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#male monster x reader
loousir · 3 months ago
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[Demon] "Catching" Your Roommate
Demon Male x Male Reader
Freed
Warnings: This one is a lemon, big demon heat, slight thigh worship, slow burn-ish, breed/wife things closer to end
*.°♡•【Lust】•♡°.*
1 of 7 The Seven Sins Series
Masterlist
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The rain thundered against your windshield as you drove down the desolate street. Everyone had retreated to some building for the night.
Shit... It's getting worse...
You thought to yourself as you carefully got closer and closer to your shared home. You let out a small sigh of relief as you pulled into your driveway, seeing he had made it home fine. "Glad he got home before this shit storm hit..." You mumbled out to yourself. You turned off the car after slipping it into park, grabbed the keys, being ready to unlock the door. You made sure you had everything you needed before getting out and quickly running up to the front door.
The door opened and you were finally saved from the rain, quickly, yet gently, shutting it behind you. Another sigh of relief slipped past your lips as you set your keys on the table and heading to your room to slip out of your soaking wet clothes.
Wonder if he's asleep...
You didn't bother to check and just wanted to get into some dry clothes. Once you got to your door, you noticed it was cracked slightly and the light was on. You decided to peak in and wow... Did you not expect to see that. Your roommate, Freed, was laying on your bed, jacking off while sniffing a pair of your briefs. His arrow-tipped tail was flicking back and forth as he mumbled something. You only watched a little while longer before his eyes looked to the door and almost instantly locked eyes with yours. Your eyes widened slightly and you backed away from the door. You were about to retreat into the living room when he came up behind you and held you close to him by the waist.
"F-freed what are you doing? I-is something wrong?" You asked, acting as if nothing was wrong. He nuzzled his nose into your neck and inhaled deeply. One of his horns was pressed against your head as his hands gripped your hips just a little tighter, pulling your frame against his massive one. "Freed, a-are you ok?" He didn't say anything and just picked you up, taking you back to your room and setting you down by the door. He closed and locked it before turning back to you.
"(Y/n), there's so much wrong but... I can't help it..." He walked over to you and turned you to face him. His slim fingers angled your chin up to look at him. "Can I kiss you? Please let me kiss you." He pleaded. You didn't respond and when you didn't, he started to strip you of your clothes. Your face lit up as you tried to stop him. "H-hey, Freed! Stop..!" He paused momentarily to look down into your eyes. "You're soaking wet (Y/n), we don't want to get you sick." His hands continued to pull your pants off before moving back up to your shirt.
You tried to stop him from removing that as well but he still managed to get it off. "Freed w-why are you doing this?" You asked weakly. He smirked and picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. "I'm sorry... You forgot, didn't you? You came at a... Really bad time." He said huskily into your ear. "Y-you mean..? But I thought..."
"Yeah me too... It came early... I'm sorry..." He laid you flat on the bed and hovered overtop of you before grinding himself against your still-covered cock. "No it, it's fine... Mhmm~" You let out a small moan as he continued to grind against you. "(Y/n) will you help me... Please... Please let me use your body... I promise I won't hurt you... Please, (Y/n), please..." He leaned down and kissed your neck before sucking gently, making you moan softly once more.
"Free-ed, Freed look at mh~ me..."
His once soft green eyes are now bright and glowing. "Just this~ ah~ once... I... I'll let you... I trust you..." You saw him smile briefly before going back to sucking at your neck. His hips never stopped grinding but his hand roamed over your upper body. His movements were so gentle, so fluid. As if he'd always imagined doing this with you.
He pulled away and gently peeled away your boxers, slipping them off of your legs and throwing them somewhere in the room. "Gods you're beautiful (Y/n)... You are so..." He leans down and positions himself so that he's between your thighs. "Beautiful~"
Freed moans softly as he gently coaxed you to press your thighs against his head. You had been watching him the whole time and the absolute face of pleasure he had was stunning. You had never seen him make a face like that before in the many years the two of you have been friends. He looked so happy, so content.
"Freed..." Your eyes widened slightly as you realized you called his name. His pupils dilated slightly when he looked up to you. He smiles gently and closes his eyes as he presses his cheek into your thigh for a moment longer before moving back up. His rather large boner was pressed against your own smaller one which made you shiver.
"(Y/n), give me your hands..." You did as requested and held your hands out to him. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them up to his head. "Please hold onto them, tug them, rub them, anything while I prep you..." Freed panted softly as your hands gently wrapped around the large black horns that protrude from his soft white hair.
He got a bottle of lube from who knows where and coated his fingers and your entrance. You shivered once again and slightly tightened your grip on his horns pulling his head closer to your chest. He inhaled sharply before looking up to your eyes. The two of you locked eyes yet again as he gently pushed in a finger. You gripped more onto his horns as he moved his finger in and out, warming you up for another.
You decided to take some initiative and gently stroked his horns up and down. They felt so, odd, yet so nice. The small ribs on the horns almost massaged your soft hands. Freed let out a rather low moan as he slipped another finger into you, making you moan as well. He moved his head to look up to before looking at your neck where some hickeys were starting to form.
Freed practically drooled at the sight. He leaned up to your neck again, making you slightly lose the hold on his horns. Your hands rested on the side of his head, to which you ended up gently rubbing his pointed ears as he created more hickeys on your neck. His fingers were still scissoring you for a moment before he slipped a third in. You let out a surprised moan and some heavier pants as he moved his fingers in and out of your hole.
"Freed please... I, I can't wait~ I already feel like I'm gonna come..!" Your last words were rushed as that heat in the pit of your stomach was starting to make itself more known. Freed bit his bottom lip as he pulled his head back. He moved your hands back to his horns. His body was trembling, like he was about to explode as well. "Once I do this... I dont think i'll be able to hold back..."
Your eyes locked with his. "Its OK. Im~ Ready Freed..." He looked down and positioned himself at your entrance. Freed held onto your hips as he pushed in, his cock stretching more than his fingers did. You moaned out in pain and pleasure as you tugged on his horns, pulling his head closer to your face.
I feel so full~
"Oh gods Freed..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His panting became heavier as he started to slowly thrust. You let out rather loud moans as his dick hit every good spot. "AH~ FREED!" You yelled his name as he hit your prostate.
That was his breaking point.
His thrusts became aggressive, making you hold onto his horns as if they were a lifeline, moans spilling from your lips as he pounded into your hole. Freed looked up to you momentarily before hungrily capturing your lips in a kiss. This must have been for not letting him earlier. His tongue made its way into your mouth, you responding just as eagerly.
"(Y/n), look at me." His demanding voice called out to you. You did as told and he smirked. He thrust harshly into you, you could practically feel it in your stomach and what a feeling that was. "I'm going to breed you (y/n). You'll have my children, and you'll be my wife." You simply responded by moaning at his thrusts and gently closing your eyes as he somehow got even more aggressive with his thrusting, saying he was getting closer to his release.
"Tell me. Do you want me to breed you?" He laughs. "Not like I care. I will breed you. Fill you to the brim with my cum." His words, while vulgar, were making the experience more heated. "Dammit Freed..! Ahha~ Please! Please!" You begged him for release. He caught your lips in a kiss again, before thrusting in, and making you reach that magical climax. You pulled your head away from him to moan out and breathe as he kept thrusting into you before finally coming. Your walls tighten around him as you felt his huge load fill you.
You moaned slightly as he gently pulled out, but something was quickly put in its place. "F-freed... Wh..." Your voice was failing, worn out from moaning. He smirked again and kissed your slightly swollen lips. "For safe keeping." He said, lying down next to you. "I'll be honest. I'm still... Really horny... But... You look tired..."
He was right. You were very tired after that. "I'll go get you some water and clean up a bit~ Relax..."
---
"(Y/N) I'M SO SORRY I DONT KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME YESTERDAY AND I CANT BELIEVE WE DID THAT." Freed was frantically trying to apologize for his sudden heat yesterday and make it up to you considering when you tried to stand after waking up you collapsed.
He had comically large tears coming out of his eyes as he did everything to make you comfortable. He made breakfast, made the couch super cozy, he waited on you head to toe.
"Freed."
He looked up to you when his name was called with a really cute pout on his face. You smiled sweetly at him and beckoned him over to sit next to you on the couch. He did so and you cuddled up to him, making him blush heavily. "Do you like me Freed. And not just as a friend." You looked up to him as a blush covered his face. "I-I mean... Y-yeah... I uh, I do..." He looked at the TV, trying not to make eye contact with you. "How long?"
Freed admitted to you. You smiled and cuddled closer to him. "Cuddle me." You demanded to him. He did as you wished and you leaned up to his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw.
"Huh?"
"How long have you liked me?"
"A few years now."
"I'll be your wife."
-----
1957
Not very proof read
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gargoyle--prince · a year ago
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Does A big monster that is just lifting you up and down on his cock with his huge clawed hands wrapped around you thighs, long tongue twisting down to lick you just where you want him to sound good to anyone else or is that just me?
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Achilles, part one
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Rating: SFW Pairing: Male Gargoyle x Male Reader Warnings: Big big huge warnings for suicidal ideation and attempted suicide. Literally in the beginning of the story, which is why it’s all going to be beneath a cut. This story is going to have D/s tones, pain play, and a very possessive lover. There’s also alcohol and drinking.
This story absolutely possessed me and I couldn’t stop writing until all of this huge chapter was out. Enjoy!
xxx
Up here, the church bells sound distant and hollow, and yet I can feel each toll in the soles of my bare feet. The city lights are hazy, and all her many sounds are muffled by the blood rushing in my ears. I’ve left my wallet and shoes to weigh down the note I’ve left for my sister, and I take a pull from the bottle of whisky I’ve brought up to dull my senses and make things a little easier. I splurged on a good bottle, so I allow myself one last wash of regret that I’d never enjoy another one.
I’m no stranger to regret. My life is going up in smoke around me, and so here I am, drinking booze and sitting at the edge of the roof of my former place of employment. At least I would give those fuckers one hell of a smear to have to clean up off the concrete below. Bastards.
I finish my whisky and toss the bottle over my shoulder behind me, rolling up my sleeves and sniffling in the wind that whips up around me and dries out my eyes. I close them and heave a sigh, loosening my white-knuckled grip on the building beneath me. My last act on earth isn’t graceful, and I don’t swan dive so much as I shimmy my ass off the edge and plunge into the open air feet first, but by now, I’m too drunk to care. My body sings with adrenaline, and for an instant, I feel like I’m flying.
When I next open my eyes, my head is throbbing and my body is sore, but I’m alive. I groan and roll over onto my side, vision swimming and stomach revolting until I retch and let all the whisky come back up. When I’m done, I roll away from my mess and onto my back, blinking blearily up at the sky above me and sighing deeply. Figures I couldn’t even kill myself right.
Something isn’t sitting right with me, but then several things click all at once. Firstly, I shouldn’t have survived a 30 story drop with nothing more than aches and an upset tummy. Secondly, the night sky is ablaze with stars, with none of the light pollution I’m so used to in the city, and that’s when I notice that there are no buildings rising up around me to choke out the sky.
Lastly, I realise I’m not alone.
I scramble to sit up when I feel the weight of someone’s gaze on me, nearly putting my hand in my sick. I catch myself at the last second and manage to avoid it, and that’s when I notice that I’ve been lying on soft, plush grass instead of pavement. I look around me as best I can in the dark that surrounds me, and I have to admit that it takes me an embarrassingly long time to see the gleam of eyes in the shadows. When I see them, I freeze, feeling myself growing more sober by the second. Whatever it is, it shifts and begins to come closer, stepping into the weak moonlight that I’m sitting in.
I jolt with shock, belching with the act and tasting bile and whisky.
What stands towering above me is a creature straight out of my wildest dreams or nightmares, easily eight feet tall and with dark, pupil-less eyes. He has skin the colour of sand that’s stretched taut over his spectacular musculature, clawed hands and feet, and a tail that lashes behind him. Two jagged horns curve up and away from his head, ending in lethal-looking tips that could gore a man as easily as any bull. As I watch him, slack-jawed and starry-eyed, large, leathery wings as wide across as a small plane stretch out to block the moonlight, leaving me breathless with awe.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “I’m gonna die after all.”
He cocks his head at me and smirks, the expression cutting across his chiseled features wickedly. When he approaches, I do my best not to shrink away. Death is on the itinerary tonight either way, and beggars can’t be choosers.
“So eager to perish?” he asks, his voice a bassy boom like thunder overhead.
I blink. I hadn’t been expecting him to be able to speak. Rude of me, I guess. “I was kind of in the middle of it, before you interrupted,” I say, and I cheer internally when I only fumble my words once. Take that, whisky.
He stalks closer to me, tucking his wings back in against his shoulders and considering me. “Why?”
Why? It was a question I’d entertained, myself.
First, I allowed myself to get married to my job instead of my partner, until he grew sick of my excuses and left me at the proverbial altar to our lives with little more than a word of farewell, a discarded ring, and a roiling in my gut that nothing could quell. Then, in the next month, I threw myself into my work until I was up to my eyeballs in paperwork every day, only to find out that my department had been part of a huge money laundering scheme, and as one of the chief accountants of the company, I was going to be the scapegoat. The prospect of years in the slammer with no future, no partner, and very little contact with my estranged family other than the odd call with my sister left me the broken man I now am.
I tell him so, and I try not to let my emotions get the better of me, but the whisky makes it hard. By the end of my miserable tale, I find myself staring up at the moon in an attempt to keep from crying, but it doesn’t work; I can feel tears burning in my eyes, and I can taste them on my tongue when I speak. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. One last cry.
I startle when I feel cool, rough fingers cupping my face and lowering my head, making me look into his dark, unsettling eyes. There is no sympathy in them, only a cool sort of calculation as he measures me against some mysterious yardstick of qualifications.
“If I left you now, would you do it again?”
I frown, trying to pull my head out of his grasp, but his hold is strong, and I’m very drunk. “Yeah,” I say, sniffling and scowling up at him. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No,” he says, and he smiles. It isn’t a welcoming expression, and his teeth are long and sharp. I feel a thrill of fear race up my spine from my stomach on up, but I grit my teeth against it. No matter what, I want to die with some sort of dignity, and curling up on myself in the face of his malice is not it.
“What’d you do, snatch me out of the air like Superman?”
His smile drops, nictitating membranes flickering over his eyes. “Yes,” he says, one claw digging into my chin hard enough that I might bruise, if I survive him. “Are you not afraid of me?”
I snort. “Buddy, if I was afraid of what you could do to me, I wouldn’t have tossed myself off that building.”
He laughs then, and it sounds like a rockslide. “Then you are no coward. Live.”
I scowl at him, and this time I push his hand away, struggling to my feet and getting in his personal space when he stands. “Fuck you,” I spit, shoving at his chest. “You think that just because you intervened, everything is gonna magically fix itself? Huh? You think that just because you stuck your fucking nose in someone else’s business, there’s going to be some mystical pivotal point in their life and it’s all gonna change? Go fuck yourself, you horny piece of shit!”
“‘Horny’?” he echos, brows flying up with shock. He doesn’t budge when I shove him again; if anything, he looks bewildered.
“You heard me,” I snarl. “If you’re just gonna save me and go, thinking yourself some kind of enigmatic superhero, you can go ahead and fucking leave. Don’t waste my time or yours.”
He cocks his head as though seeing me with new eyes. “So you would kill yourself regardless. That makes your life forfeit.” He takes hold of the front of my jacket, and I hear the fabric protest against such rough treatment. “I will do with it, then, whatever I please.”
“What?” I blurt, but that’s all the warning I get before he snatches me up against him and takes off with one great flap of his wings.
I can’t help it. I scream. I scream louder and longer than I’ve ever screamed in my life, and then I scream some more. Then I must pass out, because the next thing I know, we’re landing on the balcony of some huge building, and my captor is striding into the room adjacent and through another door to finally set me down on tiles that are so cold that I yip with shock.
Lights come on—dim, almost atmospheric—to reveal a sprawling bathroom, and as I struggle to take in my surroundings of porcelain and gold, my captor bends to stop up the truly massive claw foot tub and turn on the tap. “Strip,” he orders, turning towards me again.
“Excuse me?” I splutter, stepping away from him as he advances. “Where the fuck have you taken me? Where am I?”
“You are in my home in New Asidonia,” he says, entirely nonplussed, where I feel as ruffled as a flustered chicken.
“New where? Is that even a country?”
He shrugs, dismissing my question with an elegant wave of his long, clawed fingers. “I use magic to travel between our realms. You are very fortunate that I came upon you when I did. Of all the little cities you humans have created, I decided upon yours for my morning flight.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” I snap, reaching up to rub between my eyes; I am going to have one hell of a headache. I squawk when he takes hold of my arm and tugs me closer, struggling briefly against the steel-corded muscles of his arms. I go stock still as he tears my jacket and shirt clean off my chest, mouth gaping like a hooked carp’s. “You shit! That hurt, and this suit was expensive!”
“You will not be needing it,” he says, and when I struggle and flail against him as he tries to wrestle off my trousers, he gives up and plucks me off my feet with an exasperated sigh, dropping me gracelessly in the half-full tub with a mighty splash.
I lurch out of the water sputtering, trousers tangled around my legs along with my underwear as I clutch at the edge of the tub, coughing and gasping for air. “What—“ I cough, wheezing and looking up at him with wide, horrified eyes. “—the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You smell strongly of alcohol,” he says, moving away to a set of shelves full of crystal bottles, small tubes, and squat little jars. He opens this and that, sniffing at the contents delicately and replacing things time and again. I take the opportunity to squirm out of my trousers and underwear, wringing them out for lack of something to do before I toss them out of the tub along with the rest of what’s left of my clothing. I feel vulnerable here, now that I’m in his domain, and so I tuck my legs up against my chest, watching him warily as he approaches the tub with a few items in hand.
Under my watchful eye, he pours some clear oil into the water and sprinkles in a liberal amount of bath salts, and I begin to smell citrus and something floral tickling my nose. “What is it?” I ask, curious despite my disquiet.
“Orange-infused bathing salts and oil of gardenia,” he replies without inflection, turning away from me to take the items back to their designated places on the shelves.
“Strange combination,” I murmur, reaching out to turn off the tap before the tub has a chance to overflow.
Not that it makes a difference, since it overflows the moment that he steps into the tub behind me.
I make an entirely undignified noise of alarm, but before I can scramble away and out of the tub, he scoops me up onto his lap with all the ease of a mother orangutan dragging her errant young out of a tree. I’m breathless by the time he manages to get me to settle down, my body flushed from exertion, drink, and the heat of the water. I scowl up at him, but he merely cups his hand in the water and starts to trickle it over my head, over and over again, and I realise with a start that he’s bathing me.
“This is the weirdest fucking thing that’s ever happened to me,” I whisper, unsettled, but I don’t move away. Up close, he’s almost handsome, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had a man pull me onto his lap. I can’t deny that I’ve been craving touch more than ever this last month, and though he’s been anything but gentle since we’ve met, I find myself melting as he runs his claws through my hair.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, easing me against his chest and stroking my back with his big, strong hands.
I’m just drunk enough that I relax under his attention, feeling myself go limp in the cradle of his arms. “I don’t even know your name,” I mumble, feeling petulant about my situation but doing nothing to remedy it.
“Achilles,” he quietly replies, and I test the name on my tongue, finding that it fits my mouth like a key to something I’m too tired to examine. So, instead, I sleep.
I wake with a pounding behind my eyes. I groan and burrow under the covers of the large, comfortable bed I’m snuggled into, though I screech and almost flail off of it entirely when I bump into a body beside me. Achilles’ arm extends like a whip and he grabs hold of my wrist, hauling me against him before I tumble over the edge. I sag in something between resignation and relief when my memory comes back to me, and then I wince.
“Oh, gods, my head,” I whimper, pressing my face against Achilles’ chest. I jolt when I feel his hand come up to settle on the crown of my head, and then I make a noise of protest when he shifts beneath me to get up. I’m slightly mollified when he tucks me back into bed in the pocket of warmth left behind by his body, but even then, I have to reach up to drape my arm over my eyes.
“That should be enough to put you off of drink,” he says as he leaves the room, and I scowl after him.
“Asshole,” I mutter, rolling over to get away from the light that floods in through the huge windows that make up the wall facing the morning sun. Achilles had said something about ‘traveling between realms’ the night before, so I can’t even be sure that the sun is rising in the east like it does back home.
I can’t be sure how long it is before he comes back, but when he does, it’s with a tray in his hands, which he sets over my lap when I sit up. On said tray is an arrangement of both cold and hot foods from sweet sticky bread to steaming eggs, though the latter have an alarmingly pink yolk. “What is this?” I ask, picking up the fork he’s provided and poking at the eggs until the yolks run.
“Breakfast,” says Achilles, his tail moving forward to reveal a teapot curled securely in its grasp. He pours a strong, herbal concoction into a cup beside a glass of water, then sets the teapot down on the bedside table. “That will help with the pain that you are experiencing. Drink. Eat.”
“I’m not a dog,” I grumble, though my stomach gurgles needily as the smells permeate the room.
Achilles snorts his amusement and steps away to the double doors of the balcony, throwing them open and letting in birdsong and more of that accursed sunlight. He stretches his wings out and over his head along with his arms, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander along his long, muscular form in the light of day. He’s definitely more handsome than I gave him credit for in the moonlight, with a strong jaw and bright, dark eyes.
Before I know it, Achilles is taking off from the balcony, disappearing into the sky above… wherever we are.
