the different songs around the world. You smiled even more when you saw a few of the mermaids awkwardly converse with Laios.
And you, you weren't like any of them, but neither were they. May it be selfish, you truly are glad that these differences exist among all races. Any one of them could be called a monster. The only difference between a sapient being and a monster was the willingness and power to deny instinct.
With a coral crown embellishing your head and the lion's pelt decorating Laios' figure—you two were the first beloved monarchs of the future united Kingdom of land and sea.
"May this be the union between the citizens of Melini and the mermaids of the Sea Monarch!"
With everyone silent and watching, you, the true monarch of sea, and Laios, the devourer of all things horrible, each go to take the final bites of the lions remains.
"With this shared meal, I hope against all adversaries and conflict that this union lasts a millennia. I thank you all for attending this dinner with the mermaids and I."
With that, everyone went back to feasting on the monstrous parts of Falin's flesh. Quite an odd predicament, but after what you and Laios did, it was much more tame.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Laios asked you, holding a plate of raw sushi towards you.
"I—it's a habit I have yet to forget."
Holding the raw flesh wrapped in rice and kelp, you hesitated for a moment before taking a small bite.
It tasted wonderful.
You ate more and more to the point the mermaids told you to slow down.
"Your majesty! Careful now!"
Laughing, you said, "Please forgive my impudent behavior, but how shall I behave when I can eat without this melancholic heart of mine?"
You wished this night could last for centuries without no end. However, you knew that was only a hopeless dream.
As the night progressed, more and more people would leave. The mermaids swam deep in the water for rest, those of land, going to their shelters, and warm beds. Eventually, it was just you and Laios.
Once again, you two sat by the seaside—it was the only place you two could be together. In silence, you two watched as the moon overtook the sun's position.
"(y/n)," Laios spoke suddenly. He turned to your direction and reached to hold both your hands. "I thought about this for a while, and I—I..."
Laios struggled to get his words out without making a complete fool of himself. Blushing and flustered, he held your hands tighter. "—Will you marry me!"
You were frozen in place.
You didn't know what to say. Marriage was something the lion told you about in only stories, never as something that may happen to you one day. Marriage was a concept foreign to mermaids, and you in turn. All you knew in that moment was that when you saw how red Laios was, that marriage must be something with great importance and the ultimate bond of love for humans.
"Laios! I—I.....I am unable to accept your proposal." You were leaving tomorrow morning. You two were separated by biology and land. He shouldn't marry someone like you. "We are leaving Melini tomorrow. The land is rising at an unsteady pace; We could be stranded at any moment in the night, and we need to wary of these conditions."
Laios grabbed your wrist when he saw you pull away. "Is that the only reason?"
You were melancholic, gentle soul.
Despite your feelings of affection towards Laios, you didn't want to bond with him on such an intimate level when you only had met him a little less than six times. You wish you could stay him just a bit longer to know him enough to accept.
Realizing how uncomfortable you must be from his sudden proposal, Laios let you go.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—"
"It's alright, Laios."
Laios stood up as he bowed in shame.
"I still apologize for being so forceful,"
"Laios—"
Before you could call out to him, he was already gone.
Even with your own feelings of insecurities, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as you thought about how "Laios" Laios was.
You do hope he sees you off tomorrow.
𓆞𓆝 𓆟
The winds bellowed, and the ocean danced, and still no sight of Laios. You held your head up for the sake of the mermaids. You refuse for them to have a melancholic monarch!
"It's time for us to leave, Your Highness."
"I am well aware. Go on before me, I wish to remain just a bit longer."
Watching as the sun changed from a dark blue to red and yellow, then blue, you wanted to see many other things on land. Things you'll never see while bound by water.
Desire was the greatest curse of them all.
When you heard familiar rapid footsteps in the sand, you turned around to see a figure throw themselves on you. You nearly fell in the water when you picked your assailant.
"Laios?!"
Placing him down, you saw him breathe heavily.
