Request: True form Sukuna claiming his offering in front of her village.
im gonna write this as a drabble :3
★tags/tw: uhh implied cannibalism + cervix fucking + sukuna is pretty misogynistic + fem!reader + discrimination against humans(?) idfk + true form!sukuna + loss of virginity
You delicately sit in the middle of the stage, introducing yourself to the slew of men and women scattered about like spilled salt on a kitchen table. Your legs are spread to present to them your blooming flower--still pink and untouched. It twitches under the many watchful eyes of diverse emotions--horror, confusion, lust, envy. They all poured down on you amid a lethal storm, droplets pounding your skin and soaking you thoroughly. You turn your head to avoid the plethora of wicked gazes. The feeling is overwhelming.
Behind you lies a demon. A great being, an entity that holds more power than anyone close or far. His teeth are sharp, his eyes are beady, and his stomach is hungry for the innocence of a fresh maiden. The people of your village brought you here. They made sure your scent was pleasant and that you were garbed in the cleanest of silk--your uchikake was adorned in floral patterns reminiscent of the trees that bloomed near your home.
They knew you'd be deemed a perfect offering for Sukuna-sama, the King of Curses--you're a sweet girl with a pure body, your breasts are full and your thighs are plump. They were sure if their King ever grew bored of you, he could easily dispose of your youthful frame by savoring your flesh and keeping your skull as a precious souvenir. Innocents always taste sweeter than most.
Though your legs were spread, they weren't spread enough for Sukuna as he already gripped your thighs with a strict pressure you weren't unfamiliar with. The squelch that leaves your pussy parts as he further widens your limbs was a sound everyone managed to capture. You're wet and slimy and maybe somewhat aroused. Your King is an attractive beast with a chiseled chin and a beguiling grin. Intricate, onyx lines surface the apex of his taut muscles and the sight makes you clench around thin air. You ponder on what he'd look like if he were a mere human such as yourself.
"All of you!" He starts, his voice booms through the premises and you're surprised by how powerful the echo is despite not being in an enclosed space. As expected, everyone gears their eyes toward the four-armed monster in preparation for his next words. "I want you mortal freaks to watch me fuck this girl you were so kind to offer me. If it hadn't been for this young duckling I would've already slaughtered this putrid village and watched my militia of curses swallow you whole."
He's quick for his size as he brings you onto his hefty lap, and from there you already feel one of his cocks coat itself against your wet slit. He's huge and lingering at the back of your mind, you wonder if you would die at first thrust. His tip is an angry red, livid from the languid teasing performed by its heaving owner from rubbing it across the length of your weeping cunt. It isn't long before his playful ministrations are seduced into slamming inside you.
You weren't even spared a moment of reconsideration for your hymen was already snapped into two, disintegrating upon impact. It would have been a shame to experience your deflowering with a prominent tummy bulge if it wasn't for how much your mind and soul revere the beast overlapping your weak presence.
You were his and he was his own as he violently hammered himself down to the hilt. You bathed him in the blood of a former virgin while he hits that bruised cervix within you. Your back is against that sculpted chest you worship dearly and his sweat rubs off on you is strong with his pheromones.
"Sukuna-sama," You mewl because he's so deep in your pussy that you can't fight back the urge to call out his name. He responds with a finger to your clit and a hand on your breast, making it his duty to circle a thick finger around your nipple.
"I don't remember granting you permission to speak now, did I?" His tone is dark enough to make you believe you've done something utterly wrong but your apology comes out in a series of wanton moans. He chuckles at how the pathetic always act so miserably.
"But since you're clasping around me so tightly," Burgundy red orbs glare at the side of your left cheek, previously moistened with tears of pain and gratitude. "I'll let your sheer idiocracy go. I don't think any of the past wenches you humans throw at me grip my dick this hard. I assume they were used up til they were nothing but a gaping hole." Then he frowns.
"They must think poorly of me."
Sukuna cherishes the screams rushing out of your throat as you take him inch by overbearing inch, stretching you out to accommodate his length and girth. You're nothing but his plaything.
You practically forget the crowd casted in front of you once you hear subdued chattering coming from multiple voices, all laced with different tones with different perceptions. You feel like a common whore.
Throughout, Sukuna never kissed you. He believes he should not taste the lips of a revolting human for it'll taint his palate. He just fucks into you as you bounce like some ragdoll abandoned by a little girl. But if life has fated you with the opportunity to become Sukuna's, your King's, toy, then may you not change the inevitable.
