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bonefall · 9 months

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Herb Guide: Deaf Warriors and Hearing Disabilities

UPDATE 1: Added more harshness to the lipreading section based on initial feedback; minor rewording of some lines!

A reference for Warrior Cats fans creating characters with hearing loss, blending human advice with cat biology, written for an in-universe perspective on living with and managing such disabilities.

AKA Bonefall casts Spell of Stop Being Weird About Snowkit on all amoebas in 500 mile radius

[ID: A headshot of three cats, a brown tabby with a shredded ear (Strikestone), a solid white cat with blue eyes (Stonewing), and a gray cat with a mane (Dovewing).]

In the five Clans, hearing loss is both one of the most common sensory disabilities, and one of the most intense to adapt to. Through any mix of simple infections, birth abnormalities, or even just getting older, any given Clan can expect at least 1 in 4 of its cats to have some form of hearing loss.

Hearing loss is any impaired ability to hear, defined as not being able to hear noises under 20 decibels. Deafness is "profound" hearing loss, which means their hearing STARTS at a noise that is 81 decibels (ex: motorcycle, middle-distant clap of thunder) or louder. Most deaf people can still hear slightly, but sound is "muffled" and they can only hear VERY loud noises.

Hearing loss = Any impaired ability to hear. Normal hearing is 20 DB or lower.

Hard of Hearing (HOH) = Mild to severe hearing loss; starts between 21 DB and 95 DB.

Deaf = Profound hearing loss at 95 DB or higher; a clap of thunder is a quiet whisper.

MOST hearing loss will affect one ear more strongly than the other, and the cat will be HOH. The vast majority of cats with a hearing disability will still be able to understand their Clanmates, if they're just spoken to louder and more clearly. Cats who are born deaf (congenital deafness), however, tend to have profound hearing loss which affects their ability to understand speech.

Cats rely on their hearing and sense of smell much more strongly than they do on their eyesight. With hearing that's 4x more sensitive than a human's and can differentiate between 1/10th of a pitch, a Clan's healer would recognize hearing loss as a disability long before humans would even notice a problem.

Since hearing loss starts with the high-pitch noises that prey makes, like squeaks and chirps, hearing loss is a major reason for a senior warrior to begin to consider retirement. However, with proper support and accommodation, ANY warrior could adapt to this disability; Especially cats born deaf and younger HOH warriors with lots of time to re-learn.

This guide covers;

Common Causes

Traits and Challenges of Hearing Loss

Communication: Signs, lipreading, and more

Unique Challenges Clan-by-Clan

Sources are linked in a separate post, here, and linked again at the very bottom!

(note: this guide doesn't cover devices of any kind, but one of many reasons why cochlear implants are controversial is because an implant will destroy that remaining hearing. They aren't hearing aids; hearing aids amplify sound. Aids and implants are two different things)

Common Causes

There are DOZENS of ways to destroy the incredibly sensitive ears of a cat. ANY infection or injury can lead to permanent damage. That can include,

Injury gone sour, from battle, hunting, accidents, etc

Concussion, or a hard enough blow to the ear

Ear Mites, especially if the cat can't stop scratching it

Swimming in cold or dirty river water

Fungal or bacterial infections

Allergies, which can lead to sinus infections. Even an infection in the mouth or throat can spread to the ear!

There doesn't even need to be an infection. Around the ages of 7 - 11, a senior warrior may begin to gradually lose their hearing. Sometimes, through genetic factors or degenerative disease within the ear, an even younger warrior will lose it for "no reason."

It just happens, and it's incredibly common. They will usually begin to notice it when they stop being able to hear and hunt small rodents, because hearing loss will start with high-pitched noises.

Healers can do very little about this, besides attempting to clean any wax out of the ear canal with flax oil and a dab (such as moss, wool, or cloth). There are SO many ways for it to happen and so little in the way of treatments, that it's practically inevitable.

The majority of hearing loss is from infection or disease, but the most predictable way to see deafness in the Clans is in kits born white with blue eyes. In fact, ALL pure white cats are more prone to being born deaf!

Pure white without blue eyes: 17% to 22%

White with a single blue eye: 40% (and usually on the side of the blue eye)

White with two blue eyes: 65% to 85%

In an afflicted kit, the inner ear will rapidly degenerate. They typically lose most of their hearing by their 4th day, and will only be able to faintly hear extremely loud noises.

Of course, there's also various other birth defects that can result in deaf and HOH kits, even if they aren't white with blue eyes. The ear canal and hearing organs can just not form correctly! Any kit could be born with hearing loss, and they can have any type!

If the loss came from injury or severe infection, chronic pain in the inner ear is also common. Nothing can be done about this besides painkillers such as poppy seeds. This condition is rare in born-deaf cats.

Most cats with hearing loss will also permanently hear a repetitive, single-note sound. For most it's a faint, tinny "ring," but others can hear hissing, crackling, or humming in high or low pitch.

At first, this constant noise can be distracting or even debilitating, preventing them from focusing or sleeping, until... you just get used to it.

There is no way to turn the noise off. It can get worse or better, but it's forever. Sleeping and not being stressed out will help, but over time, they typically learn to tune it out. Being reminded of it is usually annoying, just like when someone reminds you about manual breathing.

(We call this condition tinnitus. It is up to you what you would like your cats to call it, the same way they refer to pneumonia as greencough. Tinnitus is a LOT broader than this little snippet, but this is not a guide about tinnitus, this is about hearing loss)

So to summarize that,

There's a billiondy-million ways to damage one's hearing.

Losing your hearing from age or disease usually results in being hard of hearing (HOH) as opposed to deaf, and is likely to affect one ear more than the other.

It starts with high-pitched noises like rodent squeaks.

Cats born white with blue eyes have a massive chance of being born deaf; their inner ear degenerates.

But, any kit could be born with any type of hearing loss, not just deafness.

Most cats with hearing loss will hear a distracting, repetitive noise. They just learn to tune it out.

Traits and Challenges of Hearing Loss

Hearing impaired cats are LOUD.

Even warriors who have mild hearing loss will often end up speaking much louder so they can hear themselves, or not notice the sounds they're making as they shift around in their nests, scuffle sand at the dirtplace, or trample through crunchy leaf litter.

If one of their ears is better than the other, they'll usually try to stand with their "good side" facing any speakers or other sources of noise. They might appear to be constantly standing at an angle, with their head turned towards the sound. It might be so second nature that they don't realize they're doing it.

Plus, a cat with hearing loss in only one ear will lose their hearing's "distance perception," the ability to pinpoint a sound's location. EXACTLY like how losing the sight in one eye causes the loss of "depth perception," they will have difficulty telling how far away a noise actually is.

Warriors who lose their hearing later in life typically have years of experience in knowing how prey behaves and what sorts of actions make noise; but cats born deaf have to be taught this.

Instead, born-deaf cats tend to associate "sound" with "vibration." Echoes, rumbles, and the sensation of their own humming or laughter can feel very pleasurable. Their whiskers are so sensitive that they can even feel drafts of air from someone speaking in front of them! Because of that, cats with impaired hearing do better with low, rumbling "sounds" rather than high-pitched ones; even when they can't hear either. They can feel lower pitched noises.

(NOTE: Decibels are the measurement of volume, and Hertz are the measurement of pitch. These are different things, NOT interchangeable. HIGH pitch and LOW volume are lost first.)

This is why hunting is so difficult when cats begin to lose their hearing. Their sense of smell and sight can be perfectly intact, but a lot of how a cat hunts is in listening for delicate little sounds and balancing them in both ears to figure out prey's exact location. So, when a cat is learning to hunt without their hearing, they have to rely on their other senses and keep their whiskers low, dusting the ground with their chops and front paws, in hopes of their quarry making a vibration they can feel.

IMPORTANT: Don't forget that cats have carpal whiskers! They are short whiskers on the front paws of a cat, used primarily for "grappling" with other cats and struggling prey. They are less sensitive than facial whiskers, but still very useful for a hearing impaired warrior.

"Dusting," keeping the face low, is still more effective than relying entirely on "Sweeping" movements with the paws.

The younger the cat is, the more time they will have to practice and master this. Cats born deaf, who have never relied on hearing before, are usually better hunters than older warriors learning completely new techniques.

But. Clan cats aren't the only danger in the forest.

A warrior who is deaf or hard-of-hearing will not hear danger approaching, and is easy to sneak up on. Even if they keep themselves completely quiet, an intelligent fox or an enemy warrior can launch an unexpected attack on their unsuspecting target. The wilderness is dangerous, and it's not feasible to keep one's whiskers pressed to the ground at all times, even if vibrations did carry far enough to detect such danger before it's too late.

So, it would be recommended for warriors with hearing loss to not wander too far without a hearing Clanmate capable of alerting them to sounds.

They also will have a VERY difficult time acting as part of a "battalion," in large-scale battles.

In fights with dozens of entangled warriors, while they're focused on fighting the cat in front of them, they will have a hard time hearing commands. Even if well-trained in visual cues like tail signs, deaf and HOH warriors might fail to respond to yowled orders like, "RETREAT" or "SECURE THE ENTRANCE."

Even if the warrior isn't fully deaf, battles are loud and chaotic! It's very likely that such orders would get lost in the clamor of hissing and screeching cats, if the cat has any difficulties with hearing at all.

In summary,

Cats with hearing disabilities are loud.

Hearing loss in one ear will cause the loss of distance perception, and they will often stand at an angle with their good ear facing the noise.

If they were born deaf, they have to learn what makes noise.

Highly tactile, they tend to rely on whisker-sense to "replace" their hearing.

Keeping their facial whiskers low to feel for vibration, "dusting," is a very useful technique.

"Sweeping" with the carpal whiskers is also useful, but less so than "dusting."

They are in increased danger from things sneaking up on them, and shouldn't go anywhere unsafe without a buddy.

Following battle commands in large-scale battles will be difficult or nearly impossible, making them bad "team players."

Communication: Signing, lipreading, and more

(psst! @twiigbranch has a free-to-use version of pawspeak if you credit them!)

Since the majority of these cats lost their ability to hear later in life, most warriors with hearing loss will speak "normally." By "normally," that means they will talk the same way they did their whole lives, just louder so they can hear themselves better.

Over many years, they may begin to stop enunciating their words, 'slurring' their sentences, and their pitch may be a little off. Even then, it's rare that a Clanmate would be able to "tell" they have hearing loss just from their cadence.

But, meanwhile, cats who are born deaf will have a very complicated journey with speech.

It's PIVOTAL for the kit's development that the family and the Clan takes an interest in trying to communicate with them. Deaf children often become isolated from communities that don't seem to care about them, the same way any other alienated child would. This can result in trauma, lack of self-confidence, and behavioral issues.

Even if your project doesn't have Pawspeak (or doesn't have it yet!), kittens WILL find ways to communicate with their family and Clan. Sign language can evolve organically from home signs, unique gestures that will rise for a deaf child to speak with their family. BUT, the sooner they're introduced to a true sign language, the better they will be able to communicate.

Sign languages can also die naturally, simply fading away if the next few generations don't keep them alive. It's possible for the Clans to have gone through a few, over the years!

(Note: Sign languages are full languages, not just "physical versions" of a spoken one. American Sign Language and British Sign Language are from totally different families, even further from each other than English and Russian!)

It is also possible for cats born fully deaf, who have never heard words, to learn how to speak verbally... but, this takes a LOT more time and effort than using a sign language.

Teaching a deaf warrior how to say words is not quick, or easy, and is a very physical process. It involves a lot of dedicated practice time back-and-forth, with the apprentice placing their paw on their mentor's throat to feel their voice, and being coached on how to mimic the exact inflections of every word. It can be very repetitive, and very boring.

Even with lots of training, speakers born deaf have a noticeable "accent." They pronounce consonants better than they do vowels (aeiou), and often lack tone and inflection. Each warrior is an individual, and using a speaking voice is a skill some will be better at using than others.

Lipreading is very difficult. Most warriors born deaf will never learn how to do this, or even want to, as it takes an immense amount of time, effort, and tutoring. It will be more common for cats with more moderate hearing loss, especially if they lost their hearing later in life.

These are REQUIRED for a proper lip reading;

Clear view of the face. If the speaker is too far away, moving around, covers their mouth, stands in a dark place, or has their back turned, their lips can't be read. There are many ways that the view of the face could be obstructed.

Slow, clear speaking. If they're talking too quickly and mumbling their words, it will be extremely difficult to catch all of what they said. A better lip reader will be able to read faster.

