monstrouslyobsessed

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Hey just wanted to check in on you and asked how are you doing? Please don't stress yourself and make sure to take breaks if needed

What happened? Are you fine? I’m worried about you —Anonymous ARE YOU FINE???????? IM VERY WORRIED —Anonymous ARE YOU FINNE? WHAT HAPPENED???!? —Anonymous

sorry i meant to answer sooner but we got a surprise addition to my household atm right after I posted my last piece and had to tend to that. but I'm okay! just...been a lot happening in my life + depression and other things and I had to take myself as a priority over my writing and projects i'd been poking around with. good news tho, I got a new PC!! so I can game and shits for like first time in years. :')

...also meant i'd have to redo my auto tagging system...

anyway, hope you all are doing well in spite of today's...er, situations? i appreciate your concerns, it's very kind of you all. i can't make any promise on frequent posting though, but I'll try to write and answer some asks when i can <3. if you have any curiosity, then feel free to send them in.

<3

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Concept beastfolk idea: Buff, intimidating wolf who's super sweet and always smiling. He was in a secret relationship with afab reader during the Zoo era but got caught by reader's strict parents and was sent to the Zoo. A few years past and the Zoo breakout happens. Wolf tracks down reader but is no longer the same kindhearted beast she once knew him as thanks to his cruel prison. Especially after learning that he paid her parents a "special visit" before finding her.

Sorry if this is a lot and over detailed! I was really interested in the concept of the zoo era/early breakout years and wanted to know how it would affect couples in a Romeo and Juliet situation.

note: -slams this down after many months of absence and runs the fuck away-

→summary: once, he was sweet. now, he wasn’t, looming above you with eyes you thought were so gentle—now burning with something else entirely. →rating: T (to be safe) →pairing: fangedfolk (lycas) / gn!reader  →warnings / tags: mentions of forced institutionalization / institutional abuse, implied parental abuse, past mentions of abduction, implied kidnapping, multiple deaths mentioned, implied traumas, segregation, strict upbringing, fictional slur is used, noncon kissing / licking, cliffhanger, reader got shit parents →word count: 2k, unedited minors dni.

—this is part of my beastfolk universe! minors dni, this is an unhealthy relationship.  post-break out, after the beastfolks and humankind reached to an agreement but the uneasy tensions still remain.

image source | link —all rights reserved to @monstrouslyobsessed​

It was a quiet morning, the security high on alert as usual around campus, rifles tapping against their shoulders and batons resting against their thighs—a normal sight these recent days. You reined in the urge to let out a heavy sigh, your pen rolling over your knuckles as you tried to focus on the professor’s lecture. You’d managed to jot down a few notes for the upcoming exam, but your mind kept drifting back to the old aches you’d tried to bury countless times before. With a wince, you left a long stray mark at the end of your latest scribble.

Lately, you were…antsy.

A sense of foreboding, maybe—just like that night your piss poor excuse of a mother had you shipped off to some boarding school for your final year at high school, snatching you in the middle of the night so you wouldn’t run away to warn your—

You shook your head and pressed your palm to your forehead, forcing yourself to write something.

Anything.

Somehow, you’d written down a few exact lines the professor had said—completely useless for your notes. Fuck.

You dropped your hand to the cool surface of the row table. You’d have to ask a classmate for theirs later.

Once again, your thumb dug into the sharp edge of the fang on your bracelet, the blue stone beads doing little to cool the anxiety in your chest.

Something was wrong…

And you didn’t know if you wanted to break the no-contact vow you’d placed on yourself to check in on your parents. You’d abandoned them the moment they’d abandoned you—all because of your choice in a partner.

Whatever had happened since…well, with your grip tightening around the dangling fang from your long-lost boyfriend, you figured they already got what they deserved.

You still remember that day, dragged away in tears, voice cracking from endless pleas to just leave him and his family be. You’d begged, promised to obey, to be their sweet, obedient child again. Yet, instead, they made enemies out of many hiding behind the walls. Last you heard, they’d been targeted and harassed, and mostly by your own kind, no less, and had to move twice to escape the consequences of their so-called ‘good Samaritans’ deeds.

Your love for them died the same day they tore yours from your reach.

The hatred in your heart still burned, that you’d simply walked away from your parents after graduation with nothing but the clothes on your back, but you kept trying to live on. Always searching for that familiar pair of piercing blue eyes, always adding one more letter to the unsent pile, hoping that one day, you and he would find each other again and he’d read everything you’d written about your everyday life. It was what he would’ve wanted for you, after all.

Despite your self-convictions though, that dreary feeling kept sinking into your bones.

Maybe it was just jitters from the recent news—beastfolk and humankind agitating each other, crime rates rising at an uneven pace. You hated living in the segregated zone, suffocated by rules and restrictions. It reminded you too much of that hellish year at that boarding school.

Slumping your shoulders, you reached into your usual pocket for your keys, your thoughts wandered to your boyfriend’s mom’s cooking. You loved her savory soups—she’d always made you feel at home, like one of her cubs. You used to feel so envious of your boyfriend for having such a wonderful mother, especially when yours offered only strictness and disappointment, constantly measuring you against her impossible expectations. His mom was the one who made you realize just how much your own parents, quite frankly, sucked.

“…Damn,” you murmured, leaning your shoulder against the front door, regret coloring your voice, “I hope they’re all okay. I don’t think I’ve even smiled once since…”

Metal clicked against metal as you slid your key into the lock and turned it, blissfully oblivious to your surroundings.

If you had, then perhaps you’d notice a tall, hulking figure on the street corner watching your every move.

Once inside the empty apartment, you switched the lights on and absently greeted your pet on the way to the refrigerator to grab some leftovers for dinner. You hadn’t noticed your pet’s keen interest in the door you’d just locked a moment before. Too exhausted to care, you deposited your things and proceeded to your usual nightly routine.

That night was nothing out of the ordinary for you.

Sprawling out in your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and soft pillows, you had little left to do but to fall asleep and dream of happier times.

Yet sleep eluded you.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes became hours, before finally, your eyes grew heavy enough—

Loud poundings from the front door startled you, and with an angry groan, you all but stomped your way to yell at the ones responsible for disrupting your much-needed sleep. It was your ingrained “stranger danger” upbringing that stopped you from flinging open your door, and you peered through the peephole.

“…Policemen?” you blinked.

One of them was about to pound your door again when you unlocked it and glanced at them warily through the crack. Tensions had your muscles tight, as you murmured, “Can I help you gentlemen?”

“—?” One said your full name.

Your frown deepened, “…Yes?”

The other sighed and readjusted his hat. “We have some news for you.”

Your blood ran cold.

Dead.

Your parents were found dead.

They didn’t say a whole lot, sparing details to quiet your unneeded guilt, but enough so that you knew they died a gristly death—at the hands of some ‘gutterjaw’*, they said—right inside their own home.

Good riddance, you wanted to say, barely masking your grimace at the slur being used in front of you, but crumbs of mixed feelings lingered.

“…Fuck,” you mumbled into your hot mug, your hands not even feeling the radiating heat from the ceramic. The dark liquid within hadn’t stopped rippling from your shaky grips, yet numbness dulled your senses to realize your state of being. The policemen gave you their sympathies and left after an hour, leaving you to process and digest the information they delivered.

You were alone, with your lights dimmed in your kitchen, with your jumbled thoughts.

Your pet nudged you, confused by your emotions, their wide gaze piercing through your soul. Was it worried about you, or was it asking for its early breakfast? You weren’t sure, but didn’t care. Whatever it was, it was at least a distraction.

“…you hungry?” you mumbled tiredly.

Idly, once the kibbles scattered noisily into its bowl, you patted its head and slumped, how much its eyes reminded you of your missing boyfriend. Selfishly and yearningly craving some company, you’d adopted this little creature specifically because of its eyes. The fang that dangled from your wrist had never felt so heavy.

Your parents were gone.

There is no one left in your life now.

Thick tears cascaded down your cheeks, and for the first time in your life, you had no more anchor to ground you.

You couldn’t live out of pure spite anymore.

Sobs came like thunder, and the floor felt like ice on your skin.

“—, wake up.”

You wrinkled your nose, confused at why you were hearing both your pet’s confused noises and a husky deep voice. It was somehow nostalgic, yet unfamiliar. With a groan, you mumbled and pushed yourself up from your curled position, palms pressing against the tiled floor. When your bleary eyes flickered open, you yelped in shock and scuttled backward at the sight before you.

A hooded…man? His face was concealed in deep shadow, leaving only his wet nose and elongated muzzle with thinned lips visible. He crouched low to the floor, absently doting on your traitorous pet with soft strokes along its face, using his gloved claws.

What the fuck?

Gaping at this intruder in a wordless stupor, your mind scrambled to process his identity.

There were twin bulges against the hood where his ears would be, and his feet looked oddly crooked, wearing inappropriately large human shoes. His fluffy tail swished along the floor like a fan of feathers—

A fangedfolk!?

“W—why are you in my apartment!?” you yelped, scrambling back until your spine smacked hard into a chair.

His glowing gaze shifted slowly onto yours, and your chest thumped at how eerily familiar they were. Your stomach dropped upon his dangerous grin, his black lips pulling apart to reveal pearlescent, jagged teeth. His tail waved slowly, its many colors painting a happier memory behind his large figure, as he released a slow chuckle—voice oddly hoarse, as if he had aged decades…

You trembled, crawling toward his smile, and uttered one name you’d wanted to say for years: “L, Lycas? M, my Lycas?”

As if giving him the confirmation he needed, the smile grew manically.

He grasped your chin, the claws feeling like razors against your skin, and your fingertips brushed across the furs on his snout, still weakly chanting his name. Then his voice dropped to a dangerous level as if in warning:

“Do not scream, my love.”