//i love the roleplay muse family trees, bc imagine having to co-parent with someone, whose partner claimed you as sparkling lmao
I mean. It's amazing because here you are trying to do your own thing- and then the person you've adopted has been adopted by five other people and suddenly you have the WEIRDEST FUCKING inlaws.
"Charcoal-grilled. I would have Uraume serve your organs as yakitori, but the heart remain raw. Your legs would become tartare, and your arms served with udon. The flesh of your face would be roasted with aromatics until it falls apart, no doubt, and the brain caramelized with vegetables. The rest of you would likely be slow-cooked since you're rather sinewy. The eyes would be left as-is, of course."
“Nice to see that you wouldn’t be skimping on extravagance. You’ve really had some time to think on it, huh?”
“The least you could do to oblige me is to put in something sweet.”
The dark was thick like ink, full of dusty particles from years of sand. It was amazing how such darkness messed with the mind. How things faded away, such simple things like sensations, thought, all dissolved like mud swept away by the tide.
Had he seen light before? He was sure he had, but it flickered out like a match before he could grasp it. How long had he been in this void now? Surely at one point he felt cold stone, limbs restrained, but had he really? He was floating now, was he truly conscious or simply dreaming. Perhaps this was what death really was, but his mind couldn't comprehend that for long. Like rusty cogs in a clock trying to tick tick tick away the time.
It was meaningless. This existence.
It was black, weightless, nothingness, silence. Broken by cracking. No...It was more hallucinations of a brain trying to make sense of the vacuum.
The soft sound of rain. He stirred, mind sluggishly trying to pull its way out of the tar.
No. Sand shifting, falling after being disturbed after so very long.
They made their way through the old stone corridors, climbing ruin and chasms, lighting torches to chase away the shadows. Sharp eyes searched nooks, crevices, looking for clues or shimmering answers to their quest. Surely this place wouldn't have been stripped, a nameless tomb in the middle of no where.
But perhaps nameless for a reason, perhaps there were no riches to pillage in this place of a nobody. Not meaningful enough in like for a name, let alone gold in the afterlife.
Still, they busted down another wall, pulling chunks of rock out of the way and it was there that their torches caught the glint of metal. Hurriedly, they scrambled forward, spreading the light of their flames to brighten the whole room. The men looked triumphant, quickly opening their sacks and bags to fill up with anything that could possibly be of value.
It was a lavish room, for certain, but as with most of these, the lead knew where the best jewels would be. Calling over two of his men, they grunted and hefted the stone lid off to reveal the gold sarcophagus that laid within. Grinning toothily, they hastily pulled the next lid off, greedy hands groping into the linens to grasp jewelry and rip them from their resting place.
He stood, holding one up to the light of his torch to catch a satisfying shine.
Their scent slowly filled the room, their voices and happiness at their find echoing in the otherwise silent halls. Those rusty gears turned, ticking away faster, but this time unlike a clock.
This time like a bomb.
And soon as that scent hit him, once those bonds around him loosened from the hungry thieves, his own starvation was suddenly founded. There was creaking, cracking that went unnoticed by the gleeful men who were making a racket themselves.
Until a withered hand grasped a shoulder and he disappeared into the stone box, the startled yelp cut short and it was then that everyone froze. Staring at the box, they heard scuffling, a jerky movement and rasping gasps. One approached to look in for their friend...
The silence was broken once more, this time by screams as the husk of a corpse screeched, clawed hand grabbing hair and pulling the terrified man close. The others were frozen in horror as his body jerked and wilted before their very eyes. The dull thud it made when the body hit the ground is what snapped them out of their trance, making a mad dash for the exit, the banshee shriek following them.
Rotted joints groaned as the creature shuffled after them, dull red glowing in empty sockets. How unfortunate that the winding paths to get to this hidden tomb, now became a deadly maze with a monster close at their heals.
One by one, the darkness claimed them, clacking jaws and clicking teeth finding them in their hiding spots. Empty nose smelled them through the dust and murk. Until just a single man was left, how fitting for the leader to be the one cowering while his group was slaughtered and devoured.
Balled up, hands over his mouth to quiet his palpitating heart, the sudden stillness turning him cold. Was it over? Had the beast moved on or gone back to the hell it crawled out of? Dare he hope?
