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bucketsofmonsters · 9 months

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On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you.

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did.

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then.

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really.

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps.

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task.

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes.

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe.

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out.

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time.

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition.

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes.

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved.

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them.

What a privilege it was to die for them.

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out.

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming.

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall.

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up.

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you.

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders.

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes.

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you.

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into.

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible.

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative.

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing.

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact.

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more.

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind.

“Hello,” you responded.

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature.

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world.

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken.

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice.

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped.

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand.

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him.

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish.

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice.

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff.

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude.

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself.

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.”

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave.

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language.

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it.

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it.

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path.

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return.

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill.

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall.

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said.

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you.

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.”

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price.

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs.

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground.

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home.

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in.

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again.

Maybe not entirely alone.

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back.

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight.

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food.

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different.

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place.

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all.

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen.

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you.

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him.

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering.

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him.

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had.

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner.

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much.

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave.

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept.

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted.

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe.

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you.

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was.

You slid away from him, back into the cold.

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin.

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep.

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side.

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side.

You’d never slept better.

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back.

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right.

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable.

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer.

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be."

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out.

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm.

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you.

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant.

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday.

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago.

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now.

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed.

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again.

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds.

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy.

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done.

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him.

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky.

Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways.

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen.

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming.

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty.

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village.

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you.

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces.

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak.

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears.

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly?

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle.

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words.

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it.

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore.

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left.

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife.

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more.

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something.

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head.

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse.

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist.

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient.

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted.

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you.

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for.

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened.

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him.

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways.

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you?

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him.

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be?

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now?

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home.

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him.

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking.

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement.

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes.

He returned in a few moments.

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse.

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get.

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away.

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight.

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good.

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean.

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go.

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever.

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere.

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed.

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress.

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm.

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them.

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off.

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again.

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change.

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises.

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well.

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option.

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem.

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree.

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright.

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew.

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you.

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive.

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it.

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar.

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it.

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them.

Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing.

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that.

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path.

You took off in a dead sprint after him.

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready.

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place.

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation.

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be.

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck.

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you.

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it.

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp.

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly.

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight.

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you.

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make.

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful.

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot.

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you.

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.”

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere.

And not a moment too soon.

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze.

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal.

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man.

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized.

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case.

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate.

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did.

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor.

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt.

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly.

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred.

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be.

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive.

“Pytho?” you called out.

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off.

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots.

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime.

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished.

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth.

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here.

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him.

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire.

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond.

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain.

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him.

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes.

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind.

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home.

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell.

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten.

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him.

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for.

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand.

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky.

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.”

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest.

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides.

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him.

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope.

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did.

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that.

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it.

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place.

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked.

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat.

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest.

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place.

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope.

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly.

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor.

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him.

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years.

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there.

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected.

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong.

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner.

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment.

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.”

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.”

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied.

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.”

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it.

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin.

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice.

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that.

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon.

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell.

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before.

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it.

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner.

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you.

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it.

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face.

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked.

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge.

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue.

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him.

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him.

“What was that?” you asked quietly.

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly.

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more.

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw.

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you.

You couldn’t be happier.

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy.

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his.

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this.

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before.

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you.

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go.

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him.

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was.

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine.

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream.

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before.

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go.

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could.

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat.

He was massive, probably a foot long.

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate.

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything.

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall.

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you.

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at.

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do.

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho.

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety.

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly.

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin.

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin.

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that.

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped.

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin.

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides.

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you.

“Please,” you asked.

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard.

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you.

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch.

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly.

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture.

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing.

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust.

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you.

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip.

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore.

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt.

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life.

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said.

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again.

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you.

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before.

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water.

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet.

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind.

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily.

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon.

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment.

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything.

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing.

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried.

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like.

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #dragon #dragon bf #The cws on this are wild #Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour #I attribute this to his accursed knight status #Definitely not just for narrative ease #I would never #also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days #Everyone say thank you ducky #lol

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dialoguestetatet · 3 months

Text

Where do they keep your picture

Under his phone case. He has a polaroid of the two of you from the amusement park. You're holding an ugly stuffed toy that he pulled out of a claw machine, and you look so gleeful, like he got you a star from the sky.

Vinny Hong, Jai Jo, Joker, Wooin, Harry Shepherd

Classic. In his wallet. Every time he takes out his wallet to pay, he sees your smiling face in the photo from your anniversary. And every time his day gets a little better and less stressful.

Sangho Choi, June, Minu, Juwon Ryu, Monster

His lockscreen. When he has a free minute, he reaches for his phone and just looks at the photo of you feeding a street cat. His friends always tease him that he's sitting with a stupid smile, staring at the phone.

Dom Kang, Owen Knight, Ryohei, Hyeok Gwon, Juhwan Jang

masterlist

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miguel-owhora · 9 days

Text

i lied. anyways, have this small steven drabble :3

"Slow- ah! - down!" Despite Steven's attempts at getting you to slow down, you did anything but. Your claws gripped his knees to his chest, his pretty plump pussy on full display, and fuck, what a view it was. It stretched nicely around your cock, the sweet wet squelch sound bouncing off around his room as you all but fucked into him.

Not that he was complaining, of course not your little Steven. You knew he was a little slut, you knew it when you first met him, could feel his pheromones teasing you, fucking slut. The thought alone has you growling, sharp teeth clenched and drooling down your dark lip as you quickened the pace—somehow.

It ripped a loud squeal from Steven, who thrashed and cried out as he squirted, and your hold on him tightened as you pressed him deeper against the bed and deepened your thrusts. Your cock pounded into his sloppy cunt, ou could feel his gummy walls clenching around your cock, silently begging for your knot. Steven babbled underneath your larger form, his curly hair sticking to his scalp as he cried, so flushed and sweaty; you leaned down to lick at his tears. It was salty.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a sharp moan when you sharply jabbed your cock against his sweet spot. He looked exhausted—maybe getting fucked by a werewolf was what he needed to have a good night's rest.

#mr. o'whora's works !#werewolf!mreader my beloved #steven grant x male reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight #x male reader #sub male character #dom male reader #monster fucker

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sp00kworm · 4 months

Text

One Word

Pairing: Enchanted Armour/Knight (Sir Jurdanus Dawling) x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, Fantasy Violence

Summary: An Enchanted Knight finds you amidst a mushroom circle and your life is never the same after.

Rain dripped down the back of your neck as you flopped onto the mossy floor. There was no way out of a mushroom circle. They were carefully laid traps, hidden behind roots and dotted in intricate patterns which made them hard to predict. Whatever Fae had hidden this one was powerful indeed. The mushrooms were like iron and the small pebbles between skipped upwards at your face when you attempted to break the circle. Your fingers were numb from trying to force them between the littler mushrooms. It was impenetrable, and eventually you would be food for the Fae who wanted to steal you away. There was some Fae that didn’t eat mortals, but those were far and few between. The only thing you could do was try and think of deals you could try to trick the creature which came to collect you. If it took them longer than a few more days, you would be dead anyway. There was an odd comfort in that. You wouldn’t be subjected to the whims of whatever the Fae decided to do with you. The other hope was someone stumbling along your path, but few would be able to taint the Fae circle enough to let you free, and you didn’t have much you could offer them anyway.

How many more hours would you last, you wondered? Defeated, you cradled your hand and sat inside the circle, massaging the tender joints as you watched the sun move overhead. It was nearly evening time, the sun was beginning to set along the horizon, threatening the sky with orange and pink. The trees rustled and birds sang their evening tunes as you picked at the pebbles around you and flicked them against the ward. The pebbles pinged back at you like a game, and for a time it was entertaining. Sodden moss wet your bottom and you tried to ignore the wetness on your backside, sitting on the moss in favour of the agony of sitting on several rocks. The old trees creaked in the wind, and you removed your satchel to look at the mushrooms and herbs you had managed to collect before getting stuck.

Suddenly, the whole woodland went quiet. No animal made a murmur as the wind continued to blow gently through the leaves. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, waving with the wind as there was a great ‘thunk’ in the distance. The heavy clunk of armour thudded along the winding path between the old, twisted trees. The blood in your limbs went cold and your heart leaped into your throat. You stood up again and watched down the old dirt path as a great, heavy suit of armour rounded the corner. The armour was maybe six and a half feet tall, and the heavy cloak fastened about the shoulders made it all the more imposing. The steel was stained with black carbon, and the details were once orange copper. The details were green in most places but the emblem in the centre of the chassis, once bright, was a Swan, swooping upwards towards the sky, its neck bowed gracefully. There was a crown around its neck, resting on the top of where its wings were spread. The Knight rounded the trees closest to you, his armour clanking before he stood, the visor fixed on you trapped in the circle of mushrooms.

“Sir!” You shouted, “Please could you help me out of this faery circle?”

The Knight tilted his head, watching you carefully as his other hand not rested on the trunk of the oak, reach for his sword. He had two on his back, strapped underneath the great fur cloak which lined his shoulders. Watching him reach for the sword you panicked and reached for your bag, attempting to find something which would prove you were not Fae.

“Please, Sir...” You rummaged, throwing the pouches of weeds and herbs you had collected before you dragged out a small iron link you had found. You clenched it between your hands and showed him your skin, “Please... I’m no Fae. I got trapped here while foraging. I promise!”

The Knight looked at the link before he thundered over, the dark metal of his armour glimmering in the setting sun. The copper detailing was sickly green, almost falling off, and his neck piece squeaked with rust as he drew the long sword from his back. He turned his stance and looked at the mushrooms before there was a rattle through the armour and his hand reached forwards to where the magical barrier lay. The barrier rippled under his hand, the magic caving like a bubble, but still resisting. With another shuddering rattle the Knight grasped his sword by the hilt and stabbed it forwards. The warding screamed as the blade burst through the magic, sending sparks flying as he heaved the iron through it, to the floor. When he reached the floor, the Knight turned the blade swiftly and severed several of the mushroom caps. The barrier faded with a hiss and just like that, you were free.

You tried not to gawp as the Knight sheathed his weapon and stood back, resting his hands on his hips. You quickly hopped out of the circle and sighed with relief as you collected your items. When you finished you looked back at the Knight.

“Thank you, Sir...” You asked, wondering what the Knight’s name was. He probably had a House Name.

The Knight shuddered inside his armour again before the joints clicked and a voice echoed inside, “Sir... Sir, S-Sir...” He couldn’t seem to say his name.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, “Sir?”

Again the voice echoed from inside, “Sir...Sir...”

You frowned softly at him before daring to reach for the visor which covered his eyes. He let you grasp the metal, subdued and quiet.

“Here let me open this so you can...” You said before tugging the visor. It remained firmly shut. With a grunt you tugged it hard. It stayed down, as though it was glued.

The pieces fell into place then, and you let your hands fall to his broad shoulders. You fisted the fur. It was well cared for but old and holes had opened in the bottom of the soft leather upper. The crest wad old, battered and stained.

“You’re cursed aren’t your?” You asked as you stood flat footed again on the woodland floor.

The Knight nodded his head and tapped the crest in the centre of his chest. There was the house crest and a small moto painted intricately underneath.

“Alte Volant”

“I’m no specialist but this is definitely noble house armour... but, well I guess I could help you, as thanks for helping me?” You offered with a shaky sigh.

The Enchanted Knight nodded, his neck squeaking a little, and offered a hand to you. You looked down and then realised he was offering to carry your bags. Carefully you gave him the larger of the two and kept your satchel.

