#growling and snarling like a feral animal. there is foam coming out of my mouth. my eyes are wild. my stance is shaky. i need him.

[emmcfrxst]

im gonna lose it. IM GONNA LOSE IT. i need this mountain of a man in my bed NEOW. i need him to screw my brains out soooooo passionately and let me leave scratch marks all over that delicious back of his AAUUUUGHHGHUHHUGH

(@moeitsu ily for sharing these on here omgg)

[muffinsin]

Hello my FAVORITE child, your Mother stopping by to drop a HC request if ya don't mind humoring me. I give you free reign with the maidens.... they are replaceable . But my vases and flowers are off limits still. You still do no wrong and are so perfect, smart and intelligent.

Also make sure u drain the blood the way Alci showed with the maidens. Now to my ask...... *unfolds a long ass piece of parchment paper and puts on my glasses*

Ok so hear me out. You know my HC on Feral Cass after her Cadou implant. Like babygirl is dumb ass rocks. She cant speak, talk, read, write, like nothing. Her whole brain gets wiped from something going wrong w her Cadou. She ask like a legit animal, like growling and snarls instead of words. U know feral feral.

SO like I would LOVE to hear your HC's on what Feral Cass would be like if she is like on a hunt and finds a pregnant women in the woods. For some reason or the other the women is lost from the village cuz preggo brain. Like she can smell that the women is with child and gets maybe curious about just what that means. *dumb ass rocks Cass but still has those baser instincts to know that this isn't normal prey* And maybe Cass like ends up protecting the women from an attack *cuz u know those woods aint never safe* so she is even more confused on why she did that. Why protect this "bloated "human ? Its just a human... right? She kills humans just to kill, what was different about this one type.

OK I go now... I ramble. BYYYEEEEE MY FAVORTIE CHILD!!!!!!

Hello, Mother @darkittensniper ! I suppose the vases and flowers being off limits is acceptable aims hatchets at the windows Being right and correct and all😌🙌 Dw, I know how to drain em >:)

Nooooow, abso-freaking-lutely! We love sum feral Cassie in this house🙌

Let’s get into it :)!

Masterlists

Noises, smells, visuals, everywhere. Cassandra loves and hates it at the same time

Her head jerks, from left to right, up and down. Her eyes wide, her lips parted enough to allow a glimpse of sharp, white canines dripping blood

Every little sound has her attention

Every little movement has her twitch and glance in the direction

Every scent makes her growl quietly

A hunt- a good hunt, this one will be. Certainly

If only she could settle on a prey. There is simply so much to choose from, she’s foaming at the mouth and growling in excitement already

Birds, boars, rabbits, villagers and hunters, Lycans and bears, even a varcolac!

She turns her head to the right, so fast it feels as though her neck is snapping

Cassandra snarls at the sensation, and for a moment it’s enough to drown out the noise she has just heard

Ah, but it returns. Panting

Yes, unmistakably

Female. Exhausted. Panicking. Crying

Cassandra’s eyes flash dangerously for a moment

She snarls for a mere moment again, her claw-like nails digging sharply into the handles of her daggers. For a second she considers dropping them, before the memory of the special engravings on its handle remind her not to do so

Then, a smirk appears on her face when she catches the direction of the strange scent

She is ready to hunt

She runs fast, uncaring and unaware of her dress getting stuck on twigs and thorns and ripping free again seconds after

Often, it nearly makes her trip. She pays it no mind, only keeps running

She can’t think, can’t talk, can’t do a thing but follow the noise and follow her basic instinct to discover, claim, and kill

The closer the gets, the more feral she seems to become

Her mouth waters at the loud heartbeat she hears, her eyes widen at the overwhelming scent that hits her

Suddenly she stops in her tracks, so sudden it’s as if she’s run into an invisible wall

She snarls, then whimpers, as though in confusion

Certainly, this scent is different than a normal one

Hunger and brutality is met with curiosity

As her legs come to a final halt and she stalks quietly, she finds her prey

She moves under twigs and through bushes, quietly snarking and smacking them away with the sharp sides of the daggers

Her lips curl upwards when she finds her prey again, this time being granted a closer look

Panting, crying, hissing and groaning, clutching her bloated stomach. Poor thing. Not that Cassandra understands

A woman. This much is clear

You’re unaware of the feral, beast-like brunette watching you from among the trees

You don’t hear her growl, her snarl of frustration when she can’t figure out what’s different about you

You don’t care, either, though

Not when all your attention is pulled to your foot and the harsh metal spikes piercing it

The flesh of your ankle is swollen and red, pulsing and radiating heat. You cry out and pant to yourself as you attempt to work on the sharp metallic teeth

A bear trap

Cassandra catches wind of this, too

Her lips are all too dry, and as her tongue darts out to lick them, her eyes flash to the blood covering your ankle

Hunger takes over her again, and as she inhales sharply, a small, excited squeak passes her lips

Her head jerks sideways again when a roar is heard, loud enough to cover her hiss and growls of displeasure and loud enough for even you to hear

A bear

She feels excited again, her bloodlust returning wholly, among something else

She needs to slay this beast

She practically tastes your panic in the air as the sound rings out and scares nearby birds

Is she about to watch the bear devour you? It doesn’t seem so

With a mind too clouded, the feral brunette can’t even entertain the idea of it

Instead, she swarms fast, the tip of her dagger grazing your shoulder as she stands in front of you

Protectively, even

She bares her teeth at the large animal coming from among the twigs and bushes, her own, sharp canines on display, blood and drool forming at her mouth

The beast stares for a moment, as though to think this over

Both are locked into a staring match, neither advert their eyes, neither moving at all

She takes in the black fur, the brown eyes, the mouth pulled to form a snarl similar to hers

Sharp teeth, perhaps even sharper claws on the animal’s paws

She practically vibrates with excitement, her flies buzzing both excitedly and aggressively

After a few seconds, she can’t stand the anticipation any longer

She charges, a growl and snarl coming from her

Yet, in her dizzying bloodlust and excitement, she is once again too fast and little strategic

As the bear moves sideways, Cassandra hisses. She slams against one of the trees, the wood hard against her shoulder

She snarls angrily, her body turning back to the bear running at her. It too is ready to charge now

She rips herself from the tree, her daggers slicing harshly into the bear’s massive neck

As blood spills and slaps her in the face, she laughs, the sound almost high pitched in excitement, the most human one she has been able to make so far

Clearly, she is enjoying herself

You watch in awe as she fights the beast, the show temporarily distracting you from the aching and biting pain of your ankle

The bear falls fast, a loud roar the last sound coming from it when daggers and teeth dig into its neck and rip brutally

A quick death, albeit a bloody one. You wonder if yours will be the same

The brunette hasn’t yet turned her attention back to you

She’s studying the body, sniffing and prodding, cutting and licking the blood off the blades, uncaring when she accidentally makes a cut at her own tongue or lip

You watch her, elegant, yet not elegant at all at the same time…her movements are fast and animalistic, feral

She snaps her head when she hears something, sniffs and tilts her head to examine the corpse

And yet, the way she holds her daggers, the way her back is just slightly arched as she has a look…she has something regal about her, a mere trace of elegance deep within

You turn your attention back to the bear trap

When you attempt to grasp one of the metallic claws and tug the trap open, you nearly scream in pain. It doesn’t budge, and you can’t see it properly with your stomach disallowing you to sit up as you’d like to

You bite down on your lip harshly, so that only a whimper comes from you, and gently stroke over your stomach to calm yourself

You remember what you have been told. To stay calm. To avoid stress. Well, that’s working out well for you…

Yet, you don’t realise that your pained whimper immediately has her head snap back to you

She’s back at you in an instant, her eyes following you when you flinch backwards

She feels- confused

Why did she save you?

