#i will bite and claw and kick and scream my way there no matter how much i seem to be shoved down by the world.

[adainesfroggieboggy]

in my “my dreams are real and tangible. i can make them realer.” era. working hard because i want to, working towards a goal i can see and feel and hold in my hands. all my stumbles and all my setbacks? roadblocks. i can find another route. i can get there. i will be ok.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two , Part three

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 

Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 

 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 

"Mine," you repeat. 

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT ⚠️

SUBJUGATORS 💦 NARUMI X F! READER X HOSHINA ＫINKTOBER DAY 16: CNC ⚠️

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. i would give my left foot for cnc with hoshina or narumi for your kinktober 🤩 🐙 a/n: I READ HOSHINA AND NARUMI instead of OR. So yeah, I'M SORRY, i guess my subconscious won hahaha. Anyway I hope you enjoy it the same!!! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. HARD KINK: consented non con. please, do not read if it's triggering or not your cup of tea. I understand it is a very polemic kink, but not in a million years I'd say it's hot to get raped. This is just pre consented by three totally conscious adults that enjoy roleplay (it is explicitly stated at the very end, and with little hints all throughout the fic). cnc, kinda humilliation, dp implied. oral. vag. kinda fear wetting (piss). 🐙 wc: 1.2k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Slam! Your body gets smashed against the wall. A pair of hands crawl everywhere; your flesh getting squeezed, your head being pushed and pinned against hard cement. 

“Wandering all by yourself, love?” a raspy voice whispers into your ear; you can tell there are hints of laziness in it, but most definitely desire as well. 

You try to let go, using all your strength to free yourself. Fighting to escape, you push that man that came out of the darkness, away. 

“Oops, where are you going?” another voice, that also came out of nowhere, exclaims. You are stopped by a strong hand crushing your wrist. 

Immediately after; those first hands trap you again. You are surrounded by two men who somehow start fighting in between them.

“You let her go… are you becoming weak Nar-?” one of them, with slanted -pretty much closed- eyes, tease the other one. 

“You shitty bowl cut bitch” the other one, with black and grey tufts, grunts.

Yet, despite their bickering you are unable to run away as both are extremely strong. No matter how much you squirm, kick or move, you can’t escape from their claws… 

“Let me go!” you scream, getting muffled almost immediately but the bowl cut guy with his hand on your mouth. 

“Shh, babe… you are not allowed to scream” he says, opening his eyes to burn holes into yours, a purple aura as strong as his grip… beautiful irises for such a devilishly man. 

“He is right, love… we wouldn’t want the rest to hear you while we use your wholes, nobody will come to rescue you either…” the other man murmurs in your ear from behind, biting your lobe right after. His accelerated breathing shows how hard is getting by simply grabbing your trembling body. 

You, in fact, shiver. Frightened; this Halloween party shouldn’t have ended this way… you should have listened to your friends, Soshiro and Narumi, when they told you to wait for them.

“Aren’t you a little slut? What are you? a witch? A demon? Wearing that short little skirt for us? Mh?” the bowl cut guy asks, sliding his hand underneath your -indeed pretty short- skirt. 

You can’t help but smirk a little, soon remembering the situation you are actually in… “Stop! Let me go!” you cry, earning a soft slap on your mouth to shush you. 

Not only do your lips become a little swollen from that raspier voiced man’s slap, but they also suddenly drag you to a very -conveniently placed- abandoned warehouse from the base. 

Old mattresses scattered on the floor; pieces of beds and old furniture from the base rooms are also abandoned. Tachikawa is a pretty big facility, there must be a lot of these warehouses around… 

The slanted eyed man snatches your body from his partner in crime and pushes you against one of the mattresses. You fall with your back, showing your little white laced panties to them… what a great choice for Halloween night. 

“Look at this slut, already showing us her wet cunt” he spits, elbowing the grey- and black-haired man, showing a smirk with a pair of prominent fangs… he looks like a feral fox… 

Both smirk to each other, and for a second they might forget how much of a deadly enemy they consider themselves to be. 

The first to attack, seems to be the faster of them two; a feral fox that’s also quick in their movements. His hands, rather small and delicate but definitely strong, rip your upper part… goodbye to that beautiful costume you spent hours preparing for tonight. 

His fangs seem hungry for your breasts, for your neck, for your flesh. And so, while pinning you -as if your fighting meant nothing- he attacks. His fangs carve marks everywhere they bite, leaving painful reminders of his dominance, of the crime of using your body against your desires.

“Ah ah… come on, I want a piece of her too” the other one grunts, this time a lot calmer and somehow lazy… but still so filled with lust. 

The “feral fox” allows him to join. He stands up and pinches your cheeks before doing anything else to communicate their intentions -as if they weren’t clear from the very start- “On all fours, let’s keep that mouth occupied while you get your pussy r*ped” 

You gasp as you are forced to turn and stand on all fours; your inner thighs tremble, your lower belly spasm… “no… please…” you cry, fighting the hands on your back that try to at least move your panties to the side.

“Calm the fuck down, bitch… you want it or not, I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt anyways” 

A few spanks on your ass leave your skin burning, and for the moments you become still from the pain the black and grey hair man is able to finally slide a couple of fingers into your entrance. 

You try to turn around to see him; to perhaps try and push him away, or maybe just maybe to enjoy the lustful look in those tired eyes… But you are actually unable to do so, as the prominent fangs boy grab your neck and mandible to force your mouth to open.

“Open big for me, ok? Let's use that beautiful mouth of you” he growls, using his index to lower your tongue and make you gag before replacing it with his hard, drippy, throbbing sex. 

You, in fact, gag and cough. He goes in and out, fucking your mouth with no mercy and a smile that could belong to the Devil himself. 

“Come on… deep” he purrs, going even deeper, watching you beg for air, watching tears roll down your cheek from how much he is forcing his tip onto your uvula. 

You fix your pleading, desperate eyes on his… barely sounds escape your throat while being used. You are trembling in pure terror, but even more when you can feel a warm tip getting dangerously close to your folds. 

“Heh, absolutely wet and still crying? Stop acting as if you didn’t like this, slut” that lazy voice that comes from behind, scolds you, before even sliding in. 

And when he does, he does with such strong thrust you are sure you could have pissed yourself a little bit… degrading yourself, by having your throat completely ruined by an impetuous dick going in and out of you, by getting your legs and sneakers wet in urine and arousal, and by getting your sex penetrated against your will… really against? 

“Ah, look at that… you disgusting whore, you can’t even hold it in when someone is using your cunt? Heh” he continues, going in and out even harder and faster. This time you can totally sense the complicity in between your two victimizers… 

Victimizers that have stopped fighting to coordinate the rams on both of your sides. One on your mouth, the other on your sex… what a mess, you are just a mess. 

“Narumi, move, it’s my turn” the foxy looking one says as he takes his dick out of your mouth. 

You cough, trying to clean the saliva on the commissures of your mouth and the taste of precum flooding your throat.

“YOU IDIOT” Narumi grunts, he has just revealed his name. 

“I can’t keep playing, let me fuck you (Name), please…” Soshiro suddenly says, the three of you have already lost your roles as lust and climaxing begins to kick in.

“Why don’t you fuck me at the same time?”  “These games of yours, (Name)… aren’t you a little bit of a perv?”  “It’s you two who are forcing me, aren’t you?” “Yes my queen…” “Yep, my lady” 

Oh, and by the way, I am a zombie bride… not a demon, nor a witch! 

[gravehags]

feel you from the inside

Pairing: Dewdrop x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: ghoul in rut, knotting, primal play, rough P in V sex

Words: 2,636

Summary: He warned you about his rut. Tonight you get to find out why.

a/n: this is all @gehrmansbignaturals fault and i'm not responsible for the way my period/covid booster/awake since 2 am brain took over.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It starts with a text.

Edge of the woods, 8 PM. Wear sneakers.

Terse and to the point, no room for endearments or pleasantries. You’re almost hurt until it hits you like a freight train and you check your calendar. 

November 2 - Dew starts rut

Suddenly a warmth begins in your stomach and grows outwards, spreading through your limbs and creating a hot, throbbing sensation between your legs. You have no idea what he has planned, like, the woods? Sneakers? You had never been with him during his rut before but you imagined something a little more…romantic. Maybe involving some wine. He didn’t tell you much about it other than to mark it on your calendar because he would be…different. And that’s all he said on the matter so you didn’t press him, but your mind ran wild. Dewdrop was already a needy, desperate lover - your lovemaking with him often ending in scratch marks and hand-shaped bruises on your thighs - so you were baffled at how he could possibly get even more untamed. Would it be a blessing or a nightmare? You aren’t sure yet and to be honest you are far too eager to find out, so you send him an affirmative text with a couple x’s and o’s attached just to remind him how you feel. 

You continue going about your day at the Ministry and attending to your chores, but don’t feel a tell-tale buzz in your pocket again - responding to you or otherwise. Back in your quarters, you grab a loose pair of black joggers and an oversized flannel from your closet and begin to slip them on before a wicked thought runs through your mind. With a grin, you slide your underwear down your legs and kick them aside before reaching behind you to undo your bra. Now you’re ready to get dressed, and slip the comfortable pants and button down on your nude form. Your hands are shaking - out of fear or anticipation, you’re not sure - as you tie the laces of your sneakers and take a deep breath, readying yourself for what’s to come. You slip your phone into the pocket of your pants and head out to meet your ghoul lover to see what his ominous request - and his rut - entails. The walk out to the forest is nice, there is a definite bite in the air but the first snow hasn’t fallen yet so the umber colored leaves are still clinging to the trees. You shiver and pull your sleeves down over your hands, regretting not wearing a jacket or something. But, you thought excitedly, it would just be one more layer for Dewdrop to go through. If that is something he has in mind at all. You don’t see him right away in the dim light until you spot two glowing eyes behind a tree, watching you intently.

“Hey babe,” you call out with a little wave, “got the sneakers. You gonna tell me what’s up?”

When he steps out of the darkness and into the low light of the setting sun, you can’t help but gasp. He’s hunched in on himself, fists balled at his sides and he looks almost apprehensive to come anywhere near you. In the end he stops himself about six feet away from where you stand and takes a deep, shuddering breath before addressing you.

“Hey,” he rasps out, as if he’s been screaming all day. “Uh…thanks for coming. I–ugh.”

His back tenses and spine shifts as if he’s holding himself back and his face contorts in what you can only assume is pain. Concerned, you take a step towards him but upon seeing you move, he rapidly stumbles backwards.

“I know it’s your rut,” you say quietly, stuffing your hands in your pockets, “I put it on my calendar like you asked me to.”

He nods and runs a hand through his long, loose hair, claws sharp and extended. 

“Tell me what you need,” you say calmly, despite the riot of physical sensations reeling through you. Fear. Disquiet. Anticipation. Arousal.

You jump when he tips his head back and lets out a laugh, shutting his eyes and showing his fangs.

“What I need…” he says, flexing his hands and cracking his neck, “is for you to run.”

A beat passes.

“I’m…sorry?”

“I need you to take off running, as far into those woods as you can. And when I catch you - and I will catch you - I am going to fuck you. Hard. Fast. And I won’t stop until you’re stuffed full of my cum and can barely walk let alone run anymore. I will give you a five minute head start. Now, run.”

Your mind is a riot as you back away from him, watching something shift in his eyes as he grins. Heart pounding you see his breathing getting deeper, rougher and something animalistic opens within him. 

So you run.