I look away from the place he’d been and take a wary sip of the brew he’s given me, and I find myself relaxing as I drink. It’s not bad, but it does have a bit of a grassy aftertaste; a little sugar would fix it right up, but Achilles didn’t provide me with any, so I settle for dunking the sweet bread in and hoping for the best. As I eat, I find that I’m ravenously hungry, and I surprise myself by finishing off the entirety of the contents of the breakfast tray. Just as I’m stuffing the last piece of toast into my mouth, Achilles returns, landing on the balcony with nary a sound.
“Good flight?” I ask, wiping my mouth with the napkin provided—cloth, and embroidered so delicately at the edges that I feel bad about wiping my crumby gunk on it.
Achilles looks at me as though surprised by my question, pausing to consider as he draws in his wings. “Yes,” he says after a moment, “but I did not wish to dally for long.”
I arch a brow at him. “Worried I’ll break something?”
“Yourself,” he replies, and I bristle.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snipe, pushing the tray off of my lap with a clatter of crockery. “I’ll try not to throw myself down a flight of stairs or do a somersault off the balcony for five fucking minutes while you get in your morning calisthenics.”
“See that you do not,” Achilles equably replies, and I grind my teeth.
Bastard.
Suddenly, he approaches me on the bed, and I can’t help but draw away and pull the covers up against my chest like a maiden on her wedding night. “What?” I ask, but he merely plucks me out from under the covers as though I weigh nothing more than a kitten, hoisting me up beneath my arms so that we’re on eye level. “Hey!” I meep, struggling and trying to kick at his stomach. It’s about as effective as kicking a concrete barrier, and I hiss as I flinch away from him, toes aching.
He snorts.
Bastard.
“You will dress and join me in the library,” he announces, hoiking me up against his hip and carrying me across the expansive, richly decorated bedroom towards what turns out to be a walk-in closet. For all of the space inside of it, there are only a few items on the hangers and shelves, mostly bedding and towels.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re tall as shit and I’m human-sized, so I don’t think any of your clothes will fit me,” I grunt, though I can’t help but be curious. What kind of clothing would a creature shaped like Achilles wear?
“This home used to belong to a tiefling lord,” Achilles tells me, setting me down on the floor with a dismissive gesture. “Something suitable will doubtless present itself here.”
I’m not sure I hear him right. “Wh—a tiefling? Like, Dungeons and Dragons type of tiefling?”
Achilles shrugs. “Yes. New Asidonia is generally where we thoughtforms gather, after being birthed by enough passion and collective belief. We leave your realm when we are strong enough, coming and going as we please, usually in disguise.”
“Wait, you mean tieflings are wandering around in the human world, in disguise?”
“Yes,” says Achilles, and apparently decides that I’ve had enough time standing around dawdling, and so he plucks an exquisitely blue tunic off of one of the hangers and pulls it over my head.
I splutter against fabric in my mouth, hauling in a breath when my face is free. “What else is wandering around out there? What are you?”
“I am a gargoyle,” Achilles tells me, pushing my arms through the respective holes as though I were little more than a doll.
I know my eyes are bulging. I can’t help it; my whole world has been turned on its head. I don’t even have it in me to complain about his manhandling. “Aren’t gargoyles supposed to—I don’t know—be asleep during the day? Turn to stone or something?”
“Only when we are very young, and then it is not so much sleep as it is a state of hibernation. Gargoyles have no need for sleep.”
I go still, cogs turning in my head as I watch him pick out a suitable pair of trousers. “So you were awake all last night? All the time I was asleep, you were just lying there like a creep?”
Achilles gives me a strange look. “Is that so off-putting?”
“Yeah, actually. I’d rather my bedmate be asleep if we’re not—“ Oh, well, now I’ve just gone and put my foot in my mouth. I feel heat creeping up into my face when Achilles smirks, and I narrow my eyes at the gargoyle with a scowl so thunderous it borders on pouting. “Don’t.”
“Would you rather I have done something else last night whilst we were in bed?” he asks, lifting one of my legs so suddenly that I nearly pitch backwards.
I cling to his horns to keep myself from falling on my ass, gritting my teeth as some of the jagged points dig into my palms. “I said, ‘don’t’.”
Achilles chuckles and helps me into the trousers he’s picked out for me. “I would never have touched you in that manner while you were under the influence of alcohol.”
“Oh, so chivalry isn’t dead,” I grumble, releasing his horns when I have my feet underneath me again. “As if anything could happen. Last I looked, you don’t have anything going on downstairs.”
Achilles meets my eyes, lifting a sardonic brow. “My phallus is sheathed.”
“Oh my fuck,” I gasp, choking on a gurgle of something like laughter. “Please don’t call it a phallus. That is the least sexy thing you could refer to it as.”
“As opposed to?” he prompts, and once again, I find myself hoisted up into his arms and carried out of the room.
“I can walk, you know,” I grouse, though I have to admit—at least privately—that it feels good to be carried around like a newlywed over the threshold.
“Answer my question.”
I jerk my head up to look at him, shocked. “What? You can’t be serious. You’ve never heard of ways to refer to your own anatomy?”
“I have,” says Achilles, sweeping into an enormous room decorated floor to ceiling in sturdy, dark bookshelves and plush, comfortable-looking armchairs. “I would like to know what you prefer to hear.”
My face flames, but this whole situation isn’t getting any less weird, so I throw my inhibitions to the wind. “‘Cock’, I guess. Or ‘dick’. Hell, I’ll even accept ‘prick’ if I’m turned on enough. Anything but ‘phallus’.”
“Duly noted,” Achilles rumbles, carefully depositing me in an armchair and leaving me to peruse the stacks nearby. I’m not content to be toted around like a toddler, so I get up and start to look around as well, though I quickly realise that there isn’t much that I can actually read.
“What language is this?” I ask as I pull a volume from the shelves, and Achilles looks across the room at me curiously.
“I believe that’s post-modern Atlantean,” he says from where he’s leafing through a book, flicking carefully through its yellowed pages.
“At—Okay, now I know you’re shitting me. Atlantis exists?”
“Existed,” Achilles reveals, gesturing towards a desk at the far end of the room with a graceful sweep of his wing. “There are enchanted spectacles in the desk drawer, though they are too small for my nose. I suspect they will fit yours perfectly.”
“Enchanted to do what?” I ask, though I can’t help but approach the desk as my curiosity overcomes me. When I open the desk drawer, there is indeed a small pince-nez situated amongst other office trappings like quills and jars of coloured ink.
“It will allow you to read whatever you wish,” says Achilles, looking back at the book in his hands. “I am afraid I have not seen fit to have its enchantments appraised.”
“Huh,” I say, warily easing the pince-nez before my eyes and looking down at the cover of the book I’d picked up. I’m startled but not entirely surprised to find that I can read the letters now, though there’s an odd shimmer to them if I focus too hard. “The Secret Life of Oispentals. Weird. Thanks.”
“You are most welcome,” Achilles rumbles, making his way over to the biggest armchair and settling in with an odd shuffling of his wings.
“Did you have that chair custom made?” I ask, curling up in the armchair closest to my own size. There are others around the room of varying sizes, and I wonder at their disparities.
“If I had, I would have requested notches for my wings,” Achilles points out, looking up and around the room as though sharing my thoughts. “The lord who lived here hosted guests of many sizes and races. Perhaps this seat was crafted for an orc or a minotaur.”
By now, I take those tidbits in stride. “Will I ever get to meet these other races, or am I going to be kept secluded in this castle for the rest of my life?”
My words startle a laugh out of Achilles, warm and rich with amusement. “This is hardly a castle. It is a manor—one on a very large estate, at that—but it is no castle.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Whatever. My question stands. What do you plan to do with me?”
The book in Achilles’ hand snaps shut. He stands and places the tome on the seat of his chair, and then he’s advancing on me again, stalking towards me like he is a large predator and I’m little more than a rabbit caught in a snare. My mouth goes dry as he rests his hands on the armrests of my chair, leaning in so that we’re eye to eye.
“I plan to keep you,” he quietly replies, voice little more than a sibilant purr that makes me shiver where I sit. “All of you, all to myself, for the rest of time. I will feed you, keep you warm in the bed we share, and when you are ready to take me, I will breed you like the whore that I know that you are.”
I should be angry. I should be outraged at his insinuations, raising my voice and pushing him out of my personal space. I should be running for the hills.
Instead, I find myself going limp beneath his heated gaze, my heart hammering in my heaving chest. I feel dizzy with the sudden desire that washes over me, and I have to swallow before I can make myself look away, submissive in the face of his prowess. This time, when he turns my head to face him, his touch is firm and almost brutal, and I make a strangled noise in the back of my throat.
“Is that understood?”
I nod.
He squeezes my jaw until I whimper. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I choke out, book falling from my fingers as I reach up to take hold of his wrist in a silent plea for mercy.
“‘Yes’ what?” he rumbles, and his nictitating membranes flicker once over his eyes.
“Yes, sir,” I breathe, and he eases his hold. In the next instant, his lips are crushing mine in a kiss that’s just as much punishment as it is reward, but before I can make myself do more than scramble at his chest, he draws away.
Achilles picks up his book as he makes his way out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at me as I struggle to catch my breath. “You are free to do as you wish for the remainder of the day,” he says from the doorway, and then he’s gone, leaving me flushed and wanting in the middle of the library.
Bastard.
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The Seeker (High Elf Boyfriend) 2
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Relationship: Male Monster x GN Reader
Words: 2,211
Part 1 
The Man In The High Tower Part 2
All great things are preceded by chaos.
He had disappeared for a week—or that’s what you believed. Alone and forgotten, like the many books old and worn.
It was as if his entire existence lapsed into nothingness: a blank slate anyone new could use to replace the old. The only thing that felt so odd about it all was the presence of him he left behind.
He was gone, and with it, your guide lending you a hand along the way.
Your trail back from his secluded garden was looped and drawn out with remembering the route back inside, finding the twisted truth that awaited you once back indoors. The library of books had shuddered and creaked as if all simultaneously being opened, the low groan of the heavy doors slammed behind you, its deafening cry continued for awkwardly through the empty tall walls.
Yet, all you did was sit in your usual chair, waiting for him like a lap dog.
Your dinner appeared before he did whilst you were heavy in thought, yet the promise of his return had disappointed you, leaving your eyes to wander; drawn to the higher shelves you needed access to.
When you returned to bed that same night, there was a dreadful feeling settling in your gut, twisting and growing obvious the more you panicked.
The Seeker was good at hiding, you learnt. And you weren’t very good at finding him.
Your days were filled in with lonely training, imagining shadows that eclipsed shelves in dark corners, empty cold spots whenever you would sort through books on their shelves, whispers of your name, clear and drawn, followed by an unexpected breeze, tickling the back of your neck. You thought you would truly go mad if any days would continue, following the same routine day in and night without a glimpse of the man you surprisingly missed.
By the seventh day of his withdrawal, you had found your way to archives, hidden between lonely stacks of large books too big to fit, a pedestal ancient and crumbling, pages upon pages of paper fluttered to the floor in precise disorder.
Someone had been here last. You noted, stepping in closer, too curious for your good.
The book that sat open had no title on the front, its thousands of pages were written in old and no language you could understand. But the one thing you could see were thousands of names, each with a date that took up four columns on each page, reaching to the end and filling impressively.
The last page that was left when you flicked to it was still in need of filling up, dates so foreign to you, they didn’t seem of a time you could remember. And the names—all unique and different to the previous, none common you could pronounce if given a chance to speak aloud.
On the last line, the date and name of the final person, eloquently written:
346 AG, Taeral Elsinahl
There was a following flicker of light that encased the back wall of the small corner, taken over by the rumble of books, some falling to the ground as you were running the other way out before you had the chance to see what else would happen.
You rounded the corner to come back out of the maze of books, bumping into something hard, a small oof wheezing out from you, caught in the arms of the strangers. Strange, they seemed familiar. It was only when you blinked out of confusion, taking in their appearance.
“Why is it you’re always bumping into things?” The copper-haired man softly drawled.
You spluttered for the right words, stepping out from his arms quickly, “What—where the hell have you been? Where did you go?”
“Apologies,” the Seeker dryly added. “I had business elsewhere.”
“Business elsewhere to leave without telling me? For seven days?” You could feel your cheeks rush with blood, head boiling with frustration. If anything, slapping the man in front of you would bring some sense back into his dense brain.
“You seemed to be doing just fine. I checked in on you occasionally.” He was overlooking his library, eyes squinted in concentration. “You didn’t put the books in the right order.”
“My apologies, I had other things to worry about.” You rolled your eyes. “Like how to manage a tower and not run it into the ground.”
The Seeker didn’t answer to you, already reshuffling books in the correct order, arms stacked with them. “And some people think it’s easy.” He sent you a sideways glance, amber eyes shiny with subtle amusement. “No—somehow you managed to do better than anyone has done before.”
Not only had his words curiously piqued your interest, but he had complimented you on your intended isolation. You were ready to spew more questions about the past of the tower and him, but he had already run his mouth quick of his questions. “Speaking of which, what were you doing in archives? They are specifically off-limits.”
“I was trying to enhance my training, and it happened to be unlocked when I tried for the gate.” You nonchalantly answered though you weren’t certain yourself as to why. “I have more questions about the tower… about you.”
He sighed heavily. “Go on.”
Wracking your fingers together, you finally sought the correct words, “That book, in archives, why did it have so many names? And why did they stop?”
His hair swished when he turned to face you properly, eyes glinting with what you could describe as pride. “They aren’t just any names. They were the previous owners of this tower, given the title of Seeker respectfully.”
You stared up at him in awe, puzzle pieces coming together. “So… that last name on the page, that was-”
“Yes, Taeral Elsinahl. That is my given name. I have been in ownership of this tower for the last millennia.”
His name tumbled out your mouth softly, a jumble of words you had no hope in trying to pronounce correctly. “How did you get ownership then?”
“That will be another topic for another day.” Taeral scolded, sleeves billowing and swaying as he walked off. “Come, there is something I must show you.”
-
Taeral- his name was still something you were trying to remember- had led you through to a part of the tower you weren’t aware of. Winding corridors that didn’t seem to join anything other parts, the west wing was a new part that was all for your eyes to take in.
“It’s beautiful.” The walls were made from obsidian, spiralling upwards and taken by the encrusted sapphire ceiling. It was a small room, only spared with few books, some with covers you could recognise; separated by a large workbench, covered with tools and trinkets.
Taeral was the first to get himself comfortable, signalling you to come further inside. “This is where you will be training next.”
You didn’t mean for the long groan to leave your lips, but by the time the elf had snapped his head to you, eyes narrowed, you knew you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking out. “Training, studying, dinner then sleep. That’s it. Repeated day in and night. Am I any closer to becoming better or are you just using me?”
“You have become so much more.” He stated, revealing his pale hand through his long sleeve, beckoning. “It’s time to put your learning to the test.”
Your head was pounding, eyes red and tired, questions and frustrations froze when from his other hand, he revealed a jagged edge, pointed and curved, silver-tongued and sharp.
You stepped back instinctively, “What—why are you—”
“Time to show me if your training was all retained.” Taeral took a tighter grip with both hands, holding the sharpened edge at arm’s length from him. “Show me if you are meant to be a healer.”
You leapt but staggered, screeches of protest leaving your mouth but too late when he had plunged it, handle sticking out of him as the elf was already crumbling to the ground with a short grunt.
Your instincts pulled you to his wound, applying pressure to the lower part of his stomach, soaked from his blood. Red, pure red. Raw and destructive.
“What—what can I do?”
Taeral’s health had already begun to look worse by the passing seconds, skin wan and frail than usual, eyes sunken and half-dead. His good hand came to grip your bloody ones, squeezing with emphasis. “You’re ready.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” he wheezed, eyes closing momentarily. “I know you can do it.”
You set to gather things, wary to leave him in the as you gathered items surrounding you. The book you remembered from previous searches, gathering them as you moved beside him once more. Taeral was slumped in the corner of the small room, breathing heavily and eyes dazed and glossy. “I’m here, Taeral.” You whispered reassuringly, overlooking him quickly, mind running with too many thoughts. You tried your best to prop him up against the wall, gathering gauze and wrapping around him as best as you could, not yet removing the blade from him.
You silently recited the words and instructions over and over in your head, quietly, eyes flicking from foreign words to his body, hand shakily holding his wound, lightly hovering.
Finally, with a clear, calm voice, you spoke over him. “Instauro.”
You awaited its conjuring, yet nothing came from it. Nothing but blood seeping heavier through his clothes, staining his hands as he spluttered loudly.
“No, no, no. Why is this not working?” You panicked, rereading the words again and repeating it again, and again… until you were kicking the book away in disgust, pulling your attention to the crumpled, still man.
“Taeral, please, stay with me.” Your hands ached, blood bright on your hands, his blood, and you felt your vision blur with tears. “I can’t do this! I can’t! Please, Taeral! Talk to me.”
There was no stopping the days of frustrations pouring out from your eyes and heart, leaning over the elf’s body like a heap of rubbish, crumbling over him protectively. Time didn’t seem real in those moments, overlapping and slowing down—before someone was pulling you out from your panic, a gentle hand shaking you around.
“A slightly chaotic performance… but I’ll give extra points for the sentimentality.”
You scoffed, sitting up, and to your horror, his eyes were opened, neutral and calm, your hands still on him. No words came to your mind, instead, slapping him a little too harshly against his chest, earning a heavy grunt from the elf. “You—you were fine all along? You piece of shit, I thought you were dying.”
“Not very nice words to say.” Taeral sighed, pulling the blade out from his chest with ease, already, the open wound began to close in on itself, white magic pooling through, encasing it until nothing of its existence remained. “It takes more than a flimsy knife to get rid of me.”
When Taeral stood, his eyes were cast with what you could only describe as disappointment. “We will try again tomorrow.”
“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.” You snapped. “You leave like it’s nothing, without telling me. You pull that stunt on me like it's nothing to worry about. Why are you doing this? To put me off from my dreams?”
He was noiseless, steady as an unmoving rock, the unknown breeze returning to touch at the ends of his hair. “I’m preparing you for the wider world, dear.” Your cheeks rouged at the sudden term of endearment, the first of its kind. “I don’t want you to be haunted by what you could witness in this potential career.”
You sniffled. “What do you mean?”
There was dread written on his face, haunting and present, washing over his face. “The horrors, I’ve seen them. What carnage can do to a man, a civilisation. History is always moving forward, but events return like bad omens, staining the land for centuries. That is why this tower shall remain, retaining the events for not one more to happen, or if I’m not around to see its toll, I pray someone else will know.”
He turned back to you, stroking your hair out your face with a neural thoughtful look. “You’re too pure for this world. I don’t want you tainted from its horrors.”
Your mind hurt, your limbs aflame, “Who else knows of this knowledge?”
“Anyone still alive and breathing.” He scoffed wryly. “But for that, I count only two. Myself and—”
“Me.”
“Correct.” He said tautly, before gingerly encasing your hand with his own. “If there’s one thing I do know, it’s of your greatness, the future that awaits you. I can feel it.” The corners of his neutral face pulled his thin lips up slightly, yet his eyes held the most softness of all. “We will get through this. Together.”
You stared down at your entwined hands, flesh warm oddly from what you imagined was from the constant cold and frigid air, fluttering your stomach and hearing the same.
“I know,” you said dejectedly, wiping your fingers of his blood onto your skirt. “I wish to go to bed. There is still much more I need to do.”
-
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(I dunno if you are still doing stuff sorry)
How about a mordeo who falls for someone but show their affection different than the mordeo queen since they are more feral?
Oooh, yes! I’d love to!
Just a friendly reminder tho, the inbox is closed while I try to catch up on requests.
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(Romantic) The Mordeo/reader headcanons
It’s one thing for The Queen to become attached to a human. She’s not entirely driven by hunger, so she can distinguish between different emotions. It’s another thing entirely when a drone Mordeo finds a human they think is worth keeping alive.
The other Mordeo will not be as easy to keep away from you as they are with The Queen’s human. They don’t see you as someone else’s mate — they see you as leftovers. You’ll have a hell of a time trying to avoid them, and if the Queen finds out about you and your partner, your partner may unfortunately be exiled. Because of this, I would not recommend a cabin in the woods to stay close to your partner — maybe have a few neighbors within a short running distance and have your backyard facing the woods.
It’s very odd, but you’ve somehow been able to distinguish which howl is your partner’s. Maybe it’s because they do a more subdued version of it around you when they’re happy — it’s like a small bellow when you two snuggle or go on runs. I also imagine that Mordeos purr, because purring monsters make my brain happy and just…come on, who wouldn’t like a Mordeo laying in their lap and purring away?
As happy and carefree as your Mordeo might be when you’re together, that all goes out the window when you both are in the woods. Every twig snapping is another Mordeo stalking you, and they will not lower their haunches until you’re back safe in your house. Your neighbors will occasionally mention seeing a weird deer thing prowling near the houses, but you just smile and nod along and pretend you know nothing. Can’t have the government coming after the bae. No-no. That’s not happening.
I imagine that your Mordeo would like to bring you spoils of their latest hunts, so you might be given a severed body part or a dead animal when they come to see you. They don’t understand you can’t eat them at first, but even after you’ve gotten the message across they continue to bring things. But now the kinds of gifts have changed — now you get cool-looking rocks, pointy sticks, clothes people have left behind… and an occasional body part. They know you don’t eat what they eat, but it’s their way of showing they care.
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sp00kworm · 5 months ago
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Evo-23
Pairing: Zombie/Infected (Ji-woon) x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Gore, Horror, Cannibalism, Graphic Gore and Wound descriptions, Death. 
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“Consider it a harmless improvement of human evolution!”
“It’s a disaster waiting to happen. It is barely tested and not ready for human use. The rewriting of the genetic code was banned for so long for this very reason!”