Mental awareness. A cat who is tired to exhaustion, unable to focus, or not expecting to be spoken to will not be able to process what's being said. Lipreading is an action that takes brainpower.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: A single speaker, not overlapping with others. Lip reading is nearly useless during clanwide arguments. If there's tons of cats talking over each other, shouting out and interrupting, responding to unseen lips in the crowd, or even if an important speaker is just at a bad angle for the deaf warrior's line of sight to catch, they will not be able to catch everything.

Lipreading is also an action that takes focus. If the cat is tired, unable to concentrate, or isn't expecting to have to read lips, they won't be able to process what words the mouth was forming. It works best one-on-one, in clear lighting, looking straight ahead at the speaker... and even then, the BEST lipreader might only catch 40% to 50% of the words said.

So, it's truly reading. Interpretation. It isn't straightforward like language is. From, "I see a herd of deer, all of them are bucks" they might only catch, "...a... deer... of them... bucks." They will have to guess the meaning based on context!

(Look into a mirror. Quickly chant "Red right wrong" three times. Do you see how similar your lips look to form those words when you're not trying to clearly enunciate them? That's what lipreaders deal with.)

So, while there are other options, a sign language is absolutely the best choice if possible in your setting. Especially for cats who were deaf from birth, sign language is the ideal solution.

VERY IMPORTANT TIPS FOR WRITING A HEARING DISABILITY:

Please avoid them speaking with broken grammar, in third person, or with overly simplistic vocabulary, as if they are a toddler or a caveman. If a deaf cat is taught to speak, they will also learn grammar. BAD: "Examplefur go hunt. Me catch mouse good." OK: "I'm going hunting. I'm good at catching mice."

They will not suddenly "forget" how to speak if they lose their hearing, unless they have another condition such as brain injury.

Lip reading is inferior to signing.

They cannot perfectly catch every single word spoken in all conversations via lipreading, especially when the speaker isn't making an effort to include them, or it's during a disorganized group argument.

In ideal conditions, 30% to 40% of the words spoken will be picked up, and the reader will "fill in" the missing vocab with guesswork.

Teaching a deaf cat to speak verbally is a dedicated process, not something they easily "pick up."

Cats born deaf will almost never pick up lipreading, it is more common in milder forms of hearing loss.

Showing hearing clanmates making an effort to include hearing-impaired warriors, like doing translations or just making sure they understood everything, is massively appreciated.

A good culture around hearing loss is the best thing in the entire world for these cats. Support, respect, and acceptance are sincerely the most important factor in how well a hearing impaired warrior adapts with their disability.

So with that in mind, let's also explore the unique challenges in the terrains and culture of each Clan.

Unique Challenges Clan-by-Clan

Because of the nature of this disability, certain Clans are going to be more difficult for a hearing impaired warrior to function independently in, both in terms of environmental hazards and of culture.

Deaf and HOH warriors will not hear the sounds they're making if they step on noisy terrain or accidentally rustle nearby plants. Some enemies also rely more on stealth to attack their targets than others, and some territories will provide more places for prey and predators to hide. Water-related hazards will naturally cause there to be MORE disabled cats in some Clans more than others, which could mean that there will be less stigma and better community.

Environment means a lot to a cat with hearing loss!

RiverClan

Because this Clan is notorious for swimming in the river, they would have a massively higher rate of hearing loss (and scent loss) than other Clans; ESPECIALLY in late autumn and winter. This also means their healers would be MUCH more experienced with treating ear problems in general; but that's a subject for another guide!

(to answer a stray question before I eventually make that guide: RiverClan can make primitive earplugs out of beeswax to protect their hearing, but may need to trade with ThunderClan to acquire that.)

The important thing to note is that compared to other Clans, RiverClan has the highest rate of having HOH warriors. This means that there would be better support systems for hearing loss than in other Clans, and a cultural "bank" of techniques and knowledge to be shared.

They still have the same proportion of kittens born deaf compared to other Clans, but apprentices without hearing in RiverClan would have a bigger pool (heh!) of mentors who have experience with accommodating their disability.

Plus, you don't need to hear fish to catch them. While they'd still have issues hunting water voles and other wetland-loving rodents, fishers aren't at a significant disadvantage when it comes to providing food to the Clan.

Advantages--

High concentration of cats with similar disabilities provides community, and influences the broader culture to be more accommodating

Healers would have lots of experience with the injuries and illnesses that lead to hearing loss, leading to better treatment

Hearing is not necessary for catching fish, and thus has almost no bearing on how skilled a hunter would be.

Mentors would have better techniques for teaching deaf apprentices

Disadvantages--

Will not hear drowning cats. If you drop into that water you're on your own, bucko

Winter will be even harder than usual, when the river freezes over and fishing becomes more difficult.

Overall, RiverClan is THE best Clan for a deaf cat to be part of.

WindClan

With wide open spaces and lots of hills that offer a good vantage point, sight and vigilance is much more important for survival in a moorland than hearing. There's even an advantage to Pawspeak here; you can communicate from across the open moor without screaming out your location to all the prey!

On top of that, moorland has low-laying vegetation. It isn't a grassland, or filled with splashing water, or covered in crunchy leaf litter. There's not a lot of things TO accidentally make noise on, unless the warrior is trying to hide in a gorse or common heather bush, and WindClan is notorious for relying on speed over stealth anyway.

The one drawback to being a deaf moor-runner is that they will not hear baying hounds. Dogs are extremely common in moorland, either as sheep herders or as companions to human hunters shooting grouses. That said, the fact that hounds are the ONLY big predator they'll need to worry about immediately makes WindClan's moor safer than any woodland territory.

Badgers, boars, and foxes hate open spaces like moorland. It's just dogs that are a big concern, and hawks for smaller cats. There are very few "sneaky" predators in this area; most rely on speed.

So being a moor-runner is one of the best jobs that a warrior with hearing loss could have in the Clans... but the minute that they start to have problems listening to any orders, a tunneler should stop working underground immediately.

Deaf apprentices should be excused from their mandatory tunnel training, except to learn how to do evacuation drills.

There is no light underground. Even if they're capable of creating rushlights or are willing to sacrifice glowworms, that light will be dim at best, and could snuff out at any moment. Communication will become impossible with a deaf cat, and even moderate hearing loss will endanger any warrior who gets separated from their team.

If something as drastic as a cave-in or a flooding happens, they will be in extreme danger. They can't be properly warned unless they're pushed by a fellow digger, and they will not be able to notice anything that isn't rumbling. If they DO end up getting trapped under rubble, they will not hear a rescue party calling their name.

It's not just themselves they have to worry about, either. Not being able to warn or coordinate with their excavation team will put ALL of them in danger.

Advantages--

Moorland requires sharper eyes than ears to begin with.

Lack of ambush predators makes this territory particularly safe without hearing.

Quiet terrain makes sneaking less neccesary in the first place

Pawspeak is especially useful across wide distances

Disadvantages--

Hounds are still a massive danger; they could get very close before they're noticed, if they're upwind.

Will not receive a warning cry in case of any hawks or approaching predators.

Tunneling would be profoundly dangerous with a hearing disability; should be heavily discouraged.

Overall rating is that this is the second best Clan for a cat with hearing loss. RiverClan's sense of community still gives them the top seat imo, but if the attitudes of their Clanmates are good, WindClan's moor is an easy territory to adapt to.

ShadowClan

This one is going to depend on what version of ShadowClan the Erins feel like writing that day, or which one you've chosen for your own project. Do they live in a dry pine forest? Or a wetland?

If you're using the idea that ShadowClan lives in a dry pine forest, especially if your project exists in Britain where spruces, firs, and larches are non-native and thus the territory is a timber plantation, refer to the new growth section in ThunderClan below.

I do not abide by that idea, because Aengus the Prize Winning Hog did not emerge from a cranberry bog for me to disrespect him in this way <3 love ur local wetland <3

(quick note: a swamp is a wooded wetland, a marsh is an open wetland, a bog is acidic, and a fen is neutral/alkaline. Wetland is the general term here.)

Wetlands are rich with soggy ground, muck, and microbe-ridden stillwater. Though ShadowClan cats don't swim for fun, they would end up with more ear infections than most Clans through accidentally falling into the swamp. It's likely that they have the second-highest rate of hearing loss in the 5 Clans, but still significantly below RiverClan.

The lush, thick ferns and reeds provide lots of cover to the notoriously stealthy Clan, but to a warrior who can't hear, this terrain is loud and frustrating. The squish of mud under your paws and the rustle of undergrowth is very hard to adapt to if you can't hear it. ShadowClan's prey of birds, frogs, and water-rodents will respond to any accidental noises by fleeing, quickly, making hunting difficult.

Plus, ShadowClan doesn't rely on one, large, deep, stony body of water like RiverClan does, which seems to be sedimentary rock and open marsh all around. Predators are lurking everywhere in wooded swamps, and could sneak up on a warrior who can't hear them. Foxes, badgers, and boars are a danger in this territory.

All that said; ShadowClan still doesn't seem to rely on just rodents. They eat a lot of amphibians and reptiles, which are not hunted by sound. Most of the techniques they use to catch them can just be taught verbatim to a deaf apprentice, or continue to be used the same way by a warrior who has lost their hearing.

Advantages--

Concentration of warriors with hearing loss from falling into dirty water may provide community and support.

Has a good selection of prey that doesn't rely on listening to be hunted effectively.

Disadvantages--

Swamps, wooded wetlands, are dangerous and attract predators.

Lush foliage and soupy ground make moving quietly difficult for a deaf warrior; but not as difficult as leaf litter.

So, this Clan would be firmly middle-of-the-line in terms of its accessibility to a cat with hearing loss. It would depend a lot on how you plan to approach ShadowClan in your own project; such as if you plan to build out more campbound activities, see them as being social or antisocial with their Clanmates, and what kind of territory you choose for them to have.

SkyClan

As of the time of writing this guide in 2023, when the only decent description of SkyClan's new territory is from a single chapter of Squirrelflight's Hope, it's very difficult to figure out what sorts of terrain challenges a warrior with hearing loss would face at the lake.

Hopefully I can come back and update this later!

But it's most likely is that they have a diverse, varied territory, involving the climbing of steep hills and gorges. Even at the "gorge" territory, a lot of hunting would need to take place outside of the rocky parts of the ravine, in the sparse woodlands and countrysides nearby.

For hunting on sparse woodland, see the advice for ThunderClan. Most hunting in British countrysides is going to look very similar to WindClan's open fields, so refer up there for that.

Because of how close they are to humans, both in the Gorge and at the Lake, it's HIGHLY recommended that warriors with hearing loss avoid twolegplaces. ESPECIALLY towns. Between cars, crowds, and grabbing hands, these places are already dangerous (and sensory hell) for warriors with great hearing, but outright lethal for a hearing impaired cat who won't hear these things coming.

So while the majority of the Clan is jack-of-all-trades and regularly mixes up the particular terrain they hunt in, this is going to be harder for hearing impaired warriors. They have to invent brand new, unique techniques for ALL of these different environments, some of them more difficult than others. Because of that, it will naturally be easiest for a deaf warrior to "specialize" in a particular type of terrain.

This could result in some pretty intense feelings of alienation, as their hearing Clanmates regularly mix what sorts of places they tackle. Without even intending to, they could end up making the warrior feel very left out!

In terms of the culture though, SkyClan seems notoriously accommodating. Between the part-time-kittypet daylight warriors and the way they invented an entirely new mediator role for a cat who didn't enjoy hunting and fighting, it would likely be one of the BEST Clans in terms of supporting a hearing impaired warrior, even in spite of having a "standard" rate of hearing loss since their territory is not particularly wet.

So, it's very likely that they would WANT to fix the fact they've accidentally made their Clanmate excluded, and seek solutions that work for everyone. If any Clan besides RiverClan had a Pawspeak interpreter translating Leafstar's words, it would probably be these guys lmao

Advantages--

Varied terrain means there will be at least a few places that aren't too hard for them to adapt to

Sparse woods, open fields, and even gorges, the three most common terrain types, are at worst decent for a deaf cat to hunt in.

VERY accommodating culture, the absolute best outside of the Clans with a high hearing loss percentage.

Disadvantages--

Generalist training, where every warrior handles vastly different terrain types, will exponentially increase how much training a hearing-impaired warrior must learn.

Being unable to join with their Clanmates in hunting across the entire territory could feel isolating

Rating: Close to top tier, but variable. It's going to depend somewhat on the personality of the warrior. While SkyClan will likely make a big effort to include them, the reality of needing to learn several sets of parallel skills and the way they might feel like an "outsider" for specializing could cause extra distress. Especially for a warrior losing their hearing later in life.

