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koolades-world · 4 months

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Happy Birthday Mc!

today is my birthday so I decided to make a special post in celebration! this usually won't happen but I figured I'd put in a little extra effort for the occasion!!!

Lucifer

"It's your birthday? Have my best wishes. Meet me in the garden behind the house after dinner. I have a surprise for you. See you then."

treats you to anything you said you wanted over the past year

expect flowers, a giant cake, and dinner at the fanciest place he could find

he feels like he doesn't appreciate you enough, so he practically treats you like royalty

lets you cuddle him to your hearts content <3

Mammon

"Happy birthday, human! What, did ya think I forgot? Of course I didn't. Here, I got this for ya. Get ready for a day of fun with your best man!"

so excited that it's your birthday and goes all out

he's never spent so much money on someone that wasn't himself before, but he couldn't thank you more for everything

makes sure you don't have to lift a single finger, even if you fight him on it

gives you a cute little birthday crown that he made himself, and of course, you wear it with glee

Levi

"Happy birthday! Gah, I hope that didn't sound stupid. I spent forever practicing... You're still listening!? Forget you heard that! This is for you. I hope you like it. It took me a month to decide."

he's so so nervous about giving you your gift, but he makes himself give it to you

he gives you merch for your favorite game that you never thought you'd see in person

also gifts you in game currency for your favorite gacha game since he understands the grind

at the end of the day, he gives you a tight hug before running off, embarrassed

Satan

"Good morning, love. Happy birthday. If you're ready, shall we go out for breakfast? You are? Perfect. I have the day planned just to your liking."

he's got the entire day planned, including all your favorite things and romantic moments

each gift he gives is given at a specific time with a specific meaning

even organizes a trip to the human world so you can visit your family and friends

your day ends in his arms as he reads you a book

Asmo

"Happy birthday gorgeous! You look just amazing. Now, before you say anything, open this. Do you like it? Turn around so I can put it on you!"

totally takes you shopping! even goes as far as to rent out the entire store for you

photo shoot with all the fun new outfits you make

fancy dinner and a large party where you're the center of attention

of course, he pampers you at the end of the day with a nice bath and a massage

Beel

"Happy birthday, Mc. I wasn't really sure what to get you, so I hope you like it. There's a cake for you in the kitchen, but don't wait too long to eat it. I'm hungry."

thought very hard about what to get you, and ask around to get ideas

eventually, he decided to give you something small and offer to take you on a hike somewhere remote and beautiful

treats the day pretty much normal, until he reveals the cake that he made for you

it wasn't perfect, but it meant the world to you that he made it and didn't eat it

Belphie

"Ahh, happy birthday. Your first gift is in my room. What's with the surprise? Just because I sleep so much doesn't mean I'm forgetful."

secretly the best gift giver

he makes it so there's a surprise around each corner for you throughout your day

also gives you a beautiful handwritten letter

one of the few days he's actively awake the entire time

Diavolo

"Happy birthday, sunshine!! I know how much birthdays means to humans, so I went all out. Follow me to the first surprise!"

goes all out and makes the entire Devildom celebrate!

makes it a holiday and gives everyone the day off, so he has more time with you

except the biggest celebration you've ever had

researches into human birthday traditions and plans a cute party including a pinata

Barbatos

"Mc, happy birthday. May your day be filled with many joys. The cake I made for you should be just to your liking. I hope you'll enjoy it."

gives you a beautiful hand made card with his gorgeous calligraphy

treats you to a fancy tea party! super fancy with all your favorite sweets

cooks you your favorite food <3

also says the cutest things to you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world

Simeon

"Hello! Happy birthday! Lucifer told me you were having a party at the House of Lamentation later. Expect to see me there, but I hope you don't mind if I steal you for now?"

most of his gifts are handmade!

expect a cake he made and help with all your daily tasks so you can get to fun sooner

wants to make sure your day is perfect and extra special

prepares you a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the day for enjoying with your favorite movie

Solomon

"Happy birthday, my apprentice. Now, I know this is a little late, but what do you want for your birthday besides my company? Any potion you want made or wish you want granted? Oh, I can do that. Consider it done, beautiful."

pretends like he forgot your birthday at first, but does a 180 and showers you with all sorts of things

gets you a brand new coat that looks suspiciously like his and when you call him out, he acts like he has no clue what you're talking about

takes you to dinner somewhere casual, but treats you like royalty

he pampers you that night and feeds you dessert <3

Luke

"Happy birthday Mc! Will you open my gift right now? I'm so excited! Do you like it? I blessed it myself so those yucky demons won't be able to steal it. Really? Yay!"

so excited to celebrate with you!

he makes all your favorite desserts, and gives you a lot of little things he gather over the year for you

practically attaches himself to your side all day

talks your ear off!! and wishes you happy birthday at least five times and reminds everyone else to as well

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

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softlyspector · 6 months

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here's the little halloween fic that was scrapped! vampire!reader x joel miller.

wc: 700

warnings: love as being consumed, blood drinking, smut 🥰

“It’s all right, baby,” he murmurs. “You just take what you need.”

You hate the way he says that, the sigh of it, the hollowing out of his lungs with it. Like ecstasy and want, need and breaking, all in one. He grunts when the sharp stick of your incisors break the skin of his throat.

He groans, the sound broken and pained and found all in one.

Joel would never know, never believe you, maybe, but he tastes sweet. Sweet, and just a little bitter. It’s not a cloying sweetness, but the kind that goes down easy, your favorite taste, favorite meal.

“Tha’s it,” he mumbles, his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers digging into the base of your skull. His other hand is anchored to your hip, keeping you close to his chest, pressed heart to heart in a sickening pounding of pumping blood, visceral and bloody.

You drink and drink, pull and pull. Joel’s muscles twitch minutely beneath you, the tendon in his neck straining until he loosens.

But his heart is a dull pounding in your ears, quick and sure, steady and strong, slowing as he calms, holding your mouth firm and heavy against his jugular with one large hand.

Your mind goes hazy with the taste of him, fog clouding any coherent thought.

He loves you, wants you always. His cock is hard against your thigh; his hand slides from your hip to your core, his fingers dipping between your thighs and against the damp heat of your pussy.

He’s a bit older than you normally take to but his heart is strong and sure. The pulse of it tempts you closer, entices you to reach between the slats of his ribs and bite right into his lungs. You could pick your teeth after, with the sharp points of his ribs. You want to gorge yourself fat and sated on his blood.