As your bag landed in his gauntlet, the air fizzed and a blue skinned Fae stepped out from a tree, their eight eyes twitching at the sight of the broken circle. Quickly, you whipped around, but the Knight was faster. The Fae span with another hiss of fury, her hands raised, crackling with blue magic as the tree roots curled violently under the woodland floor. As she clenched her teeth, magic shot from her, and the Knight grabbed his shield from his back, the great steel plated with old iron. He dragged you behind him in a flash as the bolt clanged against the shield and dissipated like water, falling as mist f. The Fae hissed again her body morphing into the trees as she skittered around and observed you both through one great black eye.

“A suit of armour playing Knight.” She gloated, “You died a long time ago, Knight!” She hung from the tree and reached her scales fingers for his helmet, “Iron is unbecoming. Iron is cheating.”

Instead of an answer, he sliced her fingers off with a strike of his blade and pushed forwards. The Fae screamed, and you covered your ears, watching as the Knight slammed her head against his shield then again, with a downwards arch, sending the Fae flying against the floor. There was a great screech before the iron blade sliced through her neck. You jumped as blue blood spurted up the trees and shook behind a trunk as the Knight wiped his blade with a clump or moss. He looked up and reclined his head at you. Without him, you would be dead.

You took a deep breath, “Come on, let’s get out of the woods.” You beckoned him to follow you as you grabbed your bags and made your way down the path. The thump of heavy armour behind you was the only indication you had of the Knight following you.

Luckily, your home was on the outskirts of town, tucked against the woods you had just been trapped in. The stone cottage had smoke billowing out of the chimney still, so that was a good sign that the cottage would be warm still. You opened the gates and looked back at the Knight following you. He paused by the gate and stared for a moment at the small, cobbled path to your home before he stepped inside the garden and waited again. You looked at the blue blood which had stained his armour before closing the gate and leading him inside to your home. The door creaked a little as you let the hunk of armour inside and you closed it firmly before turning the key in the lock and heading to the hearth. As you stirred the hearth the Knight stood by the table looking up at the dried plants and flowers.

“Come and sit down, I don’t know of you can still feel the cold, but it’ll at least be better than standing by the door.” You waved him over before getting a damp cloth from the kitchen area for him to clean the blood off himself. Graciously he reclined his head and placed a gauntlet over his chest. He began carefully cleaning the blood from the grooves of the paint.

While he cleaned himself you placed a couple of logs onto the stirred flames and looked into the ashes. Sat at the back of the hearth was the charcoal coloured egg you had found so long ago. It was a dragon egg. Abandoned or stolen, you didn’t know, but there was life in it as it wiggled gently and soaked in the heat of the new fire. The Knight caught your gaze and peered at the wobbling egg in fascination. A disapproving grunt was his only comment.

“Yes, I know. But I couldn’t leave it to die with the Fae.” You reasoned softly as you emptied your bag onto your work surface. The Knight shook his head but continued his work.

“How about we look for your crest? I have an old history book somewhere, and it has most of the noble houses in it.” You offered.

His visor turned slightly but he made no effort to tell you he wanted to have a look. Ignoring his silence, you went to get the book.

The book was very old. Your great, great grandmother had taken it before the great collapse. Many of the old houses no longer existed, after the revolution, but a few still remained in the far reaches of the country. You wondered just how long this Knight had been wandering. With a thud you placed the book on the table and leafed through to the catalogue of old house emblems. There were around a hundred, and you took a breath before beginning to scan for the old, battered coat of arms which was printed onto his chest plate. A swan in flight. It was a regal link. The Knight had maybe been close to the Queen before the collapse and that was many years ago. He could have been cursed a long time.

“Edelwyn… nope that’s a tree. Oakenfast… no that’s an acorn. Unicorn… a hare. That’s a peacock…” You turned the pages as the Knight creaked next to the fire, warming the leathers of his skirts before he began to brush the dirt from his cape with a hard brush. His weapons were next and you watched him for a moment as he pulled out carefully stored oils and cloths and began to meticulously clean the Fae blood from the iron. A few more pages revealed nothing until a crown appeared.

“Well, we might be down the right track, Sir!” You cheered as you reached for the kettle and filled it from a pail of water. Once it was over the fire you fetched the book and sat in the other chair on the large, overstuffed pillows. You looked at the crest on his chest again and hummed, flicking between three pages before you found it.

“Dawling!” You cried out as you hopped out of the chair and showed the Knight the book. The crest on his chest was penned beautifully with inks of good quality. You beamed at his helmet as you pointed at the crowned swan.

With a faint creak of metal, the knight reached up to take the book from your outstretched hands. There was the faint sound of wheezing breathing through the visor of his helmet as he touched the page with the crest and then carefully, like he was caressing a baby bird, traced the letters of his family name.

“Dawling was the closest family to the Queen.” You told him quietly, “Before the revolution the Dawling family were the last near her and all of them were said to have perished when they burned the castle in the North.”

With a soft nod he looked over the small descriptive notes, his armour flexing gently with tension.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth…” You offered a gentle hand to him.

He said nothing but you watched him reach up, his fingers twitching. The metal of his gauntlets was cold against your skin but smooth and well looked after. Warmth enveloped his fingers from your skin and the Knight peered up at you. His visor was shined and as he put the book down you saw a faint glow behind the slats. Behind the metal there were two haunting eyes. The blue eyes glimmered before disappearing again into the darkness of the armour. Wisps of light trailed out of his neck.

“Would you like anything?” You asked as you patted his hand.

The knight shook his head as he looked back at the dancing flames.

“I suppose now I have to call you Sir Dawling!” You joked as you let go of his hand, “I wonder who put this curse on you though…I suppose we will never know now, but you can stay here a while if you like?” You offered.

Sir Dawling turned to look at you and nodded his confirmation, the flames reflecting patterns over his armour.

“I’ll make you the spare room up then.” With a smile you went to collect some linens but you were stopped by Dawling standing by the fire shaking his head, pointing to the sunset in the sky. With a confused stare you followed him towards the door and watched as he stood by the door, collecting his weapons.

“Can you not sleep?” You asked as he packed his weapons. He shook his head again and then made the shape of a butterfly which his armoured hands. When that didn’t work, he pointed to the blue blood which remained on his shield.

“The Fae? I doubt they would come this far out of the woods and beside they can’t get in here without invitation.” You soothed, but Sir Dawling shook his head and insisted, opening the door. He closed it behind him, his leathers squeaking a little as he sat outside the door on a small log. You looked through the glass of the window as he took his whetstone out and continued to work his blades. It seemed as though he was to stand guard. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep? He was after all, cursed. With a sigh you went to the fire and decided to make dinner, pondering on the curses which could have been cast over him before the revolution truly took root in the country. You stoked the fire gently around the dragon egg still nested in the coals. There was an answer to the riddle that you could not see.

A few hours later, after reading numerous books on the subject of magics, you hadn’t found many answers. The key to the Knight’s curse probably laid in the type of magic used to curse him. With more questions than answers you stood from the fire, wrapped tight in a blanket, and took the spare to the door. Quietly you listened behind the wood. Sir Dawling’s armour creaked with the phantom movements of his breathing and quietly the thud of his metal finger against his thigh. Quietly, you opened the door. His helmet turned to face you immediately. Dawling made a shooing motion with his fingers, beckoning you to head back inside. You stepped out onto the stone step and smiled at him before offering him the heavy woollen blanket. You could see he was eyeing the red dyed wool, but instead of giving him a choice you thrust it over his lap and smiled. Carefully, he unfolded the fabric and laid it over his thighs.

“You don’t have to stay out here you know… I feel bad with you out here protecting me and helping me again.” You sighed and rubbed at your shoulders against the cold.

Sir Dawling held his hand up and shook his head, as though it was no trouble at all for him.

“But still… there has to be something I can do?” You asked, “Or maybe give you? I don’t want you out here all night bored…”

Again, Sir Dawling shook his head and you sighed at his protest.

“Fine but please, come back inside if you’re cold or anything. I’ll keep the fire on for the little one anyway.” You joked.

He shook his head at the idea of the dragon egg again and fixed his gaze on the moon and the stars above. You left him there, gazing up at the night sky, and went to bed.

For fourteen nights, Sir Dawling sat outside your cottage. Reluctantly, throughout the day you let him follow you too and from your jobs in town. You didn’t have a particular profession, but you had a lot of room for foraging and several of the plants on your property were useful to the locals. Alongside a bountiful variety of mushrooms there were several herbs like mint and rosemary which were used in salves. Sir Dawling watched the exchanges carefully, wary of the townsfolk who were wary of him. The people asked after him curiously, but most of the people in the town were far too familiar with the workings of the Fae in the woodlands. Once you explained a few of them were even sympathetic towards the poor Knight, though the others knew that a crest meant he was once someone of an important station. Not many looked on the Queen or her Court favourably out in the woods. Still, no one had said anything, yet. Sir Dawling followed behind you, his tattered cloak billowing, and his swords an obvious statement of prowess. He didn’t need to draw them for people to know he was a killer.

“Are you going to sit out here again?” You asked on the fifteenth night as you gave him a clean blanket.

Sir Dawling shrugged his shoulders, and as always, he didn’t reply.

“Well would you like a fire? I don’t know if you can feel cold but I got a little cast iron fire pit while I was out in town today!” You pointed to the edge of the small vegetable patch where the iron pit was located.

With a creak, Sir Dawling stood up, his armour clanking as he reached the fire pit and then bent over in order to drag it closer to the door. He reached for a log from the stack you had down the side of the house, but you had already beaten the Knight to it.

“Here.” You smiled and watched him take the log before you went inside to fetch some kindling and a small scoop of hot coals from the fire inside, “You know, the egg is really close to hatching I think.”

Sir Dawling shook his head at the mention of the egg you had pilfered inside of your home.

“I know you think I’m silly for keeping it…” You said as you handed the Dawling the kindling, “But I couldn’t stand the idea of a poacher getting it! That or the Fae. I just wanted to see if I could save it.”

A long wheezing sigh echoed from the chamber of Sir Dawling’s armour as he took the hot coals from your hands and carefully poured the scoop under the kindling. The twigs quickly caught fire with a few fans of his hands. Gently, he handed you the fire scoop back to take back inside and you did so before returning, running with your oven gloves on, with the dragon egg in hand. The egg gave another shake and a creak as you ran for the fire pit outside.

“SIR DAWLING! FAN THE FLAMES QUICK!” You screeched.

Sir Dawling took the fan from your pocket and fanned the flames as high as he could get them as you rolled the egg gently into the fire. The charcoaled shell cracked with the smoking wood, and you gazed at it in amazement as fiery lines erupted over the surface. The red patterns intertwined with one another, weaving an intricate image over the shell before a small, horned nose butted a chip in the shell. Sir Dawling leaned close enough to watch the egg shake and a small nose batter at the shell again. The flames licked the surface, like a caressing mother, and you dropped the oven gloves in favour of squatting by the pit.

The iron base glowed with the heat as another great creak sounded and a spiked tail flopped into the wood. The wood spat at you as claws raked at the thick calcium, gouging freedom from the egg. Horns prickled the egg and soon a small, growl sounded from the flames. A small, jade green dragon curled in the fire, grumbling in the fire, its tail poised high, and its neck flared defensively. It hissed and spat a small flame. With a firm hand, Sir Dawling removed the fire poker and watched as the dragonling growled, its sharp, ravenous teeth flashing. You looked at the jewelled creature in awe before sitting by the side of the fire and replacing your oven mittens. The dragon spat, its horned prickled in your direction, but you reached gently to move the eggshell out of the fire. Dawling’s helmet shifted to you, watching as you reached into the coals again and then placed the meat you were going to cook into the embers. The dragon grumbled, lowly, like a cat, but quickly turned its slitted pupils on the meat. Its eyes were a glorious orange, like amber. Carefully, its claws hooked the food, and you delighted quietly as it took the food and began chewing at the chicken leg.