You don’t look back and begin to sprint through the trees, dodging low hanging branches and leaping over fallen trunks. It’s much darker here with the cover of foliage and you’ve already lost your bearings. Still, you don’t stop, even as you feel your arousal dripping down the side of your leg and your heart thundering behind your ribs. Your sides burn but you continue to heed his request and go deeper, deeper into the woods. The pine needles crunch under your feet and finally you have to force yourself to take a break. You ache, in more ways than one. Never before had you considered how…thrilling something like this could be. You hear a branch crack and your eyes dart around you, looking for glowing eyes in the darkness. You’re not sure how much further you can get without bringing your cell phone out for light and you don’t want to make it that easy on him. Fear rockets through your veins, twitching and gasping at every rustle in the trees, every shift of what remains of the light. The sound of your heart pounding and your heaving breaths are loud - too loud - in your ears and it's distracting you from your surroundings. Having caught your breath, you begin to jog again, eyes struggling to find a path in the dark. Eventually you do give in and pull out your phone to switch on the flashlight. A mistake.

You’re so focused on where your next step is you don’t see the slight form of your lover, striking at you from the darkness. Your scream echoes through the woods, sends birds from the tall trees, when he tackles you to the ground. The breath is completely knocked from your lungs as he maneuvers you onto your back, the light from your upturned phone on the ground beside you shining up at him. His hair is wild, half in his face and his lips are turned into a vicious snarl, fangs shining. Roughly he pins your wrists above your head with a punishing grip before leaning down and sniffing deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he growls, situating himself in between your legs. “Fuck, baby you’re so fucking hot.”

When he grinds his - impressively hard - cock against your core you gasp and arch into his touch. He laughs a little hysterically when you buck into him again and tightens his grip around your wrists. His claws cut into your skin but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he says, leaning down once more to lick a hot, wet stripe up the side of your face to taste you. “Gonna really make you mine.”

“Dew,” you breathe as he steadily presses himself into your cunt over and over, “Dew, please. I want it. I want it so bad.”

He relinquishes his grip on your wrists with a growl and you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow but he’s backing away from you. You whimper, looking up at him as he sits back on his haunches and reaches down to either side of your shirt. With one swift motion he tears the shirt in two, sending buttons flying and ripping a gasp from you. When he sees that you’re braless, a filthy little smile curls his lips.

“You were already ready for me, huh? My good little whore.”

He wastes no time in latching himself onto your nipple, roughly tonguing it. When he nips at it with his teeth - harder than he’s ever done before - you cry out and slip your hand into his hair to pull at his scalp. When he does it again on your other nipple you slide another hand between the two of you to cup at his cock. Your fingers slide against the length of him and he bites - fangs digging into the plushness of your breast. You think he might have broken skin from the way his tongue slides over the spot but you don’t care.

“Do it again,” you breathe, fingers gripping at his roots, “please Dew, fuck.”

He bucks against your hand and chuckles, obliging you by marking your other breast. Tears form in your eyes but the arousal is greater than the pain, and he takes care of you so very well. 

“Filthy,” he purrs into your ear, “I didn’t know my girl liked it that rough.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say with a lazy grin, “‘Hard. Fast. Not stopping ‘til you’re filled with my cum.’ So do it Dewdrop. Make me yours.”

You’ve challenged him - always a dangerous thing to do but especially in this moment - and with a low growl he’s pulling back and ripping your pants down to your knees. He doesn’t comment on your lack of underwear, doesn’t need to when his face is contorted in pleasure as he drinks in your scent. He’s breathing heavily through his nose as he unbuttons and unzips his pants, taking his cock out into the chill air. You gasp when you see him - fuck you’ve never seen him that hard before - he’s red and it looks painful, precum slobbering down the side of him. 

“Fuck, Dew,” you say softly, reaching out to him, “I–”

He silences you by slamming his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, tongue forcing its way past your lips to plunder your mouth. His grip on your hair is a little too hard, teeth a little too sharp against you and you can tell he’s reached the end of his patience. His cock wetly rests between the two of you, Dew’s hips shifting minutely as he nips along your jaw.

“Said I was gonna fill you up,” Dew grunts into your ear, fingers fisting your locks, “and if that’s what you want it’s what you’re going to fucking get.”

In an instant, he pulls back and takes his cock in hand, positioning himself at your entrance. He’s still holding back, you can tell, so you speak.

“Dewdrop.”

He looks down at you, cheeks flushed looking on the verge of tears.

“Do it.”

The words are barely out of your mouth and he’s already slid inside you, bottoming out in a heartbeat. He hunches himself over you, like some kind of beast, and begins to aggressively fuck into you. His thrusts are not gentle, not tender and you don’t want it any other way. When you wrap your legs around his waist he practically howls, cock pumping in and out of you. The sounds coming from where the two of you are joined are obscene, and you buck your hips into him again and again. His hands have shifted to wrap around your thighs, claws once again biting into your pliant flesh. You can feel the scratch of the forest floor behind your head as he pounds into you, completely lost in the feeling of his rut. When you clench around him he practically folds you in half in his desire to get himself deeper, harder inside you.

“Mine,” he growls, “mine, mine, fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you choke out, breath continuously knocked from your lungs from the force of his thrusts, “only yours.”

Your response causes him to make a noise halfway between a sob and a hysterical laugh. He’s so deep inside you, hitting that beautiful spot every single time as you begin to see stars in your eyes. You can feel your climax roiling within you, clenching around him rhythmically, causing him to throw his head back and moan.

“I’m close, Dew,” you pant, reaching your hands out towards his face.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he spits, grabbing your hands and slamming them back above your head. Suddenly you feel a swelling within you and realize he’s…is he knotting you? Like an animal? The moan that rips from you as his cock is locked inside of you is loud enough to wake the dead. You’re so wonderfully, deliciously full and his hips rocket against yours, the swollen base of him brushing your clit with every movement.

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching to stroke your face, “take it. Such a good girl.”

When he slides his thumb into your mouth you dutifully wrap your lips around it and suck, tongue running along the ridges of the digit. Both of your moans are becoming more frequent, louder, higher and you can tell the two of you are close. 

“Fuck, baby,” he cries out, reaching down to rub at your clit. His calloused fingers know exactly how to work you and all of a sudden the light from your phone is creating a halo around his blonde head and your jaw hangs slack as your orgasm washes over you and you witness this divine creature. You’re still riding the wave of your own climax when all of a sudden he’s pulsing inside you, cum painting your inner walls - more than he’s ever released before. You’re so full of him you’re leaking, dripping down onto the dirt but he doesn’t pull out. With a heavy sigh, he collapses on top of you and you stroke at his messy hair, idly pulling the twigs out of it with a dazed smile. A moment passes before you can bring yourself to speak.

“Dew, I can’t breathe,” you murmur, always struck by how surprisingly heavy he is.

“Gimme a minute,” he breathes into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Don’t want to leave yet.”

“Leave the forest or my cunt?”

He chuckles so hard you can feel him shake above you.

“Fuck the forest. I wanna stay inside you forever.”

“How sweet. But I think there’s a rock that’s been digging into my back this whole time and I’m covered in pine needles. You’re covered in pine needles. C’mon babe. Up.”

When he finally does slip out of you with a low whine you’re staggered by the sudden loss you feel. You want him to stay inside you forever. But for now, you let him pull you to your feet and pull up your pants. Sheepishly, he attempts to adjust the torn remains of your shirt as you roll your eyes. Snagging your phone from the ground, you let him guide you out of the woods. The two of you walk in silence up to the well-lit abbey when you turn to him.

“Next time you have your rut–”

“What do you mean next time? Babe I’m still in it. You think I’m done with you?”

His hand reaches down to squeeze at the globe of your ass and he gives you a bright, vicious grin. Typical Dew. So you lean into it.

“Promise?” you purr, leaning in to hover your lips above his.

“You have no idea,” he breathes against you before kissing you soundly.

You’re still finding pine needles in his hair two days later. 

And he keeps his promise.

[mediocreanomaly]

Good Boy - Hybrid!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

Authors Note: Welcome to Wolfwood Wednesday 2: The Wolfoning (also known as Zero started a drabble thinking he could finish by yesterday and then he didn’t)  Anyways this is what happens when I read too much of @demxnscous post and I’m crediting you even though you said you didn’t need it because I got lot of inspiration from your post. (Also I hope you’re doing better :( sending good vibes ur way) 

You aren’t sure how you got in this situation or- no that was a lie you knew how you got here it was just hard to believe it was actually happening. It started the day your bleeding heart took in a stray. A mutt that looked more wolf than dog who was surprisingly eager to listen to you and what the hell, who doesn’t want scary dog privileges? That was until two months later you had came home from work to find a full grown man laying in your bed rather than your beloved pet. You had screamed until he jumped up startled, when you noticed a familiar set of pointed black ears and fluffy tail. It had been an adjustment to be sure to find they were one in the same and when he had hung his head low, ears drooping you couldn’t kick him out, you couldn’t because...he was still your Nico, right?

Then things got complicated. Nico still had a lot of his animal habits, whether that was normal for hybrids or based on the fact he had stayed in dog form so long you didn’t know but he was always there. At your heels, hovering, sitting by your feet trying to make himself look small, laying his head in your lap, nosing along your throat, along your belly. Half the time you were sure he didn’t know what he was doing to you always being this close. It didn’t help he was attractive, the kind of man you were sure wouldn’t give you the time of day had circumstances been any different and yet he was always trailing you desperate to be good. 

Maybe that was your real undoing, that look he gave you when you could tell he was trying so hard to obey, to listen, to please you no matter what, to behave. Maybe you were the real animal because it made something in your brain light up, made your knees weak and your tongue feel to big in your mouth.

Then...there was today. Today when you came home from work early to find Nico nude on your bed, used panties in his hand as he inhaled your scent, pillow tucked between his legs as he humped with abandon, chasing after his high with your name on his lips. You should have closed the door, left and pretended you never saw him but you couldn’t deny the rush of heat that blossomed between your legs at the sight.

When he had seen you he had been startled, instantly ashamed, ears flatting and a whine in his tone as he apologized, waiting for you to scold him or finally kick him to the curb. What he hadn’t expected was you climbing into his lap, gently kissing at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay... is my poor Nico in rut?” you mummer, it’s a little embarrassing hearing those words come out your mouth but the way Nico’s eyes glaze over with lust and his breath stutters you’re sure you won’t regret it.

He whines and nods, those big brown eyes watching you with something like admiration? No...reverence maybe. Like a righteous man standing at gods feet, but you weren’t god and if your Nico was so eager to worship, who were you to deny? Yet he waits. He’s good like that, he always is.

“Please Nico” you breath out by his ear, pressing a kiss along his jaw for reassurance.

He’s on you in an instant, not rough just eager to please. His calloused hands slide off your clothes with ease, Nico nips along your throat oh so carful not to bite minding his teeth but greedy enough to let himself mark your pretty skin. Because despite the thick black leather collar currently around his neck (the one thing he left on) he needs to know, needs to know he’s yours, that your his, that you don’t need anyone besides him. 

He lays down and before you can ask what he’s doing Nico claws at the fat of your thighs, dragging you up up up to his waiting mouth. You yelp at the action trying to balance yourself on your knees but he doesn’t give you much time to adjust, bullying his head between your thighs, stubble scratching at your skin as he dives in. He gives quick licks against your already wet sex. It’s sloppy at first, the excitement of Nico finally getting what he wants making his thoughts hazy but when you whimper and try to grind down on his face he gets the message pretty quickly.