ThunderClan

Because of their collaborative culture and hunting style, described as snobbish and bossy by other Clans, it's very likely that ThunderClan would struggle the most with a specific type of ableism. Since they value group cohesion, it follows they may force Assimilation onto a disabled warrior rather than Accommodation.

As mentioned earlier, Pawspeak is the best thing for the comfort of a deaf warrior... but it might not occur to this Clan to encourage the majority of the Clan to adapt to a minority of warriors.

But it gets worse. Forests are AWFUL terrain to hunt in if you can't hear. Imagine walking in a field with a bunch of invisible landmines, and if you step on one, it broadcasts your EXACT location.

It's difficult to tell if your mouse is running away because you crunched a leaf and made a sound... or because a bird in a tree SAW you and is now raising up an alarm cry. If you can't actually hear what the noise was that scared your lunch away, you might blame yourself for being clumsy as a fox barrels towards you!

When it comes to forests, there are significant differences between an old growth forest and a new growth forest. BOTH of them are going to be extremely difficult for a disabled warrior to adapt to, but old growth is harder.

OLD GROWTH

In both, ground litter is a challenge, but especially so in an old growth British forest. Natural forests there are primarily mixed oak, which drop twigs, leaves, and acorns all over the ground.

These areas are bountiful, productive, and brimming with life. Both in terms of prey and predators. The varied canopy of natural, mixed-age trees allows sunlight to filter through and create an "understorey," providing lots of food and cover to lots of different animals. Unfortunately, foliage is not a deaf warrior's friend.

As previously mentioned, a mix of areas for animals to hide in and a surrounding of rattling plant life is the worst possible combination for a cat who can't hear. Worse, hunting rodents depends massively on hearing them through the leaf litter, thanks to those high-pitched chirps and squeaks which are the first thing to vanish when a cat loses their hearing.

This would be so bad that it's likely ThunderClan "works" its youngest members much harder than its seniors, assigning apprentices and young warriors to significantly more hunting patrols. Since hearing loss is so common that it's practically inevitable, and the security of a Clan allows these wild cats to live to such old ages, it would be "common sense" to ThunderClan to structure things this way.

Old growth patches are practically food pantries for Clan cats, but hearing impaired warriors will have a HELLISH time trying to hunt in them.

NEW GROWTH

When a forest is new and all of the trees in a stand are about the same age, they create a uniform canopy. Like a continuous tent. This means they're so effective at blocking out sunlight that there's virtually no understorey.

No understorey means no food. Or very little food. But it also means no cover. And, usually, significantly less leaf litter. This is because in Britain, most of these types of forests are non-native conifers. Sitka spruce and douglas fir are the two biggest offenders-- and that's significant because nothing here has evolved to EAT the products of those trees.

In ThunderClan, Tallpines is an example of this, but this type of terrain could pop up anywhere that's seen massive destruction.

No understorey to feed prey, no products of the trees which native animals can eat, a silent floor covered in pine needles which offer no hiding places, almost chilling uniformity of the strange trees in evenly-spaced rows...

All of this to say that there's an irony here, that the hearing impaired warrior will be best at hunting in the most barren parts of the forest.

There's much less things to trip up on, or rustle. Prey can be plainly seen out in the open. Gray squirrels are the most significant prey that can utilize these areas, and they DO make a hearty meal for a Clan cat. Additionally, these areas are particularly silent because they're so barren, which might make them seem "creepy" to hearing warriors, but that wouldn't bother a deaf warrior one bit!

Advantages--

Cultural sentiment of "all for one; one for all" may lead to more dedication from the Clan as a whole in connecting to the hearing impaired cat

Which could be a blessing or a curse, depending on the individual warrior's feelings.

Ability to work efficiently in the most barren parts of the forest

Disadvantages--

Cultural emphasis on collaboration in group hunting likely leads to deaf cats being encouraged to adapt to the patrol rather than their own strengths.

May result in more emphasis on teaching lip reading and 'speech therapy,' rather than the adoption or implementation of Pawspeak.

Very difficult to stay quiet in a forest if you can't hear the crunch of leaf litter and twigs.

Lots of cover means random bullshit can spring out from any corner; abundance of ambush predators.

Cover also means there's a lot of places for prey to hide, and hearing can't be used to pinpoint the location.

Lots of rodent prey, which relies on hearing high-pitched noise to catch.

Rating: F MINUS, SEE ME AFTER CLASS. By FAR the worst Clan for a warrior with hearing loss to be part of, for both practical reasons, AND cultural reasons. Awful awful awful, absolutely abysmal, failing grade. Dark Souls for deaf cats

Though remember! This part of the guide is a suggestion. You do not need to include ableism in your own projects if you do not want to, and I hope with the information that you now have, you know how to better avoid it!

"Sources?"

Right this way~

#Deafness #Hearing Loss #Herb Guide #Clan Culture #warrior cats #deaf warriors #This is not BB but I feel like I should tag it just for the cover art #Since Stonewing and Dovewing don't have hearing loss in canon #BUT I SAY THEY DO #Better Bones AU...ish. kinda #Bonefall's Herb Guides

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monster-disaster · 27 days

Note

I would love if you could write something about a dragon having a girl for a mate and praising/ pleasing her with his tongue with in tune gets him off as well

Request 2: Could I request a dragon story? The reader gets forced by her village as an offering to a dragon to keep him at bay. He takes her as an offering and instead of torturing her as she thought he claims her as his life long mate and wishes to please her and praise her? Mainly by eating her out constantly

dragon!Diman x human!Reader Good to know: size difference, smut, dead animals

You should have seen this coming.

You noticed the glances, the whispers behind your back, and the cold silence that followed you among the villagers. The signs were all there. And most importantly, you rejected one of the elders' sons when he asked for your hand in marriage. That sealed your fate.

Even now, bound and frightened, you don't regret it, though. Not one bit.

Being offered to a dragon, whether as a toy or a snack, you can't be sure, still feels like a brighter future than living under that man's thumb for the rest of your life. The thought of enduring him as a husband, dirty and loud, is more terrifying than anything else you might face now. Cooking for him, bearing his children... No. You'd rather face a thousand monsters than live that kind of life.

"Are you still sure of your decision?" He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. His piggy eyes are fixated on you. The pale color of his irises reflects the silvery light of the moon in the dark sky.

"Yes," you reply, your voice almost drowned out by the noise of the villagers gathered at the foot of the hill. You have to force your expression to remain indifferent, hiding your disgust as you look at him. His double chin obscures the line of his jaw. His round face is covered with stubble and small gashes from his clumsy attempts to shave.

"You'll regret it," he huffs. His grip is bruisingly tight around your arm as he uses you to haul himself up the hill. With every step, you sink back a few inches under his weight.

No, you think, but don't say it out loud. I won't.

No matter what happens when the dragon arrives, it's still better than the image in your head of the man panting and moving above you in bed. Even the thought of it makes your stomach turn with disgust and bile. His stubby fingers would fumble over you, grasping all the wrong places, and you’re not even sure if he could manage to put it in with his large stomach in the way. But, of course, his looks are the least of your concerns. If he had a lovable personality, it might have been bearable. But he’s rotten to the core. He could be more like the son of one of the hunters; a big guy too, with a mess of blonde locks on the top of his head and bright blue eyes that always shine with humor and happiness. His chubbiness only makes him look several years younger, adding to his boyish charm. But you aren't that lucky. He’s in love with your neighbor.

And this, all of this, leaves you for the dragon.

When you reach the top of the hill, your legs are sore, and lungs tight from panting. The man behind you shoves you to the ground. The impact hurts, but it's still better than the feel of his sweaty palm on your bare skin.

"Don't even try to run," he warns. The words leave his lips in heavy puffs. "If you do, we have hunters ready to shoot you."

You don't respond, turning your head away from him and only looking back when he finally turns to leave you there. Oh, how you wish he’d trip and roll all the way down into the crowd of villagers below. He’d knock them down like a huge ball. A sweaty, hairy ball. You are sure he would sound like the pigs too, crying and wailing.

Adjusting yourself on your knees, you straighten your back and scan the view in front of you. You don’t attempt to escape. You have no doubt the hunters would stop you if you tried anything. And where would you even go? Your home is the village, with all your possessions left behind in your small hut. And with your hands tied behind your back, you wouldn’t survive the night in the woods. The villagers would hunt you down like an animal. You would become the pig, dying in the dirt. The thought makes your heart ache with betrayal. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You once believed the village and its people were your home, your safe haven. Now, you are nothing more to them than something they can sacrifice.

With a heavy sigh, you gaze over the woods stretching out before you; a tangle of shadows with sharp edges and twisted shapes. Behind them, the tall, looming mountains' jagged silhouettes reach skyward as if trying to pierce the darkness. The familiar view that once gave you a sense of safety now leaves you with a cold, gnawing unease in your stomach as you wait. The villagers, whom you know all too well, are silent now, waiting just like you.

And none of you have to wait for long.

The sight of the dragon in the dark sky takes your breath away. The moon’s silvery light catches its enormous body, revealing the scales in sharp detail. You see its muscles shifting and moving beneath the hard skin. Each powerful stroke of its wide wings sends ripples through the night air. You hear every rhythmic beat growing louder as it gets closer and closer. Its large head, long and sharp, is supported by a thick neck that connects to broad shoulders. Along its spine, sharp ridges jut out prominently, extending all the way to the tip of its swinging tail. It cuts into the darkness with a fluid grace.

Your chest heaves as you try to get air into your burning lungs, but it seems that even the sight of him alone is enough to leave you breathless. His formidable presence commands awe, respect, and fear. Each powerful movement echoes his sheer strength. When he lands not far from you, the ground shakes and trembles beneath his massive weight. The vibrations crawl up through your bones.

"You are my payment," he says. His voice is deep and rumbling.

The word choice makes you flinch, and though it’s not a question, you nod in response anyway. "Yes."

Living so close to a dragon is always a risk, but as far as you know, most places find ways to protect themselves from the wrath of these huge creatures. The villages offer them gold, food, or humans.

For a long, long second, the dragon looks over you with his almond-shaped eyes. The weight of his gaze is heavy on you as well as his next words. "You will do."

For what, you want to ask but decide to stay quiet instead.

"Will you try something silly if I cut your bounds?" He asks with amusement.

You shake your head. "No." What could you do against him? Run? Fight?

"Good," he hums, reaching behind you to slice through the ropes around your wrists with a quick flick of his claw. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden closeness, and you dare not move, terrified of the damage he could inflict if you were to make a wrong move.

"Do you want to say your goodbye?" He asks, watching you rubbing your wrist where the robes cut into your skin.

You frown. "No." The word escapes your lips as a harsh spat.

He almost laughs. You can feel the deep rumble under your feet. "Good."

A loud, high-pitched squeal escapes your lips as he grabs you with a swift motion. His large hand envelops your entire body, fingers curling around you with ease. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly as his wings start to beat, raising you both into the air. You want to grab onto his fingers automatically, but his hold around you is so tight that you can't move.

"Wait, wait," you gasp hurriedly, and to your surprise, he stops in mid-air.

"For what?" The dragon asks. His golden eyes with black slits in the middle survey you waitingly, but when you open and close your lips several times without saying anything, he turns his attention away from you to continue his journey back to his home.

You want to take one last look at your village, the place that was your home until tonight, but your position in his hand makes it impossible. All you can see is the underside of his thick neck and head, along with the towering mountains in the distance. The late-night wind is cold on your face, yet his large palm around your body keeps you warm and secure in the air. Despite his size, he flies effortlessly, and soon, instead of the familiar hill and clearing, you find the dark wood underneath you.

His lair is nestled in a cove within one of the largest mountains. The air here is colder, and the wind is stronger, too, as he sets you down well away from the rocky edge, and you lose the warmth of his hold around you. After being carried, you feel unsure on your own feet as you look back to see the dark view of the landscape bathed in the moonlight. You can see your village in the distance, small and insignificant.

"Come," he breaks the silence. "It's warmer inside."

Going into a dark cave with a dragon several your size doesn't seem the brightest idea, but looking down the steep mountain beneath, you don't really have any other option.

"Wait," he says, making you stop immediately. "You need some light," he says as if reminding himself. "You humans barely see anything."

Without waiting for your response, he takes a deep breath, and before you can react, the dark hole is suddenly illuminated by the intense flames bursting from his massive jaws. The fire roars to life, casting flickering shadows across the cave's walls. Thick smoke surges into the cold night air, smothering you with its warm, acrid smell that stings your eyes and clings to your skin. When he finally closes his mouth, the flames recede, leaving the cave bathed in the dim, flickering light of burning torches mounted on the rugged walls. With the newfound illumination, you realize the cavern is even bigger than you first thought. Of course, a massive creature like the dragon standing before you requires as much space as he can get to move around freely.

