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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

Note

after some sort of “accident” in the shop, there comes to be a fleshlight that is bound to admin. everything that happens to it, admin can feel! <3 admin attempts to hide it but has to go deal with some important business and leaves it in the break room. what’s going down?

[Oooh nice!! I changed the source of the fleshlight a bit though. Fem reader.]

TW: Sex toy sharing (unsanitary); Dubcon; Double penetration in one hole.

You have absolutely no idea what this is.

It felt like a joke in poor taste, at first.

This... Fleshlight -Because it can only be that- Appeared in the break floor. A deep violet case with golden swirls around the rim, featuring an uncannily realistic mold of none other than your pussy.

So many things went through your mind as you picked it up. Who could have done this? Certainly, to be here on display, only one of your staff team could have concocted such an insult.

Perhaps Santi. He did always have the strangest and lewdest gifts for everyone. He'd offered sex toys molded after notable figures before, this wouldn't be entirely uncharacteristic out of him. Did he simply forget it here or is he planning to give it to someone?

If not Santi, then maybe Nebul. He does operate the shop, and toys of all kinky kinds hold no secrets for him. He could easily make a custom one, right? But he's not the type of monster man to have such a careless lapse and forget his fleshlight on the kitchenette counter like this. This would have to be intentional of him.

It could also be Fank-e. Lord knows that robot will get his metallic little hands on any kind of genital attachment and weird toy he can find. Maybe the creep wants to use a model of your vulva as his own genitals. You wouldn't put such past him. It's a lot more likely the mechanical menace could have gotten distracted by something and left the toy out in the open.

Humming, morbid curiosity makes you gently touch the depraved imitation, fingertips dipping to scissor the thing open when you notice that it's clean.

Instant regret washes over you.

The moment you do such, it's as if phantom digits pierced into your covered cunt and physically spread you out. The thing is dropped back onto the counter and you bend to clutch your panty-covered privates as a sting of pain punishes you.

For a blank moment, you almost believe that Lord Krulu had been the one to finger you. Even if he usually likes to announce their presence before using your form. But it can't be! Your higher has been busy all day, you can feel how diminished his connection to you is right now. This is not his doing.

Paranoid, you glance behind you just to be sure that there really is no one somehow screwing with you. Predictably, you're alone.

Eyes narrowed, you pick the toy up again and reshape your approach, this time making a slow stroke up the left labia, feeling it in your right with a scary level of intensity. The quality of the material itself is strikingly life-like, not just cheap silicone. It's even... Warm? Dear Lord, it's probably the same temperature as you, as your insides. The thought has a gross kind of shiver racing up your spine. Daringly, you thumb over the imitation of your clitoris, met with direct feedback in your own body which perfectly corresponds to the tentative circular motions of your index over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You stop the moment your knees reflexively press forward.

This... Is magic. Which puts a new candidate on the table. The thought alone makes you scoff, could Patches truly be audacious enough to do this? No. Not at all. You don't doubt he'd take a toy molded in your vague resemblance to pathetically rut into- But actually connect said thing to your body? That's already a level of courage that can't be expected of the dullahan in question.

Unless... Ah, this can be the work of his trickster counterpart. That you find more believable.

A pulse in your pocket has you setting the plaything aside to check your phone, reading the text detailing your esteemed guest's arrival.

Maintaining ties to the Rings is imperative in this stage of Krulu's vision for the future. Hell and its denizens are apparently sources of great potential in your Lord-Master's eyes, and he's been very keen in keeping close ties to the fiendish rulership of said location. You're only too happy to help forge bonds with these demonlords, which means scraping around and trying to get to know them. Ironically, it falls upon you the responsibility to tempt them into seeking contact.

Your latest endeavor of this sort involves establishing an explorative partnership with one of the demonlords' sons. He's quite the character, and now that you know he has arrived at the front of The Clergy, you can't just leave royalty waiting.

Both hands busy with texting back a hasty reply, you panic as you try to guess where you could stuff this gross little thing away. Taking it with you is not an option, there's no pocket large enough to conceal the thing and its depraved outline.

Time is not on your side.

The meeting can't take that long, can it? What if you just... Left it in one of the cupboards above the kitchenette?

Yes, and then you'll come to retrieve it, interrogate the team to find which of these losers thought it was a bright idea to play with fire.

That'll do. Hopefully.

Opening a cupboard loaded with small plates and cups, you quickly stuff the fleshlight inside and make your way over to the elevator, fixing your hair and clothes to go greet someone of great importance.

Vinnel almost barges into the floor.

More of his coworkers had caught the ride up, talking amongst themselves idly, but the jester wasn't preoccupied with their small talk, he was ravenous.

The first item on his shift was a show he had been particularly looking forward to, an opportunity to test some bizarre new weaponry and a game whose rules he deliberated on for more than a week prior to the event itself. Needless to say, it was a display that took a lot of work, tears sweat and love poured into it- And fucking Hell did it pay off! He's ecstatic! And hungry. Starving.

Doing a good show always gets his stomach riled up.

Some flecks of blood still covering his suit, Vinnel is quick to dart to the kitchenette, ignoring anything and everything as he rummaged around for snacks that aren't there.

His temper spikes when the fridge is devoid of meals.

" Chef! " He barks, turning to the blue shroom monster in question, who is only now just setting his apron aside. Morell rises a brow. " You're slacking! "

The large monster scoffs into his scarf. " None o' you assholes got a fuckin' hint of shame, do ya?! " His locker door slams shut. " Ah ain't gonna cook for ya every single day! "

" But- What are we supposed to do then? Starve? " The waiter whines, making big twinkling magenta eyes at the other.

" Not fallin' for it. " Is Morell's flat response.

" Have you tried making your own food? " A bartender chimes in. " I know doing anything for yourself is challenging for you, but give it a try. "

" Rich coming from someone that can't cook for the life of him. "

The jester has entirely disconnected from the banter going on, a shred of hope driving him to keep searching fruitlessly. It's not as if he believes anything to be in the top shelves where cutlery is stored, but maybe one of them could be hiding some type of candy?

Slamming cabinets and cupboards open, the last thing he expects is for something to fall off them. So he nearly jumps in the air when a sizable object tumbles from the cupboard shelf right onto the carpeted ground.

The floor becomes silent, everyone stares blankly at the item in question for a pregnant pause.

Gloved orange digits pick the thing up, Vinnel bringing it closer to his mask. " Huh. "

He knows what it is exactly.

It looks very high-quality, and clean thankfully. Vinnel swears something about the model itself looks... Almost familiar. Hm. Nevertheless, laugher starts bubbling out his chest and he sways his head, juggling the thing.