He grabs at your thighs and brings you down, movements more precise as he laps like a man dying of thirst making you mewl and writhe in pleasure. He makes a pleased hum at the noises he manages to pull from you and the added vibrations only add to the warmth building in your gut. You won’t last like this, you can’t, not when Nico’s doing everything he can to make you fall apart. You feel his soft ears flicker against your thighs and then two of his thick fingers press in curling against your sweet spot. You finish embarrassingly fast, the sensations too much for you to keep up with. You moan trying to move away from Nico’s tongue which keeps moving, overstimulating you pass your release but he doesn’t relent, he’s finally gotten his treat and he isn’t passing up the opportunity. 

When he does finally pull his head from out between your thighs you dumbly think that it’s over when he flips the two of you, letting a firm hand press gently against your back moving you so that you’re face down against the mattress. Doggy style, how original. If you weren’t just as desperate as Nico you might’ve even made a snide comment. That pillow he was humping is placed under your hips now giving you something to grind against while giving Nico the added benefit of your body being angled up, presenting yourself to the man behind you. At this point you’re starting to wonder if he really is in rut. 

Nico presses himself against your back, his warmth and weight both grounding and mind numbing at the same time. He reaches down to swipe his cock along you once, twice, then presses in only barely just the tip and for a second you wonder if he’s trying to tease you until he whines. 

“So pretty...so good, let me make you feel good baby? Please? I’m hurtin for you, didn’t even get to cum earlier want to put it in you so bad, I’m so hard for you” Despite the pure filth pouring from his mouth...it makes your own mouth water. You’ve never been more sure that you’ve needed someone the way you do now, the way he’s begging, strong arms keeping his body weight on top of you. Because of course he was asking first, he was your good boy and even though you can tell it’s taking all his self control not to just take you he has to prove it, has to prove how well he can obey.

“Nico~ be a good boy and fuck me” you breathe 

The control that he was hanging onto snaps.

“fuck- ah, shit so good baby, feels so good” Nico pants in your ear. You want to focus on what he’s saying, really you do, but it’s hard when his warmth is draped over your back, his strong arm around your waist is the only thing currently keeping your shaking legs up as he sinks into you to the hilt.

The stretch is there but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being so full. It doesn’t help Nico’s leaking precum like a fountain, making a mess out of both your thighs, was he really this riled up over you?

“Been wantin to do this for so long- shit, s’good sweetheart taking me so good.” he nips at the shell of your ear and yeah you’re going to hell but if you can get Nicholas to fuck you like this a few more times it’ll have been worth it.

His hips set an unrelenting pace right off the bat, yet even now as he mouths along your neck, presses in deep enough to ruin you for anyone else, heavy balls slapping against you with each thrust, he never hurts you. Why would he? He’s good, he’s obedient and he’s yours. He want’s to show you, needs to show you how good he can be, how good he can make you feel.

Noises that sound like a mixture of a growl and and moan spill from his mouth, the metal of his dog tag feels cool against your neck. One arm wraps around your waist, pushing and pulling you along with his motions dragging you down on his cock over and over again. The other glides up your chest then stops once it reaches your chin, holding your head up as he pants in your ear. His hair is getting long, you can feel the ends of his shaggy curls tickling the back of your neck, that and his hot breath fanning against your back. 

You can’t think straight like this, each thrust spilling out more of both your slick. The walls echoing back the perverse sounds of both your moans, sloppy noises of skin meeting sweat slicked skin. Nico’s tail is wagging slightly and you’d think it was cute if he wasn’t fucking you stupid right now. A familiar heat is beginning to curl in your stomach, you roll your eyes back and feel a bit of drool begin to spill down your lips. 

You’re close, god you’re so close and you can tell Nico is too, actually you think he’s been close for awhile now but he’s not going to be satisfied until you are. 

“N-Nico please” you don’t know what you’re begging for but luckily he does, suppose that just goes to show how devoted he is, he knows you better than you know yourself.

He reaches between your thighs and- fuck your dripping, you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it, maybe you were so distracted with the mess Nico was making you didn’t stop to consider your own. Either way you’d have to change the sheets later.

His fingers press against that sensitive spot that aches and you swear the breath is knocked out of you.  “Nico Nico Nico-” his name falls from your lips like a prayer and he whimpers, thrust getting more frantic more desperate as he tries to pull you to the edge.

“Please angel please, cum on me wanna feel it need you to feel good” this is so far from the cagey stray you brought in but then again...Nico always was so much more gentle with you. He sits at your heels, he nuzzles against your stomach he-

“Fuck Nico I’m gonna cum” you whine 

“Cum fuck- cum please baby need it” Nico pants fingers dipping again to work an orgasm out of you.

And it does. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a train, a broken sound that you think is a half hearted “Nico” choked off by your own moans. Your legs tremble and Nico’s hand flies down to rip at the sheets as he makes his own desperate noise. It’s animalistic, a deep throaty moan that tampers off into something like a howl. 

He doesn’t stop, thrusting into you as his cock twitches spilling hot cum into until you swear you can taste it. It doesn’t help your body is eagerly reacting to it, walls twitching trying to milk him for all he’s worth, earning you a few more lazy thrust as his release begins to spill out of you from the sheer amount of cum he’s just filled you with. 

You both pant trying to recover, your body is limp under Nico and you aren’t sure you’ll have the strength to leave the bed for the next week with out fucked out you feel.

Nico leans down to nuzzle against your neck and face giving you an apprehensive lick against your cheek. 

“Good?” He ask flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. You know what he really means, “Was I good?” “Did I please you?” “Did it make you feel good?” 

You reach up to lazily scratch against his mop of black hair and around those fluffy ears. You’re rewarded with the feeling of Nico’s tail wagging keenly.

“Yeah...you’re my good boy Nico” you hum tracing along his collar, he shivers and you can feel his dick twitch in interest. 

“Insatiable” you huff pushing his face away, he flashes you a smile with those sharp canines and nudges your hand out of the way to nose against your temple.

“You have no idea” 

It seems neither of you are going to be leaving the bed anytime soon. 

[akirakirxaa]

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare!” - Unsundered Azem AU or ancients era, if it bites for azemet? otherwise ofc whatever you can come up with is excellent :3

[takes place in the Unsundered Azem AU, as an alternate ending to The Dying Gasp.]

"Nng..."

Persephone slowly drifted back to consciousness. Every muscle ached, her skin stinging and head pounding. Her shoulders screamed at her, and after a few moments she realized she was hanging by her wrists from...something. She tried to reach for the bindings, trying to relieve some of the pain in her shoulders, only for her arms to scream in protest; Persephone couldn't be sure, but she suspected that something was far more damaged than just the strain of being bound.

She cast her mind back, trying to recall what had happened. She had donned her transformation, facing Hades in his, scythe in hand. And then...it was largely a blur. She knew they fought. The injuries she could feel all over attested to that. But then everything went dark.

Persephone cracked her eyes open, peering out at the dark, twisted surroundings around her. She had little talent for soulsight herself, but even she could practically see the dark aspected aether shimmering in the air around her. She struggled to get her feet beneath her, the clinking of metal telling her that her bonds were chains, the metal of the cuffs around her wrists biting. Footsteps approached from behind, and despite the pain she pulled at her bonds, knowing whoever or whatever it was, she wanted no part of it.

Her beloved Hades stepped in front of her, clad in the ceremonial robes of the Ascians, expression soft but something in his eyes seeming...distant.

"Now, now, my dear, don't hurt yourself," he soothed, but it did nothing to calm Persephone's suddenly racing pulse. Her sense for danger had never failed her before, and it was screaming at her now; beyond her clear capture by her husband who she normally would never be afraid of, something else was wrong.

"Hades, what are you doing?"

"You have been lost for long enough; I'm just bringing you home."

Persephone knew when he was dodging a question. She twisted in her bonds, fighting to see behind her. She was bound to the massive staff he'd wielded in his transformed form, purple crystal carved into an effigy of his god. But past that, over her shoulder and through the jagged edges of the crystal, she saw a massive presence, dense with more aether than she could fathom.

Bring her home, indeed. And ensure she never wanted to leave it again.

"Hades! Hades, you can't do this," she whipped back around, yanking desperately at her chains, the metal cuffs biting hard into her skin and pain shooting through her arms and down her back.

"Oh, Seph, if you'd just listened to me, this wouldn't be necessary," he took her face in his metal-claw-tipped hands, and she tried to kick out, only to find her legs were loosely chained to the base of the effigy, keeping her from lashing out.

"Don't you dare, Hades, don't you dare!" Persephone tried to pull her face free but he held her face firm, meeting her gaze with something like pity. "I don't want this!"

"Unfortunately, my love, it does not matter what you want," he gave a small sigh. "Your Mother has filled your head with lies, and so this is the only way to expunge Her."

"Please, please Hades, you don't have to do this," she could feel the aether behind her creeping closer, practically lapping at her heels. "You...you always said you loved how free I was. The stories I would bring home. You wouldn't take that from me." His fist suddenly connected with the crystal just behind her head, his eyes hardening with fury. She shook; he had never lashed out at her like that.

"I did. I never wanted to cage you. But then you never came home. I'll not lose you again!"

"You don't have to!" The aether was creeping up her ankles now, with torturous slowness, and she fought it with what little of her own aether remained to her. "You can come with me, we can leave this place together."

"No," Hades' voice was a low growl. "No, you will remain with me. We will fix the world. Zodiark will restore Hythlodaeus to us. And then we'll be together, forever."

"I don't want more death! They're people, just like-"

"NO!" His other hand closed around her throat, pushing her back against the crystal, not hard enough to keep her from breathing but not light enough to allow her enough breath to speak. She fought to draw aether to her, to don her transformation once more, but it was like her abilities had been stifled. She ripped with desperation at her shackles, her adrenaline fueling her through the pain. She felt his lips against her forehead.

"Calm yourself, you'll only hurt yourself more," he soothed, and she wanted to cry 'You're the one hurting me!', but she could only cry wordlessly as Zodiark's aether slowly overtook more and more of her own. "The more you fight it, the worse it is, my dear."

She didn't know if he was still holding her neck, now too preoccupied with fighting against Zodiark with all she had to focus on the betrayal of her own husband doing this to her. But it was a losing battle; even with her all dedicated to resisting, it did little to stop the primal. And with no help coming, it was only a matter of time. And she could feel she didn't have much of that left.

Persephone couldn't help thinking that, if she had to be bound to this monster, at least a part of it was made of her beloved second husband. She didn't know if the wetness on her face was from her tears or blood from her struggling.

She felt pressure against her lips, and her mind was so strained that she didn't know if it was Hades or some hallucination of Hythlodaeus. But it brought with it comfort and she found herself wanting it more than anything.

Persephone didn't know if she just finally lost the battle, or if she gave up the fight, but she suddenly didn't know why she was fighting it anymore. Her exhausted arms dropped to her sides limply, freed from their cuffs, and Hades scooped her up, holding her close, and she was so tired, she couldn't think of why she was upset with him.

"Welcome home, Persephone."

[pitviperofdoom]

It has been a HOT minute since I posted anything here about Caleb and Jack, my vampire-and-frankenstein-monster duo. They're two of my nearest and dearest OCs, and rest assured that no matter what else I get up to, they're always in my thoughts.

But this was the last time I made a substantial post about them, about six-ish years ago when I tried writing their story for NaNo. The way I was writing it wasn't really working out, and I shelved it for a bit so I could continue developing the storyverse they're part of.