"I tried to come as soon as possible but they kept talking and talking! I had Kabru and Marcille distract them as I ran!"
"Laios...." You leaped forward and hugged him as the two of you fell onto the sand. "You're quite the amusing one, aren't you?"
"Yes!"
You two just laughed as you both laid in the sand to catch your composure. With bright sun lighting his face up, Laios really looked gentle as he sounded.
"Laios?" You turned on your side and reached out to hold one of his hands. "When you proposed to me yesterday and after I rejected you, I wanted to elaborate further on my reasoning for doing so."
You sat up and pulled yourself in the water. Still holding Laios' hand, you gently pulled on his hand as if to pull him into the water: He reflexively resisted.
"I can not leave the water nor can I force you in, even with the water's blessing. How could you wish to marry someone like me? Despite that, you are now king of Melini. You have the responsibility to rebuild the fallen kingdom and to guide the future of the people. As you have the citizens of Melini, I have my own people to care for. The mermaids still have need for my protection from this foreign sea and humans that wish to capture them. To marry in time as now is irresponsible and quite foolish."
Laios let go of your hand as he looked away in shame. "I'm so sorry for—"
"—'In a time like this.' Things may change in the future. The future of Melini won't always be in turmoil." You reached out and held Laios' face in your hands. "This is not to say that things aren't able to change. There's no telling how I'll accept your proposal in the near future."
Letting go Laios, you fell back into the water. No longer bound by the size and limit of food in the dungeon, there was no need to restrict yourself to this sapient form. Soaking in all you can, you became more of the jellyfish you once were. Abandoning most of your sapient features, you embraced your jellyfish nature.
"I'll be departing now, Laios. If you so decide to take me as your spouse even as I take this form, then meet me on the west coast once all of Melini shows itself. Perhaps then I'll be able to bring myself to accept."
Laios stood still, amazed at the sight of something as enchanting as you. Even as a mess of jelly, you still remained the lovable you—for Laios, that was enough.
"I'll make sure to bring Falin. She would love to someone as beautiful as you." Laios stepped forward and kneeled before you. "(y/n), no matter what form you take, my feelings will never change."
"Then, if you must, serenade me with a song of yours. The mermaids spoke once of it, and I wish to hear it."
"Of course."
You wished you could walk on land: To live without the restrictions of your gelatinous body. Was it so selfish to want to be with the one you desire?
No matter how strong that desire was. Your love and loyalty to the mermaids were stronger.
However, no matter how apart you two were, the bond made in a short period of time would prove to live throughout the testament of time.
𓆟 𓆞𓆝
"There once was a jellyfish who wished to be human; There once was a knight who wished to be the evil dragon.
There once was a jellyfish who fell in love with a knight.
With every flower, tree, coral, and grain of sand, the jellyfish loved everything around the knight.
With every fiber, lappet, flesh, blood, bone, and soul, the knight loved everything jellyfish consumed and breathed.
Separated by land and sea, once a year, they met at the coast of Melini and the edge of Thalassa. As if a dream, they sing the song of water and dance to their heart's content.
'Thus this dream never end'
'Thou these hearts dance and bond under the sun.'
'How I wish dearly for our union to remain true.'
These were the wishes of the King of Melini and the Monarch of Thalassa.
Blessed by the water of the world, birthed from both land and sea, I, Queen Levia, hereby declare Melini and Thalassa one nation sharing the same flesh, blood, bone, heart and soul."
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Thank you for reading!
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intromortal · 15 days
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sacrifice (eat me up)
vampire prince!p.sh x f!reader wc: 946
cw: smut, blood, sacrifices, main character death, some gore, hoonie is vampire royalty and huh... cannibalism?
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"My love", Sunghoon whispers against your temple as he keeps thrusting inside you with your knees spread open on his and his chest to your back, seated right on the altar you're supposed to get bitten and feasted on the following day. That same altar used to worship your malevolent deities was being repurposed as it now was you Sunghoon was worshipping. "Do not worry that pretty little head of yours, I will take care of this".
