Dead Blog

There was an odd scent on the wind lately.

Rueri wasn’t sure what it was exactly, if they were being totally honest with themselves. Nothing alarming, per say, but definitely different. Carried on the salty sea air between the thick trees they called home. The sharp bite of expensive booze. Mixed, muddy scents of many bodies pressed together in a single space. Fresh spices not native to the local village as far as they knew.

Probably a new ship in the harbor, but for Rueri to smell it all the way out here it must be impressively large. No doubt, pirates, considering it was the Grandline. But Rueri largely considered it firmly not their business.

The only thing they were concerned with, was how well their favorite fishing spot was working out so far. Which was very well, in fact, plenty for dinner tonight without depleting the population.

There was also the matter of… the incidents.

Rueri wasn’t sure when it started, exactly. But with increasing regularity, villagers had been found brutally murdered. Their blood hot in the night air as the locals were worked into a fury over it. Naturally, they assumed it was them, but Rueri avoided the village on a good day. Well aware they were unwelcome for being unnatural. Feathers and fur were good, sensible humans had smooth skin and hair. Claws a deep pitch instead of spindly fingers and a tail thick and curling as it whipped with Rueri’s anxiety. Tufted ears twitching as they picked up the sound of a stranger between the trees.

Well, relatively strange, at least. These footfalls actually somewhat familiar at this point to them.

A man practically clomped into the clearing with an excited grin, white uniform somehow immaculate despite his clumsy steps. Pompadour as immaculate as it was impressive, curved scar curling around one eye as he grinned. Yellow fabric tied around his shoulders, just the same as it always was whenever Rueri saw him.

“Oi! Rueri! Thought I’d have to wonder forever to find you~!” Thatch called out, ambling close as he inspected Rueri’s catch so far. “Nice! You know, I could fry up a mean sashimi with that if you liked?” The fish in question a striking red, scales glittering in the sun as it weakly flopped inside the shallow bucket Rueri had procured a long time ago.

“Thatch… nice to see you. Again?” Rueri looked at the older man for a moment, noting his goatee was still well groomed as well. The man’s… everything was odd for the island. Frankly, if Rueri was better at socializing, they’d have asked if the man was from the ship that had clearly docked recently. But every time they ‘ran into each other’, Rueri focused on acting like it would be the last. It never was, though.

“Yep! Couldn’t leave my fluffy friend alone forever!” Rueri hissed, ears pinning down sheepishly as they looked away.

“Best if you did. Locals are getting… angry. Someone’s cutting em up at night. Probably think it’s me.” They lifted up a clawed paw and curled the dark talons in a demonstration before sighing and trying to turn back to their fishing. But Thatch reached out in a flash and grasped hold of their paw. Pressing his calloused hand into the pad of theirs as he cooed, like Rueri was some small, fluffy creature to be dotted on.

“These claws? Noooo~ They’d never!” Thatch smiled gleefully, dark eyes teasing.

Rueri probably should have discouraged all this a while ago, but being treated like they were… harmless was strangely intoxicating.

It had taken a long time for them to come to terms with their body, and they were well aware of the danger they posed. So to have someone act like… not like Rueri was incapable but… unwilling? Like… they’d never? Which—of course, Rueri would never gore another person for no reason—it was just… sweet.

Thatch was sweet. Not quite saying that Reuri couldn’t just that they wouldn’t. So certain in his words, the faith he had in them was almost cloyingly sweet.

Warm, soft pressure registered on their captive claw and Rueri’s head whipped to the side, eyes wide as their fur bristled.

Cheeky and entirely too aware of how handsome he was for his own good, Thatch pressed a kiss to their claw with a teasing smirk.

“Mwah~!” he chuckled, hot breath seeping between their feathers intimately. “These pretty claws wouldn’t harm a fly!”

Trying to play off how affected they were by Thatch’s display, they cleared their throat.

“Shouldn’t you be… doing something else? Like leaving?” well, they didn’t intend to be that rude, damn. Their paw flicking free to press Thatch’s face away to hide their own grimace at how cold they sounded. The man’s chuckled curled warm against their skin, his smirk evident.