Cassandra hovers over you, the blood at her face immediately catching your attention

Yet, with your leg stuck, you can’t even pull away as she climbs over you, the slightly torn parts of her dress almost ticklish against your trapped leg

You watch her face lower to your stomach, her expression almost confused

Cassandra snarls for a moment. No response comes from you or your stomach

Why is it like that? Why do you smell so odd?

She catches the scent, yours, and your blood. And another. A light one. Coming from your stomach

You tense as she inhales, her cheek brushing against your covered stomach

Cassandra only grows more curious. Uncaring about you, she sinks her teeth into the fabric of your shirt and pulls it up

Yet, when she doesn’t find a human curled against you like expected, but a large stomach only, she jumps back in surprise

Had it not been for the quick beat of your heart and the painful ache of your leg, you might’ve laughed at the strange view of this woman being startled by your stomach

However, she is quick to approach you again

With her head tilted sideways, she eyes you curiously

You realise- she isn’t going to hurt you. Nor is she going to hurt your unborn baby

Instead, she keeps sniffing about, eyes wide, fingers poking and prodding as though to confirm it’s your skin

When you attempt to sit up, you scream, having momentarily forgotten about the bear trap

Her eyes flash and widen, and for a mere moment the beautiful gold in them catches you off guard

You watch her move down your body, sniffing and inspecting you, as though checking for more wounds

Then, she is right at the beartrap

She grabs it, and with a firm yank, it comes loose

You scream, and for a moment, clutch your stomach tightly

Confusion sets in when Cassandra copies the action, her bloodied hands on top of you too

She seems unsure of her own actions, as though they’re driven purely by instinct, rather than actual thought and consideration

She watches you for a few more moments, before leaning close to your stomach again

You gasp in surprise when she suddenly smears her face against you, her bloodied cheek rubbing against you

Affectionately, almost

She growls as she repeats the action, again, and again

At last, she faces you again

Her head tilts. She takes you in, you realize. She is curious about you

“I’m from-the village”, you clarify for her. You wonder whether she can even understand you

She certainly looks human

“I got lost”, you admit, your voice raspy from screaming and crying

You don’t dare look down at your injured leg, instead keep your eyes fixated on her golden ones

She whines and snarls for a moment, then seems to come up with whatever she has been trying to think of

You shriek in surprise when her arms wrap around you and you’re lifted off the dirty ground

With certainty, she begins to walk, seemingly bringing you deeper into the forest

[hailbop1701]

25 Days of Ficmas

December 16th prompt: "It's fucking freezing!"

Word count: 4,062

Ripper's Gifts

Warning: Blood and gore are ahead! Please of that makes you uncomfortable skip this one. Might be triggering!

Hi everyone! So this one went pretty damn dark pretty damn fast! I blame @thottiewithashotgun! So this content might not be suitable for all viewers! Reader!Whump and Angsty!Kennex Lemme know how I did!

-H❤🖖

Detective John Kennex chuckled amused at the face you were making across the street. You had a deep scowl and your arms were firmly crossed over your chest. “Come on (Y/N) you have to be seductive,” he said into the comms. You full-on glared in his general direction, “It’s fucking freezing! I don’t see you out here in a short tight dress!” you growled. John snickered again, “yeah well the guy we’re after has a type and I’m not it,” he said a clear smile in his voice. You huffed and leaned back against the bar you were situated in front of. You pulled a pack of cigarettes from your clutch bag and put one in between your red-painted lips, Dorian furrowed his brows. “Since when do you smoke?” he asked mildly concerned; you smirked, “I don’t. But I refuse to look like this standing out on the sidewalk,” you mumbled lighting the cigarette expertly. Noticing the heavy silence you rolled your eyes, “let’s just say I was rebellious in high school,” 

John chuckled, “I don’t think that has changed much (Y/N),” you narrowed your eyes and discreetly flipped him off. John’s laughter grew louder, “Target sighted,” Dorian broke in leaning forward. A man pulled up in an old van that really shouldn’t be street legal, he pulled on a hood and hopped out of the driver's seat. He whistled twirling a set of keys around his finger, face covered he ducked around the car to where you were standing. “Damnit I can’t see them,” John muttered straining to see over the windowless van. “Can anyone get a visual?” he asked into the comms. There were multiple negatives; Kennex looked over at Dorian who was staring off into space trying to find any CCTV footage of the bar. That’s when everything went dark, Dorian sagged in his seat and John’s leg felt heavier than it should. John shoved open his door, he watched as SWAT surged forward. They rounded the van and it was completely silent for a moment before the SWAT commander walked back towards him shaking his head. “Fuck!” he shouted punching his steering wheel repeatedly. The commander looked elsewhere awkwardly, “Detective, the EMP affected half the city we need to get back to the PD,” he said after a minute of Kennex’s seething. Taking a deep breath John nodded and started his car, “I’ll meet you there,” he muttered slamming his door shut. 

The PD was a flurry of activity, Dorian-who revived in the middle of the trip back- help John to his desk. Rudy rushed over to him with a tool bag in his hand, “What happened?” Maldanado snapped striding over to him. John gritted his teeth, “Guy knew it was a setup,” he hissed rolling up his pant leg so Rudy could do his thing. The Captain’s eyes flashed, “He set off a major EMP! Half the city is in the dark!” she practically shouted making John’s temper flare. “He also has (Y/N)! He had an exit strategy,” he snarled, the Captain gave him a warning look before her eyes softened. She knew John may or may not have some feelings for you. “We’ll find her John but until the power comes back on we’re flying literally in the dark,” she said in a calming tone. Kennex deflated, his thoughts immediately went to the case file and the autopsies of the girls that had been found. Dorian placed a hand on his partner and friend's shoulder, “We’ll find her John,” he reassured. John glanced down at Rudy who had lifted his leg onto a chair; the skittish man was mumbling to himself as he unscrewed a little panel from the prosthetic. “Will I live?” Kennex asked dryly. Rudy’s head snapped up his glasses crooked slightly, “It should be fine, I just need to fix a few little things and then you’ll be good to go,” he said waving a tiny screwdriver around. John sighed and leaned back in his chair a tension headache brewing over his eyes. He didn’t want to think about what could be happening to you. 