“I know…” You whispered at Dawling as he looked to reach for the poker again, “Its stupid to try, but I think I can do this. Its such a beautiful creature.”

With another echoing sigh, Dawling nodded and watched you feed the dragon.

Another leg of a chicken had the small dragon clawing at the edge of the fire pit, its head raised, looking up at you with a gentle rumble. The scales down its neck glittered in the fire light like gems. The dragon was beautiful. Carefully you dared to let the hatchling sniff your hand. The dragon rumbled, sniffed and then carefully pushed its head up into your hand. Underneath its chin, as it raise its head, there was the glittering of a bright, pearl coloured scale, round and fat like a heavy gemstone. It glittered before the hatchling ducked its head again and growled, hopping out of the fire to curl around your legs. The dragon peered up at Sir Dawling from between your legs, and cocked its head, wondering about the suit of armour which clunked in its seat.

“He’s cursed.” You offered down at the dragon, “He did something in his previous life which upset a great sorceress, so she made him like this.” You smiled at Sir Dawling, offering him your hand and a comforting squeeze. His gauntlets creaked with the squeeze, but you smiled at him and then offered the dragon your hand as well.

“Wait… how do I tell if it’s a male or female…” You whispered as you turned back towards the house. The dragon followed dutifully, swinging its tail like a happy kitten as you both slipped through the door.

“How do you like Frasadu?” You asked the dragon. It chirped in response, “So maybe you are a boy…”

Sir Dawling shifted on the log outside, touching the crest on his chest as he watched you go inside, feeling an odd ache where once his chest was. The Knight shook his head, moaning inside the armour as he reached for the poker by the fire.

There was a disgusting sound, like two pieces of metal grinding metal together, which woke you up. With a scream, you shot out of bed, just as there was a great slam against the heavy stone wall of your home. You heard the sing of iron outside, indicating Sir Dawling had drawn his sword. The dragon by the fire stirred, and opened his mouth, his teeth lighting with fire. You rushed to the door, grabbing a dagger before you opened it. Frasadu howled at outside, and you froze by the door as Dawling’s sword sliced through the first fae who dared to get too close. With a rush of odd light, his gauntlet slammed through the chest of another, and you stood, clutching at the iron dagger as the bottom wall of the garden exploded into rubble. A great insect like beast crawled over the stones, its mouth parts slicing against one another again to make the awful noise.

“DAWLING!” You screamed as the insect beast slammed a great, needle like leg down towards him. The Knight rolled and sliced upwards, severing one of the monster’s legs before he made a quick roll back towards you. He held his hand up and you watched as Frasadu roared, flaring his wings before he shot a great ball of explosive fire at the insect. The beast screeched and reared before its abdomen set ablaze, and it sprinted for the trees, howling.

The fae watched their monster run and hissed, their black eyes glinting like oil slick in the fire. A few of them slunk behind the logs and rubbles of your walls, watching as you reached to touch the top of Frasadu’s head. There was a brief moment of silence amidst the crackling rubble, both parties staring at one another. Dawling flicked the blood from his great sword and turned the flat of the blade upwards at the slinking faeries.

“You have dragon lord blood.” A great tall Fae slunk from the rubble, her white hair was braided intricately around her head, holding poisonous thorns and dried hawthorn leaves. Gossamer wings fluttered behind her, placing her before you gracefully. Her face was narrow, impossibly thin in all dimensions, and her skin glittered green with a shine of iridescence. Black eyes bore holes in Sir Dawling as he stepped between the two of you.

“Silence Knight.” She scoffed. Her clawed fingers gripped into a fist and you felt the metallic scream of Sir Dawling as he was thrown in the air, writhing, his armour denting and groaning in on itself, “The incessant smell of your shame bores me.” The Fae spat, “You were cursed for it, and so you will end with it, curled in a ball of molten rotting metal.”

“Wait!” You begged, holding your hands out as you rushed in front of Dawling. He howled above you as his gauntlets were peeled open, each joint pulling outwards from his body. His arms buckled as you stared down the Fae.

“He is protecting me. He saved me…and I have looked after him. He does not deserve this…” You asked of her, “Please, leave him be.”

“I, Ushura, Lady of Glowing Stars, will not let the Fae Slayer live.” Ushura screamed, her fingers gripping the metal, tearing at it with the familiar glow of blue magic. It was the same colour that glowed inside of Sir Dawling’s armour from time to time.

“Please, my lady.” You begged, “What can be done to repay this sin?” You asked.

Ushura spat her disdain at your feet, “Your Queen has long since died. She was the one who asked it of him, but he was the one who carried it out, burning our burrows, slaughtering our children in their nests!” Fury burned in her veins, the weight of a thousand lives, her people, heavy on her shoulders.

“He suffers still for his slight, my lady, but please, let him live.” You asked, “I do not know what I am or who I am to you, yet, but I can only try and make things right.”

Ushura held Sir Dawling aloft, but the crushing of his armour halted, as did his howling. You watched her black eyes soften a little at the edges as she looked at the small hatchling at your side.

“Misee wi. Forni talmas, ui porteh alme.” She spoke gently, watching as the dragon at your side listened, his ear turned to her. The hatchling dipped his head and turned, his head stretched upwards, revealing the pearl beneath his neck. It was strangely, like you knew what to do, and you reached out carefully to touch the pearl. Frasadu hummed against you, and there was a great spark of white, brilliant light. You heard the Fae recoil and hide behind the rubble. There was an unending ringing in your ears before the light dimmed enough to reveal a great shape before you. All the sights and sounds of your ruined home disappeared behind the great shadow. Two wings spread out, shadowing beyond you, far into the corners of your field of vision, and you gasped at the silhouette of the dragon before you.

“Long have I awaited the return of a Dragon Lord. You are the last. The last of the line of glory, of brotherhood and blood ties beyond that of this continent. Frasadu was not a name you came up with, but it has rather always been my name, little one. Together, we are to restore what is broken, to mend the broken reaches of the world. We are destined to be, as your Knight is destined to follow you. Tell them, in the old tongue. As one we once were, and as one we are once again.”

The light receded as quickly as it had appeared and when you could see again you looked at your fingertips touching Frasadu’s chin. The dragon’s orange eyes reflected wisdom of thousands of years, and you smiled as you cradled his chin. With a resolute breath, you turned back to Ushura.

“Ret yue fristra, ret yue gugartha ne.” You told the fae.

“Then as one you must all remain.” She hissed. Her claws unravelled, dropping Sir Dawling from her grasp. The knight landed with a great crash, armour clattering against stone. You tried not to turn, holding the gaze of the Fae as Frasadu puffed his chest out before you, spreading his wings out in a threatening display.

“You must not return here.” You told the Fae, “Sir Dawling is to remain with me.”

Slowly, the Fae disappeared back into the trees, their eyes merging with the shadows as the firelight flickered far from view. You watched them for a moment before rushing to Dawling’s side. The armour laid motionless, laid in dented chunks.

“Please don’t be gone.” You begged quietly as you turned his helmet and desperately tried to place him back together.

There was a groan from somewhere within all the scattered metal and you found a twitching gauntlet in time to hold Sir Dawling’s hand. The metal armour groaned as you took his hand and tears burned in your eyes. You felt the wet drops on your cheeks as Frasadu growled and dragged a crushed greave over by your side.

“I don’t know how to fix this!” You told the hatchling, and the knight who’s head was laid in your lap.

The helmet visor clicked open with a sudden screech of metal. Your tears dripped inside the shell only to see the faint wisps of soul slowly swirling inside. The gauntlet by your feet twitched before it began to float, the dent groaning as the leather gloves stretched. You sobbed as you watched it float, the fingers reaching for you. The tips caressed the apples of your cheeks, slowly shifting downwards before they gave a gentle twitch. The chest plates expanded with a groan.

“Dragon… Lord.” Sir Dawling wheezed, his armour shaking, grinding along the floor as it attempted to fuse back together. You clawed at the pieces, pulling them together as your tears dripped down the once beautifully intricate metal work.

“Can we fix him?” Frasadu rumbled innocently. He sat next to you, his scales against your leg, “His soul is still here.”

“I don’t know how to fix this Dawling…” You wept on the armour with a thundering sob.

“Jurdanus…” Dawling wheezed, “Jurdanus… Dawling.”

“Jurdanus, please, Sir Dawling, I can’t…” You stuttered as you finally placed the rest of the armour together.

The knight gave one final, heaving breath, before the light dimmed behind his visor and the metal went slack against the stone. The fire continued to crackle behind you, dulling the sensation of reality for a moment before you placed your hands on Frasadu wept onto his scales. Sir Jurdanus Dawling didn’t move. The fires crackled as you held Frasadu close, and you looked to the stars in the night sky above. All was quiet, for a moment, before there was a gentle whoosh, like gas being lit. Frasadu grumbled, shifting in your grasp, stretching to look at the armour as a soft blue wisp drifted down towards you both. Amidst the fire you watched the light swift before it formed the shape of a large man. The silhouette drifted closer, and a hand reached to touch your cheek, tracing the same pattern Sir Dawling had drawn.

“Jurdanus?” You asked, hopefully.

The silhouette nodded before spreading its arms and laying backwards. The light disappeared back into the armour. A great whoosh sounded again before the ruined armour before you clanged, shifted, and banged, rumbling violently as it once again took on the perfect shape of a suited knight.

The light behind the visor glowed once more and with a delighted shriek you jumped over Sir Dawling’s hips, delightedly shaking his shoulders as he reached up to steady you by the waist.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” You wiped the tears from your face, sniffling.

Jurdanus nodded his head and reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Tenderly, he cupped your face, and there was a whisper of thanks on the wind, although no voice echoed from within the armour. You smiled and howled with laughter as Jurdanus sat up and dragged you with him, holding you close to his chest as he span through the garden, with Frasadu hot on his heels.

#enchanted armour #monster x reader #enchanted armour x reader #enchanted knight #enchanted knight x reader #reader insert #original work #original works #fantasy writing #fantasy #knight #sir jurdanus dawling #monster boyfriend x reader #fantasy romance #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 1 year

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Demon Knight: Odel

[I plan on making a part 2, I just needed to write something, to begin with!]

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Part 1 | Part 2

Ad Laetitiam et Pacem

“It is set in ink. I will not hear anymore else of it,” your father, the King declared. “You will marry Lord Meriweather’s son by the arrival of spring.”

Perhaps in the hopes of pleasing your father, you would have heeded to words, to remain dutiful as princess of the realm and make your family proud.

That same night when you heard of your fate, you prepared to dress comfortably in a washerwoman’s ensemble, before slipping out the high window.

To hell with the arrangement, I would rather live a life of celibacy. This fate will not ruin my life.

The third daughter out of six and the eighth out of eleven living children, you had many brothers and sisters older that would be set for better matches from well-known lords and ladies. Yet, you were not put to become queen or to be married off to a wealthy lord, you were assigned to marry a minor lordling, his youngest son feeble and health ailing.

Of all the four sons of Lord Meriweather’s brood, you had to be matched with one with no proper destiny. Hugh was sickly and frail, not a knight or the heir to his father’s land, he was predestined to nothingness, and upon your first meeting with him, you snidely advised he was better suited to abstinence than to displeasing his future wife.

To your dissatisfaction, it had to be you that would be disappointed.

The moonlight acted as your only guide as you run blindly through the streets of the capital. Dead of life with only a few patrolling, you were able to squeeze into dark shadows, ducking and weaving before you found yourself on the outskirts of the capital. Its high, towering walls were manned, but you covered your face with your hood, ducking your head as you run out, away from the life you knew.