Bony fingers slowly curled around the opening of the crate he hid in and his eyes widened, a whimper of terror wormed its way out of his throat.
Before the devil dropped on him.
The thieves came to steal riches, thinking to find easy gain in a dead mans last resting place and instead found their own tomb as their deaths fueled an ancient relic. Leathery flesh once again became plump, straw hair grew lush and soft, and Atem stumbled his way back to the center chamber. His chest labored as he scrambled for a dagger to slice open his chest, his desperate hands smashing one of his canopic jars as he yanked off the lids.
Piece by piece, he replaced his organs. Lungs gasping for air once they were back in his chest he coughed and hacked, spatting out clots and an oily substance. The glowing light of his crimson eyes flickered, veins taking up the light as he let out a pained hiss. Legs finally gave out and the once pharaoh collapsed in his shredded linens on the floor.
Darkness took him over once more, a deep, healing unconsciousness. But this time, there were no more questions of what if's, this time when he would wake, he knew one thing for certain: He was alive.
Hi, Alastor! Just a quick and possibly disgusting (depending on whom you ask of course) question: does the fact that you're a cannibal mean that you eat deer or other deer demons? Or both? Hope I didn't make you hungry with this question :)
Ah, another of those darling “emojis”! Just a simple smile this time, I see, how delightfully quaint. Let me put your mind at ease, my anonymous friend, and assure you that you did not make me hungry by asking this! As a matter of fact, I was already hungry, and on the hunt for some lunch.
There’s no need to beat around the bush for such a simple question, so I’ll get right to the point: People call me a cannibal because of my taste for deer meat - no more or less than that.
But, mind you, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t eat a deer demon.
Happy Halloween, everybody! To celebrate, I have a special Horrortale story for you. This is an excerpt from a reverse harem story that I will probably never write. HT Sans and HT Papyrus go by Gumbo and Sweets when with the group, but prefer to be called by their real names. (I know people use Axe and Crooks or Sugar for those guys, but I don’t like any of those names...) Hopefully it’s not too confusing for you.
Just as a warning, this is a Halloween and a Horrortale story, so it’s got some icky stuff in it. There’s discussion of cannibalism and gore, and there’s a (not very graphic) scene where someone throws up. If that’s not for you, don’t read this.
It is very, very long, so I’m putting a cut after the first scene.
“So, who are we meeting down in New Orleans?” you asked. “More ‘cousins’ of yours?”
Papyrus nodded. “We call them Gumbo and Sweets, but they prefer to be called Sans and Papyrus. They never really lived with us. They like their privacy. You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to. They can be kind of…scary.”
You frowned at the thought of a “scary” Sans and Papyrus. You couldn’t imagine either of them being truly frightening. Sans sometimes spooked you with that no eyes deal, but in general, you knew both of them would never really hurt you. Neither would any of their doppelgängers. You know that even the “edgier” ones would rather die than harm you. What could be different about these two that would make them “scary”?
“No, I’ll meet them,” you said. “I mean, with names like Gumbo and Sweets, how scary can they really be?”
Papyrus’s eye lights flicked to one side. “I…have something to do,” he said hastily and hurried away, leaving you confused and more than a little bit nervous.
“Are we meeting those other skeletons today?” you asked, sitting in the backseat with Stretch as Boss drove you into the city.
“You’re not meeting them,” Boss and Stretch said together.
“It’s way too dangerous,” Red said from the passenger seat. “These guys aren’t like us, sweetheart. Their underground was…nasty. Like, really nasty.”
“Nastier than yours?” you asked, trying to imagine something worse than the world Edge and Red had described to you.
“Way nastier,” Red said. “Y’see, for these guys, the kid didn’t break the barrier. Their punk kid went through, killed the king and vanished through the barrier along with the human souls. They were stuck.”
“But, they got out, right?” you ask. “Eventually someone else came along and saved them?”
Stretch shifted nervously. “Kinda. But not before—”
“Don’t tell her that part,” Boss said sharply. “She doesn’t need to know.”
“Doesn’t need to know what?”
“Look,” Red said, turning around so he could face you, “all you need to know is that these guys are some of the only monsters who got out of their Underground when another human finally did come along. Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, Mettaton…they never made it. Neither did a lot of other monsters. That’s how bad stuff was for them. And it fucked them up, a lot. So no, you’re not meeting them. It’s not happening. We’re gonna go see them, but you are staying at the house. Capiche?”