As your blood ran cold, he gave you no opportunity to defy his threat. You sputtered—and then, he was on you, biting at your mouth before forcing his tongue inside. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a conquest, all teeth and panting fury. You clawed into his shoulders, your protests muffled, and for the first time ever, you no longer found the sharp fangs on your face thrilling.

Fear.

Since when were you ever afraid of your Lycas? That sweet, loud, endlessly earnest Lycas? The same idiot who howled off-key with his siblings until they made everyone’s ears rang? Who’d nab you onto his back and just run, just to prove he could carry you no matter how far (and your weight meant nothing—even that wouldn’t stop him)? His family, his pack, was his heart, and he’d already accepted you into it with a promise of one day making you its center.

The gentle boy who would trip over his own paws trying to make you laugh now had you frozen in fear.

This was not your Lycas you knew. This wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.

He never held you like this, like an object he wanted to break into thousands of pieces. Before, you were like fine glass, something beautiful that only deserves gentle touches and slow kisses. Now, anger trembled his grip.

You choked on his tongue, your lungs screaming for oxygen and your feeble pushing did nothing to break his kiss, despite your fingers tearing through his polyester jacket. Your moaning protests swelling into his mouth and confused tears beaded into your eyes, slipping into thin rivulets down your cheeks. This had to be an imposter, you tried to convince yourself—but deep inside, you know this was Lycas.

Why would he come back the same?

Your knees buckled and your head spun, you attempted to shove him again—

Finally, he pulled away and his tongue slithered like a snake, saliva glinting along his teeth, and you wheezed into a cough.

You missed the way his tongue swept over his fangs, his eyes darkened in a mixture of fury and possessiveness, as you tried to rasp, “L, Lycas…!”

Faintly, you registered the sharp tips of his claws (since when had he sharpened these? He’s always hated accidentally scratching you or his siblings) tracing down your spine. His voice rumbled, “It’s time to come home. They’re all waiting.”

“Wha—?” Dizziness distorted your vision, then a sharp pinch stabbed through your neck, right where your heartbeat thudded. The world dropped away to a darkening blur.

Your body dropped, staggering bonelessly against him, with his arms wrapping around your vulnerable form with a familiar ease. The last thing you saw was his eerily bright gaze, before the blackness took you.

The last thing you’d heard?

“Pst, pst…wanna come home with us?” Lycas clicked his tongue at your whining pet, voice warming with that same charm you fell in love with, “Always got room for one more four-legged critter…”

Your head slumped against his chest, his heartbeat pounded against your ear, that same, gentle rhythm you’d fall asleep to so many times before. Somewhere inside this stranger, that same kind Lycas you loved, still existed.

The bracelet on your wrist felt a little like a burden now, but a comforting one.

—end...?

*it’s a fictional slur targeting certain types of beastfolks, specifically those with both fangs and claws.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Hi there! I’m the anon that asked the previous question! Thank you so much for taking the time to respond to my question! I hope ur health improves 💐🥺

So the Fic was revolving where Darling gets Isekaied to another universe because they were a non-believer so their village pushed them down a Well to a BeastFolk universe where the village saw their arrival as a gift from above so they host a tournament to see who would win the ‘Universe Prize’. The whole time Darling doesn’t understand what they’re doing or saying or doing but thinks they’re just being Kind. The Final match was between A Snake Woman? And a werecreature (don’t recall if it was a wolf or bear?)who was kind of like Papa Bull. He had kids of his own who had grown up. But the Werecreature wins and he swiftly carries them home where things become Spicy~

That’s most of what I recall on details I was sure it was you who had written it but I may be wrong.

Also I’d like to share your work is amazing, the time and effort you put into your writing shows and I avidly enjoy reading it, Your World building is especially intricate! it’s difficult to find a lot of monster media so Thank you for being so great and cool at what you do. I wish you much joy and happiness as you take time to recover.

I... don't know if I've written that one? I'll link the closest possible matches though, but I don't believe I've ever written all that together. I also don't recall writing the darling being thrown down into a well. 🤔

Battle Royale, where the darling is plucked from their home planet and is called poor little mercy, does feature isakai in nature but no other characters are explicitly mentioned.

The darling doesn't believe in the beast gods and gets spirited away as some sort of punishment, technically is an isekai and beast gods pursue the darling to 'win' them. Is not part of my Beastfolk AU though nor did it have any spicy.

The darling is hunted in the game of chase in a large maze, whoever wins then gets to keep and breed them, features some of the Beastfolks characters, the winner is the maned wolf, but isn't an isekai. Got spice tho, but it's noncon fyi!

Not really remotely close to what you're looking for, but the darling serves a 6 armed snake god, does have a mini series linked in a masterlist, and there are spices all over.

Unfortunately, I don't think I'm the author of what you're looking for, but I'm interested in checking it out if you do find it by someone else! I have 3 separate masterlists in my pinned post so please feel free to look through the links. I'm so sorry I'm not of much help :(

Thank you for your kind words, I really do miss you and everyone of my sweet readers in this hellsite, so fingers crossed I'll get some energy to write again!! 🩷 hopefully you'll find the fic you're looking for though 😭 hate losing good fics like that.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Regarding an Older Fic,

It was about getting transferred to a Universe where BeastFolk saw you as an Idol/ Prize during a tournament I can’t seem to find it under any tags 😭

Can u reblog so I can find it. It’s one of my favorites!!

hi sorry, been fairly sick (been enduring some weird issues doctors couldn't diagnose lol), but can you be a bit more specific? do you remember what beastfolk this one might be? and if it's lengthy?

I do have a beastfolk masterlist here, it should contain nearly all posts I've written in beastfolk, I might need to update for any recent ones, but I'll have to check later. Check my other masterlists as well in my pinned post, in case maybe it wasn't a beastfolk.

Otherwise, I can only think of two?? But one isn't based on tournament of any kind, if you're talking about actually older fic. I did post one of a maned wolf based on the very same (kind of) tournament in the following link, fairly recently, but it's not an older fic. so I didn't link that one.

featuring snake with his darling, but they aren't considered an idol? though, yes, definitely a prize.

and

this one does feature an idol actress darling, but no tournament. It's kind of competitive though, in some senses.

edited: bonus, the full writing of the actor darling from above.

if these aren't either of what you're looking for, please lmk! i'll keep trying to help you ❤️ thanks for your kind words🩷 if one of them IS what you're looking for, I'll be happy to reblog!

[monstrouslyobsessed]

and have a happy new year~!

all i want for christmas is you

--a/n: i had a very busy december that i couldn't write a diddy dang thing until like...three days ago. this is a ‘short’ smutty sequel to the krampus one i did forever ago. tbf, i didn’t have a solid plan for any 'official' sequel for the ol' christmas devil, since his story is already told, but…this happened. 

just a plain ol’ smut.

side note: I tried to be inclusive with what holiday(s) the darling celebrates (if any), but it wounded up trickier than expected. still, i tried my best to keep vague past the mention of the dinner on the christmas eve (which i read can be inclusive since its just a date??). i also left out certain details, to keep the timeline vague.

back into the wintery grave i goooo, merry christmas, happy holidays, and happy new year!!! <3 —momster

→summary: this christmas eve, as every creature outside were stirring, you were content to be with him. blissfully oblivious to everything he had ever done to have you for himself.

→rating: explicit nsfw with a side slice of horror →pairing: krampus x afab!reader, no gendered language used →warnings: gore, multiple deaths, abusive family relationships/mention, past child abuse mention, drug induced amnesia, reader is an amnesiac, reader was a victim/scapegoat to family abuse, eating/food mentions (no explicit mentions of what diet the reader is on though)/the krampus is a meat eater, reader celebrates holiday, timey-wimey nonsense/purgatory, reader may (or may not) be pregnant, krampus is very manipulative, manipulative yandere →kinks/tags: (sort of) happy sex, rough sex, breeding kink, impregnation, size difference, big dick, inhuman/monster dick, inaccurate anatomy, stomach bulge, tetraphilia, exophilia →word count: 4.5k

→previous installment: here

source | unknown

all rights reserved to @monstrouslyobsessed.

Naughty children face punishment and often become orphans. As cruel as the Christmas Devil is, even he understands that the young are often foolish and ignorant of the consequences of their cruelty. Once satisfied with their penance and lessons learned, he sends them off, leaving them to suffer alone in the terrible cold, praying that fate will take pity on the lost child and guide them back to the light. If lucky, they may be discovered by kind people and welcomed warmly with open arms, their previous ways changed for the better, with a second chance at living an honorable life.

A life filled with grace and kindness, devoid of cruelty toward others.

Often, these naughty children are raised to be spoiled rotten to the core,  oblivious to their own ugliness toward the less fortunate—not by their own choice. The responsibility for raising such terrible children falls on their parents and guardians—and those the Devil often holds accountable in place of their young.

And, certainly, he rarely forgets to consider their other sins.

Such adults suffer a fate far worse than their children’s; their punishment never ends. The cycle of misery and torment begins once more with no end in sight until the Devil grows bored, abandoning their bodies to rot with their sins while their souls burn in eternity in his belly.

But for this?

For you? For all they had done to you? His little lamb, who did nothing but try over and over for years to appease those wretched sacks of rotting meat into loving you and constantly forgiving them? Even being devoured would be too good of a mercy for any of them.

The Krampus held a steady gaze through the snow-frosted window, watching with unenthusiastic disinterest as a scene unfolded beyond the white veil. His hot cocoa, a very tiny mug in his large furred palms, rose to his lips, as his keen amber eyes absorbed the miserable picture of your cold-hearted father screaming and pleading for his life with one of his faithful reindeer.

The reindeer, though it hardly resembled its more domesticated counterpart that his old jolly friend cherished so dearly, watched the sobbing man blankly. Its monstrous maw slowly stretched open, teeth impossibly long and sharp. With a single, resounding crunch, the father's cries stopped and his headless body kneeled over in the snow, staining the perfect white with his ugly red color.