"Come," he says, not even looking at you to check if you follow him.

Both of you know you don't really have any other option.

The dragon's lair is a maze that winds deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Steep slopes and jagged inclines alternate with vast, rocky halls that are filled with rusty weapons, tarnished armor, and forgotten trinkets. The air is thick with the scent of the stone walls and smoke. Each breath you take feels heavy and warm. As you follow the dragon, the torches he lits along the way cast flickering shadows on the walls. By the time he finally halts, you're out of breath, coughing from the smoky air.

"Where are we?" You ask him when you find your voice. It's hoarse and tight.

"Does it matter?" He asks. "You can't leave anyway."

You don't know where you get the courage to scowl at him. "Rude."

The dragon scoffs, amused. "We are in the heart of the mountain," he says.

The place resembles a grand hall with towering walls and thick, imposing columns that stretch up into the shadows above. The ground is littered with various objects, shiny ones, and old ones. Piles of gold gleam under the dim light, scattered carelessly among the mess. Books are strewn about haphazardly, their pages yellowed and edges worn, as if they’ve been forgotten in the chaos. At the center of the hall is a massive nest, sprawling and chaotic, made from a jumble of materials and what-not.

The dragon gives you a moment to take in your surroundings, but the silence only heightens your anxiety. Is this really it? Is this where you’ll meet your end? You can't help but imagine your clothes and bones tossed carelessly into the pile of treasure where the dragon sleeps. The thought that nobody will ever find you, that no one will even search, gnaws at you. You’ll be forgotten, just another insignificant meal for the beast.

"Are you going to faint?" The dragon's voice suddenly rumbles through the cavern, making you jump. The sound echoes off the stone walls and ripples down your spine.

"No," you manage to gulp out. "Why?"

"You look like someone who is ready to faint," he says. His tone is so casual that it’s almost infuriating. You are surprised you can feel anything else besides fear.

"Do you see a lot of humans faint before you?"

His grin is slow, almost mechanical, revealing sharp teeth that glint under the dim light. "You could say that."

"So," you begin, licking your lips nervously, "what do you want to do with me?"

His grin widens, and your heart races. "Let's sleep for now, hm?"

Your eyes widen in surprise. Sleep? That wasn’t the answer you expected.

"What?"

The dragon rolls his large, golden eyes, clearly bored with your reaction. With a graceful, feline-like motion, he climbs into his nest, settling down with a heavy thud that makes the ground shake beneath your feet. His massive body curls in on itself, his tail wrapping around him as his head rests on a pile of treasure. Or trash. You can't decide.

That’s it? You think, bewildered. He just wants to sleep?

When you remain frozen in place, your legs trembling beneath you, the dragon lets out a scoff. In one swift motion, he reaches out, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you off the ground. Your startled squeal echoes through the hall, but he ignores it. He just places you close to his head with a gentle but firm grunt.

"Sleep." His warm breath washes over you, providing a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding walls of the mountain.

You’re too stunned to resist, and the strange warmth of his breath is oddly comforting in the darkness.

As you soon find out, the dragon has entirely different plans for you than your village, which was so eager to throw you into the beast's arms. Or mouth.

Two days later, you finally gather the courage to ask. "When do you plan to... kill me?"

The dragon's response is not what you expect. He laughs, a loud, rumbling sound that echoes through the cavern and lingers long enough to make your skin burn with embarrassment.

"Eat you?" He asks, still chuckling. "Why would I do that, little morsel? You're so small... not even enough for a quick snack."

"Well..." you clear your throat, searching for words. "Isn't that what dragons do?"

He hums thoughtfully. "I won't lie," he admits. "The taste of human flesh is not... unfamiliar to me, but no, I don't plan to eat you." His laughter bubbles up again, and you scowl at his obvious amusement.

"Then why are you keeping me?" You press. Confusion and frustration mix in your voice.

He pauses for a moment, considering. "To entertain me."

"Entertain you?" You repeat, incredulous.

"Yes."

"What?" You scoff, disbelief creeping into your tone.

The dragon huffs as he leans closer to you. His massive head is now just inches away. Each exhale ruffles your hair, the warm breath unsettling yet somehow familiar after two days of spending time with him.

"Do you think you're the first human who has been given to me?" He asks, not waiting for your reply. "You’ll stay here with me until I tire of you."

"And after that?" You whisper, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I will let you go," he says. He almost sounds bored. "Just as I let the others go when they could no longer amuse me."

"You let them go? Alive?" You ask, hardly daring to believe it. You've never met anyone who was captured by a dragon and got out without a fight.

"Yes," he replies, rolling his eyes at your disbelief.

When you don’t respond, he turns away from you. His tail nearly knocks you off your feet as he heads toward one of the corridors.

"Where are you going?" You call after him, watching his massive form disappear into the shadows.

"I’ll get you some food," he says, laughing again. "Stay there."

"I don't even know your name!" You shout after him. You can hear your voice echo in the distance.

"Diman, little morsel."

Diman.

You're not sure how long he's been away. In the deepest part of the mountain, you can't see the sky, and not knowing whether it's day or night is starting to drive you mad. The dragon is rude and blunt, but you're beginning to think he won't be your biggest problem if you have to stay here with him.

When Diman returns, you feel a pang of disappointment as you see he has come back empty-handed. Your stomach growls with hunger, but before you can voice your frustration, he stops in front of you. With a deep breath, his large mouth opens, and two rabbits tumble onto the ground.

They're covered in his saliva, and they are unmistakably dead.

"You know what to do with them, right?"

"Yeah," you reply, trying to suppress the grimace threatening to spread across your face. "Thanks."

You grab the rabbits by their hind legs, searching the cavern for anything that might help you prepare them.

"You can find knives..." he muses for a moment. "Anywhere, I guess."

You glance at him, surprised by his nonchalant response. He smirks. His eyes gleam with a predatory glint, and the slits of his pupils widen slightly as he takes in your reaction. "You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to," he adds with obvious amusement.

Without saying a word, you sigh and turn your attention back to the task at hand. You have dragon-saliva-soaked rabbits to prepare.

"Can I clean myself somewhere?" You ask.

After several days in the dragon's lair, you've yet to see the outside world, something you'll need to address with him eventually, but you have more important things in your mind. You've grown increasingly uncomfortable in your own skin. Your clothes reek of smoke and sweat.

Diman surprises you by standing up in his nest. "Good. I was starting to think you preferred being... like this."

You frown at him, feeling a mix of frustration and weariness. If this continues, your irritation with the dragon might become more than just a fleeting emotion. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you liked being stinky," he replies with a shrug. His muscular body, covered in thick, scaly skin, moves fluidly as he stretches.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" You splutter, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.

"I didn't want to be rude," he says with an air of nonchalance.

You can’t help but scoff at his response, unable to hide your frustration.

"Come on, then."

The dragon leads you through the corridors. His massive strides force you to almost run just to keep up with him, and you have to watch out for his tail, too. It swings left and right in front of you with every step he takes.

For a long while, you wonder if he’s taking you out into the woods to find a river. But when he finally stops, and you step out behind him, you gasp in awe.

Before you is a new cave, even larger than the main hall at the heart of the mountain. Sunlight streams through natural openings in the walls, casting a warm glow on the time-carved columns that support the rough ceiling. The light dances across the surface of several pools of varying sizes scattered throughout the space. The water in them is crystal clear, reflecting the rugged walls with shimmering ripples. The air is thick with warmth and steam, which rises gently from the springs.

"Oh," you gasp, taking in the unexpected sight. "I didn’t know about this."

"Of course, you didn’t," Diman replies, his tone matter-of-fact. You give him a look, but he is not the type to shy away. "Do you want to bathe or not?"

"Yes," you reply, "I do. Do you have a change of clothes for me?"

"I’m sure I’ll find something," he says, and with that, he leaves you alone in the cave.

"Like a maid," he adds under his breath.

With his departure, you waste no time stripping off your clothes and stepping into one of the pools. The water laps gently against your bare skin, and you can feel your muscles and joints relaxing as the warmth envelops you. Leaning against the edge, you face the openings in the wall, allowing the sunlight and fresh air to wash over you.

When your village cast you out, you never imagined you'd end up here. You can’t help but think about how the others must assume you are long dead by now. You had thought so too, that your fate would be sealed and your life cut short. Yet here you are, unexpectedly alive and soaking in comfort. The irony of your situation is not lost on you.

You’re almost asleep when Diman returns, his heavy footsteps echoing softly in the cave. Something soft lands on the ground beside you silently. Opening your eyes, you see what looks like a nightgown spread out on the floor.

"And I brought you towels," he adds, his voice low and gruff.

You sit up, blinking in curiosity. "Why do you have towels?"

He shrugs, the movement causing the thick plates of his muscles to shift. "I have many things I have no idea how I got."

"Yeah. I saw."

Diman catches the subtle change in your tone and tilts his head. "Do you have a problem with it, little morsel?"

"It's... messy," you reply cautiously, watching his reaction. While Diman can be blunt and intimidating, he hasn’t harmed you yet, and you’re careful not to overstep.

"And it should bother me because...?"

"I didn’t say it should bother you," you tell him softly, trying to choose your words carefully. "But it’s not really... homey."

"It’s a cave," he retorts as if that explains everything.

"But it’s still your home," you reason.

Diman considers this, his gaze thoughtful. "Okay then," he agrees with a slow nod. "You’ll be here for a while, you might as well clean up if you want to."

Great, you think sarcastically. Just what you wanted, a never-ending cleaning project.

"Now," you say after a while, breaking the silence with a bit of hesitation, "can you leave?"

Diman frowns. "What?"

"I’m naked!" You exclaim, pointing out the obvious. With nothing else to distract you, you’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re completely bare in front of him, even though the pool and the water offer some privacy.

"So?" His tone is indifferent.

"Out!" You insist, your voice rising a bit in embarrassment.

For a long moment, Diman just stares at you, half-serious, half-amused. When you add a soft, "Please," his expression softens slightly.

He sighs but begins to move anyway. His large frame shifts with a resigned grace. "It is my lair, you know? You can’t just order me around."

It seems you can, but you wisely keep that thought to yourself.

Later, you find yourself nestled in Diman’s nest, a place that was initially intimidating but has become oddly comforting. You didn’t dare say anything about sleeping here at first, but now you don’t mind it. His warmth is a blessing against the cold mountain nights. A cocoon of heat that keeps the chill at bay.

"Read me something," Diman’s voice rumbles, breaking the silence.

"Read you something?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. His massive head rests on a pile of unidentifiable objects, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.

"Yes," he replies with a hint of impatience in his tone. "There are tons of books all over. Find something."

"Okay," you agree. You are not really sleepy either and glad for something to occupy your mind.

You rise from the nest, your nightgown swishing around your legs as you begin to sift through the scattered piles of belongings.

Diman watches you silently. There’s a quiet contentment in the way he observes you without saying anything. His tail curls slightly around himself some more. The sight of you in the soft, flowing nightgown fills him with a strange sense of peace. It’s almost enough to lull him to sleep, but he’s not quite ready for that yet.

As you pick through the mess, carefully avoiding knocking over anything, you come across a book that catches your eye. The cover is worn, and the title is barely readable, but it feels right in your hands. You bring it back to the nest and settle in beside Diman. Opening the book, you begin to read aloud, and soon, your voice fills the cavern. The dragon listens, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing is slow and steady.

He spent the last decade mostly asleep, lost in the deep slumber of his kind. But now, with you here, being awake doesn’t feel like a burden anymore.

You and the dragon fall into a routine surprisingly quickly. The strange part isn't how easily you've adjusted to your new life, but how little you miss your old one. Yes, you miss your cottage, its cozy walls, and familiar smells, but you don’t miss the villagers. Why would you? They threw you away like garbage. With a few exceptions, they can rot where they are. You were right, though, choosing to be with a dragon is still a better option than staying with that fool of a man.

"What are you doing?" The sudden voice of Diman makes you jump. You almost drop the bundle of clothes in your hands. His large frame looms in the entrance. Shadows play and stretch on his scales in the dim light.

"Cleaning," you reply, steadying yourself after a second. You notice the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. "You're home early."

"There was a storm last night," he explains. His answer rumbles through the walls like a distant thunder. "It means plenty of fish."