The adrenaline pumped swiftly in your chest, and a sense of freedom was overwhelming as the smile broadened on your face, racing your body as fast as you could through the woods.

Months of planning had come underway, and the only place you knew would be deserted; was Whitehaven Hold.

Your other option could’ve been to stay with your older sister, Alinor. Eight years your senior, she was married at eight-and-ten to a well-known and comely lord, giving him babes a year into their marriage.

Father will know I will go to her. You knew it would be a rooky mistake. He knew how much you loved your sister, how you missed her dearly after she was sent away to live the rest of her days in someone else’s castle.

Your older brother, Cassius was four-and-twenty, acting as a scholar in the south, but they did not accept women to the life of academics. No, it would’ve been harder to dress as a man to be accepted into his school.

It was a day or two away, and you spent your nights by a fire, rummaging for food and keeping what stale biscuits you hid in your dress pockets. You lay, wide awake, with no knowledge of where exactly you could go next.

The morning came easily when you arrived at the sight, a smouldering heat and smoke billowing from the mess in front of you.

Whitehaven Hold was a twisted, horrid sight. The battlements for a two-hundred-year war, its walls were burnt and destroyed, the stone had crumpled as it burnt and melted like candles, thousands burning inside. It acts as a haunted sight for travellers, with no Lord or Lady sane enough to reside there.

You entered through the battered doors, cold and damp easily enveloped you as you shuddered, looking around. It had been quickly looted of items by travellers, with not a sight of heirlooms or gold in sight. What remained was tattered and worn furniture, rooms dark and clammy and all the very same.

I’m not staying here before I lose my mind. You thought in disgust, but the thought of residing brought you to chuckle. The Lady of Whitehaven Hold- imagine the look on father’s face. It would not be good to stay a day or two before the cold enters your system and bring the chill quickly. It ached in your chest, not knowing where you could go next. South, always south. Away from it all.

The rooms were simple and easy to roam, a large, broken dining hall, fit for a Lord, wife and many heirs, its kitchen located on the far side. The table was battered and disarrayed, little to nothing scattered that remained of contents of food and dirt. You continued, walking past the cold entrance, up towards what remained of the grand staircase.

Spotting at the very top, are three displays of suits of armour, posing in similar positions. Their hands were positioned to have a greatsword in their hands, but only one remained in the grasp, the one in the middle.

You observed its armour, shinier and similar to molten black obsidian, it gleamed as if recently polished. You flicked your finger across the armour, its armour hummed low as you dragged across its armour to inspect for dirt.

“Hmph, just as I thought. A collectable.” You scoffed, wiping the grime from your finger as you stared up into its helm. The helmet was a beautiful display, gleaming in brilliance, except when you looked into the eyeless sockets of its eyes, something was not supposed to be there.

Eyes staring back. Alit with burning, enraged flames.

“There is little of me that I would class as a collectable,” a low, rumbling voice boomed, startling you rigid. You stepped back, towards the staircase, watching in horror. The talon-like fingers twitched momentarily, before another jolted with life, the whole hand was soon moving with existence.

The suit of armour slowly and lazily tested its movements, its long leg swung forward, groaning and choking as the armour moved. His fiery stare was towards you, raging with anger. “You are not meant to be here. You are trespassing.”

“No one lives here.”

“The Lord of Whitehaven Hold resides here, and I must protect my Lord from all.”

To your surprise, his fingers jerked to grip the hilt of his deadly sword tighter, a flash of silver startled you as he unsheathed the mighty weapon, before you were staggering, sprinting back down the stairs, hearing the squeaks of worn armour following hotly behind.

Leaving through the front door was an easier move, but with adrenaline pumping quickly in your chest. You stumbled and fell, your body kicking to keep moving, to hide, to do anything to get away from the deadly sword.

Something swung just behind you, a scream bubbling over you as his sword got caught into the wall, clinging with a hiss as it hit the wall and avoid taking a chunk out of you. You continued to run, in hopes you could find anywhere to hide, but no matter, the knight was hot on your tail.

You swept around the table, the knight rounding the other side, eyes flaming with the sword ready to swing before something caught his eye, something behind you. His sword lowered as he took in the damaged painting behind you, and you too turned to see what it was he was looking over.

The painting was of no doubt, the old Lord of Whitehaven Hold, yet he had been the first and last during the two-hundred-year war, murdered by conspirators who took over his castle after their coup.

There was a sadness that filled the knight’s eyes, lowering his sword, his entire demeanour changed to become defeated. “He’s gone?” His voice was gravelly and soft.

“He was murdered two-hundred years ago,” you spoke carefully, still gazing periodically towards the silver of his large sword. “There has not been another lord of this Hold since.”

The knight did not answer for a moment, looking at the painting with a solemn gaze that was so vivid without seeing the rest of his face. “Oh,” was the only word he spoke, before he sheathed his sword, marching back and away from the hall, back up towards the stairs.

“Hey, where are you going?” You stared in disbelief, uneasily tailing behind him a few feet. You watched how he climbed the stairs stiffly, moving back towards his display.

“I am no longer needed,” he spoke quietly. “I am free from my pact.”

“Pact from what?”

“The pact grants anyone who rules this hold the protection and my sword.” He moved towards to set himself in his display once more, propping the sword out to rest between his hands once more. You were by the bottom of the stairs, cautiously standing there. “I am no longer needed.”

Your cheeks heated the same way a child would grow in a tantrum. “Well, what if I became the next resident?”

His eyes peered over you, wide and in incredulously. “You’re a mere washerwoman.”

You remembered your clothing, the ones you snuck out in, and you knew you had no way of making him believe you. “Would you believe me if I said I was a Princess—and runaway one?”

He scoffed light-heartedly. “You’re rather funny, aren’t you?”

“I am!” You insisted. “My father is the current King, Cassius XV. My oldest brother is Crown Prince Isolde. My mother, Queen Adora, was forty when she passed, giving birth to my youngest sister, Margarita.” You told him your name, the one you despised using.

He did not answer once again, yet he seemed amused. “Anyone could know that of the current rulers.”

“I can read that,” you pointed towards the small display name, written in the old language of Ald, passed down to royalty and nobles to keep alive. “Would a washerwoman know about the culture and language of Ald? Would a washerwoman even know how to read?”

“Maybe so,” he assessed warily. “What is a princess like yourself doing out here?”

“My father wished to have me married off.”

He inquired amusedly. “You ran away from your betrothal? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing before.”

“You don’t know many princesses.” You muttered.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “It is known many Princesses of the past have been fond of comely knights and princes from far lands. It would be their dream to be married off.”

“Hugh Meriweather looks more weasel than man.”

The knight looked perplexed, but he did chuckle at your words. “Weasel, you say? I’m unsure there is some tale of a Princess and a weasel.”

Fairy tales are nightmares in reality. Just stories to keep girls happy. You thought. “It isn’t some fairy tale. I have no say in who I can love.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “That is why I’m here. Running away from the fate destined for me; misery, squeezing out babes and dying from childbed fever. You wouldn’t have to worry about being wedded off, you’re just a piece of talking armour.”

The silence that followed your passing words made you realise that you may have overstepped. You peered over at him, and though his face was shielded, you could tell your words had insulted him.

“You’re talking to a piece of talking armour.” He jeered and your cheeks had rouged once more in embarrassment. “What then, little Princess? You believe your father would not find you here?”

“He can sure try to.” You huffed. “I will not leave here.”

If he had eyebrows, you could be sure he had a face of exasperation. “You think you’ll have protection here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re here.”

“I’m free from my pact, however.” He recalled.

“What about forming a pact with me? It can’t be that bad.” You said excitedly, too naively to think anything of it. You’ve had knights in service of protecting you your entire life: how different could this be?

“Princess,” his voice was laced with unease. “If you go ahead with this, you will need to sacrifice something of your life.”

Your silence was a tell-tell sign that you were uncertain. Sacrifice something, like what? You thought about the things you had to you: you had no titles to own, no claim to the throne, so you couldn’t give that up (you doubted you would’ve if you did own one). It seemed like an easy deal, yet nothing came to mind for you to give in return, until—

“I shall give you my hand in marriage.”

The knight recoiled almost as if he had been burnt in his ink-black armour, his demeanour changed to seem hesitant, almost incredulous to your offer. “What about Hugh the weasel? You don’t think I’m a married man already?” He asked.

“You wouldn’t be here if you were already married now, would you? You would be with your lady wife.”

He seemed pleased by your words, stepping forth towards you, around the table, before he was standing in front of you. His full height towered easily over you, and you imagined what he looked like without the helmet on him.

“I, swear by my name and honour, to protect and keep you in my stay, for as long as you may live. I am yours, Princess," he says. "I will shield your back and give you my life in the moment of need.”

You easily presented your hand to him to take into his, there was warmth oddly in his armoured fingers, and his obsidian suit of armour hummed and almost felt as if it was burning up on the inside before the knight brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.

“Arise, sir-“

“Odel. Sir Odel.”

#demon #demon oc #demon boyfriend #demon knight #princess reader #female reader #monster writing #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #demon monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster lover

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aoiveae-monsters · 6 months

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HALLOWEEN WITH THE MONSTERS!

Including Mothman, Dullahan, Yautja and Khonshu

Edid: Finally a real note. Just a Post of my beloved silly skrunkles. Also for Khonshu's part I used witch reader from the headcanons I wrote for him before because I just felt like it.

Mothman

- He has seen humans celebrate halloween before but didn't quite understand it, always wonderd why humans tried to mimic other monsters.

-Once you properly explain it to him, and talk about free food- he's hooked. His antenna stand straight and he goes to put on a white blanket to go as a ghost Trick or Treating.

-He could already go without a costume but he looks so cute and happy in his little white robe, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him.

-You go around everywhere and he does the most adorable chirb when he says "Trick or Treat", almost everyone gives him extra candy because it's that cute. The sweet old Lady next door gave him a full bucket of candy and his antenna did a cute little wiggle.

-He munches himself into a sugar rush with all the candy he eats. Also he hand feeds you candy. Still in his costume too. By end of it all you got a chonky moth in a ghost costume, happily purring as you rub his belly.

Dullahan

-Come on, Halloween is one of his fav times of the year. He get's to walk around freely, get candy and scare people shitless! He even made you a matching outfit to his.

-You'll both be riding on his steed, scaring unasuming mortals. Sapphire Flames erupting as he let's out a wicked laugh, terrifying anyone he sees.

-Sometimes he'll put his head somewhere for a person to pick up and then igniting his eye sockets, giving the poor someone a heart attack.

-Other than that he'll gallop the streets with you, drawing the attention of other halloween goers, drinking up all the praise he get's for his "costume". Will do tricks like taking his head off in front of everyone. Let's the children even play with with, creating dancing figures with his flames.

-In the rare event he meets another Dullahan, he'll talk for ages with them and do some duo pranks. The horses will just chill with you, judging their riders.

-Like a real Gentleman he comes back with his head filled to the brim with the candy, all for you. He won't answer any questions about how he got it...

Yautja

-It was suprisingly easy to get your mate to celebrate halloween. He's mostly excited to adorn you in the bones of the beasts he hunted.

-He's purring the entire time you put on your costume, the skull of a xenomorph being your mask.

-He himself puts on something, some giant jagged bones. Sharpening his claws and showing off his face. You two will have all the eyes on you.

-If you wanted candy however, you could have simply asked him to get you some, your mate loves to spoil you, but if Trick or Treating is what you want than you shall have it. He can never say no to you.

-With him by your side, you get aalllll candy. After getting the sweets going to horror maze is a MUST. He doesn't get scared but he puffs up with pride whenever you get spooked and cling to him.