The man's cycle would simply repeat before long, his fate doomed to suffer again and again, for his eternal hell.

His six-legged friend raised its head, with your father's blood painting its distorted muzzle dark, and met the Krampus' fiery eyes. It stood still, as if awaiting its command. It paid no mind to the howling blizzard, with the snow piling on its jagged back.

The Krampus simply sipped his ridiculous mug, his blink slow, and paid the creature no more attention. When he opened his eyes once more, the reindeer wandered away into the violent storm and any trace of your father's corpse had simply disappeared under the blanket of the blinding white.

Good riddance to the rubbish, as his old friend would say, over their usual exchange of strong alcohol.

Ah, his mug ran empty, the ancient beast tutted, and he uncoiled from his recliner for yet another refill. Raising his eyes to witness yet another bloody scene unfolding in the snow, this time with your sobbing mother and an aunt limping together through the tall trench of snow. Leaving behind a thick trail of blood, the aunt's missing an arm, their eyes wide with terror and white with frozen tears. A group of menacing snowmen, adorned with twisting branches for arms and knife-like icicles for claws, crawled after the two women.

None of them ever looked back at the Krampus, deadset on goring themselves upon their weeping prey’s fleshes.

Observing the way your mother shouldered the aunt with her gaping wound, it was apparent that she felt more empathy for her than for you—her own child. The very one she left abandoned in the blizzard, seeking refuge in the warmth of your family's mansion and standing alongside the rotten excuse of your father, under the false belief they were safe from the Krampus' wrath.

The Krampus snorted deafeningly, unimpressed with your mother's lack of maternal instincts and poor choices, the sound rumbling throughout his cozy home. His ears twitched upon realizing his action and he craned his neck at the telltale creaking in the floor.

He hadn't meant to be so loud, clicking his tongue as he heard familiar footsteps creeping along the staircase to find him in his little corner. Wiping your hands dry on your frilly apron, you brightened upon the sight of him lodging before his usual window. Curious, you approached your gentle giant and rested your chin on the crook of his thick arm. You smiled upon his return nuzzling on your head and hummed, "Are you watching the snow again, dear?"

"Aye, mine love, it is...calming for mine old soul."

"I'm not judging," you pressed your face against his bearded chin with a gentle sigh at his ever-imposing body heat. Unconsciously, you buried your face in his dark fur, lips pressing against his long neck, and rolled your tinier body into his welcoming embrace. "if it makes you happy, then I am happy."

A sudden splash of crimson splattered across the frozen window, but you remained unfazed in his arms, as if it were simply invisible to you. The Krampus' eyes softened as your gentle hands combed through his coarse fur. You relished in his comforting musk that washed over your smaller body like a quilt, drenching you in his scent.

A fine mix of cinnamon and pine, with a lovely hint of apple pie. To you, he smelled like Christmas.

Though, he was your entire world and you knew nothing else.

Humming, you roped your arms around the near-impossible stretch of his broad shoulders and reached to his large head to peck a kiss on his fissured lips. Giggling at the sensation of his bushy whiskers tickling your face, you tugged on his trailing beard. "Come on, the dinner's done."

Ignorant to the sudden wailing from outside the cabin, drowned out by the blizzard's low roar and the crackles of the fireplace, you hopped to the polished floor and pulled on your beastly husband's arms. "Hold thy patience, mine love, for I wendeth not to any other place."

Your adorable little pout and the following huffing reply merely made the Krampus chortle, deep and gravelly. Raising his head from his tiny lamb, he stretched tall and leveled his hooved hands above his horns to relax his old joints. Amused at your entertained giggle, he cracked his back—and surprised you when he dropped down to you with another kiss.

"Oh!" You laughed, resting your hands on the base of his curled horns, when the Krampus swung your tiny body into his arms and meshed his lips with yours again. A faint taste of his beloved hot cocoa spread on your tongue, as his large red appendage intertwined with yours, deepening the near-desperate kiss.

His thick fingers crept close to your nether region and hooked over your soaking folds through your warm clothes. When the Krampus pressed closer, nearly tearing through the triangle piece of fabric, you gasped and darted your hands to stop his wrist. Your face hot with lust, you sputtered, "D, dinner first, okay?" Your voice faltered as your beastly husband sighed into your mouth.

"Mine love, thine desire is impossible to deny--"

"I know," you squeaked when something hard and impossibly inhuman seared against your rear, "but I really worked hard on this dinner. It's Christmas Eve! Please?"

Your soft-spoken pleas had the Krampus shuddering, his unyielding flesh tenting his draping clothes. It took nearly all his willpower to refrain from drowning himself in your delectable curves, captivated by your shining, hopeful eyes. Inhaling a deep sigh, he marveled at just how beautiful you were, with the glows of the crackling fire from the hearth at his back painting your face with a warm, flickering radiance.

“Very well, but I shalt feast upon thine sweet flesh after.” He growled, nipping at your darting tongue and nearly nicking the soft swell of your lips with his needle-like teeth. Another shudder wracked him from within, when you teased his hidden girth with a purposeful press of your heels.

“Oh, I’ll hold you to that, my dear,” You purred, staring up at your husband’s elongated face in quiet wonder, with a shy, lustful smile on your lips. You quickly stressed upon feeling a sneaking finger creeping up your thighs, “but only after.”

The Krampus huffed, with an expression that vaguely reminded you of a sulking child denied their favorite toy. “Thou shalt regret tempting mine hunger for thine tight flesh, mine dear. Carry on,” he lowered you to your feet and erupted a gasp when he quickly hooked a thick finger between your supple cheeks and sunk into your soft folds, slicked with its creeping honey. He curled his tongue at how your dew quickly drenched his wandering digit and crooned, “entice mine lust further with thine prepared meal, and I shalt have thee for mine appetite evermore.”

Your breaths ran choppy, but before you could cave to your monstrous husband’s seduction, you whapped on his arm and huffily insisted, “After, after!”

Something rattled against the cabin outside, a tearful wail cut short within the vicious snowstorm. A fleshy tear echoed, accompanied by a garbled death choke, followed by a chorus of high-pitched giggles from beyond. For a fleeting moment, at the very edge of the Krampus’ peripheral vision, the shadow of a mechanical-looking creature marched past the window. It dragged along a segmented body, trailing long coiling entrails that once belonged to your uncle.

Yet, once again, you remained deaf to the terror outside your haven—unaware of what your husband had done in the name of vengeance for you.

With your memories of your past life erased, he saw no need to revisit any recollections that could shatter your new, happier reality. Your old family simply never existed for you, leaving you oblivious to their miserable eternal hell outside these wooden walls of what you believed was always your home.

This very home the Krampus designed just for you, is sealed within his realm, a place for both of you to celebrate a blissful eternity together.

You will forever remain ignorant of the true horror beyond your perfect world and the old monster’s intent to keep it that way. No, you will only know his insatiable hunger for your heart, soul, and body, to be consumed wholly and be refilled by his virility over and over.

You will know only his unconditional love—his and his only.

Peeling yourself off from his grip, you trotted past his amused smirk. Dark with heat from your head to your slippered feet, you nearly stomped and glared at the Krampus, “I’m planning a surprise for you tonight, so can you just please have some manners?”

“Oho, a surprise for me?” Intrigued, the ancient beast stroked his long beard as his pretty lamb scowled at him.

He halted briefly when you pivoted with a huff, raking his strange eyes over the bleeding handprint smeared down his window. Something smacked against the frosted glass and the Krampus scoffed at the fear-stricken face of some cousin of yours. Pleading through their mangled tongue, they hammered their soaked fists against his windows and begged for mercy.

“—!” They wailed your name, catching a brief glimpse of you beyond your beastly lover.

At your sudden confusion, the Krampus’ face twisted dark with unparalleled ire.

How dare they speak your name?

You heard no more of that strange ghostly whisper and shrugged. As you hurried away, narrowly missing the sight of your cousin’s fate to a set of gristly steel teeth of some grotesque abominable teddy bear. Its fur matted and stained with dark blotches, it retreated with its meal in its mouth into the sea of white snow, paying no heed to your calling for your husband.

The Krampus relaxed, savoring the sweet taste on his finger, and ignored the unsightly stain on his window.

His hooves clacked on the hardwood as he lumbered down the hall to the dining room. The aroma of cooked meat and roasted vegetables was strong, luring his attention from his more wanton appetite. With a blink, he paused at the picture-perfect table you had arranged for the evening and held back an impressed chuckle. With a steaming pan of holiday meat, there were various trays of vegetables and other homemade recipes from what little you could remember—

Though you never did question your knowledge with such an empty background.

A large bouquet of poinsettias stood in the center of the table, surrounded by lit candles that illuminated your hard work. His heavy throne-like chair was seated at the very head of the table, with strange and unnerving details etched and protruding from the woodwork. Your chair, on the other hand, was smaller and simpler, situated beside his. Both chairs waited to be occupied.

When he cast his gaze on the gorgeous arrangement, the Krampus could see the amount of effort you had put in for the holidays. All the decorations hung, the lighting dimmed just right, and the smell of cooking and sweets filling the air—none of it had gone amiss. Under your touch, his simple home—now your home—had been transformed and flourished under your care.

Stealing a quick peck on his cold nose, you gestured to the platters of food, eager for his verdict, and invited, “Enjoy your meal, dear.”

“Thou hast done wondrously, mine love,” the Krampus settled into the grandiose chair and sighed contently as you took your spot by his side. Lifting his gaze, he saw the rest of the chairs remaining empty and pondered just how soon both of you could fill them with his own brood. Your children would add more light to this hollow home—a perfect extension of his and your love, to this lonely realm.

Soon.

“What’s of mine surprise, mine love?” the Krampus wondered, amused by your narrowing gaze.