And, well, I did a lot of development! Came up with a much more coherent plot for their intro story, ended up working on it last November for NaNo, so it worked out.

Anyway, some time after my previous attempt, Jack in particular went through quite the redesign, and for a while I've been wanting to draw how he looks now, but it's been ages since I drew regularly and I could never get up the nerve and motivation for it.

But hey! Writing's my thing! So I figured, why not just post his in-universe description?

So, here's Caleb and Jack's first meeting, in its current incarnation. Hope you guys enjoy:

Caleb’s hand was halfway to his phone when, further into the woods to the southeast, a pair of high-pitched howls rent the air.

“Shit.” He was already running. Normal wolves didn’t range this far west. What the hell were werewolves doing out here when there was a creature on the loose that already put two of theirs in the hospital?

A third wolf voice joined the rest, not so much a howl as a yelping scream. Caleb abandoned running and took flight instead, shooting upward until his bat form broke through the foliage and flitted over the trees unhindered. The wolves, bless them, continued to howl for help, leading Caleb straight to them. Once he was nearly on top of them, Caleb dove back down through the treetops. He abandoned his bat form halfway down, and let his weight carry him the rest of the way to the earth.

Three small, rangy wolves paced and snarled in the dark. One was limping. The other two crowded in front of them protectively, teeth bared to the gums at the fourth figure crouching in the loam nearby. 

It was a person, or at least person-shaped, dressed in rags and snarling like a beast. It moved strangely, its feet elongated so that it balanced on its toes like a bird. There was blood on the ground, and blood on its long, sharp, shining fingers.

One of the wolves lunged and snapped, and the creature charged. Caleb met it halfway and struck claws-first.

His talons tore through clammy flesh. The blow sent the creature stumbling back, clumsy on its oddly-built legs. Its foot caught on a root and sent it flailing to the ground, and Caleb was upon it before it could recover.

It struggled wildly beneath him, teeth gnashing and foaming as it tried to bite him. Another blow to the face, and Caleb’s claw caught on something that didn’t feel like flesh—string? Thread? Its breath smelled of blood and chemicals, and its eyes—

There was something wrong with its eyes.

It kicked out at him, and he found its feet just as sharp as its hands. He was forced to let go when it cut him in the stomach, and it broke away and scrambled back until a tree halted its retreat.

One of the young wolves charged again, baying like a hunting hound, only to catch another sharp-taloned kick to the face. The cornered creature lashed out again, and Caleb flung himself sideways into the wolf, knocking her out of the way with a yelp. 

“Get out of here!” he hissed, and the wolf snarled back at him defiantly. In the space left by their argument, the creature scrambled to its feet and fled. Caleb was about to give chase when the wolf slammed him back and took off after the creature themself.

By now the creature was wounded, and its gait made it slow. The wolf caught up in two bounds, and Caleb couldn’t reach them before the creature whipped around and tensed as if to attack.

With a deafening snarl, a fourth wolf—easily twice the size of the others, dark brown with a dusting of red around the ruff—appeared out of the trees, sank her teeth into the creature’s shoulder, and flung it back. The smaller wolf yelped in shock and skidded to a halt. Caleb overtook them and pounced on the creature before it could recover. It was trying to rise when Caleb pinned it to the earth, fangs bared. Dimly he was aware of the wolves’ snarling presence behind him, but his eyes were fixed on the creature. His mind raced. Removing the head or destroying the heart was usually a good bet, but he didn’t know what he was dealing with in the first place.

Head was easiest, at this point. If this was somehow a fucked up zombie, it might not even have a heart.

His hand closed around the creature’s throat. God, he wished he’d brought a knife.

Beneath him, the creature went limp. Its jaws cracked open, exposing smooth, shining teeth.

“St—Stuh—Stop.”

Caleb startled so badly he let go. The creature gasped and scrambled away again, before the red-maned wolf darted round to cut off its escape. A snarl from her sent it cowering into the dirt, crying out. 

“Stop please.” The words scraped their way out of its throat. Immediately it flinched, curling in on itself as if anticipating another blow. 

All Caleb could do was stare at it, then at the wolf helping him corner it. “You heard that, right?”

Maya Robinson cocked her head to the side, looking for all the world like a dog that had just heard a new sound.

“Did you just talk?” Caleb demanded, feeling ridiculous. It could be mimicry. He’d heard rumors of necromancers teaching their puppets to imitate speech.

The creature curled into a tighter ball without a sound.

“Hey,” he bit out. “Answer me if you understand. Did you just talk?”

It flinched again. Breath rattled and hissed in and out of it. “Sorry,” it rasped out.

Caleb stared at the wolf cornering it. She stared back, nonplussed.

Behind him, another growl rose from the smaller wolf from before. They crept forward, eyes fixed on the creature. The cuts on their face still bled. They lunged, only for Maya to let out the loudest snarl Caleb had ever heard. Cowed, they immediately dropped to the ground and pinned back their ears.

The creature on the ground startled visibly, rolling to its feet. Maya turned toward it, teeth bared, and made as if to lunge and put it straight back on the ground.

“Wait,” Caleb cut her off, one hand in front of her glaring face. “Just, wait. Give it a minute.” The wolf gave a disgruntled snort. “Don’t. You aren’t even supposed to be here.”

Maya snorted again, unimpressed, before turning away, tipping her head back, and howling to the sky. Answering calls reached Caleb’s ears within seconds.

“You, sit,” Caleb growled at the creature. It sat, arranging its legs awkwardly on the ground, and Caleb stepped back to take his first good look at it.

It looked human, for the most part. Its component parts seemed mostly human. It had two arms, two legs, and a head, all where they were supposed to be. Cautiously he took hold of one of the creature’s wrists, turning it over for a better look. It submitted to the inspection meekly enough, silent as it waited for him to finish. 

Maya had been half-right about it wielding knives. Its hands were knives; the fingers stopped at the second knuckle, and instead of the last two joints were six-inch steel blades. The thumb had been treated similarly, the last joint replaced with a shorter blade. Caleb tested one edge and cut himself easily. He released the wrist and turned instead to the strange shape of its feet, and had to stare at it for nearly a minute to understand just what he was looking at. Below the heel, its foot was an elongated fusion of metal and flesh that split into three toes with long, curved steel talons. It was built to walk like a bird. Like a dinosaur, more like.

Beneath the rags it wore, prominent seams crisscrossed its flesh, making its skin a grisly patchwork. The face alone had at least three different skin tones, each bordered by thick, even stitching. A shock of grayish-white hair grew from its head in uneven tangles. Caleb cautiously brushed it out of the way of its eyes, and couldn’t suppress a hiss of instinctive revulsion.

It didn’t have eyes. No sclerae, irises, or pupils. The sockets were pits of viscous black ooze that leaked like tears.

Caleb breathed in, drinking in the mingled floral-chemical scent, and sighed.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he informed the wolves. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

[sword-is-bored]

I live for your Soldier!Reader and i am completely (not) normal about this

Oh!! She!!

Let’s go again then!

Mask It

(Y/n) and Link rode together through Hyrule field. They were tasked with surveying the land and making sure no monsters or goons. (Y/n) heard the chattering of Bokoblins and slowly slid from her horse. She listened closely, keeping her hand over her sword as she peeked from behind the trees. Before her was a camp of Bokoblin, cheering and dancing. She made sure she was clear from their point of view and slowly made her way to a bush in front of her. Underneath her foot a branch snapped, and the Bokoblins looked around confused. (Y/n) ducked down, praying they didn’t see her. She didn’t know where Link was, he’d split off from her. The arrogant asshole.

(Y/n) looked up from the bush, finding herself face to face with one of the pig faced monsters. It reared back it’s club, (Y/n) jumped back out of the way. She pulled out her sword and swung hard, catching the Bokoblin and throwing it off its feet. (Y/n) stood, looking up to see the other three Bokoblin running over and screaming. In a panic (Y/n) slaughtered the prone Bokoblin. She suddenly found herself enveloped in a pile of claws, fangs and weapons. (Y/n) let out a scream before finding her sword again, stabbing and striking violently as her instincts kicked in.

A horse rode up to the camp. Link sat atop of his trusty mare, Epona. “(Y/n), what happened?” He asked, his eyes wide as he looked at (Y/n). She was panting, debris of the monsters around her. She held her arm, biting back the pain from the arrow lodged in her shoulder. “Saw a camp.” She hissed, sitting down and carefully pulling off her armor around the arrow. “Decided to investigate. Bit me in my ass.” Link jumped down from Epona, rushing over to her. “Hey, do you need help?” He asked, a shake in his voice. (Y/n) laughed, looking at him. “I forget, you’re still technically a rookie.” She said, her hand wrapping around the arrow. “Watch and learn, kid, soon you’ll be doing this on the battlefield yourself.” She muttered, pulling the arrow out. It tore from her skin with a sickening sound, Link going green watching her.

“Goddess, I— (Y/n).” He said shakily, patting his pouches and diving in when he found bandages. He kneeled beside her, wrapping the gaping wound. (Y/n) leaned back and rested on a log, keeping her eyes closed. “Doesn’t it… hurt?” Link asked tentatively. (Y/n)‘s eyes opened, peering at Link. “Link, how do you think it would feel if you had to pull an arrow out of yourself?” She deadpanned. Link swallowed, finishing the wrap. “I mean… not great.” He muttered. (Y/n) rolled her eyes. “No shit.” She huffed, pulling her armor back on. “But, we’re knights. We power through.” She sighed, slowly standing up. “Come on, we’re not done.” She said, whistling for her horse. Link looked at her, horrified. “What? You’re not going back to the barracks? (Y/n), you’re injured—“

(Y/n)’s head snapped over to Link, a harsh look in her eyes. “Yeah, but we’re knights.” She said bluntly. “I know you want to surpass me, and I won’t let that happen. I’ll still be better than you, no matter how much everyone else likes you.” She climbed on her horse, wincing a bit. She masked it quickly, pulling on the reigns. “And next time, don’t split off from your partner. That’s the fastest way to get them, and yourself, killed. You think you know what it takes to be a knight, but you must learn teamwork.” (Y/n) said calmly. “Get on your horse. Let’s go.”

[the-fiction-witch]

I Missed You

Media My Left Hand Man / Phantom Halo / Sleep No More

Character Samuel Emmerson

Couple Samuel X Reader

Rating SMUT

I sat on my bed reading some comic books as usual when I heard the door, I knew my dad and Becket was out so I sighed and got up heading to the door and checking the peephole to make sure it wasn't a debt collector or anything worse, but I saw a sweet sight so I quickly opened it. 

"Hi Y/n," I smiled as I saw her on the porch, 

"Hi Sammy," she giggled hopping in and giving my cheek a kiss as she goes back to my room, 

I shut the door and bolted after her wrapping my arms around her in her cute little pinafore dress as she threw her bag on the bed, she happily wrapped her own around my neck and pulled us into a deep passionate kiss. 

I kissed her back enthusiastically for as long as she'd let me until she pulled away, "Umm I missed you so badly Y/n."

"Aww missed you too Sammy," she giggled, 

"What uhh did you pop by for then? just a cuddle? just some kisses?" I cooed

"I was thinking something more..." she smirked stroking her hands down my shirt,

"Yeah? How much more?"

