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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.

G/tober day 11- Monster

Warnings: Mentions of death but none happen, abusing of someone’s phobias and minor TMA spoilers for Jon’s abilities

This is my day 11 of g/tober and it’s part 1 of a series I plan to finish later this month. Inspired by @aaytaro-gt’s prompt list.

“Here’s the latest statement that needs some follow up. Some giant monster in the woods,” Sasha slid the statement onto Martin’s desk with a sheepish grin. “It didn’t record digitally.” she added and he groaned internally.

No digital recording meant that this was a genuinely ‘spooky’ statement that was real. It also meant he was about to run into some giant creature in the woods in the name of research. The only comfort was that the statement had been given in general, meaning the subject had to still be alive.

Settling into his chair, Martin started to read the statement, hoping to be prepared for what he was going to he faced with.

Statement of Hazel Anteo, regarding a giant monster in the woods near their home. Statement given xx-xx-xxxx. Statement recorded by Head Archivist Sasha James. Statement begins:

I’m not crazy. I know you probably see that a lot, but I swear. I’m a rational person and I didn’t even believe in the supernatural until this happened.

Now, I know it’s not smart to walk around in the woods, not to mention doing it alone. It’s not something I make a habit of. The last time I went for a walk through that forest was probably a few years ago when I was in my last year of secondary school.

Walking was always a stress reliever for me. If something is on my mind, I just walk and think until I find a solution to whatever was bothering me. It got me through some hard times in my life and this time wasn’t meant to be any different.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently. I always get like this around winter: the nights are just perfect for my mind to start overworking itself with irrational fears and the cold seeps into my bones like a physical pain.

That night it was particularly bad. The chill wasn’t anything compared to the terror of the shapes shifting from the corners of my eye. It felt like I was being hunted and I desperately wanted to be anywhere but that room.

So, I bundled up and trekked into the forest. It was around 11 pm and that forest was the first place I could think of that I wouldn’t have to see people. To have people judging me for my late night fear. I just really didn’t want to have people asking questions and prodding into my business.

The forest was beautiful in the moonlight. Silver bathed the ground in patches of light that broke through the foliage high above. It made everything look so still, peaceful and it soothed me of my fear.

I walked down a slightly trodden path, where I was the least likely to trip on a root I didn’t see under the inconsistent lighting. It was an easy path to follow and my mind wandered. Slipping into a sense of ease was a relief and I basked under the light.

It’s probably why I missed the first signs of movement in the trembling ground beneath my feet.

I only noticed when a shadow flew over my head from behind, drowning out the light and whipping up a wind that sent my hair flying and my heart hammering. The shadow was so colossal that it took up the entirety of my vision. I could barely force breathes past my panic.

When the shadow slammed into the earth before me, I shrieked, stumbling backwards and falling to the mud. My eyes were fixed on the thing before me and it took me a moment to process what it was.

The thing that had slammed down was a giant foot.

With that realisation, I snapped my head up, so fast my neck stung. There was a silhouette outlined with moonlight, seeming darker than black. No, not black, it was more like it devoured all light rather than simply being black.

I regretted the sound that had ripped from my throat as what I figured to be the giant’s head whipped around, staring down at me with a piercing toxic green gaze. In that second I was an insect, pinned under a microscope with that cold gaze deciding wether I was to live or die. It knew everything about me and it was judging me.

Then it turned on it’s heel, it’s entire being lowered to the ground, still so much larger than I could comprehend. It’s hand was colossal and it’s fingers were a size that dwarfed a human as it reached down to me.

I knew it was futile to run and even if I wanted, my legs were frozen, leaving me completely at the whims of the creature.

Those fingers wrapped around me in a grip that felt mockingly light, as if the thing was using only a fraction of it’s strength and wanted me to know it. It lifted me effortlessly upwards and I clenched my eyes shut, unwilling to look my death in the eyes.

I’ve always been terrified of heights and peeking down at the ground I couldn’t see before it faded into a black void made me reel. Desperately, I hoped that it would find some other way to kill me.