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It felt like your head was full of cotton and a subtle pain in your shoulders and wrists made you groan. “I’m hanging like a piece of meat. That’s great, just great,” you muttered sourly; opening your eyes you saw that you were in what looked to be a basement. “Great, a dungeon. The guy has a dungeon,” you grumped a scowl forming on your lips. Something shifted in the shadows of the basement, leaning forward as far as the chains on the wall allowed, you squinted your eyes hoping to get a better look. Suddenly a feral dog jumped into the light snarling and snapping his jaws at you, white foam fell from his mouth. A spiked collar and chain kept him secured to the wall. The large animal growled and barked trying to break free of his restraints; you quickly leaned back hoping to keep as far away from the hound as possible, “Good doggy…” you gulped. The sound of old fashioned locks clicked and the basement door opened with a loud screech. Wincing at the sound you tensed as the man slowly stomped down the stairs, “I see you’ve met Baxter. Seems like he’s excited to see you,” he chuckled. Your stomach churned your mind flashing back to the case file and how the bodies were mauled by a large animal. “Oh he’s...charming,” you mumbled eyes flitting back and forth between the killer and his pet hellhound. The man strode across the room so he could stand in front of you, he reached out and gripped your chin tightly turning your head left and right multiple times. He was examining you. He hummed in approval, “Such a beautiful specimen,” he purred, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You gritted your teeth and tried to yank your head from his grip, he growled and grabbed your throat angrily slamming your head back into the concrete wall. Choking on a pained cry you glared at the serial killer, “Now be a good girl,” he scolded with a cluck of his tongue. When you kept silent he let go of your throat, hissing you glared at the bastard “They’ll find me,” you growled. The killer chuckled, “I think they’ll be too busy to find you, but don’t you worry. They’ll see you soon,” 

The statement sent shivers down your spine, the underline promise in it made you feel a little sick. Taking a shuddering breath you watched as he rummaged through a box of items; he pulled out what he needed and gently placed them in neat rows on what looked to be a surgical tray. Consistent with what you John learned, the man was medically trained. He would dissect and cut away his victims, they also found many dog bites littering the remains. Glorified meat puzzles. He looked up at you with an excited gleam in his eyes, “I know I have a method to my madness but you, my dear are very special! You get something a little different today,” he said and started to hum Christmas music under his breath. Going to the large metal table in the center of the room killer the media happily dubbed “The Ripper,” (after the original Jack the Ripper) turned on an overhead light. Blinking your eyes at the sudden assault to the senses you swallowed back bile. The floor and the table were covered in old dried blood, Ripper hummed joyously setting up a camera on a tripod so it could capture the table perfectly. He checked his watch smiling at the time. “Well my dear, it looks like it’s time!” He cheered with a loud clap. Baxter growled in his corner at the sudden loud noise, you struggled causing the chains to clatter against the walls. Ripper seemed to enjoy your fear; he slowly strolled over to you dancing and shuffling to the music he put on. Pulling a gun from the back of his pants Ripper held it pointed at you as unshackled your wrists. Your arms fell limply to your side, a pained groan fell from your lips making Ripper smiled cheekily. He placed his free hand over the back of your neck giving it a non-to-gentle squeeze. Hissing he lead you over to the bloody table; he waved his gun gesturing for you to climb on. Glaring you stood your ground refusing anything else he asked. Rolling his eyes he pulled the pistol back and whipped it across your face, yelping you crumbled toward the ground only to be caught by Ripper. “Now that’s better!” soothed as he placed you on the table with your hands back over your head, much to your bitter annoyance. Blearily you tried to fight him but he was stronger than he looked; Ripper pulled leather restraints across your chest, wrists, hips, and ankles. Tightening them so the only thing you could really move was your wrists he checked his watch again. He bellowed the rest of his song as he walked around the table to the camera, “There, now I’m sure you’re wondering what this was all about!” Ripper said walking back to your side, you realized with a jolt that he wasn’t talking to you. The red light blinked indicating that he was broadcasting to someone, ‘oh my god,’ you thought panicking. Your chest became tight and you became dizzy; Ripper smirked running a finger across your cheek, “You see I don’t like to be tricked. I don’t like the constant stupidity from you-” he searched for the word he wanted to use twisting his hand in a circular motion. “ trash heaps,” he concluded proudly. “The world will be better with the work I’m doing!” he screamed over the cheerful sound of Winter Wonderland as it played in the background. 

Ripper picked up a syringe off of the surgical tray, pushing the plunger a stream of cloudy liquid streamed out. When he felt the dosage was right Ripper placed the needle to your neck. You tried to turn your head in so he could get a clear shot but he simply placed a hand on your forehead and slammed your painfully to the side. You felt the prick of the needle and the mysterious liquid enter your veins. It felt cold going through your body like ice was forming in your blood; the sensation was short-lived. A burning fire replaced the ice, every nerve was twitching painfully and you could help the pained shriek escape your lips. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Kennex’s stomach dropped as he and the others in the precinct watched as The Ripper injected an unknown compound into your blood. Your eyes were glassy and sweat rolled off of your forehead. You were gasping for air and shaking like a leaf, “As you can see I managed to perfect my serum! Every nerve ending in detective (Y/L/N)’s body is now extremely sensitive to touch. So if I do this…” he spoke like he was giving a lecture on the best ways to torture someone. Ripper took a dull blade from the tray next to him and dug it into your arm and slowly dragged it upward. A deep bloody gash ran from the crook of your elbow to your shoulder blade; the sound of your pained screams made John grip the back of his chair tightly. Valerie Stahl covered her mouth as Ripper plunged the knife into the opposite shoulder. Many of the people in the room turned their eyes away, “Dorian,” John’s voice was clipped. The android had been working to track the location ever since the footage started broadcasting. “I’m working on it!” the DRN said frantically eyes swinging back and forth like he was reading at an extremely fast pace. Rudy was tapping quickly at John’s computer only looking up occasionally at the screen, sweat beading at his temples. “Faster damnit!” 

Your screams and shrieks of pain were getting more and more frequent. Blood covered your face as Ripper made shallow scratches and cuts to it. Dorian’s head snapped up, “I got him!” he said and cocked his head to the side a surprised expression crossed his face. “He’s seven blocks from here!” he gasped looking at his partner. “Cocky bastard!” detective Paul said from the other side of the bullpen. Kennex grabbed his gun from his desk drawer, loading it he shoved it into his holster. Moving quickly towards the exit John stopped when your screaming tapered off. Twisting around to look at the screen he saw you panting heavily, your chest heaved up and down. Tears fell from your eyes, Ripper gently brushed them away cooing at you. “You have a lovely singing voice,” he complimented as Silent Night played lowly in the background. “I would love to hear more,” 

Stahl screeched and turned around covering her eyes. Ripper slammed a cleaver down on your arm just below your elbow effectively cutting off your arm. Your screams would echo through John’s skull for the next several months. The video cut off and Kennex was flying out the door with several MX’s and police behind him. “Calling EMS!” Dorian called as they raced to the car. 

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You felt so cold; like you would never be able to get warm again type of cold. You heard your name being called but you couldn’t tell who needed you, their voice was so far away. You were underwater, so deep under you almost couldn’t feel the pain anymore. “(Y/N) stay with me, sweetheart,” the voice begged. There was muffled shouting a very distant screaming, “don’t worry (Y/N) I got you,” ‘Dorian?’ you thought dreamily. The figure above you swam in and out of focus, the darkness of the water crept in. You fought it off as long as you could but it won in the end, you felt yourself get lowered and a warm hand cupped your cheek. “John what did you do?” ‘John? Why is Dorian mad?’ you questioned as you faded into the abyss. 