"Well I was thinking some bed breaking sex?"

for a second I was speechless, "Uhhh... yes. I would like that very much," I nodded,

She smirked and pulled me back to our kiss and tugging us both into my bed, 

I kissed her passionately stroking my hands over that perfect body, she kissed me harder and clawed her nails at the back of my shirt, I eagerly pulled back sitting over her with my legs either side of her slipping my shirt off and throwing it off my bed quickly returning to her lips holding her face in my hand as we kissed. She stroked her hand down to my jeans but I pulled back trying to catch my breath "this what you want?" I cooed to her she nodded, “Ummm I don’t know what is going on with you today… but I kinda want it to happen everyday!” I smirked tugging them off too as I reconnected our lips and slowly pulled up her dress pushing higher and higher till she sat up and helped me tugg it off her leaving her completely naked on my bed. I had to admit I stopped and admired her no matter how often i see her she always floors me with just how amazing she is… I kissed her neck and kissed down her chest squeezing her breast as I went fuck she felt so good and I kissed all the way down to her mound trying to make her open her legs so I could eat her out but she didn't want me too she forced me back to her lips by my hair and began clawing at my underwear

"Ummmm okay Y/n" I growled quickly, kicking them off much to her enjoyment as she smiled widely, stroking her hand across my shaft tenderly "uhhhh!" I gasped my head throwing back my jaw dropping, she smirked and opened her legs wide stroking her pussy almost invitingly and I sure as hell didn't need to be told twice, I held the base of my shaft to guide myself expecting some difficulty given I hadn't used my hands or my mouth for her but she was absolutely soaked! I slipped in so easily you'd think I'd have been eating her out for three hours! But she felt so good ! Everything I have ever wanted to feel around me! I uhh I admit I think I went a bit crazy holding the bedframe as I wasted no time to absolutely fucking destroy her! My head nothing but extacy, my hips working in their own, the bed creaking and squeaking, my breaths sharp and jagged her only sound her playfully little giggles which only made me want to be harder and more intense, I wanted to stop her innocence giggles and make her scream for me! I knew I was close but I wanted to hear her so badly kissing her neck leaving her with a few hard hickeys "You always feel so good! But today… Ummm! I need you so badly" she gripped my arms and started to dig her nails into my skin I knew I was so desperate biting my lip and squeezing my eye shut trying do hard not to cum just yet when are tightened around me and squirting down my bed screaming in my ear and that was enough "uuuuuuuhhh-uuughhhh!" I burried myself as deep inside her as possible before I pulled out and laid beside her bothy of us starting at the ceiling "fuck -" I gasped "what the hell Y/n?” I chuckled,

“I missed you,” she giggled,

“Yeah… I missed you too,” I smiled holding her hand and giving her a kiss as we calmed down. 

[coco-bean-1218]

CLAIREEEEEEEE I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING FOR ANGSTY CHUCK/CLAIRE CONTENT 🙏🙏

could i do "You’ll be fine.” silence “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" from the injury prompts?? it doesn't matter who's injured, i'm sure it'll be great either way!!

love you!! have an amazing day!

BLU!!!!! I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!! THIS IS GONNA BREAK SO MANY HEARTS!!!! GRAB THE TISSUES; YOU'LL NEED THEM!!!! LOVE YOU TOO!!!!

WARNING: SPOILER ALERT

December, 1944

Ardennes Forest, Bastogne, Belgium

The world erupted in a cacophony of thunder, the ground shivering beneath Claire's feet. December's chill had seeped into the bones of Easy Company as they huddled in their foxholes in Bastogne, but nothing could have prepared them for the sudden inferno that rained from the sky.

"Get down!" someone screamed, barely audible over the roar.

Claire’s instincts as a combat medic kicked in—she was already moving, crouched low, ready to throw herself towards the wounded. But fate had a cruel twist; a shell burst mere feet away, its shockwave hurling her through the air like a ragdoll caught in a gust of wind. Time seemed to slow as Claire soared through the air, her body twisting and contorting in unnatural ways. 

"CLAIRE!" The cry cut through the chaos, agonized and sharp.

Grant's voice, unmistakable even amidst the pandemonium, was laced with raw terror. His long strides ate up the distance between them as he bolted from his cover, the golden-haired paratrooper from California who'd never quite mastered the art of concealing his heart on his sleeve.

Claire hit the frozen earth hard, her vision exploding into a swirling mass of grey and crimson. Sounds dulled, as if she were underwater, her ears ringing with an eerie high-pitched whine that drowned out the battle cries and explosions.

"Cl-Claire?" Grant’s anxious face swam into view above her, his blue eyes wide with fear. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear.

She tried to respond, to tell him she was alright, but her voice was lost, a silent scream in her throat. Panic clawed at her insides, a relentless beast that wouldn't be soothed. She couldn't move, couldn't feel anything below the sharp pain that sliced through her chest just below her collarbone.

Blood—her blood—stained the snow around her, a vivid red against pure white. Claire's mind reeled; this wasn't how it was supposed to end, not here, not now. She had always been the one patching others up, not the other way around. 

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one an icy dagger in her lungs. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all—the girl who joked in the face of death now stared it down, and the humor was lost on her.

"Please," she heard Grant whisper through the veil of disorientation that clouded her consciousness, his plea a fragile thread in the tapestry of war that unraveled around them.

Claire's thoughts swirled, conflicting emotions battling within her. There was Eugene, her best friend, whose steady presence had always anchored her, and then there was Grant, the embodiment of awkward affection and earnest blue-eyed concern. She had never intended to weave such a complicated web of feelings between them, especially not here, in the midst of a world torn apart by conflict.

Was this what dying felt like? The cold seeping into her bones, the world fading at the edges, leaving behind only the echo of unrequited love and the faces of those she cared about?

"Grant," she tried to say, but the name dissolved into the frigid air, unheard. Her body was betraying her, refusing to cooperate, to fight, to cling to the life she'd always gripped with stubborn tenacity.

Through the haze of pain and fear, Claire held onto one thought: she wasn't ready to let go. Not yet.

"Roe!" Grant's voice tore through the biting cold, a desperate plea against the deafening blasts that continued to punctuate the frozen landscape. His hands, already numb from the chill, shook as he assessed Claire's injuries—a graphic contrast of crimson against the pristine white snow.

"It's okay, Claire," he reassured her, his gaze between duty and decorum. The fabric of her coat was shredded, and beneath it, a darker stain spread, threatening to consume her vitality. He knew he needed to act, but propriety held him back. How could he, a man raised on respect and decency, expose Claire in such a way? Yet, as her shallow breaths fogged the icy air, he realized that hesitation could cost her life.

"Please, Eugene!" he called again, his voice cracking with the strain of both fear and cold. He tentatively reached for the edge of her coat, hesitating, "Sorry, Claire," he whispered, as he carefully started to remove the layers, his fingers working with urgency yet light and respectful. His hands trembled, not just from the cold, but also from the fear of further injuring her or crossing an unseen line even in this dire situation.

Claire's breath came in shallow gasps, fogging the air briefly before dissipating into nothingness. She lay there, a delicate figure etched against the harshness of war, her life slipping away with each labored breath. 

"You’ll be fine." The words felt hollow even as they left his lips, a mantra against the overwhelming helplessness. Silence swallowed his assurance whole, leaving him stranded amidst the chaos of his own emotions.

Grant looked down into the wound, the blood seeping out onto the snow, painting a harsh picture of mortality. His mind raced, every second without Eugene an eternity, every drop of her blood a testament to his own inadequacy. His hands, though gentle, were clumsy with urgency as he worked to stem the flow, his movements mindful not to cause further harm.

"You’ll be fine." He repeated, more to himself now, a feeble attempt to will the universe into compliance. "Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" The tremor in his voice betrayed the panic that clawed its way through his composure.

In his mind, he saw her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the spirited debates they’d shared, the tender moments that had unfolded so naturally between them. Those memories clashed with the present—her face losing color, her body growing still. The thought of a future without her was unacceptable, unthinkable.

"Come on, Claire," he murmured, his hands slick with her blood. Each heartbeat that throbbed under his fingertips was a reminder that she was still here, still fighting. And as long as she fought, he would fight with her. In the battlefield of love and war, surrender wasn't an option. Not for Claire. Not while he still drew breath.

"Doc, hurry," Grant whispered into the void, as if the words could summon Eugene faster. His gaze never left Claire's face, willing her to return to him, to return to the world that was cruel and beautiful and theirs for the taking—if only she would wake up.

Claire's eyelids snapped open with a jolt, revealing a world that spun and shimmered in a haze of blurred shapes and muted sounds. Her breaths came in ragged gulps, stirring the frigid air into tiny clouds that dissipated as quickly as they formed. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth, mingling with the sting of gunpowder and earth.

"You're okay," Grant's voice reached her, distant and distorted, like an echo in a deep cavern. His hands were gentle yet urgent on her skin, pressing down to stem the flow of warmth that seeped from her chest.

But Claire's attention was pulled away, drawn to the spectral figure emerging from the chaos—a boy, no, a young man with familiar brown hair and eyes that mirrored her own in-depth and sorrow. Noah stood before her, his navy uniform impeccable, untouched by the grime of war. He seemed out of place amidst the snow and blood, an apparition from another time, another life.

"Hi, Claire," he said, his voice clear and soothing, a balm to the agony that wracked her body, "I've missed you."

"Noah...?" she whispered,

"It doesn't have to hurt anymore, the heartache or the pain," Noah replied, offering a half-smile that twisted Claire's heart with nostalgia, "The sorrow, the guilt, the longing."

"Can't feel anything... should be nice..." she muttered, her voice barely a thread, as her hand quivered, reaching toward Noah's inviting grasp.

"It is," Noah whispered, his voice like an ethereal gust of wind. "Peaceful. No pain. No fear. No war."

Her hand twitched, instinctively reaching for him, but a sharp pain lanced through her body, drawing a gasp that fogged the lenses of her glasses. She could see Grant's silhouette hovering over her, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the blurriness.

Noah's hand stretched out towards her, fingers almost translucent against the backdrop of the winter sky. "Come with me, Claire. We can be together—like we always should've been."

"Grant will understand," Noah continued, his gaze holding hers, unyielding yet full of compassion as he placed his phantasmal hand on Grant's shoulder. "He's a good man. He knows about loss, about love. He knows how much you loved me, how much I meant to you. He'll let you go."

Claire's mind reeled, torn between the beckoning peace Noah offered and the raw, desperate need to cling to life—to Grant. Her thoughts became a tangle of memories and wishes, each one pulling her in opposite directions. Could she leave Grant and Eugene behind? Abandon the future they might have shared?

"Please, Claire, fight this," Grant urged, his voice breaking through her indecision. "You're strong. You’ve always been the bravest person I know."

Tears blurred her vision further, mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. Noah's presence was comforting, promising an end to pain, to fear. But it was Grant's touch, warm and alive, that anchored her to the here and now.

"Grant...Eugene," Her voice was a wind-whispered echo, her hand lifting with the tremulous fragility of a leaf in a storm.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," Grant said, his voice thick with panic as he pressed down on the wound with more force, crimson overflowing onto the white snow beneath them. His heart pounded against his ribcage, each beat a hammer blow against the walls of his composure.

"Noah...?" Claire murmured again, reaching out to the spectral vision only she could see. A soft smile curved her lips, a stark contrast to the chaotic tumult around them. Her fingers brushed through the apparition's offering, finding nothing but the chill of winter air.

"God, no," Grant whispered, hot tears carving tracks through the grime on his face. He watched her eyes fixate on an unseen horizon, her gaze filled with longing and love for a ghost from her past. The ghost of Noah Walters—the man he could never be, the first to claim her heart.

"Stay with me, Claire," he pleaded, feeling the tremble of her body like a sparrow in his hands. "Don't go to him."