“Actually, my crew is leaving soon. And I was hoping we’d leave with one more?” Rueri paused, looking at him in confusion.

So he was from the ship… Rueri was never sure, the man always smelled like soap and herbs rather than unwashed sunshine like most sailors did.

“I doubt your… captain would appreciate a monster on board.”

“He’s actually been begging to meet you! Says I can’t keep hoarding your all to myself!” Thatch whined, “And my brothers are getting tired of my bragging! They all wanna see you!” he begged.

Rueri’s nose wrinkled at the thought of so many people. It wasn’t just local hostility that kept Rueri away from the village, after all. So many people. With their smells and sounds, it was easy to be overwhelmed.

“Bad idea. Are they worried about the attacks? Or were you always supposed to leave soon?” Rueri asked. Thatch huffed.

“A bit of both? We never stay anywhere for long, but the locals have been getting extra pissy lately.”

“Discovering a fifth man has been gutted and strung out to dry in the outskirts of the village would try most people.” Rueri stated dryly. “But no… and you best get back to your ship before you’re the sixth.” They dismissed, flicking their tail into Thatch face as they gathered their catch. Ready to call it a night.

“C’mon, you can’t want to stay like this forever! Alone in the woods, the only people who are around are assholes who judge you for looking different!” Thatch protested.

“It’s a bit more than just looking different, Thatch.” Reuri pointed out but refused to look at him as they secured their catch. “I am different.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be loved, too, Rueri.” The words caught in their chest like a knife. A deep, unsettling ache in their bones at the frank, borderline obscene statement. They couldn’t look at Thatch. Not for anything.

Their muscles tensed, talons digging into the earth as they prepared to run.

A shift of fabric—Thatch catching onto what they intended to do.

“And yet… it does.” Their words were enough, a wounded sound—his or theirs—as they darted into the trees with frightening speed.

Thatch, if he could, didn’t follow.

Originally, they planned to relax in the clearing until sunset before heading home, with Thatch’s unusual confrontation, they elected to just make an early day of it. Spit roast the fish they caught and fuss over their nest for a bit before sleeping. With the attacks still going on, Reuri had been making it a habit of being safely absconded in their nest early anyway.

Whoever had been killing people wasn’t someone they wanted to run into.

The fish wasn’t moving by the time they readied the fire, but that wasn’t unexpected. The bucket was just meant to make sure it didn’t die before they even got home. Careful claws sliced away pesky scales and plucked out bones that stuck painfully in their throat when missed, a dry herb mix rubbed into the flayed skin before it was placed over the fire. It was terribly basic and a little sad, but Rueri didn’t mind it so much anymore.

The unwanted parts of the fish went into a sealed container to make more bait for the next day.

The night air was cool and quiet, insects buzzing in the underbrush. In the distance, if Rueri focused, they could hear the village settling down for the night. Seems they also had a curfew in place in light of recent events.

They wondered if that included the ship and if Thatch made it home alright, a curl of anxiety in their gut at the thought of hearing the next victim was him. A low, foreign burn settling in their belly as they curled into bed. Prickling under their fur strangely, as though their anxious thoughts were kindling.

Sleep was a jagged, broken thing. Fractured pieces cutting into time. The temperate island unusually hot overnight. Midnight shadows like silk between trees as they struggled to settle down into their nest for real sleep. Heavy and dark on their senses until something broke through.

A click.

Sharp and metallic, the hammer of a gun clicking into place all too close.

It was ice jammed into their spine, eyes blown wide instantly as they looked out of the opening of their den to find a man aiming at them with a pistol. Face furious as they spat insults and accusations that fell like summer rain on their fur. Mind too hazy—were they sick?!—to make sense beyond small pieces.

“—fucking murderer—we—long—should have known!—” their features covered in shadows as Rueri cowered in confusion.

A shaft of moonlight cut through the darkness and the man choked, blood seeping from between his lips as he was dragged backwards onto his knees. Away from Rueri’s den, a hazy white shape taking form. Like something rising from the deep, a familiar face took focus from the darkness. A soft smile, almost relieved as he looked in on them.