His brothers had warned him that falling in love so deeply with a mortal was a grave mistake. But he couldn't help how his heart swelled and his head felt lighter every time he saw you outside his royal palace, on his strolls down to the town. He knew in the end nothing good could come out of this, but he also didn't expect you to be chosen among the humans the princes had to sacrifice every year to the gods of the undead, to keep them from unleashing their wrath on the already weak and thinning population they were tasked to protect all those centuries ago.
It's not like he could do anything to change your fate, the gods chose the subjects themselves and any harm brought to them would cause a catastrophe of unseen magnitude.
Once selected the thirteen unlucky humans would be taken to the palace, held away from everyone else, with enough commodities to pretend they were somewhat free but also with no freedom at all, until the day of the ritual where the princes had to inject them with their powerful venom and leave them on the altar they had built as an offering for the deities to descend and feast on. Other than the intoxicating feeling of savouring flesh infused with powerful vampire royalty blood probably induced, Sunghoon truly could not understand what this ritual accomplished anyway.
He kept thinking about how the deities were toying with them all, princes and population alike, as he let his hand travel down your body to your cunt, starting to toy with your bundle of nerves, eliciting sweet sounds of pleasure and desperation from you.
He thought about how you must be so scared, even with the brave face you put up in front of everyone, even when you sweetly asked him to make you his one more time before the ritual after he snuck you out of the chambers you were being kept in. You were probably thinking about all the rumours that spread like wildfire among the peasants: how there had to be reasons to leaving such a bloody mess after every session the gods required, entire chunks of flesh still hanging from the corpses, sometimes leaving one martyr miraculously but barely alive, entire limbs and organs missing, indicating that they were alive while being eaten.
He thought they probably drew more pleasure from inflicting this psychological pain on the princes and the landsmen than anything. Not that Sunghoon was particularly affected by this: his brothers cared a lot more, sweet Jay and Sunoo in particular, the most devoted to their mission among all of them.
He keeps thinking and thinking and thinking as he fucks you towards your orgasm, small tears trailing down his cheeks at the devastating feeling of having to give you up.
"Hoonie", you sob out as you come around him, leaning your head against his shoulder as tears and other broken sobs start to spill out of you. Sunghoon suspects he might be crazy as he feels his heart hurt, even though he knows it stopped beating aeons ago. It's then that he makes up his mind.
He lowers his head, starting to trail kisses down your neck as you sigh fondly, head still cloudy from your high. "My dearest, I will love you until the end of times with my entire being, but think it's time to go", he whispers against your skin before revealing his sharp canines and biting down without waiting for your response, your sweet taste invading his senses. You uselessly struggle against him, so he sneaks his arms around your body, securing them against your middle and pinning you closer to his chest as he keeps feeding off of you. His mouth is so full of your blood, and he doesn't think he could stop even if he wanted to, so he keeps gurgling down whatever your body manages to give him.
You're barely conscious as he starts ripping away the flesh from the junction of your neck and shoulders, savouring and relishing in your flavour as he questions how he could have ever lived without this bliss all his life. He spins you around as he keeps gnawing at any inch of skin he can manage before your body goes cold. His mind is far gone at that point, intoxicated by you at the point of no return, and even if he knows he just sentenced an entire population to eradication he can't bring himself to care. Why would he want anyone to live after losing you? He thinks if you don't get to live then no one else should. His lovely angel. So he laughs. He laughs so hard and so loud and maniacally as he holds whatever's left of you close, bloody chunks of flesh all over his clothes and his eyes blown out with lust still as his brothers barge in the room, horrified looks dawning on their faces when they take in the gruesome scene in front of their eyes.
Sunghoon feels his throat flood with bile as his crazed laughs turn into painful sobs, his whole being shaking as he slowly sobers up. "Don't worry my love, I will be seeing you soon", he whispers against your mutilated corpse. "We all will".