You huffed again, “After dinner. Good grief, you’re so impatient!”

How funny you are, he thought with a suppressed bout of laughter, to tell an immortal with an infinite amount of patience, to be such a thing. With a snort, the Krampus replied, “Mine impatience hath been due to thine seductive ways, mine sweet lamb.” He decorated his large plate with healthy portions of his meal and took a bite  to his awaiting teeth.

Your cheeks hot, you scoffed and helped yourself to a plate, “If only because you’re an impossibly horny old goat, dear.”

The Krampus did not refute your comment, content with relishing in the exquisite meal prepared by your loving hands. A peaceful moment fell the couple, with the sounds of crunching of bones between the old monster’s teeth and the quiet clangs of silverware from your hands. Absently, you wondered why it felt a little alien to you—but you were happy and felt so warm being with your husband, that this feeling was fleeting and soon gone.

It was better to forget how often you were yelled at at the family table, treated like vermin, and served scraps and spiked eggnog.

You hadn’t remembered how you ended up in the crook of the beast’s arm, raking your nails through his dark fur as you trembled to his skillful ministration. The Krampus teased you, sliding his thick fingers down the soaked fabric trenching your throbbing clit, and purred against your swollen lips, “Is this mine surprise, mine dear?”

The unfinished china plates and still warm foods were forgotten, as the Krampus leaned away from his diabolical chair and plunged his tongue into your inviting mouth. Oblivious to the way the burning candles illuminated him, casting a ghastly shadow over his warm features, he pressed his fingers deep into your wet folds and stretched the limits of the cottony material. The fabric rubbed coarsely against your aching bud, tormenting it until you nearly buckled in his unyielding arm, wailing against his intrusive tongue.

You held fast, gripping his fur as he pushed your underwear aside and sunk his fingers into your quivering entrance. With his large hand between your thighs, you were unable to close your legs completely, leaving you no choice but to accept his ravaging fingers into your pulsating walls. Low snarls escaped from his mouth and into yours as he continued his frenzied assault.

Hot tears of lust streamed down your cheeks as you feebly thrust back to meet his desperate pace, but to no avail. It only encouraged your husband to rut his unholy erection against your backside even faster. Whimpering and mewling, you licked his wicked teeth, unable to contain the pleasure that coiled tighter and tighter within your navel.

Until your last conscious thought ended in a white explosion.

Your pained gasp disrupted the fog of your climax, the sharp sensations of your clothes being torn and snapped off from your bare flesh so pronounced it left welts on your skin. As the stars spun in your eyes, you distinctly heard the chattering of falling metal and glass shattering. Then, in a blink, air rushed out from your lungs as you landed with a soft thud on your back.

You blinked and saw your husband towering over you, his eyes molten gold, burning with lust. His clothes rustled, the robe sliding off from his dense shoulders, and white clouds of hot breath bursting between his gritted teeth with each ragged exhale. His desire was impossible to miss, permeating even in his presence.

The Krampus showed no shame in how he consumed your entire body with his wild, hungry eyes, committing each mound and crease of your skin to memory. His feral expression, with the savage snarl wrinkling his muzzle and baring his dangerous teeth, both frightened and excited you.

“I shalt wait no longer,” he gritted out, his pants tightening against his straining erection. As his saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth and dripped onto your stomach, he tugged at the restrictive clothing strangling his cock, and murmured, “I shalt indulge mineself in thy womb tonight, mine love, and fillest thee until thy belly swells and thy voice grows hoarse with mine name on thy lips.”

His promise elicited a whiny breath from you, your skin flushed with unbearable heat. His true name tumbled from your lips as you arched your body in invitation, urging your monster closer. To claim you so utterly, bathing your fragile flesh with his sinful essence, until there was nothing of you left untouched.

You spread yourself open, offering your glistening cunt for him, ready to be possessed and to ravage—

“Thee wretched temptress shalt know no peace this eve!” The Krampus breathed in the scent of your arousal, filling his lungs with your sweet perfume, and roughly untied himself free. “Mine love, speak thy prayer, for I shall not yield.”

You mewled at the sight of him untucking his long belt of silver cords from his trousers, the tiny bells on his obsidian horns swaying with each movement of his head. The Krampus pulled his loosened waistband and out sprang his heavy cock, pulsating with ravenous lust for your heady sex.

The wintry chill on your exposed skin didn’t linger long as a scorching weight engulfed and settled atop your vulnerable body, flattening you onto the table. His immobile flesh slid between your split thighs, sawing into your dripping folds—its size impossibly thick and its colors as black as your husband’s ashen-dark pelt.

Like the crouching demon he was, the Krampus hovered over you and poised to impale you deep with his inhuman cock. You laid underneath his great body, no more than an innocent lamb being deflowered by its hungry predator once more, to be devoured whole. You shuddered and parted your thighs wider, beckoning his glistening flesh into your heat—to embrace him inside you.

"Thou shalt greet mine beast so happily, mine love," the Krampus sighed, slowly yet eagerly pushing his throbbing member into your slippery hole. He shuddered, relishing in the sound of your gasp—a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, as he stretched your tender pussy beyond its limits. “Thou art as tight as the first time we consummated our union.”

You curled against his broad chest, wrenching the fur on his chest tightly, and shrieked at his immense girth—his entire size reshaping your fluttering insides and penetrating so deep you could feel his veiny flesh scraping against the shell of your belly. But, oh, the way he built up that agonizing pressure within your womb by hitting his unnaturally perfect cock in just the right places had you convulsing madly around his violating, animalistic thrusts.

The Krampus’ testicles, as hard as stones, pelted your asscheeks from below, bruising your skin a lovely shade darker. His ruthless hips jerked your entire body with raw power, leaving you to struggle to keep up with his unforgiving pace. You clawed into his chest, wailing his name as he intensified his furious assaults. Each delicious drag of his cock scraping along your battered insides forced the air out of your lungs and rendered you incoherent.

Faintly, you heard yourself muttering his name, lost in the rapture of being dominated by your husband’s magnificent flesh.

"Yes, scream, for thou sweetest moans art but mine ears alone." The Krampus’ deep voice echoed within your ringing ears, his flared nostrils inhaling your heady scent deeper into his lungs. It excited him further, mercilessly slamming himself into you and driving the heavy table against the floor with a rhythmic beating.

One of his claws scarred the wood, containing his wants to leave his bloody marks on your malleable skin.

His breath, hot and heavy, briefly caressed your face before his tongue delved into your moaning mouth once more, tangling his slithering flesh with yours. Your numbed lips felt the vague ridges of his fissured mouth, his teeth nicking blood from your tongue as he drank you deeply and consumed what was left of your sanity with each piston of his demonic cock.

He never allowed you to breathe, leaving you nothing more than a gasping mass of wanton flesh, delusional with euphoric bliss. Refusing to spare you even for a second to quench the burning in your lungs, the Krampus jerked at the most intoxicating wail he had heard yet when he struck somewhere tender and buried deep.

You came undone, your cry breathless as your world exploded in white behind your shuttered eyes.

The jumbled moan rang in your ears as the old demon's weight flattened your trembling figure, burying himself to the hilt. His still cock pulsated, warming your aching insides in tingling waves. The Krampus ripped away from your swollen lips with another choked groan.

Oblivious to his large head pressing against yours and his coarse fur jagged against your drenched skin, you finally gasped for that sweet taste of oxygen. His faint name tumbled from your throat, but it was lost under his thunderous snarl. You arched against his body as a sudden surge of heat burst inside your core, losing your breath once more.

His cock pulled you apart from within, his virile seed flooding your womb to the brink of its capacity, and what little escaped trailed down the sides of your bruised asscheeks in milky rivulets. The Krampus was content to remain atop your tiny body, his bulk keeping you prisoner, as his heaving chest slowed and eased the tightness in his breathing.

Weakly, you writhed and felt every sensitive inch of the Krampus’ girth rooted inside your walls—hard and immovable, and shuddered at the way his long fur teased your swollen teats. Somehow, you found little strength to weave your fingers through his dark pelt and mumble his true name once more.

The Krampus lifted his heavy frame, a familiar smolder reigniting within his golden gaze, and adored each ravaged detail on your delicate body. He raked down to your rounded belly and shuddered in satisfaction for his debauched deeds, having seeded your womb thoroughly. He stroked a claw over your stretched navel and promised amidst your slight whimpering, “Soon, thy flesh will swell with mine brood—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat at his declaration, lifting a weak hand and palmed the faint outline of his erection under your skin. Brushing your fingertips to your monster’s talons, you mumbled, “I’m looking forward to it, dear.”

You were not prepared for the sudden storm within his irises, howling at the sharp snap of his jutting hips. Briefly, your world stormed into a blur, and then you heard a slight thud. Blinking at the slow, seductive drags of his claws down your split thighs, you saw yourself straddling the Krampus’ wide lap and keened.

His wicked smirk stretched across his lips when he heard your whining voice, his kneading palms massaging at the meat of your legs. He made himself comfortable in his chair, content to just watch your expression distort with mindless pleasure. He rolled his hips and sighed at how delicious you felt on him, growling, “Mine lamb…”

You whimpered over his shallow thrusts, so slow it was painful.

Even feeling the gravity of his generous seed spilling down your inner thighs did nothing to soothe the growing need to have him impale you once more with his monstrous flesh. To let him drown your raw insides with his seed over and over—

“I shalt allow thee a brief respite, mine love,” the Krampus rumbled, pinning you to his root and frothing the white residues to the dark tuft of his fur. “But do not fret—thee shalt not know a moment’s peace under mine loins this night.” He relished your needy cries, enjoying the way you writhed upon his rigid cock. The ancient monster chuckled darkly, "Now, pray tell…what art the gift thou had made for thy old beast as I?"