" Ohohohoho!! " The next time the toy falls, Vinnel grips it viciously and points the thing right at-

" Morell! Such interesting kitchen utensils you have here... "

" Wha- That ain't mine! " The shroom retorts a little too fast.

" Suure. Then why was it in the cupboard, buddy? "

There's a glare, people around the chef are beginning to murmur amongst themselves.

" Like Hell ah know! For all I fuckin' know, ya could'a been tha one to put it there and fake tha whole thing- 'S yours! "

Vinnel titters, clapping as best as he can with his occupied hand. " Oh no, you think that lowly of little old me? " A feigned gesture of offense is met with no sympathy from the rest of the staff team, who do, in fact, think that lowly of the jester. " Unfortunately no, I don't usually perform tricks with fucktoys... Not the silicone ones anyway. "

" Well it ain't mine. " Morell insists. " Which one o' ya little sickos put a fuckin' pocket pussy in the kitchen? "

The suited performer, still vaguely examining the thing, finding it to be a little heavier than most of these toys tend to be given the materials involved in their manufacturing, swivels his head towards the next suspect.

" Sex pest! "

Santi, already very interested in the turn of events this day is taking, smiles as if just having been complimented. " Yes? "

" Why did you put your fucktoy here? " The performer looms over his demonic coworker, accusatory and demeaning. " So we could find it? So you could be gross about it, hm? "

The incubus hums, eyes on the toy rather than his frilled coworker. " Mm no, that's not my toy sweetheart. Though do let me have a closer look, maybe I can find a trace of our dirty little culprit... "

" Liar! " Vinnel spits.

Santi chuckles, making a move to grab the object yet thwarted when Vinnel angles it away.

" And why would I lie, love? If it was mine I'd tell you readily. I've brought toys to work before, haven't I? Never lied about it. "

And he's right, much to the jester's chagrin. The incubus could bring a cum-soaked dildo into this floor shamelessly, he wouldn't lie about a fleshlight.

Vinnel growls and floats back to point it directly at Nebul, but the shopkeeper beats him to the punch.

" I do not bring items from the shop into the break floor. Furthermore, I don't recognize that model. Does it have a brand? "

The jester checks, flipping the thing in all angles only to find neither words nor numbers printed anywhere. He glances to the crowd around him again, gears turning, machinating, until his attention falls on the dullahan, making Vinnel dart to him.

" You've been far too quiet this whole time, gourd brains... " He accuses, painted eyes narrowing.

Patches flusters, arms raised and leaning back. " What- What do you want me to say? I don't- "

That vegetable expression shifts suddenly, going from uncomfortable and anxious to complete focus. It's enough to make the jester tilt his head. " What? "

" That thing is brimming with magic. " He points out, leaning closer as if the gesture could reveal more by itself.

" ... Is it now? " Vinnel won't lie. It's a possibility. The fleshlight looks and feels anything but normal.

" You- You do know what that means, right? " Patches fumbles, squirming in mild discomfort. Those green cheeks acquire a tint that makes the jester's eyes roll in irritation behind his mask.

" Oh do fucking enlighten me, you masochistic kabocha. "

" Boys, boys- " Santi starts, tail wagging as he wedges himself between the two men. " We're missing the point. I've seen this before. That little thing is connected to some poor sap. And, if I'm not suddenly visually impaired, it looks extremely human to me. "

Another moment of silence stretches across the room

The jester's inked grin widens, and armed with a brand new realization, he starts feathering his digits along the edges of the pocket pussy's entrance, paying close attention to it. His mask nearly falls off when the thing physically seems to twitch. Uhuhu!

" No. " Belo begins, pointing a trembling finger at the demon. " You wouldn't dare suggest- "

" That our lovely Administrator has sent us a gift? " Santi challenges, tone sultry. " But of course, Belo! This is a reward for our hard work, and ohh, I just can't wait to make the most of it. "

Vinnel has now managed to slip one finger inside, completely tuned off to the conversation happening right next to him. Shock of all shocks, the thing hugs his digit as if it were real. And, as he experimentally removes the intrusion, a sheen of what can only be arousal wets his gloves. It really is you. He just fingered you. Hah!

" Filthy beast! You shall not touch that, this can't be right. " The angel's wings flex and twitch in growing agitation. As always, he seems very eager to try to choke the life out of Santi- And he would, if he didn't already know that the demon would immediately salaciously get off on it.

" But what if it is? What if she wants us all to take turns, experience her supple little cunt? " He taunts, surfing the room, gouging the reactions of his coworkers as most of them flush with sudden want at the idea. Yes, they like it as much as he does, Santi's just honest about it. " Would you reject her gift, Belo? "

The power in question is puffed like an angered parakeet, a myriad of emotions warring in those expressive, large eyes. " Control that foul tongue of yours lest I rip it off your worthless mouth and make your depraved clients very disappointed. "

" One day you'll revel in your own perversions. " He says it calmly, as if it were fact, grinning when the angel prepares another outburst.

" Guys. "

Vinnel is now two fingers deep into the magical fleshlight, a stupefied look on his face as he finds the toy -You- Welcoming him without resistance. You clench around him. Gods, he can't wait to stuff his cock in there, to fuck you, to rail you knowing that you can't do anything to stop him. At least not until you find him. Oh, he could make a game out of it!

" She's practically dripping. " The jester pulls both fingers out, spreading them to showcase a film of arousal between both digits.

" She's... Enjoying this. " Patches murmurs, breathy, fixated on the dirty gleam.

" Alright, if you're done being manchildren, I want to go first. " The slime suddenly pipes up, moving in on the stage performer.

" My ass you will! " Grimbly gets in the way, scoffing.

Vinnel finds a crowd of monsters suddenly gather around him, hands twitching for the item in his hands, eyes glinting like wolves corralling a chicken in its coop.

" Give me that, jester, it needs to be secured somewhere safely- "

" No no, give it to me, I'll make her feel so good! "

" Maybe if I have it, I- I can tell whose magic this is. "

" It was in mah cupboard, maybe she wants me ta be first! "

" Nuh uh!! " The jester suddenly shouts, floating higher in the air. " Finders keepers! Piss off! "

An ashy hand clamps around his ankle, jostling the bells there. " Were you not accusing us of being perverse? Let us take that dirty thing off your hands. " Nebul beckons.

As he's tugged down, Vinnel deforms his limbs inside his suit to twist away from the hands pawing at him. Growling, he pulls away, towards the window, towards the outside. If he can make it through the window, a significant portion of the staff team will be halted in their pursuit. He might get to hide with the toy and keep it all for himself.

