My supporters on Patreon had exclusive early-access to this a few days ago – as they do with any monster story that’s not a paid commission – but it’s time put it up here now! If you want early access to all free tumblr stories, exclusive Patreon-only monster stories, blog posts, photos about my metalworking etc. my tiers on Patreon start from just $1.
Damp air hit your nose and lungs the moment you stepped out
onto the rain-soaked street. Neon lights reflected off wide, shallow puddles,
creating a mirror on the world and refracting light back into the atmosphere. The
city at this time of night had a wondrous kind of peace to it.
It had only just stopped raining. White steam from a vent in
a building near the bar’s entrance billowed lazily up through the night air,
coiling itself lazily around the cold metal of a fire escape.
You drew another deep breath, revelling in the quiet hum of
the city in the background after the ear-pounding ruckus of the bar. The
hulking bouncer in the doorway of the bar nodded at you as you passed, but
offered no conversation. The huge orc had his dark hair tied back into a
ponytail, and tattoos all up one side of his face and down his neck. As much as
you liked more slender figures, you had to admire the way this guy looked in a
suit, just for a moment.
The dull pounding at your temple eased as you leaned against
the wall on the other side of the door, and you let out another cavernous sigh.
You loved your friend dearly, but this was not really your kind of place. She
was a regular here though.
The fae waitress who’d been assigned to your table for the
night must have left another round of birthday shots, and the cheer from your
friends washed out through the door as another patron left the bar behind you.
You stayed where you were, tapping one foot idly against the wet ground. The
soft slap of your soles in the puddle made a reassuringly quiet counterpart to
the distant noises of the city after the racket of the bar.
After a good five minutes of staring blankly at the brick building
opposite, just breathing quietly in and out, your reverie was shattered by the
arrival of a sleek, black bike, engine growling, seeming to make the heavy air
itself vibrate and judder. You groaned as the peace of the moment was stolen
away.
Every since you were little, you’ve always had a strange affinity for cats. No matter where you are, you seem to draw them to you. It isn’t uncommon for strays or other peoples pets to approach you when you are out and about. You’ve even watched the big cats at the zoo’s react similarly, bounding over to the glass and rubbing against it insistently.
It shouldn’t surprise anyone that you have ended up with quite a few cats living with you, having been unable to send them on their way, when they were so in need of some love. That’s what brings you here, buying a mass of cat food at 3am on a Sunday.
As you turn from the now almost empty shelf, ready to go in search of the last few items, you run straight into a broad chest. Looking up, you stammer a flustered apology, heart pounding with fright. For a moment, you could have sworn their eyes flashed, pupils pulled into slits, but the second you blinked, they were back to normal, or as normal as wine red eyes could be.
So Vlad T. Impala (otherwise known as Vlad Tepes, but that is an old name of an older time) is a modern-day Cat Lady in his free time, and he has come to pick up a particular brand of cat food.
Due to a look that feels like minutes rather than seconds, you come to the idea that he’s here to pick up a brand of cat food that’s been emptied off the shelf…and into your basket/carriage.
His wine-red eyes roam over your shoulders and sleeves, while your eyes notice the few hairs on his, matching those of a few cats you’ve given hospitality.
When your eyes meet again, he speaks.
“So, you’re the one who’s been feeding Mr. Prickles.”
He’s very protective and possessive over what is his, but also he has faith in you. He wouldn’t choose you if you weren’t loyal. He’s too in tune, too careful to pick unwisely now. So the marks he gets off on, you too. Their delicious reminders sate him, make him happy.
Alright folks, it’s been up on exclusive early release on my Patreon, along with a couple of patreon-only drabbles featuring a plus size reader and a female monster, so if you’re able to support me over there, you can get all of this and more on the Pixies and Goblins tier!
Anyway, here’s a cerberus-type story for you. Very brief mentions of the unwanted attentions of a drunk on a train near the start, but it’s very quick. Other than that, no warnings.
You stepped onto the Underground train as it squeaked and
rumbled to a halt, and stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. It was late,
even by your standards, and this was probably one of the last trains still
running at this hour. The carriage that stopped in front of you seemed as
deserted as the platform, but the moment you stepped onto the stuffy train, you
realised you were not alone.
The creature sharing the carriage with you was one of the
rarest of non-humans – rare to the point of almost mythical – and you couldn’t
help the way your breath caught in your throat when you saw the three heads of
the fluffy, white-furred cerberus sitting near the doors at the other end of
the carriage.
They were colloquially known as ‘cerberus’ or ‘cerberi’, but canis polycephalous happened to be
their proper name. Whatever they went by, they were very, very rare.
One of the heads looked up curiously as you stepped into the
carriage and sank down into a seat, trying really hard not to stare openly. They
were wearing a red and black plaid shirt, and scruffy looking jeans with one
ankle resting on the opposite knee. Their hind paws were bare and they had
leathery looking pads and sharp claws. As you stole another surreptitious
glance along the train, you could see that one of the heads was wearing glasses
and was dozing quietly against the glass panel by the door, while the middle
head was staring at a mobile phone, and the third was looking at you. Their
hands reminded you of paws, though they had fingers which ended in short, white,
hard-looking talons, like polished marble.
You smiled reflexively when you met their eye, and then
tried to look away, cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. The left eye in
that head was a bright, crystal blue, the right a warm, coffee brown like the
others. God, they were really beautiful.
Ofc. You were always threading your hair through it during sex or playing with it while you watched a movie in the couch. He knew you’d be upset if he cut it so he never did. Your compliments on the length only validated his decision
Toad's Cave 