-Lowkey he scares the workers there. Some other people there think he works there and fan over him.

-By the end of it all you turned him into a halloween fan, he cannot wait for next year, but before the night ends there is one last thing you two need to do...going on a hunt!

Khonshu

-The God of the Moon wasn't too interested in your mortal holiday. Yet somehow, you managed to convince him to go with you, manifesting him in a corporeal form. So that's why you asked him to teach you the magic to invoke entities...

-But you did go through all the hard work to summom him into the material plane, he can't bring himself to say no to his favorite human. And it has been centuries since he last walked the earth with mortals.

-Okay fine, you did it, you got your oh so great and benevolent god to acompany you during this wicked night. Steve and Marc are beyond impressed with your skill to make Khonshu do anything you want.

-Surprisingly enough though, you didn't have to say anything about Khonshu needing a new look, all his idea. After all, the god has decided that since he'll walk among mortals after so many years, he might as well dress for the occasion.

-Pale bandages and golden crescent moons get replaced with black robes that shine like the stars and are adorned with blood red moons. He looks a little like a Vampire.

-Old Birb Man mantifests some fangs after you said that, threatening to take a sip out of you.

-He even dresses you up himself, whatever costume you had before will be changed to make you look worthy to be a god's consort. All will look upon you with awe. Only the best for his beloved star.

-You walk the streets together, the witch and their terrifying patron drawing the eyes and adoration of everyone.

-Daddy Khonshu decides to go even extra and cause a Blood Moon, with a jack'o-latern face filling the celestial body.

-He puffs up when people compliment him, ah yes, how he missed the worship of mortals. Hand feed him the candy you got and he'll coo about how a perfect human you are, his best accolyte. That's how you find out about Khonshu's massive sweet tooth

-However manifesting Khonshu for so long takes it's toll on you, invoking a deity upon the material plane is quite a lot of work. Khonshu already plans to reward you plenty for not only for letting him walk among the earth again but also feel the joy of halloween.

-The night ends with you getting usherd to bed, face lovingly carresed before Khonshu dematerializes.

-While all gaze upon a grinning blood moon.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #terato #monsterxhuman #mothman x reader #yautja x reader #khonshu x reader #Dullahan x reader #my writing #gender neutral reader #predator #moon knight x reader #moon kight

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oddballwriter · 20 days

Text

Y/N's Monster

Summary: Tired of rude, vulgar, and not-up-to-snuff guys, you decide to make a man of your own. Is it a crime against God? Probably. But you've already stitched him together so there's no going back now. At least he's cute.

Warnings: Straight-up medical malpractice and other such things, it's for the plot. It's a Frankenstein inspired story so there's talk of stitching limbs onto other limbs and methods that do not work in real life. You can not stitch together and bring to life your own boyfriend in real life, I'm sorry ladies :(.

Author’s Snip: Here's that Frankenstein's Monster Marc I promised! I hope you all like it. Onwards to the Lost Boys au I semi-promised! Yippee! I'm feeding the monster fuckers.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 702

Tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spicydonut25 @steven-grants-world @homuraak3mi (You too can join the tag list! Just ask)

Seeing him now, actually up and moving, you were absolutely amazed. Both because the fact that the abandoned defibrillator and old shock therapy machine you stole got from the hospital you work for that you tinkered together actually worked in bringing a stitched-together corpse to life, and also by the fact that he looks so good.

For being a reanimated corpse made out of various John Does, he looks amazing. He was a good height, his body was proportionate where you had to add better fresher parts, and actually looked pretty alright.

It's not until he starts bumbling around that you stop ogling at him. He looks confused, maybe a bit scared.

"Hey," you say gently to not spook him, "You're okay," you tell him. He looks toward you, having heard you. Okay good, he can hear and see. "It's okay," you whisper trying to comfort him. He still looks slightly scared. He backs up when you try and walk toward him, but it's apparent that his limbs aren't ready for all the moving around so he trips and falls. "Oh no," you mutter to yourself as you rush towards him to try and help him up.

"Hey. I won't hurt you." you explain. But when he looks at you again you are hit with the possibility that he might not understand. After all, in the book, Frankenstein's creation didn't when he was brought to life.

You look to your creation and take a moment to think about what to do. "Understand?" is what you manage to think up. "Do you understand me?" you rephrase your question. He stares at you for a bit. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" you ask again. When he slowly nods you have to repress a scream of happiness to not scare him. You just let a smile cross your face,

"Okay. That's good." you reply. "So how about I help you back up and you have a seat." you suggest, "It seems like your body isn't ready to move around just yet." you point out.

You gently help him up and sit down on the gurney that you also stole got along with grabbing a sheet to wrap around him so that he can have some decency. You give your creation a quick check-up. Nothing seems to be wrong with him say for having slightly bloodshot eyes and he's a bit pale. He has natural reflexes like his knee kicking when it's hit with the little hammer, his pupils contract and dilate, and he can even feel pain.

As an extra precaution, you bandage up the places where his stitches would experience the most stress so they don't pop since stitching him up isn't an option, both because you don't have anything for anesthesia and you have no idea what it will do to him.

"Can you speak?" you ask as you finish up the last stitched area. He seems to think about it and then focus. You can see him trying to form a word with his mouth and managing to say "No...", but it clearly takes a lot to get it all down. You nod, "Okay." you reply. "Alright, how about we just do yes or no questions?".

After a while of asking questions to see where he is mind-wise, you start getting to harder to answer questions.

"Do you remember anything, from before waking up here?" you ask. He shakes his head.

"Do you know who you are?"... he shakes his head again.

"Do you have a name?" ... also no.

You hum. "Well, then I guess I have to give you one." you say. You think for a long time, mentally crossing off names that were too ridiculous or didn't fit his look. Something with an M.

"Marc." you say, "With a C at the end." you clarify. "I like that name. How about you?" you ask your creation. He just nods, but you swear there's a fraction of a smile for a second.

You're not sure how this will go moving forward now that you've got a man who's made from other men who doesn't have any background or identity, but this is a good start if you'd say so yourself.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #monster au

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im-his-druidess · 5 months

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Dead By Daylight

The Knight (Tarhos Kovàcs)

The Shape (Michael Myers )

The Executioner (Pyramid Head )

The Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

The Ghost Face (Danny "Jed" Olsen)

The Oni (Kazan Yamaoka)

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

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monstercampus · 8 months

Note

tell us abt the cursed knight plssss….. i need it <3

Oho! You'd like to know? 💕💕 ofc!

The Cursed Knight - First Meeting

(cws: violence, unnamed character deaths, implied self-pleasure)

The forbidden section of the library holds a vast array of strange tomes, both that belong to various staff members and kept there for safekeeping, as well as a large collection that have been procured on the Dean's behalf as part of a special project. He and his patron consider themselves book rescuers.....but not in the way humans would imagine, in which the texts are simply rare or expensive or they hold some kind of nostalgic value to the Dean. What they don't know is that some books, some very special books, house what can only be described as ancient, arcane portals within them; not for the use of transportation or viewing into another area of the world, but rather they're doorways into realms that don't exist on the same plane as the world at large. The stories contained within aren't just stories, the inked words bind that other world to the artifact and allow it to exist within the pages.....so long as it isn't destroyed, which is exactly what the Dean has sought to prevent. He's built up quite the collection with his patron, each story as intriguing and unique as the last, but of his collection there's one that's quite old indeed.

The Cursed Knight.

Simple lines across a book bound in purple covering, the front offering the feel of mossy stone as a hand passes over it. It's older than the Doctor, older than the Dean--it's a text that's narrowly avoided destruction by sheer luck alone. Falling off a cart full of tomes on the way to the bonfire, found pristine and undamaged in the ashes of a grand chapel, thrown back through a portal to the Underworld to crack open the skull of the human who sought to rid the world of it. It bears the title of "cursed" and yet it lives eternally, seemingly immortal when the matter of luck is brought into the equation.

The content of the book, however, is a topic that's highly debated. While many have heard tell of it very few have laid eyes on the pages, as the book lives and breathes as many portal-books do, and as it has a beating heart it also has emotions. It shakes itself out of the hands of ones it dislikes, floats over the heads of those that wish it harm, even bites those that try to pry open its pages by force. It obeys no will but its own and has such gained a reputation for being a bit unmagnanimous, even for a book. The details are scarce, but the general consensus on the core storyline remains quite similar.

In a very old realm, within a very strange kingdom, there lived a knight in service of the ruling royal family. Whether he was human or monster is debatable, but he was most certainly a very poor squire as he had only ill-fitting armour and a rusted sword with which to defend his kingdom. Despite this he was incredibly strong, however, and completed many feats for the king and queen over his years of service, which proved his worthiness to attain knighthood and gained him renown all over the realm. Some believe he fell deeply in love with someone within the royal family and wished to impress them, while others claim he was spurned by a tavern maid and fell into a deep sadness. Either way, his successes led him to search for something more, something to ensure he wouldn't ever feel the rejection of failure...which is what led him to sneak into the royal vault in the dead of night, and don the legendary armour that had been passed down through countless generations of the royal family. It would grant him the power to accomplish nearly anything, for it possessed a strength within it reserved only for those closest to the gods--but only those with noble blood could make use of it, and as the knight had been born and bred a commoner, the armour transformed him into something most unholy.

In the dead of night, wailing screams pierced the moonlit sky as the kingdom's beloved knight slaughtered his way through the castle like a madman out for blood. Uncontrollable fury overwhelmed his sword-arm and possessed him to kill all who stood in his way, innocent or criminal, commoner or noble, human or monster. After blood had been spilled within the castle walls and he had eliminated the last of the royal line, his rage was still not satiated and he continued into the town at its doorstep, unstoppable and cavernous in his grief as it swallowed him whole and left him hollow. Friends, fellows, admirers, family, all fell to his sword without hesitation, and even once the kingdom had grown quiet the bloodlust inside him still cried out for more carnage.

With nothing more to kill, the knight vanished into the horizon as the sun threatened to spill its rays over the land....and yet it did nothing but peek out and hide, as if the light itself feared the very possibility of the monstrous knight turning his fury towards it. The world grew dark since then, and the knight supposedly wanders the realm searching for more blood to calm the raging fire within his belly, tearstains rusting down the cheeks of the helm that forever conceals his true identity.

Though tragic the tale may sound, there are some who have claimed to read much different versions of the story, however. Some scholars--primarily humans in a similar age demographic to the knight--claim to have read a version of the tale in which the knight's act of donning the armour is given much less importance. Rather than focus on his trials, heroism, and subsequent corruption, they claim the book revealed pages detailing the knight's personal life instead; how he enjoyed reading and fishing in his spare time, that he had a dog he'd befriended and rescued from a pack of wolves, and that he was quite the avid bug collector and would make notes about the butterflies he would see on his daily patrols. They would read countless journal entries about the cats in the castle whose names he had memorized, and how he would sneak fish inside and feed them from his pouch to the dismay of the maids in charge of cleaning up after them. Some even say they would divulge into speaking about the knight's private activities, and would recount with warm faces about his daily routines in shockingly explicit detail.

As most monsters know, the portal books are living beings. They feel joy, they mourn, and above all they remember, as that is what they were created to do. And although the data on some of these rare tomes is expectedly conflicting, as the books get to decide what they divulge, there is only one way to explore the story with a completely unbiased narration--one would have to enter the portal itself into the written realm, a process that's so rare it's almost unbelievable in the eyes of those that haven't witnesed it themselves. One would have to be so adored by the living soul of the tome that they would be willing to bare their entire story to them, to risk hurting their beloved reader with the ugliness of the truth, and almost no self-respecting narrator would even consider such a sacrificial risk.....almost. But if there would be anyone that would be welcomed with such terms in mind, it would most certainly be a person so unlike their peers that they'd practically be an anomaly--just like the book that so desperately wishes for you to open it up.