But how could he compete with eternity? How could he chain her to a world of pain when the one she loved offered her solace in the beyond?

"Grant...will understand," she spoke aloud, her voice a fading ember as the hallucination of Noah coaxed her further. Her fingers twitched in the empty air, seeking a hand that wasn't there.

"Understand what? That I'm losing you? That I can't save you?" Grant's whisper broke into a ragged sob. A sob born from the deepest well of fear and loss, a sound that mingled with the distant thunder of war.

"Please, don't leave me," he begged, pressing his forehead to hers, his tears warm against her cold skin. "I can't—I won't let you go."

Claire's breath hitched, a silent struggle raging within her. Noah's presence was soothing, a balm to her shattered soul, yet Grant's touch, his earnest plea, was a lifeline thrown in a roiling sea.

"Damn it, Claire! Fight! Don't let him take you away from me!" Grant's voice was a desperate incantation, willing her spirit back from the precipice.

In her delirium, the pull of Noah's ghostly allure was strong, like a siren's call tugging at her very essence. It whispered promises of peace and reunion, of a love that transcended time and death itself. All the pain and suffering that had marred her existence would be washed away in the tender embrace of Noah's phantom arms. In a veil of mist, she saw Grant's tear-streaked face, his blue eyes searching hers for any sign of sanity, of recognition. He begged her with silent tears, his breath catching in his throat as he reached out for her one last time.

"We can be together, just like you always wanted," echoed Noah's voice in her mind, a haunting symphony of memories and dreams.

"God, no...not her...not my Claire," Grant repeated, his voice a raw edge of hope. He took hold of her hand, still reaching out into the open air, and pressed it tightly against his chest, over the frantic thump of his heart. His grip was fierce, unwilling to let her slip away. "Don't go. Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Stay or go," she heard her own heart echo, as she slipped back into unconsciousness. A heart that beat not just for the lost love of her youth, but for the man who held her now, who wept for her life amidst the snow and blood, whose tears fell onto her cheeks.

"I LOVE YOU!"

---

[nixor3o]

Small lil 8k fic of ren x two if my ocs!!!

The first night Marceline had an urge to go out and be social, she acted on it.

Dressing up in a cute short black dress that hugged her curves, cute red flats that matched her red lipstick, and beautiful gold jewelry that made her brown skin glow.

She looked good and she knew it.

She walked with confidence, sat directly in the middle of the bar and just waited for the free offers she knew she would get soon. Almost on cue, a short ginger man took the seat next to her with two drinks, "You aren't my type" she sighed breathlessly "I don't have to be for you to drink with me... You haven't even ordered yet" He shot back. While she wasn't necessarily attracted to him, she couldn't refuse his charm and charisma.

She glanced at the drinks he'd brought her, she assumed a rum and coke by the appearance. Carely paying attention to what drink his eyes were fixated on, she took the other drink. They both made a toast to life and drank. His yellow eyes did not leave her lips as she pressed them against the rim of the glass. He bought her a few more drinks, and seemed to leave her alone.

Good.

A couple minutes passed and Marceline's vision started blurring, the room felt like the room was spinning. 'Shit I shouldn't have had that last one, I need to go home' She stumbled out of her chair, thanking her choice to not wear heels. She pushed the door open and started her way home.

Walking was becoming more and more difficult, bumping into the wall, tripping over her feet, losing her senses. She didn't realize the extra set of footsteps following behind her.

Footsteps getting closer. She was grabbed by the arm, leading her into an ally before she was thrown onto the cold hard gravel. She used all her remaining strength to lift her head up to look at the person who was zip tying her legs together, but it was nothing more than a blurry black figure.

She felt sharp nails graze up her legs, agonizingly slow. The feeling of hands moving under her dress was distracting from the plastic digging in her skin. His hands ripped away before grabbing the back of Marceline’s head and shoving her back into the cold gravel. A soft chuckle was all she heard and her arms were forced behind her back, and she was lifted into the trunk of a car.

Marceline had woken up in a grimy dark basement. Fear. "Where?.." Her eyes adjusted and pain throbbed in her head. She was tied to a pole.

Soft taps of footsteps overhead and a door. A moment of paralyzing anxiety before the door flung open. The man from the bar, this time with a sickening smile, red marks on his face and fox ears and tail that moved hypnotically as he talked. "Well we'll see how the night ends... it ends with you in my basement." he sighed disgustingly sweet, she couldn't stand to look at him. “What the real test is if you make it till the end of the night.”

The pain began instantaneously. He cut her with such ease, the blade opened up her skin and was sliding under it. "YOU FUCK, FUCK YOU, DIE, DIE!" She screamed, she kicked him as much as she could, she tried to bite his face, anything to get away from him. Anything to make this stop.

No matter what she did, nothing seemed to be enough. Whether she was polite and tried to follow orders or whether she fought back, it always led to his claws in her skin. He'd horrendously tear her flesh, and then stitch the wounds back together sweetly. Just as she would get comfortable in sweetness, he'd pour the bottle of alcohol all over her, gushing it off her still bleeding fresh wounds. By the end of the night, screaming was the only thing she could hear, she didn't even know if it was coming from her anymore.

But that was 4 years ago.

Marceline had given up on getting her old life back, it wasn't awful 24/7, only the nights she woke up in the basement. Other than that she co-existed with the annoying man, the biggest downside was the bulky shock collar on her neck stopping her from doing practically everything. Said something to mean? Shocked. Fought back? Shocked. In rooms unannounced? Shocked. The worst one she couldn't even touch herself without him watching or she would be shocked if caught.

It was a normal night for Marceline, she was tying up another victim to the pole in the basement for her ‘roommate’ to torture.

She had grown used to this routine, but she was sick of it. "Alright dog, heavy works done, don't want you to break a nail." She yelled mockingly up the stairs, accidentally waking up the woman she just tied up.

She walked up the stairs with ease, ignoring the muffled cries for help that followed her. She opened the door. Ren was standing there making sure his mask was on properly. He flashed a wide grin before putting it on properly and heading down stairs with his tail wagging.

She lived her new life with a sick perverted mutt of a 'roommate.'

She couldn't hate it more.

Hours passed by, Marceline tried to drown out what she knew was happening with her shows, with her music, but the screaming always started, maybe moans mixed in, but the screaming was always enviable.

Ren had come upstairs from a really long night of streaming, he started to cook immediately after, taking his mind away from the homemade horrors within their own ‘home’. Marceline grabbed plates, cups, and silverware, began setting the table up quietly.

She knew how he expected things to go on recording nights.

Just a normal night for both of them. After they ate, she cleaned the dishes and cursed his name in one of the only times she has alone in the day.

Marceline would wait until after the dishes were done and he was fast asleep to go to her own room, and finally getting to feel the pleasure of being alone and her own hand.

It was a normal night for Maxxine,she was getting ready to meet her friends out for a night of fun.

Maxxine had gotten really used to going out on weekends, bar hopping, raving and frats; she couldn't love the scene more.

Maxxine was dancing with her friends when this short ginger male bumped into her, "I'm so so sorry!!"

"Oh I'm so sorry!!!"

They both blurted and laughed, "I'm Ren!!" "Maxxine!!" The two strangers giggled and danced together for a while, before wandering away from Max's friends into the kitchen to take a shot, they spent a bit of time together, getting to know each other, dancing, drinking, and before she knew it his hands were finding more and more comfortability on her waist, slowly finding their way down to the edge of her skirt, playing with the lace of her fishnets. His yellow eyes always followed where his hands went.

Tonight was one of Marceline's moral questioning days, she gets a break, but he goes out and breaks another victim. He's out every weekend to find pretty new women to put in his basement. Marceline hated being down there more than anything, but the screams and pleas the women let out haunt her, ‘At least it's them and not me’.

"Hey, do you wanna maybe go back to your place??" Maxxine slurred out leaning over onto him, the eager man nodded his head fast, they started on their way back bottles in hand.

Making sure she was drinking, his yellow eyes watched every sip on her lips taken from the glass.

Lips he would soon be kissing.

The clock ticked getting later and later in the night, wondering where he was. Marceline fantasized if someone had caught on to him, beating him, hurting him, all things she had wanted to do but never got the chance to with the hunk of metal on her shoulders that would shock her at any slight inconvenience of that scaredy-cat ren.

Once they entered his house, Maxxine was already black out drunk, too drunk to realize the other person was sitting on the couch watching them with disgust. His hands quickly found her waist, and he brought her head closer for their lips to crash. They melt into each other perfectly, Ren slowly took Max up the stairs as they giggle and shuffle up the stairs.

‘What the fuck?’ Marceline had never seen someone go with Ren anywhere, especially up stairs. ‘Shes is way too gorgeous to fuck a mutt like him’. Marceline knew it was trouble, but she carefully followed them up the stairs, listening in on the door.

He made sure to close the door behind them, he pressed Maxxine against the door, “You're so pretty” He kissed her neck, her hands moved under his shirt, taking it off with ease. With that he quickly dropped his pants, his yellow eyes the only thing shining in the dark room. His hands immediately pulled her shirt off, discarding on the floor. Her skirt was pulled down, and their body's pressed against each other, Maxxine being able to feel the hardness of Ren through his boxers, who was running his hands up and down her waist. Locking lips again in a messy passionate kiss. She ran her tongue across his mouth and licked the sharp fangs inside his mouth and brushed it off in a drunk haze.

The moaning and the banging only increased, Marceline couldn't believe that this was happening. Why was she allowed to be in his room like this or this kind of treatment? Anger and confusion swirled in her head. She was ripped away from the door when the movement against the door stopped.

Ren grabbed Maxxine by her legs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The feeling of her ass through the fishnets was exhilarating, he couldn't help but grope her, sinking his nails subtly into her flesh. He picked her up and carried her to his bed, laying her down carefully, never breaking their kiss for more than a second. He could feel her wetness growing through his boxers.

He finally broke the kiss, huffing and panting above her. His hands hungrily roaming all over her body, Maxxine letting out the prettiest drunk whines, the noises sent chills down his spine. The noises were also going down Marceline’s spine, driving her crazy, her head fully pressed against the door. Ren's hands ran up her legs, before he ripped her panties off and the crotch of her fishnets with no effort, leaving small cuts on her legs, blood beading from them. “You don't mind, do you?” his voice coated with a false sweetness. “Please, you can do whatever you want with me” her words slurred out of her pretty lips but he didn't care about her response, he knew she couldn't fight back anymore.

He stood over where she's lying, his yellow eyes glinting down at her like prey. He leaned to grab something that was behind her on the bed, and held a condom and something small she couldn't quite see. He ripped the package open with his teeth, tearing a corner off with his fangs. He pulled it out, eyes fixated on Maxxine's as he put it on. A wicked smile as he spat on his hand, rubbing both the condom on and the spit on along into the length of his cock till it was all wet. He lined himself up with her hole.

His hand caressed the side of her face, thumb swiping her cheek, as he slowly pushed inside of her. A snarl left his lips, the warmness was a bliss he hadn't felt in so long. The movements were sweet and gentle at first before they quickly accelerated to a rough animalistic thrusts, his hands pinning down her arms. It felt like he was getting deeper and deeper inside her, her drunken state made it feel like she was being broken in half. The moans got louder and became screams from pleasure. His mouth was sucking and biting her chest, lightly slipping her bra off. Her chest exposed, his hands quickly found their way, touching her fanatically.