Slacking your too-heavy body against his welcoming embrace, you gasped a small laugh at the ridiculous timing for the Krampus to remember your surprise. Flustered, you mumbled into his lips, “It…can wait ‘til…tomorrow—”

“Thee temptress!” He flicked his tongue at your teeth, chortling at your mewling protests, and kneaded your ass. Rotating your tiny body on his straining cock, he easily spanned one hand across your waist and pumped you like a toy, leaving you defenseless and boneless to his lusty whims. The way he bounced you on his hips elicited choked sobs, and he stilled upon the carnal hunger in your wet eyes.

Stretching a thumb to circle your hard clit, the Krampus growled softly, “Shalt thou keep the truth from mine eyes forever, dear lamb?”

“T, this, this is,” you rasped, somehow managing to string together enough coherent words to answer his rumbling demand. Clutching onto his bushy shoulders, and with your thighs seizing from overstimulation, you wept and pleaded, “b, better! T, too b, busy t, oh! Show you!”

 “Is that so?” His sinister chuckles ghosted over your lips as the old demon hummed in thought. Resuming his thrusts, he relished the way your cunt swallowed every inch of his manhood and crooned, “Mine fault, then, for being impatient—for thee, I shalt wait—and ravish thy most delectable body until dawn.”

Whatever thought you had left fled, and you sang praises, collapsing to his demands, and surrendered.

For tomorrow, he’ll receive his gift you promised, and celebrate the day together.

But for tonight?

All you ever needed for Christmas was this—to be held and cherished by your beloved devil.

To remain in blissful ignorance of his vengeance and bask in the lies he so lovingly crafted.

—end

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Hiii, I saw your new post and just wanted to tell you that you can take all the time you need! We're getting lovely content for free! It would be quite rude for us to demand you post once a week or something. Writing is hard, very hard and the fact that you're sharing your writing with the world is already doing the universe a favour.

I hope your life goes well this year, and I'm so sorry for the long wall of text. Happy Holidays! I hope you have a lovely day :D

(I swear if I have to write this again, this'll be the 4th time this week)

💕ah tysm! youre so sweet❤️❤️

i just feel terrible because i do want to write and make content, but when i do try to write, i wound up being unsatisfied with the progress and get stuck in a loop. hopefully i'll get better with my self confidence in 2025 and learn how to stop giving a fuck (or half of, considering my desire to ensure a level of quality even with me being esl and inability to get a grasp on certain tenses). i'd love to write a short novel too, but that'd require a lot of commitment that i'm not sure i'd be capable of, lol. plus, i just love you guys, even if im terrible at engaging.

i love me a wall of text so have at it, haha! you too! may you have good holidays and a happy start of 2025 ❤️

[monstrouslyobsessed]

did you get what you wanted for christmas?♥️

Not Every Christmas Wish is a Miracle

→a/n: merry (super super super belated) christmas! please enjoy getting fucked by the christmas devil himself <3 life nearly beheaded me but that’s adulthood for you. anyway, hope you beautiful nerds don’t mind me back on my usual kinky bullshits lol now to disappear back inside my grave…

→summary: be careful what you wish for. it might just come true…

→rating: explicit nsfw, noncon, horror →pairing: krampus x fem!reader →warnings: noncon, gore, vomit, deaths, implied abusive family relationships, abuse, implied past child abuse, drug induced amnesia →kinks/tags: thighjob, aphrodisiac/sex pollen, rough sex, breeding kink, impregnation, size difference, big dick, inhuman/monster dick, inaccurate anatomy, stomach bulge, tetraphilia, exophilia →word count: 7.8k, edited by @watch-out-for-them​

source | unknown

🎄please do not feature/use my works without my explicit permission🎅

Keep reading

[monstrouslyobsessed]

—all rights reserved to @monstrouslyobsessed​, krampus is saying happy holidays to the viewers with his tiny mug. :) a rough doodle to introduce my letter.

i really have no idea how to start this letter so i'll just...start, I suppose!

2024 has been a tremendous year for me in ways i would never wish on my own worst enemy and it has certainly impacted my writing and its flows. on the one hand, i am proud of what i have created for myself and for others and that i have definitely enjoyed most of these said creations, but on the other hand, i have had many regrets with my writing.

i regretted that i couldn't keep my promises to create more content here and i was so disappointed in myself for that. i have so many ideas and desires to expand my au's and original characters--yet i had zero motivation to do so. i had so many regrets about 2024, honestly.

but what i never regretted was starting my blog here, and i am grateful for each and every one of you for giving me a chance as a writer, and for making me a better writer. hopefully 2025 will see more of me here, and i hope to see you all along for the ride with me, no matter what comes may.

thank you for being here ♥️ and may you all have the happiest of holidays!

with a lot of loves,

Momster♥️

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Hey, I have a question…. If the darling reader of Dilf fox wanted an abortion would her let to do this?

Even the baby don’t having any heath issues.

I’m asking this because poor reader already has to take care of 3 young children lol

i couldn't remember if i did answer an ask similar to this one. ah, well, i'll answer anyway

so unless there's something wrong with either/or the baby or his darling, papa fox would not allow any autonomy about that front, no. he'd be on top of it if the pregnancy is affecting his darling physically in any major way (mentally is...unfortunately another story).

and there are many beastfolks who are for having a big family anyway. fangedfolks are among those who loves having a big litter/pack, albeit it's more difficult to achieve with their afab human spouses. the highest and safest number commonly accepted by professionals (at least in the modern era) is generally twins. anymore than that is highly encouraged to be...medically subtracted, so to speak.

honestly though, i don't think papa fox would complain if he only gets one from his darling. they can always make more later anyway~and the way he sees it, more time for them. wink wink nudge.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

hi I just wanted to know when will we see part two of not always a mericale, you know krampus, please let us know

please check my masterlists.

[link]

[monstrouslyobsessed]

stop censoring your tags!

normally, i don't like to write these kinds of posts, but i kept seeing a certain issue on this site—a very worrying issue, that genuinely upset me to a degree.

if you do any of the followings below

all are edited to protect their privacy and are only meant to be used as examples, so please do not look for those responsible!

please stop. i am begging on my knees for you to stop.

the whole point of using trigger warnings (TWs) is for other people to filter them out from their dashboards. what you're doing is putting more burden on your readers to add unnecessary tags to their filter list. you're also running the risk of triggering your followers and viewers.

even if your hashtags are uncensored, there's always a chance of missing one that was already listed in the introduction—especially with the limit of 25 tags. most filter lists i've tested consider what's already in the post too, even if it's untagged.

plus, any accessibility tool the reader may be using (such as screen reader and translator) may not be able to read the censored tags! considering that the (presumably uncensored) hashtags are at the very end of the post, these tools won't read the said hashtags until that point, making any initial warning moot if they are impossible to read or translate.

please keep your TWs as is, without all the excessive censoring.

tumblr is NOT tiktok or facebook. tumblr does not look for your posts to censor them (unless it's imagery) and/or to ban you off the site. as long as it is properly marked as mature, tumblr literally does not care and even said they are okay with any written post being explicit [link]. i am begging you, for the sake of people here, to properly tag your works PLAINLY.

DO NOT DO THESE: #tr!gg3r w4rn1ng, #c10ud$, #𝔭𝔢𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔶, etc. for the hashtags at the bottom.

these does NOT work with the filter, regardless of where they are in the post.

DO USE THESE: #trigger warning, #clouds, #pet the puppy, etc. even with #tw (ex. #tw pet the puppy) is fine too!

i included a link below which give a more in-depth explanation about how using #tw (insert trigger) is okay.

once again, while i know that tagging trigger warnings as is may seem like something you could get flagged for, it is not. tumblr's tagging system exists so that people can easily filter out content that they are not comfortable with.

by censoring your tags or content, you are actually making it harder for people to navigate through tumblr, as your censored tags or content do not work with the filter.

i encourage you to please think about how your content and tags may negatively affect others when they are censored.

the only exception i know of that would've impacted the visibility of your post(s) is the use of n'sfw due to the widespread abuses via the pron bots (and we all know how wonderful of a job the tumblrs staffs are doing to combat that issue /s). however, that's often easy enough to bypass via using examples such as, 'not safe for work', 'not sfw', 'n/sfw', etc. i personally recommend you to experiment to see which would work the best for you. generally though, they all should be fine/safe to use and be picked up by the accessibility tools at least decently.

additionally, on a still related note, please be consistent with your colors, sizes, and formats in your writing, especially in your heading area with tags and other important notes. we do have readers with vision and sensory issues who would not appreciate reading contents with too many colors and an excessive amount of bold and italics.

simplicity is best. consistency is excellent.

if it's something like the following,

CAUTION: trigger warnings, pet the puppy, handholding, clouds

that is, in my opinion, fine. personally, i'm okay with one or two bolded TW's to especially emphasize the major warnings, but not all of them. everyone have their preferences; however, again, i must stress the importance of simplicity and consistency for easy and smooth reading, especially for most readers, and it helps with accessibility too.

just please don't do what the first screenshot did (red and green texts). the inconsistency in sizing and coloring, like the aforementioned example, makes it hard to read and harder to enjoy.

lastly, please tag your works properly! a friend of mine was understandably upset when they ran into a content with an untagged trigger. the whole point of tagging is to allow everyone to curate their internet experience. it's considered extremely rude not to tag your works appropriately, especially with major trigger warnings. if it contains non/con, tag it. if it includes in/cest, tag it.

please. be kind to your readers and tag your works properly and clearly.

that is all.

thank you.

other useful links for tags

https://bihelel.tumblr.com/post/627963320709906432/how-to-properly-tag-trigger-warnings the in-depth explanation of tagging system https://trigger-warnings.tumblr.com/tags/ it is not a *complete* list of common TW's, but it's still a good handy guide to have on hand and it's pretty comprehensive.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