Without further ado, he opens his massive jaws and drops a writhing pile of fish onto the stone floor. They flop and gasp, their silver scales glinting as a thin layer of water and dragon saliva spreads beneath them.

"Oh, god," you groan, stepping back in disgust. "They’re still alive!"

Diman tilts his head, watching you with a curious glint in his eyes. "You don't like it?"

"I do," you say, though your gaze remains fixed on the pile of struggling fish. "I just... I hate killing them."

"What?" He asks, genuinely puzzled.

"They're so wiggly!" You groan again, shuddering at the thought of touching their slimy bodies.

The dragon laughs. The deep, resonant sound echoes off the rugged walls. "I see. I’ll take care of them while you finish cleaning then."

You blink in surprise at his offer, but quickly nod anyway. You won't argue about this. "Thank you."

While he effortlessly handles the fish with his massive talons, you return to organizing the books you’ve been gathering from around the lair. You’ve created a neat pile in a corner. Diman could have a full library, though you’re not sure if dragons can even read.

"You’ve been busy today," he comments, his eyes flickering over to you as he lights a fire for cooking. Doing it in the heart of a mountain might not be the best idea, but for now, it’s your only option.

"Yeah," you sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you survey the hall. The place is still a chaos, but it’s better than before. "What do you do with so much gold?" You ask, nodding towards another glittering pile that catches the warm glow of the torches.

Diman shrugs. "They’re pretty."

"And the books? Or the clothes?" You continue, settling down next to him by the fire. Your stomach growls at the sight of the fish, now neatly arranged and ready to cook. "I understand the weapons and shields, but everything else seems so random."

He shrugs again. "I take what I find interesting or pretty. I mean, you’re here too, no?"

His words catch you off guard, a rush of warmth rising to your cheeks. "Well, yeah," you mumble, flustered.

Diman grins, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "You look better when you’re not trying to faint from fear."

You scoff. The moment between you two passes as quickly as it came. "Shut up."

He chuckles but falls silent, allowing a peaceful quiet to settle over you both as you begin cooking dinner. The fish sizzles over the fire, filling the cavern with a mouth-watering aroma.

"You seem to like it," Diman teases, watching you tear into the white flesh with both hands. Your hunger overwhelms your manners.

"Sorry," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I didn’t get to eat fish often back in the village. The river was far, and when people caught something, they sold it too expensive for me."

Diman’s gaze softens slightly. "Did you have problems there?"

"Not really," you reply between two bites. "I didn’t have much, but it was enough, you know?"

He hums in understanding, lowering his massive head to the ground as you continue eating.

"Do you want some?" You ask, holding out a piece of fish on your plate toward him. "It’s delicious."

The moment the words leave your mouth, time seems to stop. Diman stares at you, shock clear on his face. You have no idea what you’ve just offered him. Offering food among dragons is a gesture of profound significance, far beyond the simple act as it is for humans. It’s a symbol of trust, of bonding, of something deeper that you can’t even begin to comprehend.

For a long moment, Diman hesitates, torn between his instincts and the awareness that you don’t understand the weight of your gesture.

"No," he finally says, though his voice is softer, almost tender. He relaxes back onto the ground, his massive form curling slightly around you. "Eat, little morsel."

You continue eating, unaware of the change between you and the dragon and the silent vow Diman has made to himself. He will make sure you never leave him, even if you don’t fully understand the bond you’re forming yet.

“When will you get bored of me?” You ask the dragon after two months of living with him. The two of you sit at the entrance of his cave, basking in the last golden rays of the summer sun as it slowly dips behind the horizon. His emerald scales shimmer under the warm light. He sprawls on the ground, seemingly at ease.

At your question, his muscles tense, and he lifts his massive head to look at you. “Do you want to leave, little human?” He asks. The question rumbles with a barely suppressed growl of disapproval.

In truth, you have no desire to leave him. The thought of him sending you away gnaws at you daily. Where would you even go? Your old life was left behind, abandoned along with your cottage. Now, this cave, with its towering stone walls and the dragon who lives in it, is the only home you know.

A long, silent moment stretches between you as he watches you intently. Slowly, you gather your courage and shake your head. “No,” you admit, your voice steady. “That’s why I’m asking.”

His gaze softens slightly. “You don’t want to leave me?” He asks again as if needing to hear it twice to believe it.

You shake your head once more.

Living with Diman has been surprisingly comfortable. Despite his size and the sharpness of his claws, he’s become a constant presence around you, a source of safety. He’s often infuriating, teasing you just for the fun of it, but there’s warmth in his companionship that you’ve come to cherish. The thought of leaving him, of leaving this mountain, fills you with anxiety.

“Would you let me go if I wanted to leave?” You ask suddenly, the question escaping before you can stop it.

Diman sighs, his eyes drifting over the darkening landscape. “That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?” He muses aloud.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I guess.”

He meets your gaze with a guilty smile. The corners of his large mouth curve up. “I say yes, as long as you promise not to test it.”

Diman has always been quick to let go of the men and women offered to him over the years. A lot of them stayed only a few days before he grew bored and sent them on their way. But with you, it’s different. He has no intention of letting you go. It’s not just about the entertainment you provide, though, you do make him laugh more than he has in years. No, it’s more than that. You make his cave feel like a home, and every time he leaves to hunt, he finds himself eager to return. When he sleeps, he looks forward to waking up, knowing you’ll be there. You’ve brought something into his life he didn’t know he was missing.

To his surprise, you laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “I won’t test it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. You lean back against his thick arm, closing your eyes with a contented sigh.

That night, the two of you drift off to sleep with anticipation and some lightness in your hearts.

"When will you be back?" You ask Diman, standing under the entrance of the cave as the rain pours down in heavy sheets. The dark clouds above rumble and flash with lightning every few minutes, casting brief, eerie illuminations across the landscape. The forest below is still green, but it looks weary and tired as the autumn approaches.

Diman turns to you, a grin spreading across his massive face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Are you worried about me?" He teases, expecting your usual playful retort, but when you don’t respond with your typical energy, his expression softens, and he answers more seriously. "I’ll be fine," he assures you. "This weather is nothing to me."

You nod, but the sigh that escapes you betrays your concern. "Okay."

"I’ll be back soon," he adds, trying to reassure you. "It shouldn’t be more than a week. Maybe two."

You don’t like the uncertainty in his answer, but you nod again anyway. "Okay."

"Take care of yourself while I’m away," he says, his voice gentle, as if trying to ease your worry.

"I will," you reply, though the words feel hollow.

Diman has to leave to hunt and prepare for the approaching winter. With his large appetite, he needs to be mindful of the animal population and cover more land before he accidentally empties the surrounding forest. And while you understand the necessity, you don't like it. You’ve grown used to his presence, his constant warmth. The thought of him being gone, even for a short while, leaves you feeling strangely vulnerable.

But you know it’s something he must do. So, you watch him as he spreads his enormous wings. The muscles in his body flex in preparation for flight, and with a powerful leap, he takes to the sky.

You watch him until his form is swallowed by the stormy clouds.

As you retreat back into the cave, it feels emptier without him. Colder somehow. You wrap yourself in a blanket, trying to shake off the unease settling in your chest. You tell yourself he’ll be back soon, just as he promised, but until then, the cave, and you, feel just a little lonelier.

While Diman is away, you continue to tidy up the cave, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the days drag on. Without his presence, the mountain walls feel heavy and claustrophobic. They close in on you more and more with each passing day. The silence is deafening, and the nights are too cold without the dragon’s warmth beside you. The cave now feels more like a prison, its stone walls offering little comfort against the loneliness that gnaws at you.

As the end of the first week without him approaches, you find yourself spending more and more time at the entrance of the cave, staring out at the still-raging storm and the dark sky and hoping to catch a glimpse of the returning dragon. Nature seems to be shedding its lush greens at an alarming speed. The forest below transforms into shades of orange and brown as autumn takes hold.

One day, you sit at the entrance of the cave, wrapped tightly in a blanket as the storm continues its relentless assault on the world outside. The sky above is dark, and heavy with clouds. The wind howls, and the rain pounds against the rocks, but you barely notice it anymore. Your thoughts are far away, lost in worry and longing for Diman's return.

The rumble of the ground beneath you is subtle at first, a faint vibration that you almost dismiss as part of the storm. But then it intensifies. The mountain itself groans under the pressure of some unseen force. You stand up, alarmed and with a racing heart as the tremors grow stronger. For several seconds, you stand there, frozen in place until the rocks around you begin to shudder. Dust and small pebbles rain down from the ceiling. A deafening roar echoes through the cave, and the ground lurches violently beneath your feet. The entrance, your only connection to the outside world, begins to crumble too. The rocks above shift and crack, and with a thunderous crash, they fall. The cacophony of stone grinding against stone drowns out everything else.

You barely have time to leap out of the way as the massive boulders come crashing down, sealing off the entrance in a cloud of dust and debris. You hurl yourself to the ground, rolling to the side and curling into a tight ball in the midst of the chaos. Your heart pounds as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your muscles are tense as you pull your knees to your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your head, while the other digs into your legs, anchoring you as the world around you crumbles.

When it finally stops, the silence is absolute, broken only by the muffled sound of the storm outside.

Coughing and gasping for breath, you push yourself up with a groan. Darkness surrounds you, thick and impenetrable. The air is heavy with dust, making it hard to breathe. Your hands scrape against the rough stone floor. You reach out, feeling your way through the pitch-black void, but your fingers meet only cold, solid rock and hard edges. Desperately, you search for any sliver of light, any gap that might offer a way out, but there’s nothing. The cave is sealed tight, and you are alone in the stifling blackness. The once-open space is now filled with a thick wall of stone.

You sink back to the ground with a rising panic in your chest while trying to steady your breathing. Your shoulders feel heavy as you force your mind to think. Diman will come back, you tell yourself. He’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll dig you out. You are safe with no injuries besides a few bruises and cuts here and there, and for now, all you can do is wait, alone in the darkness, hoping that Diman will return sooner rather than later to save you.

Hours pass in suffocating darkness. You sit, knees drawn to your chest, straining to hear anything beyond the silence. Every creak and groan of the mountain around you sends a jolt of hope through your heart, but it’s always nothing. Your dragon is probably far away, having no idea of the situation you are in. Your mind races with worry and fear, but as time drags on with no sign of Diman, a cold, grim resolve begins to take hold of you. You can’t just sit here, waiting. You have to do something.

With a deep breath, you push yourself to your feet. Your hands reach out to the rough, familiar walls of the cave, guiding you as you navigate through the pitch-black corridors. Every torch is blown out, making each step you take slow and careful. It feels like an eternity by the time you reach the grand hall. You can’t see it, but you know the space by heart.

First, you need fire. The torch is hard to find. Your hands are shaking when your fingers finally close around one, but lighting it is even more difficult. You are clumsy, trembling with cold and fear, but after several tries, a spark catches, and a small, flickering flame bursts to life.

The light is weak, barely enough to push back the darkness, but it’s something. It gives you the courage to move forward.

You gather as much supply as you can carry, stuffing them into a small sack before making your way to the baths. The walls here are punctuated by holes that let in some natural light, even though it's not much now with the storm outside. It's better than nothing, though.

You set your torch in a holder on the wall, letting the warm, flickering light mix with the cool, natural glow filtering in. The bath hall is a large, cavernous room with several pools fed by underground springs.

Okay, you think. It's much better. You have light, clean air, food and water. You will be fine until Diman comes back.

You lay out the blankets, creating a small nest for sleep. The air here is warmer, the water giving off a gentle steam that eases the chill in your bones. You take a deep breath, the first one since forever that doesn’t feel suffocating. The fear and loneliness are still there, gnawing at the back of your mind, but it’s easier to push them aside now that you are safe and out of the dark.

Diman will come back. He has to.

As the second week draws to a close, the storm that has raged on for weeks finally begins to ease. For the first time in days, you feel a small sense of relief. Being able to see the sky helps soothe the anxiety that has been eating at you. The knowledge that the world beyond the mountain still exists and turns is a comfort you didn't know you needed so much.

It's early Friday morning when a deep rumble shakes the cave, jolting you awake. Your stomach tightens with fear. The memory of the last collapse flashes through your mind as you brace yourself for the worst but this time, the ground doesn’t give way, and as the rumbling continues, you realize it’s not the mountain. It’s Diman’s voice, echoing through the labyrinth of stone.

A gasp escapes your lips as you scramble from your makeshift bed, your heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. You hesitate at the entrance of the cave that opens to the baths, unsure whether to move or stay put. You have to keep your tensing and twitching muscles from running. The maze of tunnels and chambers could make it harder for him to find you if you wander too far.