The next time you floated to the surface you heard hushed voices and a hand in yours. It didn’t last long but you no longer felt oppressed or in pain. The weight on your chest has lifted and you drifted away knowing that you were truly safe. Time passed and Christmas was long over, springtime rolled around with little fanfare. The first thing that came back was your sense of touch, it was warm and the surfacing you were lying on was as stiff as an autopsy table. Your heart rate picked up; ‘I can’t be back there!’ your thoughts suddenly screamed. Your hearing flared to life, there was a loud scrape of a chair sliding across the floor. Frantic beeping filled the air, panic settled in your gut. The sound of rushing footsteps caused you to peel your eyes open, “Detective (Y/L/N), can you hear me? You’re in the hospital, everything is alright!” a commanding yet soothing tone broke through your panic. Choking you searched for the voice, a man in a white doctor’s coat stood above you gesturing for a nurse to get on your other side. He unhooked a few things from the thing that was going down your throat, eyes wide you saw Dorian and Valerie Stahl standing anxiously at the foot of your hospital bed. “(Y/N) I need you to cough for me on the count of three,” the doctor said gently his hands on the tube. He counted and you did as you were told and coughed as hard as you could. He swiftly slid the tube from your throat and set it aside on a tray. Introducing himself as doctor Greene he pulled an object from his coat pocket, coughing and gagging you turned your head away from the man as he ran a penlight over your eyes. He was patient with you as you fought him, “I- what-” you stuttered voice horse; a nurse glided over to you holding a pink plastic cup of ice chips. “You’ve been in a medically induced coma for the past five months. The mystery compound you were injected with took a toll on your body,” Doctor Greene hesitated for a second, clearing his throat he looked down at the floor. A pit formed in your stomach, “I’m afraid to tell you that we did everything we could but we couldn’t save your arm. The compound that was given to you had corrupted the tissue and caused a severe infection.” cold dread filled your body and the doctor’s words rang in your ears. You sat frozen for the longest time, you didn’t even notice that the medical staff had left you alone with your friends until Dorian gently took the hand that was still there and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I promise it will all be okay,” Dorian whispered to you as the tears silently fell. Valerie stood on your other side and started running a hand through your hair, “where’s John?” you asked meekly taking notice that he wasn’t there. You wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that you’ll walk away from all this better than before, but he was nowhere in sight. Dorian and Valerie looked at each other holding a silent conversation, “I’ll get you some more ice,” Stahl whispered and placed a kiss on your forehead. She left you and Dorian alone, “Dorian…” you whispered eyes wide fearing the worst. Dorian looked down at your attached hands, “John is working, he uh he has been very busy,” he said voice hard. Your brows furrowed, “I-he didn’t,” you whispered your heart cracking at the revelation. The android leaned down and hugged you gently, “I’m sorry (Y/N),” he whispered. He held you until your tears dried; with the promise to visit the next day with Rudy Dorian left you in Valerie Stahl’s care. 

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You had been awake for a few weeks and everyone had come to see you at one point or another. Some more than once; well all but one. Dorian was none too happy, he had to watch as you deflated every time someone who wasn’t John came walking through your hospital room door. Things were already hard for you and that fact that someone you cared about couldn’t be bothered. So that night after his visit with you Dorian stormed up to John Kennex’s apartment. Ringing the bell repeatedly until the door flew open; John stood there a bottle of jack in his hand and a deep look of irritation on his face. Dorian shoved past him with a, “you look like shit,” John scoffed taking a swig of the almost empty bottle. “Come right in,” he muttered dryly slamming the door shut. Turning John glared at his partner, “what do you want Dorian?” he asked taking another drink. It was Dorian’s turn to scowl, he snatched the bottle from John’s hands and tossed it right into the trash. The glass shattered with finality, “Dorian!” John shouted outraged, he surged forward but stumbled into the kitchen counter. Blinking the drunken dizziness John glared up at his friend, “You have been an ass these past few months. But now you’re officially a drunken ass,” Dorian said eyes piercing. Kennex scoffed again, “she doesn’t need me. Worse when I’m around anyway,” he said easily figuring out what the DRN was talking about. 

Dorian laughed humorously, “get your head out of your ass John it isn’t about you at all! It’s about (Y/N), she was tortured and was in a coma. She lost a part of herself, and I thought you’d be able to help her through it! She’s hurt and confused about why one of her closest friends isn’t there!” he started shouting. John flinched like he’d been slapped, “I know!” he ended up shouting back. “I fucking know! I’m sorry, okay?” Dorian’s fists clenched at his sides, “I’m not the one you need to say sorry to,” he said darkly. Kennex leaned back against the glass that leads to his bedroom and slid down to the floor a deep sadness in his eyes. Dorian took an unneeded deep breath, “John you gotta know that it wasn’t your fault man, none of it was,” he said in a gentler tone crouching next to his friend. It was John’s turn to laugh humorously, “I should have been standing nearby or-” he choked and looked away. “She’s alive and the Ripper is dead. You made sure of that,” Dorian reminded placing a grounding hand on Kennex’s shoulder. “You need to go see her man, it’s tearing both of you up,” 

Taking a deep shuddering breath John staggered to his feet, “I uh mean like tomorrow,” Dorian murmured watching as John grabbed his jacket and keys, “you’re driving,” was all the drunken man said tossing the keys to his partner. Shaking his head Dorian followed the man out of his apartment, “We’re stopping to get you some coffee, and maybe a breath mint. Hose you down in the parking lot,” he muttered quietly. 

An hour- two cups of coffee, and some deodorant later John stood in the doorway of your hospital room. Your chest rose and fell steadily as you slept; you looked peaceful and he immediately regretted coming at such a late hour. He felt Dorian nudge him forward into the room and heard the door gently close, looking out the window he saw the android talk to the nurses on duty casually. They were glancing over at the closed door with knowing smiles, “Looks like I’ve been a topic of conversation,” John sighed. Looking back over at your sleeping form John shuffled over and sat in the chair by your bedside. He bit his lip when he saw your prosthetic arm draped over your stomach; taking the hand closest to him John gave it a gentle squeeze, “I am so sorry,” he whispered rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I have been the worst friend on the entire planet and you should honestly kick my ass,” 

“You’re right, I should kick your ass,” your voice made him jump; looking down he saw that you were giving him a glare. “I’m too tired to kick your ass or even to yell at you,” you said eyes dull and sad. It made Kennex’s stomach clench, “(Y/N) I deserve whatever you decide to do to me, I just-” he cut himself off looking anywhere but your eyes. John gritted his teeth as you waited for what he had to say, “I was afraid.” he whispered finally looking back at you. Sighing you sat up so he knew he had your undivided attention. John cleared his throat, “I was afraid that coming to see you would make it all real, and it-it brought back some things that I didn’t want back. So I ran-metaphorically,” your eyes softened understanding his reasons, “I’m still mad but I forgive you,” you said after a minute. John’s shoulders sagged with relief, his head dropping to the bed by your thigh. “You’re important to me John, I just wish I was important enough to you so you could talk to me,” you whispered sadly running a hand through his hair. Your hand dropped when he snapped his head up, “You’re important to me (Y/N) I just-I’m shit when it comes to-” he gestured wildly, “all of this,” 

You laughed quietly, “I promise to never disappear on you again. Expect me to be annoying now, cause I’ll be hovering,” John said with a crooked smile. The smile you gave him in return made his heart skip a beat, “you’re going to be insufferable, I just know it,” you chuckled ruefully. John winked, “of course, I wouldn’t be me if I made things easy,” he squeezed your hand again. “John, can you do something for me?” you asked biting your lip. He perked up, “anything,” he said and you shivered. “Can you get me another blanket? It’s fucking freezing in here,” John was out the door and at the nurse’s station before you could blink. “Oh boy,” you laughed nervously as you watched the man take the offered blanket and rush back to your door. 