—all rights reserved to @monstrouslyobsessed​, a mini series of my latest n.sfw doodles featuring the Galian Beast from FF7r doing 'things' to its darling. it is sadly cropped due to the site's restrictions.

hi im still alive, yes. just very creativity drained. i managed to doodle a proper monster fucker content though! proper credit to @crisiscutie for being an enabler. anyway, about this piece, i may post the full thing somewhere else some other day, but we'll see lol it does feature a biggus dickus though alongside my usual faves. was deep in the trench of ff7 characters lately, so many sexy monsters....it def inspired this silly doodle lol.

ngl am a bit tempted to write a piece on the galian beast too! so we'll see how my energy level is~

hopefully yall do enjoy what little i gave ya <3 take careeee

[monstrouslyobsessed]

note: i can't stop thinking about this. hope you're okay with me doing a snippet! it's a little bit different than i initially intended, but…well, this is more of a possible backstory that led up to the whole Nibelheim aftermath the lovely ashe implied above, feel free to take away or add on to this! <3 yeah its a bit messy but i havent really written anything in ages so....i weep for my soul. hope yall enjoyed anyway tho!!!

cws: reader is gn and is on the older side (apx. late 30s to 40s). they currently have their youngest as toddler-aged. the reader is implied to have multiple children with their spouse. the said spouse has no mentioned pronoun. stalking. reader's pov, isn't 100% a reliable narrator. have multiple minor flashbacks. implied pseudo incestual feelings on Sephiroth's part (between the lines) and abuses (from others, on Sephiroth and a little bit on reader). huge 18+ years age gap. general yandere themes. not beta edited. long post under the cut. SFW.

Something was wrong.

You paused at the sudden itch in the nape of your neck, interrupting the conversation you were having with your longtime spouse. The toddler squirmed in your arms, unsettled by your silence. Or perhaps your daughter sensed something was off, too.

You weren't sure.

"—?" your partner's voice brought you out of your worried trance, the sound of your name a soothing balm to your nerves.

"—aaaa!" The itching stopped as soon as your daughter squealed, tugging at the collar of your shirt for your attention.

You shook your head with a weak chuckle, managing to sneak a scratch through your hair. As you plied your child's hand loose from your shirt. "I'm fine. Just thought of something silly." you reassured them, retaining the urge to choke from the baby's annoyed pulling.

"Silly?" your partner's brow raised high, not oblivious to the slight shift in your seat. "Wanna share what's silly to you?"

You waved them off, already chuckling. "It's just something I'll worry about later." Leaning against the back of your cushioned seat, you bounced your thigh to entertain your baby and released a long sigh. "It's really nice to be home after so long though, so it'll take me a minute to turn off the work mode out of my brain."

You were quiet for a moment, pondering. Regretting.

“I’m going to miss the kid,” you admitted—though you couldn’t say who, because of the strict NDAs you’d signed over 18 years ago. All your partner knew was that it was some rich kid you had been nannying since near birth—and for their and your family’s sake, it was better that everyone stayed in the dark. You brought home extremely good money, and that was enough to abate most questions.

None of them needed to know that you were the personal caretaker of the ShinRa's most invested experiment to date: Sephiroth. You also aided the company in raising a few other children—but Sephiroth had been your main charge for nearly two decades. He was both the easiest—and the most difficult.

Although he was mostly quiet from birth, he still had frequent episodes. Some were worse than others, but you took it all in your stride; he was a lonely kid with no other parent but you. For a decade you had been his whole world—and you were already exhausted halfway in. While he had many teachers for his education, it was part of your duties to ensure that he remembered his lessons and to fill his emotional needs.

You quietened again, nuzzling into your partner's hair as memories and regrets flooded your mind.

You were barely 18 yourself when you applied for a nanny job—it was just a slight notice pinned to a bulletin board in a grocery store in the small town where you grew up. You were good with children, and it seemed promising enough, especially with the scarily high salary.

In hindsight, the triple-digits hourly wage should have been the first red flag—but you were just a naïve runt then, trying to spread your wings for the first time and fly away from the nest. You remembered how alarmed you were when a few men in black suits showed up on your doorstep and all but marched you away from your confused parents and stuffed you into an extravagant vehicle (it was luxurious for its time and much sought after now, but you remembered hating its stiffness, unable to lean back properly without feeling crunched).

Gods, you could laugh looking back now, but you were scared stiff and near tears when they drove you a few hours away to the damn Midgar. It was practically a kidnapping, as none of these gentlemen would spare a single detail to you. Their lips were sealed shut and you quickly learned to shut up too, when one of them flashed you their congealed gun under their jacket out of annoyance.

It was impressive that you hadn't screamed in terror even once the entire duration there. On arrival, you vividly remembered collapsing in your chair when the President (he was a spindly man back then, but by the Planet, he was so greasy to begin with) declared that you had been hired on the spot to look after the most important kid in the world. Your self-control—or perhaps, self-preservation impressed even you.

Now, how were you supposed to know that tiny piece of paper was from the ShinRa, one of the biggest conglomerates in the world?

If you'd known then, you might have refused to even look at it.

Admittedly, you would still bite the hook, regardless. It was hard to turn down so many numbers in that dollar sign. You could afford to pay off your parents' debts and even take them on that vacation in the Costa Del Sol you had promised them years before with the salary they offered alone—nevermind the annual bonus. A few NDAs and an 18-year contact later, the President sent you on your way to care for this strange-looking kid who slept in the coldest lab you've ever been in.

A heavy burden of responsibility pushed upon a barely-adult like you…

It was a daunting experience, but not one you'd ever say you regretted. When you first laid your eyes on Sephiroth, he was a tiny, writhing thing, crying out for any physical contact he was constantly denied from. Something that no baby should ever be rejected from (especially when it could even lead to their death!)—but none, save you, had been willing to give him an ounce of love.

You never understood why everyone else feared him. He was a bit strange looking, sure, with snow-white hair and alien green eyes, but to you, he was still just a baby in need. So you took him in and loved him as if he was your own child. He was so, so, so…

vibrantly responsive to every single physical affection you gave him.

He was so hungry even for a simple hug, a few kind words, a gentle kiss, a smile—when he learned to walk he was like a duckling, following you everywhere you went. You woke up early for him, fixed his food under the strict regiment (you tried your best to make everything consumable and unique, and fought tirelessly with the authorities to expose him to more variety; using arguments to avoid developing allergies had been your key tactic), played games with him, changed his diapers—you'd done everything for him, and he'd mirrored your every action and even your slightest habit.

He was obsessed—but you thought that was normal for his age. All the children you knew had declared their desire to marry their parents, for their parents had been their whole world. He’d grow out of it, eventually.

(You still think so, even though his affections toward you have waned. But, the way his searing jade-green eyes would sometimes look at you unnerves you to this day.)

Your heart ached for him and the life he would soon lead. Sephiroth was a lab child from birth, poked and prodded with countless needles, and you were just…an ordinary citizen who knew how to handle children. You had no experience with weapons or magical tools like Materias, nor did you have any potential with them. You were helpless and you couldn't even save him from his inevitable fate as the world's favorite labrat.

All you could do was to comfort him and be there for him.

You endured even through his most dangerous meltdown, sporting several broken bones and injuries, until he grew old enough to realize the damage he was doing to you and learned to retain his strengths. Despite his best efforts and apologies, the scores of scars on your skin continued to grow. It was your tenacity and Sephiroth's attachment to you that made your superiors think twice about letting you go before your contract was up. Many others would've left the first time they'd gotten a broken arm from handling kids like Sephiroth.

You were probably incredibly stupid, but the last thing you wanted to do was to break that lonely kid's shattered heart any further.

("Don't ever leave me!" he would often scream, his little hands scratching into yours, as you struggled to contain him—to hug him. "You're not leaving me! No!")

When ShinRa finally decided it was time to start grooming Sephiroth as their strongest SOLDIER at the age of 7, you could breathe a little easier. You had a bit more free time—and soon met the love of your life in a chance encounter at your favorite cafe. It was a quick lunch break, and you were desperate for a breath of fresh air from the stuffy room you shared with Sephiroth and your other duties of stockpiling lessons from his teachers.

If you hadn't applied for that job posting, you would never have met your beloved spouse.

Everything in your life had led you here, to this house and this place. With a family. A full home and a full heart—all because of Sephiroth, and you owed him a life of gratitude.

If it wasn't for him, you probably wouldn't be where you were now.

("If it wasn't for you…" Sephiroth trailed off, leaving you completely confusion as of why he said anything at all. He was barely a teenager.)

It was a shame that it was considered a fireable offense if you shared your love life with Sephiroth. He might have loved your partner too, maybe. It was even more of a shame that you couldn't brag about how wonderful your silver-haired child was with your spouse, but you quickly learned to separate your work from your personal life. Hiding that you'd had a family of your own from him was a feat that deserved a gold medal for best lying.

Although it had helped when Sephiroth himself had to be taken away for months at a time for rigorous training. He had no idea that you even had a life outside of him, just a few basic facts that you still had a living set of parents (which he only learned because it was a lesson regarding a common family hierarchy) and that you had some bills to pay (it was a math lesson, though he did inquire about it years later when he became a teenager seeing the discrepancies between your living with him when there were no bills and your initial comments).

("…you looked different." Sephiroth eyed you critically. Knowing better than to divulge details of how exhausting having a baby was, you laughed at his unsolicited comment. "You think so? Maybe I've kept myself a little too busy in your absence. So! How was your training?" He never really believed you, of course, but accepted with a nod).

Nothing that would have truly upset your superiors beyond some ruffled feathers—some personal facts had been inevitable in your 18 years of servitude to this special child. The rest of your private life, however, had stayed a secret from him. No parent should have felt so guilty withholding such truths from other children they'd loved so dearly—but you'd always known that you were only meant to be temporary in Sephiroth's life. Knowing that it was but a contracted lie helped quieten the guilt a little.