You call his name, your voice trembling as it bounces off the rugged walls, merging with his deep, booming calls.

“Y/N!” His voice is closer now, filled with urgency and worry.

Tears well up and spill down your cheeks as you see his massive form emerge at the end of the corridor. His eyes are wide and frantic as he spots you. Relief washes over you like a wave as you rush toward him, your arms stretching out instinctively.

“I’m here,” you cry out. Your voice breaks with emotion just as his large head presses into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him as best as you can, feeling the cool, rough texture of his scales under your fingers. Your feet lift off the ground for a moment as you cling to him. His deep, rumbling hum vibrates through your body as he tries to calm himself.

“I saw the entrance,” he says, his voice choked with fear and lingering panic. “I thought- I saw your blanket between the rocks- and- ”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, caressing the thick scales beneath his eyes. “I was lucky; it didn’t hurt me.”

“Why were you even there?”

“I was waiting for you,” you reply.

“Little morsel,” he sighs, snuggling even closer. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I promise." His large, gleaming eyes soften as you continue to stroke his scales. “I’m fine now that you’re here,” you whisper. The warmth of his presence chases away the lingering fear and loneliness that had weighed on you for so long.

Diman hums again, a low, soothing sound that vibrates through the air. It wraps you in a cocoon of safety.

“I’ll never leave you like that again,” he promises, his voice firm and unwavering.

You smile, wiping away the last of your tears as you nod. “It's fine by me.”

For a while, both of you bask in each other's embrace while talking quietly about the last two weeks. Diman needs a long time to calm down and believe that you are really okay.

"I will go and take care of the entrance," he says after a while. "And lit some fire."

"Okay," you nod even though you have to force yourself to let him go.

"Stay there until then," he says. "I will come back and get you."

As Diman busies himself, you slip away to take a bath. The warm water washes away the grime and stress of the past weeks, and as you change into clean clothes, a sense of relief settles over you. The knowledge that Diman is back, safe and sound, lifts the heavy burden that had weighed on your heart. Even as you hear the rumble of debris being cleared and feel the tremors beneath your feet, the fear that once accompanied these sensations is replaced by contentment. The mountain, which had felt like a prison in his absence, now feels secure and comforting again.

By the time you finish, Diman has completed his work. The entrance to the cave is clear once again, and as you step into the great hall, the fire’s orange glow flickers warmly on the walls, bringing a sense of normalcy back to your life.

"We need to change a few things around here," Diman says, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "I want you to have an escape route even when I'm not here. You need more light and—"

"It's okay," you interrupt gently, smoothing your palm over his thick arm. The texture of his scales is rough beneath your hand. "We can figure everything out later. Are you hungry?"

He looks at you, surprised. "I just came back from hunting."

You shrug, settling into your usual spot near his nest. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the walls, and while you miss the open view of the outside world, the warmth and light bring a sense of peace. "You worked a lot today."

His smile is gentle, and there’s a new light in his yellow eyes that you’ve never seen before, something soft and tender. "No," he replies after a pause, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not hungry, but let me feed you."

"Oh," you say, surprised by his offer. "Okay," you add, smiling at him as he moves to prepare your meal.

Despite the obvious difference in size between him and the portion you eat, he works with surprising speed and care, and soon, the cave is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of vegetables and fish. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you how long it’s been since you’ve had a proper meal.

"Where did you get fish?" You ask, watching him with curiosity. You had finished all the meat in the last two weeks before it could spoil.

"On my way back," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Now, eat."

You take the plate he offers, the food warm and inviting. As you savor each bite, you glance up at Diman. His eyes are fixed on you, watching with a kind of quiet contentment that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him look at you like this before, and it fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.

"Thank you," you say softly, and Diman responds with a deep, comforting hum that reverberates through the cave. The sound is rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Are you sure you don't want some?" You ask, holding up a piece of fish between your fingers. You could use a fork, but Diman doesn’t care about etiquette, and you quickly grew tired of searching for usable cutlery in the vastness of his home.

As the words leave your lips, the air between you shifts. Something unspoken and electric crackles in the silence as your eyes meet, holding each other's gaze a moment longer than usual.

"Do you know what you're offering me, little morsel?" Diman's voice deepens, resonating with a gravity that makes your heart skip a beat. The black slits of his pupils widen, nearly overtaking the molten gold of his eyes.

You hesitate. The answer is on the tip of your tongue. "No?" You say instead.

"Sharing food in my culture is an offer to share everything," he explains, his gaze never wavering. "It’s a bond between family and mates."

"Oh," you manage. Your throat tightens at the realization. "So..." you croak, still holding up your hand with the small offering. "Do you want some?"

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his lips, revealing the sharp edges of his teeth as he grins down at you. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes as he leans in, his massive head drawing closer. His tongue flicks out, surprisingly gentle, as he licks up the morsel from your hand. It’s likely not even enough for him to taste, but the significance isn’t lost on either of you. You’ve offered something sacred, something profound, and he’s accepted it with a puffed-out chest and a heart swelling with warmth.

As you watch him, a thought strikes you. "Wait," you say, your voice breaking the quiet. "But you..."

Diman watches you with amusement, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Yes, little mate?"

"You prepared my food so many times."

"I have," he agrees, his voice steady and sure.

"Well," you clear your throat, feeling a little foolish but pressing on. Your heart races in your chest at the silent change between you and the dragon. "Do you want some more?"

Diman chuckles. "No," he replies with affection. "Eat now." But even as he speaks, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stays close, his head rubbing gently against your side and arms, careful not to knock you over with his size and strength.

His gaze never leaves yours as you take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself after your last bite. Your stomach twists into a tight but excited knot. Your hands tremble as you reach out, letting your fingers trace the space between his nostrils, feeling the rough, resilient scales that shield him from nearly everything.

Diman hums softly, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air and ripples down your spine. “Lay down, Y/N,” he murmurs, nudging you gently with his head. “I hunger for something else.”

A quiet “oh” escapes your lips. It's more of a breath than a word, but you obey without trying to say anything else. Your movements are slow and deliberate as you lower yourself to the ground. Your eyes are still locked in his intense gaze. The cold, uneven ground presses against your skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. It barely offers any protection from the roughness and the cold beneath you. Goosebumps wake on your skin, but you are sure it has more to do with the dragon than anything else. You’re very aware of how exposed you are, both physically and emotionally, as you settle down before him. Diman watches you with a look that’s a mix of hunger and intent. His eyes glow with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His attention is heavy and burning. His massive form shifts closer. His breath is warm against your skin. There’s a powerful, magnetic pull between you two that sparkles under the silence that settled over the hall in the last few minutes. It's primal and impatient. His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every detail and every breath you take, and for a long moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The cave, the firelight, the very air around you, all of them fade into the background. Your nipples harden into tight peaks under the white fabric you wear. Your arms start to move to hide yourself, but you decide against it at the last moment. Instead, you rest your hands on your stomach and open your legs without Diman having to tell you what to do. The mix of the cold mountain air and his warm breath fans over your center, making your pussy clench around nothing. The sudden feeling takes your breath away for several seconds. The dragon didn't even touch you yet, but you are already damp and eager. The muscles of your thighs are hard, and your insides tremble with anticipation. Your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, pushing the soft globes of your breasts against the nightgown. The fabric clings to your skin as Diman's golden eyes trace over your form. His gaze is intense as he takes in the sight of you laid out before him. He hasn’t touched you yet, but the promise of what’s to come hangs thick in the air, a palpable tension that has your heart racing. You can feel his warmth and his presence, so close yet not close enough, and it drives your desire even higher.

"Good, mate," Diman rumbles with satisfaction. "Open up for me even more."

With a shaky breath, you obey, forcing your legs further apart. You can feel the stretch of your tendons, the pull of your muscles as you do exactly as he commands. The hem of your nightgown slips down, gathering around the base of your thighs, leaving you bare and utterly vulnerable before him. Your lips are dry as you wait for his reaction, and your cheeks are hot with need and a hint of embarrassment.

His eyes rove over your exposed form once again. His warm breath fans over your center, over your whole body, making you quiver with anticipation.

"Such a beautiful sight," the dragon murmurs. His voice is a low growl that makes your pussy clench with need. He leans in closer, his large head hovering just above your thighs. The approval in his gaze makes you feel both cherished and possessed.

Your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears as you lay there, completely exposed. The rough texture of the ground beneath you only serves to remind you of the dragon's power above. His large form makes the cave look small as you look up at him with anticipation. Your whole body is tense as you wait for him to do something.

And when he does, you forget how to breathe.

Diman's tongue flicks out. The tip barely brushes against your inner thighs, and yet, it sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Maybe if your mind would be clearer, you would be embarrassed because of your reaction, but the haze is already too thick in your head to care. He moves slowly and exploratory. His tongue traces patterns across your skin but never goes further up than the base of your thighs. Each touch and caress is something new you both try to savor.

"You're perfect, little mate," Diman whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

His presence is overwhelming, his scales cool and firm against your skin, while the heat of his breath washes over you in waves when finally, his enormous head settles down between your legs. You feel the sheer magnitude of his closeness in every fiber of your body.

His tongue, wide and powerful, flicks out to tease you. The rough texture sends jolts of pleasure through your core. He starts slowly, almost lazily, trailing his tongue along your inner thighs, leaving a tingling, wet path of warmth in its wake. The contrast between his cool scales and the heat of your arousal is intoxicating.

When you waited for him at the top of the hill, you never imagined it would lead to this, that you would end up breathless and aroused beneath the beast. A wry smile tugs at your lips, thinking of the people you once knew. They have no idea how much of a favor they’ve done for you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as his tongue finally makes contact with your pussy and cuts the train of your thoughts. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine. His tongue is wet and rough just enough the make you buck your hips against him while he watches your every reaction with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His molten gold eyes are filled with a hunger that only stokes the fire within you. The black slits of his pupils are almost orbs as he tries to take you in.

He takes his time, exploring you with slow movements that leave you on the edge of madness. The rough texture of his tongue adds a delicious friction that makes you moan with need. Your hips lift again, seeking more of his touch, but Diman holds you in place with a gentle but unyielding pressure, savoring the control he has over your body.

“Diman,” you breathe, his name escaping your lips in a desperate plea. The tension inside you coils tighter with each teasing stroke. Your body aches for release.

“Patience, little mate,” he rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through you like a physical caress. Your back arches at the feeling. The sound alone sends a pulse of arousal straight to your core, making you clench around nothing. His words only heighten the anticipation building inside of you.

He dips lower, circling your entrance with agonizing slowness, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. The tip of his tongue traces your folds, gathering your wetness and savoring your taste with a low, approving hum that resonates through you. He flicks your clit over and over again until your thighs tighten around his large jaw and nose. He teases you restlessly, slipping down across your folds and going straight to your entrance. He prods you there for an endless moment, making you whine and fidget with impatience bubbling in your chest.

The dragon laughs at that, and the rumble of his chuckle echoes in your body. The feeling punches a moan out of your lips, and you barely have time to come back to your senses when his tongue slides inside you with a slow, deliberate push. He fills you up in a way that’s both overwhelming and strange. The wet muscle penetrates you, making you cry out breathlessly. Your back arches off the ground almost painfully, and your walls clench around the thickness of his tongue, only making it rub over your sensitive spots even more. He moves in and out of you as he fucks you with a measured, unhurried pace. He lets his tongue soak in your arousal while he listens to the sweet sounds you make. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen with your half-closed eyes and trembling muscles. He can feel every flutter of your pussy around his tongue as he pushes deeper, finding every spot that makes your voice go higher with several octaves.

The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear. Your body is stretched and filled by the sheer size of his tongue. Each of his movements is precise, calculated to drive you to the brink without ever pushing you over the edge. You can feel every inch of him, every ripple and curve of his tongue as it slides in and out of you. The sensation swirls the world around you once, twice, three times.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need-” The end of your sentence is drowned by the ragged breath that bursts out of your lips as you wheeze and pant.

Diman’s response is a low, satisfied growl that reverberates through your entire body. He increases the pace slightly, his tongue fucking you with a slow, steady rhythm that has you gasping for air. The pressure builds inside you, a hot, insistent ache that demands release, and your body tightens with each thrust. You feel like a drawn bow.

And...

and...

He pulls back just enough to flick his tongue over your clit. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves through your entire body, yet you cry out in frustration. Tears gather in your eyes, and your hips buck up against him as you chase the high that’s just got out of reach. Diman seems to relish in your desperation, his tongue alternating between fucking you deep and teasing your clit with a maddening, feather-light touch.