#cursed knight #cursed knight x reader #monster boyfriend #neutral pov #monster campus introductions #monster campus #ellie writes #1k

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anthrogothic · 2 years

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yes my lord 🛐

#moon knight #marvel #khonshu #khonshu x reader #terato tag #monster lover #oscar isaac #marc spector #steven grant

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dialoguestetatet · 7 months

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you slowly sink down on his cock, your pussy trembling with pleasure of being so full. he gently circles your clit with his thumb and takes your nipple into his mouth

that's my girl, go as slow as you want, yes like that... mhm such a tight pussy, you're so pretty when you moan like this, honey

Dom Kang, Joker, June, Juwon, Minu, Jay Jo, Monster, Juhwan

he repeatedly slams into you from behind, pulling your hair until you throw back your head. you're sure he'll leave marks all over your hips from the force he's grabbing you

fuck, take it, love, yes be a good girl, ohh fuck you're squeezing me so hard... yesyesyes... you wanna my cum don't you, tell me, use your words, darling

Wooin, Vinny Hong, Ryohei, Sangho Choi, Hyeok Gwon, Owen Knight

masterlist

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ursa-tan · 1 year

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Don't fight with me

—————

Konshu (moonknight) x reader

5,013 words

Marc Spector (moonknight) & reader

Marc and the reader are out on a mission, both being godly avatars (Marc having Konshu and the reader having Anubis), they’re expected to be civil towards each other. After spending a month cramped up in a tiny, cheep apartment, the reader has enough and snaps at Marc about cleaning up after himself. Konshu is not happy to hear them shout at his avatar

The last thing I wanted to be doing right now was getting in a fight with the man I was living with. Marc Spector was normally a great guy, a little brash and heavy handed at times but overall really sweet, especially to me. But right now, he was being an utter dick head. I don’t know why he thought ignoring chores was a good idea, but apparently, he did. I didn’t ask for much, I just wanted him to clean up after himself, that’s all. But it was too much for poor old Marc to do.

I didn’t want to shout at him, but he wasn’t willing to listen to a simple request. It was a bad day, I was tired and just wanted a fucking break. But apparently that too much to ask.

“Seriously Marc? You make a mess in the kitchen and don’t clean it up?”

“I’m tired (Y/n), cut me some slack,” he groaned without looking up at me.

“This apartment is barely big enough for the both of us, I just want to keep it tidy so its an easier space to live in.” I could feel anger bubbling in my chest, a scream scratching at my throat to get out.

“Stop being so aggressive about it. Ill get round to it.” This time he looked at me, the pure apathy on his face only made me angrier.

“Y’know what Marc? Fine. Fuck you! If you don’t Wanna clean up after you, I won’t either!”

“Oh, fuck off (Y/n)! I couldn’t care less!”

I didn’t take the time to look at his face, as he said “I couldn’t care less”. So, I opted to just storm away to the only space that was mine and mine alone in the tiny apartment – my bedroom. I just needed a minute alone. Just a little while away from the man in the living room.

And I thought I was going to get that, until the all too familiar sound of wind pierced the silence.

I whipped around, intending to give Konshu a piece of my mind, only to find him already looming over me. I stumble backwards in shock, eventually bumping my back against the wall behind me, but he still doesn’t give me any space.

“You think it’s a good idea to start a fight with my avatar human?” the god loomed over me now, one hand reaching to rest on my shoulder, thumb gently caressing the front of my neck.

“Fuck off, I don’t answer to you.” I had to resist the urge to spit in his face, choosing to sneer at him instead.

Suddenly, his hand was around my neck, the long bony fingers wrapped fully around my neck, squeezing at the soft flesh with just enough force to insinuate a threat. His tall stature bent down to bring the tip of his beak next to my ear, along with his free hand up to your hip.

“You may be tethered to your own god Human, but I am in charge here.” His hands both continued to tighten as his husky voice reached my ears.

“Fuck off Konshu, I’m not scared of you,” I hissed out, prompting him to press me into the wall harder than I was before. I desperately wanted to retaliate, but I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” he growled into my ear “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, it’s entirely up to you.”

“I’m not scared of you Konshu, I’m not just going to let you push me around.”

He seemed rather happy that I said that, pulling me away from the wall and pushing me towards my bed. His large hands let go of me once the back of my legs hit the mattress, letting me fall onto it.

It only took a second before he was bending down and placing his hands on the mattress, either side of my body and caging me in. My breath quickened and I could feel a heat rising to my face.

“Well then Scarab, I’m glad you want to do things the hard way.” Both hands were on me in an instant, gripping at my hips, almost painfully digging into me. His fingers ran up my body, hooking into the waistband of my jeans.

Konshu didn’t speak this time, only tugging at the waist band and waiting for me to answer. My heart rate quickened as I froze up, not moving an inch as he tugged once again.

“Are you too dumb to understand a simple gesture Scarab? Do you need to spell it out for you?” His voice was still gravely in my ear, making my face grow that much hotter. “Fine then. Take them off, or let me.” Only when he finished speaking did I realise he had been undoing the button of my jeans.

All I could do was lift my hips slightly while I blinked at him, shivering at his hands as they skimmed down the skin on my thighs. Slowly they were exposed to the air and as soon as my jeans hit the floor, his hands went straight to grope at my thighs.

“I’m not going to do this if you don’t want it.” He continued to slowly massage my thighs, kneading the sensitive flesh between his large hands. I remain frozen, staring straight up at the ceiling and breathing heavily, but I push my thighs against his hands trying to get him to continue.

“No, Scarab. Use your words. Or are you too stupid?”

I let out a small grumble, pushing my thighs into his hands even more and whispering. “I want this.”

“I didn’t hear a please Scarab,” he whispered in my ear, continuing to massage my thighs. I failed to bite back the temptation to growl at him.

“I’m not gonna fucking beg for you K-“ I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence as I felt one finger brush over my clothed core, applying more pressure over the entrance and then pulling away. Konshu chuckled darkly, slowly dragging his finger back and forth across the fabric of my panties.

I still refused to open my mouth, but the god above me seemed perfectly happy to continue going about things his way. Slowly, his finger found my entrance and began to push more firmly against over my panties. I was sure that the sharp tip was going to pierce the fabric as he pushed harder and harder. Just as the fabric reached breaking point, he pulled away. Not even seconds after he did, Konshu’s hands were back on my skin, pulling my panties down my legs and tossing them onto the floor.

Only now did I realise how truly cold his hands were, guess that’s what I get for getting down and dirty with a skeletal bird god. The tips of his fingers scratched at the soft flesh of my inner thigh as they scraped towards my core. Heat was slowly beginning to build in my core as he edged ever closer to actually touching me, only to move back down and start the process all over again.

His hands finally start to skim closer to my cunt, only to move out of the way last second and begin to snake up my shirt. I feel my stomach muscles tense when his fingers ghost my lower abdomen, causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

His hands skimmed behind by back, a gently tug urging me to sit up. Although, I didn’t have to worry about that for long, as I was guided back down again by a gently push to the chest as soon as my shirt and bra were gone. Both pieces of fabric were forgotten as toon as they hit the floor, as Konshu started to skim those sharp fingers of his over my delicate skin once again. Although this time, they weren’t restrained to any one area and instead trailed my entire body.

His right hand made its way back to my cunt, which at this point was soaking. I could feel him trailing a finger around it, watching as my legs twitched and my hips jolted while he did. It didn’t take him long to find my clit, brushing over it with his thumb in such a delicate manner it almost had me begging for more. Slow, gently, feather light circles were traced over my clit for a few seconds before a sudden, sharp push had me gasping for air.

Another chuckle fell from Konshu. I tried to look away from him, but his left hand came to grip my face and force me to look at him.

“You are going to watch exactly what I do to you until I say you can look away, understand Scarab?” before I had a chance to answer, the muddle finger of his right hand was dipping into my pussy. Little by little, his finger moved into me, until it was impossibly deep. Once he could push in no further, he slowly began to pull out. He kept this excruciatingly painful pace for a few seconds before pulling out entirely.

A moan almost left my lips, only to be replaced by a sharp gasp when a different finger was pushed inside of me. He did the same with this one has he did with the other, only pulling out once he deemed it sufficiently wet. Looking up to me to check I was still paying attention, he used the fingers that were now wet with my slick to push back into me.

“Konshu-“ The hand that had been gripping my face moved sharply to cover my mouth instead.

“Tonight, I am your god, your master. You will address me as such Scarab, or you will suffer the consequences.” Slowly, he began to curl his fingers into me, the flat pads pressing into my walls. “But I fully intend to make sure you can’t speak by the end of tonight.” His fingers continued to move, stretching me with a slightly painful burn that made me writhe.

“Oh Scarab, if you can’t take this, there’s no way you’ll be able to take me,” he murmured into my ear, continuing to slowly curl what would be the pads of his fingers into my upper wall before relaxing them. Konshu continued to slowly move his fingers, never changing pace or how hard he was doing it. All I could do was let my eyes flicker shut and hold my hips off the mattress as he did.

A short moan started in my throat but didn’t have time to reach my lips as Konshu pushed the thumb of his free hand past my lips. It pushed down onto my tongue, effectively silencing me as my watery eyes looked up to him.

“Oh Scarab, is this too much for you?” he didn’t give me a chance to answer before his fingers began to curl and relax faster than before. I could feel him slowly begin to pump them as well. The pleasure began to build up very quickly, growing from a warm tingle in my cunt to a tightening pleasure in my lower abdomen. I could feel it surmounting, building to a fast climax. Just as white began to creep into the corners of my vision and a whine built up in the back of my throat, his fingers stopped.

The sudden stillness ripped the building whine from my throat, only now it was a whine of displeasure. I tried my best to show how frustrated I was by biting down on his finger, but with him being a god, it didn’t seem to have much effect. Despite the lack of reaction, I continued my attempted assault on his bony thumb. This still yielded no results – until I felt his fingers sharply push up into my, causing my biting to stop and a desperate moan to tear itself from my throat in its place.

“I really wouldn’t suggest trying to fight me, unless you don’t wish to cum tonight.” I now understood why Marc found him so insufferable. Well, I always had, but now I really knew. In a pathetic attempt to apologise, my lips gently closed around the part of him that was still in my mouth and I pressed the flat of my tongue against it. The god above me seemed pleased with my non-verbal answer and rolled his thumb over my wet tongue.

His fingers began to move inside of me once again, pumping and curling with the same rhythm they had found before. I defiantly wasn’t one to complain, instead continuing to absentmindedly play with Konshu’s thumb using my tongue and moan at the pleasure. Once again, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to begin to bubble up in my stomach, the tension in my lower abdomen began to tighten once again and almost bubbled over – only for Konshu to stop once again. Some part of me was sure that if he could smirk – he would be.

The pressure slowly simmered down, but Konshu never removed his fingers. Just as the pressure ebbed away, leaving me a little frustrated and beyond disappointed, he began to move again. Faster and harder than before this time, his hand was moving almost painfully, but not quite, the feeling of a climax built up much faster than the previous, and I could feel myself tightening around him. He stopped again and I could feel tears bubble up in the corners of my eyes and spill, trickling down my face at the overwhelming feeling.

“What do you want little Scarab?” His voice wasn’t aggressive like it had been before, but it wasn’t kind either. He was taunting me, making fun of me and the state I was in because of him.

I tried to speak, to spit a witty remark in his face, but it didn’t work. My throat had closed in on itself and all I could do was gasp for air and breathe heavily as he chuckled.