To be continued…? 

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@spenceneedsahug

[darkromanceblackburn]

Chromeskull x The Collector- Mutual Destruction

Alright, I don’t know what I just did, but I had to get this out of my system.

Warning: Very NSFW, also if you are uncomfortable with manxman, don’t read.

Pairing: Chromeskull x The Collector; Jesse Cromeans x The Collector

They say that friends are always there in times of need and loneliness. There are so many types of friends out there, some with whom to drink, some who you cry your shoulder on and the list goes on.

Asa didn't have any friends, wasn't exactly your usual butterfly of society, but more like the lonely tarantula that you are afraid to get near. Asas' day to day life was a mystery to most people, he was always absorbed into work at the university with his hobby of collecting all types of insects.

Still, a few knew that Asa indeed has a friend with which he sometimes spends his free time. Jesse was the complete opposite of Asa; confident, smug, a complete tease and pretty boastful.

The only similarity between these two men was that they both had sadistic tendencies of murdering people in the most gruesome ways. Of course, none knew that.

Both were pretty much collectors; the one collecting human beings and transforming them in either insect shaped masterpieces or transformed them into feral animals; the other one collecting videotapes of his disturbing murders.

They were what one could call frenemies, one moment they talked over a coffee drink, then next they were at each other's throats. They on basic occasions would kill together. No, they were not a partner in crimes, but more like they wanted to see how the other kills and moves into action.

Tonight it has been productive, Jesse killed two women after chasing them down a deserted road, video-taping all the action and Asa took the remains to the hotel where his collection was, adding the gutted pieces to his collection, shaping both women into beautiful morbid masterpieces, all the while Jesse observed.

After they were done, Jesse decided to go back to his place for a drink with Asa. Parking the custom Bentley into the driveway they both entered the mansion. They didn't bother to get out of their murdering gear and masks. It was like their second layer of skin, especially at night.

Jesse went to the kitchen pouring two glasses of whiskey and handing Asa one of them. Pulling his skull mask off so he could drink, Jesse sometimes cursed himself that his mask didn't have a mouth-hole like Asas' foam one.

'I must say, you have quite the collection, although your decor is boring.' Jesse signed, making Asa pull his mouth in a snarl. Again with the teasing?

"Talk to yourself. You needed two hours to chase the two?" Asa replied with venom. Sometimes he hated this man so much, he wanted to strangle him to death.

'It's called fun of the chase, grandpa.' Jesse signed, rolling his brown eye as he took a sip of the strong liquor.

"I hate you." Asa growled and then Jesses' face change from the usual teasing smirk to a deep frown.

'You do? Then why are you wasting your time with me?' Jesse signed, putting the glass down and taking steps towards Asa who frowned into confusion.

Yes, he hated Jesse....when he was teasing and mocking him; trying to assert his dominance over Asa. It was that kind of fight between alpha males, who was the strongest. It was natural.

Now Asa didn't know what to say. It was so unusual for Asa Emory not to be left speechless.

Jesse was standing in front of Asa, looking down at him with a hard gaze. Jesse was much taller than Asa, but Asa compensated his lack of height towards the bald man with his thickness.

Before he knew it, Asa was pulled by the back of his head towards Jesse,  pulling the obsidian eyed male into a bruising kiss. His black eyes widened as he felt Jesses' lips on his own.

Jesse was the first to pull away, leaving a breathless Asa to look at him with wide eyes.

'Sorry. I didn't mean it...It was a mistake.' Jesse signed, looking down.

Asa was left with a tornado in his head. He felt something in his chest, a feeling so unknown. He didn't like the kiss. He was no fucking homosexual!

Still, as he looked at Jesse, he couldn't deny that the man was attractive, tall, broad with pale skin that was decorated with tattoos. Even his scarred face was intriguing him.

Plus, Jesse was the only one who understood him. They had so many in common, especially hobbies.

Asa reminded himself that he didn't like men, he was no homosexual. Period.....but....for Jesse? Fuck, he could go all the way up.

Jesse was ready to leave Asa, when the smaller male pulled Jesse by his tie, pushing him into a feverish kiss that surprised the bald man.

Both of their eyes closed as they kissed each other, tongue dancing together in passion. Jesse snaked his arms around Asas' waist.

Asa grasped Jesse by his black dress shirt, pulling him closer, moaning into each other's mouth. They ground their hips together, flush against each other, feeling the other's arousal through their pants.

Jesse moved his hands from Asas' body and began to unzip his black slacks, freeing his hard length for the dark-eyed man to see.

Asa licked his lower lip instinctively as he saw what Jesse packed. He never felt aroused by seeing another man dick, but finding out that Jesse got so hard because of him, made something stir in Asa.

Jesse worked on Asas' pants too, brown eye looking deeply into black ones, as his length was finally free.

Pulling Asas' hips flush against his, Jesse grasped both of their cocks in one hand that was still covered by black nitrile gloves. Then he began, rubbing their lengths up and down, making Asa groan and thrust his hips into the other man's movements.

The precum from both tips smeared together over their cocks that began to glister in the faith light that was coming from the backyard, basking them into an eerie glow.

Jesse pulled out his phone from the pocket of his slacks with the freehand. It was kind of hard to sign with just one hand.

'Are you sure you wanna do this?' the robotic voice from the phone spoke.

Asa looked at Jesse with half-lidded eyes, then down at their cocks, bulbous head rubbing together with each move. Is this really what he wanted? With a man? No. It was Jesse, it was so much more. Asa looked back up at Jesse who had his mouth slightly open in silent moans. Asa only nodded and Jesses' brown eye lightened up in joy.

'Is this your first time?' the voice spoke from the phone, making Asa blush, thank God he still had the mask on. Jesse gave a silent chuckle in his chest.

'Mine too.'

So they were both virgins in this department. Oh God. Jesse pulled Asa into a sensual kiss, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth, making the man groan and thrust his hips into his.

'I want you to do me first.'

With that Jesse let go of both their length, tugging on shoes and slacks, just unbuttoning his dress shirt, leaving it open and on him. Asa was a little nervous when Jesse bend over the kitchen counter. He never did something like this. Fucking women was one thing.

Still, he couldn't help for his length not to twitch when he saw Jesse spread his long legs and see his ass in full view. No time to chicken out. The good part was that Asas' length was still slick with their precum.

Moving behind Jesse, he spread his buttcheeks, finding his backdoor, then he rubbed the slick head of his cock on the outside of Jesses' hole, making the man tense.

