Blue Sky, Twitch, TikTok, Red Note, Deviant Art, Art Fight, Toy House: MixterLogan
Ao3, Flight Rising: MixterGlacia
Fur Affinity: MadamGlacia
I'll be here until every light goes out.
EDIT:
Since this is up here, if you're a Helluverse fan I highly advise you block the tags Vivziepop Critical and Stolitz Critical. Also, Spindlehorse Critical and Hussie Critical. I'm not as active on my end anymore, but I'm a fairly frequent critic and I don't want you to find something that would ruin your fun. (no, you're not a bad person for liking her stuff. you do you, babes!)
EDIT 0.5: DON'T GO REAL LIFE. If you send harassment/death threats to Helluverse (or any media I don't like) fans/crew who are just enjoying themselves/doing their job, you are completely unwelcome here. If you see someone actually threatening without provocation, let me know and I'll warn the others to report and block.
EDIT 0.05: DO NOT LET ME THINK FOR YOU. I don't care if you 'trust my opinion'. Go form your own thoughts about any media I talk about, positive or negative. I do not want you to just...listen to me. I'm not some expert level writer, I'm just a guy who complains. I can and have been wrong in the past. You might find out you love something I hate and hate something I love! Go be independent.
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Hello! Can you do a sort of continuation from chapter 3 (Grendel King when he relaxes with his servant) where he gets back from a hunt but he’s injured pretty badly but he doesn’t mind it but the reader frets over it? (Grendel is soaking up the attention)
I really loved how casual things were and I would love to see that side of things progress :>
Thank you and have a nice day/night!
Filled!
Thank you for your patience!
You should be used to this by now.
The sight of your master's glowing blood. They hunted for a living, this was to be expected. Injuries were very common…
But darn it, you hated it all the same!
Especially ones that required traditional stitches. Grendel rolled his eyes when you refused to draw his bath.
"The doctor said no submerging." You reminded him as you retrieved a pitcher, bucket, and wash cloth. "No arguing."
His tusks clattered. "Who are you to make demands of me, Small One?"
You glared at him sharply. "Apparently the only one who cares about your risk of infection. You will listen to the medical team's orders. Even if it's through me."
The yautja hummed, ducking his head. A sign of agreeing or submission. But you frankly don't care about that right now. With a confidence that only came from the knowledge that you were safe with him, you push him into the empty tub.
Tying up your sleeves and pant legs, you bring what you need in. Drawing a full bucket from the spigot, you get to work.
Mostly, you're ensuring the rest of him is clean while he recovered. The cloth scrubbing any speck of grime from the huge warlord's hide.
A low, mechanical rumble tells you how much he enjoys it.
"Sometimes I think you get hurt intentionally." You observed.
His locs slide over his shoulder as he turned to look at you. "Now why would I do that?"
You don't reply immediately. Something you only got away with due to his fondness of you. You trace your fingers just shy of the massive gash along his ribs, trailing towards the plane of his stomach. "Maybe you like the attention."
A hand the size of your head settled against the small of your back. "…Maybe I do."
He drew you closer, his tusks ghosting along your cheek. You can feel his breath as he leaned in. The air thick with tension.
"My lord…you are wounded." You quietly refreshed his memory. "And I am unworthy."
"I care not for worth." He whispered. The gap between you could hardly fit a hair. "Perhaps all I need to feel 'better' is my favorite human…"
Grendel flicked his forked tongue against the shell of your ear. Despite how curious you are to know what it would lead to…you pull away.
"Your recovery comes first." You returned to the task at hand. Ignoring how he tried to encourage you to lay flat against his chest. "I will not allow you to distract me, my lord."
He sighed to make clear his dramatic irritation.
"Breeding season is a month away. You'll want this healed by then." You slightly adjust the conversation. "The leader of the Hollowed clan has declared interest in mating with you. I hear she's very rough. We'll need you fully capable."
"And what if I don't want her?" His implication was clear. A claw running through your short hair.
You choose to ignore it. "You are never short for suitors, my lord. Male, female, or anything in between. If you want them, they will be yours."
He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. "I'll remember that."
…Oh dear. You may have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble there.
"Kill them with kindness" Nah, fuck that, CRICKET BAT 🏏 🏏🏏🏏*SMACK* 🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏*SMACK*🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏*SMACK*🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏*SMACK*🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏*SMACK*🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏*SMACK*🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏🏏
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He raised his canopy of branches, blinking the lone eye that remained unaltered. "Shed?"
It growled.
"C'mon, I'm not gonna start calling you what you want." He sighed, glancing at the arms and legs tangled into his roots. He can't see its face from here. "Not after everything we've been through."
You've been so cruel to me. Why can't you give me this? It whined. Yes, whined. I am not whining!
"You are." He corrected it. "And why would you want me to call you what your fanatical components dubbed you?"
Because it's what I want.
Hm...his limbs stretched down to meet its many grasping fingers. "I think Shed is more fitting. What with all the bodies you've left behind."
It let out a wordless snarl. But not one of anger. Not purely. No, there was anguish there. A desperate pushing against his imprisonment.
"Shh...easy. You're making the pain worse." He strokes its hands.
Then let me go you-!
"If I could? I would." He promised it. "I didn't know you'd survive. I didn't know I would. I tried to free us both."
Oh how noble. It hissed.
"Bloodshed."
It went completely still. Then, in the softest of its voices, the one that had tried to end his own suffering- ...Simon.
"I hate what you did to me."
It actually croaked out a chuckle at that. The first he'd heard since he detonated the sub. Likewise.
"...And while I'd do it all again...I'm sorry."
The Eel was silent for a very long time. Hours, at the very least. Maybe an entire day. But when it responds, it matches his gentle tone.
I understand...you may call me what you like. When I regain strength, I'll be sure to make my escape very painful for you.
Simon's face was barely capable of movement anymore. But he could feel the smile breaking through the scaled bark. "Wouldn't have you any other way, Shed."
(a little follow up to the 'gentle' AnglerButcher drabbles I've been doing recently. I love them so much I need them to peel each other's spines out)
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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