No, you don’t usually go for older humans; too acrid, sour. But you also don’t usually feel anything for the humans either.

This one, willingly opening his throat to you, he’s special. You like him. You have for so long, and so you have to pull away, away from the sweet drip of his blood that you’d like to suck down to the very marrow.

Wearily, reluctantly, you peel yourself away. He looks woozy, drunk; pupils blown wide with want, a different kind of hunger. He wants to see you fed and bloody.

“You already got everything you need?” He asks, confusion coloring his voice.

So willing, this one, this human, to give whatever you might need. You like that about him, that he wants to feed you, see you satiated and glutted and lazy with his blood.

He’s aroused, too. The venom makes him easier to pull apart, connective need stitching you together, want blanketing him.

You know Joel when you aren’t hungry though, and he wants you then, too, wants to give and give and bleed.

“No,” you lick your lips and then the thin stream of blood trickling down his neck, pooling at his clavicle.

The warm rich thickness of his blood explodes across your tongue. He smells good, too. He smells needy, like the salty tang of life.

“You ain’t done,” he says and urges your head back down. “You take what you need, baby,” he says again, inhaling deeply against your cheek.

“I shouldn’t,” you murmur. “You could die.”

“Haven’t killed me yet,” he disagrees, still stroking the back of your neck. His other hand is cupping your pussy, thumb twitching over your clit. You grind down against his fingers, and he gives you one and then another, fucking you gently with a groan that vibrates in his throat. You’re wet, coating him in you in so many ways.

You might yet kill him though, and it’s unfortunate he’s your favorite now. When you say as much, he urges you back to his throat, a tinge of desperation in the way he’s touching you, rutting up against you, the bulge of him dragging against your thigh. “Drink,” his voice is hoarse.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #this was meant to be another little kinda character study on joel lmao #always studying that man like a bug under a microscope

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cadmusfly · 1 month

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A dragon without treasure is a pitiful and dangerous thing.

Dragons are hungry and voracious beasts. The larger ones, bigger than elephants, should be feasting on a herd of cattle a day; yet the civilised ones do not strip the land bare to feed their appetites. This is because they may draw their sustenance not just from meat but also the things they treasure.

The image of a dragon on a pile of gold is a stereotype for a reason, and of course it is easy for anyone to hold valuable metal and grand works of art dear to their hearts. But a dragon’s treasure need not be so grossly material. A forest that one used to gambol in as a hatchling, a town for which one feels fondness, a childish scrawl from a precious godchild, a loyal friend be they human or dragon or animal, a single tree, a polished rock, a beloved rider; anything may be treasured by a dragon as long as the dragon feels that sense of ownership.

This is mine. This is what I love, this is what I protect. Even, perhaps, this is what I hate - but not in a destructive way, no, this potential hatred would be a fond bitterness that would break one’s heart if it was to disappear.

It is greed, but it is not necessarily evil. It is selfishness, but it is not necessarily malevolent. It is gluttony, but not necessarily one of taking. Of course, a dragon may be evil, malevolent and ruinous, but so may a human.

And a dragon may dream so deeply of these treasures that as they sleep - and dragons sleep so long and soundly that they are like the dead, especially after exhaustion or wounding - that they may see through the eyes of their beloved people, that they may haunt the locations and objects as immaterial spirits, that they may know the health and well-being of what they own. They may even, if invited, act in conjunction with their treasure’s will, taking the truest gift of willing control; but this is only with the strongest of bonds or the most synchronous of emotions.

So a dragon with enough of these treasures does not need to eat so much or to sleep so much.

But a dragon without anything to care for is a hungry and voracious beast. It will not live for long; if it is not killed in its desperate attempts to hunt enough meat to fill its aching belly, then it will starve even as it gorges itself on rotting flesh. If it is injured, then it will fall into the convalescent stupor common to its kind, and only through decades or centuries of mindless dreams with no treasure to hasten the process will it regain the strength to return to insensate existence.

Perhaps it could pull itself back from that brink, but how could anybody love such a wretched thing?

How could it bring itself to love anything, after it has been forsaken for so long?

A dragon not treasured is a dangerous and piteous thing.

#cadmus writes #marshalate dragons au #dragons #just a bit of poetic worldbuilding

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androgynousblackbox · 2 months

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Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 9 [Radioapple, Appleradio]

"Mmm? Oh right, I still have to do this.

I mean, good morning, dear friends! How are you all waking up today? Refreshed up? With a load of new energy to carry and face a new day? I truly hope so, because a day like no other is exactly what we are going to get.

But don't let me too ahead of myself. As any cooker know, you must let the food simmer for a bit, to cook on it's own juices, before hastly just gorging it out like a pag. And here, in Hazbin Vale, if there is anything that we have is class. Manners. Patience.

We have waited for so long, dear listener. We can take it as calmly as it comes.

Last night I am sure some of you noticed a distinctive lack of moon and stars on the cloudless sky. And if you didn't, well, now you know!

If any of you had ever bothered to pay more attention to it, then you would have also realized that stars systematically have been falling from the sky for a while now, one by one. It was actually quite an impressive view, but my, my, everyone is so busy right now that nobody was outside admiring the espectacle.

Truly a pity. When the end comes, the least you could do is watch.

I saw it all from here the entire night. I didn't want to risk it. As it turns out, desk of studios make for a horrible bed! Who knew!

But I am told to tell you all to not worry at all. Carry on as usual. The sun just looks bigger than normal and less warm because of some astronomic mambo jambo nonsense I do not care at all, so you shouldn't either. What we have above our heads, dear listeners, and also right under our feets, is so beyond our understanding that sometimes we should avoid questioning it at all.

The cemetery and community center are from today both open. Everything is out in the open now. There is absolutely no place to hide. You might satiate your insatiable curiosities to your heart's content all that you like without any concern. If you are ever so lucky, you might find that a nice surprise that will make it quick for you.

Interpretate that as nasty as you want if that will make you stop being a stain on the surfice of the earth, listener.

The cave on the outskirt of town has finally cave in. Oh, we do have to admire how much it managed to stay as it was for, well, for even longer than I have been alive. That is quite impressive. Let's give an applause for the rocks that gave a valiant fight, the broken beer bottles and the blood shed as a result.