But, you still had your regrets and plenty of what-ifs.

("…If I took you away, where would you want to be?" You asked one day. Sephiroth paused in his eating, a bit of spicy noodles dangling from his chopsticks. He barely blinked as his answer came quickly. "As long as I'm with you, I'd be…content." You thought how strange his answer was and decided not to ask him any more questions like that. You refused to admit to yourself how much he annoyed you sometimes).

You loved him as your own, and the number of times you found yourself wishing you could spirit him away to join your family as the oldest brother was heartbreaking. Your children would've loved him—looked up to him and demanded for his affection in return. It hurt so much to leave him in the dark—

and it was still so painful that you had to leave him so soon, so quickly, without another word.

("I promise, you'll see me again tomorrow." You tried to reassure him, finding it difficult to endure his angry glare—and his growing fingers slicing through your arms. "I know you don't like all this poking, but I'll be right here when you wake up." At that, he relented with a sharp line of his tiny lips and a quiet demand. "…You promise?" "Yes. I'll never leave you alone, okay?" His thin fingers were draped in red as he released you with a firm nod. "Okay." You dreaded the day when you would have to break your promise a decade later, but for now, you vowed to keep your words as long as you could.)

In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a waddling duckling, attentive to your gentle love and kind words, to an independent adult chasing his own dreams completely free of your involvement. Whatever dream he may have, you'd happily support—but with a painful sigh, it would have to be from a distance.

You were already letting him go—he already had years ago, you felt.

("…You're not leaving me." You thought you heard him saying one day, just a few days shy of his sixteenth birthday. You pivoted and blinked at the frighteningly tall male, "—? Did you say something, Sephiroth?" He never replied, only breezed past you.)

Despite his curious inquiries and his insistence on keeping you by his side, the two of you barely saw each other.

Even on his 18th birthday, you only saw him in passing—barely long enough to hand over his favorite homemade sweet he'd always loved since his childhood. Sephiroth was never a materialistic individual, and while he did have a few prized possessions, they were few and far between. Truthfully, you blamed the higher-ups for disposing nearly of all of his beloved treasures from behind his back and yours.

("…Where are our drawings?" Sephiroth whispered in dismay at the sight of the bare surface of the fridge. "We worked so hard on them…" "Such unnecessary trinkets. They've been disposed of," a man in a white jacket said coolly. He'd left before you could even think about suckerpunching his creepily long face. "Oh." The boy never looked so small before in your eyes and he felt smaller in your arms.)

It was no wonder that the kid was so…broken.

Despite all of your effort to love him, it hadn't been enough to protect him from the cruelty of others and of the world itself. Behind the closed doors, countless tears had been shed—at least until they punished the crying out of him and you never saw him cry again. Instead, a mask of aloofness replaced his tears—and you were one of the few privileged to see him smile or frown, no matter how slight his expression.

You loved him dearly, enough, you hoped, to replace his missing mother.

("I think you're a far better parent than my mother ever was." Sephiroth concluded one day. He was several inches taller than you, but still so spindly, so skinny, even for a SOLDIER in training. You took it as a compliment and smiled at his comment. "You think so?" "Maybe even better." The glow in his eyes, though, had unsettled you.)

But you too will disappear—

you already had

—and it hurts more than you would ever admit.

With a pained grimace, you looked at your cooing daughter, now distracted by the cartoon on the expensive television. Absently, you ran your fingers through her fine hair, toying with the strands. A habit you'd developed to comfort Sephiroth without arousing the ire of your ever-watchful superiors.

You'd braid his growing hair, using the excuse that it was unruly from his training. That was until one of his terrible teachers cut it off as a punishment for his supposed disobedience or another. It took years for his hair to grow back—only for the same teacher to repeat the same punishment.

It was devastating not to be able to sneak your loving words to him—and he was hurt too, hiding his pain behind his long bangs.

("Oh, your beautiful hair…" It hurt to even hold a pair of scissors, your hands shaking as you fought both the growing anger and the tears from spilling forth. It was a struggle trying to even out his cut, his split strands feeling wrong through your fingers. Sephiroth stiffened, the leathers of his gloves pulled taut in his hands, and looked over his shoulder at you in wonder. "You…like my hair?" You nodded with a choked smile. "Long hair suits you well." "I…see. I'll remember that. Thank you.")

To imagine that the very cake you'd made was the very last gift you could've given to him…

You fought back a wince of pain from appearing on your face in front of your daughter's wide-eyed curiosity.

"—aaaa?" She poked at your plunging lips.

You laughed, though your voice was breathy and devoid of your usual warmth, and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I'm fine, little love. Oh," you pretended to see a funny clip of her cartoon of a black moogle character dashing away from the group of colorfully dressed heroes, "No! Noogle will escape the Justice Moogs again!"

At that, your daughter pivoted to her show with a gasp of outrage.

The slight sound of relief, mixed with a little sadness, left your chest as you sank against your spouse's shoulder, weary with exhaustion and melancholy. What else could you have done for that boy?

You were grateful to be able to give him anything at all for his birthday. The way he held it, as if it were gold, was the most sentimental look you'd ever seen from him. It was a welcome—and the most painful, break from the cold, formal expression he'd often give you before he was called away to some formal gathering to congratulate him on his entry into his adulthood. An event to which you were never invited.

—not that you were ever invited to many, if any, of the events surrounding his growth.

("Why didn't you come to the party?" Sephiroth refused to look at you, though he never fought your touches as you worked to undo his suffocating jacket. He was getting taller again, you wondered absently, as you tugged at the fabric. When you stalled too long to answer his question, you caught his exasperated breath and sighed. "I was never invited, Sephiroth." They never told you to lie about not being invited. "…That's ridiculous." "It is what it is." Noticing the stiffness in his shoulders, you hastened to reassure him, "If it helps, I don't care for these stuffy events. Too judgmental for my taste." His hissing annoyance creased and he looked at you again. With a tilt of his head, Sephiroth accepted your answer with a comment: "Well, I suppose that's better—I wouldn't want to share you anyway.)

Still, you wished you could've hugged him one last time before erasing all traces of your existence from his life, as ordered by his superiors. The only thing you'd managed to smuggle home was a photograph you'd taken of him singing a happy birthday song over a simple cake when he turned 5. It was the only thing you had left of him, of the fact that you'd loved him from birth—and for legal reasons you even had to hide that like an ugly secret from your spouse.

You weren't even allowed to say a goodbye.

Gods, you wanted to cry.

You had mastered the art of stoicism years ago from others for Sephiroth's sake—but your spouse had always been uncannily sharp with you.

"It's okay to miss your kid," came your partner's soft voice. Their head rested heavier on yours, as they continued, "it's pretty normal, I think—you practically raised them."

They truly had no idea how much of a hand you had in raising Sephiroth.

("…What does 'pride and joy' mean anyway?" Sephiroth kicked his feet off his still swing. You halted your swing, slid your feet through the artificial mulch, and allowed his question to sink into your ears. "Pride and joy…? Was that from the book you're reading now?" At his nod, you hummed with a thoughtful look on your face. Clapping your hands on your thighs, you patiently explained, "Well, it's something—or even someone that brings you a great deal of happiness. You'd feel very proud and really appreciated into having it with you." "…Do you have a 'pride and joy' then?" Sephiroth's steady eyes looked expectant and his grip on the ropes tightened. You grinned, "Yes. You.")

"That I did." you murmured, rubbing a circle on your little girl's back, as you watched the characters finally trap the main villain. "They don't need me anymore, so it's okay. They'll be fine no matter what they do. Besides," a smile curled your lips, "I'm needed elsewhere now."

As soon as the last word left your tongue, a faint rustle came from outside the window. You blinked, diverting your attention and missing the first few words out of your better half's mouth, oblivious to your paranoia from their distraction to your daughter's grumbling complaint about the ending of her episode.

The odd itch, once a faint shadow of discomfort, niggled from the back of your brain.

"—ly," the vibration rumbled through your spouse's body as they giggled and turned their attention back to you. Their laugh faded upon seeing your expression, "What's up?"

It was too brief for you to see, too fast that it was nothing but a blur, but you could've sworn that the shadow was distinctly humanoid. Quickly, you passed your daughter off to your spouse and hurried off the couch, grabbing the small gun from behind a bookcase on the way to the door. Plopping your gun against your wrist, deftly pushing in new bullets in the barrels, you steeled yourself with a grit of your teeth.

You slammed the door open.

Nothing. You searched the perimeter, ears tuned to the silence.

Had it been your imagination?

Once again, you scoured throughout your empty backyard.

Again, you were met with nothing.

Relaxing your grip, you neared the window of where you saw the strange shadow.

A patch of earth was trampled, the green blades of grass flattened with no obvious footprints, and the bush bent and torn. The back of your neck grew stiff. It was not your imagination.

Someone was there, watching you and your family.

And there were stripes in the shape of fingers dug through the windowsills.

A sense of dread loomed in your mind.

"Dear?" your spouse slowly emerged from the door.

For reasons beyond your understanding, you turned back with a smile and lied through your teeth, "It's nothing."

Your stomach curdled with the same discomfort you'd experienced for time and time again with Sephiroth.

—end

(edited as oh nov 17 2024 for gendered language, i was p tired when i last proofread. sorry!)

I propose an idea. Sephiroth, barely turned adult, snuck out from his tightly secured home to find his caretaker (his "parental"/"mother" figure) he'd been obsessed with for years, maybe planning an 'ambush'? and learned that they were with a partner he didn't know about. Might've even had a family with them!

Boy, he'd be furious.

Yes! The "betrayal" (in his eyes) would be their ultimate sin. How could they? To built up such relationship with Sephiroth, ever since he was a mere boy. His world shatters when this revelation comes out of the left field. And it's not like they talked much about their life outside of him whenever they were on their job. They were solely focused on him. Making sure he got the proper nurture, care and affection one would need growing up. Technically, they did everything right.