You blinked. “Yeah,” you said, still trying to process everything. You probably should have been frightened, but all you could think was Those poor skeletons...Maybe you’d been living with your bony buddies for too long...
A few days later, you had settled into the large townhouse the boys had in New Orleans and were thoroughly enjoying yourself. The culture and the architecture and the beauty of New Orleans were breathtaking, and you felt like you would never have enough time to see and do everything. You were already planning on coming back after you left. Today you were exploring on your own, the boys all having gone on their own errands for the day. You’d found a cool looking riverfront restaurant called Tiana’s Place. You walked in and were immediately charmed by the 20s aesthetic and the smooth jazz playing.
You were in the middle of your second bowl of delicious gumbo when you heard an oddly familiar voice.
“Hey, Cher. I’ve been hopin’ to meet you, but I guess your bodyguards didn’t want you comin’ ‘round little old me.”
You looked to the left to see a short, stocky skeleton in a blue hoodie and basketball shorts. You would have thought it was Sans, except that his left eye was bright red and he was wearing a gray beanie. He also had a Southern accent.
“Gumbo?” you asked tentatively.
“That’s what you’re eatin’, cher. And I bet that’s what they told you to call me too, huh? I don’t mind too much being named for my favorite food, but since it’s just you and me, you can call me by the name my mama gave me, okay?”
“O-okay,” you managed. That scarlet eye was a little unsettling. It wasn’t like Red’s pinprick eye lights. It was more like Sans’s white eye light had been surrounded by a ring of red. “I’m (Y/N).”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N),” he said, settling himself in the seat across from you. He reached for your bowl of gumbo. “You mind if I finish that? You look full, and I hate to see food go to waste.”
“Go for it,” you managed.
“So, (Y/N), why’d my ‘cousins’ tell you not to come to visit me? They’ve told me and my brother all about you and we were really hopin’ to have you over for dinner while you’re in town. I actually came out here to find you and offer an invitation myself. I hate disappointing Paps, you see. He loves dinner guests.”
“They said you were scary,” you said. “And dangerous. They wouldn’t really tell me why.”
“And do you think I’m scary and dangerous, cher?” He lifted the bowl of gumbo and drank a huge gulp of it.
You hesitated. His eye was still unsettling, but could you really be scared of a guy with a gumbo mustache?
“No,” you said, giving him a hesitant smile.
“Good.” He finished the rest of the gumbo in one more gulp. As you watched, a scarlet tongue slid out from his teeth to lick the bowl clean. He licked the gumbo off his face and smiled at you. “You got time to come by mine now?”
“Um…I guess. I just ate a big meal, though. I might not have room for whatever your brother is cooking up.”
“Oh don’t worry about that, cher. It’s a bit of a way to my place. By the time I get you there, you’ll be hungry again.”
“Okay. Just, um, let me text the guys and let them know where I’ll be?”
“Sure, Cher. You do that. I’ll meet you up front, okay?”
You nodded. He stood up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Don't take too long, Cher,” he said as he passed you.
You pulled out your phone and started to type out a text. Then you stopped, remembering the way all of them had told you that you shouldn't go see the guys. If you texted any of them, they would freak out and shortcut to get you before you could go anywhere. This Sans didn't seem too bad. He looked a little crazy, but he was polite and charming, and it sounded like he really cared for his brother. That was a good sign as far as you were concerned. If you ever met a Sans who didn't love his brother, then you'd be worried. You deleted what you'd typed and changed the message.
Found a guide to take me out to the bayou to explore! He seems very nice. I’ll probably be out late, so don't hold dinner for me. See you guys tonight. There. None of it was a lie. Technically.
Satisfied (yet knowing that you were going to get an earful later if any of them found out), you walked up front to join your new pal. “All set,” you said, smiling.
He grinned at you. It made him look more like the Sans you knew. He held out an arm. “Let’s go then, cher. Your ride awaits.”
You took his arm, smiling at the old-fashioned gesture, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. To your surprise, he led you down behind the restaurant to a dock, where a battered motorboat was tied up.
“We have to take a boat?” you asked.
He chuckled. “Cher, we’re going into the bayou. Ain’t no roads out there. Don’t worry. I got life jackets, and I’m good at driving this thing. I won’t let the gators get you. You’re my dinner guest, not theirs.”