I told you all that could happen, didn't I? I just happened to pass by while seeing some hungry raccoon trying to get themselves a bite before the police arrive. Somehow a hand was sticking out from under the rocks and it was still moving! The human body is truly a wonderous mystery. Just the amount of abuse and torment that it can withstand is enough to make a man smile.

It didn't last long, of course. Raccoon will make sure of that and you know what they say: the fresher, the better! But a good effort nonetheless.

I have also been informed that our transmission of today will last for as long as it needs to be. That's right, as far any of my dear beloved listener is out there left to listen, we will keep transmitting to your satisfaction and joy.

Don't try to turn off your radios. It won't work.

The only time we went out of schedule like this was when the kindergarten burned down after that teacher was killed by an ex boyfriend. Do you all remember that? So many people screaming all around made it difficult to speak, but it was a fun moment all the same. The one and only time that we used the portable equipment to be right on the scene and report you the last updates. Don't you miss it sometimes, dear listener, when things were a lot more simpler?

Oh, but no disaster of that nature is what is happening today. Of course not. Today is a normal and common day like any other. Don't pay attention to the sun, that must have gotten bigger since the last time I talked about it. Suns do funny things like that sometimes, everyone knows that!

Ah, but I am afraid that we won't be getting any guest or calls for today. I had Niffty ripping the phone line off after… certain someone tried to call in. I am sure they would say that they were just trying to solicit some song or something like that, but no matter, nobody can do that now! It's just Niffty and me here on the good old studio for the entire day, and Niffty has gone up to her attick again so it's only just me!

A one man show. As it was always supposed to be. And aren't we all lucky that man is me?

I just have some curiosity left, listener. Do you feel that anything is different at all? Did those teenagers that were looking to hang out in the cave? Did they felt like a peak on the electricity in the air, some kind of static that puts all the nerves on high alert for the potential danger that it can't even behind to fanthom? Or was it just the sound of one rock falling to the ground, after another, before everything else was on top of them?

The only thing I lament is not being able to ask them. Not even the owner of that solitary hand would have been able to say anything, not with a broken jaw like that. Not that I saw their mangled body or anything. I was, and I always am, nothing but a respectable model citizen so I just took a look and made my way straight here, to do what was asked of me.

You are welcome, by the way.

There is a window here, did I ever mentioned that? I can't imagine in what context that would have come out, but regardless, there is. It offers a lovely view of the main street that goes to the end of town, right before the hallway opens up to empty wastelands in direction to the next civilization. I can see everyone who comes out or comes in if I wanted to.

I usually keep the curtains extended over it because, let's face it, outside of the rare crash or manslaughter of those who didn't looked both ways before crossing the street, not a lot of interest to be had there. Been good at road safety has always been one of the few flaws of this town, sadly.

Up until now it has been rather peaceful. Not a lot of people who were planning to go out to the nearby town to maybe visit grandma on her birthday or were planing to go pick their stranged daughter at the airport. But I hope it will pick up at some point in the morning. The day is young and we have so much time to enjoy it to it's last second.

The sky getting slighty darker might give you a wrong impression of the time, though. But rest assured, your watches still works perfectly fine. The only issue is that I can't see the sun from here. This building cast a long shadow from this window.

Has it started to smile yet? If not, don't worry about it. There is nothing to concern yourself with. It's when the eyes open that it's truly interesting part begins.

Oops, I wasn't supposed to say that, ha ha! Spoiler! My bad. Please ignore it as you go about your normal and completely irrelevant day.

Let's instead just remember how wonderful and great our town is. We used to be a great tourist center, a convenient space between other cities for people to stop by on their way. One where people find joy watching our huge ball of yarn, that it was mostly filled with styrofoam and twig before yarn ever came into the equation.

We had that adorable bowling alley with the greasiest pizza anyone could eat with it's own karaoke on the side. The businesses were thriving. There was so much things to look at and play with back then. Our young weren't constantly leaving to look for bigger opportunities elsewhere, only to waste years of education in careers they are never going to take.

But things change, don't they? They get stagnant with enough time. They become boring. Predictable. And that might be the biggest tragedy of it all. What is life, I ask of you, dear listener, if not a constant symphony of screams all in perpetual crescendo until it's dying end? How else a man is supposed to know that they aren't truly dead yet without it?

There is just no end to this. This is all your life has been and all everything will ever meet you as. For some weaker minds this can be frightening, paralyzing even. They let themselves become part of the scenary, another potted plant on the corner that does what it supposed to do, because I guess that is easier than take control of their own lives.

For others, this might be just the push they need to finally learn a few new tricks. So you study and you work and exchange words with the right people, others who also refuse to just let the monotony kill them silently.

And what if you have to step on a few toes? It's not your fault that they didn't wise out before. And what if some of those toes fall out or get crushed like mashed potatoes under your feet? That at least is something new.

And the new starts are always so exciting, dear listener.

Your journey begins where it was supposed to end. That is an exhilitaring thought not many get to have.

If life won't give you lemons or oranges or apples or anything at all, then you carve into the ground with your own bare hands until you find something, covered in mud and your own blood from the nails that are ripping apart from your skin. You grip it as tight as you can despite the pain, despite the burning sensation that is chipping at the soul you didn't know you had, and won't let go until you make it your own.

You let it grab onto you and take what it needs to survive. You feed it, you protect it, you do whatever is necesary so none of you ever gets forgotten again. You form bonds you never expected to make before becuase it's either that or come back to how things were before, to the sad, dull, predictable nature that you had to escape from.

They promise you that you will always have an ally on your side even if this chapter ends. No matter in what new book are you thrown into or how much you change, that constant hand on your shoulder will never abandon you to remind you of where you come from and where you still have yet to go. It will follow you more loyally and closer than your own shadow ever could, even in total darkness.

The only thing that it ask in return is that you keep it well fed for as long as you exist. The bottom of it's stomach is neverending like outerspace itself and, let's be honest, you are never going to fill it. Which basically garantees that you will always have a new beginning to find more food. You will always a new playground to have fun with even if you already burned down the previous one. Completely consequences free. The only thing remaining being your own memories of it and you can fill it with as many screams as you want.

Doesn't that sound just ideal, dear listener? Who wouldn't shake hands with a promise such as that one?

Ah, but for now, I will leave you for a moment with the weather. I have to take a look outside, I can't resist the curiosity anymore.

See you soon."