Anything but dropping to my death.

I had no choice but to focus on the shadowed expression of the monster’s face. I could make out a vague idea of humanoid features aside from the ever-staring eyes. The sharp nose, thin lips and sharp eyebrows that would’ve been human if not for their huge scale.

It stared at me as giant fingers prodded and pulled at me. I was a doll in it’s huge hands and the best I could do was bite my tongue, holding back my tears.

What felt like hours passed before I was dropped to the ground, always caught seconds before I would’ve splattered into nothing. It seemed purposeful. It was like the creature knew about my fear of heights and was setting it off again and again for whatever sick entertainment it drew from my terror.

But it couldn’t know that, could it?

The moment I was put down properly, I used my adrenaline to run. To sprint as far away from the monster as possible, knowing that if it chose to make chase I’d be caught effortlessly.

For some inexplicable reason, it didn’t. There was no shadow on my tail, no ground trembling in my wake, no sign it followed me.

Yet I felt watched even as I scrambled inside my house, the gaze heavy on my very soul. I didn’t dare change into my pyjamas under that watch and I simply kicked off my shoes, crawling under the covers.

It was gone the next day, thankfully. I haven’t felt it since, but I’m haunted by it, even now. I don’t know what it was. What it wanted.

All I know is that it was enjoying my fear. Drawing it out to wring every last drop of mortal terror it could. Making me fear for my life but never killing me.

For some reason, the whole thing made me think of a cat, playing with the mouse it plans to eat.

Less a thought and more a snippet of writing but here’s a chunk of something I’m working on.

Warnings for fearplay, arguments, possessive behaviour. Let me know if I missed any.

“Optimus…?” Elias watched the Cybertronian cautiously, taking in his tensed plating and the thin curls of smoke pouring from his smokestacks. They’d never seen him look so tense. Was this argument getting to him that much?

Glaring azure optics looked down at them and they shivered. There was a burning rage in his optics and they involuntarily stepped back.

“Elias.” His tone was cold, iced over with hostility somehow seeping from that single word.

“Optimus, I had to-”

Between one moment and the next there was the slam of metal on metal, the sound vibrating through their body, reverberating across the vast room.

There was a fresh dent in the table, something Elias didn’t need to see to understand as they watched Optimus pull back his fist. The paint across his knuckles was scuffed from the sheer strength of the blow, revealing the gunmetal grey metal underneath.

Elias barely had to chance to choke out a single syllable before they were fixed under the gaze that began to blaze into a raging inferno. “You didn’t have to do anything. Our war is not yours to get involved in!” he snapped, an underlying growl to his words.

Their own temper flared, frustrated by the cresting of the argument they’d already been having for an hour. “We’ve had this argument a million times, you can’t stop me!”

“Can’t I?” All the boiling rage turned stone cold in a split second and a thud shook Elias’ world as their perception narrowed to focus completely on the towering Cybertronian. Optimus’s knees hit the floor and despite the change in height, he still loomed, faceplates shadowed, Elias’ only source of light the eerie glow of his optics. “It would be so easy to keep you here with me. To keep you safe.”

The realisation clicked and Elias was aware for the first time in months of how large Optimus was. His entire being was incomprehensibly vast, his chassis an expanse of metal and glass like staring across a field, only able to see a fraction of what was before them, his height capable of eclipsing buildings. The hands splayed on either side of them caged them in effortlessly and they knew that if Optimus wanted, he could crush them effortlessly.

Or, in the case of the overprotective giant, grab them and lock them in a cage, safe behind bars.

“Y-you wouldn’t!” They tried to maintain their confidence in their friend, the mech that had fought for the freedom of all sentient life. He wouldn’t lock them away. He couldn’t.

“If it keeps you safe, I would.” There was no hesitation as Optimus’ hands closed around them. The grasp that had always seemed so comforting was devoid of any familiarity. It was bordering crushing, the kind of grasp a particularly well loved glass figure would be put under if the owner felt it was at risk of shattering. “Maybe I will.”