It was funny to see two confident and dangerous killers get so shy and nervous all of a sudden. Asa pushed the head inside, making Jesse arch his back and groan silently in the back of his throat.

Pushing inch by inch slowly, Asa was hilted inside the other man. He never knew that something like this could feel so good. Much tighter than a woman's.

Jesse, on the other hand, was beginning to thrust his ass back against Asa, because God, he loved the feeling of being so full, the head of Asas' cock kissing his prostate.

"Want me to move?" Asa asked with ragged breath and Jesse only nodded. Giving one thrust, both were left with mouth hanging open, the second thrust, then third, only to end up in a quick and deep pace.

Asas balls slapped back against Jesses' as said man was gripping the kitchen counter in a deadly grip until knuckles turned white.

Asa would feel himself closing it and was ready to pull out when Jesse shook his head. What? Inside? Really? Before Asa could argue he could feel Jesses' inside tightening trapping him in and that's when he comes undone, filling Jesse up with hot cum.

They stayed connected for a minute to catch their breath, until Asa pulled out, cock slick with his cum. Jesse turned around and pulled Asa in a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing.

'Your turn. On your hands and knees.' the robotic voice hit Asas' ears and he couldn't even argue, his knees touching the cold tiles then came his hands, on all fours.

Before he could ask what Jesse had in mind he came face to face with Jesses' cock. Obsidian eyes looked up at the smirking man.

'Wet it up. I don't wanna hurt you, sweetcheeks.'

Asa could feel his face heat up, opening his mouth and taking Jesses' length in, swirling his tongue around his shaft, eyes locked on the man above.

After wetting it up, Jesse pulled away, moving behind the smaller male, taking in his form.

Jesse had to admit that Asa got a nice ass, so much more beautiful than any woman he ever saw. Getting on his knees behind Asa, he pulled his buttcheeks apart, finding what he was looking for.

Asa was prepared to feel pain and something big, but only for his eyes to widen as he felt something wet and small. Jesse was eating him out! Asa groaned as he felt the man behind him thrust his tongue into his ass, wriggling it.

Asa had observed from their previous kisses that Jesse got a long tongue, and now he was glad for it because it felt so delicious, so hot and he couldn't help but grind his ass into Jesses' mouth, who smirked in pride.

Pulling away with a strong of saliva connecting his mouth with Asas ass, he grasped his throbbing length, giving a few pumps, then pushing the head inside, slowly sliding all the girth to the hilt.

Asa was gasping as his eyes widened at how full he felt, his length twitching as he felt Jesses cock so deep in him.

'Are you fine?' the robotic voice spoke.

"Y-Yeah...Y-You're just too big." Asa gasped, groaning. Jesse grinned with prideful masculinity, grinding his hips into Asas' buttcheeks, making the man on the bottom fist his hands.

'Know I am, lover.'

With that Jesse pulled out, thrusting back in, then repeated the action, grasping Asas's hips tight so he won't even be able to get away.

The sound of sweaty skin slapping against skin sinfully echoed in the empty mansion, the two killers on the kitchen floor fucking like animals, like they just came out of an erotic movie.

Jesse felt Asas' cum dripping from his ass, running between his legs, coating his balls.

If anyone would have told a week ago to Asa that he will end up fucking and fucked by his best friend and probably only friend he would have added you to his collection. Now? He was thrusting his ass back against Jesse, who picked up his pace. Asa didn't know that having another mans cock inside his ass could feel so good, his own length twitching as he was coming closer to his climax.

"Nghh...C-Close." Asa muttered as he let out a growl as Jesse repeatedly hit his prostate. Jesse gave a firm nod, slapping Asa on one of his buttcheeks, then he came, hot spurts of cum hitting the obsidians man's insides as he reached his peak too, finishing off on the white tiles of the kitchen floor.

The room was silent leave for the harsh breathing that came from the two men.

"Ngh...J-Jesse...You can pull out." Asa groaned, Jesses sweaty front leaning on Asas' back.

'Nah...I like to stay inside you.'

Before Asa could give a smart remark, he was slipped over, facing Jesse who was still rested nice and sticky inside him. Jesse smirked down at Asa, getting up with Asas' legs wrapped around his waist, the bald man's hands rested on the juicy buttcheeks of his partner. Sometimes Asa forgot how powerful Jesse is.

Jesse walked with Asa to his master bedroom, laying both of them down on the king-sized bed, brown eyes looking into black ones.

'I loved it.' Jesse signed, making Asa nod in agreement. There was a faint silence until someone decided to break it.

"I love you."

Jesse looked back at Asa with a wide brown eye, like he might don't heard right.

It was the first time Asa said these words to someone; he just felt like it and he couldn't deny that he had something special deep within him for the other man.

"Yes, you heard that right. Don't make me say it again." Asa muttered with a frown.

Jesse pulled out his pinky finger, showing it to Asa, who looked at Jesse in confusion.

'Promise?'

"You are so childish sometimes." Asa groaned out.

'Promise?'

Asa looked at Jesse who had a serious look in his eye. Letting out a defeating sigh, he pulled on Jesses pinky finger with one of his own.

"Promise."

With that, they pulled one another into a passionate kiss, full of promises and more interesting things to come.

[sunspill]

1, Clexa AU. 2, Dog AU (where they're both dogs/puppies.)

under the cut

Anya finds the dog by the side of the road. The backroad she takes for the explicit purpose of minimizing contact with other people and getting to work on time, and now she’s pulled over with her hazards on, cursing as she tries to distract the snarling dog with peanut butter cookies she had in the trunk while she tries to cut away the tangle of vines trapping its hind legs.

“Don’t fucking bite me,” she hisses, yanking her arm back just in time. “Eat your fucking cookies.”

By the time she’s cut away enough of the vine the dog is free, it seems to have accepted her as an ally. In fact, it licks at her fingers in search of more peanut butter, then glares when Anya doesn’t immediately produce another cookie. “Yeah,” Anya mutters, getting to her feet and dusting off her pants. “You’re welcome. Just late to work, ruined my jacket, no big deal.”

She walks back to her car, fishing her keys out of her pocket and unlocking the doors with a beep. She’s got the door open and her foot half inside the car when she realizes there’s an expectant furry face at her knee. She stops. “Go,” she says, flapping a hand at it. “Shoo.”

The dog chuffs. Its nose twitches, and, sensing the remnants of peanut butter, gathers its hind legs in preparations for a leap. “No!” Anya yelps, but the dog has already jumped, scrabbling on her seats as it wiggles into the backseat.

Anya leans in, pointing a stern finger. “No. Bad dog. Out! Go home.”

The dog looks straight at her, then yawns, exposing its fangs and lolling tongue.

“I could have left you,” Anya tells it. “You’re just lucky the roadwork slowed traffic down. Now shoo.”

Maintaining full eye contact, the dog leans down and rips a mouthful of foam out of Anya’s backseat. It shreds the upholstery between his teeth and swallows, then curls up with a content sigh, nose on muddy paws.

“I hate you,” Anya says.

++

Anya walks into the vet’s office. “I need a leash,” she says to the first person she meets. “Dr… Reyes.” She pauses. “Dog leash,” she amends. “Also, a collar.”

