Feasting On Silent Screams 1/1

Feasting On Silent Screams 1/1

Warnings: Mentions of vore/graphic description of vore, minor TMA spoilers for Jon’s abilities.

The part with the graphic description has been italicised and it can be skipped. I’ve got a longer Magnus Archives one shot that I’ve got scheduled for later this month so have a little nugget I wrote today. I’ve nearly finished the entire series and so far I’m loving it.

Sasha was the only one brave enough to go into The Archivist’s office. Or she was stupid, if you asked Tim. But Tim didn’t count, if you asked Sasha.

She hadn’t seen Jon in a few days and she wasn’t sure where he disappeared off to. Still, she was taking the opportunity to go into his office and see if she could find some more pencil lead. It wasn’t something they needed but she liked being able to draw and write.

Humming to herself, Sasha glanced around the desk. There was a messy pile of paper, a tape recorder and a microphone. The tape recorder and microphone didn’t mean anything to her since she couldn’t borrow anything useful from them but she went over to the paper.

It was a pile of statements and she tsked as she leafed through them. There weren’t any blank pages and she groaned in quiet annoyance. She’d been hoping there would be a blank paper she could take a piece off.

Standing up, she brushed herself off and wandered over to the partially opened drawer. A cursory look and her eyes locked onto a pencil that had been ran down too small for a human to use.

It would easily be enough lead for a few months at least and Sasha beamed.

Pressing her front to the desk, Sasha slid herself to the edge until she could drop into the drawer, landing in a crouch. She grabbed the pencil and slipped it into her bag, grinning to herself.

There was the sound of a door slamming and light streamed into the room. Sasha mentally cursed as fear coursed through her as she backed further into the drawer.

She made fun of Tim but his fear of Jon was something she shared.

“Where is it?” There came the sound of paper being scattered, “No, no, no— none of these!” A bang as something was slammed overhead.

Sasha clenched her teeth, forcing back a yelp. Her ears rang and she felt dizzy as the sound echoed around her on all sides.

“What is that?” The Archivist sounded like he was sniffling but Sasha realised with a sense of sinking dread that he sounded like he’d caught the scent of something. Was it her? How?

“Someone’s in here.” He mumbled and Sasha trembled, tears pricking in her eyes. “Where…”

The drawer suddenly was pulled into the open and Sasha snapped her head up, faced with The Archivist’s vibrant green eyes.

“Oh, now this is interesting.” Before Sasha could even consider running, she was grabbed and brought into the open. “You’re tiny.” A fingertip tilted her head up and she was split between squeezing her eyes shut or keeping her eyes on the threat before her.

She kept them open to see the glowing green eyes that seem to look through her very soul.

“It’s incredible! According to the square cube law, something so small shouldn’t exist.” The Archivist’s unoccupied hand came up to grasp at her face. Sasha had her face squished and manipulated until it was seared into The Archivist’s memory.

It was when a finger pulled at her lips with a mumble about eating habits that Sasha snapped and bit the digit, which was quickly pulled away. “Well, I was just going to satiate my curiosity, but I suppose you’ll make a fine snack.”

Immediately, ever horror story of borrowers being eaten came to Sasha in a blur of crimson and white. She could practically smell the metallic scent of her own blood. Hear the sound of her bones crunching and muscles squelching as she was chewed into unidentifiable paste. See the spray of blood as her limbs were torn off until she blacked out from the pain.

Her panicked mind wondered which The Archivist would prefer. To eat her whole or tear her to bloody ribbons first. Would he enjoy her screams? Relish in her fear?

There was a satisfied hum from above and Sasha whimpered in terror.

When her feet touched the ground, she froze and forced her bleary gaze to focus. Jon had set her down and left the room. She didn’t know what he was doing but she didn’t hesitate.

Shaky hands dug her hook into the desk and she slid down the rope, barely feeling the burn of her hands. Sasha thudded to the ground and desperately tugged at her rope, pulling a chunk of wood out of the desk. She spooled it as she sprinted, stumbling over the thread as she ran.

When she entered the tunnels, she didn’t stop. She kept sprinting, scrambling through the tunnels with an urgency she’d never felt before.

Sasha barely remembered to toss of her bag before she collapsed onto her bed, burying herself in the pile of fabric scraps as if it would protect her. She trembled and sobbed as she curled into herself, trying to scrub the images out of her mind.

It didn’t work.

——

This one’s a little darker but I think it’s in the same vein as TMA in general. I played with how Jon’s fear-eating works, in that he can also absorb fear more passively. I have a little extra tidbit for this that gets much grittier so I may post that at some point.