“And who’s to say it’s a good idea now?”
“It’s truly just a simple splicing technique. Consider the eradication of cancer and genetic diseases!”
“A disaster. An abomination to God.”
“This, my good sir, is God’s great plan.”
They made the Others, then they made the epidemic. 
 You looked at his face. Again, and again, you looked at his face replaying on the small screen, running on what juice was left in the generators you had managed to salvage from the quarantine hospital camps they had set up when it all started. His bald, freckled head, and the glasses you wished you could snap and stamp on. Cold brown eyes. He’d known and done nothing.
“Just a simple rewriting of DNA code.” You uttered as you pushed your spoon into the syrup of the tinned peaches you were eating. It tasted good enough, but it was pushing close to the expiry date on the top of the sawed open metal. Soon you would be struggling you knew. The risk of botulism would be high the longer you carried on eating canned food after the dates. You hoped that wouldn’t happen. You prayed as you checked the date and sighed with relief. Canned peaches just tasted too good. Along side it you had managed to find some very stale looking crackers, but it was a meal almost for a king in the squalor you had been suffering for the past two years. Syrup dripped over your chin before you wiped it away and slapped the recording off.
 The papers had raved about the new viral technique to removing cells, DNA and disease from humans. Rat, dog, rabbit and pig research had all gone well, showing promising signs for the virus vector to be used in all walks of life. Chimps had suffered few effects. One in every hundred had suffered mania effects, easily glazed over and removed from the public eye before the method was patented properly and set to human subjects. It was then that the issues started. Isolated manic episodes, bleeding from the nose and eyes, total loss of motor function before the body was paralysed and the blood vessels collapsed. It killed people. Five participants were killed. It killed their cancerous tumours but then it killed everything else. There was something different after that. Then the bodies started digging their way out of graves. It was covered up. Again, and again, bodies went missing in the night until one of them was gone. The cases carried on after that, bleeding eyed screaming creatures running through hospitals, cold and dead, but moving completely from memory. Then there had been the Others. The Others had evolved. Humans whose DNA had fully incorporated with the virus. They were stronger, immortal and just as dead as the rest, except they were not stupid. They didn’t run after heat and blood; they hid and took what food they wanted. They could think.
 Since the days of the beginning of the end, the Others had taken territory, carving it up for themselves as they saw fit, each with their own group of mindless brain rots. You’d done well to avoid them. They preferred it when it was cooler now as the summer sun rotted their flesh faster than it could heal itself. The heat was, for once, your friend. It didn’t solve the issue of your boiling apartment, but air conditioning was a dream you had in the night now. You’d rather the heat than the memories of the last snow, perfectly preserving hibernating zombies under the ice in the wilderness while the city zombies roamed without the risk of rotting and collapsing in heaps of half broken bones and stringy flesh. The Others roamed wild in the winter, tearing people apart while it was cool before disappearing into the subways in the heat of spring and summer. Hopefully it meant you could search for a few more supplies on the next run. You needed some plant pots and seeds if you wanted to survive, and hopefully some more drinking water.
 As you finished the can of peaches, you looked outside at the bright sunshine and grabbed for your bag by the couch. It was heavy with supplies, and you rummaged around for the small sandwich bags with pens for if you did manage to find seeds. You shoved the supplies together, along with a bottle of water and a few cereal bars before you grabbed the bush axe you had found, wrapped tightly with cord so you could hold it tightly and not send it flying. Failing that you had a bat and a small knife. You shouldered the backpack and mentally wrote a list as you headed to the door, pulling away your carefully made barricade. There was a small trap you had, and you set the bear trap across the threshold, covered by a sheet. The final touch was the swinging chair you set on the latch before you closed the door and locked it. The hallway was clear, you’d made sure to barricade each end, and you sighed softly before heading to the stairs and locking the doors behind you again, setting the boards back up against the door before you quietly headed towards the exit and out into the streets, into the blistering summer heat and rubble.
 The streets were dead. Silent except for the rustling of rotting plastic flying across the abandoned roads. The infected were down below, their shuffling and groans emanating from the sewers below. The rest were dozing in cool shade, swaying back and forth, their eyes gone and the skin of their faces gaunt. The Others didn’t look like that, or so you had been told before the rest of the survivors disappeared. The Others were covered in burst vessels, bruised and pale, cold. Their noses bled and their eyes did too, but they were black eyed and vicious, their voices replaced with snarls and clicks. They were terrifying. You’d been lucky enough to avoid them so far. You took a deep breath of dusty air before tugging at the scarf over your head and peering through the mucky glass window of the hardware store. Inside was dusty and grubby, the shelves mostly empty at the entrance from the looting when it all started. Otherwise, it seemed empty. You hoped you were right as you headed towards the back fire exits and tried the handle bars.
 The two around the side clicked but jingled with the sound of chains. They opened a couple of inches before the chains went taught and kept it from opening any further. You sighed and left them, closing the doors again before you carried on around the back of the building and found the employee entrance and exit. You took a breath and opened the door carefully. It swung open to reveal a dark warehouse. The cages of stock were mostly untouched. You grinned in victory before you turned on your pump power torch. It lit up the interior to reveal the cages of soil, wood and other items like watering cans and pots. Plastic pots, seeds and some planting soil. You needed those things, and a water purifier. If you were lucky, people had bunkered down here and you would be able to find some unopened water bottles. It was a long shot, but it was something you desperately needed besides food resources. You took a step inside and listened before grabbing a few bricks from outside and propping the door open, unaware of a pair of black eyes watching you.
 The warehouse was devoid of infected, and you were thankful as you searched the aisles of cages and bins for what you wanted. Light, deep plastic pots and a small bag of soil. You needed to be able to carry your things home. You found a few plastic planters quickly and then set about finding seeds, coming through several tote boxes of packets before you grabbed vegetables and fruits of various kinds. They were barely in date, but hopefully something would grow. You shoved the seeds away and picked up your planters and a small watering can, smiling at the little elephant nose on it before fastening it to your bag. Shouldering a small bag of soil, you then quickly did a search for water bottles. To your delight there was a pack of 2L bottles. It was too much to carry but you took a couple in your bag and stashed the rest behind a brick pile outside to collect later. Making sure it was well hidden, you kicked the bricks away from the door and shouldered your bag and grabbed the pots once again before moving as quietly as you could back around to the front of the hardware store. It was still quiet, but the sun was hanging low in the sky, indicating that it was close to being dark. The dark brought cold, and that let the infected walk around without their limbs dropping from their bodies.
 You reached your tower block before the night truly set in, dragging the soil up the stairs as you barricaded the doors between you and the exit. You reached your own floor and set the barricades against the door before you sighed quietly and reached for your own door. You unlocked it and carefully inched it open far enough to take the chair snare trap off the handle, lowering it before you leaned down and looped it back on the door. The bear trap was still set, and you inched around it before setting down the day’s findings in the middle of the living area. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, and you grabbed the box of protein and cereal bars you had pilfered, along with the survival food pouches. They were rich in carbohydrates and protein, so they would be good when you were very low on food. You stashed everything away before chewing on a protein fruit bar happily. You looked at the seed packets and smiled as the clouds moved over and thunder rumbled in the distance. It meant rain. You looked through the packets as you chewed and happily started to pick veggies to get growing before the rain rolled over. They needed to be out on the small balcony to get watered by the incoming bad weather.
 The night was filled with the crash of lightning and the rumble of thunder, which covered the groans of the zombies wandering around below, rotting and stinking of the sewers. Still, you got a little sleep between the storms, sleeping lightly in the corner of the room, tucked underneath your little fortified area. The bed you’d used to make barricades and weapons if all else was lost. You woke with a start as the handle to your room jiggled up and down. The infected didn’t have such capacity. You rushed out of the small blanket and pillows to grab for your axe, strapping o your stolen police vest before you headed to the little entry way. Your bear trap and chair trap were still set. With a deep breath, you stood ready by the door as the lock opened with a clunk and the handle went down again. The door opened quickly, and you gasped at the creature stood in the doorway, heaving blood from its mouth before it leaned back, and fresh blood dripped from its black eyes. It was once a human, but it was now one of The Others. It clicked and stepped back to dodge the knife strapped chair, slamming the wood down from its pulley in the ceiling with one great slap of its hand. Black eyes looked forwards, and it clicked again, blood dripping from the corner of its mouth as it dashed forwards. Clumsily, its foot slid over the bear trap, and the trap snapped shut tightly around its ankle.
 The Other howled a great series of violent clicks, tugging its leg before it fell to its knees and pulled at the metal, heaving the two rows of sharp teeth apart with shaking arms. You acted then, yelling as you slammed the axe down towards its head. He caught the handle, letting the bear trap snap back shut around his ankle as he fended you off, clicking and gurgling.
“What the fuck?” You gasped as you tugged your axe away violently and went to strike again, aiming for the temple. Again, the Other caught your swing, clicking in upset as the bear trap tore its flesh open to the bone, exposing the black stained tissue underneath its skin. An all too human face looked up at you as it pushed your axe away again, black eyes bleeding red. The Other was dark haired, the black tangled mess falling to just under his chin, though his eyebrows were sparse. The same seemed to have befallen his eyelashes, and you looked at the pale, almost alien face as you panicked. It was once a man. Slowly, it reached for the bear trap again.
“NO!” You shouted, and to your surprise, the Other looked at you, its bruised fingers releasing the mechanism for a second time as it gurgled more blood and licked its teeth and eyed the bare flesh exposed from your sleep wear.
 The Others still craved flesh and blood. They still needed human cells to survive. Their own bodies were lacking in the vital building blocks of life. Stem cells. The had been seen licking the marrow from bones and pulling open children regularly in search of such treats. Those, it was thought, were the key to their regeneration. The Other looked at your legs and you hopped back a step, as though to hide the long bones full of marrow from his sight.
“Why…” You struggled to find your voice, “Why haven’t you killed me already?”
The Other looked at you, his head tilted far to the left, as though he was listening to you. The creature reached towards you and pointed then curled his fingers back towards himself and gurgled shortly before he reached back to his ankle again and tried to winch open the bear trap. His arms went tight as he heaved the metal teeth apart, slamming either side down onto the laminate. He was free. You took another step back and gripped the axe tighter as the Other got to his feet, his shattered bones clicking back together before the wound closed and his bruised, pale skin recovered the black flesh inside.
 The Other clicked again, his head tilting left and right, fingers twitching and eyes rolling. He was looking at you, watching you breathe and move as he moved left and right on his legs. In moments, he was healed, but he still stood by the bear trap and watched. Blood dripped from his nose, weaving a trail over the cupids bow of his lips before it dripped over his sickly purple lips and into his mouth. His tongue dipped out to lick it away. His lips pealed backwards in a smile as he clicked and gurgled again. In a flash, he had moved towards you, his hands slamming either side of your head, pinning you against the wall. His teeth flashed by your skin, blackened and sharp, his mouth filled with clots of his own blood. Another gurgle came from his throat as he sniffed the left and right side of your neck with blood dripping from his nose. A drop landed on your chest, rolling over the skin and into your shirt as the Other clicked again, reaching for you with a grubby and bruised, blood-stained hand. The cold hand wrapped around your throat in a quiet threat, and the Other continued to look you up and down, fingers dragging against the warmth of your flesh.
 They like warm flesh enough to come out in the sunlight.
 “Are you going to cut me open and peel out my bones?” You asked as you looked at the door, avoiding the snarling face in front of you. Black eyes wiggled back and forth for a moment before the Other opened its mouth, the sharpened teeth flashing over your shoulder before it took an unsteady step backwards, ear tilted towards the windows. It was dark, and thunder clapped in the distance again before the sound of rain filled the apartment once more.
The Other shook his head slowly as his head twisted back, his back bending backwards as he slumped and peered out at the rain. He dragged his ruined foot behind him as he went to the window and looked down at the wet streets below, his black eyes watching the infected below wade through the water and rubbish. Another long, low click sounded from his throat before he turned his dark eyes on you again, blinking slowly before he picked up his leg and looked at the torn fabric of his jeans. The wound had healed, leaving a faint trace of dark red, almost black blood on his bruised skin. His arm moved, but this time it was to wipe the blood from his nose away on his sleeve. His arm came away streaked with fresh blood, but he still peered outside, looking at the meandering bodies outside in the rain.
 “What are you looking at?” You asked from against the wall as the Other twitched by the window and clicked again. His black eyes moved from the glass to your face and then back again before he reached into his pocket. His dead fingers wiggled around for a while before he pulled out a long lanyard and presented the card to you. There was a dark-haired man on the picture, his hair slicked back, the sides shaved with a pair of glasses sat on his nose.
“Ji-woon.” You read carefully from where you were, “Is that who you were?”
The Other looked at you, studying your face before he raised a fist to his shoulder and nodded it with his head. You looked at the lanyard carefully, noticing the faded and stained academy logo. The badge confirmed it. He was a teacher before everything. Once he was human. Once he was a teacher. Now he was one of the Others.
“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked again, “You want to eat my bone marrow, right?”
The Other looked at you again, blood dripping from his eyes and spit clinging to the side of his mouth. He opened his mouth, gurgled again, clicked his tongue and then moved back towards you. His black eyes caught the light of a lightning bolt and you reached for your axe with a small yelp.
 The axe was thrown from your grasp before you could get a grip on it. The Other clicking as he dragged you by the wrists onto the floor. The axe clattered away, and you flinched as his fingers found the straps of the tactical vest, plucking them away violently before he dragged the material and plating away, leaving you exposed in just your pyjamas. Wiggling, you tried to free yourself from his grasp to no avail. Blood from his eyes dripped down the sides of his nose and onto the material of your shirt, staining it a deep, dark red. You closed your eyes as he let out another series of low clicks and drew closer to your shoulder. If he didn’t eat you, you would turn, just like the rest. A bite from an Other would make you one of his thrall or another like him. Another one of the Others.
“Kill me then. Just don’t let me turn. I want to die.” You whispered as you closed your eyes tight. The Other clicked again, a slow series of articulates noises that disappeared into a whine, not unlike a dog.
 Then the arms caging you to the floor slipped downwards. His nails dragged away curls of wood as the Other let his hands travel, his fingers ghosting over your skin again in a meandering pattern downwards. You flinched as he pinched the flesh around your middle, tugging hard before they continued down your stomach and over your legs. He shifted backwards in order to look at your legs. His black eyes rolled over the flesh as spit, mixed with blood, leaked from the corners of his mouth. The slobber dripped over your calves, but you didn’t dare move as his cold fingertips traced under the arch of your foot and then grabbed hold of your ankle. He held it in a bruising grip, his fingers wrapped tightly around the flesh, strangling the blood flow. It hurt and you let out a cry as he twisted it around, tugging the joint awkwardly.
“Please.” You sniffled on the floor as he dragged you back towards him. You wiggled only to have his hand slam on your middle, winding you before he pressed you back to the floor again.
He opened his mouth, wheezed, coughed and then gurgled, “P-Please.”
 Your eyes shot open as the Other released your ankle with a frown, his hairless eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. His lips quivered again, dipping up and down before he swallowed and shook, blood spraying from his nose. The droplets landed over your floor and streaked up the Other’s cheeks in wild, spider web patterns. Stumbling, he dragged himself upwards and touched his own lips.
“P-Please.” he gurgled again, a deranged smile spreading across his face.
“Don’t mock me.” You wept at him, wiping your face as you struggled for your axe, your fingers slipping around the handle as he leaped on you again. A smiling face covered in blood loomed over you before he gurgled, clicked and growled, holding his throat before angrily thumping at his Adams apple. The Other wheezed and coughed blood over your chest before he reached into his pocket again, teeth clicking, and pulled out the lanyard to show you. You shook your head before he tapped the photo on the plastic then tapped his own blood covered cheek.
 You laid there in confusion, looking up at the drooling monster before you found your voice.
“That’s you before this. Ji-woon. You were a teacher.” You declared quietly, whispering into the thunderstorm.
The Other turned the card back to himself and touched the photo and then his own hair, his cold fingers tangling in the matted mess that hung around his cheeks. It was nothing like the slicked back, side shaven style he once wore, and he seemed to realise that as he tugged at the hair and pulled away a small clump. He wasn’t alive anymore. He was only alive thanks to his constant need to eat the flesh of the living. His victims stem cells and other living tissue was why he was a walking corpse beyond the others. An agonised cry left his lips, and the Other clutched at his own hair as he slumped over you, his teeth clicking dangerously close to your shoulder.
“You’re not him anymore.” You whispered again, reaching up with shaking hands. You sniffled as you reached and carefully took hold of his face, feeling the piercing coldness of his skin. Blood stuck to your palms as the Other raised it head enough to look from side to side, his black eyes quivering back and forth as he looked at your hands cupping his face.
“So, if you’re in there, Ji-woon, I’d rather you end me quickly...r-rather than play with me like a cat.” You sobbed.
 The Other let the card of his lanyard clatter to the floor, the dirty fabric of the lanyard laid over wooden floor. There was another deafening crash of lightning and rumble of thunder as the Other stumbled backwards, his legs wobbling as his teeth clicked and ground together rhythmically. Click. Grind. Click. Grind. It was unsettling. You crawled backwards towards your weapon, only to pause as the room was lit up with lightning again, and you saw tears mingle with the blood leaking from his nose. Pink droplets dripped from his chin. The Other looked at you on the floor, then back to the windows, before he let out an unholy scream. With a cry, you covered your ears as the Other called for his thrall with tears the colour of blood dripping down his cheeks and neck. He shook his head and curled in on himself before howling again, another upsetting, glass shaking as he wailed over the sound of the storm. You reached for the axe again, crying as your ears rang with the noise of the Other’s screams. With a scream of your own, you launched yourself at him with the axe held high. Black eyes flashed before he caught you with open arms, grappling you around the middle in a hug. The axe jolted against his shoulder, falling from your grasp as you fell into his grasp.
 The Other quivered again you, his jaw grinding before he rested his nose against your neck. He was icily cold, and he wheezed cold breaths over your neck, his lips sticky against your skin. He didn’t bite you. His lips parted to let him wheeze again and he dragged his nose over the skin before he sobbed, more tears dripping down his nose. The Other pulled away, his black eyes wide and wet with more unshed tears.
“I’ve…never seen an Other cry…” You confessed as he hugged you tighter. The thunder of footsteps sounded out on the stairs as the hoard smashed themselves against the barricades leading up to your hide away, “Fuck…”
The Other kept a tight grip on you before he too heard the hoard. His eyes roved your face before he pushed you towards the window and fumbled with the clasps. He opened the window and you peered at the rain, and then at his face. He said nothing but you knew what he wanted. The fire escape. You ducked out of the window and perched yourself in the rain, underneath the stairs to try and shield yourself as the thrall of the Other slammed themselves against your defences. The Other closed the window and entered your room again, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes wide as his creatures swarmed inside, moaning and groping at the walls, floors and him. A few paused by the window before bumping into something else and leaving. None of them cared about the Other. They couldn’t smell the warm flesh of the living, so they filtered away, down the corridors and stairs, falling and smashing things as they went.
 As the noises died down, you peered through the metal stairs and looked at the rushing water below. The zombies slowly filtered out of the building, back into the cooler moist air. You sighed as you looked at them, but shivered, sniffling in the rain and cold. A moment later, the window rattled, and the Other peered out into the rain, his black eyes haunting as they shone in the light of the lightning. With a click, he held out his hand, and you watched him reach to scoop his hair from his eyes. It was a human gesture. It made him seem human. Then the lightning flashed and lit up the blood covering his face, neck and arms. His fingernails were dirty with dried blood and mud, but he helped you into the window and clicked again softly, as though it was a noise of comfort. It unsettled you, holding his freezing cold hand as you shivered inside of the apartment. The door was closed, barricade replaced, and the chair pinned back in place at the door. He was still bleeding, and he blinked his eyes, sending two drops of blood down the stained red lines either side of his nose. With a deep breath, you grabbed a tissue from your little den and reached up to wipe the red streaks away from his face. The Other flinched at your warm touch, but let out a wheeze, letting you wipe his face free from blood and gunk.
 You pulled away with a small gasp at the sight of his pale, bruised skin. The blood vessels around his eyes ran in spidery black patterns before they disappeared under the pale, thin bruised skin of his face. He looked dead. Deathly pale and gaunt. His face had lost a lot of the colour and life it once had, though he appeared no more tired than he used to. The large eye bags seemed to be a constant factor. You reached for his ID card on the floor and carefully handed it to him. The Other held open his hand and took it from your grasp, gurgling at the picture of himself, or who he used to be, with interest. You let him hold it and watched at he wiped at his nose with the tissue you had accidentally give him alongside it. In a mockery of what you did, he slid the tissue over his nose and cheeks before he gurgled and smile with blood clot covered teeth. He wasn’t human. You repeated that as he passed you the sticky tissue back. It was covered in blood and clots.
 “Are you still in there Ji-woon?” You asked the Other quietly.
The Other shook his head as he raised the card again. It span in his grasp, giving you flashes of the image of his human face, “P-Please.” he wheezed at you, “...Help.”
“That is you. You can’t become him anymore.” You said carefully, softening the blow with a dab of the tissue under his eyes. He caught your wrist with a scowl, his unnatural eyes wiggling in their sockets, rolling left and right as he opened his mouth to expose his black dyed mouth full of clots.
“P... Please.” he wheezed again.
“I can...make you look like him but you’re not human anymore.” You tried to tug your wrist free to no avail.
 “Look.” The Other held up the ID card and tapped it again before he let you go and looked at the red marks on your arm mournfully, “J-Ji...woon.”