The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you, every muscle in your body straining as you teeter on the edge of release. The dragon's tongue works you with a relentless, skillful precision, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until you’re a quivering, breathless mess beneath him.

“Let go,” he murmurs. His voice is like a deep, soothing rumble that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “I want to feel you come for me, little mate.”

His words are the final push you need as his tongue finds its way inside you with a quick, bullying motion. Your body surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure that crashes over you like a tidal wave. The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. Your muscles contract and release in a rhythm that matches the waves of ecstasy flooding your veins. You, your body, and your orgasm are in sync with the rapid thrust of his tongue that pounds in and out of you as you fall over the edge.

Diman doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every touch sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you. Your climax and his saliva are a mess of mix between your thighs, soaking the floor underneath.

When he pulls back, his eyes glow with a satisfied light as he watches you catch your breath. His chest expands with pride at the sight of you. Your gown clings to your skin, highlighting the hard peaks of your nipples. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your skin under the orange glow of the fire. You are beautiful, and something in him, something primal and demanding, awakens again, but instead of burying himself between your soft thighs again, he just licks his lips to savor your taste while you slowly get back to your senses.

"Diman?" You breathe out his name, searching for him even though your eyes are still closed.

"I'm here, my love," he hums. "I won't go anywhere."

"What about you?" You ask him, and the dragon can't help but chuckle. His own arousal is still hard and leaking between his hind legs, but there is no way you are up to explore the physical possibilities between the two of you.

"I can wait," he says, hauling you up in his hand gently to settle down in his nest with you close to his massive head. "Sleep, my mate."

As the new mate of the dragon living among the clouds and resting in the mountains, your old life becomes a quickly fading memory. And when your love starts to rebuild his cave just to make it more of a home for you, you never look back. Not once.

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #sweet asks #monster smut #monster fucker #teratophillia #terat0philliac #exophelia #monsterfucker #terato #monster kink #monster lover #dragon x reader #dragon x human #dragon boyfriend #dragon smut

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cafe-smut · 5 months

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I need. Twisted Beastmen and the like. To be more animalistic. Not necessarily like, physically, I don't meant that in the furry sense. I mean that in the 'they're part animal and it'd not just for show' sense.

I want beastmen with claw like nails. Where the cat-like ones tend to walk on their toes when not wearing shoes because it feels right. Where their eyes and pupils reflect the animals that they're partly of. With fangs and teeth appropriate for their species.

Ruggie making laughing noises at the active prospect of food. Whooping when in a fight and needing backup. Lowing when excited for a fight.

Leona roaring to get the whole dorm's attention. Chuffing in greeting at people he considers part of his pride. (He'll sometimes grunt at Cheka like a mother would to her cubs but will deny it.)

Jack barking at danger to warn others and howling to try and figure out where his pack is (he forgets they can't howl back, but Ruggie will sometimes low at him and Yuu definitely tries to howl back.)

I want to see Azul with the tips of his limbs in human form retain some of his octopus natural ability to camouflage. I want to see his hands always moving, grabbing something, holding something. Azul who might not have bones in human form with how flexible he is??

The tweels who aren't very active naturally during the day but get really hyperactive at night. Who bare their teeth at people when excited.

Che'nya who lounges in the sun on lazy days. Who's great at stretching and popping everywhere in his body if he needs to, to a concerning degree.

GIMME FEY WHO DONT ACT HUMAN

Malleus who snorts smoke when he's angry. Malleus who wear gloves because he got claws. Malleus who has a tail and wings outside of his dragon form sometimes.

Lilia who gets just a bit too excited at the prospect of a fight and spilling blood. Who can recognize a person by the smell of their blood. Who makes inhuman noises when too excited and gives off a very eldritch horror kind of vibe if he lets loose.

Sebek who can be found eating rocks sometimes. Who finds quiet in thunder and lightning. Who can move so smoothly and silently you don't know he's there until he opens his maw. Who has a lot of really sharp teeth for someone with a human mouth.

Just- gimme some animal, like, REALISM. PLEASE.

#twisted wonderland #twst malleus #twst ruggie #twst leona #twst lilia #twst headcanons #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst jack #twst jade #twst floyd #twst azul #twst sebek

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sobfultoast · 6 months

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•~°◇ Just the Little Human Things ◇°~•

Prompt: Humans and demons are different, no duh. There are some things that we do naturally that shocked and freak out the brothers. Here are some random few (each linked to a specific brother, like 1 means Lucifer, etc).

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.

• ~ ° ◇ ° ~ •

1. Cracking bones.

You spent a long day dealing with your studies. Your fingers cramped. So you cracked them. Lucifer was appalled. He thought you just broke yourself. Lucifer goes straight to you and asks if you just broke your finger or something along those lines. After calming him down and just explaining that you were popping the air bubbles in your joints because they ached, he was more appalled.

Humans can get air bubbles in between their bones?! That's so weird. Demons can't crack their joints. If they make any cracking noise, they probably cracked their bones.

At least you're not hurt. That is all that matters to him.

2. Adrenaline.

Demons have instincts like humans, but they don't have adrenaline. They have the same amount of strength and power, no matter the situation. No amount of tension will give them a random boost in a fight. Humans do. It's called adrenaline (SHOCKING). Boosting our stamina, pain tolerance, reaction time, and strength. It's like a superpower! A superpower that Mamon was unaware of at the time.

You both were running from trouble, as normal. Even though your body was in its flight or fight, no amount of adrenaline will make you run as fast as the fastest demon in hell! So how was he supposed to know! It was until there was a dead end. The door was locked. Mammon was about to use some magic to open it because the angry demons were very close behind you guys. before he could, BAM! You ram right into it and smash it open

What. The. Hell??? Are you on steroids or something?!

Once you escape, Mammon has so many questions. He now thinks adrenaline is so cool.

3. Being social animals.

Demons aren't necessarily social creatures. Some will go millennias without talking to anything, and they don't go insane. It's just a lot of demons like socialising. Levi is not one of those demons, though. Levi will go some months without speaking to anyone, even some days without speaking to his brothers. He thought humans were the same. He didn't know that it could cause mental issues like insanity or depression.

Levi only found out because he was watching a horror anime, where a human character was isolated for months and went insane. He thought it was fiction, but then he asked you. As soon as yes leaves your mouth, he is in utter disbelief.

Now he feels bad whenever he has you holed up in his room. Don't you want to socialise? He wouldn't mind if you went to party with Asmo and Mammon... At least he'd try not to mind. Are you sure you're okay with just him? Yeah? ... He thinks he is okay with just you, too.

4. Humans on the moon?

When you came to devildom, even though Satan wasn't that close to you, he did research about humans out of curiosity. Satan learnt about human history, myths & legends, science (a.k.a human magic), medicine, and even decided to research human technology.

The only thing he didn't know was that humans went to the moon. When he was doing human history, he was doing ancient human history. Being a demon who was immortal, Satan classed anything from the last 100 years as morden to him. He was alive during it. He should know when it happens. But somehow, no one talked about the humans landing on the moon.

You wanted to know if demons had also gone to space, and he answered with, "No. Some of angels have... What do you mean also?" Humans, flightless and magicless fleshbags, have gone to the stars?!

5. Baby teeth falling out.

Asmodeus wanted to see childhood pictures of you! He was going on about how cute you were until he saw that in one of your photos that you were missing a tooth?! Asmo didn't know you were missing a tooth! He immediately tried to look in your mouth for that missing tooth, but there was a tooth there?! What?! Did you get some sort of tooth surgery?

Demons and angels don't have baby teeth. They are made not to naturally lose any of their teeth, and if they lose a tooth, they have to get a surjery to get it back. So, this concept is crazy to them.

Asmo was thankful it was natural. You made him panic!

6. Stretch marks.

Demons have rapid regeneration, so they don't get stretch marks. The scars just heal immediately as it isn't a deep wound to them.

Beelzebub had no idea humans could get them. He thought some demon attacked or tried to put a hex on you, but once you explained it to him, it blew his mind. Losing or gaining weight causes these marks? Humans are stretchy??? That's cute.

Beelzebub likes running his hand over the marks. It's fascinating to him.

7. Modern medicine.

Belphegor knew a lot about humans due to his human phase when he was an angel. There isn't anything that you do that surprises him. Belphie even knows humans went to the moon because he is an astrology girlie. But he is clueless about morden medicine.

Belphie lost interest in humans when he fell, obviously. He didn't want to interact with humans after his hatred for them developed. So he has no idea about morden human medicine.

Humans don't use frog eggs anymore? They were unsafe? Really? Belphie thought they worked. He did not know humans were just as unknowledgable as he was back then. Belphie learnt after you accidentally got a paper cut, and Belphie said he'd go get the plasters and leeches.

You had to tell him that the leaches were outdated by a few decades.

•~°◇ Have a kind day! ◇°~•

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #om beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #om belphegor #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om belphie

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hanasnx · 6 months

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hip to be square.

“You’ve worked up quite a sweat.” PATRICK BATEMAN notes in thinly veiled repulsion. Those cruel hands on your hips restrain themselves, and you can feel that tension against you. Instead, he pours his ample strength into yanking you back on him, choked sounds emit from your gaping mouth. In a way, this is an obligation, he can't really enjoy the way your cunt squeezes him, or how his thumbs fit those perfect back dimples—not in the way he wants to. If it were up to him, he'd squeeze the life out of you while he screwed those lifeless brains to pieces. Finally a bitch like you would be put to good use, eyes rolling back as the lack of oxygen grows black dots in your vision. You'd claw at his grip around your neck, easing in to crushing your windpipe, the light would die as he watched, and he wouldn't even falter in his pace. Those hips would still be fucking you, like he is now.

Hard and rough, it hurts. Abusing your cervix as you're bent over the perfect white covers of his California King. You bounce on him like you want more, but in reality you're limp as he directs your body the way he wants it to move. An irrefutable force against you that you are powerless to soothe, unbeknownst to you your only line of defense to protect you from his wrath is the ring on your finger.

You're engaged to him.

In his eyes it was an unavoidable tragedy. All his friends are your friends, you live in his area, and you're a ten minute commute from work. If he's looking to blow off steam during lunch, he'll pop in for a visit and use you up with a pillow covering your head. You don't catch on to the fact he doesn't want to look at you while he ravages you, never question why he insists on hitting it from the back if he can help it. It aids that you've got a nice ass, plump and round and fits in his palms when he handles it. When you aren't being a priss, sometimes you'll let him slip a finger into your asshole. At one point he managed to convince you to let him fist you, but he'd slipped you one to many things that night, narrowly avoiding a messy emergency room visit. There was no way he was going to wait up for you in such a place so late at night. What would he have told everybody? That his fiancée was some junkie? Absolutely not.

Nails dig into your skin at the memory, the salt of sweat burning that raw that makes you mewl. He steels himself from demanding you shut up, instead assuaging the urge by smacking your hand away when you reach back to hold his in a petty attempt to get him to let up. Cruelly, he drills you. Those pathetic noises release in pain, you don't even sound human. "What are you to me?" he spits, looming over your little body as his every muscle contracts fucking into you at a reckless pace. You're sore from his weight, but you can't do a thing about it when being treated like shit never felt so good. A ring of cream foams at his base, taken from you as your cunt confuses punishment for desperation, your expression twisting so hard you'll get wrinkles early. He'll have to divorce you before that happens, otherwise people will think him vain. "Answer me, you idiot, you're supposed to answer me."

Somehow, you don't notice how he's talking to you. How it's different than the cold and distant nature you're accustomed to in public. "Nothing." you breathe out. "I'm nothing." You chase whatever you can get your hands on, scrambling for whatever stupid response you can muster in this state. Apparently, it pleases him, a sea of moans flowing out through his deep voice as he satiates himself using you like a sock with your name on it in his room.

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alexanderwales · 2 months

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A fantasy worldbuilding idea on what to do with making humans special:

Humans have comparatively insane endurance. Most other species are like cats, spending only 4-6 hours a day "active", which includes time spent playing, working, eating, and interacting with others. The remaining 18-20 hours are spent sleeping or in light rest. Humans putting in eight hours of work every day seems insane, and it seems even more insane when they realize that there's an additional eight hours of cooking, eating, socialization, and play. Human armies aren't feared because they have powerful warriors, they're feared because they can do a fifteen mile march in a day. Humans don't produce the best goods, but because they work so many more hours in a day, they can produce a lot more.