O you know what? Its abt damn time I posted some more of my beloved Rengoku x my sona gt commissions!! So! Here they are!!!!

thinking heavily about a little rustic town out west that’s far too big for my tiny self, but i manage to make it in and find a little home out of the way. i’ve never interacted with giants before, but the town is mixed size, and i try to get over my skittishness quick. the only place i can find a job at is a rough bar, where the bartender sizes me up carefully before saying i can wash the dishes, the decorative ones that have nooks and crannies too tiny for his fingers to reach. each of his fingers are twice as tall am and i’m half sure it’s just pity, but he gives me more than enough food to live off of, and when the bar closes we work together in silence. the kind of silence that feels like a soft blanket. sometimes, when we finish closing, he pours me a thimble and him an ocean of whiskey, and we sit together in our drunken warmth, and he plays with his straw like he wishes he was fidgeting with something else.

Rewatching Black Butler and I have three separate WIPs I’m working on because I have no self control. I have also realised I have the strangest taste in giants.

The three WIPs all centre around different characters (Sebastian, Claude and William T Spears) and the one with Claude should be done first!

-Atlas

The Trancy Hospitality- 1/?

Warnings: Mentions of vore but none take place, mentions of broken bones,

This was inspired by one of the prompts I saw a while back on @thelittledovewriter’s account! I have a concept for the second part but haven’t got anything written yet.

Thunder rumbled through the dark and I flinched as lightning illuminated the massive manor towering before me. Rain hammered against the windows and I huddled into my cloak as I darted along the wall.

There had to be some way into the manor. A mouse hole or something! Anything to get out of the rain.

It was sheer luck I found a crack big enough for me to enter the grand manor. My clothes were still soaking wet and the chill had long since numbed my body, but it was better than being out in the storm.

A sharp pain ripped through my stomach and I winced, hissing in a quiet breath. I needed to find something to eat soon. How long had it been since I ate something? A day or so?

I couldn’t risk it. Trying to get food when I didn’t know who would notice was a stupid idea. The manor was the grand kind that probably had some crazy noble that would try and keep me as an exotic pet.

Instead, I looked for the best place to hide until the storm passed over.

Another crash of lightning startled me as I squinted at the shadows that seemed to shift. I shivered in unease. There was a strange quality to the darkness that set me on edge. It felt like they were following me, prepared to rush forward and devour me at any moment.

Shaking my head, I refocused on my task, glancing up at the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. Without any light, I couldn’t judge how long the hallway was.

Behind me came a rhythmic clicking and my heart stopped.

No, no, no—

There was nowhere to hide!

“What a delightful morsel you’ll make unless you immediately tell me why you are here.”

I whipped around on my heel and had to crane my neck up to even catch a glimpse of the human who’d discovered me. I only caught the glimmering of amber eyes lit by a candelabra before a strike of lightning illuminated a gaunt, pale face and neatly combed black hair.

A fine eyebrow raised expectantly and I remembered that he was expecting an answer and I scrambled to get my frozen tongue to work.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude! I was just looking for a place to wait out the storm.” I hastily explained, choking on the words as I plunged into a bow. I could guess that he wasn’t a noble from the plain black of his clothes but he could easily take me to his master so I didn’t risk offending him.

Raising from my bow, I looked up, flinching as I saw that he had knelt in the brief second I looked away. The golden eyes felt like spotlights, pinning me in place as I trembled.

“How interesting.” In my distraction with the man’s eyes, I didn’t notice his hand until it wrapped around me in a surprisingly lax grip. “I suppose I should offer you the hospitality of the Trancy household for such a polite request.”

I barely bit back a shriek as I was plucked up, clenching my eyes shut so I didn’t have to face the all to real possibly of being dropped. When the grip on me shifted, I opened my eyes, relieved to just be sat in the butler’s palm instead of clutched in a fist.

Forcing myself to breathe, I tried to calm my racing mind. I hadn’t been hurt. All I needed to do was stay polite and not offend the butler literally keeping my life in his hands.

“What is your name?” The raven haired man asked, golden eyes watching me instead of where he was walking.

“My name is Elias, sir.” I answered, bowing my head where I sat.

“I am Claude Faustus, a pleasure.” His voice was monotone but it was better than him being angry.

I wondered where he was taking me but didn’t get to ask before we arrived in what looked to be the kitchen. It was too dark for me to make much out but Claude didn’t seem to have the same issue. He moved without even looking at his surroundings, still focused completely on me.

It was unnerving, to say the least.

“What would you like to eat?” Claude asked, setting his hand on the counter, where I quickly stepped off.

“I don’t have any preference, sir.” I watched as he started pulling out ingredients that I didn’t recognise. I didn’t know why he was even bothering to make me something to eat but I wasn’t about to question his kindness.

“I’ll be making crepes.” Claude explained and I nodded like I knew what he meant, “I was already going to come make them, considering I’m famished.” I resolutely didn’t comment on the way he stared directly into my eyes as he spoke. I tried not to shiver at the glimpse of his sharp teeth as he licked his lips.

It wasn’t much better, watching his hands that could so easily crush me, but it was preferable to the reminder that I was a one bite snack. Claude was efficient and it was mesmerising to watch.

