Chapter Text
It’s a very… delicate time of year.
Or so you’ve been told; you can’t say for certain that you’ve ever been around a monster during their Season. Your stay at Nightmare’s castle has certainly prepared you for all manner of strange and unusual occurrences, but this?
This is a whole different beast.
In monster society—most iterations, anyway—Seasons are a mundane, normal occurrence. There’s little pomp or fuss surrounding the side-effects of magic-based biology; it's dealt with as just another part of life.
But for certain inhabitants of Nightmare’s realm, this normal occurrence has always resulted in a unique problem. A peculiar issue, stemming from the fact that they’re all, biologically, the same person. The unfortunate result being several mature male monsters— all under the influence of their seasonal rut—cooped up together in a single, enclosed building.
Normally, operations broke down for a week or more as they retreated to their own spaces. Each version worked through the excess magic in his own chosen way, be that with temporary partners or by holing up alone to burn it out. But things are different this time around.
Now… they have you.
~*~
It begins with a light-hearted argument. Your group of murderous skeletons have spent the evening lounging around the living room, trading jokes and stories. It’s a rare moment of peace, and everyone is taking advantage of it.
You sit huddled beneath a blanket on the couch, tucked sideways between two of your temporary magical space-heaters. The castle is kept particularly cold this time of year, for obvious reasons. You understand the necessity, of course—the excess heat rolling off their bodies is noticeable from across the room. But that doesn't make you any less miserable.
You doubt your toes will ever feel warm again.
For the last half-hour, Killer has been regaling you with tales of their shenanigans; the most recent being a heist to steal a gaming console (truly, a mission of multiversal-level importance). The sheer ridiculousness is too much—you have to call bullshit. It sounds exactly like the sort of crazy, over-the-top story he would make up just to mess with someone.
…You would pay to see Killer's boney, cakeless ass in that pleather catsuit though. If it happened the way he claimed.
The two of you get into it, playfully bickering back and forth to the amusement of everyone present… but at the height of your little spat things get a bit too heated. You make some questionable claims, roll your eyes at his assertions about his “dope-ass spy movie skillz” —and in retaliation he says the fateful words.
“wanna bet?”
Too wrapped up in your hubris (and the possibility of delicious consequences), you agree.
The stakes are laid out, logistics discussed… and your final, cheeky offer of a very specific prize catches the attention of more than one of your observing castle-mates.
What was that saying? To the victor go the spoils?
The tone of your negotiations shifts quickly after that. Plagued with leers and snickering and so many awful, suggestive puns, you nearly reconsider the life choices that led you to this moment. Thankfully, you weren’t raised to be a quitter. You patiently endure your torment, with grace and poise and several increasingly vulgar gestures in the direction of the peanut gallery.
Despite their light-hearted teasing, the others are quick to join in. They had been challenged by proxy, after all… it was only fair that they get the chance to prove you wrong, too. You suppose that’s what happens when you live in a castle with several alternate versions of the same skeleton monster. Alas.
Nightmare is the only one disinterested in participating, though he gives his blessing as long as his usual rules are followed. You watch—curious at the sudden shift in his demeanor—as his form melts away into the shadows of the castle. He claimed that your “puerile antics” (???) didn't appeal to him… but something tells you that he’ll participate in his own way. You know him well enough by now to catch on when he’s plotting something.
Ah, well. Puzzling out Nightmare's theatrics is a challenging feat best left for later, when you have more time on your hands. You'll need to hunt down a thesaurus first, anyways.
You’re pulled out of your musing by the sneaky fingers of a skeletal hand, tracing gently down the curve of your spine. You move to shoo the hand away, your lips twitching into a grin at his grumble of discontent.
That's probably your cue to make your escape. You have a game to prepare for, after all, and there's only one thing on their minds now. If you let them get handsy with you, you'll never make it out of the room.
You feel the heady weight of several eyelights on your back as you retreat towards the doorway. Excited magic begins to pulse through the air behind you, brushing across your skin in an almost physical caress. There's a distinct pulling sensation on your soul, like something (or some one) is trying to stop you from leaving. Coaxing you to turn around, tempting you to stay…
You can’t help the excited flutter in your chest… or the flicker of heat between your thighs.
A low, knowing chuckle from Axe has your cheeks flushing.
Now you really think it’s best to scoot your butt out of here… before they all decide they’d rather just skip the festivities entirely. Not that the thought isn’t enticing—you have fond memories of your last escapade in this room—but you have other intentions you’d like to play out instead. With that in mind, you pull away from the swirling magic and hustle through the open doorway.
You're only halfway down the hall when Killer blips in front of you.
The sudden appearance throws you off just enough that he’s able to crowd you back into the nearest wall before you can react. You open your mouth—a smart comment about him “not being able to wait ten freaking seconds” on the tip of your tongue—but the look on his face stops you short.
His expression is serious.