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #welcome to night vale au

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misledmiseries · 1 year

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i might be a very much an extreme case of bleeding heart because when i played anatomy i actually cried so so much, humanizing houses that see and suffer and hunger, lonely and furious, make me want hug bricks and walls and corners and cry

“What happens to a house when it is left alone? It becomes worn and aged. And its paint peels and its foundations begin to sink. It goes for too long unlived in. What does it think of? What does it dream? How does it regard those creatures who built it? Who brought it into existence only to abandon it when its usefulness no longer satisfies them.”

“ It may grow angry. Its basement may fill with churning acid like an empty stomach. And its gorge may rise as it asks itself, through clenched teeth, "what did I do wrong?" It may grow bitter. It may grow hungry. So hungry and so bitter that its scruples dissolve and its doors unlock themselves.

i love when horror literature makes me emotional, and the writing in this game is insane deserve all the appreciation.

#no i'm not stable #if you're wondering #anthropomorphism is very fun #anatomy is a piece of art #A MASTERPEICE i tell you #anatomy game #kitty horrorshow

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apoemaday · 2 years

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A Divine Image

by William Blake

Cruelty has a Human Heart, And Jealousy a Human Face; Terror the Human Form Divine, And Secrecy the Human Dress.

The Human Dress is forged Iron, The Human Form a fiery Forge, The Human Face a Furnace seal’d, The Human Heart is hungry Gorge.

#poetry #william blake #a divine image

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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You tell Puppy!Eddie he can eat whatever/whenever from the kitchen like a normal human. He's cautious at first but decides to test it and absolutely gorges himself to the point of being sick and whinesss while you pat his tummy. He doesn't do it again. But sometimes you still find food hidden under his pillow or behind the washer. A habit he hasn't broken from growing up having to scavenge and steal in his last homes. Its heart breaking but you just keep reminding him he can eat when he wants.

join the hybrid hangout! ♡ / hybrid au faq

ohhh i think you're right :(( when he binges the very first time it's not even because he thinks it'll all get taken away or anything it's just because everything looks so good!! and he's theorizing that he hasn't had a good amount of food in a while so he's probably super hungry and can stomach a lot, right? no.

he doesn't quite realize that he has to start slow </33 so he ends up on the couch with a trash can next to his head that's laying in your lap as he grumbles and groans and whines about how much his stomach hurts :(( you tell him that you're not mad at him for eating what he did nor will you stop him if he tries to again but you will remind him that he shouldn't for his own personal comfort. you don't want to stop him in case he has a bad reaction to it, because you don't want him to think you're doing it to stop him from eating altogether, but you don't want him to be in so much pain again :') he definitely listens to you!! But yeah, you find snacks hidden in odd places :( it doesn’t bother you that he eats in his room, it bothers you that he thinks he has to eat in his room!! So you never confiscate them nor do you call him out on it but you do stock up extra heavy on his favorite snacks the next time you go grocery shopping and you watch his sweet puppy eyes shine when he sees your haul :(

#dog hybrid!eddie #puppy!eddie #let’s talk about puppy!eddie !!#Eddie munson x reader #ddejavvu's hybrid hangout

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voraciousvore · 6 months

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Bucky's (17/44)

***Contains soft, safe vore***

Chapter 17: Drinks at the Bar

Ronny was beginning to despair of ever finding a woman to love. His options were rapidly drying up as he swiped through the dating app on his phone, taking rejection after rejection, getting blocked, finding he was not compatible with most of the Giantesses on there. He was frustrated. He could only conclude that most of the women were stuck-up hoes not worth his time. It probably didn’t help matters that he was so picky with his selections.

One particularly lonely night, he was feeling hungry and restless. He didn’t want to stay holed up in his apartment, alone, gorging himself on frozen TV dinners. He wanted some comfort food, to fill both his heart and his belly. He didn’t have a date to go out with, so he decided to eat out at his new favorite restaurant, Bucky’s, by himself. It was drizzling outside, so he grabbed a raincoat before heading out into the stormy weather.

He trudged through the gray streets, hood up to keep his head dry, the rain tricking down his huge back. The sun, hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, was setting, making the gray sky grow darker. The downtown area was less busy than usual on account of the weather, but still brightly colored with neon lights that reflected off the shiny puddles on the pavement. Passersby were huddled under umbrellas or bundled up in colorless waterproof coats just like Ronny. The world looked as gloomy as Ronny felt inside.

Before long, the bright blinking red of Bucky’s neon sign came into view, mirrored in the road below. Ronny entered and shed his wet coat. The seating hostess flashed him a friendly smile, in spite of his serious demeanor. “Table or bar?”

“Bar,” Ronny growled. He would feel weird sitting at a table by himself. She led him over to the bar section where he sat down and ordered a beer. “Just keep ‘em coming,” he instructed the bartender.

Bucky’s was slow, on account of the rain, so Ronny was able to sip on his drinks in peace. After downing a few beers, he felt a pleasant buzz inside his skull and decided to placate his whining stomach and order some food. After perusing the menu, he requested a burger and a hearty plate of cheese fries, with a human entrée to accompany the fries.

“Hey, there’s a specific human I want in my dish. Her name’s Patty, if she’s available.” The Giant taking his order wrote down the name with a nod and walked away. For some reason, Ronny felt a touch of warm blush creep into his cheeks, and an excited electricity in his gut. He didn’t entirely understand these feelings. Perhaps it was just anticipation to feed his hunger with her exquisite taste. He licked his lips and swallowed the pool of drool forming in his mouth. Definitely hunger. Nothing more than that.

In the human tank, Patty was dismayed to find a giant hand grabbing her up to take her to the kitchen. She was handed off to Chef Gore, who stuffed a pill in her face, slapped her into a mound of fries with melted cheese, and loaded the plate up with toppings. Patty wasn’t restricted at all, but she knew running would be futile. She didn’t want to lose any more toes. She schemed every day to escape, but she was out of ideas for now. She needed to find some way to get the tracker off her wrist. The only way she could think of was cutting her hand off, hardly a desirable option. Bucky did not allow the humans any weapons, like saws or knives, so Patty’s morbid idea would likely not come to fruition. Besides, she doubted she’d be in any condition to run pouring out blood with a severed hand.

Patty sat listlessly in the mountain of fries, cheese, sour cream, bacon bits, and chives as a waitress stopped to pick up the massive plate. The human groaned inwardly when she saw she was heading for the bar. Her last experience at the bar involved being thrown up in a trash can by a drunk Giant, and she wasn’t eager to relive that incident. Her attitude changed, however, when she recognized the handsome Giant Ronny waiting for her. He was one of the few Giants she had met, other than Leon, who had actually been nice to her and treated her like a sentient person, even if he did still eat her in the end.