Maybe too "right". Because now, Sephiroth felt like they were bound to him and him alone. And it should stay that way. His struggle to block out the dark thoughts only grew over time. Those Jenova instincts clawing at his mind to force him to acknowledge his dominance over them. How easy it could be. But he had to hold himself back. Keep the mask on for a bit longer so his perfect plan to get what he wants will come to fruition.

And his dear caretaker sensed there was something off about Sephiroth. How every affectionate touch they normally shared (in privacy) lingers a bit longer. And the subtle hesitancy in his body language whenever Sephiroth forces himself to pull away. And there's that slight dark shift in his pupils whenever someone steals their attention from him. They've brush it off, attributing to Sephiroth being in his typical grouchy mood.

They just have no idea of what's to come when they go to Nibelheim with Sephiroth...

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Don't.

You'll be okay.

Just hang tight. Stay with your favorite people. Cuddle with your little creatures. Engage in your hobbies you've been neglecting for a while. Play a game that's just got a huge update. Eat the treats you deserve. Drink your drinks you've been wanting for a while. Visit the places you've been eyeing to try. Read books borrowed from your local library. Watch movies you regret postponing.

Stay off the social media sites. They're all a toxic cesspool right now and they will be for a long while. They're not worth thinking about. Maybe it's time to leave these places for your own well being?

Breathe.

You'll be okay.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

—numbers

requests: 3, closed.

I’m curious,can you tell what requests you have? Sorry if that’s rude

UHHHHH that might've been outdated because i can't remember rip i'm fairly sure one of them is papa bull related and one is maybe a continuation of pyramid head/the butcher? or maybe one of my tyrant? idk for sure, sorry. they might still be there in my inbox, but i'm not mentally all there to dig that deep atm.

(MANIFESTING FOR A GOOD NOVEMBER HERE....sobs)

the request'd been closed forever because doing long form writing, even commissions, are taxing on me and i don't wish to bring anyone's hopes up for being a slow snail writer :')

[monstrouslyobsessed]

welcome home

—you inherited a strange mansion you vaguely remembered visiting in childhood. you were excited to start a new life, but, now, from the way the lone statue perched on the roof seemed to be watching you, you weren’t so sure anymore.

—a/n: happy (belated) halloween! this had been requested forever ago, though not as a concept but as a smutty headcanon. but it had been stuck in my brain since seeing it—so...introducing the...gargoyle!

—tw / tags: gn reader, implied confinement / isolation, implied mind control(?), implied possible grooming (from the monster), implied teratophilia, implied exophilia, general yandere themes, long post, uncut post, sfw.

—featured character(s): gargoyle, the unnamed uncle

“What happened to those two?” you wondered aloud, balancing the stack of boxes in your arms as you gestured with your chin towards the two headless statues perched atop the pillars of the front gate.

Your uncle cleared his throat, hesitating slightly at the sight of them through the tall, ornate window, “That’s a...good question,” he laughed, his voice trailing off.

You glanced up only to see the back of his grey head, your boxes successfully placed on the floor, eyebrows arched high. “Uncle?”

“...were...a week ago...” you caught the tail end of his murmur.

“Hey!” you erupted, jabbing the old man into his ribs with a playful poke. He responded with an amused chuckle, regaining his composure. With a quick complaint about the way he had ruffled your hair, you slapped his hand away with a suggestion, “probably got weathered from old age,”

You weren’t about to add more to his worries with the anxious face he’d had seconds before. He was already so old it just didn’t feel right to push for answers he probably didn’t have. Helping you to move into his old home had been so overly generous that you hadn’t felt comfortable pressing for more.

Still, as you resumed your unpacking, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the statues.

They...looked wrong, somehow.

Their necks were too...clean.

As if they had been sliced through with a sharp blade.

Had there ever been heads to begin with?

You shook your head as a faint memory resurfaced. The statues had definitely had heads once, from your visits as a child. So, where had they gone?

As you pondered, your hands became slick with water-thickened dust and soap as you wiped down the wooden furniture in the large living room while your uncle busied himself somewhere in the background. The bright glare of the afternoon sun forced your lashes to flutter together in a wince and you groaned, relocating yourself to a shaded corner as your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

You blinked.

Something strange was perched outside the window, its wings casting long, dark shadows across the room from the setting sun behind it. You paused, a brief gasp, ever so slight that it might as well have been a breath, escaped your lips. Before you could think of anything to do, a deafening explosion of something shattering rang out from another room, and you spun toward where your uncle was, shouting the old man’s name.

You pivoted again, to see what you thought you saw.

The window was empty, glowing brilliantly with the blinding midday sunlight.

As if you’d only imagined whatever that creature was.

You stumbled out, confused and unsettled, to find your uncle with a troubled look on his face, assuring you that he hadn’t meant to scare you. As you attended to the accident, the strange sight remained in the back of your mind. Discomfort grew in your heart, and you wondered if it was normal to feel so familiar with what you thought you saw.

“You always had such fanciful imagination as a kid,” your uncle chuckled, rocking in his chair in the library you remembered frequenting as a kid. This was supposed to be his final night here with you, before he took the trip back to his assisted living home.

You cocked your head as you looked for a place to slot your favorite books in one of the many shelves. “Did I?”

Truth be told, your childhood memories were muddy at best.

“Oh, ho, yes, you always chatter on about an angel trapped in stone and the stories they’d share with you. Very...terrifying tales, may I add! Frighten my ol’ love, yer did. He never did like listening to these things, said you were listening to the devil.” Your uncle sighed, plucking a framed photo from a small table to reminisce about his deceased husband—

You...vaguely recalled how upset your other uncle was, though the reason still came blank.

“...Wasn’t he the reason I had to stop visiting?” You absently added, stilling your hands in your large tote of books to look at your uncle.

He tilted his head to think, “...Said it’s for your own good, or the devil would spirit you away.”

A question lingered heavily on your tongue and you blurted it out before your uncle could step into his vintage car.

“Why leave me this mansion if Uncle,” it felt strange to say your other uncle’s name after so long when you hardly remembered ever liking him as a kid. He was a mean man, but now, after what you’d learned, you started to wonder. Shaking your head to halt your straying thoughts, you pressed on, “was so against me staying here as a kid?”

You hadn’t meant the words to sound so demanding.

He stopped mid-hobble, looking up at you with his wrinkled hand still holding the suitcase, just before tossing it into his car. For a moment, your uncle opened his mouth, hesitated, then his eyes glazed over. Finally, with a small, uncertain smile, he admitted, “I’m...not sure. I just felt compelled to give this place to you, is all.”

Compelled?

Before you could dwell on that one strange choice of word, your uncle waved you over, “C’mere and give this silly old man a hug before he goes!”

He felt especially small and frail in your arms, as you held him. You remembered him so tall, but now he was just a tiny, old man with a heart too big for his tired body. As he slipped from your ebrace with a warm grin, you were disturbed by how cold his paper-like skin was under your palms.

Words and tears were exchanged, and that was it.

He bid you a farewell, adding a gentle ‘I love you’, and he was gone, his vehicle kicking up dust as it disappeared down the winding driveway. The sound of its sputtering engine gradually faded into the distance, leaving you in the utter silence of the mountain you now occupied. When it was no more than a speck in the dense, green horizon, you made a half turn—

And then you caught sight of something unfamiliar perched on a pillar of the hipped roof of your new—albeit ancient—home.

Blinking, you tilted your head high and squinted to make out the sudden appearance of a gargoyle.

Was...it always there?

It loomed above, a bulky, weighty thing, its great wings curled protectively over its hunched back, with its claws clutching at the gutter. A crown of horns fanned out over its elongated head, shielding itself from the rising sun in the shadows of its bony appendages. The creature’s hulking form sat in a perfect stillness, its long tail wrapped tightly around its hind legs in a stony coil.

As if it had been there all along.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t recall seeing the gargoyle above the main doorway before.

Even when you’d first arrived to meet your uncle about your surprise inheritance, nothing so stellar yet so grotesque had sat above the door before in your memory.

Yet it seemed so oddly familiar. The childish urge to grin and laugh as if upon seeing an old friend again, rose.

Deep in your heart, you knew this was wrong. A shiver ran down your spine, and confusion twisted your expression into one of fear.

You couldn’t see its face clearly beneath its wings, but you felt its eyes pierce your soul.

With another blink, you shuffled your feet, grinding your heels in the crunch of the fine gravel below. You inhaled the cold, crisp air—and you swore you saw it

breathe.

Unable to take it any longer, you fled inside, into the safety and isolation of your new home. The door slammed shut behind you, and you collapsed against the hardwood flood, gasping. The old wood needed a good waxing, but that was the farthest thing on your mind right then, as you panted and your heart was pounding against your ribcage.

“I’m being so stupid—this is silly...!” you muttered with a weak laugh, even as your erratic heart tried to jump out of your throat.

Before you could brush it off with the excuse of the jitters of being a new homeowner, a low creak groaned from above, echoing off  the roof outside.

You stiffened, your sweaty skin prickled with the chilling realization.You were all alone—

With this stranger outside your house.

A loud thud rumbled through the floor, vibrating the door you were leaning against—as though something heavy was dragging its claws across it.

Quietly, its voice, so deep and croaky, a disembodied whisper slipped through the thick wood, sighing with unsettling fondness: “...welcome home,”

The way it said your name had you trembling, but its next words gripped you with a terrible, numbing fear.

“...it’s only two of us now.”

—end

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Can I request a concept or/and headcanon? I’m asking because I know you are busy and I don’t you to feel pressured.

Nah, have at it! There are a few in my inbox I haven't touched because my inspiration comes rather sparsely these days to my irl sucking ass, but more genuinely never hurt ❤️

(i rly do miss writing hhh)