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a/n: idk y'all i was feeling a little quirky
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donniehere · 1 month
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐄?
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pairings: ot5!txt x reader. (separate.)
genre: apocalypse au, light angst, fluff.
warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of cannibalism, gore, apocalypse, zombies.
synopsis: the world is ending, humanity has entered a worldwide crisis, and you're stuck with them.
this quite literally inspired me to plan a whole fanfiction :3
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CHOI YEONJUN [최연준]
↬ The both of you were neighbors, and you were the one to let him inside your apartment three days after the crisis began, and from then on, you continued on fighting back to back.
↬ He doesn’t trust anybody. You won’t get to save anybody when it comes to him, bitten or uninjured. It will be just you and him.
↬ Acts fearless around you, when he’s actually a coward and seeks your comfort nonstop.
↬ Despite the fear that consumes him when a flesh-eating monster is ahead, he continues on protecting you, making sure you’re safe and uninjured, which you appreciate.
↬ Every night, one of you keeps watch so that the other can get some deserved rest.
↬ Everytime the both of you move from one location to another, he makes sure he has some sort of physical contact with you. Whether it’s interlocking his fingers with you, or having an arm wrapped around your shoulder. He cannot risk losing you in this already fucked up reality.
A high-pitched scream escaped your not-so hydrated lips as you landed harshly on the floor, a zombie climbing on top of you, attempting to bite the flesh of your face.
Your eyes fell shut instantly, embracing the upcoming painful death that never actually came. You felt the zombie’s corpse resting upon your body and slowly lifted your eyelids. The monster’s head was now detached from the body and Yeonjun stood above you, a metal bat painted in blood held in his hand.
His breathing was heavy and sweat rolled down the side of his face. “A-Are you okay?” He questioned, arm reaching down to help you up. With a groan, you pushed the corpse off of you and shakily took his arm and he lifted you up. You huffed as he pulled you into a tight hug, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him too, embracing him back. Tears began streaming like a river down his face, “I thought I lost you..”
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CHOI SOOBIN [최수빈]
↬ You both liked each other and he finally planned on confessing his feelings by taking you on a date to the beach. However, the date you’ve been dreaming about was ruined by an apocalypse, and the both of you struggled to survive. Thankfully love was the biggest hope.
↬ You broke into a weapon shop and stole some guns and knives in order to protect yourself. Let’s say.. you were unbeatable, despite the first-time struggle.
↬ You both learned how to defeat the zombies and decided on helping as many survivors as possible. And not too much later, you already established a large group of survivors who assisted you in fighting against the cannibals.
↬ While he’s harsh on the others, he is extremely soft when it comes to you, completely melting into your touch and words of affirmation.
↬Before every fight with the zombies, the both of you share a goodluck kiss, and promise to return alive.
You watched as Soobin instructed the survivors on how to handle a zombie, raising his voice at them whenever they failed. You felt bad, but they were quite useless if they didn’t know how to fight. After the training, Soobin came up to you, and fell right into your arms. “Don’t think you were too harsh?” You mutter, hand raising to brush through his nested hair.
“They have to be mentally strong to survive, anyway.” He exhales, arms smoothly wrapping around your waist. He lifted his head from your shoulder, lips pressing against yours sweetly. He pulled back and stared passionately into your eyes. “I’m happy you’re still standing beside me.”
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CHOI BEOMGYU [최범규]
Two bandmates who goofed around at the beginning of the apocalypse until realization finally hit you, and then you began appreciating each other’s presence. The rest of your band was tragically turned into brainless monsters, and you were left with no option but to murder them yourself, since Beomgyu was mentally incapable of doing so.
Regarding to that, if you’d like to survive an apocalypse with Beomgyu, you’ll have to be the one taking the lead and making sacrifices, he’s just unable to fight face-to-face with a zombie.
Shares his food with you. Whether it’s a full meal or a little snack, he still makes sure to share his food with you as a way of thanking you.
