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speedyowl152 · 2 years

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Something i find fun, if Adrien and Félix are sentimonsters, is Adrien's feather allergy. Aside from the dramatic irony.

An allergy is where the body incorrectly labels an object as a threat, and the immune system reacts, or even dangerously overreacts, in ways which could be threatening to the person it's trying to protect.

If Adrien is a senti, then he's made from a feather, that's his soul. His allergy is targeting something that is already part of his being and biology. That means it's not an allergy, it's an autoimmune disease.

Allergies are genetic, as are predispositions to autoimmune diseases, and Adrien and Félix are genetically identical, though we don't know if Félix shares his allergy. It's possible it hasn't been activated yet. His odds of developing this could be heightened by a bunch of factors; illnesses, food, sunlight.

I'm excited to see if he'll share it or not, if being around duusu will be good for him (someone who understands, to befriend and vent to like Plagg is for Adrien) or bad for him (y'know, a health hazard).

Adrien having an autoimmune disease, maybe he's on immunosuppressants, maybe he's not. I think that could further explain some of Gabriel's actions, not justify them but make them make a little more sense.

After all, the feathers are in the rings, maybe that's a small part of why he hasn't been given his yet. Maybe it's part of why Gabriel has so little physical contact with him, he could give his kid a rash or worse.

If your kid has a weakened immune system and your wife is dying or gone, trying to keep that kid inside, reducing his and your own contact with people, especially other kids - because kids spread diseases like wild fire. I get it. It makes me feel really bad for them. Adrien doesn't even understand what his father's protectiveness is about, besides just losing Emilie. And Gabriel can't even begin to have that conversation with him without everything coming out. About why his feather allergy is such a big deal, about papillon and his wife.

Anyway I'm just thinking about how he ended up letting him go to school. About how he let Nino give him a party but absolutely would've been advising for it to be outside in the open air rather than letting a load of strange children into his clean house.

He really wasn't that bad of a dad at the start. But Nathalie's right, he's getting worse and worse. And I'm worried about how he'll cope and what he'll do without her, now that Adrien is the only close person to him that he has left. Beyond whatevers going on with Tomoe anyway.

#i dont like villains who are evil because theyre evil. theres always logic and understanding behind it #and i like how with miraculous you only need a few hcs for the villains to make sense and be human #chloe and lila are messed up from the absense of their parents. chloes spoilt and lonely #and lilas learnt she can manipulate her way to whatever she wants because her parents dont care enough to check. shes lonely too #and she gets rewarded everytime her manipulation works in her favour. its why she keeps doing it.#she makes friends the only way she knows how when she feels so different being constantly uprooted and neglected #félix has his life and freedom under threat. hes been working from the start to free himself #all while watching lb & cn destroy his kin everyweek. as his uncle controls his brother and keeps making new sentis to be sent to die #and gabriels the kind of person who simply cannot be trusted to hold power alone. and fundementally misunderstands other people #he doesnt know how to empathise and now he wields an emotion detecting miraculous he never needs to try.#its making him more and more self centred as his confidence is continuely knocked by children and time continues to pass without emilie #and hes managed to find a way to become even more alone #and nathalie just wants to do her best by the agrestes because shes come to love this family as if it were her own #and now shes realised enabling gabriel has only made things worse for everyone involved #i just. i like that stuff where theres logic beyond revenge on an accident or just sheer malice #where there isnt one root of all evil character #ml spoilers #ml s5e2 spoilers #ml s5e1 spoilers #evolution spoilers #multiplication spoilers #sentimonster theory #dont come at me to tell me im enabling abusers or being ableist or something okay #i literally have an autoimmune disease. i literally had 5 diseases at once last week.#i hate crowds and im crushingly lonely living in the closet at my parents #i will kin adrien and shove headcanons on him with hope itll end happily when they win as much as i please and you cannot stop me #hes immunosuppressed too i just called it ive manifested it get absolutely fucked #i wanna go to school/work and make friends and gain the courage to slowly claim back my identity for myself #and i will live that through a fictional 15 year old cat boy if i want. fight me.#own post

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pinkfey · 1 year

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imagining ilya cradling kinasi’s dying body and sobbing. delicious.