It's a far cry from the bouncing brow bones and shitty innuendo he threw around just minutes ago, and you're disarmed by the sudden switch. He capitalizes on your lack of resistance, drawing closer until every part of his body is pressed up against yours. The best your sluggish brain can manage in response is to grip the loosely hanging fabric of his jacket.
His hand slips into your hair, tugging lightly to tilt your head back. Something inside the empty void of his sockets is studying you, watching your face for even the slightest hint of hesitation.
“...you know it’s dangerous, playin’ with our instincts like this.”
Oh, boy. You are in danger, aren’t you?
Perhaps not in the truest sense, but…
That raspy voice of his has deepened, and the red glow of his already-formed tongue peeks out from between his teeth. You can feel the magic thrumming through his mana lines; that telltale tingling sensation travels through his body and pulses deep into your flesh. His bones are warming at an alarming rate, flushing a vibrant crimson… if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was starting to get sick.
He really doesn’t have any trouble working himself up, does he?
Killer gets right up in your face. So close you feel the occasional brush of his teeth against your lips.
"you're awfully confident an’ i respect that. but you've never seen us like this before. maybe you lost sight of it 'cause we've been all buddy-buddy with you, but we're monsters. s'not in our nature to be gentle right now. rut fucks with our heads… gets our magic all twisted up, achin’ and burnin’, desperate for one thing.”
You suck in a gasping breath as one of his hands slides down, down, until sharp claws dig into the plush give of your ass.
“soft little human like you… dunno if you can take everything we’ve got to give.”
The hand that's tangled in your hair tightens, locking your head in place, and a shiver courses through you at the sting.
“so enlighten me. you just naive? ...or d'ya like the risk?"
You take a deep, steadying breath, trying to ignore how good it feels to have his exposed soul pressed against your chest.
“I'm not ignorant, if that answers your question.”
His empty sockets narrow at you. You continue with a huff.
“You aren’t gonna scare me away, Killer. I want this. If that makes me naive or stupid or whatever, then fine. I don’t give a fuck. I’m prepared for whatever you have in store for me... I promise.”
A puff of heated air rolls over your face with his exhale, and his skull drops down into the crook of your neck. Both hands move to grip your hips as he breathes deep, taking in the scent that clings to your skin.
For the briefest moment, Killer's fingers dig hard into the flesh of your hips…
…and then he forces himself to step back, shoving his shaking, balled-up fists into his pockets. His whole form vibrates with pent-up energy as his teeth tilt into a crazed, eager grin.
“then ya better start runnin’... little rabbit.”
~*~
So here you are in a throw-away hoodie and old sweatpants, your beat-up shoes pounding against the pristine floors of Nightmare’s castle as you run like hell away from the storm brewing behind you.
The rules are simple. You have a brief head start before they start searching for you. If one of them manages to catch you…
…well.
If they get their hands on you, they can do whatever they want.
Your heart flutters with nervous excitement. There was something about a chase—the thrilling, primal desperation of being hunted— that set your blood on fire. With your datemates’ monster biology… you were in for a very productive evening.
It isn’t even the height of their rut; not yet. Your squishy human body wouldn't be able to handle this if it was. You’d have your hands full keeping up with just one of them. Not to mention, the extra features that normally came with this special time would make it impossible. It’d be kind of hard to play to your intentions when you could end up tied to one of them for who-knows-how-long.
Regardless, it’s close enough. They already have more than enough pent-up magic just begging for an outlet… and you're more than happy to provide.
Speaking of magic—
You feel a sudden shift in the air, a ripple of quiet power that makes your skin tingle. For a split second everything is still, stifling silence… and then you feel it: a rush of charged energy, like the buildup before a lightning strike. Pressure pops in your ears, and you feel a giddy grin slide across your face.
Game on.
A growing crescendo of sound carries through the castle, setting your nerves alight. Mocking laughter and teasing calls of your name echo off the walls, everywhere and nowhere at once.
No chance…
The words slither out from deep within your mind, an insidious whisper from a voice that doesn't quite match your own.
You stand no chance… they'll catch you eventually…
The sentiment does a poor job of instilling fear in you. No, you feel anticipation shuddering through your muscles instead. You're breathless with excitement, and for a moment you’re fondly amused at yourself.
Living in this castle has been a terrible influence on you.
The person you were a year ago couldn't have dreamed of where you were today. You never would've pictured yourself playing tag with a bunch of horny monsters, yet here you are… grinning like mad and eager to be caught.
Scandalous.
You really should've known better than to goad them on, especially right now… but what can you say? You know exactly what you want.
And what you want is to get dicked down by a goddamn skeleton.
Several skeletons, actually. This is what you get when you let your libido make decisions. Perhaps you ought to be concerned for yourself, but… eh.
This isn't the time nor the place for rational thinking. You checked your rationality at the door the day you willingly decided to live in the realm of a being called Nightmare.
You'll have to forfeit your ante, but you're not too bothered. Losing a bet is a small price to pay for such a unique experience… and making them work for their prize?
Well, that'll be half the fun.