You have those little moments where you bring up memories and experiences you’ve shared together before everything began— more like, ended. You eventually end up crying in each other’s arms.
A year after the apocalypse began, you both finally returned to the band’s shared apartment and surprisingly, Beomgyu’s guitar was still there. You agreed on carrying it with you just in case, and you definitely praised the old decision.
Two survivors sat on the top of a towering building, eyes glued to the starry night-sky. Beomgyu’s fingers danced along with the guitar’s strings as you gently bobbed your head to the sounds. You felt a weight lifting off your chest. “You look beautiful, even when you’re covered in blood and dust.” Beomgyu chuckles. You roll your eyes, thanking the gods that the darkness was keeping your flushed face hidden from Beomgyu’s sight.
“You should be thankful I’m capable of protecting the both of us.” You mumble, an exhausted exhale escaping your lips.
“I’m always thankful.” He smiles, earning a small grin from you too. “You know, moments like these make me realize that despite the fact that the world is ending, everything might still be okay, as long as I’m with you.”
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KANG TAEHYUN [강태현]
Best-friends who met thanks to the baseball club, and found themselves surrounded by bitten squadmates. Thankfully, you were returning from a competition when everything went down, so you were still wearing the gear and were handicapped.
The both of you stood strong against zombies, but Taehyun made sure to lead the way. He was always the one to check the hallways first, always the one to risk his life for you.
Is very protective of you, and never abandoned you. Will insist on fighting the zombies for you if it means you leaving uninjured.
You found a group of survivors in the school you were stuck in, and whenever they would spit at the both of you for being outsiders and not trusting you, Taehyun will stand up for you.
Words of affirmation. I repeat. Words of affirmation. The both of you continued on comforting eachother whenever needed, which is probably the only thing keeping you sane right now.
The rest of the students were already asleep, while the two of you volunteered to keep on watch for tonight. Taehyun was sitting down on the freezing cold, you laying between his legs, his chest pressing against your back. “Say, do you think we’ll make it out alive?” You questioned out of the blue.
“Who knows?” He sarcastically replied, not taking you seriously. His expression changed when you turned to look at him, tears falling from your eyes. “[Name]..” He calls softly.
“I’m sorry.. I couldn’t help but overthinking everything, and realization suddenly hit me. We might not make it out alive..” You choke on your own words. “Taehyun—“
“We’ll make it out alive, so stop worrying.” He directed a deep look into your glistening eyes. “I don’t care if we’re humanity’s last survivors, I promise the both of us will survive.”
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HUENINGKAI [휴닝카이]
You were a nurse in a hospital, and he happened to run into you after searching for medical supplies for his friend, who apparently was injured. After you took care of his friend’s wounds, Kai dragged you along with them and kept you safe.
He has experience with video games of that kind, so he wasn’t exactly afraid, just stressed. He didn’t want to lose neither you or his friend. Unfortunately, a zombie had defeated his friend and Kai tried killing it, but got injured as a result.
You mostly took care of meals and the medication, while Kai fought. You were always concerned for his well-being, but he always gave you that short peck that calmed you down.
His love language is gift-giving. Every time he goes out in search of survivors or any sign of hope, he returns with a small gift just for you, warming up your heart.
He always finds a way to make you laugh through the harsh world, which you loved most about him. The way he could light up an entire dark world.
Kai had just returned from another mission which ended up with his arm getting scratched. You sighed, carefully treating his wound as he hissed at every slight touch. “You should be more careful.” You worriedly beg him.
“I can try..” He spoke with a soft smile. You had no idea how he was able to smile through the pain. “Also, I brought this with me.”
Your eyes jerked downwards to see what he was holding. A standing white flower. You were surprised. How come that flower is still alive?
“It was so beautiful and was outstanding amongst the dead field.” He raised his hand, giving you a full view of the beautiful flower. “It reminded me of you, since you’re able to standstill even during the strongest storms.”
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DISCLAIMER: This post is pure fiction and doesnt reflect the idols' actual behaviour and personalities.
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