“If you want to cum, then you best work for it,” his voice was smoother than ever, flowing like the Nile and making me desperate for release. Despite the humiliation it would normally bring, I felt as if I had surpassed a threshold of some kind and slowly began to try and bounce my hips.

I was quick to find out that it wasn’t working, and settled on rolling my hips instead. Konshu moved in time with me, but put in no more effort than I did. I was effectively fucking myself on his fingers and he was getting off to the idea – I was sure of it. Tears blurred my vision more than before and I couldn’t help but let small whines scratch their way out of my throat. My hips moved faster and with more force as I continued, and despite the effort that I had to put in, my climax began to build up again.

My face burnt with embarrassment as I felt myself tighten around Konshu’s fingers, my hips shuddering as I got closer. The pressure that had been fading in and out to par finally snapped and I came. The orgasm washed through me, back arching with the pleasure as I gushed over the god’s fingers.

I could feel his fingers keep moving as I came down from my high. My body relaxed into the mattress once the pleasure finally ebbed away, allowing my muscles to completely relax. His fingers still didn’t stop moving, gently massaging my walls.

“You ready for more Scarab?” his voice was gravely, sending a shiver up my spine and causing a whimper to fall from my mouth. Konshu seemed pleased with that, finally sliding his fingers out of me and starting to rub gentle circles on my clit.

His free hand moved to his own hip, fiddling with something before returning it to my thigh. His fingers dug into my soft flesh, massaging and bruising it. I couldn’t help but roll my hips up into his hand, causing his fingers to slip in and out of me.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he almost chuckled, finally removing his fingers from me. I whined as the long, almost rough fingers dragged out of me. The pleasure finally faded completely, leaving me with a warm wetness between my legs and partially smeared down my thighs.

My voice seemed to come back once he stepped out from between my thighs, so I propped myself up on my elbows and looked up at him. The god stares down at me as I close my legs and let my face settle down into a deadpan expression.

“So, you’re gonna edge me and leave me huh?” Obviously, my sarcasm hadn’t left me at any point. Although my question seemed like the wrong thing to say at this very moment, as the towering figure leaned in. He would be caging me in if not for the fact that his arms were tucked behind his back.

“Would you like to phrase that differently scarab?” A darkness dripped from the ancient voice that I’ve never quite heard before. If I could’ve swallowed my words right then, I would have. However, intrigue spread through my body and, despite the fact Konshu was a god, I wasn’t going to let him push me around.

“No.” I tried to keep my voice strong and stable, but the way he straightened his posture to stand as tall as the ceiling would allow made my body quiver.

“Have it your way then Human.”

Fuck

There was a rustling and the fabric that had adorned his waist dropped to the floor. It crumpled around his feet in a heap before he stepped out of it. I was drawn to look at Konshu’s face, unable to tear my eyes away.

In a way that could’ve been mistaken as tender, the bony, calloused hands of the god before me once again trailed up my sensitive thighs. Rough bone moved to cup the delicate flesh on the insides of my thighs and – for a second – I thought I had gotten away with that I had said.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed, using his superior strength to snap my previously closed legs open and hold them there. I fought to close them, purely out of spite, but nothing I did fought against the god’s strength.

“If you call me name, my real name, I shall stop… Until then, you are mine to do with as I please.”

A deep pit started to form in my stomach, causing me to tear my eyes away from the almost delicate looking structure around his eye sockets. Lustful eyes trailed all the way down his body, stopping at his crotch.

I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting, but a large, almost translucent and honey coloured member was not it. It was solidly 8 inches long, maybe more, and dripped with what I could only assume was precum. The girth was hard to judge from this angle, but you could understand why he had made the comment earlier.

Nervousness consumed me as I realised there was no way this was going to happen without at least a little pain on your end. Words bubbled up your throat and tumbled over your lips in an attempt to stall him just a few more seconds.

“Don’t you need a c-“ He cut me off, hands holding the underneath of me knees as he tugged me closer.

“No need, you are a mortal. Your fragile little body wouldn’t take it even if you wanted to.”

Questions flooded my mind and the thought of the painfully delicious stretch to come was no longer on the forefront of my mind.

“But aren’t new gods cr-“

A sharp thrust caused his member to glide through my folds, coating it in my wetness.

“Cease your incessant questions. You are a mortal, nothing will happen,” his voice seemed distant, preoccupied on things other than me running my mouth.

Konshu pulled his hips back, removing a hand from the back of my knee to take hold of his cock. Guiding it towards my practically dripping entrance. The thick head pushed against my entrance before slipping up at the last second, pressing against my clit. It’s still sensitive from earlier and the pressure makes my back arch, eyes squeezing shut; the leg not being held by Konshu wrapping around his waist.

Dark chuckling came from above me and the god readjusted, finally pressing into me. Not even an inch in I could feel the stretch, pushing me further open than I had ever been before. Soft whimpers make their way from my lips, spilling out and into the air.

“Hmm, what a wonderful sound,” his grumbling voice dripped with lust, only adding to the way my pussy squeezed around him.

Konshu moved his hands, placing them on the underside of my thighs. For a second, confusion passes over me before he’s pushing my legs forwards, knees practically touching my shoulders. The burn of my muscles sketching is quickly pushed to the back of my mind by the feeling of the god pushing into me. His large hands continued to hold me exactly as he wanted me, pushing his hips to slip his cock into me. Burning pleasure coursed outwards from my core, reaching a high when his pelvis finally pressed into the underside of my thighs.

Despite what seemed like desperation to move, the ancient being pressed into you stayed still, opting only to pull your legs so they laid partially over your shoulders instead. Slowly, the pain from being stretched so much gave way to a most more pleasurable sensation. Although, there was a pushing inside of you that was stranger than anything you’d ever felt.

Managing to raise your head ever so slightly, you looked down and at your lower stomach. There was a slight bulge. Caused by Konshu’s member pushing against the soft, warm walls of your pussy. You wanted to reach down and touch it, push against it and see what it felt like, but decided against it for the time being.

Seeing the way I moved to look at my body, Konshu gave an experimental thrust, pulling out half an inch before sliding back in. My head fell backwards onto the soft sheets as he did, a moan falling from my lips. I hadn’t expected it to feel like good.

In response to my moan, he gave another experimental thrust, then another and another. Slowly, he built up a good pace, pulling out slightly more every time until he was about a quarter of the way out before thrusting back into me. MY pussy began to flutter around him, squeezing his cock while it dragged along my walls.

It almost sounded as if he was growling above me, huffing with each move. I know he was restraining himself for my sake – something I didn’t think the god could do. I reached down, between my legs, to run a finger over my clit. However, my hand was quickly swatted away my Konshu.

He moved his left arm to cross both of my legs, holding the outer side of my right thigh and pressing them both to his chest. His right hand quickly snakes between my legs and a thumb pressed to my clit. Konshu began to rub fast, tight circles with just enough pressure to make my back arch off the bed and I practically screamed for him.

Barely understandable words spilled from my lips as my eyes squeezed shut, but not once did I say his name. “God, Feels so good!” I yelled as the muscles in my back screamed for me to relax.

He didn’t respond, only quickening his thrusts. Languid motions that drew more and more out of me as they sped up. Konshu started to go harder as well, pounding into me with each snap of his hips. Each thrust seemed to have him slipping further out of you as well.

Konshu finally settled into a brutal, bruising pace, slipping all the way out of me before fucking himself all the way back in. I could feel every time the head of his cock came in contact with my walls and, combined with the sensation of the tight circled being rubbed on my clit, it was driving me towards my second orgasm of the night – quickly.

My moans grew in volume and shrillness, until I was practically screaming. Konshu seemed to enjoy this, his hips or hand never once faltering. The knot in my belly grew tighter as he kept going. Despite the fact he never changed pace, it felt as if I was getting more and more sensitive until my orgasm finally comes crashing over me.

White hot bliss coursed over my body, consuming my vison and mind, leaving no room for anything else. Arching off the bed once again, every muscle in my torso and legs felt like they tightened with absolute pleasure. I could do nothing but moan, no words were formed though, just a scream of pure ecstasy.

Once I finally started to come down from my high, I noticed Konshu hadn’t changed his pace at all. Although his thumb was slowing down on my clit, he never actually removed it, and his hips didn’t stutter nor falter. The feeling as starting to get to much, overwhelming me as I finally dropped fully back onto the mattress.

Tears began to brim in my eyes faster than I thought they would’ve. Overwhelming was the only thing I could call the sensation now. The drag of his cock along my sensitive walls.

The hand that had previously been occupied playing with my clit moved to my lower stomach. Suddenly I was aware of what he was going to do. Large fingers splayed out, palm directly over where the small bulge would appear with every thrust, not applying pressure yet.

That changed rather quickly, as his palm pushed down into my belly and the feeling of his cock became accentuated. My previous screams of pleasure turned into overwhelmed sobs. Yet I didn’t want him to stop.

For a moment, just a moment, Konshu seemed as if he wanted to as if I was ok. But even through the blur of tears that cascaded down my cheeks, I begged for more. And the god obliged my pleads.

This was no longer about my pleasure, but rather about him chasing his release. His hips finally began to falter, thrusts becoming sloppier and more pressure being applied to the hand pressed against my stomach. I could’ve sworn I could hear him mumbling curses with the occasional hint of my name, but the ringing in my ears made it hard to know.

Finally, Konshu tipped over the edge, finding his release. His hips never stopped moving nor did they truly slow. Instead, he continued to fuck me hard and fast through his orgasm. Spilling into me hot and heavy, growling out my name. After what felt like minutes of agonising pleasure, his hips finally stilled, pressed into me. He was panting, catching breath he didn’t need to catch.

I shifted, pulling myself out of his grip and off of him, sighing at the feeling of being empty and letting myself go limp against the bed. Konshu’s cum spilled out of me as I lay there, catching breath I actually needed to catch.

A bony hand touched my thigh, gently, moving it to exam it.

“I didn’t hurt you did I Scarab?” I was surprised at how gentle his voice was, especially as his hands twisted me every so slowly, checking for bruising.

“No… Not in a way I didn’t like at least…” I was still trying to suck in breaths and calm my pulse.

I felt the hotness between my legs and inside me dissipate suddenly, feeling as if it was completely gone. Mustering the strength to sit up, I checked myself for the mess I was sure I was going to have to clean up. However, there was nothing there besides my own mess. My eyes flitted to Konshu who, while still missing the garments that usually adorned his lower half, no longer had a dick.

Questions started to materialise in my mind, and I wanted to babble them all out. However, Konshu seemed to beat me to it.

“It’s magic. Anything that comes from it is magic. I can summon it and get rid of it as I please.”

Well… that was all of my questions answered.

I did my best to reach down without falling off the bed, picking up my shirt and using it to gently pat my thighs dry. Eventually, I managed to get myself below the covers without having to get up either.

“You must be tired Scarab, I’ll leave you be,” there was something in his voice that was so much kinder than you had ever heard before, yet somehow it seemed to sound the same as it always did.

“Thanks… Konshu…” I mumbled, pulling the duvet up to my chin and curling my legs towards my stomach slightly. This was gonna hurt in the morning, you could already tell. In an unpleasant surprise that really shouldn’t have been a surprise at all, I realised that I was going to have to get up to flick the lights off, close the curtains and the door.

Before a groan had the chance to escape my mouth, I heard the sound of the curtains being drawn. Turning my head slightly I could see Konshu, making sure they were fully shut. Then, he made his way towards the door, flicking the lights out and turning closing the door behind him without a single word. I know full well he could’ve just dissipated and probably did as soon as he was outside the door.

Warmth from both the actions of the god and the duvet around you started to seep into your body and after minutes, you were no longer awake.