#when the character arcs have long since passed #and the journey ended long ago #and the tenderness of the wound tells ilya all she needs to know. that she doesn’t want her to die.#mfmgmfnfmgnnfngngnfnfnmngnm #the ache she develops for her evil ‘it’s complicated’ rival/enemy/gf who she hates so much >>>#kinasi never becomes a ‘good’ person. that’s not the point of her story.#she never becomes good in the way ilya never becomes corrupt #in the way they both want each other #it’s a lesson in human capacity #it isn’t that ilya gets corrupted it’s that she loses some of her Jedi Baggage #which gives her room for something other than said Jedi Baggage #that doesn’t mean the ooga booga Dark Side #it’s just change #and vice versa. kina doesn’t gain ‘good traits’#it’s that she gains the wisdom to destroy her sect #which frees her. just like with ilya she has room for something else now and that doesn’t mean the Light Side or whatever #with both of them anything other than the intense conditioning they were both essentially born into is a net positive #the wounds are there always ofc. ilya’s lost leg. kinasi’s scars born from unnatural use of the force so even the force cannot heal them.#unending physical pain they need to live with forever #products of the system they were raised in and the conditioning that led them to the poorly adjusted adults they became #kina moreso for obvious reasons but ilya ‘catholic guilt’ semree was not at all the healthy adult she thought she was #was i going somewhere with this.. who’s to say #anyways.txt #x: someone to watch me die

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woonderfullie · 11 months

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Quasi-Kuro related ramblings about the demons under the cut

(most of it is in the tags)

Demons as catalysts for change and upheaval, or at least ardent advocates for it, using their presence to tip the scales

Could demons be summoned with less for less, through sacrifices that don't involve bloodshed but still have the power to drastically alter the course of one's life?

#woonderfull rambling #not canon in the slightest #psa vis a vis the tags: i was very sleepy and going /through/ it when i wrote these and it shows 乁⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ㄏ #kuroshitsuji #The cultists make no true sacrifices tied to their own identities. They offer nothing of value. They'd return to their lives unchanged!#Its just set dressing and debauchery for the sake of debauchery #In contrast O!Ciel's existence has been irreversibly transformed.#the vibes of supernatural elements acting as facilitators for the evil acts of humanity (initially well-intentioned or otherwise)#“There is no will in the angels but something higher than the will”#forget the dichotomy between good and evil; I'm talking law vs chaos #law embodies the divine. demons cannot completely shed the vestiges of heaven manifesting in the form of rules and contracts #“He alone could discern light and darkness Who also could foreknow before they fell those who would fall.”#Imagine being confined within the boundaries of your predetermined destiny only able to subtle subvert your purpose(⚆ᗝ⚆) truly a vibe kille #Humanity: the beings that have the capability for true chaos and 'evil'. Vessels for rebellion #*shakes Christianity* You can fit so many headcanons in here ⊂(･ω･*⊂)#This was ghost written by Thomas Aquinas #Oh my papa hasn't given me the capability for true free will? It's a shame left all these humans about...#I mean back to canon-relevant things: the Reapers as an organisation (arguably an antagonist to Sebastian ) pretty much embody order.#Not to imply they're angels but you know??#Let's not acknowledge whatever the undertaker is doing right now - he's single-handedly going to shoot holes in this post with a gatling gu #but then again I don't entirely subscribe to the school of thought that all devils = fallen angels so 😬😮‍💨#the tags got away from me admittedly ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

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thisgodwontforgiveyou · 1 year

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alex's monster form is soooo lame like its a great concept but yooooo baba yaga!!!! is just awful as a resident evil zombie design

#yoooooo arent OLD WOMEN SCARY????#also just the ridiculous oversaturation point of extremely mutated guys who are still completely coherent and consciouss #like every single fucking zombie ever being just a normal guy but evil is so exhausting #like its fine that they are still acting human or w/e i never had a problem with that with ganados and the urobuoros monsties #but when its just like. some guy who is still totally acting of their own free will but theyre CRAZAYYYY from the virus man whatever #its no surprise resident evil ended up copying outlast cus outlast has such a more interesting mechanism for that kind of thing

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ozzgin · 3 months

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“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

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diejager · 5 months

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Ok but like what about Wendigo reader? Maybe the team knows she's not exactly human but maybe in her file it just marked n/a and leaves it at that so they just assume that their sweet little medic is just a helpful spirit of some kind. Humans tend to give her a very wide birth since they seem to notice her as something they should leave the fuck alone, the boys just assume it's because of them always being near her and leave it at that. Till they're all on a mission and it all goes to shit, they're pinned down and then one of them ends up taking a bullet and reader just straight up fuckin losses it and next thing they know their is a 10 ft tall fuckin deer monster shredding bitches like their made of PAPER MACHE and EATING THEM, once the dust settles it moves towards them and slowly it shifts into their sweet medic but she is covered in blood and she just casually starts treating their wounds and the team is just like "Well mark me down as scared and horny" (if this makes no sense feel free to ignore)

Stag

Pairing: Monster 141 + Horangi & König x Wendigo!reader

Cw: cannibalism, human eating, greed, blood, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k (A/N): I felt a bit burnt out so I’m sorry if it’s bad, I reread it just in case, but it still feels bad.