Gallon, anticipating this, moves fast. Yellow tendrils coil over both the jester's legs and waist, trying to pull the extended arm back into the room even as Vinnel tries his damndest to keep it at out, his arm bending weirdly inside its red sleeve.

" Fuck off! All of you sad sacks of shit- This is MINE! " The slime gargles and screams, other hand clinging to the tall window's edge as tightly as possible. " I found it! "

" Stop strugglin' boy. We gonna talk this out. " The chef chuckles, successfully using brute strength to start pulling him inside.

The others help. He's fighting a losing battle and he knows it.

As soon as the performer feels a disturbance in the fabric of his suit's composition, he freezes. Primal, soul-shaking terror, grabs a hold of his body and he gasps, shrieking as he drops both hands to instantly claw, kick and try to mangle whoever's about to possibly rip his suit.

There's a chorus of pained cries and he's thrown to the ground, clinging to his form for dear life. Literally. Because if anything opened, he would potentially leak to the carpet and meet his end very quickly.

" Gah-! You useless clown! He dropped it! " The bat squeals, a high-pitched noise that grates on everyone's ears.

Vinnel startles. His possible panic attack and frantic body checking is halted by the sudden realization that yes, he did drop the fleshlight in his panic. That means...

The orange and purple menace stumbles to a stand shoving the group bent over the window aside to poke his head out and see for himself where the sex toy landed. After a few grunts and curses, the view is revealed.

On the grass of the garden outside the building, the toy landed sideways, rolling aimlessly over mutated flowers that lean away from the unidentified object. There's a beat of stillness.

Everyone knows it's only a matter of time until the thing is retrieved, possibly by a client, which means they'd have to waste time hunting for a random loser before getting to their prize. They exchange stares, aware that as soon as someone moves, the hunt is one, the game starts.

And yet, before even a step towards the elevator is taken, the scene below them changes.

A bench sat some distance away uncurls, black iron body turning into a grayed gangly mass with a wooden chest for a head, teeth poking out of it. Said monster seems to stretch himself before moving on all fours to inspect the thing.

Sybastian squats, picks up the fleshlight. Although his eyes are hidden in the great darkness of his objectum head, everyone can practically see the gears turning in his head.

The mimic glances up, perplexed yellow eyes staring dubiously at his coworkers.

" Syb. " Patches calls, reaching a hand out. " That is very special, leave it there. Do not touch it- "

Too late.

" No! No!! "

He found a toy, he's going to play with it. Sybastian starts hurriedly moving out of view.

" Motherfucker! I'll gut you! " Vinnel screeches, banging uselessly on the building's exterior.

" Blasted mimic... " Belo is the first to peel off the window. " What do we do now?! "

" Well... " Morell sighs, pulling his apron back on while everyone sulks and simmers.

" We go huntin'. "

Huh.

Isn't that one way to wake up...

Sybastian's nap had been disturbed when he sensed an impact nearby. It couldn't have been something very large, but part of his hunting routine involves being in that fine line between resting and alert enough to sense the faintest vibrations, categorize them as noteworthy or not on a subconscious level. His curiosity had him rising anyway, shedding his disguise and following the direction of the sound until he found...

A sex toy.

In the middle of the grass.

His eyes don't deceive him, he knows what kind of toy this is, has seen them in the undead's shop. They're the kind you can fuck into, small and convenient.

He was unsure as to why such a thing had been tossed out, so he looked around and found most of his coworkers already fixed on him. It didn't take a genius to piece together the fact that they had been likely squabbling over the thing.

Yet, oddly, it didn't smell used. In fact, it featured an odor Sybastian could swear he's had his face buried in before.

The mischief of his nature acted up, and the mimic crawled away with the toy held in his maw.

He knows the rest of them will come looking for him immediately, so the mimic scurries deep into the less stable parts of the garden- Where Hellion tends to dwell. The parts that can shift, remold and relocate themselves in the blink of an eye as the establishment periodically "refreshes" itself. It's a gamble, he admits, but it's the only place staff will hesitate to enter due to its volatile nature. Sybastian is more well-equipped to deal with these areas, given he spends most of the time in the garden, has learned many of its tricks.

Let them bump around like blind moles.

Eventually, Sybastian finds an area dense in plantlife, a good distance away from the main building already, and sensing no approaching threats, the mimic seats himself next to a wide trunk, spitting his conquest into his hands and taking the time to examine it.

It's a fancy fuck-pocket alright.

Curious about the scent, he drags the thin end of his tongue across the length of the artificial pussy, eyes widening when taste hits him. Not just any taste, arousal and wetness and- Human. A human he's put that same roving muscle upon before.

You.

Sybastian is certain these things aren't meant to have such specific tastes. He's not sure how such a thing came into being, a carbon sort of copy of your cunt, but he understands why the others were fighting over it. Syb would too.

A little thrill crawls along the length of his spine.

No time to waste, he better make use of this before he's accosted by a swarm of angry monsters.

The mimic drools and smiles as he pushes a good portion of his deep blue tongue past sweet folds and into the surprisingly warm, hugging insides of the toy. He removes his loincloth hastily and palms his already chubbing cock to the thought of you flipping your work outfit up and spreading yourself out so he can have full access to that puffy pussy. The mental image of your provocative, inviting smile while you grab onto the fat of your ass has him moaning, dick pulsing.

Fucking the pathetic little escapists is one thing, but nothing beats your delicious, perfect holes. You have everyone here by the balls and Sybastian is no different.

Releasing a filthy murr of anticipation, the mimic's shackles rattle as he brings the now thoroughly slobbered pocket pussy down, teasing it along the head of his cock.

Oh, if all of them feel this real then he really has to bother Nebul for one.

Sybastian swears he feels it quiver against his length, panting as soon as he starts sinking it onto his thick length. The moment his tip pops in, he rumbles, feeling its walls immediately clinging to him, spasming in such a life-like manner he can't help bucking into it, greedily and impatiently stuffing more of himself into the exceptionally pleasurable fucktoy.

He couldn't take it slow even if he wanted to, claws curling viciously around the purple tube as he starts jerking himself off with it in earnest, loud groans echoing amidst his panting. It feels exactly like you! Hot and tight and spongy and so so good, he loves to fuck you- This is going to be his favorite toy ever.

Syb's hips snap into a grossly desperate rhythm, a lurid plap of skin on wet artificial skin as his balls hit it with every senseless rut upwards. His maw closes slightly, the mimic's eyes glaze and he pictures you there. On his lap, back turned to him, juicy ass on full display while you put both palms on his gangly knees and ride the monster for all he's worth, milking his cock and drooling like you've never had better.