“There you are! Sorry it took so long, I had to get some stuff ready. Thought you’d be asleep by now.” Thatch purred, his expression oddly dark. Covetous. His eyes flicking over Rueri in interest. “Ah… oops. Wrong meds, that’s my bad. Why don’t you let this handsome pirate take care of you, now, sweet thing?” he asked with a soft laugh. His scent catching in Rueri’s throat like fish bones, sharp and reaching deep.

Scattered as their thoughts were, they still managed to piece together the realization of what happened. What Thatch did—whatever it was—and acted accordingly.

Claws dug into the earth and Rueri was gone. Like a shot in the dark, over a cooling corpse and though the trees.

Rueri hazily expected anger. To hear cursing.

But Thatch’s laugh was deep and almost pleased, pooling in their belly like hot dinner. Somehow so close—but how?!

Calloused hands curled around their belly as they were scooped up against a thick chest, still vibrating with warm laughter. Fingertips carding through feathers and fur like he was inspecting his newest prize. Making sure to soothe Rueri’s covering back into a comfortable position as he traveled from the red crest between their breasts and the protective tuft nearly between their legs. A pleased hum vibrating along their back as Thatch nuzzled in close to their ear.

“W-What are you doing? Why…? What did you do?” Rueri stammered hotly, keening as his wide hand slipped between their thighs.

“The locals are so rude, did you know that? Not a kind word between any of them! Not even when I slit them open to figure out if there was any sweetness on the inside. Not that I expected differently, with how badly they treated my pretty baby.” Thatch sighed, crooking his fingers up against their clit. “Practically dripping honey, you’re so sweet. Deserved to be admired, like one of those jars of honey in the windowsill. Hmm, if I promise to be gentle, could I have a taste? Only right I clean up the mess I made—though I meant to do this in our room first. Show you how nice it would be with me.” Thatch walked back until he was against something—probably a tree—and let Rueri lean against him as he pressed in deep. Pulling a sharp trill from their throat that seemed to delight him.

“Y—You did this?! A-Ahn!” Rueri tried to bite back their moan as Thatch worked his hand more firmly against their body, pressing his palm against their clit as he worked in another finger.

“Yeah, meant to slip in something to make you sleep and give you this after we set sail. Show you how nice it’ll be with me, that you can just take what I give you, as much as you could ever want. All those nice things you never let yourself have—sweetness like this deserves its own reward, after all~” Thatch cooed, like Rueri yawned instead of letting slip a ragged, animal moan, fangs parting in the air under his watchful gaze as their muscles started to twitch.

Like Rueri was a soft, sweet kitten rather than a chimera of monstrous proportions. With deadly fangs and claws he couldn’t seem to stop staring at with want that threatened to push them over the edge.

Was it the drug?

Or did they always want like this? Something like this? To be held, pulled to the brink with kind hands and sweet words? On the edge, it was impossible to tell. Words stuck in their throat as they clenched onto his fingers that kept gently curling into their walls. Slick dripping freely, the sound mixing with his aroused moans, and their own choked cries.

Surely, this wasn’t for Rueri?

This uncompromising heat.

The sheer desire they could feel against their tail as Thatch pressed them against his own cock.

They were a monster.

You weren’t supposed to love those. To hold them gently, firmly against yourself. Splay out their body like a delicacy to be admired. Forearm pressed into their collarbone, their chin tucked close in shame as they panted. Fangs brushing over fabric and his breath hitched.

“Ffffuck—do it. Do it. Bite me, baby. Take what you need, oooh I got so much more to give you.” Thatch’s words were a dare.

A plea.

Something as broken and ugly as the loneliness in their chest. And Rueri was desperate—to soothe. To claim something soft and loving.

Just for them.

To keep—be kept—what was the difference, really?

A calloused thumb swirled in the mess and flicked over their clit, fingers stretching and curling in deep.

Fangs sank into hot skin and they both moaned like something feral. Not quite people anymore, but creatures of comfort. Of soft things and a desire to slide in so close no one was sure where the other ended or began. A shock of electric fire along their nerves as they slowly fell apart, almost oozing into Thatch’s arms as they panted.