“I am… concerned,” Dr. Reyes says, reaching under the counter and sliding the requested items over to Anya’s waiting hands.

“Stand by,” Anya says, and goes out to the car. Ten minutes of cursing and a ripped sleeve later, she’s hauling the dog in with two hands, one around the collar and one gripping its scruff.

“Jesus Christ,” Dr. Reyes says, and ushers them quickly into an exam room.

“Healthy,” she declares, fifteen tense moments later. “Also, may not be a dog.”

“What?” Anya doubletakes. She peers at the dog. “It’s definitely not a cat.”

“She,” Dr. Reyes emphasizes, “looks to be at least one quarter coyote.”

The dog(?) yawns again.

“One half coyote,” Dr. Reyes amends. “I’m legally obligated to inform you that you cannot own a coyote dog hybrid.”

“Are you legally obligated to inform any agencies that I brought her in?”

Dr. Reyes sighs. “You live with any other pets? Small kids?”

“No.”

“Got a yard?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Reyes passes over a clipboard. “Do not go to dog parks. Do call any of these--” she produces a few pamphlets “private dog trainers.”

Anya frowns at the forms. “Any ideas for dog names?”

“Princess,” Dr. Reyes says, dry.

“I found her on Alexandria Road,” Anya offers, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Road is a good name.”

“Oh my god,” Dr. Reyes says, snatching the clipboard back and clicking a pen. “Lexa. One syllable, sounds tough. Now go pay way too much to the receptionist while I take your illegal canine to the back for her shots.”

++

Lexa likes to sleep tucked up against Anya’s side, heavy head on Anya’s hip. Then she turns sideways until Anya wakes up in the middle of the fucking night half pushed off her own fucking mattress. She likes to aggressively chase squirrels around Anya’s yard, rip up the neighbor’s flowerbeds while Anya is trying to sneak a late night cigarette during Lexa’s last pee break before bed, and dig holes down to the foundation that require multiple trips to the hardware store for potting soil to fill in.

She’s a good jogging partner, Anya thinks. And it’s funny to see how her eyes glint in the porchlight and her nose wrinkles up when she scares the shit out of delivery men. She keeps waiting to wake up to a ravaged throat or some such nonsense, but Lexa seems to favour sleeping in sunbeams and destroying every single toy Anya buys her in fifteen minutes or less, no matter how indestructible the label claims it is.

++

Anya wakes up to a cold nose in her ear. She cracks open an eye, fumbling at her nightstand for her phone to check the time. “Fuck off,” she groans at Lexa. “You know I’ve got another half hour.”

Lexa yips, right in Anya’s ear. Her teeth gently close around Anya’s wrist and tug.

“Fine,” Anya snaps, flinging back her blanket. “God, you’re a lotta work.”

Lexa leaps from the bed, landing lightly on the floor, and starts scratching at the bedroom door. “Quit it!!” Anya says, slapping at her snout with two fingers. “I’m going, Christ.”

She hauls open the back door and Lexa is out like a shot. Anya yawns, propping an arm up on the doorjam and shivering in the early morning chill. Then she hears a bark in her yard. She blinks. Lexa doesn’t bark. She’s never barked. She growls, she yips, sometimes she howls along with sirens and at her food barrel when Anya is late feeding her. Anya steps out onto the porch, the wood cold on her bare feet.

Lexa yips at her, standing near the big tree in the corner. She darts forward, tail high waving and the hair standing up in a long ridge down her bag, and then back to the tree. There’s another weak bark from behind its trunk.

“Fuck,” Anya mutters, and starts into her lawn, barefoot and shivering. She peers behind the tree, Lexa’s paws scratching in the dirt at her side. There’s another hole under the fence, hidden where Lexa had dug it and Anya hadn’t noticed. “Bitch,” Anya tells her. Lexa yawns.

And in the hole, crawled half under the fence and stuck, is another dog, matted fur and bloody from the wooden fence, still wriggling for freedom. It makes a sad whine.

“Jesus,” Anya sighs, and starts to kick the slats out from the fence. It makes the dog yelp in pain, flail in panic. Lexa licks its nose, gives Anya a glare. “Don’t look at me like that,” Anya grunts, kicking away. “You’re the one with a boyfriend trying to break into your yard.”

She picks up the dog, staggering under its weight. “A girlfriend,” she says, shoving it into the backseat. Lexa hops up beside the new dog, resting her nose on the dog’s neck and licking at her ear.

++

“Oh no,” Dr. Reyes says, when she sees Anya come in hefting a muddied mess of a dog, Lexa trotting offleash at her side. “Tell me your coyote didn’t ravage a seeing eye dog.”

Anya follows her into an exam room and deposits the dog on the raised table with a grunt. “No. I think they’re friends.” The dog’s head lolling off the table, moves around like it’s searching for Lexa, who rises up on her hind legs to nose comfortingly at the dog’s face.

“Aw,” Dr. Reyes says. “True love.”

A power scrub, a haircut, and three stitches later and Anya’s got an anxious coyote dancing around her feet while Raven leads out a very good looking retriever from the back. “A good girl,” Raven pronounces her. “And no chip. I’ll take her to the pound after my shift.”

“Princess is still a good name,” Anya offers, and it makes Dr. Reyes laugh.

Lexa closes her teeth around Dr. Reyes’s white labcoat pocket and rips it clean off, then carries it into the corner to victioursly chow down on the treats within. “She remembers,” Dr. Reyes says dryly. “Go fork over your credit card, I might as well give her a check up while you’re here.”

++

Lexa sighs, really big, and flops over onto her side to check if Anya can see her being completely bereft, her milkbone ignored to the side.

“I’m ignoring you,” Anya says, licking her spoon clean and setting her plate aside.

Lexa roos, low and soft and guttural.

Anya turns the television up.

Anya lifts up the blanket, pats the mattress beside her. “C’mon, you little trash racoon. You can even have the pillow.”

Lexa, curled into a performatively miserable ball, sighs heavily and makes big sad eyes, her tail tucked under her.

++

“Hi,” Anya says, at the pound. “I’m interested in…” she checks her phone. “Clarke.”

++

“Anyway I get a two for one discount?” she asks Dr. Reyes later.

“No,” Dr. Reyes says, ripping a copy of Anya’s bill off the clipboard.

“Anyway I can get your number?”

Dr. Reyes snorts. “If it’ll stop you from adopting feral animals as an excuse to visit me.”

++

Anya drags another food barrel in to sit on the kitchen tiles. Lexa is chasing Clarke around the backyard, her yips interspersed with Clarke’s happy barks. She buys two dog beds, but they only ever end up using one.

[shootingstarcipher-blog]

[Prologue] Killer

The first chapter of my first Eerie Indiana fic: The Stray.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856626/chapters/29361150

Just like the specks of blood buried underneath his fingernails, a boy with no name found himself in a scenario from which he had no hope of escaping. He should have been used to it by now – and he would have been, had he any memories of his earlier life. But as he lay there, half-covered in dust on the rough, painful wooden floor of the Old Mill, his memories were more than just murky; they were totally and utterly inaccessible to his consciousness, assuming they were at all. He had no proof that they did exist though they must have done, as he must have come from somewhere – everybody did – and it became his ambition then to discover them, nothing but the haunted walls of the derelict Old Mill as his witnesses.