Gods, if Sybastian focuses enough, he can almost feel the softness of your rump on him with each thrust. He wishes he could grab onto your waist, onto the cushion there, and use you the same way he's using this copy to breed into.

You're the hottest, prettiest little human he'll ever have the opportunity to stuff himself into.

There isn't a single intelligent thought in Sybastian's head when he starts grinding the pocket-pussy down, the tensing of his legs and abdomen bringing him ever closer to that sweet release, and he's looking forward to flooding the fucktoy full of his cum, feeling it clench heavenly around him the same it has been for a while now.

With one last, obscenely loud slap of his meat into the fleshlight, Sybastian howls and throbs hard, coming undone with great intensity and melting onto the grassy ground, the feeling of his own hot jizz spurting out the toy and leaking past his balls to coat this thighs a depraved sign of his victory.

He lies there, boneless from his own orgasm, hand still clumsily dragging your toy up and down his now spent cock, and all is well for a blissful moment.

...

Until-

" Bravo. Mm, good show... "

Sybastian peers up, not as sharp as he would be now that he's disoriented from cumming. A pair of glowing green eyes poise on him, and none other than the incubus makes it past the foliage of this part of the garden.

He's vaguely surprised the other was brave enough to come here.

" What? " Santi places a hand to his hip. " Thought I wouldn't find you? I could smell you getting off like a rabid animal, you need more than greenery to hide from me. "

Fair. Syb was being loud too. He doesn't let go of the toy however, suspiciously allowing the demon to lewdly scheme the dirty mess between his legs.

" Hand me the fleshlight, love. "

There's a growl. Santi frowns.

" Oh come now, you greedy slut, I'll make sure you get something out of it too. " He lulls, drawing closer slowly, to the point where he stands in front of the mimic, before crouching.

Sybastian keeps growling faintly, pulling out of the fleshlight to hold it away from the high-ranker, a gross pool of cum still oozing off the recently used thing. He doesn't miss the way the incubus' nostrils flare.

" Why, I'll even tell you a little secret, hm? "

Santi crawls between the mimic's legs, collecting a bead of the monster's cum and putting it to his mouth, luridly sucking the fluid off his finger before spitting onto his palm and using it to stroke Sybastian.

What begins as overstimulated shocks that force his legs to twitch and squirm away is forcibly turned into a brand new wave of arousal and need. He doesn't fight it, letting himself get stimulated anew and only offering a little bit of resistance when Santi pulls the fucktoy out of his grasp.

If he's here... Where are the others?

" What if I told you this little thing here- " Santi starts, selfishly and deliberately fingering globs of cum out of the toy for his own amusement. Syb notes the rigid length bobbing between his coworker's dark thighs. " Is loaded with magic? "

A toothy head tilts in confusion. Sybastian kind of assumed there was something unknown at play here, he just can't tell the implications.

" You can smell it, right? You know who this reminds you of. "

Syb's eyes widen.

" Did you also know that this fleshlight is connected to our Admin? She felt everything you just did to her, Sybastian. " The incubus chuckles, letting his drool seep onto the rim of your pussy, then spreading the aphrodisiac fluid over your lips, circling you clit with it languidly.

Sybastian doesn't need to be a scientist to know you're probably losing your mind by now.

" Oh you fucked her open like a rabid bull. I wish I could see her state right now- I bet she's sweating a storm in her clothes, her own cum and wetness dripping down her legs, too cock-drunk to speak! What a good job you did... "

Sybastian spaces off slightly, picturing what the results of his careless and selfish fucking must have reduced you to. He almost feels bad, if the image the Lust demon painted in his head wasn't so awfully erotic. He literally used you.

" Mmm, now, let's give her something to really scream about, big boy. "

In a blur of movement, Santi presses against the gray monster, both lengths squeezed together, pumped hastily a couple times but with practiced precision that makes Syb groan. And then, much to his growing amusement and shock, the incubus hovers your toy above them both, strings of falling seed used to further lubricate both of them.

The demon looks to be burning with anticipation, shuddering as he presses the thing down.

" ... Won't. Fit. " The mimic eventually mumbles, wondering if Santi's intent is to actually rip you open.

" Don't be silly- " There's a rasped snicker. " I've seen her bounce on Lord Krulu's lap. Just lie back and let me make this memorable for the three of us. "

It's a stretch. A fat stretch, but it seems the magical properties of the toy are indeed aligned with your own physical limitations, because the fleshlight gradually accepts both monsters, clenching with mind-melting pressure against both leaking cocks.

Santi is the first to moan low and needy, claws sinking into the bark of the tree his coworker leans against so he can steady himself in the face of such sudden ecstasy. Sybastian follows with his own trill, their members twitching and pulsing, trapped against each other, within you.

When Syb makes a disoriented motion to try and grasp the thing, make it move over them both, the incubus snaps his teeth at him in a language the other understands, determined to control the pace. And control he does, viciously pumping them both off, twisting, grinding the thing frequently.

A pace that would otherwise certainly chafe both males is now sloppy and soaked, lubricated by Syb's seed, your wetness and Santi's precum. They fuck themselves silly, trading groans and frantically bumping their hips, one moment thrusting in perfect sync, the next selfishly seeking their own pleasure.

The incubus' tongue hangs and he tosses his head back when a certain familiar pace of contractions around him is felt.

" Oh- Ohhh fuck- " He calls to the other. " Feel that? Yeah? " Sybastian nods and makes a strangled ambiguous noise. " She's cumming. Hard. "

Both of them grow fevered, preening at the knowledge.

" I hope she's fucking screaming. I hope she's trying to guess who we are. "

The fiend had always been too good with his obscene little comments, Sybastian's second, overstimulated orgasm is flayed out of him with no ounce of mercy. Santi gets almost hysterical with the conquest, getting high off the power he's exerting over both you and the mimic, climbing to his peak and letting his eyes roll back when the first pulses of an approaching end seize him.

The only reason he doesn't scream when he's suddenly grabbed by the horns is because there was already little breath in his lungs to begin with.

A pair of metallic, sticker-adorned arms loom from above, rigged hands wrenching his head back to face a slightly cracked visor displaying a deceitfully friendly face.

" 1'll B3 t4k1Ng 7H4t N0w. :] "

Fuck.

His robotic coworker uses superior reflexes to grab the toy, wrench it off both monsters, and bolt out of sight with surprising speed for a being of such immense density.