“Perfect—let’s get you home for the main course, huh?” there was a wet sound as their thighs twitched, whining as Thatch pulled his hand free. The scent of their sex hot as he had a taste for himself. “Fucking perfection, as expected of my sweet, wild, baby.”

Exhausted, Rueri let him do as he pleased—certain now that he knew what he was doing and more than happy to leave him to it. Purring against his chest as he lifted them up into his arms properly. Humming to himself.

There was the rustling of the forest around them.

Then the sea. Low murmurs of conversation Rueri couldn’t be bothered to catch properly beyond the steady beat of Thatch’s heart.

Something soft as they were set down somewhere cozy and quiet. Thatch’s scent thick in their nose settling the anxiety before it could take root. Fabric dropping before a heavy weight pressed them into the bedding. Firm hands pulling and tugging them into place, tail askew and hips tilted up. Warm skin curled over their body, a thick arm propping up their head in a loose lock. Burying their nose in his arm as they blinked hazily.

“…Thatch?”

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, tilting their hips back a little more until something pressed between their folds.

“…you want me?” Rueri trilled, shuddering as he pressed in deep like he belonged there. His laugh was breathless, almost like he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I need you, Rueri.” He grunted, the tip of his cock grinding into them helplessly. Their tail flicking over him like they could hold him in place, curling against his leg pinning theirs open. “N-Never going to let you go now. Not that you want that, right?” he asked, pulling out until they whined, needing him to come back. Silencing them with a harsh slam. “My, what a sweet baby I have. Bite me, Rueri—show me I’m yours too. That we belong—right here. Together.” Thatch snarled, punctuating his words with desperate thrusts.

Their body was hot with want.

Finally, a place to belong.

Somebody to hold them tight.

Their fangs scrapped his skin and he whined, hips pitching faster. Free hand clutching the sheets before dragging beneath them to stroke their chest. Fondle the feathers and fur tangling in fabric down to where he was splitting them open. Calloused fingertips pressing hard on their clit. His words a slurred litany of praise and begging. Like he’d die without their fangs in his body on top of his cock in theirs. Like he needed them as deep as he was. The both of them writhing pathetically with need, every thrust inching Rueri closer to the edge and Thatch closer to madness.

“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease—need it—need you—fuck—need you!” his voice curled somewhere dark as Rueri licked the vulnerable skin of his forearm, grazing their fangs against his skin in what might have been a tease if it wasn’t born out of a desperate need to breathe. Moans and whines slick and mixed when Thatch pinched their clit hard.

A yelp, mouth stretching open to scream before skin was shoved between their fangs, body convulsing as they came with his blood in their mouth. Moans slurred with soft sucking and licks of their tongue as he fucked them harder. Whining into their sensitive ear as the high kept going—unable to stop, either of them, until he trembled. Something hot like liquid fire spilling out as Thatch tensed.

His body rigid and pressed in so deep Rueri half feared he’d never be able to pull out.

In hindsight, they should have been more worried he never wanted to.

After a long moment, they slowly collapsed. Muscles twitching and unspooling into loose piles. Sweat sticking uncomfortably as his cum seeped out in thick bursts.

Dazed, Rueri half expected Thatch to pull away in disgust. Post-nut clarity making him realize how bad of an idea this was—they were. But he barely shifted his weight slightly to the side, no longer quite so intent on crushing them into his bed, and nuzzled in close. Stroking them in unsteady, soothing motions. Massaging trembling limbs with a pleased murmur against their fur. Cock still hard and throbbing inside them.

“S-Still? Nnngh~T-Thatch?” Rueri spoke with difficultly, licking away the blood from their lips. His hips twitched, a low chuckle vibrating in their ear.

“Until it’s not even a question—yes. We stop when you realize how badly I need you.” His fingers, gentle now, stroked their folds.

“W-Whhy~?” Rueri moaned, tired and overstimulated now.

“Because you gotta ask, baby. So I have to drive the first lesson home—you’re not leaving while I still need you. And I won’t. Ever. Stop. Needing you.” His words were hot and dangerous, sharp like his blade as he cut in deep. Possessive and near madness in a way Rueri couldn’t understand.

But Thatch, as greedy as he was, was patient enough to teach them, it seemed.