There are a few consequences of this. For one, most of the fantasy races will tend to stay pretty close to their homes, given that travel takes time. If they do travel, that travel has to be in the form of either swiftly moving places in a limited time (e.g. with horses) or a form of travel that allows them to be in "light rest" mode (e.g. lazing about in a wagon). The elves might have grand ships that allow six different shifts of elven sailors, because that's the only way they can keep up with a human navy, and this would obviously have all kinds of cool downstream implications.

In a city that's not dominated by humans, you might either get a "high intensity" four hour block where all business gets done, or alternately, depending on physiology, you might have elven shopkeepers sleeping on their feet, only stirring when someone comes in with some business, and of course there's a limit on how many customers an elf could handle in a day, and some etiquette about not entering a shop unless it's going to be worth the elf's limited time.

I'm continually picturing my cats, who actually do sleep or rest for about twenty hours out of the day. They have a way of lifting their head to see whether a noise or vibration warrants their attention, then settling back down with a huff when it turned out to be a noisy human. This is, in my mind, very close to being elf behavior already.

But if all fantasy races are going to have limited endurance, then I do think it's important to have it be implemented in different ways depending on the species. Here are some ideas:

Elves are like cats, lazing about, extremely fast and agile in their high-power moments, but mostly yawning and stretching, conserving energy for the times of need.

Dwarves have a more strict and structured four hour stretch, which cannot be broken up. Once they're roused for the day, that's it, they have to make the most of it, and this is one of the reason that they disdain delays, dithering, and other things that don't make productive use of their precious four hours.

Orcs go through a personality shift when they're in "waking mode", and while they never actually sleep, a dormant orc is physically smaller, listless, and difficult to engage in conversation. In a first contact scenario, it might be possible to regard these as two separate species, or to imagine that one "form" is male and the other female.

Gnomes have relatively rapid alternating cycles of sleep and wake, with their four hours of activity stretched across the day in half-hour chunks. Gnomes workmen often fall asleep in the middle of crafting, then lift their heads from their benches and continue on as though they had only been asleep for seconds rather than several hours. (For this reason, gnomes often have fire-stoppers built into their homes and workplaces that will quench their flames if they nod off in the midst of work. It also limits their ability to work with flame in general.)

#worldbuilding #writing

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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

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facefullofsadness · 23 days

Text

when succubus!winrina are summoned

g!p demon!jiminjeong x human!reader

smut, 2k wc

happy extremely belated birthday (like can I even classify this as a bday post anymore?) to the most annoying person I know @aliceiwk because she didn't wanna tell me her bday even though I was gonna find out eventually bc I was gonna post this ANYWAY. is late as FUCK (literally an entire month PLUS late omg) bc of school, travel, other reasons wtv, but that wasn't gonna stop me!!! soooo yes mwah mwah lub u enjoy ur jiminjeong threesome!!

when yizhuo and aeri had the bright idea of doing a silly little demon summoning session for funsies, you screamed at them in horror. what the actual fuck kind of idea is that? the two girlfriends' justification was simply for shits and giggles! I mean, that shit isn't real anyway, right? there's no ACTUAL fucking shot demons would come to haunt you guys if you tried conjuring em up!

somehow, someway, yall ended up in a circle with some candles, some salt, a shady looking book, and a dark ass room. being in the actual moment sent chills down your spine, the summer nights being quite cold to accompany such a stupid idea you and your friends were going through with. when your last minute effort to back out, stop, and instead watch horror movies to get their spooky fill failed, the two girls begin flipping pages of the book.

"what aboutttt demon of gluttony?" the small girl asks, pondering which demon to summon.

"there's not a lot of things to do with that," the taller girl replies, one arm propped up behind her girlfriend, checking her nails on the other hand.

"demon of wrath?"

"we've all got enough anger combined to need that one."

"demon of sloth!"

"fuck does that even mean?"

"ooohhhh!! y/n desperately needs this one, demon of lust."

"oh, perfect!"

"hey wait what is that supposed to mean?!" you butt in.

"now now, it's okay to badly want head! we're just helping you out!"

aeri raises her hands up and reaches out to pull you into the chair placed in the middle of a pentagram surrounded in candles. you put your face in your hands, shaking your head at the reality of what was currently happening.

"now just sit tight and soon enough you'll stop complaining about your celibacy!"

performing the ritual was goofier than you expected it to be. with the accompaniment of yizhuo's unserious reading of the spell, aeri's cackle everytime her girlfriend stuttered, and forgetting to pause the music, having txt's blue hour playing in the background, it was hard to take anything seriously. having to go through with the summoning ritual twice because the first time was so botched, thinking doing it again would make sure it "worked".

unsurprisingly, nothing happened. ning was disappointed, to which aeri had to kiss away her pout, but you were relieved because what the fuck would have possibly happened if it worked? you sent the girls home after making them clean the stupid ritual up, collapsing on your mattress and passing out.

in the dead of night, two figures emerge from the shadows, the darkness of your room enveloping the strangers. you're completely asleep, your peaceful breathing and spinning ceiling fan the only white noise to mask the echoey voices across the room.

"what are you doing here?"

"I was summoned, I could ask the same question to you."

"why would I purposefully go somewhere you are?"

"it's simple, you're obsessed with me or something."

"not as obsessed as you are with me."

the shadowy figures huff in the darkness before staring back at your slumbering body.

one of them smirks and scoffs, "horny slut must've summoned both of us."

"how fascinating, I was worried it was gonna be a man again," the other figure tilts her head to the side, observing your sleeping face.

"ugh, one thing we can finally agree on, men aren't nearly as fun or tempting as women."

the being observing your face brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes, "girls are just so delicious."

the two look at each other and exchange a sinister smile, almost agreeing to be civil through eye contact.

"then let's have our fun tonight yeah, winter?"

"only if you share, karina."

you were awoken to your body being thrown around, your back sinking into the mattress, wrists pinned on either side of you, eyes shooting open with a gasp, shaking you out of your sleep. foggy sight clearing and eyes adjusting to the darkness slowly as two figures come into view, women (?), or as your mind would rationalize them to be.

two shadowy women with rustic obsidian horns growing through their skulls, dark tails swaying behind them, black leather-like wings spanning out from their backs, and dark red orbs emanating aura from their eyes. you're frozen into place, your eyes doing all the talking as they observe the figures pinning you down with their talon-like claws, skimpy leather outfits hugging the pale women's milky skin.

you want to scream, thrash, do something, but all you can do is stare at them, eyes darting back and forth between the dark-haired and blonde creatures.

"awww, look at her, such an innocent little thing," the blonde coos, her voice reverberating, almost as if she had a filter over it.

the dark haired girl replies, voice heavy with reverb and seduction, "but she's not, she needed to be fucked senseless by two of us, isn't that right?"

you're speechless, mouth opening to answer but no noise escaping. no way... was this a result of that stupid summoning ritual you guys did earlier that night? it... worked? BOTH TIMES???

"can't speak, can you? do humans not understand what consequences of your actions mean? didn't your people come up with that saying?" the darker one pouts, pulling back from your face to straddle one of your legs, knee slotting itself perfectly between your thighs.

the blonde one giggles, her sinister tone sending shivers down your spine, "fuck I cannot wait to consume you, you're extremely enticing."

somehow, you speak, voice heavy with confusion, fear, and exhaustion, "what the fuck are you?"

the two exchange a sly smirk, looking at each before turning back to you, "exactly what you asked for, demons of lust."

succubus, it had clicked in your head as you further observed their features, feeling their nails digging into your skin, the pain confirming you were in fact not dreaming.

"don't worry little one, we'll give you everything you want."

the blonde demon's tail wraps around both of your wrists, the dark-haired demon releasing you from her grip, letting the other pin your hands down and back above you. the blonde settles next to your head, her crotch emanating heat in front of your face. she takes a handful of your hair and grips the back of your head, pulling your face up and lowering herself to meet you, your scalp stinging in her hold.

"be a good fucking whore and let us do what we want with you, you'll enjoy every second of it."

she pushes your cheek against her crotch, her addicting scent filling your nose, feeling her hard appendage press against your face. meanwhile, the dark-haired girl between your thighs digs her knee against your core, whimpering at the pressure, having only worn panties and a t-shirt to bed.

the taller girl's cold hands grip your exposed thighs, digging her nails into your skin, making you hiss. she trails her hands under your shirt, ghosting her fingers over your waist and dragging her claws across your stomach. her hands are greedy, moving at a moderate pace but every touch is so intense and rough, knuckles now rubbing against your soaking underwear, friction brushing against your clit.

everything happens so fast as you swear you black out every few seconds the more their touches advance on your body. before you know it, you're choking on the demon called winter, the other succubus grinding her knee against your bare pussy being karina. you moan against the blonde's cock as she thrusts mercilessly into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as tears spill from your eyes, the pleasure from the dark-haired girls needy hands on your hips forcing your body to roll against her knee with your panties pushed to the side, cunt leaking with your juices, making the movements slick, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.

"yeah little slut? like that big cock in your throat? can't speak huh? fucking whore," winter degrades above you, holding your head with both of her hands to control just how relentlessly she ruins your throat.

karina chuckles darkly below you, watching her pull away and lower her face to your pulsing core, "she is a whore, just look at how fucking wet this bitch is. she's practically a waterfall of cum."

through blurry, tear-filled eyes, you watch as karina's split tongue circled your hot clit, feeling its unforgiving movements dance across your aching slit as it flicks against your bud and hole simultaneously somehow. not that you question it, falling into an inevitable sub-space, your mind completely broken just as quickly as they had started fucking you.

you feel winter's member so deeply down your throat, it bulges in your neck, her rugged panting and breathing making the onslaught of your body worth it. all your noises are choked and silent however, karina's skillful mouth maneuvering your burning insides and throbbing outsides, the hums from her throat vibrating against your entire pussy. the sensation of winter's creamy cum flowing down your throat makes you roll your eyes back, not needing to swallow as her load slides down your esophagus easily.

"couldn't you be at least a little patient?" an annoyed karina pulls away from your pussy to complain, tugging your limp body up against her chest, winter's cock slipping from your swollen mouth.

the blonde's heavy breathing is accompanied by a reverberating chuckle as she responds, "don't be jealous, you get to taste the bitch's pussy, I should be the aggravated one."

the taller girl replies with a grunt, "fine, but I'm cumming in her cunt first."

"oh no, we're sharing that fucking hole," you feel the other succubus' body heat on your back, pressing her front against you, her still hard monster cock tapping against your ass.

"you are so fucking annoying," karina mumbles before pulling out her hard dick and slipping it between your folds, collecting your slick, pushing into your tight hole as you scream painfully at the intrusion.

she immediately sets an unforgiving pace, mercilessly pounding her throbbing member into your aching heat, holding you against her chest by your waist, your face in her shoulder as you sobbed in pain, the pleasure slowly creeping in. the girl behind you spits on her dick, spreading the saliva before forcing herself in you too, joining karina's relentless thrusting. tears flow from your eyes as bloodcurdling screams escape your already sore throat, the two demons' lengthy and girthy cocks tearing your tight cunt apart, drool leaking from your mouth as your brain abandons consciousness, completely broken and ruined from them fucking you.

winter pants against your ear as her hands sink into your hips, drilling you from behind, "you're gone now, aren't you doll? you've become our little cumslut to treat like a toy, haven't you?"

her words don't process in your fucked out head, nodding mindlessly to her question.

karina against you moans as your pussy squeezes around both of them, pushing in as winter pulls out, "taking us so well, little whore. that's right, be the good fucking slut you are and take it. take all of it."

they continue to absolutely annihilate your insides with their aggressive ramming, never stopping as they used your body like a sextoy, throwing you around like a ragdoll, pounding into you like you were just their property. the sound of wet skin slapping together and their loud, frustrated breathing filled your barely functioning auditory senses as you feel both of them stiffen against you, hot cum filling you, stuffing you full of their seed.

your lifeless body slumps against karina's front, winter holding you up as someone, unsure of who due to your barely conscious state, breathlessly comments against your ear, "we're far from finished, little one."

and they keep their word, not stopping the entire night, their split tongues working in tandem on each of your nipples, lapping at both of your holes as they seep pleasure, their cocks exploring every inch of your greedy orifices, letting you feel every bit of lust they harbor towards your mortal body. they fuck you until you break, until they ruin every part of you, until your begs and pleads grow silent, until time ceases to exist, the only thing in your sorry brain you can possibly process are karina and winter. and maybe when you're free, you'll thank aeri and yizhuo.

a/n: yeah their cocks probably have ridges and stuff but I didn't think about that while writing it, maybe next time <3 #welovemonstercock !!! can this even be classified as a short like this shit is long, oh whale

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