Ronny’s pulse quickened when he spotted the familiar face of the human in his meal. The waitress set the plate down in front of him and hustled off. Ronny fixated his gaze on the tiny woman buried in fries and cheese. She looked... cute. Adorable, even. And very tasty. He swallowed nervously, feeling a sudden onslaught of social awkwardness. He glanced up briefly to make sure the bartender wasn’t nearby before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“Um... hi,” he said. He leaned forward, casting a shadow over the plate, but Patty didn’t flinch this time at the Giant man towering over her. She met his gaze, and while it was hard to tell because she was so small, he almost believed he saw her face turn pink.

“H-h-hi,” she stammered quietly. Ronny stared at her, not sure what else to talk about. What was he supposed to say, to a human who was sold to him in a plate of food to be eaten? What could a Giant like him possibly have in common with her? She seemed to be struggling with the same affliction, because she looked away and started fiddling absently with a green chive next to her. She slipped it onto her arm like a bracelet and Ronny had to resist letting out a chuckle. Maybe it was just the beer influencing his judgement, but he thought she was precious, with how miniscule she was.

The waitress stopped by again to deliver Ronny the burger he ordered. He thanked her and started chomping down on it with great big bites, since he was hungry after all. He had yet to touch his fries, as if he were hesitant to disrupt the human in his food. Patty watched him curiously, and Ronny glanced back at her.

He swallowed his bite of food so his mouth wasn’t full. “Uh... if you’re hungry, you can have some of those fries,” he mumbled.

Patty raised her eyebrows with surprise. “Thanks,” she said timidly, barely above a whisper. She didn’t touch the fries, though, beyond sitting in them like she was before. She was too anxious to eat anything. She gulped and continued, “S-s-so... um... I see you don’t have a date tonight.”

Ronny scowled. “No. No I don’t.” He picked up his glass of beer and chugged a monumental gulp, polishing off the rest of the glass. Patty thought to herself that enough beer went down his huge throat to get all the humans in the tank drunk. Ronny slid his glass forward and tapped the table to get the attention of the bartender, so he could get another beer. “Fucking bitches,” he grumbled bitterly under his breath.

Patty was a bit frightened by his anger, but she supposed she could understand. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ronny,” she told him gently. He looked down at her and his expression softened.

“It is what it is,” he answered dismissively. He munched on a few fries and thought to himself it might be best to change the subject, so his temper wouldn’t flare up. “So, uh... how’s your day going?” The bartender slid him another beer, giving him an odd look as he noticed Ronny conversing with his dinner plate. Ronny glowered at him and the bartender shrugged and walked away.

Patty sighed. She wasn’t sure if it would be such a good idea to talk to a Giant about her troubles, but for some reason she felt comfortable confiding with Ronny. She didn’t really have anyone else to talk to, besides the other humans, who were sympathetic but also oftentimes quite melancholic and indifferent. “Not so great, to be honest. I’ve been eaten twice already today.” She let out another labored sigh, looking up at Ronny’s towering beer glass. “I could really use a beer right now.”

Ronny raised an eyebrow and gave her a mischievous, almost sadistic grin. Before Patty could interpret the meaning of his look, he pinched her between his fingers and lifted her out of the fries. She let out a startled yelp. With a single swift movement, he plunked her into his beer.

“Hey!” Patty cried. “That was mean!” Ronny guffawed and smirked at her. He lifted up the glass and swirled it around in his gigantic hand, stirring Patty in the beer.

“You did ask for a drink,” he remarked wryly. He brought the glass up to his lips and took a big swig.

“Yeah, but this isn’t what I meant!” Patty protested, exasperated. She collided with his upper lip and pushed against its squishy surface with her hands, suddenly fearful of the strong suction drawing her toward his mouth. Ronny finished his draught and lowered the glass, smiling roguishly. He was teasing her.

“Please don’t drink me up,” Patty pleaded. “I’m just… so tired of all this…” She tried not to cry with frustration. “Being eaten over and over again… it’s so awful and exhausting…”

Ronny was having too much fun to take her seriously. He ignored her, slipping back into his old ways, and raised the glass for another drink. This time, he tossed his head back and opened his mouth wide, wide enough to imbibe the miniature woman. She flowed into his mouth and he trapped her inside, gulping down his beer. He nearly swallowed her, but a hard, frantic kick to the roof of his mouth gave him pause. He realized she really, truly, absolutely did not want to be eaten. She was deathly serious, and he could sense her fearful desperation in that kick. He abruptly felt guilty as he recognized what a monster he must seem to her, devouring her even as she pleaded with him to stop. In that moment, he saw himself for the bully he was, saw himself through the eyes of the poor girl in his mouth and his human coworker that he had tormented so cruelly in the recent past. He drained the rest of his beer into his throat and gently released the woman, little more than a wet ball, into his hand. She was quivering with fear.

“Sorry,” he expressed lamely. “But I just don’t understand.”

“W-what?” Patty questioned, disoriented. She was expecting to be swallowed, but instead she found herself in Ronny’s soft, expansive palm. She brushed strands of hair, dripping with beer and spit, out of her face and gazed up at the Giant’s mountainous visage above her. His dark eyes focused on her, puzzled.

“You’re used to being eaten, aren’t you? I mean, it’s your job after all. It’s what you’re paid to do?” he inquired. “If you really hate your job that much, why don’t you just quit?”

Patty was so dumbfounded she stood up in his palm, gaping up at him. “You… you’re joking, right? You think I’m here by choice?!” Her voice jumped to a higher pitch. “Are you dense?!”

Ronny’s brow furrowed and his countenance twitched with irritation. Patty clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, realizing what she had done. She had just insulted and angered him. Here she was, standing helplessly in the palm of his massive hand, where he could easily close his fingers and crush her in a temperamental fit of rage. Luckily, his wrath seemed to pass over, like the shadow of a cloud on a windy day, and instead he cupped his hands protectively around her. His face was overtaken with concern as he drew in close to her, studying her intensely. His enormous, handsome face filled her vision. At this range, she could distinguish the black holes of his pupils from the dark irises encircling them.

“You’re… a prisoner here?” he asked, his voice soft. He was genuinely surprised, not expecting this development. He had assumed that the humans were workers at Bucky’s, just like the humans at Big Corp Inc.