He declared his intentions out loud, even while knowing there was nobody around to hear him. His voice surprised even himself, sounding gruffer and slightly more aggressive than he’d meant it to. But then he smirked to himself, realising that if it was such a surprise to him, he could probably cause any other person to suffer a cardiac arrest with just one word if he tried hard enough. Of course, he’d never go through with that, but there was nothing unappealing about having the option.

With no regard whatsoever to hygiene, he nibbled away the dried blood that had somehow gotten trapped beneath his fingernails, gnawing incessantly until there was no proof any blood had ever touched him. It wasn’t his own (he had no wounds as far as he could tell and aside from that, it wouldn’t have wound up where it did if it had been his own). Its metallic taste was oddly enticing and it was only then that he became aware of his own hunger and he had to stifle a growl, determined eyes automatically searching in the dark for anything even remotely edible to satisfy his need.

Wiping dust from his long, almost floor-length black jacket, he skulked towards the tiny sliver of dim light creeping in from under the door and, making sure to keep to the shadows, he headed out into the sunset with hunger on his mind. He wondered when he’d last eaten and, for that matter, how long he’d been unconscious in the Old Mill.

All that stood between himself and his thoughts were the echoes of his footsteps as they resonated against the frosty concrete below, his black boots doing barely anything to shield him from the harsh bitterness of the outside. The tips of his fingers were numb but not yet at the point of turning blue and so he rubbed his hands together, slipping his hands up inside his sleeves in the process in search of warmth.

A puddle of dull, cloudy rainwater soon caught his attention when he accidentally stepped in it, the freezing cold water flooding his left boot immediately, but a quick glance down made him stop for a moment and forget about the cold entirely. The dirty, pale, bleak looking boy staring back at his unrecognisable. Yet it must have been him. This was his reflection, and it looked nothing like he’d expected it to – not that he’d had any idea of what he looked like beforehand.

His most obvious abnormality was his wispy despondent grey hair that seemed, at least to him, to be the perfect image of melancholy. From where he stood, staring down at the water despairingly, the colour of his narrowed, devious-looking eyes remained a mystery but they appeared hollow and dead, holding barely a spark of emotion within them. Then, with his thin lips pulled into a smirk, he glanced down at his hands, each of which had been marked with a symbol – a plus sign on his right and a minus sign on his left… or an X on his right and a dash on his left, depending on his perspective.

Ignoring the cold as it spread up to his ankle, he turned his back on his reflection as he splashed his way through the puddle of rainwater and prowled along, sticking close to the wall beside him as he wandered not so aimlessly down a chain of shady-looking streets and alleyways until – after what could have very well been nearly an hour – the low, defensive growl of a feral... something, a dog or a fox, surely, struck him as intriguing. If nothing else, he could at least catch the animal for food. It was at that moment that he realised he would have killed to survive – maybe not a person, maybe not right then, but an innocent animal wasn’t about to get in his way of finding food.

A stealthy silhouette crossed his path and he stopped dead, eyes locked onto it. It remained sneaky, silent, clandestine. But so did he.

Taking a defensive stance – and in that way mirroring the beast before him – he crouched low to the ground, staring right into the animal’s almost luminous yellowish eyes. He squinted slightly, trying to get a better look at it, and then it became apparent that it was no sort of animal he’d seen before. The size of a fox, but more feline than dog-like in its appearance. The aggressive sounds bubbling from its throat, however, were far more like the carnal snarls of a wolf than the helpless mewls of a lost wandering cat.

Whatever it was, it was either going to lead him to his meal, or become it.

Seeming to sense his hostility, the creature let out another threatening growl, blinked at him, and then sprung out of sight momentarily before reappearing on top of the red-bricked wall beside him, glaring down at him defensively. The boy without a name glared back, straightening his back up and staring up at the strange animal defiantly. A silent demand for food. As if understanding his plea, it trotted along the wall with all the grace and elegance of a tigress but the aura of arrogance of some megalomaniacal dictator. A smirk appeared on the grey-haired boy’s face. This was the kind of creature he could get along with.

Until it dove feet-first into the massive rubbish bin below, dagger-like talons poised for attack and then clinging onto the very first edible thing it could find – in a way, doing the boy’s work for him – and refusing to give it up, insisting that the half-eaten cheeseburger belonged to it and it alone. Driven on by his hunger, he found himself swiping frantically at the feral creature in a heartbeat, very nearly foaming at the mouth with desperation. During a short but feverish fight, he sustained several minor scratches and a larger, deeper gash across his forehead, but he considered it worth it for the bite of the burger he managed to get (though the animal limped away with most of the burger still in its possession, having eaten some of it already).

He watched it sneak away without a sound, still chewing the small bite of the burger he’d managed to get hold of, and contemplated the strange animal as he knelt there in the rubbish bin, surrounded by the filth he was realising was vital for his survival.

Its dark, reddish fur stuck up in tufts and had clearly in some places fallen out in chunks, exposing its scarred pink skin underneath which it wore like a delicate battle wound that, despite its pain and ugliness, held with it pride and achievement. Like it had fought off more grey-haired weirdos than anyone could count. And it probably had. Those yellowed, jagged teeth and razor-sharp claws could have fought off any number of starving strays, human or otherwise.

So, as he watched it slink away he was filled with a feeling of awe, but also ambition – a determination that next time, he wouldn’t lose.

Hunting around for more food, because that single bite wasn’t able to satisfy his starvation, the boy whose name was forgotten found only a minimal number of scraps, the edibility of which was beyond questionable, but wolfed them all down anyway regardless of flavour or hygiene. Survival was more important. And, in the name of survival, he swallowed down the last remaining mouthfuls of cold, contaminated coffee from a plastic cup he found on the cracked concrete of the entrance to the alley, and with the empty cup scooped up as much of the puddle as he could on his way back to the Old Mill – a place which, given that it was the only place he now knew, was swiftly becoming his home.

Home. What an alien concept. Home didn’t exist, really, for anyone, so he disregarded the idea that he must have had one entirely, even if anyone else would have argued otherwise. He didn’t have anyone else. There was only him – and occasionally, an animal that was neither cat nor dog, but was most certainly just as much a stray as he was. He was fine with that. He hadn’t met any since losing his memories, but every instinct in his body told him that humans were nothing more than an inconvenience. He could rely on himself and no-one else.

Kindness of strangers? No such thing.

He shouldn’t have been so tired but – whether it was the dark, the cold, or his relentless hunger – the walk back left him exhausted and he collapsed onto the floor almost the second he crept through the door. And yet sleep was so far out of reach.

Curled up in a corner, cup of water by his side in case the burning ache at the back of his head needed pushing away, he found his gaze fixating itself on his hands again – more specifically, the marks on them. Were they drawn on? He didn’t think so. Was he born with them? That didn’t seem likely either. Pretty strange birthmarks, if that was what they were. A plus and a minus. A dash and an X. Dash X. That’s what he’d call himself, at least until he learned his real name – he must have had one, after all. Besides, it was a much better name than Plus Minus.

Then again, did strays bother with names?