Instincts claw at the hellish monster. He only stands there for a stunned second, clutching nothing but air, before he's snarling like a feral creature and racing after the party bot, pushing many of his other coworkers away.

Grimbly gains on all of them, but when the incubus drops onto all fours the two collide and roll away in a mess of shouting limbs.

Gallon passes by them and laughs, then gets lashed aside by a whip lit on dullahan fire.

Vinnel is thrown across the garden, apparently launched away by Fank-e cackling in the distance.

This isn't ending any time soon...

#Santi oc #Fank-e oc #Sybastian oc #Belo oc #Vinnel oc #Patches oc #Gallon oc #Grimbly oc #Morell oc #Nebul oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monsterfucker #terato tag #not sfw #monster x reader #minors dni

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ray-gt · 1 year

Text

Rules of the Party: Luck of the Draw

The party play a game of Potion Roulette. What could possibly go wrong?

(Had to split this one into two parts because it was getting too long. Hope to post Part 2 soon!)

_______________________________________________________________________

There was a lull over the party that afternoon when they sat around camp in the deep woods just outside of the great alpine market of Halambad. Situated in a deep, wooded valley between the three tallest peaks of the East Continent, Halambad was the capital of magic users from all across the land. Sorcerers, witches, wizards, tieflings, clerics, drakes, druids - all and more traveled to Halambad to practice, to trade, to learn. The air in the valley smelled of it, the ground thrummed with its energy, the woods were alive, calling out to it.

A traveller, on first visit to Halambad, may find this sensation euphoric, transcendent even. However, many of the company had journeyed to the market before and knew that, behind the mystical spells, pretty trinkets, and winking faces, was just another city filled with people doing what people usual do at market: trade and scam.

They’d arrived in Halambad more than three days prior with two primary goals in mind: to stock up on supplies, and to scout out a job. By the afternoon in question, even Quinn, who found every aspect of the East Continent new and wonderful, was beginning to tire.

Two more days.

They’d found a merchant in town that would pay handsomely for an armed escort through the mountains and down to Lile, the human city of The Flats. It was an easy job for good money so they’d accepted eagerly. The only issue was that they had to wait until the merchant closed up shop in Halambad and was ready to move on.

Two days.

Around the fire, Kip sat with Heron on his shoulder. He was plucking aimlessly at a fiddle. Jade had made Oberon buy him a new one at the market on account of him throwing the last one overboard. It needed to be tuned, but he didn’t seemed bothered.

Oberon and Almara were paying cards, though neither seemed particularly invested in the game. They stared at their cards with blank expressions.

Jade was restringing her bow and sharpening her arrows even though she’d done both the day before, and Gallon was snoring with his back against a tree and his arms crossed.

Quinn looked around at them. It’d been weeks since he’d run off with them and journeyed East on the Burnt Sienna, and for the most part, he’d enjoyed the journey and the company. However, on afternoons like this, a twist in his gut couldn’t help but make him think he’d made a huge mistake.

“I’m bored.” He said at last, resting his chin in his palm.

The rest of the party looked up at him, shaken out of their stupor by his voice. He found he had that effect on them - he was, for better or worse, impossible to ignore.

“It’s like traveling with a pygmy wolf.” Kip muttered.

Almara rolled her neck on her shoulders. “Sometimes, Quinn, my love, that’s the life. Flashes of excitement, punctuated by a whole lot of terrible boredom.” She said. She plucked a card from her hand and placed it on top of the stack between her and Oberon. “Vantinyulf. I win.”

Oberon rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well done.” He conceded with a grumble. “That was the last round. There are only so many hits to my pride I can take.”

“You have pride?” Kip asked from the other side of the fire. “I learn something knew about you, Oberon, every day. What a marvel.”

“I can teach you something now if you’d like, Elf.” Oberon retorted.

Kip grinned, “Is that a promise?”

A sound, halfway between a growl and a groan, emanated from Jade’s throat. “Enough.” She said. “Can we go 5 minutes without bickering?”

“Unlikely.” Kip said, and it was unhelpful. Then Quinn watched as an idea bloomed across the bard’s expression. “I know how we can pass the time.”

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, for the last time, no.” Oberon said, but Kip waved him off.

“Oh, you wish.” He laughed. “But no, not what I was hinting at this time.” His bright eyes landed on Almara who met them and, after a few moments, grinned in turn.

“Oh, that’s such a bad idea.” She said, already onboard. She looked around at the rest of the group. “Anyone up for a round of Potion Roulette?”

Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I hate Potion Roulette.”

Oberon laughed, “That’s because you’re bad at it.”

Jade sent him a quizzical look. “You can’t be bad at it. It’s a game of chance. It’s not even a game - it’s just suffering.” She paused and shook her head. “And I always get the worst one.”

“That’s the spirit!” Almara said, a conspiratorial air overtook her. “So, are we all in?”

“No,” Heron said, floating off of Kip’s shoulder. Quinn didn’t his best to not stare and failed. Her bright orange wings and amber hair shone amongst all the greens of the forest. She’d kept her distance ever since they’d met, and while he respected it, Quinn couldn’t help but be drawn in by her presence. “It would probably kill me. And I don’t want to be around for whatever chaos you land yourselves in. I will go stay with some local Fey. But you all enjoy.”

“Alright, Heron.” Kip said with a smile. “You have fun now.”

She blew him a kissed and flew off into the woods, leaving a train of copper dust floating behind her.

“I’m in.” Oberon said, returning to conversation.

“In.” Gallon grunted without opening an eye, making the rest of the party jump.

“I’m always in.” Kip smirked.

Almara looked at Quinn. “Quinn, darling?”

Quinn looked around, they all had a fey look on their faces. However, he’d take that over being bored.

“I don’t know the game.” He started.

“All the better.” Kip winked up at him and made his stomach somersault. “That just leaves our lovely Jade?”

Jade squinted but eventually let out a long breath.

“Fine.” She said. “But I have a couple of rules. Remember, we have a job and a long journey in a couple of days.”

“Always a killer of fun.” Kip muttered. “Fine. Let’s have them.”

“First, non-permanent modifications only. I don’t want to have to go through what happened last time again.”

“For the record,” Almara purred. “I think Oberon looked rather fetching with a drake tail.”

“You and every drake hide trader on the Continent.” Oberon grumbled. “I had to trade a pure-bred Lillian horse to get it removed. I support the rule.”

“Second.” Jade said. “24 hours only. I don’t want anything lingering by the time we start the job.”

“Makes sense.” Kip conceded. “Third?”

“We’re adding a blank.”

There was so much outcry in response to this final rule that you would have thought she was rationing their food, or banning them from drink.