“The fact you can even speak amazes me.” You confessed as you looked at the bruises and blood covering him. His clothes were dirty, matted and torn, exposing his arms which had been unnaturally made larger. He was a predator of muscle and smarts now, who desperately wanted to be human again, “I can help, so long as you can keep those zombies away from me, okay?”
The Other nodded, drooling as he pointed to his ears and mouth.
“Those wails, yes. You can control them and keep them away while I help you. That and you’re big enough to just tear them open...I saw an Other do that once.”
The Other blinked owlishly but nodded once before you rummaged for a bottle of water and pointed to the bathroom, “First let’s clean you up, huh?”
He only nodded and followed at your heels like a drooling, blood covered dog.
 You managed to get a small basin to fill with water and then awkwardly got the Other to strip his clothes off. They were full of holes and disgusting. The neck was covered with blood and stiff with mud and blood. You bagged them and tied it closed as the Other stood, swaying on his dark bruise coloured feet. His mouth was dripping with drool again as he turned and looked at the water bowl in your hands.
“Come on. Sit in the tub.” You asked gently as you guided his cold body into the bath. He sat quietly, gurgling on his own blood as you fetch a towel and a small flannel. You dipped the flannel into the water and lathered it with soap before pressing it to his face. His black eyes quivered before he closed them peacefully and let you wipe the grime from his skin. Each swipe revealed more skin like cracked porcelain underneath the blood. The bruising spread from black coloured veins in his face and you were careful to clean around his nose and mouth before setting to the rest of him. It was even more embarrassing to get a zombie to clean his own privates, but something in him remembered and you left him to it before returning to try and scrub his hair.
 Most of his hair was dead, the ends snapped and fraying in clumps. So, it was with a heavy heart that you washed it and let it soak with conditioner before snipping away most of the ends. It was shorter, in a wild mane over the top of his head and the shaved sides, but he seemed happy as he peered at himself in your small mirror. You tried to tame it backwards, but the shorter pieces of hair pinged out at awkward angles. He didn’t seem to care as he wiped at his own face, clicking happily at himself in the reflection in the grubby water. He was like a child almost. Entertained by bottles, colours and smells, despite the irony blood leaking from his nose again. He wiped it away with a tissue, wet hands dampening the balled-up paper before he peered over the side of the tub and watched you pull free a few sets of clothes.
“Here. You can’t wear those rags…even though I know you don’t get cold.” The Other stood and looked at the clothing before his hands reached for a khaki green fleece. He rubbed the soft material and happily pulled it over his head before he dressed his bottom half as well.
 When he was finished and dressed you let him walk out of the bathroom. He was still bleeding from his eyes and nose but the cleanly appearance gave him an almost human look. The Other clicked and touched the top of his hair, feeling the strands before he looked at you with wide black eyes. In a sudden burst of speed, he was in your face, his teeth clacking together in front of your nose. Snap. Grind. Snap. Grind. Snap. He clicked his teeth rapidly in front of your face, drool stringing between his teeth and lips and dribbling out the corners of his mouth.
“You’re still one of them, huh?” You told him as he gurgled and coughed, fingers dancing by his sides as he twisted his head and twitched violently hard, teeth gnashing in his mouth, “You still want to eat me...”
There wasn’t a fix to his own nature. You watched him retch and fight himself before you moved through to your bedroom and rummaged through the boxes for something to use. You smiled when you found the ball gag. It was a simple thing, made of tough leather and a supple ball attached to simple metal rings. It fastened with a belt loop style fastening. It would be hard for him to chew through at least.
 The Other looked at you curiously as you returned with the gag hanging from your fingers. Something in his face twisted, as though he maybe recognised the item, but you watched his fingers twitch again and knew it was the right choice.
“I know what you might think, but this is purely to stop you eating me, okay?” You told him as you opened the fastening and presented the ball to his lips. The Other cocked his head, blinked, and then opened his mouth to accept the ball. You watched him chew the ball like a horse does a bridle before he then settled and let you fasten the back closed tightly. He sniffed, drops of blood dripping from his nose as he ground his teeth into the gag, his mouth parted and the clicks he made gurgled and muffled. It would also stop him from turning on you and summoning a hoard of infected to tear you open. It was a double protective measure. The Other shifted and touched the cool leather wrapped around the back of his head. He could easily undo it if he wanted to, but he let his hands drop and plonked himself down by your door, peering back at you as he pointed to your little bed and tent.
“Don’t eat me in my sleep.” You joked. The Other rolled his eyes as you climbed into your layers of blankets and cushions. He didn’t look at you, but stared at the door, cross legged and clicking softly to himself around the gag in his mouth.
 The next morning you woke up to the light in your eyes, and a clicking sound from by the window. As you opened your eyes you were greeted with a curious gurgle from the Other. His black eyes blinked bloody tears down his cheeks before he tilted his head and ground his teeth against the gag in his mouth. Blood painted the sides of his mouth and drool had dried in the corners of his mouth where the o-rings sat.
“Good morning to you too.” You groaned as the Other clicked in front of you and wiggled his jaw from side to side, his eyes looking over you. The exposed flesh had his mouth watering again, and you quickly hid the skin under a blanket before crawling past him and heading to the bathroom. The creature’s hungry eyes followed your legs, and the Other prowled across the wood after you, like a small dog, his gaze fixed on the exposed skin of your calves and ankles.
“M-M-Morn…ing-g.” The Other babbled around the gag in his mouth as his fingers inched along the wood, chasing after your feet. You stopped as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The cold fingers pressed into your flesh, testing the give before you dragged yourself free and slammed the door in his face. The Other grunted as his nose was smashed against the wooden door.
 When you came back out later, dressed and clean, the Other was perched by the door again, sat on the balls of his feet, perched in a crouch as he looked at the handle. The knob was twitching. You took a deep breath and carefully reached for your axe, holding the handle tightly in your grasp. The handle twitched again before the door thumped and the latch unhooked. The Other watched the door creak open. A rotten hand curled around the wooden door, and you crept forwards a step before the Other clicked and launched himself at the arm. It took you a moment to realise that his mouth was full of the gag, but it was too late. The Other grappled the infected by the neck, throwing it against the column outside of the door before his arms bulged and he slammed its head backwards, once, twice, thrice, and painted the dirty white concrete with blood, bone and brains. The blood sprayed up the concrete as he continued hammering the creatures head backwards. The initial crack became a wet thud which dissolved into a slick noise of blood and flesh as the Other dug his hands into the cranium and dragged it open, scooping his bruised fingers into the goop. His teeth gnashed on the gag, and you covered your mouth as he pulled at his own cheeks, splitting the skin so he could stick his gore covered fingers into his mouth. He gurgled happily as he scooped the brain into his mouth, followed by the sickening crunch of the zombie’s femur under his foot. He twisted the legs free at the knee and punched his way through to the bone.
 Rotten marrow dripped over his fingers, and he groaned sadly, tossing away the bleeding leg in favour of finishing the obliterated head. He struggled with the eyeballs, and you watched, gipping, as he weaved one behind his gag, through the tear at the corner of his lips, and popped it between his teeth.
“What the fuck…” You gasped behind the Other.
The Other’s eyes snapped to you, and he gurgled happily, covered in blood again, as he chewed his meal contently. As you watched him eat, you made your way back into your apartment, shaking as you uncovered a set of reigns. He was still eating as you came back and weaved them around his head and attached the ends to the O-rings of the gag. With a tilt of his head, he peered back over his shoulder and looked you in the eyes, his bloodied fingers stroking the leather up and down before you gave the back of the reigns a gentle tug.
 The Other gave a grunt and a small cry, his black hair flying out of place as he tugged at the reigns, back towards his meal. His hands stretched towards the flesh, grabbing for the brains just out of reach.
“We made a deal.” You whispered as you hauled him backwards, “You want to be a human, Ji-woon, right?!”
The Other froze, his fingers pressed into the mess on the floor by the zombie’s head. They danced in the blood for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes manic and his hairless brows furrowed.
“J-Ji…woooon.” He gurgled before he slumped backwards and grabbed at your trouser leg, his cold fingers burying themselves in the fabric. The Other gave a small wail, burying his head in your thigh as he stroked your legs and shuddered against you.
You reached down carefully and petted his hair, “Humans don’t eat…that. But we need you to live and… I know you’re not human, but we need to think about how this is going to work, okay?”
He didn’t acknowledge you, but leaned his head into your petting, pushing his choppy hair into your grasp as he clutched at you like a child.
“We’ll work through this mess, together, I promise…Ji-woon.”
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killerkissed · a year ago
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Kinktober Day 11: Hypnotism
Naga x Female Reader
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“It’s deep within these very jungles that they say he lurks, a monster among men. He’s thirty feet long with teeth like daggers filled with poison! He’ll swallow us all hole with one bite!” The guide yelled, getting into his story.
The younger kids screamed in terror. The adults on the vacation tour just laughed. It was all good fun around a fire.
How silly, you thought to yourself upon retreating to your own tent that night as everyone was going to bed. What good horror stories could do to people in the middle of the night was always hilarious. It wasn’t like it was real.
You awoke in the middle of the night. Your bladder was full. You shouldn’t have done that last jungle juice. You got up with a groan and tumbled out into the woods with just a little flashlight. You needed to just find some little spot that no one would see and be really quick. Your worst fear was a bug bite where the sun didn't shine.
You moved deep into the woods and looked back, the glow of the camp just barely a twinkle. You found it safe and relieved yourself quickly. After cleaning up, you stood up to put everything back into your bathroom bag, your light swinging from its wrist strap. You turned around and came face to face with a human like shape dangling upside down from the tree. You didn’t even have time to scream.
You were suddenly lost in a sea of colors. Only a voice whispered into your ear. “Come, dear. You will be safe. No need to scream or cry. It’s all good.”
You followed the voice. You’d follow the voice until the end of time. “I will be safe.” You whispered, reached forward to the being. You stood unflinching in front of a being as the man was no longer a man but a half of a man! The rest of his body came from the tree and flopped down, a huge snake-like body attached. The being stood before you and reached for you, caressing your skin.
“You’re so soft. Can you remove your clothes for me?”
You stripped willingly and stood before him. You felt so light and airy. Nothing else mattered.
The man moved closed to you, the moonlight casting over him like a blanket. His green eyes were swirling with different shades. You were so mesmerized by his look, the smooth skin and the broad features. You reached for him as if touching a priceless piece of art. He grinned, sharp teeth almost pulling you from your serenity. You stared as if your brain was trying to connect two and two with your hand raised in the air.
“Don’t worry, dear. You’re safe.” He coaxed, his voice like jazz music.
You touched him gently, feeling his face like you wanted to remember it forever. “Who are you?”
“A monster among men.” His words were coated in sugar, too sickening sweet. Something was wanting to click in your mind but you forgot all about it as his thick snake body started wrapping around you. The scales were a shade of pear green that would transform in different lights. You were swept away, taken somewhere deep in the intertwining veins of the jungle’s extending limbs before finding a spot to lay. He put you on his chest and released his strong hold on you. “You will please me.”
“I will please you.” You cooed, sliding up to spread kisses over his face and neck. He laid back and placed his hands behind his head, his long, unruly light brown hair pooling around him. You kissed down his body, stopping to lick and kiss his chest until you found his nipples. You sucked on them, rubbing down his body and petting his muscles. You could hear his content sounds. You wanted to hear more.
Moving further down, you moved down to his hips to find a slit. The man laughed, eyeing you from his comfortable position. “Reach in with your fingers.”
You did just so, prying the slick pocket open and reached in. You coaxed two cocks out, both semi-hard and covered in a warm fluid. You gripped one with a hand and put the other in your mouth, slurping it up immediately. It was salty and warm. Copious amounts of precum were dribbling out of them as they stiffened to full length. You inhaled his scent, licking around his tip to make sure every little spot was taking care of. Your other fist was pumping him quickly. You had no resolve, there was no issue here. You were happy, the heat pooling in your stomach. You plopped the one dick out of your mouth and then pressed the two together. You rubbed them together, mesmerized at just the sight. You pressed them to your chest, pushing them against your nipples.
“You’re such a good human.” He whispered praise to you.
You smiled at him, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You moved to try to fuck them between your tits. You cooed and sighed, dribbling drool down your chin to spit on his cocks. The man started pumping beneath you. He was getting eager which delighted you to your core. You made more of a spectacle. It didn’t matter if you needed to be quiet. You did what you thought he wanted.
“I want it in your mouth!” He sat you up, a look of concentration on his face.
You stared at him as you put both of them in your mouth. You continued pumping his shafts with both hands now and used your tongue the best you could to cover as much area as possible.
The man threw his head back, his tail thrashing behind you as he lost himself to the pleasure. He gushed into your mouth, both exploding at the same time. You jerked back in surprise and took several shots to your face. It dripped down your cheeks and chest, splattering back down on his tail and softening cocks.
He looked at you in the darkness and smiled at you. “Now that’s a good girl.”
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monsterwishes · a year ago
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Mud Masks {Daddy Orc x Female Reader}
“Almost…done!”
You lean back as Roheme’s eyes open and she gives you a toothy grin before jumping off the stool and scrambling up the other one to look in the mirror. Her eyes go wide and she squeals. “I love it! I love it! I look so pretty!”
Washing off your hands, you can’t help, but to smile at her simple antics. “It’s just a mud mask, dear.” Your partner, Sorudar, was out running some errands and needed someone to watch his little girl. Of course, you were happy to oblige because even though her father is a wonderful man and a great dad, she needed some one on one girl time. So, you decided to do a spa day until he gets back.
“Now what happens?” Roheme couldn’t stop admiring the bubblegum pink mask which actually suited her vibrant ivy green skin and obsidian black hair which was decorated with various braids and beads pulled back into the ponytail.
“We wait for it to dry and then we’ll wash it off.” You tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. “So, let’s see what we’ve done so far……” You looked at the checklist at your phone. “Bubble bath?”
“Check!” Honestly, if you weren’t mistaken this was her favorite part.
“Dancing and singing competition?”
“Check!”
“How about manicures?”
“Nope!” She jumps off the stool and stands in front of you expectantly before you grab her hand and lead her out to the kitchen.
After an hour or so, you were wiping the mud mask off of her face so she wouldn’t ruin her nails which were still drying. It was rather hard to do, not because she wasn’t sitting still, but more because of the faces she was making in an attempt to try to help you get the mask off. Which in turn was causing you to laugh.
However, the door being opened and a hearty voice stating their presence drew both of your attention away from the task at hand. “Daddy!” Roheme darts out of the bathroom and runs up to her father before spinning in a few circles and explaining all the things she learned today. Sorudar blinks in surprise and looks up at you when you step out of the bathroom, your mud mask still on your face. Giving a small smile, you lean against the wall and watch the interaction before explaining how great and helpful Roheme has been. However, you’re interrupted when Roheme grabs her father’s hand and yanks him over to the bathroom and then grabs yours as she passes you pulling everyone into the bathroom. “Come on! Let’s do a mud mask on you too! Come on!”
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sugary-mystery · a year ago
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Without Reasons Part 2
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Part 2 is here! Will Sliez keep being part of Nifai’s life? Will things go better this way? One can only hope the best in the future, but we will never know what truly will happen. As always, feedback is always appreciated, I apologize for any grammar errors. Enjoy!
|Pair: M.Goblin x GN.Reader||Citrus Scale: None| |Words: 5556||Disclaimer: Parenting, Babies, Panic Attacks, Unstable Family Background| 
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Life seemed to have left his body after I said those words. He quickly grabbed the papers and read them over and over again. Putting a hand to his forehead he continuously shook his head in negation, refusing to take what was written as anything but a mistake. 
‘’This can’t be… I-I, I thought- I truly believed-’’ he chokes on his own words, unable to get the words out of his throat. 
I could only sit there and watch him being overwhelmed by the heartbreaking realization. I knew this concerned me in a way, yet the whole issue was between the two of them, and I had made the situation even worse. ‘‘But I had to make sure’’ a part of my mind tried to argue, just to quickly be deceived with the question ‘’did I really have to?’’ adding more guilt to the mixture of regrets.
What kind of words can be spoken to offer comfort in situations like this? What kind of powerful and meaningful phrase can erase the frustration? What was I supposed to even say besides a pitiful ‘I’m sorry’ I could offer.
He sighed and tried to force a smile at me. ‘’You know, the moment I saw her I knew she was way too beautiful to be related to such an ugly creature like me’’ he tried to laugh.
‘’Sliez. I-‘’ he lifted his hand to stop me.
‘’Please stop. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say now. I need… I need time to process this if there’s anything else to do at this point’’
I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to break those damn paper, burn them and bury them in the ground to never spoke of it again just so we could go back to what we were before. He stood up and walked towards her crib, gently hugging her and kissing the top of her while whispering; ‘’you’re going to be alright. That’s enough for me’’ before tucking her back and leaving through the door without saying goodbye to me.
I grabbed the papers and finally threw them to the trash, right where they belong before going to the bathroom before going to sleep. I laugh bitterly at my reflection, this bitterness I feel is the one of self-sabotage. I wanted to be happy so badly, I wanted to get back what was taken from me all those years ago, but once I had the chance to get it… I threw it away. I truly I am… stupid.
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Over a week has passed since we last knew anything from him. I figured he needed some alone time to think what to do, reflect if this would make such a big difference, and, as much as I didn’t want to think about it, if he even wanted to come back to our lives. I tried calling him many times after but it always ended up sending me to the voicemail, I didn’t know where he lived and even if I knew I didn’t have time to go make him a visit. The suspense was killing me, the worry even more.
Since I couldn’t contact him I gave up eventually, occasionally leaving him a message just to tell him how Nifai was doing and that he could come anytime. I had to hire another babysitter to cover most of my night shifts; of course, I didn’t want Sliez back with us so I would have to pay one, I wanted desperately to see him again and Nifai missed him too. They would often go on Sundays near the central plaza just for a stroll which she loved, now she has to be held even most constantly to be calm, is like she sensed that he wouldn’t be coming any time.
On a very difficult day in which I almost get in the middle of a fight between customers and having to clean all the juice aisle by myself, I realized I wasn’t in the best mood to go back to my home yet, I didn’t want the baby to see me as a monster because I can’t get a hold of my feelings. I know how that feels and I know how kids can be affected by an adult's actions... So I asked my boss to give me the night shift too so I could get a hold of myself and relax a little, worrying about stuff the next day.
I made a call to the babysitter and asked her to stay for a little longer than expected and the day continued unadventurously; I restocked the shelves, cleaned the aisles, took the shift of the night cashier, and closed everything before I left. It felt nice to feel the night breeze, looking up I never noticed before how beautiful the night sky was, the stars seemed to be dancing in a never-ending sea. I quickly looked down and whispered to myself; ‘’Stars shouldn’t be looking this beautiful after everything that has happened. And surely I shouldn’t be smiling back at them’’. I walked back home looking at my feet the entire time. 
I was surprised to find the house alone with just a note from the babysitter saying she had a personal issue she had to take care of and couldn’t wait for me anymore, along with her bank number to make the transaction later. I went to see Nifai with a smile on my face, she was moving a lot, kicking her little legs and moving the soft blanket away from her little form. I assumed she would have been bored and cold for waiting, but to my horror, the moment I touched her face she was burning with fever. 
Her little green face was all blushed, her head and tiny hands were all hot yet her little feet were a little cold, what worried me the most were that she continued kicking and whimpering in discomfort, the moment I went to rub her belly I noticed it was swollen. I didn’t know what had happened or what to do, I started panicking the more she continued whining.
There was no time to panic, I needed help so I took her to the hospital like I did when I first found her. We took the bus to get faster, I tried to rock her to slow her now soft cries as they resonated through the bus. As if out of habit I pulled my phone to call Sliez, only to stop right in the action. ‘‘What was the point now? Wasn’t this why I end up pushing him away? Do you think he’s going to answer you after practically telling him in his face that you don’t trust him?! Don't be ridiculous, he’s never coming back’’. My thoughts started accumulating in my head like garbage, I was only able to snap out of them when Nifai grabbed my phone out of curiosity, her crying slowing for the moment. 
I marked the number, waited, and waited until the line went dead and I was sent to the voicemail again. ‘’Sliez, I’m sorry for everything. I know you must hate me right now but- I’m taking Nifai to the hospital, she’s not well and I don't know what to do. I’m, I’m so scared too. I-’’ and the line went dead. I didn’t notice I was crying, it didn’t matter to me at this point. 
I rushed inside to urgencies, asking for help from the nurse behind the desk. A doctor called her name but at the time I was too hysteric which made Nifai cry even louder, the doctor asked the nurse to take me outside the waiting room for a moment and giving me a glass of water. I sat in the waiting room, alone and still shaking. All different scenarios were the doctor will call for me telling me they to operate her, that she needs expensive medicine I can’t afford, or that she’s gravely sick would run in my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if this is how a parent should feel or if I’m just overreacting, she might have just a simple cold yet I feel the sky is falling on me.
I hear the rush of step from the distance, turning I see a familiar goblin storming through the door, his face was covered in sweat and he was clearly out of breath. He sees me and rushes towards me, I sat up and open my arms happy to embrace him, happy to have someone here with me.
‘’How’s Nifai? Is she well? Is she sick?’’
We sit back and explain everything back to him, that didn’t tranquilize him at all. We were both looking at the door, he started tapping the floor with his right foot at how impatient he was growing. Once we got called by the nurse and enter the examination room we both saw Nifai gently sleeping in the doctor’s arms.
Sliez smiled at the adorable picture, the doctor smiled back. ‘’I guess you’re the father of this sleeping beauty’’
He gulped and looked away, is still a sensitive topic but I quickly stepped forward and answered with a loud ‘yes!’, to which he just nodded with a blush in his cheeks.