Marceline sat there with her knees pressing into the floor. She couldn't see anything but the noises she made were flooding her mind. She wished she was in the room instead of that dog. Marceline knew too well the horrible things he did to his victims, she hated it so much until she saw the woman he dragged up here. Her hand mindlessly reached down in her underwear, it wasn't long before she started making soft noises, luckily being drowned out by Maxxine's screaming. This screaming for once didn't sound bad. It was really good, it was better than good, her whole bodying shaking in response. She couldn't do anything else, but try to guess what was happening to her, and imagining it was her doing it to Max instead.

Ren's hips picking up in pace faster and faster, growing rougher, he started to growl with claws now deep in her skin as he dragged his nails down. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing the man before her was different. The silhouette of ears perked up appeared and an odd fuzziness against her leg.

“What was that?” Maxxine asked, no answer. The beastkin's only response was pulling her hair and forcing his tongue into her mouth, slipping what felt like a pill down her throat, swallowing it down without realizing it. A growing panic that slowly faded, along with her vision and then her other senses. The last thing she heard was his voice, “It’s a shame, thought I'd have more time with you”.

“Fuck..” He pulled his cock out of Maxxine after watching her pass out under him and scrambled to put his back clothes on. “MARCELINE. He shouted, Marceline jumped quickly, removing her hand from her underwear as she opened the door, looking into the room in horror at the unconscious body.

“Help me move her to the basement, NOW.” His voice barked as he pointed the shock collar remote at her, causing her to flinch for a moment. She had no choice but to oblige with his command.

She took the woman, bridal style, in her arms and looked at her face. ‘How'd you go home with someone like him?’ Marceline thought, feeling a little disappointed that she got cut off so quickly. Carefully she walked down both sets of stairs and propped her up on the pole. All she could do was just stare at her.

Something about her that was such a turn on, her body sat so prettily. ‘Ren wasn't coming down for a minute’ she thought, inching closer to the unconscious woman. Marceline reached her hand back down her underwear, and started to please herself looking at the woman out cold. The pleasure quickly returned but it wasn't enough. Marceline took off her underwear, her eyes constantly glancing back and forth at the door. She grabbed a fist full of her soft purple hair, and angled her face up towards her, gently pried her mouth open and placed herself on Maxxine's mouth, letting out small moans. Getting wetter with each grind, it was sending her into a bliss. Nothing in these 4 years had ever felt so good. The idea of her not even knowing what Marceline was doing to her body turned her on more, she reached her free hand under her shirt and began playing with her nipples. It was so invigorating, bucking her hips more and faster, chasing the high of cumming. Her whole body was melting into others' mouth, Mar didn't even realize the footsteps overhead, moaning so loud, she didn't hear the door open or the creaks in the floorboards. Marceline screamed, gripping onto her hair tight and fell forward into the pole, her thighs slammed closed on the woman's face, breathing heavily until she finally heard him.

“Well that was unexpected from you, Marceline. ” A swift sting was the only thing Marceline felt before she fell to the ground from the shocking pain of the collar.

Ren dragged Marceline up the flight of stairs by her hair, opened the door and threw her onto the floor. “What the FUCK was that bitch?!” He stepped on her hand, his yellow eyes animalistic, now grinding his foot down, twisting the bones in her hands until she shrieked, “I'm sorry I didn't mean to” sobbed from her mouth again and again. He had enough, it was time to start the real fun.

Maxxine woke up confused and scared, alone in the dark with footsteps overhead. The door opened quickly, another woman was being taken roughly downstairs by Ren. “Good morning honey!” His voice dripped in sweetness.

He pushed the woman next to him down, her body curling in pain. “We're going to have fun right Max?”

Ren glared down at Maxxine with the same animalistic yellow eyes, she nodded. “Please..” We're the only words she could conjure up while he looked down at Maxxine, reaching down and petting her hair, “That's perfect, keep that up for your audience.” She looked up in a confused haze trying to comprehend what he meant. His attention snapping back at the other when she let out a soft groan against the cement. He grabbed her by her hair, dragging her to the desk parallel to Maxxine. Picking up the rope and tying her by her arms and stomach, he handed Marceline a camera and told her to hold still and record, or else.

He pulled his mask up.

“Today we have a beautiful catch, and if my hostess didn't fuck her, we would have had more personal time, but luckily for you viewers she did. ” He chuckled the room went silent,

Marceline could only stare at the woman. Guilt, shame, embarrassment all hitting her at once, Maxxine sad eyes looking up at her. “And so my hostess is going to record as i fuck her again for all of you.”

Marceline felt awful, but she couldn't help but get excited by the way Maxxine looked, the tears in her eyes. It was agony for Mar when Ren dropped his pants. Forcing his fingers into Max's mouth, cutting her lips and mouth a little, blood dripping from the cuts and onto the floor. The muffled cries and pain sobered her instantly, her whole body was shaking so perfectly with pain and Ren was enjoying every moment of it. “Wow, so many reactions already.” He let out a small chuckle, pressing the tip of his cock all over her lips, the precum stinging the cut.

He pulled his fingers out, quickly replaced by his length being shoved deep within her mouth, being forced to take all of it his knot the first thrust and being pulled out so slowly, giving an amazing performance for the camera and Marceline. He reached down and grabbed her jawline, using it to go deeper and deeper in her throat, so many so many pretty noises escaping her mouth.

Marceline sat there completely terrified, barely even breathing. She knew better to make any noise or to shake. Her whole body was hot and screaming at her to fight and run. But she couldn't. Watching him violate the woman she had just been violating was torture. It should be her instead of that pathetic mutt, she wanted to fuck her awake and cut her. She spent 4 years in his capture, watching him bring home so many women, making her tie them and cleaning up the bodies, being used whenever he couldn't get anyone, forced to clean up after him. Why couldn't she just have this? She deserved it.

Marceline couldn't control the liquids dripping down her thighs, especially when Max was so hot, her noises filling the air sounded like ecstasy. She noticed that while she was getting used, her eyes weren't fixated on Ren like most, they were on the camera..or maybe Marceline. The heat inside her only grew hotter, noticing Max's eyes were locked on her. She was already dripping, the way he was using her, not even fighting or pulling back. Using her easily.

Just as Marceline had not even an hour ago. Ren dragged her up and down his cock faster, Maxxine's noise more desperate for air. Tears fell from Mar’s eyes, all while she tried to hold the camera still. She never wanted to participate, and it was for this reason.

Tears were running down from Maxxine's face, her eyes rolled back into her skull. Ren grabbed Max by her jaw, forcing her to look at him. He pulled out of Maxxine's throat, rubbing his tip mercilessly on her lips again before squishing her cheeks together. He left out a soft noise that wouldn't be picked up by the camera, as he came all over Max's face, hot white liquid dripping down her, especially her lips. He looked at her with this twisted lust in his eyes which jolted around like a wild animal. He knew he was just out of frame, he pulled down his mask, his face wide with a smile that clearly outlined his sharp teeth. Leaning over the pathetic mess he'd made of her, he forced her mouth open more, spitting into her mouth and pulled his mask back up. She took it gratefully, holding in her mouth for a moment before swallowing all the fluids dripping into her mouth with a smile.

His eyes shot back at the camera and Marceline, whose face was ruined with tears, “Come here bitch. Since you wanna feel so bad, you can join her.” Ren snatched the camera out of her hands, setting it up on his tripod. He turned back to Marceline, flashing the knife in his hand, instantly she started screaming and shaking her head, knowing the horrors of him and his streams. His eyes piercing through her with annoyance “All you do is fucking scream.” Walking closer to Mar, covering her mouth with his hand. Her screams were muffled with her head being pushed into the corner of the desk painfully. He held up the knife again, almost teasing her with it as more and more tears fell. He lifted her shirt and brought the knife to her stomach, dragging the tip slowly over his skin, following the scars that covered her all over.

Marceline's impulses took over her brain, her teeth sank into the flesh between his thumb and fingers. He pulled his hand back, huffling out in pain and staring at his hand. “Fuck! I'll make you pay for that, pet.”, She looked at him, a fierce glint in her eye and a sense of cockiness, which quickly disappeared when she saw the excitement in his eyes, and how hard he was again. He advanced toward her again, the blunt side of the knife pressed against her face, all emotions turned into shaking fear, her eyes shut, weeping even harder than before. Ren stared at her face, how quickly her smugness turned into submission. He dragged the knife down her face, down her neck, down her breast before swiping harshly at the ropes holding her back, letting her go instantly. Her body lunged forward in pain, his haphazard cut sliced deep into her stomach, the blood rushing out of body.

The moment of freedom was quickly interrupted by volts of electricity, ripping through every muscle in her body, completely paralyzing her. Her face hit the pavement of the basement, the coldness of it oddly comforting. She only could feel vibrations of Ren's footsteps approaching her, grabbing her waist and lifting her ass in the air for the camera to see. He looked into the camera while feeling up her ass for his audience. Knife still in hand, he grabbed her and started cutting into her thighs, the blood gushing from the wounds. Her voice was small and she couldn't even scream anymore, just letting out gasps and whines while she slowly started coming back to reality.

When Ren was done having his fun, leaving her all cut up, throwing her body down on the cement. Marceline used the only strength she had to look up at Maxxine, who smiled sweetly down at Mar for a moment. How was she smiling at a time like this? Knowing what Mar did? She was covered in semen, sweat, and spit, and she was smiling??

Coming back to reality, Ren had graciously cut the ropes off Maxxine and grabbed both Mar and Max’s hair by the fist full, slamming their faces to crash into a painful kiss. Marceline could taste the faint remnant of his vile cum, but it didn't matter since her lips got to be against hers. Their hands touched for a moment as the painful kiss turned into making out, tongues slipping into the other's mouth. Their moment of pleasure was suddenly interrupted by Ren forcing his dick in between their drooling lips, the spit and precum pooling under them. Marceline was reluctant to let Ren use her mouth but there was nothing she could do anymore. But Max was still grinning against nothing, rocking her hips so perfectly, giving it her all, she seemed weirdly eager to participate in his sick games. She even reached over to touch Marceline's legs, her whole body jolted at Max's touch, instantly giving into it and craving more. His breathing was heavier as his grip tightened, their faces smashing together for the perfect fleshlight for him. The air was thick and foggy between them, spit and tears everywhere, the only thing they could process was the throbbing fox cock fucking between their mouths.

Without warning he let go of the back of Maxxine's hair, letting her drop to the floor, catching her breath. She looked up to watch Ren grab Marceline’s hair with both hands, fully slamming her mouth down on his cock, cumming all the way down throat. All she could do was push him away, gagging and spitting out what semen she could. “Ah ah ah we don't waste do we, useless pet?” Ren grabbed Maxxine by her hair again, forcing her to kiss Marceline. Maxxine obliged quickly, shoving her tongue down Mar's throat and groping her over her shirt as Ren let more of her hair go. Maxxine started to kiss Marceline’s jawline, moving down to where the last exposed skin was under the collar. Marceline's vision was finally returned to her, she looked down at the stunning woman kissing her body, shivering and bucking her hips out of impulse. Completely blurring everything, taking her lips in a kiss again. Everything felt right for a moment, lifting up her shirt for Max, tossing it down to the floor next to her.

Maxxines hands played with her thighs inching closer to her underwear that were completely soaked. Maxxine stopped for a moment, looked at the camera and smiled, pulling Marceline's underwear off and showing them off in front of the camera before turning back to her. Max was taking in the beauty that was right in front of her, “I wonder if you'll taste as heavenly as you look.” locking eyes with each other with this tantalizing look. She left a trail of kisses as she went lower and lower until she was met with Marceline's clit.