Quinn, beginning to tire of constantly being confused, sighed. “What’s a blank?”

“Just the best way to ruin a good time.” Kip muttered, plucking angrily at a string of his fiddle as if to emphasise his point.

“No blank.” Gallon agreed.

“Thank you, Gallon. Ever the voice of reason.”

“Come on, my love.” Almara whined. “Don’t spoil the fun.”

Quinn watched as Jade’s expression morphed through confusion, exasperation, frustration, back to mild annoyance in a matter of moments. “Have you all forgotten that we’re running hot right now? We need someone with full control of their senses. Lindesse would do anything to catch us unawares.” She said and Quinn felt his cheeks redden.

“We haven’t heard anything from the Thelebar’s since we crossed the Isle.” Oberon countered.

“And when have you ever trusted perfect silence?” Jade rebuked and Oberon bowed his head in submission.

“Ok,” Kip said, standing up and holding his hands in a placating gesture. “Ok. Jade, of course we will agree to the your terms - even if they are cowardly.”

“Thank you, Kip.” Jade said, flatly.

“Now that that’s settled.” Quinn spoke up. “Can someone please explain to me what in all realms I’ve agreed to?”

***

Potion Roulette was a rather simple game. It was popular across the East Continent and most alchemists, brewers, and apothecaries were familiar with it. Though the more professionally-aligned of the craft looked down upon the game, they couldn’t deny it was profitable. It was a good way to shift potions that were close to expiry (or, in the case of ‘Spiked Potion Roulette’, actually expired), to sell off more expensive merchandise, or, as was often the case, to test out something a little more experimental.

The rules are as such. The players approach a potion seller with a sack of gold and any conditions, rules, or exceptions (in this case, all those listed by Jade) and the seller will, in their turn, provide potions respective to the number of players and value of gold.

It was commonly understood that a good game of Potion Roulette required at least 5 gold per player - 10 if you were really looking for fun. As the party were including a blank - that is a potion with no effects - they settled on 7 gold per potion. At that range, they could get good quality, mid-range varieties without the usual risks associated with the cheap stuff.

After acquiring the potions, the players - each blindfolded - take turns choosing a potion. Then, when all have been chosen, the players drink their potions at once and then...well, who knows after that.

Thankfully, in Halambad, there was no shortage of brewers, though they ranged across a spectrum of reputation. Despite their protests, Kip and Almara eventually agreed to purchase from guild-aligned sellers only. Though that didn’t stop them from seeking out the most interesting of them.

Ti-afren was a Bog Elf. The Bog Elves are, in Kip’s opinion, strange and unsettling. Though they have a natural gift for brewery and “tapping into the essence of things”, which makes them powerful brewmasters. As such, ‘Ti-afren’s House of Drink, Slink, and Stink’ was known amongst those in the know as the place to go for all things odd. And not long after entering, Kip and Almara left with a crate of six identical opaque silver bottles, shining in the afternoon sun.

They had no idea what they contained, or what they would do, only that one did absolutely nothing.

***

They all gathered around, empty potion bottles were strewn about the campfire, silver flickering white in the firelight. To Quinn, it almost felt like ceremony.

Kip pinched a small piece of parchment from the crate and unfolded it with delicate fingers. Though he couldn’t make out what it said, Quinn could see that scrawled across the page in a jagged, pointed script were Ti-afren’s notes.

“Ok.” Kip said, Quinn watched the half-elf’s sparkling eyes squint as they quickly scanned across the page. When he came to the end of it, he closed his eyes briefly and hummed. It was like whatever he’d read was honey on his tongue and he was savouring the taste. “This will be interesting.”

“Enough jest,” Oberon rolled his eyes. “Out with it, Elf.”

Kip tutted. “No theatre with you, Oberon. Oh well, I suppose you are right - enjoy it, it doesn’t come often.” Before Gallon could demonstrate his dislike for that remark, Kip continued, occasionally glancing back at the parchment for reference. “It says here that the potions should take 10 minutes after ingestion to take effect.”

“Love that.” Almara nodded appreciatively. “Ti-afren knows what he’s doing. I do enjoy a bit of suspense.”

“I don’t.” Jade muttered. She’d been nervous ever since Kip and Almara had returned with the order. She’d been the most hesitant to down her potion. “I don’t like any of this.”

Almara draped a long arm over Jade and held her close. “I know, love. But I think a bit of uncertainty is good for you.”

Jade just crossed her arms.

Quinn had a similar twisted feeling in his gut and he was yet to determine if it was nerves, excitement, or the potion not sitting well in his system. Maybe it was all three, or another option he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t sure.

Regardless, the energy around the group was intoxicating, made even more electrifying by the natural magic that thrummed through the glade. He imagined what his mother would think of him in that moment - playing a dangerous potion drinking game with armed mercenaries, unsure of what would happen. The image of her expression caused him to grin. She’d always kept him so close, under the strictest supervision. No unvetted friendships, no journeys on his own, nothing that would present any risk to him. The only night he’d been granted any space at all was his betrothal. And maybe she was right to be cautious, because look what he’d done with it.

His smile broadened and a heat bloomed from his centre. He’d taken action. He’d made the decision. There was no way he was going back West. And so with that commitment in his heart, he said.

“What’s so interesting, Kip? What are the potions?”

Kip looked up, and seemed momentarily caught of guard by his smile, his forwardness. After a second’s recovery, Kip’s expression was conspiratorial, he rested a gentle hand on Quinn’s thigh and laughed. Quinn hoped the night would hide the heat in his cheeks.

“I knew you’d have fun, my Prince.” Kip said in a voice that flowed like liquid gold. “We have a good mix of things it seems.” With his free hand, he re-read the list of potions. As he did, Quinn felt his whole body buzz. “Ok, first up, we have Jade’s nasty little blank.”

Jade’s dour face twisted into a scowl. It was the angriest he’d ever seen her. From Quinn’s observations over the last few weeks, she’d always been the voice of reason. The party respected her as their leader, they accepted her judgement and followed her call, she broke up the fights, and usually put up with Kip’s hyperactive tongue. But here, stripped of surety, she was a lot less tolerant.

Kip seemed to notice too and quickly moved onto the rest of the list. “Ok, looks like we have a set of twin potions - at least that’s what I gather from their names.” He frowned. “One is The Upgrade and the other is The Downgrade.”

“That last one makes me nervous.” Oberon chuckled. He elbowed Gallon in the ribs. “Bet you get that one, brother.”

Gallon huffed and elbowed him back - hard enough that Oberon lost his footing and landed on his arse. They both laughed.