‘’She probably has a virus which is why she had such a high fever’’ he proceeded to explain to us. ‘’It should last between three to five days, however if it continues please come back immediately. She was experiencing some bloating too so it would be good to consider smaller feeding portions, also’’ and he handed me a list of foods. ‘’you should consider avoiding these specific foods for at least a week until the bloating stops’’
We were sent back home with some medication for the fever and a tired baby in my arms, although once out of the hospital the two of us didn’t know what to say to the other. So many questions, so many regrets, and so much awkwardness. I was glad that he broke the silence first.
‘’Want to come to my place? Is closer and I have some instant coffee too’’
‘’Yeah, please’’
Sliez apartment was much tidier than I expected with an open concept with the kitchen to a side, the furniture were regular ones with a large couch and a huge TV, instead of a table the kitchen worktops worked as a both with seats on the opposite side. He had not many decorations in the walls but he kept it clean and smelling like orchids, there were all kinds of succulents around too.
‘’Make yourself at home. There’s coffee on the upper shelves’’
I thought he would have asked to hold the baby but he seemed hesitant. I left her napping on the couch beside him while I got the kettle started, grinning when I saw that he had labeled all the spices inside the shelves. Once again we fell into an uncomfortable silence, not really knowing how to start a conversation but dying to spoke our minds off.
‘’I’m sorry’’ I started by saying what I think is the most important. ‘’I know I hurt you by literally making you take the test, I truly trust you. I swear I do but, I don’t know why I insisted so much, maybe a part of me thought it would be for the best for Nifai’’ I laughed bitterly. ‘’But look at me now, can’t do much when she’s sick without panicking in tears’’
‘’Ya did what you think was best for her. That spoke highly of you and even now I know your intentions were for the best for her. I knew that, under your care, she’ll be in hands’’
‘’I leaned against the wall. ‘’But I hurt you, didn’t I?’’
He nodded. ‘’It did, like a fucking knife right at my chest. But I can’t blame ya for it, I got scared and pushed myself out of the picture on my own, those were my issues that kept me from opening my mouth of coming back to your house. So don’t take guilt for it, okay. We’re both sorry but’’ he cut himself before finishing. I walked to him to embrace, a hug which he did not return for a moment.
“I felt many things, to be honest. I felt angry and guilty, I felt betrayed but it made sense to me too, I even felt relieved in some way too, but I mostly felt unsure... I didn’t know what were you truly thinking about me, I wasn’t sure if I could come back, after all, we weren’t related at all and it was only my fault that I had wasted months trying to find a baby that wasn’t even my responsibility to begin with. In the end; I was hurt, you hurt me... but I couldn’t blame in any way, and I still don’t want to”
I let my tears flow, tightening my embrace.
“I’m sorry Sliez, for hurting and doubting you. I should have put the doubts aside instead of letting my worries get the worse of me!”
He chuckled but choke on it as he started to sob gently. The moment he returned the embrace I could feel it. All those sleepless nights and tiresome days were the guilt and regret ate him from the inside, all those horrible scenarios he would picture happening if he didn’t find him, and all the regrets he would have to live with if he wasn’t able to find closure to this. It was like carrying a heavy backpack, and the moment he heard me saying those words he must have felt like he was almost a fool of carrying weight it wasn’t his, and all the dreams and hope that came inside of it fell too. Frustration was the best word to describe it, and I can understand that feeling very well. I feel like a fool for not comprehending this in the beginning.
“You know, it really feels as if a spell was a broken. I thought I felt this pull because I had such a strong connection with her, only to find out we weren’t connected at all”
“Don’t say that!” I yell. “You may not be related through blood but she loves you so much! She only started eating kale because she saw you eating it for salad, she loves to play with the toys you made for her and have become her favorites, and sometimes no matter how long I rock her to sleep she only wants to take her nap with you singing to her... don’t say that you don’t have a connection with her because it’s a lie. You’re her favorite person... and mine too”
He smiled but made an effort to hide his face. “You two are my favorite people too” he admits with a dark blush and little tears on the corner of his eyes.
The more we cried I could feel how the guilt and pain started to melt, letting the bad memories become words in the sand as the sea erase them with each gentle wave. I knew I couldn’t forget this, it was meant to hurt so we would remember that trust is important for us, but that didn’t mean that we wouldn’t let the wound heal. I knew I wanted him back into our lives, I knew we could make this work for Nifai, and us too.
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Things went on and Nifai was growing like a sprout. She had already started crawling at full speed all over the small house and reaching whatever her tiny hands could find. This made feeding time much more of a disaster than before, she loved to feel the different textures and taste new flavors though.
For a moment I thought things would go straight forward after this, but there were little details I was purposely avoiding to think about. The guy who rented the place started sending me emails in these last months about raising the rent by 10% which was odd in the first place but I just figured it would be nothing I could do about it, then it came another telling me it would be 15%, and a lot one telling me it could be at least 20%. I didn’t want to admit that I would be able to pay rent anymore, somehow I was so worried about the baby that I excused myself on everything I could if it meant not thinking about it too long.
After six months of living in the house, I got an email from my landlord informing me that, due to personal issues, he had to raise the rent up to 30% more than our usual deal. I panicked knowing that I wouldn’t be able to pay it no matter how many shifts I took, I would have to find another job but I couldn’t leave Nifai alone for so many hours straight. The feeling of safeness that I once felt was slowly fading like sand between my fingers, everything felt blurry and I couldn’t hear anything else in the world but the loud thoughts in my head.
“What am I going to do? Where am I going to live now? What job could I take? Where am I going to take the money from? Everything is going to start over again. I need to pay rent! I need to pay bills! I need to buy food! I need to save money for her future too! I need to take care of Nifai, they’re going to take her away from me?! What am I supposed to DO?!”
In the distance I could hear something else, two sets of noises both equally loud yet my body froze and I couldn’t even breathe. Then, two sets of hands grab my shoulders and shake me back to my senses.
“Hey! Snap out of it!” I blink and see Sliez in front of me, I just noticed I had been laying on the floor. “What happened? Are you hurt?” he sounds so desperate. I reach my hand to touch his cheek, it’s warm and he smells like flowers and wet soil. I wrap my arms around him in desperation, breathing out relieved that he’s here and so am I. He just stays there, arms unsure where to stay and his long ears twitch a little which I found funny and couldn’t help but giggle between heavy sobbing. 
I needed to calm down, I took deep breathes and tried to push any loud thought to the back of my head just enough so I could sense my surrounding. My heart was hammering at full speed, I was already out of breath and feeling like passing out but Sliez never let go of me, he just let me cling to him as I tried to recover. When Nifai starts winning I finally let go of him and rush to aid her, and after changing her diaper I brought her to the living room where Sliez was preparing coffee for both of us. 
I told him what had happened, a part of me feared that he may think that I was crazy because I freaked out about something like that and knowing how sarcastic he could be I was expecting some sort of commentary. But he didn’t; he just looked between his cup and Nifai playing on the carpet before breaking the silence.
“Does this happen often to you? This- I don’t know how to call them, to be honest”
“Panic Attacks?” He shrugs. “No, I haven’t had one of these in a year. That was actually the reason I moved out to be honest”
He scratched the back of his neck, clearly struggling to find the right words. After five minutes he spoke again.
“Can I ask- what happens? For you to have this attacks?”
I wasn’t surprised about the question; in a way, I’ve come to like Sliez and hoped he also saw me as a friend at least. A part of me wanted to be honest about it just so we could be more open about our issues, he even told me his entire story before we had a chance to properly meet, and if Nifai can benefit from us having a better relationship and giving her a good example, it’s a win-win situation. I put my cup down and lean back on the couch, I’ve been meaning to talk about this but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy.
“I grew up like any other kid, I suppose. I had a family, I went to school, I had friends and life was normal. Then, my dad started having issues with money, we couldn’t pay the rent at the time and started accumulating debts, I had to put aside my dream of going to college just so I could find a job and make enough money to buy food for the week while I had to often face the people my father owned money, everything seemed so awful. Dad started drinking as a way to cope with everything which didn’t help at all, sometimes he would find where I hid the money and spend it on beer of some liquor they would have in sale”
I saw how his fists clenched, something he does when he gets frustrated for things.
“Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t some abuse parent who hit his woman and child, he drank a lot but never did anything to hurt us. He just stopped doing anything at all actually and started drowning every night in his favorite drinks so he could dream of the perfect future we one day would have. My mom couldn’t stand it and went back to her sister’s house, so I was left alone in that worn-out house with my pass out dad; I would wake up early to work then come back at night just to be yelled by the landlady, always threatening us with kicking us out in the streets. I believe I started having panic attacks because of the heavy stress I was under”
I took another sip on my coffee, it was bitter but I didn’t mind the taste at all.
“How did you get away anyways?” He asked me.
I closed my eyes for a moment. “My dad had lost himself a long time ago, I was still in contact with my mom and she had offered me to stay with her and my auntie, but who would take care of my dad then? Who would clean the house, make food, and pay the rent when he can only drink his existence away? I was so conflicted. One night after coming back from the midnight shift I found him passed out in his own vomit, he had also pissed himself and no matter how much I yelled he wouldn’t answer. The neighbors called an ambulance and I spent the night with him in the ER, he eventually woke up confused and a little hungry, the doctor came and explained that he probably had fallen and hit his head which explained the concussion and recommended stay away from alcohol for a while”
“You don’t understand, doctor’’ he said bitterly but with a smile in his face. ‘’There’s no reason for me to change who I am at this point”
“Those words were what made me realize how selfish he truly was. I worked so hard and stayed beside him because I loved him still, yet, he didn’t care about changing because apparently there was no reason to?! I wasn’t enough of a reason for him to finally stand up and get his shit together!”
I realized I was raising my voice, Sliez was looking at me with a painful expression. I shook my head and looked away to continue.
“I left him a letter with a nurse at the hospital saying that I could not tolerate this life anymore. I took what was left in the apartment as well as my last payment and took the next bus to take me as far from the city as possible. And the rest is just as you know it; I found this house on rent and moved here, I found the baby, I met you, and now I’ll be having to find another place to live again”
Silence fell in the living room, even Nifai seemed to have stopped giggling. I couldn’t look at Sliez now, I wanted to open up to him about what had happened but now I felt so stupid and embarrassed for everything I feared he may think bad of me. That’s when I felt his hand on mine, his thumb gently rubbing my palm.
“I’ll help you get through this” he said.
“You have no reason to do so” I reply and he chuckled.
“You adopted a baby in your doorstep without reason; you let me come visit her even though I’m not her real father, and now you’re going to let me help you because I DO have many reasons to do so’’
I turn to look at him, he was smiling tenderly and my vision got blurry with heavy tears I was trying to hold. Nifai came to my feet and held her arms up for me to carry her, her tiny little green hand touched my eyes as my tears continue flowing. “We’ll be okay” I whispered as I held her close to me and Sliez embraced both of us.
“We’ll be okay. I promise”. The three of us took a nap all curled up on the sofa, safe in our shared bubble of hope.
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The rent was too high to pay and to be honest the house wasn’t worth the price anymore. We had to move out of the house by the end of the month and my mind was freaking out again at the prospect of instability; but Sliez kept his promise and allowed us to go live with him in his apartment until we could afford a place of our own. We end up making a routine and diving the days to know who will stay in the house taking care of the baby, and who would go and work, a routine that we managed to work just fine for us and he was delighted to spend as much time pampering Nifai as possible.
Since winter was coming close he wouldn’t have as much work as in the other seasons which meant that he would only leave the house to remove the snow from the streets of parking lots or take care of the greenhouse of the university nearby. I didn’t have much work then but I had managed to save enough money to look for an apartment on my own
However, there was a question still lingering in my head. Will I have to leave  Nifai behind? It isn’t fair that I take her away from him after everything he had done for us. Does that mean that once I move out he’ll forget about me too? It’s not like he had any obligation to do so, we are just friends who had been there the worst of situations and still managed to laugh, is nothing more than that... right?
I felt so dumb for feeling hopeful about anything. Sliez was still young and he clearly had intentions of having fun and enjoy life while I was in my thirties and still working in restaurants or supermarkets to survive. He could have a better mate, I knew that, and Nifai could have a better parent too. That was the truth but still felt so heavy in my heart.
Sliez came that night with his uniform wet, I hadn’t noticed it has started to snow so I rushed to handed him a towel. Maybe it was because of habits but he took off his shirt right in the living room not bothered that I was right there, my cheeks went red from embarrassment and I tried to look away but my eyes were glued to his form. The skin on his back had freckles of a much darker moss green color, the muscles on his back were beautiful to watch, and he had a tattoo of a tiger on his left shoulder.
“Hey! Don’t stare!” He yelled his face equally flustered.
“Sorry!” I had to cover my face because I couldn’t look away.
“You can laugh if you want” he mumbled. “I know goblins aren’t much of the liking of humans” he snarled.
I didn’t understand where that comment came from. “Sliez, that’s not what happened. I was just, surprised- that’s all. I’m sorry if I offended you”
He continues drying his chest and back. “Is not just that we are small, our hands, our ears, our voices even. Humans always look down of us, literally, that’s why I fooled around with Nifai’s mother, she treated me like an equal for the first time, even if it was only for a short time I liked that feeling”
I stopped for a second, I knew that this wasn’t about me but I couldn’t help but ask. “Do I make you feel the same way as with other humans?”
He turned to look at me shocked. In another context, he would be embarrassed but I believe he was thinking the same as me. He looked around as if trying to find an answer painted on the walls. “That’s not- No, you don’t make me feel like that, being with you feels oddly different. Much more wholesome even, but you wouldn’t-“ he stopped mid-sentence and shook his head. “That’s just stupid for me to think”
“What?” I urge him taking a step closer to him, hands close to my chest and eyes glimmering with little hope I have left. “Please tell me” I say to him in a pitiful voice.
He sighs in annoyance yet I know he’s not angry, this is hard, embarrassing, and difficult for both of us. He asked me to sit with him in the table and he took hold of my hand in his, I never get tired at how he laces our finger together.
“I’ve grown... fond of you. You’re my friend, and that alone was hard for me to admit. But you’re a human, you could have anyone you could want in this town and make a family of your own if that’s what you want, but you’re here with me. You have helped me be... better. Feel better and as time goes and I get to see you every morning smiling-“ he looks right into my eyes and I swear my heart stops for a moment. “I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you”
There was no time to waist, no second to let everything sink in, there was no need for words or actions more than already has been done. I threw myself over the table so I could reach for him and kiss him, capturing him like a wild animal would capture its prey. We both fell on the floor and almost break the chair between heavy kisses and relieved tears of joy. After a while, we break the kiss and try to catch our breaths.
“Sorry, don’t know what has gone into me” I laugh nervously. He brushes my hair aside and kisses my nose.
“Don’t be, I was sure I was going to do or say something stupid so I’m glad you did it first” I snorted and fell on top of him, not crushing him but cuddling to his chest and listen to his heart. His arms locked around me, making me feel safe and close. He smells like coffee grains, soil, and everything that makes me feel safe in a place I can call home. ‘’So… does this mean we have to get married? I mean, I like you. Like, a lot, and I can’t imagine anyone else who I’d rather spending my life with. Weddings are expensive thought’’ he grimaced and kissed his cheek.
‘’We don’t need to. I much rather spend my days knowing you’re beside me than having a certificate telling me what I already know’’
‘’And, what about Nifai? What would the other kids say about us?’’
I smile. ‘’That she has two parents that love her very much, that they would run miles if she’s sick, that would make her laugh when she’s sad, and that will always make her know that as long as we stay together everything is going to be fine’’
He kissed me again, long and sweet until we hear giggles coming from around the corner. Nifai seemed to be cheering us with her little hands.
We all lay on his massive bed, Nifai happily playing with my curls as she slept between us. My heart felt so warm and so big, there was so much love in it to give to my family and I was happy and grateful because I knew they loved me very much too. I knew I wanted to be better and get better too, I knew I wanted to leave the fear and dread behind so I could finally enjoy and show my child that happiness is for everyone and it costs nothing. I fell asleep with eagerness for the future, an old feeling that my heart gladly welcomed again.
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terato-is-life · a year ago
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Monster Family Prompt #19
Imagine a big and black dragon coiling his tail around you. You two are sleeping together as if he wasn't too much trouble.
But the dragon wasn't anything except for a overprotective father over his only kid, who he would protect with his life.
Every sunrise and sunset, he used to take you to fly over the clouds since it was the most beautiful time of the day.
By the aftnernoon, you two would play nezt to the lake as he playfully throws you on the water only for you to run after him pretending to be angry.
You were truly happy with him.
But things started to get a bit scary when you noticed some humans trying to explore where you two lived.
What could be happening from now on?
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loousir · 3 months ago
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[Vampire] Needs First, Wants Second
Vampire Male x Male Reader
Silas
Warnings: Pain Kink, this one is indeed a lemon so be warned, vampy do be drinking blood doe
Masterlist
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It was rather late at night when you and your boyfriend were sitting out on his balcony. He was holding your hand as the two of you made small talk about the day while watching the city lights. Silas was drinking his Bloody Mary and you were drinking a simple cocktail. "As much as I love your drink-making skills, this substitute stuff is horrendous..." You looked over to him to see him take a sip of his drink and slightly cringe at the taste.
When the two of you first met, he made sure to make you aware of the fact he was a vampire and wouldn't drink from you unless you gave consent. He's always used substitutes or donations and you've only let him on two occasions but you always ended up running away afterward. You felt bad since you were well aware he chose you for one reason a vampire would choose a human. They were delicious.
You looked over to him, specifically to his deep red eyes. You could see that he wanted to taste you again but was holding back because he didn't want to hurt you. "Silas." He looked over to you. "Do you wanna head inside?" He closed his eyes for a moment and shrugged. "If that's what you'd like." He said standing up while grabbing his glass. You did the same and followed him to the glass door to which he opened for you. You smiled and gave a small thank you as you walked in, going to the kitchen to set your glass on the counter.
Standing there for a moment, thinking, Silas hugged you from behind while setting his glass next to yours. You leaned into him and rested your head on his shoulder. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent. "You smell so good all the time. It's hard to hold back sometimes." You turned around and hugged his chest, leaving your neck available to him.
"You can start drinking from me more frequently if you'd like. I don't want you to be uncomfortable..." He pulled his head away and made you look at him. His pupils had dilated slightly while looking at you. "Are you sure about saying that? I don't want you to feel like you need to do that even after what I said on the balcony." You closed your eyes and leaned into the hand that rested on your cheek. "Yeah... I, I think you waited long enough to be able to do that. I know that's why you were so adamant about being with me." You said with a small smile while looking into his eyes.
Silas moved your face closer to his and connected your lips. Your eyes closed and he pulled your hips closer to his own. He pulled away and said, "Are you sure you still want to do this? I don't want to hurt you..." You looked up to him with half-lidded eyes and nodded. "Of course I do... I have my own reason for not letting you drink but... We've been together for a year and a half now, I don't see why I shouldn't let you." He pulled you into a kiss before kissing down your jaw and on the optimal place above your collar bone.
He gently kissed where he was going to bite and you started to get nervous. Silas felt the shift in your demeanor and was about to pull away when up placed your hand on the back of his head. "I-its ok, just... Just keep going." He gently placed more kisses before mumbling out a small sorry and biting down. You shivered and moaned softly as he drank from you. "Hh... Fuck~" You held onto him and pressed your hips into his.
He let out a small groan of enjoyment as he drank. You could hear him drinking that thing you needed so badly to live. Silas was clearly enjoying himself and that made you happy. You started to feel slightly weak so you tapped his shoulder, saying to stop.
His greedy ass took just a bit more before pulling away and licking the spot where he bit to stop the blood from flowing and to clean the area. He looked at you and made you blush. Silas had some blood on his lips to which he, if I might say, sexily licked up. He pressed his thigh into your crotch, making you shiver. "Gods you're fucking delicious. I love you so much." He said, gripping your hips a bit harder.
"I... Love you too..." You said between soft pants. He ran one of his hands up your back and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling it slightly. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head making them close. "Do you have a pain kink you didn't tell me about?" He asked close to your ear, his British accent adding to the effect. "Is that why you don't let me drink? Because you know it'll end up like this?" You didn't respond so he pulled your hair more and pressed into your crotch more. "Y-yeah..."
Silas kissed behind your ear and coaxed you to sit upon the counter. He pressed himself between your legs and started to dry hump you. You shivered and held onto his neck as he kissed yours. "Please Silas..." He smirked against your neck. "Please what?" He carefully left a few hickeys on your neck here and there making you moan. "It hurts... Please fuck mmme~ Ah..." He pulled his head away and looked down at you, removing his hand from your hair.
He ran his hands under your shirt, up your sides. "How bad do you want me?" You moaned as he pinched your nipples, pulling and tugging on them under your shirt. "There's... Ah~ No words to describe it..." You said pressing your chest into his hands.
Silas pulled you into a kiss, gently biting your bottom lip. You kissed back, needing more of him. He pulled away and trailed his hands down to your joggers, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing you to him. You shivered as he gently grabbed and stroked you, making you moan.
He pressed his nose into your neck, licking at your collar bone. "Do you want me to fuck you on my counter or in my bed?" You shivered again and wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed him against you. "I don't care just fuck me~" Silas smirked and pulled away from you.
His hands moved from their spot on your hips to his shirt. He unbuttoned the peach-colored button-up he had on and tossed it behind him before slipping off his pants and boxers. You watched him move, loving every second of it. He may be on the thinner side but damn, is that man sexy.