They say that human greed is the source of evil, the all-consuming hunger for more —more than they need. Hunger drives humans to do the unspeakable, to break the line humanity had drawn and commit the taboo. Despite it being carved so deeply into the human psyche, passed down from generation to generation and the propaganda of humanism and equality, it doesn’t take much to make someone tip over, cross the edge nobody dared to and perform the unspeakable. Possession causes needs and needs cause greed.

That’s why people called to him for help, to carry out a clandestine mission to do their dirty work, his duty was to stop whatever men in power started, whatever men in power lost control —he was the one sent when they were scared. Fear was as coercive as power was. That was the reason Task Force 141 was first founded, to stop dangerous men like Hassan (Gaz remembered hearing from Soap that Ghost shot Hassan through the head, straight through him before he slumped down.) and Makarov, a man they were still searching for while signing a liaison contract with KorTac. Price, with Laswell’s help, managed to put the best of the best together: a wraith, a werewolf, a dragon, a harpy, a nagual and a cadejos vessel, all decorated with various medals for their work, and then there was you.

You were a mystery, even to Price who usually had clearance for anyone who joined them. Gaz knew, from a single glance, that you were far from human, you were a monster like Ghost was, turned after an occasion, or a hybrid like him. Surprisingly, Ghost seemed to welcome you warmly, albeit standoffish, having worked with you in the past, seeing that you both preferred working alone. Gaz wanted to show you the same heartwarming welcome as Ghost had, but there was something about you, an uneasiness he felt when he was around you. The others felt it as well, the innate need to keep their distance from you and the instinctual fear that had the hairs on their arms raised. Gaz could feel your eyes whenever you stared at him, like the eyes of a predator stalking its prey —it made him feel perturbed.

You seemed so human, yet so inhuman-like, your dull, thousand-yard stare, your inability to feel temperature (either cold or warm, you always wore the same clothes), your odd habits and your unusual calmness in every situation. Gaz had caught you staring at a private for much longer than what people considered normal, eyes glazed over and dilated as if you were seeing something else, daydreaming while being aware of your surroundings. Those were your moments, you were usually bubbly, always smiling at him whenever his eyes met yours or treating him with gentleness and always eager to help him. You had a softness to your being despite the eerie feel to you and your unique tendencies, you didn’t discriminate, nor did you show an ounce of hate towards hybrids and humans, treating everyone fairly.

Although you tried to fit in as best as you could, there were things that Gaz and the others just couldn’t shake off without questioning things. There was the lingering scent of blood on you, a metallic tang that stuck on his tongue after you walked by. König and Soap had confessed that they had a feeling that blood was a part of your scent, unwashable and impossible to hide, it clung to you like a second skin. They chalked it up to you being the Task Force’s medic, having brought people back from the brink of death and stitching men back together, you were practically bathed in the smell of blood and death every day.

Another thought was that they never saw you in the Mess hall for food, perhaps a cup of tea or a hot mug of coffee to boost you through a long shift in the infirmary as the base’s main medic if you weren’t deployed with them. Gaz never saw you eat, not once had he seen you hold a plate or bowl with substance for yourself. You would bring either of them a plate, caring for them whenever they were under your watch, giving them soup or anything that they could easily digest.

Gaz, Soap, Rudy and Horangi would chatter about you, throwing speculations on your breed, to see what hybrid or monster fit all your characteristics. You couldn’t be a wraith, your hands weren’t painted with death, a dark miasma that clung to you. You weren’t a werewolf, Soap would know, wolves were able to smell and recognize each other, it was an instinctual aspect of him. You weren’t any shifting hybrid either, there would be signs, little cues if you were one, and your classification wouldn’t be classified, painted over with a red line.

All they could was wonder and amble around with curiosity dripping from their tongues. Gaz was sure that he’d find out soon enough, whether it was an accident or your choice.

This wasn’t what Gaz meant by eventually, he didn’t mean being set up by Konni, a trap planted for them in the small Belgium town. It was the best set to box them in, a broken and ransacked ghost town that people fled from, walls greyed and cracked, the paint peeling off street lights and rusted metal poles, lost, forgotten and open. There didn’t have any cover, even if they ran and hid behind the crumbling walls, Konni had them surrounded on every end, concealed behind concrete walls and using the shadows to hide from sight.

It was chaotic, Konni had pushed them into an open area of the town, the centrepiece of it with a dilapidated, Greek fountain, chipped on the sides and green with mould, Gaz would’ve admired the architecture and the beauty it must’ve been in the past when it was still being cared for. They were backed up in a corner, Gaz couldn’t even stretch his wings out with how tightly they were packed together, the uncomfortable pull of his trapezius and the strain in his limbs kept him grounded. The tension was thick, palpable, Gaz could taste it in the air as much as anyone could, their shoulders tense, fingers tapping the trigger of their rifles. All they could do was wait for Konni to act first, to see where they would appear from and work their way out of this open area from there.

