Cannibal Town Mob Characters & Reader, Rosie & Reader (not x Reader since there is no explicitly romantic content, though it could be read as such.) Notes: (consensual!) cannibalism, amputation, noncon mention (unrelated to reader), death mentions, AKA Reader is kept for meat by Cannibal Town and gets protected in return.
Please don’t read this to upset/trigger yourself, this is essentially a cannibalism kink fic, though it doesn’t contain any sexual content or graphic violence. You have been warned.
There are two main ways to make quick cash in the Pride Ring.
One of these is to sell your soul for money. It certainly is not unheard of for some deals to be struck, especially not for those particularly desperate or down on their luck, but most would not want permanent servitude in exchange for money alone. A soul is a hefty price to pay indeed, no matter what is offered in return.
The second, and far more popular method, is to sell one’s body. Usually, this refers to sex work. There are a dime a dozen demons offering to suck you off or fuck you silly for, frankly, self-abasing prices. But this work is far without its own risks. If you don’t rely on your instincts, you could easily get butchered by a trick. Even if you can, quite literally, pull yourself back together afterward, that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. Not to mention, if you get too popular, you could easily get swooped up and ‘forcefully employed’ by someone like Valentino.
There are some who, because of the risks of the former, choose to take another route. It is not much better of an option, really. But if one wants quick money without working, how can they expect to have a game rigged in their favour?
The last, and least used way, to ‘get rich quick’ in the Pride Ring, is to sell your body parts to Cannibal Town. The rarer and more special type of demon you are, the more money it’ll fetch you, of course. The citizens of Cannibal Town might just as easily gang up on someone and tear them apart for coming too close, but there are those who simply want to cook up a nice meal for their husband at home, or the like. The meat for this is provided through such means.
The reason why such a thing is not far more popular is because, despite being unable to die and one’s limbs regrowing without a shred of doubt, is that it is excruciatingly painful to go through. Cannibals, as a rule, prefer their meat to be as untarnished as possible. Anything such as sedatives, drugs, or sleeping pills, is certain to ruin the flavour, in one way or another. According to them, at least. No matter one’s desperation, to get willingly dismembered or disemboweled is a bridge that only a scarce few are willing to cross.
You are not among those people. Though you hadn’t stayed in Cannibal Town for the money, either.
Rather, it was the protection from all kinds of demons running around the streets of Pride, the unpredictable and unforgivable nature of life there. You’re a rather humanoid-looking demon, at least from a distance, and aided you in your popularity within Cannibal Town. Sinners with such appearances as yours are rare, after all. That was the sole reason you weren’t torn apart on the spot when getting close to the town in what citizens would have described as ‘improper attire’. No, one of them had recognised your worth for what it was, and brought you over to Rosie.
She was utterly delighted to see a cutie such as yourself, and seeing the haggard and twitchy state of your being, immediately offers you an agreement. The entire protection and care of the colony, in return for a… Hm, a regular consumption of your body, is that how she shall put it? Rosie talks of the subject with an airy tone and a genuine smile on her face, the entire attitude of hers entirely surprising to you.
To put it frankly, she was the nicest demon you have met in Hell so far— And the most honest about her intention of hurting you, too. The sharpness of her teeth isn’t something that passed you by, nor the way she keeps looking you up and down. If it weren’t for her beliefs in decorum, you have the feeling she would be salivating.
She can sense your obvious nerves, and pulls back a little. You don’t have to offer your soul, if that’s what you’re worried about, dear. Just look at it as… A mutually beneficial relationship! You won’t have to worry about a thing for the rest of eternity anymore, and we will get another regular food source! Rest assured, you’ll be able to get plenty of rest in between. You shift from one feet to the other, both nervous from the mere discussion of the situation of being eaten, and the general idea of having an Overlord sitting in front of you, being so nice to you. You swallow. Will it… Hurt? You ask. Because, really, if it doesn’t, you might seriously start considering this. It is an insane thought even to yourself, but life in Hell hasn’t been easy for you, one who wasn’t gifted with physical strength nor some kind of strange power. You’re merely a run-of-the-mill Sinner, and for demons such as yourself, you have to resort to doing some strange things in order to survive. Rosie’s smile softens. Oh, dear, is that what you’re so worried about? She flicks her wrist as if waving away all of your worries. I’m sure you have seen my people out and about, tearing up some poor, unfortunate fellow, haven’t you? Is that the image you have of us? You nod, immediately and rapidly, feeling your eyes widening. Rosie laughs a little at the strength of your response, and leans forward, elbows leaned on the table in between the two of you. The tea in her cup moves a little, nearly sloshing over the rim. Well, let me tell you a little secret. I won't lie, and say that doesn't happen often, because it does. But it won't be your fate, dear. In fact... That’s not what you’ll be treated like at all! She leans back, hands folded in front of her on the table. No, I can promise you that, as long as I’m here, it’ll be as comfortable and painless as possible! You’ll get treated like royalty, I promise. Now, the specifics of such a procedure are not the type of thing appropriate over teatime, my dear, but I will tell you that you will be all blacked out sooner than you can count to ten!