Silas leaned you back slightly, exposing you to the chilly air. He leans in and kisses you when he gently pumps your member again. You moan into his mouth as he pulls away and looks down at your pleasured face. "I love you so much," He said, prodding himself at your entrance. "I, love you too... You... You can put it in." You said softly.
He kissed you once more as he gently pushed into you, making sure he didn't hurt you. You moaned as he pushed all the way in. He paused for a moment to admire you when you moved your hips, making him thrust into you, hard. You smiled and hugged him as he nipped softly at your neck.
The thrust in and out of you at his inhuman speed, making you closer and closer to your release. "Sai please..." You moaned out as he hit the sweet spot, making you come on his and your stomachs almost instantly. He groaned as you clenched around him, begging for his seed to fill you. After a few more thrusts, he finally finished inside before pulling out. You shivered as he pulled you into a kiss and his seed started to spill out a bit.
He smirked and put his fingers in your still sensitive hole to keep it in. "Sai, w-what-"
"I want you to keep it in, as a memory of what caused this in the first place."
---- 1412 Wasn't really in the mood at the end but wanted to finish it off... Maybe I'll update it.
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gargoyle--prince · a year ago
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A big monster that is 5 times your size. He's huge, broad and muscular. You fit in his lap like a little doll.
You had a knee on each one of his thighs, legs spreed for him while you grinding against the head of his cock in little circles against your slick entrance. You could feel his heart beating through the head of his dick as he groaned deeply, you could feel the vibration in his sculpted chest you leaned against as your arms were up holding onto his huge shoulders.
You suddenly felt the head pop into you forcing you to gasp. His large strong hands engulfing your waist as he held onto you, slowly pushing his cock into your body filling you completely up.
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a-lonely-dragon · 2 years ago
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M!Undead x F!Reader Masterlist
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Your aunt returns home in the middle of the night from a trip, but instead of bringing back souvenirs she shows up with a stranger in tow, one who seems to be just as surprised and confused about the situation as you are.
Part One 
Part Two
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The Seeker (High Elf Boyfriend)
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I’m going back to writing longer fics, so bear with me. This will be the first part.
Part 2 
Relationship: Male Monster x GN Reader
Support me on Ko-fi!~    Patreon
The Man in the High Tower
Turn a breakdown into a breakthrough - from ruin and devastation into liberation and renewal.
The air was salty and dry from lack of rain: pungent and heavy, it wracked horror through the pale sky of darkening clouds, blackening like a plague the further it spread. The ground was soft and marshy, collecting marshland water into the soles of your ripped boots, squelchy between your toes the further you walked. 
In the sea of mud and nothing but endless barren lands, there was something that no one dared believe: of what spread as gossip between mothers in the town you were raised in. Of a man whose secrets were hidden beneath billowing sleeves and in his ancient bookshelves, who spoke dead languages when no one else remembered. A sorcerer, some said, a God amongst men, others whispered in dread.
No matter what, the disbelief of those of your town had for you when you spoke of wanting to find the man in the hidden tower was enough to either make or break you. You chose the former. If these talks you had been raised to believe were false your entire life had been all for nothing, you could imagine how you would become the laughing stock for weeks on end in your trip of failure back. However long it had been into your travels on foot, the feeling of finding it was dwindling. 
Yet, in the distance, among a mirage of nothing more than just fields and hills of mush and dark-green: cows grazing the dry patches they could find, lazily ignoring the darkness of the sky as clouds clustered, a heavy toil of roaring thunder could be heard above you. A storm is rolling in, and swift its arrival will be.
Your pace quickened, staggering over puddles and large fields of mud until it caked your legs past your boots and stained your trousers, dry it would crunch and feel terrible against your skin, but perhaps you could rinse yourself in the rain when it would arrive.
The rain soon joined, thick droplets that splattered in chorus with the deafening victory of thunder above, booming, its drumming moved through you until you could feel the upbeat of your heart, fluttering with every waiting pause.  
There was constant drumming that struck within your heart – a flash of lightning that reared you back and set some cattle scattering – within the distance of the heavy rain and unclear view over the horizon, came to you something you thought was a vision.
The outline of the long structure was jagged and unsmooth, seeming similar to the irregular shape of the lead of a pencil, its winding structure of the building was pointing straight up into the eclipsed sky with little protection with half the roof torn off. The rest destroyed by nature, with thick vines intertwined with malicious intention, shaping and bending around the tower.
When you reached its entrance, there was little in guarding the door for anyone to just waltz inside, and inside you did, knocking hastily once on the thick door before shoving your way through. The outside – bare and ruined – was nothing to the inside: a delusion that lied between fantasy and reality. 
Its once twisting and ghastly walls were now polished and white marble, decorated from the base to top with shelves of thousands of books, a warped labyrinth of books made into an impressive library. Even its ceiling was oddly restored, miraculously hiding the storm with silver glass painting a different picture to what was outside.
For now, it would do to hold you against the storm raging, but you had other things you were needing to do. “Am I alone here?” You asked amid the deep, towering shelves, your voice echoing through the as high to the glittering sky. 
“You called for me?” The sleek yet rasping voice answered and in the blink of an eye, the man no mortal had faced was standing before you, a man who materialised from nothing into the open space, as regal as anything you had seen. Even when standing before you, inches away in his average height, the man still loomed a presence with a shadow as mighty as his tower. 
He was an elf from the straight pointing ears sticking out, rare outside the land you grew up in. His hair was pin straight against his back, long and as copper as a summer sunset, with silver beads and garnets that tied in the back with silver chains. His skin was sallow and almost ailing from lack of colour, making his golden eyes stand out against his skin and hair, overall intimidating in appearance. Dressed in simples colours of deep greens with ornate designs, his robes made him move seamlessly. 
“I did,” your voice tried to hold some steadiness. “I travelled to see whether those of my town were correct – that you did exist. You’re the one who owns this tower?”
“I am the keeper of this library, master of knowledge, the Seeker. I hold all knowledge, old and new, detailing events and those to come. I hold power over this very tower.” His long swaying cape and robes made him look to be hovering, gliding through the air without even dispersing particles. “That defeats why you stand before me. Speak before I may kick you back out into the rain.”
You told him your name, though you were certain something told you he knew of it already. There was an unsettling aura that he displayed so easily, “Do you threaten to kick out all visitors?” You asked.
“You answer questions by asking your own. It is your only way to appease your anxieties from one’s… interrogations.” The Seeker concluded sharply.
Your face grew hot, crossing your arms uncomfortably, “Or maybe I’m too uncomfortable to answer?”
He hummed, the note itself was tuneful to be sung, “Well, you did travel some lengths to find me, you are not a local, thank the Gods” he corrected. “Though I’m certain the chatter of old crones would conjure up falsehood amongst their kin, to frighten them to remain obedient.”
“Are you calling me a child?” You gritted your teeth, unwavering emotions on what he was thinking of. “In the few decades this tower has stood for, no mortal has found it so easily,” he spoke effortlessly. “What hex have you placed upon this sanctuary?”
Your eyebrows scrunched, “I found it… it was just sitting there in the open.”
The man gave no comment or shift in facial expression, neither impressed nor shocked for his failed attempt at concealing something so important. “If you found it, you must be here for a reason other than accusations and sightseeing.”
Your desperation grew sudden when his threat was spoken, and soon, all direness seemed to be remembered. “Wait—I’ll tell you why I’m here. I wasn’t seeking shelter from the storm, but I heard of your supposed knowledge… I want to be taught by you.”
His eyes were unnerving and almost unblinking when they stared down at you, “Not only a child, but one trying to claim power incapable of humans to achieve.” 
Your cheeks grew hotter, “No… but I can learn. I’m a quick learner. Look- I’m capable, it’s just magic, isn’t it?”
“Just magic? You believe it to be so simple?” His question held a haunting undertone to the drawl from his lips. With ease, he pulled back his hand from his sleeves, hands just as pale in colour to the rest of him, presenting a cloud of dark smoke within the palm, sparks as white fire flickering within it. “Tell me, do you think a human would be able to do this with little training? To invoke something you think would be easy to do without a second thought.”
“I think I would be worthy since I found this place that you forgot to hide,” there was a smugness in your tone, crossing your arms. “Maybe you’re not as good as they claim.” 
The simple step he took forward was enough to surge through you with the raw authority he possessed, a rookie mistake on your part to your quick temper. “You come to my tower, accuse me of not being skilled in my knowledge,” he said incredulously. “My, humans have not changed.” 
In a heartbeat, there was a surge of movement, making you stagger forward, a rush of cold brushed against your face when you raised your arms to brace yourself, sloppily halting to an end. You staggered back, looking back over your shoulder, seeing the very entrance you had once opened, the Seeker standing in the doorway, arms pulled back and hidden. “I am a kindly man, some may say, others won’t,” he began with a heavy sigh. “But I won’t let you insult my findings and this reservation. Go if you must back to your people, tell them I exist, I’m sure they will believe you.”
The rain lashed at your skin uncomfortably, reaching out in a clumsy sprint. “No, wait!-”
“Forgive me, I’m busy.”
You slammed into the heavy door before you could even get him to hear your response to redeem yourself, the storm outside roared with the wind chillingly biting against the back of your neck, simply trying to shelter yourself from the onslaught wouldn’t be enough for you to catch a cold as bad as the ones in the winter months; to leave fevers to be sweated out and dreams so lucid but real.
Silence. Deadly and cold. Reminding you to be forgotten and everything that surrounded you in the barren wilds.
You slammed your palm painfully into the doors more times you could hope for when you forgot what the word ‘sorry’ sounded like on your lips, hoping that he remained on the other side. “Can’t you at least listen to what I have to say?” Your voice could not dare be as loud as the wind, but you still tried. “I would rather apologise in person to you, but how can I when you’ve sent me away? Can I not prove myself to you?” You pressed your forehead into the wood in downfall, the raindrops trickled like gemstones from your eyelashes, “Why won’t anyone listen?”
The door you had been leaning against felt suddenly lighter, the force made you stumble forward, quickly collecting yourself back up when you realised no rain or thunder could be ringing in your ears. You quickly wiped your tears in shame, looking anywhere but in front of you.
“You said you want to be taught?” The Seeker answered flatly, idly keeping himself distracted with a book and nose in the ageing pages. “Yes,” your voice felt meek, pathetic when you felt so judged. “I want… I want to become a healer.”
The slamming of a book startled you when you found the high elf had placed it away, the old leather book moving on its own back to its original place on the shelf with the many others. “You will not judge my principles, my teachings and lessons?” 
You chewed on your bottom lip, “No.” 
“Then I shall teach you as much as humanly possible. Your training starts tomorrow. I would suggest you rest now, bed and a meal will be with you shortly.”
You went to open your mouth to ask where you would sleep but the Seeker had already clicked his fingers and you were sent into a completely different part of the ever-expanding tower, a hallway of rich golds and browns, many doors leading with no exit. The door you were standing in front of seemed to do for now.
On the first night in a different bed, you didn’t sleep at all, waking up dishevelled and unkempt, receiving a sigh from the Seeker, already pristine and dressed in a different outfit; robes of royal purple, somehow flattering his unnatural eye colour.
He showed you the main library, told you of all the books and every subject he seemed to know knowledge of, droning on and on about nothing you could understand: from languages to the geography of the land and what it was, it seemed to never end. This repeated for who knew how many days, losing count on how you were surviving.
By the middle of the day, you were worn and building a headache, dull yet aching. There was little to eat to help you concentrate, the Seeker had given you a plethora of books of his disposal to read for the last hour, but you found little of your time going into reading each page.
You shut the chapter you were on with a heavy grunt, heavier than you expected, drawing the elf out from his readings, the rim of his golden eyes staring up from you without having to move his head. 
You thrummed your fingers on the desk excessively, “So… are you a God?”
“A God cannot hold mortal properties, nor shall a human be bestowed with powers of the almighty.” He said, pulling away to stand. “That is balance, and in the universe, balance and chaos are two pillars, holding everything together. If one falls, the other must follow.”
“Can’t you just push one back up again?”
He seemed amused by your naïve questions. “Although I am the one of knowledge of this world, I cannot interfere with what I find or store. I can only hope that the knowledge will be used when the time is needed.”
There was a flash of white, and you felt a shift in your body surging you forward, making you stagger. Before you, the map of the room changed, and now replaced with thousands of books was a chasm below you, reaching to a pit with no end nor edges to support onto, empty and longing for another victim. “What are you doing?” You gasped, trying to retreat backwards, when the seat and table disappeared, finding nothing but the small ledge you stood on, your body swaying no matter you tried staying still. From the opposite side of the chasm stood the Seeker, swaying lightly in the thin air. “Think of yourself as the one holding everything, if you dare think of yourself as unable, you will sink.”
You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, trembling rushing through your body. “It’s too high, I’ll fall.”
“You won’t if you think like that.” He was beside you in a second, an unexpected gentle hand coming to rest against in your own, leading your forward but when you halted, he stopped himself, the call for your name was cooling from his mouth. “Do you trust me?”  
“I do.” 
“Then walk,” he guided, and with small steps with eyes shut, his hand was warm and soft as you felt the rush of wind blew up, flying around your hair when you felt the rush come to your stomach. “You can open your eyes now.” He whispered.
When you did, it was bright and open, the chasm was still as large and daunting as when it appeared in your eyes, a drizzle of saltwater fell on your face, a smell rich and familiar. You exhaled, deeply taking it all in. “Are you afraid?” The Seeker had asked after some time.
“No,” you spoke gently. “I think it’s quite remarkable.”
Your days endured with learning and improving bit by bit, seeking out the properties of metals and drawing out gold in hopes it could prolong better life or immortality. There would be days that you would leave with burns and scrapes, curses that you learnt from your books of long gone that the Seeker had a hard time in allowing you say when you got something wrong, but overall, your teacher had been a quiet, aloof man, who hid lots and said little by little.
“Do you have a family?” You had asked when the courage was barely there and you found little patience in not knowing anything of him. The Seeker found little to do whilst you worked, but always seemed to be around whenever you had questions, appearing by your side and ready to answer. 
His copper hair was the first thing you saw when he was beside you, thinking you had a question addressed to the turning of gold, when he straightened up again, resuming the stiff posture. “Does this have anything to do with your pages?”
“No… but I’m curious. You don’t say much about anything but of your books.” You shrugged. “Just thought you’d be a man with hundreds of stories to be told – a man with hundreds of secret wives or something.”
The corner of his wiry lips barely lifted, you noted. “Hundreds of wives?”
“Well, whatever, you know what I mean. Well… do you?”
“I… I wouldn’t feel most comfortable in answering that.” He controlled the flow of everything, the tower and your conversations. “Resume your work, food will be with you shortly when you are done.” He snapped.
You didn’t say much, pretending to continue with your work, all whilst watching him leave through a small door, his posture seeming oddly tense.
By the fifteenth day, you had found him in a crowded corner of books surrounding him, sheltered from the possibility of finding you. His appearance seemed dishevelled, the lack of sleep evident in his eyes, soulless and gaunt. The book in his grip slammed shut, startling quickly before he emerged from the veil he had conjured.
“I must show you something.” 
You silently obeyed, folding the page subtly you were on and neatly putting it on the table shut, your seat groaning as you stood but not tucking it in, following after the man who was already walking in the opposite way he entered.
Through the same door he had left through in a familiar discussion, you followed him through, emerging through a jungle of greenery; a greenhouse to be exact, its lusciousness had been overtaken with neglect.
Under a large stone arch by the end of the shrubs and foliage, the trees cut back, flowers growing of all haunting colours. A garden that was as pretty as the ones your grandparents owned, somehow in better shape than the rest. Its scenery was decorated with a lovely pond, filled with fishes with glowing eyes, all different shapes and sizes. When the Seeker stopped walking, you had found him in front of the grey of a woman, frozen with a face so lovely. You watched how the Seeker comfortingly stroked at her knuckles with soft fondness. “This is my wife, Arnarra,” his voice was low, his melancholic eyes trailing up her frozen face.
“She’s beautiful.” You breathed with mesmerisation, turning from her to look at him. “Thank you.”
The high elf’s head swished to look back at you, all ends of his straight copper hair stood up on edge, his eyes wide from awareness. “Thank you?”
“For showing me her. I know she means a lot to you,” you drawled thoughtfully, watching how he gave one last touch to her cold skin, removing himself to withdrawal. “She was half-celeste, Goddess of chance and fate. Falling in love was a chance she had taken so greatly, followed sadly by misfortune she had not addressed to me. There was a high chance she would fall for a mortal, greater for whether she would displease her father. The risk was fateful.”
“But she risked it to love you, doesn’t that tell you something?” You questioned.
His eyes were cast, hardly able to read his eyes, but he was silent as if drinking in your words. He said nothing else as he turned and took his leave, solemnly marching as if in a funeral procession whilst you followed quietly behind a few paces obediently. Beneath the high arch of the entrance of the quaint garden, he stopped so abruptly, with your hesitancy following.
“Promise me something.” His voice was hushed, almost a whisper in the dead air of brushing autumnal leaves. Something stirred within you, hope, perhaps even the potential for the end of the awkward small talk.
You could feel the corners of your mouth lift up before you could even reply, “Yes?”
“Promise me you will not mention her again. Nor of my family.” 
You flinched as if struck by him, stopping dead in your tracks, ready to open your mouth to question them, but your own words were trapped in your throat, the occurring memory of the look that was present in his eyes; the most expressive they had been since you had wandered within the walls of his tower. 
Yet, you complied, for his sake. “I promise.”
He nodded, as if a burden releasing his body from torment, resuming straightening his back with his arms behind his back forevermore, “I shall have something prepared for you for dinner. I shall see you shortly.” He took his long strides away from the overgrown garden, disappearing once again through the veil of absence that hung so low, leaving you to hear the whisperings that never went away.
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Hello! Hc Look-see & Shelly w s/o who have the ability to communicate with supernatural things from the underworld like ghosts, etc... pls 🥺
I have so many drafts and so many asks — and have been cursed with ADD. 😔 I’m so sorry for everyone who requested stuff, I’m trying to give this blog attention that it deserves.
(Romantic) Look-See and Shelley with a medium s/o
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Look-See
Ooh, what an interesting lil’ thing he’s stumbled upon.
There’s a good chance Look-See may have been drawn to you because of this power. After a recent tragedy, you’ve noticed a lot more terrified souls floating around, and they’re fairly recent, too. One day, as you’re trying to talk to one about how they died, you feel an unsettling presence behind you. You turn around, and there he is, watching you while perched in a tree like some fucking cat.
He wonders if you’re bullshitting at first, but he soon realizes that you’re legit when you tell him exactly how many souls have started flocking around him looking for vengeance. Assuming you can channel these spirits, Look-See will have a terrifying time trying to evade you while he waits for the spirit to leave your body.
If you’re a more empathic soul to the monster’s victims, perhaps you’ll find yourself using your skills to help people reconnect with their deceased loved ones so they can find closure and move on. Then Look-See won’t have to kill them, and lives won’t be lost.
He tries to be really considerate of any spirits that might be wandering the house. Before he sits down somewhere he’ll sign “is someone here?” just to make sure he doesn’t accidentally sit on a spirit. Surprisingly considerate for a demon that kills people for being petty.
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Shelley
She probably met you while she was being a passive ghost and wandering around the halls of Avon Manor. You’re a new faculty member at the school when your spirit senses start going off. You had expected this, as you’ve heard the rumors that a poor student died here in 1989, but you had hoped the poor thing would’ve been able to move on.
She really likes talking to you! It’s so nice to have someone acknowledge her existence after all these decades by herself. She’ll tell you stories of the field hockey matches she won and tel you about all the crap she’s seen here over the years. Bad teachers, bad kids, education scandals, the works. Shelley’s been here for a while and she has all kinds of tea.
Just because Shelley’s a typically passive spirit doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a poltergeist streak. She’ll defend those who are being picked on, teachers and faculty alike, as some kind of avenging angel. But since she has a tendency to turn murderous, you’ll have to coax her into being more PG with her revenge.
Students picking on a teacher during class? They get smacked upside the head. Teachers being lazy with their students? They come back from lunch to see “do your goddamn job” scratched into the blackboard. Don’t even get her started on what she does to the teachers who try to groom students. You’re the only one that knows who strung up Mr. Noah on the basketball hoops.
Shelley is somewhat technologically challenged, so it’s utterly amazing when you hear that she somehow managed to disable school security system so you guys can hang out after-hours. She may be stuck in ‘89, but she’s a resourceful young lady. You guys hang out in the library, you have races down the halls, and sometimes you play field hockey. And sometimes, there may be a few less brownies for the school lunch tomorrow.
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monstersandmaw · 2 years ago
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Male each-uisge (sea kelpie) x reader (sfw) - Mermay story #6
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
This started out as a hippocampus kelpie, but upon being reminded of the glorious and vicious 'each-uisge ' of Scottish legend, that fitted him so much better. There's room for a Part Two in the future, so don't let me forget about this one!! It’s been up on my Patreon for a little while now, so it’s time to share it with you folks!
Content: near drowning, brief descriptions injury and blood (not to reader), gender neutral reader, sfw.
***
Inky water coiled around you the instant that your back hit the sea. The squall had swept in off the open Atlantic, and the deck of the tiny boat vanished as the waters closed above you. It took immense mental strength to force your mouth to stay shut before you sucked in a gulp of water in place of the air that your body was already craving as the adrenaline surged.
Panic, hot and searing and in total opposition to the bitingly cold waters, coursed through your veins and you fought off the wild, flailing fear as best you could. Clawing your way towards the surface, your clothes dragged at you, and as you tried desperately to kick off your shoes, you realised with a thrill of horror that something cold and slippery was coiling around your ankle.