#moon knight #marc spector #marc Spector & reader #x reader #konshu #konshu x reader #Konshu x fem! reader #they/them pronours #minimal y/n #monster x human #god x human #god x reader #NSFT fanfic #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

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eatmyscepter · 2 years

Text

What the hell?

pairing: jack russell x gn!reader

words: 2,349

tags/warnings: fluff, first meetings, teeny bit of angst, jack being the sweetest ever, reader is a monster hunter, jack is probably ooc for most of it but it’s fine lol, kinda erased elsa from being a big part of the story sorry :(

summary: You are a monster hunter, a quite good one, and you’re invited to Ulysses Bloodstones funeral. There, you and a few other hunters compete for the ultimate prize; the Bloodstone. At this twisted funeral, you meet Jack, another hunter. But, something about him is different than the other hunters.

also on ao3

Okay, let’s get this straight. You weren’t like all the rest of these monster hunters - greedy, vile, and power-seeking. No, no. But you could be if you had to be.

A lot of people have underestimated you and your abilities. Frankly, they were all wrong to assume. You always got the job done, when you had to.

Also, let’s get one more thing straight. You didn’t necessarily want the Bloodstone. You were invited to the funeral of Ulysses Bloodstone, a dramatic and powerful hunter. During the funeral, you learned that you and all of the other hunters here would be competing for the red stone. Interesting.

Really, the only reason you even came was because you wanted to keep the Bloodstone out of the hands of these maniacs. Sure, you could argue everyone in this field was a maniac, but you swore you were different. I mean, you were raised and trained to do this. What else were you supposed to do with your life?

After the speech made by the lifeless, but animated, corpse of the deceased Bloodstone, you and the rest of the hunters got out of your seats, ready to follow Verussa to the gardens. As you stood up, you looked around, trying to observe who you were up against.

Your eyes scanned the small crowd and landed on a short man, with white paint consisting of dots and lines coating the perimeter of his face. He seemed to be nervous, a bit of sweat on his forehead. He didn’t seem like he could be a hunter. He didn’t seem like the rest of these people. But to be fair neither did you, yet you have killed many monsters. You then remembered Verussa saying he had killed over a hundred monsters. Hm.

With furrowed brows, you walked over to the man. As you got closer, he looked surprised, but tried to mask it.

“So over a hundred kills, huh? That’s impressive.” The man lifted his brows, in confusion. You continued, “I’m just surprised since you don’t really look like the type to kill.. anything.” You laughed.

He smiled in reply. Then he said, “Ah, well who does look the type?” Your eyes lit up in amusement.

“Ha, you’re funny. I’m Y/N. And who are you exactly?” You asked, smirking.

“My name is Jack. Jack Russell.” He said as he started to hold his hand out for you.

You tried to hold in laughter, but failed. “Jack? Russell? Like the dog?”

Jack chuckled in reply to your questioning. “Sadly, yes.”

A silence fell on the two of you, as the laughter died down. Jack tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. He looked up at your face. You too had paint markings on your face. Your paint was definitely different than his though; you had light blue paint curved under your eyes and cheeks. It looked absolutely beautiful with your skin tone.

“The paint on your face, is that a family thing? I’m only wondering because mine is..” Jack asked, genuinely curious.

“No, it’s not. I just think it looks kinda cool.” Jack laughed at that.

The two of you stood there for a few more seconds, smiling at each other. Both of your heads perked up when you heard Verussa telling the crowd to follow her.

“We should get going..” Jack trailed off. You nodded in agreement and the two of you started walking, following the rest of the hunters.

Eventually, you got to the entrance of the gardens. There was a table with candles and an open skull on it. Verussa directed all of you to take something out of the skull. You went second to last, a man with dark lines of paint across his face going right after you.

The older, bigger man looked over at Jacks palm and said, “Lucky bastard.” You were confused at this, but soon figured out what it meant when Verussa explained that Jack gets to go in first.

You then looked over at Jack, him looking back at you soon after. You sent an awkward smile his way, to comfort him. But, why? You guys are competing for the Bloodstone. And hell, he might even try to kill you to get it. Why were you wanting to comfort him?

You felt less foolish when he sent a smile back your way.

Jack turned around and walked away from you and the rest of the hunters to enter the gardens.

A little while later, you were able to enter the chaos filled grounds. You were a little nervous, but decided that wouldn’t be of any help and pushed the feeling down.

You advanced in the broken down gardens, trying to be as quiet as possible. You were more nervous about the hunters than the monster. Plus, the monster was weakened by the stone. However, the hunters were strengthened with the idea of calling the powerful stone theirs.

As you continued to walk slowly and cautiously around the place, you heard a noise coming from the bushes around the corner. You carefully peeked around the tall bush and saw.. Jack talking to the bush?

“What the hell are you doing?” You whispered, but still trying to get the effect of yelling.

Jack whipped around, obviously startled by your intrusion. He looked around before grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him.

As you were inches away from him, he looked at you and said in a hushed voice, “This is going to sound crazy, I know, but the monster that they have here is my friend. I’m trying to rescue him.” He said as he pulled back the leaves in the way and revealed a huge, swamp-like monster sitting in there.

You gasped, but as you started to talk, Jack covered your mouth with his hand. You furrowed your eyes in confusion. What the hell was happening?

Once he trusted you calmed down, he released his hand from covering your mouth. You smacked him on the shoulder in response.

“What the hell?! So,” you paused, “so are you even a monster hunter? How did you even get invited here?” You asked him.

“I am.. kind of.. a monster hunter.” He replied, not feeling like going in depth with any answers.

You shook your head in disbelief.

The noise of someone running in your general direction made you and Jack freeze. You stood there, wondering who it was. After a few seconds, you saw the hunter with the all white outfit pausing to look at the pair of you and the start sprinting toward you.

Jack tried to get the leaves on the bush to go back, to hide the monster. Then he grabbed your hand, beginning to run away from the tall hunter.

As you two were running, Jack spotted a small building in one of the sections of the garden. Jack let go of your hand, to open the door, and ushered you into the room. The hunter chairing you wasn’t far behind, so Jack slammed the door.

Right as he did he heard a voice that was definitely not yours say, “..door! ugh!” He turned around, wondering who it was.

Elsa Bloodstone.

You walked closer to the door, trying to get it open. Locked. Great.

You too turned toward Elsa, curious to what she was doing in here. Your eyes scanned her body, and when they got to her legs you noticed she was bleeding quite badly.

Apparently, Jack was doing the same as you. Right before you were going to say something he blurted out, “You’re hurt. Can I help you?”

Elsa put her hands up in defence, “No!”

“Okay..” Jack said, turning towards you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

You nodded at him, a soft smile on your lips. He smiled and nodded back.

The three of you stood, and sat, in silence. Uncomfortable silence. No offense to them, but you didn’t exactly want to be stuck in a room full of dead Bloodstones.

“Okay, how do we get out of here? Is there a key, axe, anything?” Jack suggested.

“Not that I’ve seen.” Elsa replied, annoyed already.

You sigh, stretching, before sitting on the dirty ground. Jack walks closer to you, doing a twirl before sitting next to you.

You look over at the man. He looks tired. You’re positive you do as well.

“So,” you start, “you and the monster are friends. How does that even happen?”

Jack smiles at your question.

“Uh, it is kind of a long story. And I can’t really tell it, right now.” He states, not wanting to tell you about himself yet.

“Oh, okay.” You say, kind of disappointed. You were extremely curious on how a man and a.. thing.. like that could be friends.

Elsa interrupted your thoughts by climbing up the pile of coffins. You and Jack looked at each other, confused by her actions.

“What are you doing?” Jack questioned.

“My dad used to tell me stories about my crazy Aunt. She was positive she would come back from the dead. And when she did,” Elsa paused her story to beat the glass from the coffin. She reached her hand in the home of her dead Aunt and grabbed anything she could find. Eventually she found something of use. Keys.

Elsa continued, showing the keys to the two of you, “she would need an escape plan.”

You smiled at her, jumping up and down in child-like excitement. Jack smiled a little as well.

Elsa climbed down from her families resting places and landed firmly on the ground. She walked over to the door and unlocked it. You turned to Jack and held your hand up, for a high five. He smirked and returned it.

The three of you stood outside of the tomb and started to make up the plan. While inside, Jack stated he didn’t want the Bloodstone. He proposed that if Elsa could help him get the monster free from this mess, he would gladly give her the stone that ran in her family. You should’ve been offended that you would get nothing from this endeavor, but you just wanted to go home and take a long, hot bath. With bubbles of course!

You guys decided that Elsa would go get Ted, while you and Jack try to explode the wall with a tiny bomb Jack had, for some reason.

As Jack was going over how to turn the bomb on with Elsa, he accidentally twisted it, causing the bomb to start beeping.

The three of you looked at each other and then scattered off, starting the plan a bit earlier than expected.

You and Jack ran off to the opposite of where Elsa was headed. You two were running towards the edge of the gardens, so when you place the bomb on the wall, Ted could run into the woods.

You finally got to your destination. Jack ran closer to the wall than you, since he was the one with the tiny bomb. He threw it at the wall and ran behind a big rock. The bomb landed in the grass.

“Shit!” Jack exclaimed.

He tried that several more times before you told him to put it in the crack that was running along the rock wall. He listened to you and as the bomb was about to go off, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you down with him, toward the large rock.

When the rock wall exploded, Ted and Elsa came running towards you. You looked politely at Ted, not wanting to make the monster mad in any way, and then nodded at Elsa.

Ted continued to walk past you and Jack, towards the opening in the wall.

Elsa spun a dark laso-type thing and screamed, “Wait!” The rope grabbed onto the Bloodstone secured on Teds back. Elsa pulled until it jumped off of the monster. Ted continued to run away.

You looked over at Jack, him beaming at everyone’s success. You grinned at the short man and turned to Elsa, surprised to she the bitter woman smiling ear-to-ear as well.

Jack walked past you and over to the stone, wanting to grab it and hand it over to Elsa since their deal was complete.

Just as Jack grabbed the red, glowing stone, it pushed him back. His body impacted the floor with a loud noise and then you heard groaning.

You and Elsa shared a glance of confusion before you ran over to Jack. You squatted down next to his injured form.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay? Jack?” You questioned the man holding his own arms, but you only got a groan out of him.

A few other hunters ran over to the sight, and stood there, wondering what had happened.

Verussa soon followed after them, some people that worked for her coming very close after.

“Well, well..” she started, “look at this.”

Jack continued to groan in discomfort.

“The Bloodstone did this to you?” Verussa laughed.

“He grabbed it.” The tall hunter, dressed in all white said. “It threw him back.”

Verussa turned her head back to Jack, and you on the ground next to him.

“My word..” She trailed off.

Jack looked up at you in panic. You nodded your head as a way to assure him that he would be okay.

“A monster. Masquerading as one of our own.” The older woman stated.

Your eyes grew in shock. Jack? A monster? It was hard believing he was a hunter.. but a monster? That couldn’t possibly be correct.

You looked down at the man laying on the floor and raised your brows, silently asking if what she was saying was true. He looked away from your eyes.

So it is true. Jack is a monster.

Verussa walker closer to the two of you and yelled, “Desecrating our sacred night!”

Someone that worked for the woman walked closer behind you two and zapped Jack with a large taser. He yelled in pain and fear. The same person zapped you and Elsa as well.

What the hell just happened?!

notes: okay so i was planning on this only being one part but im tired and lazy, so this is gonna be two parts instead. if you enjoyed, please reblog and like! ill try to start and post the next part by the end of the week! 🫂

#jack russell #jack russell x reader #werewolf by night #elsa bloodstone #mcu oneshot #marvel one shot #moon knight #gender neutral reader #fluff #first meeting #werewolf #werewolf fanfiction #monster hunter #gael garcia bernal

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