As he started pouring the batter into a pan, he turned to me, “What would you like with yours?” he asked before listing off a few options. Fruit, chocolate and a few other things that I don’t recognise by the names alone.

“Chocolate, please.” I said. I didn’t get sweet things often and with the chance to have chocolate, it was too good to give up.

Claude managed to find a tiny plate and offered me a stack of appropriately sized crepes, drizzled with chocolate. My stomach growled but I stood to do a quick bow first. “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome.” he responded, plating a few for himself. I quickly looked away when he started eating, taking huge bites and tearing through the crepes ravenously.

I tried not to think how easily the same could be done to me.

Instead, I focused on my own food, savouring each bite and trying not to make a mess out of myself. I mostly succeeded but my hands were sticky and I was sure there was at least a slight smear of chocolate on my face.

“I’ll draw you a bath.” Again Claude plucked me up, holding me by the back of my shirt. I couldn’t quell my yelp and my heart thudded like it was trying to break my ribs as I stared at the floor.

The drop would shatter my entire body.

I couldn’t bring myself to protest, terror again weighing on my tongue as I was dangled from Claude’s grasp like a doll. Struggling would only risk him dropping me and I just tried to ignore it. I didn’t know him and anything could set him off.

——

Claude was rather enjoying this unexpected turn of events.

He’d never seen a borrower for himself before, considering they avoided humans like a plague. A demon was even more avoided, considering borrowers had souls and were much easier to devour than a human.

They were tiny, easily something Claude could completely encompass in his fist.

His initial plan had just been to tease them before devouring them. But then they’d actually answered his question and they were so /polite/. Even amongst humans it was a rarity to be talked to in such a well-mannered way.

It was adorable.

With their manners, he knew that they hadn’t quite figured out he was a demon and Claude found himself thrilled. This could very well serve an interesting game for the night.

The long game had never been Claude’s preference, but he figured he may as well play a game with the borrower. How long would it take for the fear bubbling inside their heart to spill over? How long before they snapped and broke?

It was subtle at first.

Picking them up only got a flinch but devouring the crepes seemed to have unnerved them and brought their attention his inhumanly sharp teeth. There was still no recognition and they kept their polite attitude.

They barely even screamed when he picked them up and dangled them in his grip. It was actually impressive, their level of control over their emotions.

Still, he took them to the guest bathroom and pulled out a small dish usually used for guests to wash their hands. He filled it with warm water and added a pinch of bathing salts, setting a small hand cloth by the basin.

“Leave your dirty clothes out, I’ll find you something clean to wear.” he said, already thinking of the most embarrassing doll outfit he could bring for them. Something they could still sleep in, considering the late hour.

For their privacy, he kept his back to them when he reentered the bathroom.

“Do you have any hobbies, Mr Faustus?” Elias asked and he was again surprised at the attempt at casual conversation.

“Yes. I tap dance.” He decided to humour them.

“I’ve never seen anyone tap dance. Is it difficult?” Elias asked and Claude found himself surprised at the genuine curiosity in their voice.

“I suppose, but I’ve had years of practice so it comes rather easily to me.” he explained and there was a hum and the sound of splashing water.

“That’s amazing!” And their awe was so sincere that he couldn’t find it in himself to snark at them. “Would you be willing to do a demonstration?” they asked.

“After you’ve finished with your bath, I would be more than happy to.” Claude found himself equally genuine in his response.

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem at all.” And it really wasn’t. They were polite and the interest in his hobbies was foreign. Alois only took an interest if he wanted Claude to entertain their guests using his tap dancing as an oddity that guests could fawn over while complementing the young Earl for having such a talented servant. It was, quite frankly, annoying, but he put up with it for the sake of the soul he was to consume when his contract finished.

There was a brief pause of silence before there was the sound of dripping water and the shuffling of cloth. “Finished,” Elias announced and Claude glanced over his shoulder, seeing they’d wrapped themself in the cloth.

Setting down the nightgown, a frilly pink thing with extravagant silver embroidery and lace, Claude watched the look of sheer awe that came to their face. They didn’t seem offended by the gaudiness, looking more enamoured with the details of the garment.

“Thank you. It’s so pretty!” Elias bowed to him before he turned his back to give them privacy while they changed.

It was only when he stared at them, dressed in fresh clothes, that Claude wondered why he’d gone through the effort. Elias was just a lowly pest to be devoured when he inevitably got bored of them.

So why did he find himself hesitating? He should end the farce of politeness and take care of the pest already!

But he didn’t.

It was strange, but he found himself regarding their presence as… charming. Pleasant, almost.

He sneered internally. How could a demon like himself feel fondness on any level, especially for a vermin? It made no sense.

There was absolutely no way that Claude Faustus was going soft.

——

Writing Claude is interesting because obviously demons think in different terms to humans and, frankly, Elias is only alive because they’re holding his attention.

other aromantic g/t creators focusing on non-romantic content where are you