The surface had slipped a long way away now as you sank under the weight of your own clothing, and your futile kicks only used up precious air without propelling you upwards.
You risked a glance down and your stomach turned over with horror.
There, wrapping black fronds like slick kelp around your ankle, was a creature you could never have dreamed up, even in your strangest nightmares.
The black head of a horse stared out of the depths at you with wild, white eyes, and strands of black, wafting hair and weed waved in the water around its head and neck. Below, its sinuous, eel-like body tensed and contracted, and as you opened your mouth to scream, forgetting the pressing tons of water on all sides, it latched another tendril around you and yanked you not up but down.
Your ears popped and you fought and twitched and struggled like a bird in netting as the thing from the deep pulled you down and down. In what felt like minutes, but what was in reality more likely to have been seconds, you found yourself being dragged into a dark opening in the craggy rock beneath the roots of the kelp surrounding the shore.
A moment later, you were thrust out onto a hard surface, and you were coughing water from your lungs.
Blinking and dazed, you looked around and discovered that you were lying on a bed of hard, damp sand, cradled in the hollow of an underwater cave. And there was air. The walls of the strange, rocky bower were illuminated by ethereal, glowing weeds and plants, and to your right was a pool of water that led out into the sea beyond. It lapped vigorously at the hard sand like ink in a shaken bottle. You were in an air pocket, and like a conical flask thrust underwater, it held the air for you to breathe. You blinked, vision blurred from the stinging salt and raging panic, trying to calm your breathing and the burning of the salt water in your throat.
You heaved and wretched the remnants of the seawater from your lungs and mouth, bedraggled and weak, but as you shifted your legs, a flash of memory seared across your mind and you recalled the horrific creature who had dragged you here.
Had it drawn you underground to keep you prisoner, or to keep you alive?
You whipped your head around to stare once more at the midnight-black water that pulsed rhythmically, as though the sea’s troubled heartbeat throbbed in the deep, and there, just breaking above the water, was the creature with the large ears of a horse. Its dead-white eyes were fixed unblinkingly on your face.
“What the hell are you?” you hissed, more to yourself than to the thing in the water as you scrabbled backwards and left scars in the smooth sand.
The creature rose above the waves just enough to reveal its mouth, and to your horror, you observed that the split of its mouth ran far up its skull, almost to its ears. This was not the head of an ordinary horse; this was the head of a predator, of a creature that hunted with those jaws and with the canines of a killer. Its long black tongue slipped free of that deadly maw for the briefest of instants, and then it hissed, in a voice like crunching sea salt, “I will not harm you.”
With your blood pounding in your ears and your breath hard to catch, you tried to swallow as you stared at the milky eyes of the horse that had spoken to you. “What are you?” you repeated.
“I am… an each-uisge,” the strange creature said, still not coming nearer to you. “I will not harm you.”
“What do you want with me?” you blurted, a violent, almost spasmodic trembling spreading through your already shivering limbs as the biting cold and choking terror caught up with you.
“Want?” it said, its strange, ageless voice echoing dully in the sea-hewn chamber. “I saved you. When you are recovered, I will take you to shore.”
“Oh…” you said, feeling only a little less afraid. “Why… Why did you save me?”
The creature bobbed amid the frothing water, and you noted how the coal-black coat on its neck gleamed in the odd light cast by the otherworldly corals and plants. “You were going to die,” it said simply. “Humans cannot breathe the sea like we can…”
“What are you?” you repeated, not believing that a creature from folklore could have come to life like this.
The being in the water blinked and said rather slowly and patronisingly, “I am a each-uisge… A water spirit, like a kelpie, though my herd makes its home in the sea.”
“But… you’re not real… You can’t be real…”
A braying, wild laugh answered your breathless statement. “Do I not look real to you, human?” it jibed, and then it swam a little closer, putting its weed-wreathed fore-hooves on the sandbar on which you lay sprawled like a piece of flotsam. Its eerie jaw clicked shut and its dead eyes rolled. “This is no fairytale, no folk-tale to frighten the children.”
Without warning, your blood pulsed in your temples and suddenly blackness closed in around the edges of your vision, and you collapsed onto the sand beneath you, unconscious before your head even hit the earth.
When you woke, you still lay on the sandbar, but the water was much closer to your feet, and you were alone.
You struggled to stand, fighting the waves of nausea and vertigo that swept through you from the lingering taste of the sea in your mouth and the exertion of your ordeal, and you turned your gaze warily to the dark waters beyond the hard sand.
The scuffed hoofmarks at the edge of the water told you that the creature had been there not long ago, and your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest as you stared at them. You’d lived all your life by the sea, if not here in this town, and you knew the fish-wives’ stories as well as anyone. Your own mother had told them to you to frighten you out of going swimming beyond the safety of the lifeguard’s buoys, but as you’d grown older, you’d seen the tales for what they were: warnings to avoid the sudden currents and moods of the sea. That was all. They were not supposed to have a grain of truth to them.
Your sodden, salty clothes still clung unpleasantly to your skin, and gooseflesh washed over you again as you shivered. You had to get out of here before that creature with the eel’s tail and the horse’s torso and head came back. You couldn’t shake the image of those predator’s teeth, nor those cold, misty, dead eyes.
Just as you turned around to see if there was a way out of the air-pocket, perhaps upwards into the rocks and up to the safety of the surface, a gentle splashing disturbed the regular breathing of the sea in the cave, and you turned with dread billowing thick and acrid in your stomach.
The creature had returned.
Clenching your jaw to stop your teeth chattering, you turned slowly and sure enough, floating there like a scrap of weed-bound driftwood, the horse’s black head glistened in the water. It blinked its dead eyes at you, then broke the surface and champed its unnerving jaw a little. Finally it said, “You are leaving.”
It wasn’t a question, but it drew a flickering frown from your brows. “Yes. Will you let me go?”
The tapering, almost elegant, black ears of the monstrous creature swivelled back a little. Not flat to its head like an angered mount, but almost sadly, like a kicked puppy. It nodded once and rasped, “Of course.”
“You say that like it should be obvious,” you said, “But I know a little about kelpies and each-uisge from the stories… You eat humans. You hunt humans.”
“We do sometimes,” the creature replied steadily. “But only when we’re desperately hungry. And I’m not.”
Its blunt words sent a fresh thrill of fear through you.
“Besides,” it said rather conversationally, “Seals are much better. Personally, I don’t see the attraction to human flesh. The taste is… awful.”
“Right,” you whispered, feeling faint.
The creature sighed, air bubbling through the water. “If you climb up the rock there, it leads to the shore. It’s far from human houses and the stone wall of the harbour, but you’ll get home alright.”
Something in its tone made you pause. “You don’t want to keep me, but you don’t seem all that enthusiastic about letting me go either…”
At that, the creature snorted a laugh - a sound like a horse’s whinny - and half reared out of the water, making you stagger back over the sand, arms flailing as you fought for balance. “I was not made for traversing the land, human,” it sneered at your reaction. “You don’t need to worry about me lumbering after you like a beached seal.”
You nodded slowly, feeling your rapid heartbeat in your throat.
The each-uisge braced its powerful equine forelegs on the sand, propping up its upper body and revealing a sleek, muscular figure, with an incredibly long mane tangled with seaweed and starfish. Its lower half was the murky, muddy green of an eel, with a long, papery-looking fin running the length of its spine. There was an odd beauty to the mottled skin of its sinuous tail, at odds with the joints and individual muscles of the horse’s chest, forelegs, neck and head.
It spoke to you in that strange, deep, rasping voice, and you found yourself inclined to listen, despite your instincts telling you to run from the predator. “I’m curious about you, I suppose,” he said. “My herd usually hunts squid and the like in the deep. I’ve only seen humans from a distance.”
“Seems like you’ve been close enough to taste one,” you blurted combatively, and to your surprise, the creature laughed again.
“True, though in my defence, he had drowned all on his own already.” When your lip curled in disgust, the each-uisge sighed. “Go on, go. You should go.” A second later, it added, “So should I.”
“Your ‘herd’?” you asked as a thought occurred to you, and it nodded. “Are… Are there many of you?”
It gave a kind of shrug, its weedy forelock flopping across one of those dead, white eyes before it tossed it out of the way again and said, “It varies. We are not so numerous as we used to be, but my herd is strong. We number about twenty.”
Your eyebrows rose, and it laughed softly at your surprise.
The thought of twenty of these predators surrounding a person in the water like teeming piranha and tearing them to ribbons with their sharp teeth suddenly made you feel sick to your stomach, and you turned away, squinting at the rough cave wall behind you. It was still illuminated by the soft glow of those mysterious corals, but now daylight filtered through the circular space above you, and as you neared the rock face, you looked up and saw that this was an old blow hole in the rocky shore.
The creature had been right and all you had to do was use the natural hand-holds in the stone to pull yourself up. It was a fair few metres, but with one last look back at the creature who was still mostly beached on the sandbar, watching you with a dolorous expression, you began to climb.
The encounter with the each-uisge stayed with you, and you found yourself researching them in your spare time. You didn’t have a huge amount of that, but what free hours you had, you dedicated to mythology and folklore of the region. There were newspaper accounts of the area, going back centuries, of men and women being lured out to sea by what they thought was a drowning horse, only to find themselves with its dread jaw clamped around them, their body straining as it dragged them down into the depths. To your surprise, however, you discovered one or two tales of kelpies falling in love with humans and using their equine strength to help their chosen love. Admittedly, these were all the kelpies who supposedly lived up on the higher moors inland.
You found no tales of the each-uisge falling in love.
And yet something eventually made you return to that submerged cave one afternoon.
The autumnal beach was deserted as you strode across it, the base of your jeans quickly soaking up the puddled seawater from the retreating tide. A piece of sea glass caught your eye, lying on the ribbed sand, and you stared at it. It was white and frosted with the battering of the sea against the sand, and it instantly reminded you of the each-uisge’s blank, milky eyes, set like two full moons in its inky face. You stooped and pocketed the rounded piece of glass and continued back along the rocky shoreline, skirting deep rock pools and crevices that would lead to a broken leg at best if you slipped into one. For all its beauty, this part of the coastline was treacherous.
With trepidation, you stared at the blow hole in the dark rock for a long time before you mustered your courage and descended into the blackness below.
The sand was smooth and unmarred, the corals still glowed merrily, and the slap of the freezing water against the rock still filled the small, tomb-like space. Other than that, it was lifeless.
You stared at that small stretch of dark water for a long time, half expecting that the creature would burst up through it like a crocodile from a river and seize you like hapless prey, but nothing happened. It seemed that you stood in a timeless space between the underworld and the earth above, waiting for some wraith to emerge. Feeling suddenly foolish, you took out the pebble of sea glass and turned it over in your hand. With a sigh, you bent and left it on the sand before climbing back up and into the daylight.
That was not the last time you found your feet taking you back there, and the next time you went, you found the sandbar as empty as you had the first time, your little sea glass pebble nowhere to be seen. You thought it must have just been swept away by the rising tide, and you left another piece there, higher up this time, and when you returned for your third visit, it too was gone.
You hadn’t managed to find a third piece of glass to leave there this time, so you descended empty handed. To your shock, halfway down, you found not the empty sandbar, but the curled figure of an each-uisge slumbering atop it like a story-book dragon atop a hoard of golden coins.
Its wheezing, rattling breath reminded you of the wind whistling through the rigging of ships, and you froze like a spider on the wall, torn between continuing and returning. It had all been real after all.
Before you had the chance to decide, the creature stirred and raised its head. At the sight of you, its large, elegant ears pricked up and it whickered softly. “You came back,” it murmured. “I don’t believe it.”
Taking a deep breath for courage as fresh fear, and a small trace of relief that this was ‘your’ each-uisge, you asked, “Am I still safe with you?”
The creature bowed its head and snorted. “I swear it, human. No harm will come to you from me.”
Taking that on faith, you nodded and continued your descent until your soles hit hard sand. Completely out of the water like this, the creature was much bigger than you’d realised. Had it been a normal horse, it might have reached sixteen or seventeen hands high; a mount fit for a king or a cavalryman. But this was no ordinary horse.
You let your eyes drink in the full length of that mottled tail, and the each-uisge watched you with amusement as you stared openly at it.
Finally, you asked, “What’s your name?”
Its lips curled softly, as much as its strange jaw would allow, and it said in a low voice, “Rhion.”
“Is that a male or a female name?”
“Male,” he said gently. “May I know yours?” You told him, and he nodded, repeating it. The echo of it on the walls of the cave made you shiver and sent a cold, scraping finger down your spine.
You stepped a little closer and he watched you intently, tilting his head slightly to one side in a manner that reminded you of a young and wary dog.
“Why are you here?” you said. “I thought your kind lived in the deep?”
He smiled again in that subtle way. “I… I thought… perhaps foolishly… that you might come back.” That surprised you, and when it showed on your face, he rasped another laugh. “And here I thought it was you leaving me these little tokens… Was I wrong?”
“Tokens?”
He shifted slightly, parting the forelegs that were folded neatly beneath his equine chest, and you recognised the two milky pieces of sea glass you’d left behind on your previous trips. When he saw your expression, he laughed and said, “I was right then. Why did you leave them?”
Embarrassed and awkward, you mumbled, “They reminded me of your eyes.”
He raised his head at that, and then shook it in soft disbelief, sighing cavernously. Then, to your surprise, he lowered that big, dark head and placed his chin on the sand like a big dog waiting on a porch. His eel’s tail twitched and thumped disconsolately once against the sand.
“What is it?” you asked, stepping nearer before you’d even thought that it could be a trap or a ruse on his part to get you to go close enough for him to snatch you away into the water.
In fact, he didn’t move at all, and only watched you approach. His ears drooped softly, hanging out to the sides like a horse at ease, and you felt so emboldened that you actually knelt down in the damp sand beside him. He kept watching you, but didn’t speak.
You raised your hand and, with only a slight tremble in your fingers, asked silently if you could touch him. He blinked slowly, which you took for assent, and he permitted your hand to rest on his head, just below his ear. He rumbled a wheezing groan, like a wounded animal, at your touch, and his lunar eyes rolled closed.
After that, you explored his body with your hands, stroking his soft, dark coat that was now dry and shone like black silk, and when you came to his belly, where the eel’s tail began, you looked once more to his face for permission.
He just jutted his nose at you in a ‘go ahead’, gesture, and you took a breath and passed over the transition from fur to skin. Where you had perhaps expected it to be slimy, his skin was smooth and dry, tough and leathery, with little bumps and rough patches like sharkskin where the pigmentation differed. He must have registered your surprise, because he admitted sheepishly, as though it were a sin, “I shouldn’t stay out of the water much longer. I’m at risk of drying out completely, but I’ve recently discovered that I love the feeling of the air on my skin…”
“You’re… not what I expected,” you said as you shuffled back towards his head.
He brought his nose to your shoulder and pausing there for a moment, he then began to nuzzle you. His eyes rolled shut again and he blew out a long, slow breath as he tipped his flat cheek against you. “Nor are you,” he said, experimentally inhaling your scent and moaning again. “I was taught that humans would hunt us and lop off our heads to stick on their walls as grotesque trophies, or stuff us and send us to a museum of curiosities…”
“I’m sure some would,” you said quietly.
A beat later he said, “And you think we’re barbaric for hunting you…”
“At least you do it for food… even if you enjoy chase too…”
He laughed and nodded. “Tell me about where you live,”  he said, changing the subject to a less grim topic. “I’d like to hear more about your world.”
So you described the walk up from the harbour, past the shops and the pub with the broken compass on its sign, past the blazing pink geraniums in the window boxes, and then onto the narrow, cobbled streets of the town beyond. “I actually chose my house because of its lovely red door,” you laughed. “I had to have it. It’s a tiny old fisherman’s cottage I think, and there’s barely enough room for me in it, but it’s pretty cute. It’s the only one with a red door on the whole street. The man who owned it before me liked to buck the trend, I think…”
Rhion had been sitting with his head in your lap while you talked, and you played with his coarse forelock, untangling it and gently plaiting a strand into it with idle fingers. Suddenly, he lurched up and scrabbled away from you, his huge hooves nearly clipping your thighs, his ears straining, his gaze locked on the inky pool that led down into the depths of the sea.
“What?” you asked, ready to stand, body tense. “What is it?”
He cocked his head, all his focus on listening. Then he cursed. “You need to leave. Now.”
“What is it?”
“My herd. They’re hunting in the shallows. They…” he broke off and you heard the faint sound like a whale’s call, only shriller. It had the echo of a horse’s whinny to it. “Oh no,” he said, and he shoved you hard with his nose, a desperate gleam in his wide, white eyes. “Go! Please… They’ve caught your scent. They’re coming. If they find you here with me they’ll… they’ll…”
He was scrambling to get back into the water, his tail thrashing and sending salt spray everywhere as it hit the shallows. Water splattered across your face in a cold chain of fat drops and as it ran down your cheek you were reminded viscerally of the time you’d hit your head as a child and blood had run down your face. You rose and reeled backwards until the rough rock was at your back and he was staring at you. His jaw opened and he made the unearthly sound a horse makes in immense distress. It struck you to your core and as his mouth opened in that guttural scream of pain and anguish, you froze.
“Go! Please! They’ll kill you if they find you here. Go, and don’t ever come back!” he said in a horrible rush.
You scuttled back up the rock as fast as you could, but your muscles locked when you heard him scream.
You looked down and saw that another each-uisge had breached the surface beside him. It lunged for you, but Rhion jostled his shoulder against it and it stumbled, rounding on him with a vicious snarl. It opened its immense jaw full of sharp teeth and latched onto Rhion’s neck. Thrashing, Rhion was dragged screaming below and the waters seethed, empty and broiling, until you finally fled.
His was not your world, and you tried to put it behind you as you sped back up the beach towards the town. You couldn’t shake his final scream from your mind and it haunted you long into the night.
Too unsettled, it was long after midnight before you’d even thought of going to bed, and as you finally rose from the sofa, you heard an irregular scratching at your front door. Frowning, you stood, thinking perhaps it was a cat or even a fox, but even as you stood there, the scratching became a weak thudding.
Peering through the peephole revealed nothing, so you opened it cautiously, nerves thrumming.
Half collapsed on the step was the naked figure of a scrawny, wiry young man. In the moonlight, you could see that his pale skin was green and mottled like dappled shadow on fallen leaves, but it was slashed with cuts and - horrifically - deep puncture wounds arranged in an arc. Bite marks. Blood tracked down his torso and thigh in thin ribbons to his bare feet.
And as he looked up at you, you saw those dead white eyes from behind a curtain of lank, wet, black hair. “Rhion?” you asked, darting forwards as he swayed, half doubled over already.
He smiled, though it was weak and obviously pained. “I knew you’d recognise me,” he said, pitching forwards as his balance failed him and his legs wobbled. “I didn’t know where else to go. I remembered your story… I… I found you…”
“Come on,” you said, hooking an arm under his and guiding him inside. Blood dripped onto the flagstones as you led him towards the kitchen and eased him into a wooden chair. You had emergency supplies, and told him you’d be right back as you darted upstairs to fetch lint dressings and bandages. You were no surgeon, but they didn’t look deep enough to need stitches. You couldn't exactly take him to a hospital anyway.
When you came back he was just sitting there, staring around.
“Rhion?”
He turned vaguely and smiled at you. “Thank you,” he said faintly. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” you asked as you got to work on cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. He hissed at you in protest at the antiseptic, but let you continue.
“They said I should have caught you and brought you to them. They said I was a disgrace. They said I betrayed my own kind.” His chest heaved. “I barely got away.”
“I didn’t know your kind could take a human form,” you said carefully as you encouraged him to lean forwards a little so that you could wrap the bandage around his ribcage where the worst of the bite marks were. Luckily he wasn’t bleeding through the dressing. Each-uisge it seemed were much tougher than humans. You wiped up the blood that had trickled down his skinny legs with a kind of clinical detachment, despite your growing curiosity about him. You wondered if it felt strange for him to have legs now.
He huffed a rather sharp laugh and said, “It’s… It’s not something we can do as easily as our kelpie cousins,” he said. “It nearly killed me to shift. I won’t be changing back for a while.”
“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t stay here…” you added, easing him back against the chair so he could catch his breath and running your thumb across his gaunt, unusual face. “We don’t tend to get too many humans with green skin like yours…”
Rhion laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I just had to get away. I suppose I’ll go back to the sea and find a new herd somewhere far away.”
Your heart lurched at that and you thought that perhaps he saw a little of your emotion because his pale greenish-grey lips twitched softly.
“You should rest a while first,” you said. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed.”
His thighs trembled as you helped him up and tried not to stare at him. Anatomically, he resembled a biologically male human in every way except for the colour of his blotchy olive green and grey skin, and you wanted to afford him at least a little dignity as you supported him up the stairs and into your bedroom.
Rhion eyed your bed warily as you looked about for some clothes and found a baggy t-shirt that you usually used to sleep in. You dressed him in it so that he wouldn’t get cold and would at least be a little covered, but when you eased him down onto the mattress, he groaned with pleasure and sank gratefully onto it, moaning as you drew the sheet up over his body.
“Where will you sleep?” he asked, his words softly articulated and almost slurred with his exhaustion.
“There’s a sofa downstairs,” you said, but he frowned.
“Stay?” he said. “I… I’ve never slept on land before.”
“You’re afraid?”
He didn’t speak for such a long time you thought he might have passed out. “Yes,” he said very quietly without looking at you.
With a smile, you crossed to the other side of the bed and undressed. You felt his eyes on your back, but he said nothing. Wearing your pyjamas, you climbed into bed beside him. He kept his distance, lying very still, and you weren’t sure if that was because of his injuries or because of his manners.