“Can’t we, um, take a shortcut?” you asked, looking at the boat. It wasn’t exactly the safest looking craft in the world.
His hand went back to scratching his head. “I don’t take shortcuts anymore,” he said flatly. “If you’re scared, you don’t gotta come. Paps’ll understand. We’ll come out to meet you some other time.”
The thought of Papyrus firmed your resolve. If he was like your Papyrus, he would understand, but he’d also be disappointed. Disappointing a Papyrus was something you never wanted to do. You took a step toward the boat. “Give me a life jacket,” you said. “I’ll go.”
“Brave girl,” Sans said. He opened one of the seats in the boat and pulled out a faded orange life jacket. You put it on and tightened the straps as much as you could. Sans stepped into the boat and held out a hand to help you in. He sat in the driver’s seat while you sat in the back. You tried to find somewhere to hold on.
“Here we go,” Sans said, revving the engine. You couldn’t help the scream that tore out of you as the boat roared off into the bayou.
The motorboat ride was the most terrifying experience of your life. It was clear that Sans wasn’t trying to scare you, but he didn’t have to. The speed, the wind rushing in your face, the spray flying around you...You clung to the seat as best you could and closed your eyes. Sans didn’t say anything -- not that you could have heard him over the engine’s roar.
At last the noise died and the boat stopped moving. You dared to open your eyes. Sans had already hopped out of the boat and was tying it up to a rickety dock. He grinned at you. “Hey, you survived,” he said. “You okay, cher?”
“I think I’ll call somebody to come to shortcut me home,” you said, slowly peeling your fingers off the vinyl seat.
“Okay. Fine with me, cher. You need a hand?” He held one out. You took it and he helped you onto the dock. You took off the life jacket and he stowed it back under the seat in the boat. “The house is just up the path a little,” he said. “Come on.”
You held his hand as he led you up a winding dirt path. The sun was setting, causing the gigantic trees to cast long shadows. You were glad to have Sans’s hand in yours because it was nearly too dark for you to see.
After a few minutes of walking the two of you reached a wooden two-story house. The windows glowed like beacons in the darkness. There were Christmas lights strung along the roofline and around the windows. They twinkled like stars in the darkness. To your surprise, there was snow on the roof, even though it was only October.
The front door opened before you could ask about the snow. An impossibly tall figure filled the doorway. It looked kind of like Papyrus, but only if you knew what Papyrus looked like. This skeleton’s spine was curved. He was so tall that he had to hunch so he didn’t hit his head on the doorframe. He wore a pair of thick glasses and his jagged, uneven teeth were covered with metal braces. He wore an outfit that reminded you of the Battle Body your Papyrus had shown you, with a bright white apron over it. Someone had written “Ask me about SPAGHETTI” on the front with a red marker.
You only just had time to take all this in before the skeleton -- Sweets, you supposed -- bounced forward and wrapped you in a rib-crushing hug. “HUMAN!” he cried. “I AM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY MEET YOU! MY COUSINS TOLD US ALL ABOUT YOU AND I TOLD SANS WE HAD TO HAVE YOU OVER FOR DINNER.”
His voice was like your Papyrus’s, but twice as loud. You winced. He was still hugging you. It was getting hard to breathe.
Sans stepped forward and took his brother’s arm, making him release you. “We talked about calming down a little bit, right, Paps? After the last human...”
Papyrus looked ashamed of himself. “I’m Sorry, Human,” he said in a softer voice. “I Didn’t Hurt You, Did I? Oh Dear...Sans, I Hurt The Human!” He wrung his hands together.
“No, I’m fine,” you wheezed. “Really. It’s good to meet you too.”
He beamed. Even with that mouthtful of braces, it was more adorable than creepy. “Oh Thank Goodness! Come Inside Now, Come Inside. I’ve Made Spaghetti!”
He bounced into the house. Sans followed him and you followed Sans.
The house smelled amazing. Papyrus led you through the living room (which was mostly taken up by an incredibly ugly green couch) into the kitchen, where a wooden table held three heaping plates of spaghetti with meatballs. “That looks amazing, Papyrus,” you said, heading for a chair.
“Thank You!” he said. “I Have Worked Hard To Improve My Cooking Skills Since We Surfaced. I Even Take Classes On The Human Undernet To Learn More About Cooking For Humans. Sans, Take Off Your Hat Before We Eat. It’s Rude To Wear A Hat Inside.”