“Did the brewer include a list of effects?” Jade asked through a tense jaw.

“It doesn’t look like it.” Kip said, scouring the page as if that information were hidden somewhere and he just couldn’t find it. “Ti-afren just provided the names, I’m afraid.” He even looked it - just a little. “We’ll find out effects soon enough.”

Jade paled again and her arms tightened around her chest. Almara crooned and ran her long fingers through Jade’s short hair. In the dark, Quinn could see the tips of her fingers glowing. He wondered if that was just something she did, or if she were using magic to calm Jade’s nerves.

“What about the rest?” He found himself asking. Kip looked gratefully up at him.

“We have The Heart Trap - I’ve been the victim of enough of these to have a good idea of what it is.” Kip shook his head as if recalling a memory - or many. He continued. “The Truth Sleuth - not quite sure what that is, maybe a truth serum? And, finally, The Delusion Illusion Solution - Ti-afren does love a triplet rhyme. I can’t say I blame him, I’m guilty myself.”

He folded the parchment again and put it in his coat pocket. That was that. The potions were known, they’d been drunk. All they had to do was wait.

Around the group, eyes scanned, trying to guess who’d drunk what, and when they’d take effect.

Turns out, when you’re waiting, 10 minutes is a long time.

***

Oberon was first.

One moment, he was standing among them, a wicked grin on his face and eyes flashing. The next, his whole face went slack, his dark eyes glazed over, and he began to twirl in place, like a village girl during midsummer festival.

“Dance with me!” He pleaded no one in particular as he laughed and flung his hands around.

The look on Kip’s face was nothing but unbridled delight. He tapped Quinn on his thigh.

“I’m guessing that’s The Delusion Solution. Quick, Quinn.” He said. “Remember all of this. Exactly what he says, how he moves, what he does. This is too good for only us to witness - we will turn it into a song.”

“Hey!” Almara tutted, her arm still slung around Jade who watched Oberon with fear. “Potion Roulette is a safe space, Kip. We agreed to that years ago.”

Kip sighed. “But -“

At that moment, Gallon perked up. However, instead of lumbering over to Kip to punish the bard for mocking his brother, he just stared at Kip, turned, and then dashed into the woods. They all looked on after him a while, puzzled.

“We’ll see what eventuates of that.” Kip mused. Then he turned back to Almara. “My darling, I’m a poet surrounded by muses! I can’t help when inspiration strikes!”

Quinn hadn’t been listening. He was focussing in on his own body, wondering when he would know the potion was taking effect. A cold thought hit him and he groaned internally at the possibility that he’d been given the blank. That would be just his luck wouldn’t it? He blamed his mother. It wasn’t logical and it wasn’t fair, but he did it anyway.

“I don’t care about your inspir-“ Almara stopped. Her face blanched and she looked like she was going to be sick.

Behind her, Oberon continued to sing and frolic around the fire.

Kip’s face was awash with concern. It was one of the most genuine masks Quinn had yet to see him don. He took a step towards her, but Almara stuck out an arm telling him to stay back. With a swift movement, she push Jade to the side before collapsing on her hands and knees.

“What-“ she began but the rest just came out as a long string of pain and curses in a language Quinn didn’t recognise.

Then Quinn had to blink a couple of times to make sure he was seeing clearly because she began to grow. Every second that passed saw her shoot up bigger and faster until at last it stopped.

Still bent on all fours, she panted, her periwinkle skin coated a film of sweat that shone like glitter in the flickering firelight.

Kip and Jade looked up at her - Kip in wonder, Jade in horror.

Quinn was stunned. She was still shorter than him - that much he could already tell - but on sight only he guess she’d come up to his chest if they were both standing, which would make her about 12-13 feet tall. It was odd, seeing her like this. He could make out the details of her face, the intricacies of the jewellery that decorated her horns. He could see her as he’d been able to see his own people back West.

When the pain had past and the shock of the transition wore away, she let out a long breath and laughed, running her fingers through her long hair.

“This is…” She paused, pressing back up onto her knees and examining herself. “Incredible! Ok, stand-up, Quinn. Let’s see!”

Quinn grinned and got to his feet.

He was right. He still stood over a head taller than her, but that didn’t seem to dampen her spirits. She looked up at him beaming.

“Definitely The Upgrade.”

Quinn nodded, “I’m biased, but I’d say so.”

She laughed. Then her gaze turned down to Kip and Jade, who stood with their necks craned. “What do you think?” She asked.

“It’s fantastic.” Kip appreciated. “You really are a force of nature, love.”

Almara winked down at him before turning to Jade. Their leader was looking worse for wear. With each new effect, she became more and more skittish. It struck Quinn that maybe for her getting either a potion or a blank was undesirable. They meant she had to either give up control or try to maintain it amongst chaos. The way she looked at Almara though was a whole different emotion.

“Jade?” Almara crooned down at the ranger. “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m afraid and confused!” Jade exclaimed. The remaining group stared at her. Her eyes bulged and she frowned, seemingly thrown by her own words. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Kip squinted his eyes at her and hummed.

“Interesting.” He purred. “Jade, who do you like more, Gallon or Oberon?”

“Gallon.” Jade replied without hesitation. She blushed. “Wait, what? I-“

Kip laughed, “I was right! It is a truth serum.”

Jade put her head in her hands, “I hate this game!”

And she’d never said anything truer.

Quinn looked at Almara who was studying Jade. There was a fey gleam in her eyes. “That’s fun.” Was all she said, but before she could do anything more, Kip crossed his arms and tutted.

“You are such a hypocrite!”

Almara feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know for a fact that you do.”

“Whatever.” Almara grumbled. She looked between Kip and Quinn. “Only two left.”

Kip considered this. “Well, we don’t really know what drove Gallon out into the woods.” He said, running a thoughtful hand through his sea-green hair. His bright eyes met Quinn’s and at that moment, the giant was glad he wasn’t in Jade’s position. “Do you feel anything?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. Though I don’t really know what to look for.”

Kip nodded, “I don’t feel anything either. There’s just the blank, The Heart Trap, and The Downgrade left. Based on Almara, I guess we can assumed what The Downgrade would be.”

His gaze became unfocused and his eyes wide, as if he’d only just realised what that would look like in practice.

“Well,” Quinn intervened before the thought could spiral. “Maybe that’s why Gallon ran off?”

Kip came back to himself. “That would make sense, we should probably find him.” When no one made any move to act on that, Kip continued. “Well then. Quinn? Are you desperately in love with me?”

The bard’s question was so blunt Quinn choked on his own breath.