You know that you can never truly die down here, still, the idea of being hurt is still terrifying to you. It would place in an immense amount of trust in the hands of the other party, to allow yourself to be torn apart, and have the belief that you simply won’t be tortured into infinity. And yet… You know that, out there, you would simply return to a life on the streets, knowing that every demon you look at wrong might as well bash your skull in. Would it be… That bad to try? You’d heard stories before, but never met anyone, who’d gone through with something like this. So, rather than immediately denying, you ask for more details. The protection of the colony means exactly what it sounds like. Within the confines of Cannibal Colony, everyone looks out for each other like a family, and, then, that would include you. If you were to venture outside of the colony, you could always have to get someone accompanying you. But I don’t believe you would want to go out much once you get settled in. Rosie tells you. Plus, this protection is to a point. You seem to be a sweetheart, dear, so I don’t think I need to say this, but no angering Overlords, or anything like that! That’s all on you, if it happens. Care, on the other hand, meant that you would get all of your needs provided for. Things like food, clothes, and shelter would all be taken care of for you, rather than a possible disaster waiting to happen. (Oh, I know my people can seem a little rough… Well, ravenous, around the edges. But they really are sweethearts at their core, you know!) You make a choice that could either ruin the rest of eternity for you, or make it a whole lot more pleasant. …Could I try it out, just once?
The first time going through it all, you were incredibly nervous and antsy. Even despite the beautiful room, the well-fitting clothes, and the regular meals provided to you, you were afraid that they would simply jump at you and tear you apart at any moment. And, sure, some of the inhabitants do look at you like a slab of meat walking around, especially during first meetings. You even got your arms pinched once or twice, but it never went any further than that. It had always seemed to you that the people of Cannibal Town were an uncontrollable force, driven by pure bloodlust more often than not but, it seemed, they were perfectly capable of restraining themselves when the situation called for it.
You come to know some of the other demons in similar situations to you, and there are not a lot of them. Either they look entirely ‘familiar’, whereas you look nearly identical to a human person, there is a female demon who looks as close to a sheep as they get, there are also a few who are downright strange— So unlike any other demon you’ve ever seen before, that you may understand why they would be interested in how one might taste. They’re all good-natured (it seems that Rosie isn’t all too fond of allowing troublemakers inside her little community), and happy to have someone new alongside themselves.
You quickly learn that most of the meat found here is either from unfortunate victims wandering in, or from people selling parts of their body for some quick money. You, on the other hand, would be considered a more ‘premium’ product, taken good care of and preserved carefully. One might think that this would create a kind of divide between you and the rest of the citizens, but it hardly does. There’s no lingering fear of death hanging over you, after all, even if parts of your body are consumed, even if all of you were consumed, it wouldn’t actually be going anywhere.
You find something in Cannibal Town that you haven’t found anywhere else in Hell: a sense of community. The men and women alike welcome you with open arms, always happy to welcome a new face open to their ways. Because you’re such a prized inhabitant, you never have to do any actual work, any of your attempts at doing so waved away.
But you’ll be taught how to dance and sing, which are favourite past times of the vast majority of citizens, dragged along from one celebration to the next. You’ll be taken to tea parties and asked to go on dinners, always greeted by everyone with a smile (Well… With a few exceptions) and, generally, treated well. You haven’t been this well-rested and fed since… Well, ever, down here, really, and you find yourself appreciating the choice you’ve made.
All the while, however, the idea of being eaten looms over you. And, eventually, you are awoken one day, and told that it’s time. It’s Rosie herself who comes to take and bring you to your appointment, as cordial and nice as ever.
Demons tend to get a little flighty, when it’s their first time. She tells you. I’ll be there to look after you, and make sure everything goes alright. You know what that translates to, really. She’s here to ensure you don’t take off running after all their hospitality, her hand clutched around your wrist, gently pulling you along. As long as she’s here, you know that you can’t escape.
Despite the reassurance from the other demons staying there (unlike the ones being paid in cash to offer their limbs) the process is nearly painless, you can’t stop the trembling in your legs. You are being dragged to your execution, or so to speak. Rosie rubs little circles on your skin with her thumb, but of course, it’s not enough to kill your nerves.
You’re made to undress behind a screen, and when you emerge, arms and hands covering your sensitive areas, shivering and covered in goosebumps, Rosie cooes at you. Oh, you poor thing. I promise, it’ll get better after the first time! Your eyes flit about the room. There’s a large table in the middle, seemingly made of steel, free of any suspicious stains. It’s wide enough to easily fit two of you on it, and Rosie pats it for you to sit on. She’s not the only demon in the room, another one standing in front of the doors, and another one in front of a curtain-covered window.
After a moment’s hesitation, you sit down, seeing no other way out of here. Rosie places her hand on your shoulder, and pushes you down until you’re in a lying position. Without a hint of hesitation, and her smile never wavering, she takes your arms, and places them next to your body, telling you that it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, dear, no need to be ashamed! And of course you still are. You feel exposed, in multiple senses of the word, not even physically, but also in the amount of trust it takes for you to lie here, unrestrained, and allow yourself to be taken apart— Knowing you’ll emerge once again, one day, but still. It’s almost… An intimate act, despite the clinical feel of the room.