“Paps, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Sans began, but his brother reached out and plucked the gray beanie from his head.
You stared. It looked like someone had tried to cave in his skull with a sledge hammer. They hadn’t succeeded, but there was a fist-sized hole in Sans’s skull. You thought of your other Sans, the one you’d met first. The one who had 1 hp. A wound like that would have killed him. How was this Sans still standing? Your stomach churned. “Oh my god,” you managed before losing your lunch on the kitchen tile.
The brothers were very nice about it all. Sans hurried you to the couch while Papyrus apologized loudly and profusely as he cleaned up the mess. Sans brought you a trash can and a glass of water. You managed not to be sick again. Sipping the water carefully, you said, “What the hell happened to you?”
Reluctantly, Sans told you. His brother chimed in occasionally. It was not a pretty story. You heaved over the trash can again a few times. Their Underground had lost their main source of magical power, the CORE. Everyone’s reserves ran low. Undyne had given Sans the hole in his head when he couldn’t fix the CORE. Some monsters had turned to cannibalism. Some became, as Sans put it, humanitarians. Eventually they’d been freed and the famine had ended, but it had left its marks on everyone.
“Is that why the guys didn’t want me to meet you?” you asked. “They thought you’d eat me?”
“We Would Never!” Papyrus said. “We Swore! We Made A Solemn Pact! Never Again! NEVER AGAIN!”
Sans put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “It’s okay, bro. Calm down. It’s okay.” He looked at you. “They don’t get it. They all went through some shit too, but not like us. Some of them don’t think we can control ourselves.” The bitterness in his voice would have made horseradish sweet. “Now that you know everything, we’ll understand if you don’t wanna stay for dinner after all. Won’t we, Paps?”
“Of Course. I Could Pack Up Your Portion In A Container For You To Take Home, Human.”
You gave them both a shaky smile. “Thanks, guys. I think a container would be good. I kinda just wanna go home. But I’ll come back another time, if you want me to.”
“We’d love to have you any time, cher,” Sans said tenderly.
“Absolutely,” his brother agreed. “You Are Always Welcome.” He walked back to the kitchen.
Sans took the trash can from you. “You go ahead and call for a ride, cher. I know you don’t wanna take the boat again.” He walked away.
You pulled out your phone and considered who to call. Sans, you decided. Your Sans. He hadn’t told you not to come, and he probably wouldn’t lecture anyways, and after everything, you needed to see him. Needed to make sure that he didn’t have that horrible hole in his skull. You dialed.
He picked up on the first ring. “Hey kid. You having fun in the bayou?”
“I met Gumbo and Sweets,” you said. “I need you to come get me.”
His cheerful tone dropped. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Hold on. I’ll be right there.”
The phone went dead and then Sans was in the room with you. You grabbed him and hugged him tightly before he could say a word.
“What’s this for?” he asked. “You okay?”
“She’s fine,” Gumbo said, coming back in. His tone had lost all friendliness. “She got sick, but she’ll be fine. My boat just didn’t agree with her. I can’t shortcut so I told her to call you for a ride.”
Sans looked at you for confirmation. You nodded. “Okay,” he said. “One ride home, coming up. You ready?”
Papyrus ran in, clutching a large Tupperware container. “Wait! Don’t Leave This Behind. Oh! Hello other Sans! It Is Always Good To See You. Tell Other Me I Said Hello.”
“Will do, big guy.” Sans took the container in one hand and wrapped his other arm around you. “Always good to see you two. G’night.”
“Bye, guys,” you managed before the shortcut swept you away.
@shipperqueen93 prompted: “Ivelle: They eat from a addict and get high.”
This could take place in either the Insatiable or the Revenge is Sweet verses - both Belle and Ives are wendigos. Just a little bit of nonsense to lighten up everyone’s Thursday evening.
Warning: Cannibalism, and two tripping cannibals...
====
Tripping the Light Fantastic
“Belle?”
“Yes?”
“Who the hell did we just eat?”
To anyone else this question would have seemed completely out of place, but to Ives and Belle, it was a more common one than anyone might have guessed.
“I don’t know, I just got the meat out of the freezer. I don’t exactly label it for obvious reasons. Why?”
“Well, I think there was something wrong with whoever it was. I’m feeling mightily peculiar.”