“What?” He stammered out, his neck grew hot. He winced when he felt Almara’s knowing eyes bore into him. “No! Why would you even ask that?”

Kip shrugged, “The Heart Trap sounds like a standard love potion. Not the most original of Ti-afren, but they are fun because they’re always messy.” He paused, contemplating. “My feelings for you remain the same.”

At that moment, Quinn desperately wished Kip had been the one to get the truth serum. Then he could ask what those feelings were. It was impossible to know what the bard really thought.

“Well then -“ Quinn began but he stopped.

His skin grew impossibly cold and his lungs were sucked of oxygen. In that moment, regret flooded him.

Why had he agreed to this stupid game?

What was happening to him?

His stomach churned and twisted, like a wild animal trapped in a snare. His vision continually shifted in and out of focus as he stumbled on his footing. Almara grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

Huh, strange.

She must have grown taller, because now they were eye to eye.

A ringing grew in his ears and his brain felt like it was sizzling in a cast iron skillet. He couldn’t focus, he heard a distant voice call out before the world fell away.

“Quinn?”

***

“Quinn!”

He was being shaken, and none too carefully. The owner of the voice was close, face not too far from his own. Quinn was sitting upright, resting against a tree.

No. None of the trees in Halambad are this thick.

The owner of the voice he’d heard returned to both metaphorically and literally shake him out of his thoughts.

“Wake up, you annoying little - Gallon, please, a little personal space? Ugh, Quinn!”

Quinn finally had it in him to open his eyes. What he saw made him desperately want to close them again. There, in front of him, was Kip. The half-elf's beautiful, golden face, painted with freckles, was the same size as his own. The bard’s hands cupped either side of Quinn’s face as his cerulean eyes searched him for some sign that he was ok.

Quinn reached out with his own hand and brought it to rest on Kip’s shoulder. It fit. It wasn’t too big, it didn’t crush him. Quinn didn’t have to think about how much pressure to apply. There was his hand on the shoulder of the bard, his thumb resting perfectly in the curve of his collarbone.

It took another moment for Quinn to panic.

“What’s going on?” He asked, heaving through lungs desperate for air. “I don’t understand.”

“The Downgrade.” Came a voice from above him.

Quinn’s eyes scanned upwards to find Almara looming above him, a frown plastered on her much larger face.

Whatever Kip may say after the fact, Quinn definitely didn’t scream. He didn’t.

He didn’t.

“Yes,” Kip grumbled once Quinn had recovered. He used gentle hands to move Quinn’s face around, still scanning for damages. Quinn could feel the calluses on the half-elf’s fingertips, caused no doubt from years of fiddle playing and sailing. “Looks like you lucked out. I think you might be alright now. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” Was all he managed to reply.

It turned out that Quinn had only been out for about an hour. However, in that time, quite a few things had progressed.

Oberon was no longer dancing. Apparently his hallucinations had changed and he was going around knighting anything and everything. While he was unconscious, Quinn had been knighted three different times in three different kingdoms. Kip had at least been smart enough to wrestle Oberon’s sword from him as soon as he’d noticed the change. Now, the knightings were all done with the bow of Kip’s fiddle - something the bard was less than thrilled by.

Gallon had also returned. Instead of running away due to the effects of The Downgrade as they’d all assumed, he’d run off to “collect things” as Kip put it. He’d returned to camp with arms full of fine clothes and jewellery, bottles of expensive wine and perfumes and had placed them lovingly at Kip’s feet.

“Where’d he-“

Kip pinched the bridge of his nose.

“He stole them from the market.” He turned to the orc, who’d been standing very closely behind Kip throughout the whole conversation. Upon turning, Kip found himself surrounded by a wall of thick, green muscle, eye-level with Gallon’s chest. He paused a moment to appreciate the view before he met the orc’s big doe eyes. “I’m flattered, but you will return it all in the morning. I don’t fancy another trip to the Halambad jail. You aren’t ready for what you’d have to do to get out.”

“Ok.” Gallon grinned and brought his face down towards Kip’s, but Kip pushed it aside with a frown.

“Not when you’re like this, Gallon. It’s no fun.” Then he placed his delicate hands on the orc’s chest and gave him an encouraging push. “Go on. Go gather more fire wood, we’ll need it tonight.”

Without any rebuttal, Gallon was off again into the woods. Gallon, whose main interaction with Kip was calling him stupid or threatening to kill him, put up no fight whatsoever to the order.

“That was,” Quinn began but didn’t know how to finish.

He’d been struck silent by how large Gallon was. At 9 feet, the orc had always been bigger than the rest of the party, but never anything remarkable to Quinn. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with - an immovable object. Living rock. He understood now why they all got so tense when he was upset.

“The Heart Trap.” Kip groaned.

In the background, Oberon knighted Jade as she sat around the last remnants of the fire. She told him she thought he was being ridiculous and that exiled princes can’t knight anyone. He knighted her again for her frankness.

As he went through all the potions and the members of their party, Quinn eyed Kip.

“You drank the blank.”

Kip clicked his tongue, “I knew that this would happen. I knew as soon as Jade pushed for it that I’d be the one to drink it. She had some part in it, I swear.”

“No, I didn’t.” She called.

“She’s telling the truth.” Almara said from above them.

“Why does that matter?” Kip scowled.

At that moment, there was a loud dragging sound coming from the edge of the forest and Gallon emerged, pulling an entire uprooted tree behind him.

“No, you big dumb orc!” Kip yelled, stomping over to him, much to Gallon’s delight. “That’s not what I meant!”

By midnight, Kip had had enough. And while it wasn’t in the spirit of the game, he’d asked Almara to put Oberon, Gallon, and Jade to sleep. She did and assured him that she’d keep watch through the night.

As he lay on Almara’s bedroll, her shadow looming over him in a way that still caused his heart to panic, Quinn looked up at the trees, standing so much higher above him and the stars that felt so much further away.

His stomach writhed.

“Relax.” Kip said from behind him. He’d set up his bedroll next to Quinn’s. Quinn still hadn’t gotten used to how close - how real - Kip was to him at this size. It made his heart dance. “Remember, it’s temporary. But if I go mad in the interim, you have my permission to kill everyone when you’re back to being huge and brutish.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(More shenanigans to come! I’m aiming to post part two within the next week. Hope you like it! - ray xx)

#lol landing on who got which potion was the hardest part #there were too many options #gt #g/t #gt writing #gt community #giant #tiny #size swap #shifting #giant/tiny #oc: kip #oc: quinn #oc:jade #oc: almara #oc: gallon #oc: oberon #oc: heron #ray's writing

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