“Yes,” Patty confirmed sadly. “All the humans here are. You really didn’t think we’d voluntarily file to our deaths if a customer chose us for fatal ingestion, did you?”

“I-I suppose not,” Ronny admitted. He hadn’t even considered fatal ingestion. He felt terrible, trying to envision what life must be like for Patty. He felt even worse when he recalled he had tormented her, like the brute he was, and she had no choice in the manner but to take it. “Why haven’t you tried to escape?”

Patty’s eyes blazed with frustration. “I HAVE tried.” She pointed to her foot with the missing toes. “Bucky caught me and punished me.” Ronny’s dark eyes moved down to her feet, examining the damage done to her. His face contorted, this time with righteous anger. Bucky was even more of a barbarian than he was. He remembered the last time he had patronized the restaurant, and how Patty had been all bandaged and bruised up. So, that had been the owner’s doing. Without thinking, Ronny curled his fingers around Patty’s back, as if to shield her from danger, and stroked her gently. Even though Patty was still fired up, the comforting gesture was not lost on her, and she subconsciously leaned into his tender touch.

“All of us humans are outfitted with trackers,” she explained, holding up her wrist to show Ronny. “It has an alarm on it, so if I leave the restaurant, everyone in the vicinity is alerted. I can’t take it off myself.”

Ronny contemplated the diminutive object on her wrist. “Let me see that,” he muttered. He clasped the tracker between his fingers with some difficulty, since it was so tiny on Patty’s thin wrist, and effortlessly popped it open with his Giant strength.

To the shock of both Patty and Ronny, the alarm on the tracker blared loudly and flashed with lights. The bartender rushed over, along with other restaurant employees, and the pair found themselves surrounded, all eyes on them. Bucky hustled over, breathing heavily, and shouldered his way through to confront Ronny.

“What are you doing?” he bellowed sharply. He snatched Patty out of Ronny’s startled hands, making her scream. Deftly, he snapped the tracker back on her wrist and silenced the device with the handheld remote he kept in his pocket.

“S-sorry! It was an accident!” Ronny shouted back, flustered. To bolster the lie, he hastily added, “I got carried away playing with my food.” Bucky narrowed his eyes with skepticism, but he dropped the frightened human back into Ronny’s open palms.

“Quit stalling and eat your food then,” he demanded, crossing his arms expectantly.

Ronny didn’t want to appear suspicious, so without asking Patty for permission he dunked her back into his beer. He didn’t want to think about the consequences for Patty if Bucky caught on to what he had been trying to do, especially after seeing how she had been mutilated. He gave her a subtle apologetic look before chugging his drink, swallowing Patty in a single gulp. He had to admit, even when he was under pressure and didn’t get the chance to appreciate her flavor, she still felt amazing running down his throat into his belly. He slammed the glass onto the bar counter with a satisfied sigh and smirked defiantly at Bucky.

“Delicious,” Ronny commented, smacking his lips for added effect. Bucky, pacified by the display, left Ronny alone, and the other employees went back to work as well. Ronny sat back into his chair slowly, consumed by guilt—not merely for eating Patty against her will, but for the intense pleasure he experienced having her inside his stomach. He rubbed his belly tenderly as he felt her shift around inside. His heartbeat slowed as he calmed down from the stressful incident.

“Sorry, Patty,” he apologized softly, hoping she could hear him from inside his body. To his surprise, he felt her stroke the lining of his gut from within. She had heard and forgiven him. He exhaled in relief and perceived a sort of comforting, tingling warmth through his body. As disgusted as he was with himself, he didn’t want to arouse concerns among the restaurant staff, so he took his time and finished eating his meal.

Bucky was still suspicious of the black-haired man at the bar, and kept darting furtive glances his way the whole time he was there. Later, he pulled the bartender aside and questioned him about the odd Giant’s behavior.

“That dude was strange,” the bartender expressed. “He was talking to his human entrée the whole time, treating her like a person. He even spat her out when she begged him not to ingest her. I think he’s a human sympathizer.”

“Did you catch his name?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. She called him Ronny, like she knew him already.”

Bucky made a mental note of the mysterious Giant’s name and likeness, carving it into his memory. He had a feeling he’d be seeing that Giant again, and not under positive circumstances. He needed to find out who he was, whom he worked for, and where he lived, in case he caused any trouble. Bucky felt a strong need to protect his investments, at all costs. He would not tolerate any theft of his property.

Chapter 1

Chapter 18

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desudog · 4 months

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i think something staggeringly large and restless many people forget when they talk of the "baby queer" days of, often, youth, is that so often there's a billowing pressure in you. overcoming all fear and throwing yourself into a spot of sun in desperation for warmth does not happen with ease. It hits like a fatal discus. and what is left when the bottle breaks is manic desperation. you can feel like a madman, a person only known to a handful of trusted colleagues or everyone who knows you at all, regardless, like a toddler all you want to do is say the word youve just learned. the absence of self creates a desperation to gorge yourself on this lost selfhood, to hold it close like a returned child. i struggle sometimes with worrying in that private- do i come off as overbearing? living in starvation of self, living in guilt, hate and absence of being, with those who love me, do i seem too hungry? all i want to do is exist because i cannot anywhere else. theres no words to be said anymore, theres almost hope you could just scream equally euphoria and leviathan distress. for 2 minutes of my day i am here. how do i make up 20 years in the span of an hour? am i saying too much? am i overexplaining? am i defensive? am i overwhelming? im sorry that placing the weight of my heart for us to gawk at became burdenous. its not enough for you to see me. i need to be torn apart atom by atom, be the end of the human race and reform into something so horrendous nobody will ever ask me to explain myself again. am i coming on too strong? is it strong enough for you to feel me? is just a shard of what it takes for me to begin to feel comfortable far too much for you ti be uncomfortable? ill take scraps, im not picky, just bottomless

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regicidal-optimism · 16 days

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the art of assembling and exercising power || on quackity and ladders to the top

made for @marrow-and-bone for the @mcytrecursive exchange

#quackity #c!quackity #dsmp #grace dot art #the human heart is hungry gorge #imaginary gardens with real toads

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bracketsoffear · 1 year

Note

propaganda for a character i didnt submit because i forgor, the house from 'anatomy.'

gonna ramble quite a bit on this one beca its my favorite horror game of all time!