Belle came over and sat down on the sofa beside Ives. Now that he had mentioned it, she wasn’t feeling entirely normal herself. She thought back over their recent victims, trying to work out if any of them looked like they had any kind of strange diseases. Most things like that got cooked out, but there were always risks to be run whenever they indulged in this element of their lifestyle. She preferred to cook with fresh meat, but sometimes needs must and in order to avoid attracting the attention of various authorities, occasionally a recourse to the deep freeze was necessary.
Luckily the increased metabolism of the wendigo meant that the effects would not be long lasting and hopefully they would be back to normal soon. Belle looked up at the ceiling as she tried to think, but thinking became harder and harder as the ceiling became more and more fascinating. There was a spider making its way across the white surface, and Belle wondered whether the world looked different to him, looking down on it as he was with his eight eyes.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a spider?” she asked Ives.
“No…” Ives looked up and became transfixed by the spider as well, watching its progress across the ceiling with intense concentration. “What would it be like to be so small, do you think?”
“I think it must make life very tiring. I mean, look how long it’s taken him to get across the ceiling. He’s probably going as fast as he can. I mean, you and I can walk across the room in a couple of seconds, but he’s going to be at that for a while.”
“We’re giants in his eyes,” Ives agreed.
“You know, spiders have eight eyes. I wonder if each one sees something different, like having eight TV screens in your head all showing different stations.”
“That would be confusing… But it would be useful if you want to watch two things that are on at the same time.”
“That’s what the DVR’s for, silly.”
There was a long pause as they continued to track the spider’s progress along the ceiling.
“Come on, little buddy,” Belle encouraged, waving him on with little flicks of her fingers as if she was pushing him across the ceiling herself. “You can do it! You’re nearly there!”
“I feel like we should be eating popcorn,” Ives mused.
“We’ve only just had dinner.”
“Yeah, but I’m still hungry.”
“So am I, now you mention it.” There was another long pause as the spider stopped about three inches from the wall. Belle got up, then sat back down again immediately, flopping over to the side and leaning on Ives. “My legs feel funny.”
Ives looked down at them. “They don’t look funny. They look like legs.” He paused. “I suppose legs do look a bit like sausages in a way. Especially on the beach. Little hotdog sausages roasting in the sun.”
Belle glared at him. “Don’t eat my legs.”
“I’d never eat you!” Ives would have sounded affronted if his speech wasn’t starting to slur. “Although, you do taste really good.”
“Yeah, so do you… Just not when you’ve been eating garlic… Then you just taste of garlic…”
“I thought you liked garlic.”
“I do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Some things in life just should not taste of garlic.” She glared down at his lap, and Ives thought that he understood her. Almost. Then again, a herd of miniature pink unicorns had just started tap-dancing along the arm of the sofa, and he scrambled back from them as much as he could, which, given the lack of co-ordination in his limbs, was not very much before he ended up falling over the other arm of the sofa, and sprawling on the floor.
“Holy crap, are you all right?”
Belle’s face swam into view above him, but beyond her blurred features, he could see the spider finally reaching its destination.
“He did it!” he yelled, much to the consternation of the unicorns.
“Who did what?” Belle asked, perplexed, her face still swimming.
“The…”
Spider. He knew that the word was spider, but he couldn’t make his mouth form around the two syllables to create the word.
“The…” Belle prompted.
“The handsome chap with eight legs on the ceiling,” Ives concluded. He had no idea if the spider was handsome or not, but he thought that it was wearing a bow tie and top hat, so it was cutting a dashing figure even if it did have eight legs and eight eyes.
Belle looked up to the ceiling, staring at it inscrutably.
“Huh,” she said, and then promptly toppled down off the sofa onto Ives.
“Uff.”
“Sorry. Seemed like the quickest way to get onto the floor.”
“What was?”
“Falling.”
“Yeah… Quickest way to do anything, I think.”
“Apart from make an omelette.”
“I could really use an omelette right now.”
“Yeah… I can’t move my arms or legs though.”
“Me neither.”
“Are those unicorns dancing on the sofa?”
“I think the spider let them in…”
X
Belle woke three hours later, her head feeling as if it was trying to cleave itself in two, and she rolled off of Ives’ stomach with a groan.
“Ives?”
“Mm?” The mumbled reply came from under a pillow, although how he had managed to get a pillow off the sofa and onto his face was a mystery that Belle did not yet have the mental faculties to solve.