It took a long time for you to fall asleep, though Rhion was unconscious in mere seconds, jaw slack, delicate fingers softly curled beside his sharp features, eyes tracking back and forth behind his closed lids. His long black hair flowed all the way down his back and it was still damp. The braid that you’d plaited into it while you’d told him the story that would later save his life, probably, was still there and you fought the urge to touch it. You thought vaguely that you should have washed the seawater out of it before letting him sleep on your pillow, but somehow you couldn’t muster up quite enough energy to care.
When dawn came, sensation filtered slowly back into your awareness, and you opened your eyes to find him trailing his fingers along the inside of your wrist. You smiled up at him and he jumped when he realised that you were awake.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t meant to disturb you.”
You inhaled thickly and shuffled slightly. “You didn’t,” you said. “I still can’t quite believe this is real though…”
Rhion’s smile was sad.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” he admitted, shuffling his mottled green torso experimentally. “And… I’m scared.”
“You can stay here as long as you need,” you said, reaching for his skinny, pale green fingers and clutching them suddenly. “You don’t have to face them yet.”
“Thank you,” he rasped, his milky eyes swimming with tears. Were it not for the accuracy of his gaze, you might have thought those eyes were sightless.
You brought his knuckles to your lips and kissed them softly. A shaky breath escaped him and his smile broadened, crinkling his eyes and bringing little curving dimples to his gaunt cheeks.
“I don’t scare you any more, do I?” he asked.
You shook your head just a little and kissed him again.
“When I’m better,” he said, “I’d like… I mean…”
“I know,” you grinned. “I think I’d like that too. For now, rest and heal. Everything else will come afterwards.”
His tired eyes fluttered and he allowed himself to fall back into a healing, dreamless sleep while you watched over him for the time being.
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monsterwishes · a year ago
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Desire {Male Naga x Reader}
The door shuts with a slightly louder bang than intended as you try to juggle numerous groceries and your belongings in your hands. Shuffling over to the kitchen, you manage to set everything down without injury before calling out, “I’m home!”
Your voice rings out within the rather large and tall studio. The slithering of scales and the telltale sign of paper crumbling alerts you of your lover in the loft upstairs, “I’m up here.”
Bounding up the steps, you are greeted by the usual sight of your reptilian lover. He is covered in various colors ranging from blue to white to colors you didn’t even think would be humanely possible to create, his once tan skin now a rainbow. The paint even spreads from his hands, to his slightly scraggly hair, to the tops of his arms and all over his black, yellow and red stripped tail. However, the canvas underneath him is also covered in the same ink. He pauses the music player and greets you with a fanged smile, quick kiss, and then grabs a drink of water. “What do you think?”
You look down at the thin canvas surrounded by rosin paper as it is twisted and splashed with the same colors on your lover; but like always you think he is more beautiful, especially when covered in color. But, you don’t tell him that…his ego is too much as it is. “What’s this piece going to be called?” You carefully step around it to get a better perspective.
His breath is unsteady from working, “Desire.” Ah, it shouldn’t have come as a surprised he would have chosen one word. He always chooses a single word for his pieces, but he was never much of a talker either. Perhaps, that’s why he is the famous Eno the Naga Artist. His pieces are one of a kind, no piece the same and never replicated. Using his entire body as he dances with the paint. Literally. Your favorite piece of his would be the one titled Everyday. He didn’t dance like usual, but his method was definitely unique that day. He did his normal day to day routine and had the canvas follow him around with the paint recording his movements. You had to help with this piece which included moving it and then cleaning up after him. Though, getting it out of his scales was the absolute worst as most the paint had managed to dry due to how long it took him to complete the piece.
Breaking out of your train of thoughts, you notice something new and something different. There were several white patches on the canvas, “Are you…struggling with this piece, Eno?” His raised brow requires further explanation. “You never leave an empty space on your canvases…there are several.”
Taking one more gulp of water, he twists the cap back on before turning to you. “I was hoping to try something new. The dance I’m doing I’ll need your help.”
“What do-“ he grabs your hand and pulls you close. The sudden yank surprises you as you go tumbling in the paint and now his canvas has several red and two blue footprints from your shoes. “Eno! Your painting! Why-“
He cuts you off again as he gently puts a finger to your lips and places your hands around his neck and his on your waist. “Dance with me?” Well…how were you supposed to say no to that? Placing an earbud in your ear, you both begin to dance across the canvas as colors and hearts tangle into one piece.
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sneezysmonsterlovin · 2 years ago
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Tiefling Boyfriend
 A/N: I accidentally posted this to the wrong blog lol woops. Sorry if it sucks, I kinda rushed it right before bed. Going to England for a couple of weeks so I will be extra lazy in posting
Still not edited very well
Warnings: Uhh misunderstandings?? I don’t actually street preform so sorry If It’s stupid inaccurate 
Word Count: 1,845 I believe
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     Everyday that you went into town, you always made sure to pass through the central square. You usually only went to town on Sundays, and sometimes Wednesdays, but you swore up and down to your friends that it was just a coincidence. That’s right, it had nothing to do with the charming tiefling dressed neatly in a white button up and black slacks.
You didn’t go to get a glimpse of the grace he exuded while dancing, and you definitely didn’t commission a large portion of your spending money to songs that you only dreamed he’d dance too before he’d open the requests.
No, he was far from your mind as you dashed to the open clearing, bordered by large colorful plants and streetlamps, crosswalks leading towards the towering city buildings all around you. But it wouldn’t hurt to stop and look would it?
You stopped in your tracks as the soft, up-beat music filled the afternoon air. His horns were the first thing you saw, protruding out of the sides of his head before twisting high into the air. They were the same dark, stormy blue as the rest of him. Although, as you recalled, his arms (and legs, you assumed) faded into an even darker purple, verging the color black. As you slid through the crowd, eyes stuck to his breathtaking figure, you realized he was in a different outfit today.
He still wore the white button up and slacks, though now he wore a clean black jacket and tie, and his long white hair was braided back into a sort of crown. His stereo and speakers were in the same place as usual, a bucket beside it labeled ‘TIPS’ in it’s respective spot. Though now, there sat a vase of flowers, a beautiful eye-catching shade you’d have to remember the next time you went to buy some.
It was almost as if he were dressed for a date. And as you observed his fluid movement, twisting and spinning in circles expertly, the song faded from the up-beat melody from before into a much smoother and delicate song. He slowed, and for a second you thought he made eye contact with the beautiful young orc beside you, whose yellow green skin contrasted so brightly compared to his. You realized, with that sparkle in his eyes that you brushed off as your imagination and all the other small details that he’d found someone.
You couldn’t help but feel let down, heart sagging heavily in your chest for the unrequited feelings. Feelings, you reminded yourself, for a stranger. A stranger that you’d only been watching for almost a year. You winced silently at that, almost ashamed of yourself for attending his performances. It was your fault though. If you’d only made a move sooner, then maybe you’d get a chance.
And with that, you shuffled through the wad of cash and gently pulled the white card you’d spent weeks preparing out, stuffing it into your back pocket to be forgotten and tossed out later, then silently making your way around the gorgeous tiefling man to drop the money into the bucket and going on your way.
~~
“Wait! Please!”
You hoped, with all your heart, that the soothing, lilted voice that shouted out was not for you. Your day had been filled with moping about as you finished your weekly shopping, stocking up so that you wouldn’t have to return for another month. But, your wishes went unheard as you were gently halted by a narrow purple hand. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the shade, and you turned around quickly.
You were disappointed though, as the tiefling man in front of you was not the one you’d been hoping for. He’d had the same skin, though his horns were longer and his hair was shorter and choppy. He looked younger, with a rounder face and wider eyes.
“Can I help you?” You asked warily, only wishing to be rid of the heavy bags you carried.
“No need, I was just asked by my brother to fetch you.” He gasped for breath, and you bemusedly thought he must’ve ran quite the distance to catch up with you for him to be this out of breath. “You know, the Dashing Dancer? You usually stay longer at his preformances, and so he had a special one planned and well... Please follow me.”
“A special dance?” You’d raised an eyebrow at that. The man flushed,whipping around to begin walking as you followed.
“N....Not like, how you’re thinking. It’s just...different. And he really wanted you to see it.” He mumbled, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. You nodded, and observed your surroundings silently as he led you back to Central Square.
As you arrived, the sun had shrunk farther beneath the horizon and the streetlights were beginning to flicker on. Most of the crowd had left, and the tiefling led you to his brother in shy silence. You wondered if you’d embarrassed him.
You were led to stop in the front and center of the remaining crowd, directly in front of the pretty man you’d been fawning over these past months. He was staring straight at you, and you tried not to blush as he slowly began to walk towards you.
“May I have this dance?” He asked sweetly, his voice deeper than you’d imagined. He was smiling now, teeth glinting in the faint sunlight. You efforts not to turn a shade of pink were forgotten, and you blushed violently as everyones stare now fell to you.
“I...Don’t know how to dance.” You whispered, trying to save yourself from anymore embarresment. It was a lie, you’d taking a handful of dance classes after seeing his preformances and were able to do so decently now, but you were never all that great at preforming to a crowd so suddenly. Not one that was glaring at you with judgemental eyes, ready to whisper about the failure that the Dashing Dancer had plucked out of the crowd.
“No? Then, I’ll lead. But please join me, dear. I don’t know how you haven’t noticd me showing off to you yet.” He chuckled, gently taking your hand and waiting for you to accept with hopeful eyes. You looked up at him in surprise, slowly nodding and letting yourself be led once again. Though now, your heart beat against your chest so painfully you thought you might die.
The song he played was slow and smooth, matching that pace to almost one of a waltz. He spun you gently before pulling you close to him, turning together to the melody.
You looked up at him, and took notice of the white freckles that made you think of stars sprinkled across his cheeks and bridge of his nose.
“You know, I was trying to ask you out earlier.” He whispered into your ear, and you looked up at him in surprise. He nodded, chuckling just as quietly. “Yep, flowers, romantic music, suit and all.”
“You were?” You gasped, before giggling. “I thought you were being lovey dovey for your lover.” You whispered and he pulled his head away, eyebrows raised in surprise. This time you noticed a piercing in his eyebrow.
“Love, I can assure you, I’ve been single for almost three years now.” He smiled softly, albeit a bit lonely. You smiled back, hesitantly leaning your head against his chest as you danced. His heart seemed to match pace with yours, you snickered. “Ah, you can tell, huh? I’m afraid I’m as lovesick as a teenage boy.”
You blushed harder, giggling a bit uncontrollalbly. “You move around just as lively, too.”
“I assume that’s a compliment, but I don’t know if I should take it as one.” He laughed, and pulled away as the song came to an end. “So...” He trailed, off... peering into your eyes just as hopefully as he looked when he first asked you to dance.
“I was going to give this too you before I changed my mind, but I think I ought to now.” You hummed, pulling the card you’d written out and gently placing it in his hands. “I best be off, but I look forward to your texts. I think I’ll take you up on the offer of a date, if it still stands.” You glanced up at him, smiling softly as his cheeks darkened.
“It does.” He grinned happily. “I just wish my flowers survived the day.”
“It’s no problem,” You assured, “I’ll see you soon.” You reached up, placing a hand upon his left cheek and your lips upon his right. You felt his cool skin heat beneath you, and as you pulled away he leaned towards your smaller hand.
“Soon...” He muttered, smiling widely at his brother who’d taken it upon himself to shoo the crowd and let them have their moment.
“But not soon enough.”
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loousir · 3 months ago
Text
[Werewolf] Hidden in the Meadows
Pack Alpha Werewolf Male x Injured Male Reader
Casey
Warnings: Not sure what I should put here this time?
Masterlist | Part Two (WIP) |
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A rustling of leaves caught the large black wolf's attention. His piercing blue eyes looked over to where the sound originated from. Heavy footsteps were also picked up by the wolf and they were quickly fading. His body moved swiftly, chasing after them.
A few minutes of chasing had passed when he came out to a massive clearing in the middle of the forest. There was a small town-esk camp far in the center of it. From the place where the forest met the plains, it looked like a miniature. There was a figure shrouded by the moon standing not too far into the field, staring at the camp.
The wolf remained still yet ready to pounce the second the figure stepped any closer than it already was. Suddenly, the figure dropped, almost disappearing thanks to the grass. The wolf carefully walked over to the figure and sniffed the air around it. His pupils dilated slightly as he had begun to smell blood. He didn't smell it before but when he approached he saw that the figure was shirtless with bleeding lines all along his back.
"Shit..." The wolf said as he suddenly turned into a "human". He lifted the other, careful of the still open wounds on his back and started to carry him to that village in the middle of the field.
--3rd POV--
"Boss! What the hell happened?" A lanky man asked jogging up to the other.
"Get Garreth to my cabin now." Casey's words were strong and demanding, making the other do what was told without hesitation. Casey carried the wounded man with his strong arms to his cabin home with ease.
He kicked the door open, accidentally breaking it in the process. 'I'll fix it later...' He thought to himself as he set the mystery man on his sofa, making sure he wouldn't suffocate or anything. Said mystery man was still breathing and his heart was still beating but his wounds did not look good. Casey walked off to the kitchen to grab some supplies before going to clean the wounds as best he could before Garreth got there.
"Yo, Case, what did you- oh shit." Garreth saw the state of the other on the couch slung the bag off his shoulder before moving Casey to the side and doing his magical medical things. Casey watched as the other worked on the wounds, carefully closing them with the mist that emitted from his hands. Garreth gently wrapped the males back with bandages, asking Casey to help hold him up.
They lay the male down again and take a step back from him. "He should be fine and will probably wake up soon." Casey nods. "Thank you, Garreth." The aforementioned male nodded and gathered his things before leaving Casey's cabin.
'What the hell am I doing. Bringing a wounded human who could become a serious threat into the village...'
'Gods... What has gotten into me lately...'
--2nd POV--
You groaned as you woke up to the sound of a pot clanging against the floor. Your eyes were squinted as you tried to focus and comprehend what was happening. Casey seemed to take notice of your awakening. "Shit, sorry." He said setting the pot he picked up on the stove and putting the one in his other hand away. "Where am I..?" You asked quietly. Casey doesn't respond but walks over to the other.
"How are you feeling?" You flinched away from his hand as you sat up, pressing yourself against the sofa. The instant you did you hissed and pulled your back away from it. "You have to relax. You got pretty bad lacerations on your back and our medic can only do so much." You shook your head and tried to stand but instantly fell back to the couch. "No, I have to go, I can't be here."
You tried to stand once more and did so successfully but Casey sat you back down on the couch. "No, you are in no shape to be moving right now." You looked up to his scolding eyes, his gaze almost compelling you to do as told. You nodded and got comfortable on the couch as he walked back into the kitchen. He started to get ingredients and prepare food. From a glance out the window, you could only assume it was dinner.
You watched him cook, the form-fitting black button-up he wore showed the muscles on his arms and back. His long black hair was tied back into a messy bun.
Casey worked fluently in the kitchen and eventually the pleasant aroma from what he was making caught your attention once more. After a few more minutes, you had been looking out the window when you heard two glass dishes get set down on the table in front of you. One was a glass of water and the other was a shallow bowl with pieces of chicken and a white-colored soup/sauce.
"It's Avgolemono. A lemon chicken soup." He said, standing back up fully. You watched as he walked back to the kitchen and sat at the island that divided it from the living room. "Thank you." You mumbled out, going for the water first and nearly drinking all of it.
Some time had passed and both of you had finished eating. Currently, you were still on the same sofa and Casey was sitting on an armchair next to the lit fireplace. "I'm Casey." He said, glancing up to you momentarily before looking back to the fire. "(Y/n)." You didn't take your eyes off the fire. "I would offer to watch TV but... I don't have one at the moment."
Casey said awkwardly, fidgeting in his seat slightly. "It's ok... Can I ask you how I got here in what... I'm assuming... Is your home?" He looked up to you and nodded. "I was on patrol around my village and caught sight of you heading towards it so I followed you through the forest to the tall grass. You collapsed and passed out when I got to you and when I saw you were injured... I wasn't gonna let you die out there and wait for one of the pu- youngin's to find your corpse."
You nodded and pulled your knees to your chest. "Thank you, Casey." You said looking down to your feet. Even though you couldn't see it, you could tell he was looking at you. "Can I ask why you were running through the forest in the state you were in?" You looked up to him and you locked eyes.  "I... Shouldn't stay long because of it... I don't want your village to suffer my punishment..."
Casey's brows furrowed and he tilts his head slightly. "Tell me what you're running from." You looked down to your feet. "Vampires. I have to leave tonight. I don't want them to do-" "Don't worry about it. They won't step foot in this place. You need to heal." He said, cutting you off. "Why?" You asked without thinking. "Are you afraid of big dogs?" You furrowed your brows slightly, confused at the question before realizing.
"Wait your..." Casey nods. "The whole village is besides an acception or two." You nodded slowly and looked away. "You can stay here until your healed and if you want to leave you can. I won't stop you." You looked back over to him. "Where would I stay?"
"If you plan on staying for the long haul you can stay here till we can get a cabin built for you. And I'll pay for it so you can get your bearings here." Your eyes widened slightly and Casey shrugs and looks away. "No, no you don't have to do that. I'm sure I could figure something out." You said softly, watching as his lips pressed into a straight line. "It's ok. I'm the village chief. I want everyone who lives here to be comfortable."
Your eyes watered and you looked down to the floor. Casey wasn't too sure what to do but you suddenly got off the couch and hugged him tightly. You were half on Casey and half laying on the floor. "Thank youuu~ This doesn't feel real at all..." You said, crying into his shirt slightly. Casey was tense for a moment before pulling you up properly and hugging you, careful of the wounds on your back.
"Thank you... Thank you so much Casey...You- you don't know what this means to me..." Casey doesn't say anything but gently places a hand on the back of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, effectively calming you down. The two of you stayed like that for some time until Casey picked you up. You blushed and looked up at him. He didn't look at you but went on to carry you to one of the bedrooms.
"I kind of use this room more as an office but it has a bed so..." He said sitting you down on said bed. "I'll get you a change of clothes and if you want to shower I'll help with the bandages... Bathrooms right across the hall..." Casey said walking out the of room, leaving the door cracked slightly. You looked around the neatly decorated room but let your eyes linger on the messy desk, some papers catching your gaze.
'I really shouldn't...'
Your eyes looked back to the door to see Casey looking at you holding some dark-colored clothing. "I tried to find what would fit best." He said setting them down next to you. "I'll leave you. I'm gonna go get ready for bed." He pauses for a moment. "I know you're afraid of me but... Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything." His eyes glanced back up to yours before he closed the door, leaving you to your own.
---
The next morning the sun shone brightly through the small window. You shifted uncomfortably in the bed, not wanting to get out of it. You simply lay on your back with your eyes closed. A few moments had passed when you heard a gentle knock on the door before it slowly opened. You looked over to said door and saw Casey cautiously peek his head through the door. "Morning." You mumbled out to him, voice still not awake yet.
Casey nods his head slightly. "Would you like something for breakfast?" He asked, pushing the door open a bit more and leaning on the doorframe. You nodded and stood out of bed. Casey's shirt was rather large against your frame even if it was close to your size. The shorts you wore sagged slightly so you pulled them up before yawning and stretching. Casey watched the whole time before breaking his gaze and walking back to the kitchen.
You followed not too far behind him, taking in his house as you did. It was small and cozy with minimal decoration, saying he often wasn't home. "Your house is nice Casey." You commented while he pulled out a stool at the island for you to sit on. You thanked him and sat down before he went around into the kitchen.
"Does an Omelet sound good?" He asked looking back to you after pulling out a pan that he deemed to be the right size. "Sure." You said, looking down and playing with your fingers. "I washed what you were wearing but you didn't have a shirt so I can get you another one of mine. We can go buy some clothes today." Casey spoke with his back towards you as he was leaning down, rummaging through the fridge to find the ingredients he needed. You didn't say anything but looked up to his eyes when he looked back to you.
"Sorry, is that ok I did that?" He asked, setting the eggs down in a bowl on the counter. You nod, not saying anything again. "Your pants and... Briefs... are in the dryer if you would like to change into them." You nodded again and hopped off the stool to do so.
Once you came back, Casey was wearing an apron over his casual day clothes which included a black button up that had its sleeves neatly rolled and black pants. He wore socks but no shoes. "Are you ok?" Casey suddenly asks as your sitting back down. "Yeah." He looks back to you for a moment while the food cooks for a bit.
"Tell me what's wrong." He said as the two of you locked eyes. You looked away quickly, still hesitant. Casey sighed and went back to cooking. "I'm sorry, I just... I know when someone's lying to me. I'm better a listener than I am a talker so it's strange I've been saying so much." He rambled out. "Its better to get that stuff off your chest. Not communicating gets us nowhere."
You bit your bottom lip and looked up to the back of his head. His hair was tied into a messy bun, much like the night before. "Why are you doing all of this for me. We met just last night and you're talking about building me a house, buying me clothes, you're even letting me live in your house and cooking for me. I don't get it..." Casey turns back to you with the omlete he finished.
"To be honest." He said before setting the plate down in front of you with a fork. "I... Don't know..." There was a moment of silence. "Oh, do you want ketchup? Hot sauce?" There was another moment of silence before you broke it by giggling. "Sorry. That was just, such a hard tangent." Casey's face noticeably lights up with a blush and you tell him what you wanted.
There was still some doubt in the back of your mind that there may be some sort of ulterior motive behind Casey's actions but... You would enjoy it for now.
----- 2336 (not proof read) Maybe part 2
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