Rosie places a hand on your cheek. With the other hand, she reaches for a pocket hiding amongst the seams of her dress, and takes out a knife. It’s long and sharp, the light catching on the blade just right, and making it gleam.
Now, I will tell you how this is going to go. Keep your eyes on me. She tells you, voice still as light and airy, as if you were merely talking about the weather. That really was one of her talents, you believed. She could sound completely harmless, regardless of the reality of the situation. Of the weapon in her hand.
I’m going to use this to pierce your heart. It will hurt for a moment, I cannot deny that, it’s simply the reality of the situation, my dear, but it will only be for a moment. After that, it’ll be like going to sleep, and once you wake up, all of this will be over, okay? You will be going into recovery, and all of us will be here to guide you every step of the way.
She shows you the tip of her blade, running it up the side of her finger. You’re frozen, every primal instinct left inside you screaming at you to run, but all of the colliding feelings of shame and fear and the knowledge of the futility of your struggle and the inevitability of it all leave you unable to move.
You have been so focused on Rosie’s words and explanation, to the blade pressed so close right above your racing heart, and absentmindedly, you wonder, why it’s not moving, your heart’s hammering against your ribcage, so why isn’t it creaking, why isn’t it bursting through?, that you haven’t noticed the other demon coming up behind you, the window in the corner now left unguarded. There is a sharp pain at the back of your neck, there is the sensation of your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and then there is nothing.
Rosie’s blade never even penetrated your skin.
You wake up in your own room, your assigned caretaker smiling wider as soon as you wake up. They are ready with an apology and an explanation, telling you that the kind of distraction used on you is procedure for the first time. It’s easier when you’re focused on something else, and don’t think anything’s going to happen yet; there’s less chance for you to struggle, and possibly hurt yourself. How are you feeling?
You are feeling… Better than you expected. Sore all over, exhausted, and your throat is parched. When you ask for water in a raspy sort of voice, a little cup is immediately pressed to your lips, and you can drink to your heart’s content. You’re scared to look down at your own body at first, nervous to see how much is taken from you. But you can feel the parts of you that are missing. A constant burning and itching travels through your shoulder and right thigh, the feeling of your limbs regenerating themselves. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not painful, either. The wounds are bandaged neatly, and they’ve already stopped bleeding. It takes a couple more days of bed rest, before you’re out and about again, rolling yourself around in a wheelchair specifically for this purpose.
And then, you are greeted with something you hadn’t been expecting. One of the Cannibal Town girls who helped teach you the kinds of dances you’d only recognized from old movies, approaches you with an even wider smile than usual. She presses a quick kiss to both of your cheeks, before saying that it’s so lovely to see you again! Oh, she really has to tell you, though she’s sure you’ve heard it before, but you are absolutely delicious— Did you know that? She giggles a little, taking out her fan and waving it a little, hiding her expression. It’s the best compliment you can get around here! Really, they’ll have to start a waiting list, with how many people are wanting to get even a little taste of you…!
It’s a strange compliment to receive, definitely, but it’s also… Oddly flattering? You can’t really do anything about tasting a certain way, but it’s still nice to be on the receiving end of such positive attention. Because she’s hardly the last to approach you with similar sentiments that day. Apparently, word has traveled fast, or little bits and pieces of your limbs have been shared amongst a large group of citizens, because almost everyone has something nice to say.
There are the ones who simply compliment you on your taste. Besides that, there are some who, in a way that seems to be closer to flirting than anything else, tell you that they wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of you raw any time. A few people share their ideas for recipes using your meat, while also making suggestions for types of diets you should consume, in order to steer your flavor into a certain direction. It’s a, honestly, overwhelming amount of attention, and you don’t know how to handle all of it.
Even Rosie invites you to teatime afterwards, not immediately getting into the heart of the topic. First, while offering you a cup of tea and a cookie, she asks you whether or not they got the right arm— We wanted to make it a bit easier on you by not taking your dominant hand! And then talks a bit about how the weather has been, and any large shifts around town that took place in the couple of days that you were down for the count.
Still, after a bit, she shows you the enthusiasm characteristic of her and her people, telling you of how she had one of your fingers for a snack, earlier, and oh, it was simply delightful! What’s your secret? She says, laughing hard enough for you to know that it’s a joke.
Please, she says, Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help your recovery along, dear! I knew you had potential the moment I saw you, and I’m glad to be proven right! She hums in thought. Next time, and, oh, it’ll be a while yet, don’t you worry, we’ll be taken all of your limbs. There will be someone assigned to take care of you as you regenerate, to feed and look after you. Dear, usually there’s a bit of a slower buildup, but demand is soaring as it is…!Something shifts in her gaze as she leans her chin on one of her hands, pupil-less eyes undoubtedly focused and yours. …And I wouldn’t mind getting a bit more of a taste, either.
It is a reminder that Rosie is still one of her people, and an Overlord for good reason. (There was also no room for argument, in regards to her taking more of your limbs.) It should scare you, perhaps, but these demons have treated you better than anyone else. Though there’s some lingering fear at the idea of a next time, you still smile at her in return. I hope everyone enjoys me next time, too.