He had his back towards you, he couldn’t see you but he could feel you shake. It might’ve been from the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the nerve of being lied to, of falling into a trap when Ghost had voiced his suspicions about the lack of clearer intel. They were paying for their amateurism. He felt you shudder, breath stuttering, near panting with exhaustion. Gaz wanted to turn to you, words soothing your nerves and twitchy appearance, he acted letting drown in your mind, whatever it was, he hated it. His finger twitched on the trigger, jolting at the sudden crack of bones, an ugly and painful sound that made him wince. It shocked everyone, even the ever so silent and stoic Ghost who had a hard time hearing these cracks coming from you.

Damn this mission; damn the trap; damn this situation, Gaz needed to look at you, to see why your bones were breaking and limbs rattling. Instinctively, his wings shifted to cover you, the ends widening to cover your sides to protect you from whatever pained you, yet you didn’t let out a single squeak, no moan of pain or the grunt of suffering, you were silent. A part of his mind nagged at him to move, he could fly and try to outrun Konni mercenaries to find a way out, but then he’d leave your back open. He cursed lowly, teeth sinking into his lower lip in frustration, he was-

A loud screech thundered through the air, and screams and squelches followed it. You were missing.

You were shaking just a second ago, body wracked with some unknown ailment and the next, you were missing, your sack, attire, rifle and helmet were scattered on the ground, with a bony creature tearing through Konni ranks. The hair on his neck rose, an uneasy feeling overtaking him as he watched the creature rip men in half, tines stabbing through their torso like a buck fighting another, head lowered and antlers pointed forward. He watched the tall and thin monster move around, its face was one of a deer’s skull, eaten clean of skin and flesh, any muscle or fibre gone with whatever transformation it took. A crown of antler adorned its head, tall and imposing, as pale as its skull, a coat of black fur was wrapped around the neck, draping down the back like a ridge of fur.

“Fuck,” Gaz hissed, his body moving along the chaos the being created and your disappearance, he aimed his rifle and shot at the Russians who ran out of their hiding, fearful of the monster’s sudden arrival behind their ranks. “Captain! Is that-?”

“Don’t know anymore!” Price seemed to be as lost as Gaz was, reining in his confusion to focus on taking Konni out. “Keep your head in the game, Gaz; ask questions later.”

Gaz knew Price was right, the town was brimming with Russian ultranationalists, hiding and waiting for their time to jump at them. The situation was still chaotic, but it was better than being without cover. Gaz followed Horangi behind a wall, watching his back while they worked through the humans.

Somehow, Konni either retreated or were all dead, swallowed down by the beast that stood before them. Now that Gaz was standing so close to it - to you, after a few minutes of talking back and forth, they concluded that this was you from the pants that hung from your slim hips - he could see that the deer skull was just a mask covering your face, black and unidentifiable with those bright, gleaming eyes that stared down at him. Despite your curved back, bent to look at them, you towered over everyone, even König seemed small beside you, limbs almost as long as you, fingers tipped with blood that you were still licking off, a long tongue wrapped around your digit to clean yourself from blood, muscle and guts.

You were casually cleaning yourself up like a cat washing, even in the aircraft, you were gorging on the body of a man you picked up, jaw opening to show them the dozen of teeth before you clamped down on the forearm, tearing into the muscle with famished intent. None of them could take their eyes off you, their sweet, smiley medic who sometimes had their moments, devouring a man without batting an eye, obliviously uncaring of their staring. Gaz wasn’t sure if he knew how he felt, a warmth building up in his chest, a heat that seared into the fibres of his beings like an infectious thing. All they did was watch you eat, no one speaking until you finished your meal.

“Mind tell us what happened, Hunter?”

You perked up, blinking at Price owlishly, tongue lolling out to lick up the stray drop of blood that stuck on your skull’s teeth. Your chest rumbled, a soft growl rolling off your body while you tilted your head, you acted so much like a feline, grooming, reacting and moving like a curious cat, dangerous, yet so appealing.

“Wendigo,” you rasped, voice breathy and weak, you spoke in broken English, unable to speak fluently after turning, “Curse, eat human.”

Your little mannerism, the small tilt of your head and your fumbling hands, seemingly embarrassed or ashamed after your show of ruthless hunger and savagery was… eye-opening. Something stewed inside him, your being creating a ripple in his heart, pulling at the hunger in the depth of his gut. He was torn by the fear of having you as the potential enemy and the arousal of seeing you break men in half, painting the ground in crimson and guts, and satiating your hunger - craving - with human and monster flesh.

Gaz was fucked, both in the head and the situation.

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