in anatomy, you start in a house that is not yours. your objective is to collect tapes and listen to them. the tapes are focused on comparing the anatomy of the human body to the parts of a house, your first clue that something is off about the house you've found yourself in. the final tape finds you in the bedroom, where, after you put it in the tape recorder, the door to the room disappears, and you become surrounded by images of teeth and mouths, while the narrator begins to compare the bedroom to a mouth, where each night we sleep, unaware, hoping it does not bite down.

the game then closes, and in order to get the full story, you have to open it again. this time around, the tapes are near incomprehensible from audio distortion, and the house is beginning to physically deteriorate, unable to keep itself together. eventually, you find a tape thats very clearly from the perspective of the house, talking about how it is growing teeth like "cysts, or bone spurs." the house tells a story of a drunk man walking in and defiling it, so it slams the basement door and kills him, and eventually consumes him.

the next time you open the game, the entire house is lit by a bright red light, and the house has begun to sprout fleshy tendrils that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. all of the tapes are completely inaudible. that is, until you get to the basement, where the house says this to you;

"There is an important distinction that must be drawn between the words dissection and vivisection, a distinction that would appear to be lost on you. Your purpose was to listen and yet at every turn you have pried, you have prodded and you have interfered. Have you not been paying attention? Did it not occur to you that as an organism existing within a greater organism, your intrusion would be felt? And still you harass. And now, like the wayward spider who witlessly settled on a sleeper's tongue, you will be swallowed. Because the truth is this. When a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth."

the room begins to sprout teeth, and you are consumed by the house. there are many endings after this. one where you wander a flesh textured maze. one where you are aimlessly wandering around a huge lake. one where you wander around a city until you find a street with a house at the very end, and are unable to walk anywhere but the house.

the one that serves my purposes most, however, is the one where you are surrounded by just. flesh. a maze of flesh that pulsates around you as you are slowly consumed.

when you open the game for the final time, the screen shows nothing but a toppled over tape recorder. it plays this, which is and always will be my favorite monologue ever;

"What happens to a house when it is left alone?

When it becomes worn and aged, and its paint peels, and its foundations begin to sink. It goes for too long unlived in. What does it think of? What does it dream?

How does it regard those creatures who built it? Who brought it into existence only to abandon it when its usefulness no longer satisfies them.

It may grow lonesome. It may stare for long hours into the darkness of its own empty halls and see shadows. And its heart may jump as it thinks "here, here is someone again, I am not alone."

Each time it is wrong. And the hurt starts over.

It may haunt itself, inventing ghosts to walk its floors, making friends with its shadow puppets, laughing and whispering to itself at the end of some quiet cul-de-sac.

It may grow angry. Its basement may fill with churning acid like an empty stomach. And its gorge may rise as it asks itself, through clenched teeth, "what did I do wrong?"

It may grow bitter. It may grow hungry. So hungry and so bitter that its scruples dissolve and its doors unlock themselves.

While a house may hunger, it cannot starve. And so in fever and anger and loneliness, it may simply lie in wait. Doors open. Shades drawn. Hallways empty. Hungry."

overall, incredible game. the way it is written always makes me think of the flesh, as all of its descriptions are purposefully visceral in nature, meant to perturb and disgust the listener.

anatomy house is kind of like a babygirl to me. thank u for watching like ands subscribe

#asks #not!character propaganda #flesh poll

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thewritingowl · 6 months

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Hey!!! First, thanks for the tag --- second: I am morally obligated to ask about the 'Danny Cannibalising Himself' wip because holy hell that's speaking to me I neeeeeeed to know 🙏🙇‍♂️

Ah, of course, thank you for the ask!!! I figured that one would catch somebody's attention, lmao.

(For those reading, this ask is about this post. :) )

So I have a history of self-injury (I'm currently 9 months and 2 1/2 weeks clean), and I've found that writing gore really helps with my urges. This fic was born out of a really intense moment of intrusive thoughts and self-injury urges and just ended up becoming a plot hook that I actually find really interesting. I haven't worked much on this WIP in the past few months, but looking back at it, I definitely want to get more into it. This kind of gorey moment led to me wondering what it would be like if the League of Assassins found an immortal Danny (who is closer to a Death God than regular person at this point) and tried to clone an army of him. However, they keep coming up with imperfect clones because they test the clones by having them fight Danny and he just keeps killing them. Just a very traumatized boy who eventually gets found and taught how to be (somewhat) human again. :) Here's a snippet under the keep reading bar! Please be warned there is some cannibalism, depersonalization, self-injury (kind of, it's a clone), and general gore.

Danny stopped wondering if he was the real Danny.

Or at least, he thought he had. Staring down his opponent, he found he wasn’t sure anymore. They panted in sync, wounds symmetrical as they circled each other. Maybe he was fighting a mirror? But then they pounced at each other and Danny felt the scraping of claws as he snarled at himself. Pain raced up his back, but he was quick. Had to be quick.

Killing himself shouldn’t have become so easy.

Danny snapped his own neck, watched as the body fell to the ground and bright green ectoplasm trailed from its lips. Danny reached up to his own lips, pulling back to see the bright red staining them. Okay. He was real. He thought.

Still, his audience was waiting, and Danny knew if he didn’t take advantage of this then he’d have to wait another week. His stomach growled, and Danny sunk to his knees. The body felt warm. Most bodies felt warm when they first died, Danny thought. Their hearts still pumping blood, though the clones could never quite replicate blood like his. They either ended up too human or too ectoplasmic. Never striking the right balance.

It helped, he thought. Or at least he liked to think.

He tore straight into the clone’s thigh, skin digging under his nails. He carved the meat out with far too much ease, holding the sickly green soaked chunk, red flaking the sinews as Danny shoved it in his mouth. Raw meat exploded across his tongue, and he kept digging. Ripping his own corpse apart as he gorged on his own meat. He wanted to be mindful about it, but he couldn’t. Not when the whispers grew louder, and his time was running out. He broke his own ribs off, sucking out the marrow and sipping at the blood that ran through his bones.

Ectoplasm always quenched his thirst better than blood could.

He sank his teeth into his own heart, and it burst with a pop in his mouth. Ectoplasmic blood drenched his tongue, and Danny drank as deeply as he could. The whispers grew frenetic, but Danny was still so, so hungry. He reached back for the corpse as a rope caught his neck. He snagged his own arm, tearing it off. He held it close as he was drug back to his cell. Surely the whispers wouldn’t let him keep a precious gift like this. Thrown onto the moldy straw bedding, Danny resumed his consumption. He wondered if he should hate himself as he bit into his own arm, tore its flesh off the bone.

By the time the whispers returned, not even the bones were left.

#cannibalism #Starting off the tags strong #self-injury #self harm #dpxdc #Owl Writes #dpxdc fanfic #Just a snippet though #gore #cw: gore #Danny is having a Rough Time #Thank you so much for the ask! I hope I didn't write too long of a response lmao #Honestly get me started on any of my fics and I *will* talk your ear off #I have so many thoughts and ideas #Thank you again for the ask! It was a really nice surprise to wake up to. :)

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prosedumonde · 2 years

Quote

Cruauté porte un coeur humain, Et Jalousie un visage humain, Terreur a la divine forme humaine, Hypocrisie le vêtement humain. Le vêtement humain est de fer forgé ; La forme humaine une forge de feu, Le visage humain une fournaise close, Le coeur humain est sa gorge affamée.

William Blake, Chants d’Innocence et d’Expérience, • Image divine

English : Cruelty has a Human Heart

And Jealousy a Human Face

Terror the Human Form Divine

And Secrecy, the Human Dress

The Human Dress, is forged Iron

The Human Form, a fiery Forge.

The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd

The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.

#William Blake #Chants d'Innocence et d'Expérience #livre #livres #book #books #citation #citations #citation française #citation en français #littérature #littérature anglaise #literature #poésie #poetry #english quote #quote #quotes

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mikebraudrick · 9 months

Text

"Cruelty has a Human Heart

And Jealousy a Human Face

Terror the Human Form Divine

And Secrecy, the Human Dress

The Human Dress, is forged Iron

The Human Form, a fiery Forge.

The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd

The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge."

- William Blake

#william blake #poetry

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bazwillendinflames · 2 years

Text

Something My Soul Needs (1/6)

AO3

Next chapter

This fic is a WWDITS collbaeration with FanFictionette and updated every Friday.

So, choosing the right victim had never been just about taste. The realization struck her with the force of a freight train. Suddenly it all made sense, her seemingly random stomach upsets - they were rare, but they had always come after draining some depressed human. How could she have been so stupid as to miss such an obvious connection?

Sad victims don't sit well with Nadja.

Five times that she suffers the consequences of draining a miserable human, and one time someone else does.

Nadja had never been a stranger to hunger. Even before that strange creature - the one whose bite had filled her veins with fire and left her skin pale and her heart sitting silent in her chest - she had spent countless nights shivering under threadbare blankets and trying to ignore the persistent growling of her stomach.

This new hunger was different, though; a ravenous appetite for human blood that had come with the sharp fangs needed to tear flesh apart. Nadja had, of course, resisted for as long as she could. She had tried eating what little food her family could spare but it was no use - she could never keep any of it down.

Nadja remembered the first time that she had finally given in. She couldn’t bear the pain of starvation any longer, and her neighbor was a lonely old man whose wife had died and whose children had long since sailed from the island. Nadja had crept in through an open window in the dead of night and found him sleeping. First, there was the feeling of her teeth sinking into the flesh of his neck, then the hot rush of blood filling her mouth and dripping down her chin as she drank greedily, the sound of the old man choking as he thrashed under her grip, and finally, silence.

She wrapped shaking arms around herself and sank weeping to the stone floor of her neighbor’s home, horrified at what she had done. Nadja was covered in blood, and the grisly meal sat uneasily in her gut as shame and relief swept over her in equal measure.

But it wasn’t enough.

She needed more.

Nadja’s small, desolate village had no shortage of easy marks - widows, beggars, and orphans with no one to miss them - but no matter how many victims she gorged herself on, Nadja always started to feel sick long before she could feel satisfied. The ache afterwards was almost worse than the hunger, waves of pain that kept her from any meaningful rest.

But what right did she have to complain?

How could she have expected anything from this dark new existence?

She’d been made a monster, and taking a life should not be painless for her, even if it was a sacrifice she saw no alternative to making. Perhaps it was a sign that she should feel guiltier, but all feelings were overridden by that persistent, gnawing hunger. She found that most nights after feeding she was left lying with her cold skin pressed against the even colder floors of her victims homes, alone and in pain and still hungry.

Nadja quickly learned to ration out her victims, see how long she could go between feeds. Just like it had always been, food was not a luxury she could afford each day. It didn’t take long for her thoughts to turn dark. She watched her family by night - the warm Greek sun now burned her once-tan skin - and found herself horrified when she wondered, absently, what it might be like to sink her teeth into her sister’s throat. The only thing that truly held her back was the fear it would be just as sour as the rest of her victims.

But even with careful rationing, there was only so long Nadja could go on hunting in her tiny hometown before hunger made her careless. Rumors spread, and the easy hospitality of locals that had been a reliable source of food was quickly cut off. She had taken to stalking her prey on the furthest outskirts of the village, but the fear building up on the island left the few victims she had found even more bitter and sickening than before.

Forced out into the open in a village already missing a quarter of its residents, it was only a matter of time before Nadja was discovered. She had fled the growing mob, ignoring the pang of sadness that struck when she noticed her sister and her husband leading it. She was weak from hunger, but her new inhuman strength and speed were still more than enough to outrun them.

On the island’s only port, Nadja was able to charm her way onto a merchant vessel bound for the mainland. The men there were muscular, tanned, and boisterous. They joked with each other and sang sea shanties as they went about their work. Nadja was shocked when several of them offered to forgo their evening meal so that she might have something to eat - not at all worried about going hungry. Growing up, Nadja had been taught to eat whatever and whenever she could, never knowing where her next meal was coming from, and such kindness was utterly foreign to her.

The sailors were more than happy to help her - after all, she was a young woman, small, vulnerable, and seemingly in need of protection. They paid dearly for their mistake later, when Nadja lured one of the sailors over to the edge of the ship with a coy smile before draining him dry. She kicked his body into the sea, watching as the tiny blur of her old home vanished in the distance.

Nadja’s journey to the mainland was long, but this was not without its advantages. The ship made port frequently to trade, which meant that the crew was always changing. With different sailors joining and leaving the crew every few days, it was very easy for men to… go missing. None of the sailors ever connected the dots, and for the first time in her life, Nadja understood what it was like to be well-fed.

For the first time since her unholy transformation, she felt satisfied.

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #nadja of antipaxos #wwdits nadja #wwdits fic

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