She licked her lips before licking Mar's cunt.

She tasted like pure euphoria, shoving her tongue deep inside her and sucking. Marceline's hands ran through the others hair, all she could do was whimper and bite her lip in response. Max just wanted to chomp down and feast on her skin, she pressed Marceline's thighs as far as they could, getting every angle and inch. She made sure to lick every spot to make sure she wouldn't forget how she tasted, not stopping until she felt her legs twitch and she was screaming.

Tips were rolling in like crazy, comment after comment to do something awful to them. A fairly high paying donation gave him an awful idea. P

Marceline's mind was blank, hot white pleasure filled her body. It was nothing like her own hand or even when she fucked Max's unconscious mouth, it was better than all of it. Her legs being forced open stopped her from shutting her thighs around Max's face, fighting her hands back with all her strength and pathetically losing. Desperate whines left her lips that had never come out of her before, her hips moving faster against Max's mouth. It was obvious to everyone she was close.

She was giving extra attention to Marceline's clit, rubbing precisely where she made the most noises. Her hands ran all over Marceline's body before reaching down to where she was eating. Watching how much Mar's face just reacted to her tongue, she waited until the perfect moment to stick her middle and index fingers inside the other. A wild roar, her eyes jumping to the back of her head. The feeling of her curling her fingers inside, Marceline's whole body shaking.

Ren had gotten the camera on his, getting all the perfect shots. He had to admit how amazing Maxxine's was, it was like she was a natural at this, which was rare. He walked around them to show the viewers every side of their performance, before approaching Max from the back, pointing the camera down at them.

Feeling Marceline huff out and stopped shaking, she lifted her head back up to kiss, before being forced into Marceline's stomach by Ren's boot stepping on the back of head, grinding her face into her fresh cuts which made Marceline yelp out in pain. “Did I tell you to stop? Everyone wants to see you keep going.” Even though he was being so mean his voice still sounded so loving to Maxxine. She listened obediently, the moment Ren removed his boot from her head, she immediately went back to Marceline's cunt.

Marceline yelled out in overstimulation, her head fell back. looking up at the ceiling, wishing that it would all be over soon

Ren's hand went over her eyes, shattering all hope she had, grabbing her hair and forcing her to look down at the purple haired woman. Her eyes filled with tears, pain throbbing all through her body, especially her clit.

With everything going on, they didn't notice Ren, on his knees. Pointing the camera at Maxxine’s ass and running it all the way up her body. He set the tripod up with the safety on the camera pointing at them, he pulled his mask down, smiling down at Max.

He used his free hand to touch Max’s hole, shoving his sharp fingers in without warning, Max screamed out in anguish, lifting her head up from Marceline. He sighed in frustration as he let go of Marceline's hair, pushing her head into the wall and she lunged over in pain. His hand reached down, grabbed the back of Max's head and slammed it back down on Mar's clit. He leaned down to whisper to her “Good girls don't scream.” Maxxine nodded her head in response, making the other twitch wildly, her whining constantly.

His fingers went in and out of Max's viciously fast, blood dripping from inside her before stretching her and pulling out suddenly. He released his grip on her hair and leaned back. He spat on his hand again, using it to lube his cock before pulling the mask up, not that he needed by the way she was dripping with blood.

He grabbed her waist, Maxxine leaving her place for a moment leaving her position, her face dripped with so many different fluids. Without warning, he thrusted his way inside her, making her go back into Mar's wetness. With every moment he forced her to go deeper and deeper inside Marceline. He grabbed her bangs, forcing her to look up at Marceline. Making eye contact with each other, both their eyes dripping with tears.

Overstimulated, Marceline started to scream as Max bounced up and down on her sweet spot. The whines filled the air, Ren thrusted into her roughly. He angled the camera down at the display that he was making of his new pet. He gripped his knife harder as he sliced heart shaped gashes in her skin, her blood stained her pale skin. Marceline cried out as her fingers dug into the cement, her eyes crossing. Vision doubled as an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure swirling inside her mind.

Ren hoisted Maxxine's hips higher, the sudden motion caused Maxxine to reach and grab Marceline’s thighs, her fingers digging deep into her exposed flesh. A new scream roared from her chest as Maxxines nails dug into the raw of her thighs and stomach. Her blood stained Max's hands and drops rolled down her arms. Ren’s hips moved unnervingly fast, almost inhuman and hitting the deepest parts inside her. The moans and whines grew louder into Marceline, the vibrations only giving her more bliss.

Maxxine's grip tightened as Ren’s final push was the deepest and filled her, his dick to be flaring up, stretching the walls of her, “Get up, bitch.” No movement. “Now.” He started staring into Marceline's eyes. She scrambled to her feet, the adrenaline and fear making her ignore the blood running down her legs. Mar looked down at his claws still grouping and roaming Maxxine’s skin, Max took this moment to look at the camera and smile “Go on. Say hi.” he cooed at her.

“hi…chat..” Maxxine waved at the camera, “Isn't she lovely. ” He breathed out of the mask, “Watch.” Ren leaned back so Maxxine was on top of him. He put his hands on her ass, dragging her up and down his length. Maxxine got the memo, she started to move watching Marceline's eyes and reactions to her every move. Maxxine reached her arms out and touched the other woman in front of her, instinctively Ren pulled the knife up and cut her arm. Maxxine winced in pain, holding the gash as blood dripped from her arm, “Don't.” he grunted, “Ask before you act, pet.” The pet name sent shivers down Max's spine, she was getting a sense of deja vu. Ren’s rhythm had slowed down, coming to a stop he pulled out roughly leaving Maxxine dripping with his cum and feeling empty and stretched. He slowly stood up gripping his knife and Maxxine’s hair again, looking at Marceline “Go on horny mutt, use her again. Do it exactly how I found you.”

Ren walked up to Marceline feeling her up,his knife teasing her skin lightly, scraping her torso. Marceline heard a metallic click and felt an agonizingly freeing pain. The shock collar that she wore for 4 years suddenly fell to the ground, the skin on her neck stung from the air, she didn't know what to do. She froze in freedom for only a moment before it was ripped away from her, feeling him gently rest his knife on her neck.

Marceline grabbed Maxxine's hair, and stuck her thumb in her mouth. They made eye contact as Marceline lowered herself back into Maxxine's mouth. She slowly started grinded slowly, embarrassment making all the blood rushing to her face. She could feel Max's tongue pressing against her clit, it made her lose her mind. Her hips picked up in speed, whining louder with every thrust. The pleasure of her mouth made Mar almost forget about the knife at her throat. Her bloody thighs stung at the liquids coating Max's face, but she couldn't help but press them harder into her, getting a mix of her blood and juices in Max's mouth.

Ren watched the screen as the comments and tips pooled in, catching Marceline's eye rolled up into her skull. His hand started to travel up her waist slowly, teasing his nails over her skin, feeling the caked on blood on her before moving his hand up her stomach. She could feel the breathing on her neck even through the mask, terrifying her to the core. Ren's hands grabbing her tit, squeezing it in rhythm with her thrust. “If you want me to play with you like you were playing with yourself before, beg for it.”

“....fuck you.” He pressed the knife into her neck, droplets of blood started to bead, the pain coursing through her body making her pull more at Maxxine's hair. “Wrong answer bitch.” The knife pressed in more, a small stream dripping down her tit that wasn't being groped.

He started to play with her nipple, he watched as her hands never stopped gripping at Maxxine's hair, or trying to touch Maxxine the way he did before. Moaning grew louder, Marceline’s clit throbbing from pleasure, sweat droplets forming and fell down her face, the pain from her cuts just turned into more ecstasy. The world grew blurry, Maxxine never stopped her pace, Marceline only gripped her hair tighter. Her thighs suddenly smashed Maxxine’s face harder, screaming out in pleasure and agony from cumming for the 4th time that night. Shaking against the rhythm of Max's tongue for a final time, sticking out her tongue and leaning forward, the sting of the blade shooting through her made her lean back slightly.

Ren saw that Marceline started to arch her back, shaking. Moving the hand he used to play with her tit to hold the back of her head. He pressed the knife harder into Mar's skin, dragging the knife deep into her leaving her neck gaping and open, red hot blood rushing out of slash. I1t ran down her entire body, the blood rushing to Max's mouth, quickly filling and running all over her face. “We'll call it even now.”

Maxxine could only watch in horror as the previously alive woman fell to the cement ground. “Thank you so much for watching,” He breathed hungrily out, comments pooling in wanting to see more. “Don't worry! An extended version will be up soon! Under a pay wall, of course.” Ren grabbed the camera, turning off the live stream but still recording as he took off his mask. The camera panning over to the deceased woman, the white of her eyes stark in comparison to her kind brown eyes. His claws began digging into her flesh with no care, ripping more and more of her torso open.

“Max be a dear and turn off the lights and hold this” he turned to look at her, his voice almost sickeningly sweet. She stood there stunned before freeing both his hands, he handed Maxxine the camera, and the lights turned off. She focused the camera on the woman who was the only thing that could be seen in the darkness.Ren hunched over the woman's body and started to rip her flesh off with his mouth. Maxxine watched in fear as he swallowed chunks of her torso, she licked the semi dried blood off her lips

Ren cracked and pulled her ribcage out, his face digging deeper into her guts until he started to pull something, he pulled out her heart.

His eyes seemed to glow with hunger and excitement, Maxxines arms dropped as she gasped, he made eye contact with her as he offered Marceline's heart, a faint smile creeped onto his lips, Maxxine looked at the offer. She stepped over to him and took a bite of the heart, his tail wagged in excitement “I knew we'd get along” he flashed a toothy grin at Maxxine, she smiled back.

“I have a better idea.” Maxxine placed the camera on the desk, turned the light back on and pointed it at Marceline's body. Maxxine walked over, got on top of her dead thighs, it felt weirdly good what she was doing and she knew it was wrong but she started grinding on her soft cold flesh, looking up at Ren before licking her lips and taking another chomp of the raw muscle. Swallowing it was tough but she did it with a smile, grinding her hips faster and faster. Ren pulled his mask back up, realizing she still wanted to perform for him. As he stepped into the frame, collar in hand, Ren snatched the back of Maxxine's hair up and slammed her face down into Marceline's exposed guts.

The loud crunch of bones rattled the basement, but felt like explosions in Max’s head. Blood splattered everywhere, but the only thing she could focus on were his hands putting a metal collar around her throat. She grabbed onto Marceline's exposed ribs, his hands trailed down her body, pulling on the waistband of her fishnets, a volt of electricity pulsed through Maxxine's entire body, “Here's the game, you're going to count how many stitches or I'll shock you again, got it? Pet.” She nodded hesitantly, the anticipation of what that actually meant terrified her, laying completely still on the corpse.

Ren reached over for the camera, turning it off, taking off his mask, and putting his pants back on. “Stay put, I'm going to get the sewing kit.” His voice sounded so sweet and excited, smiling down at the bloody woman like this was normal for him, rummaging through the cabinet until he found the first aid kit, humming softly as he walked back with the box. Setting it down on the desk, he grabbed two things from it. He turned perfectly, showing off himself threading a thick black thread through a hook needle. “You might want to have something to bite down on.” He smiled sweetly as he reached behind Maxxine and broke a chunk of Marceline's ribs off and stuffed it in her mouth. He yanked her leg closer to him, his hand softly running across her legs. His yellow eyes meticulously went over each and every scratch and cut. He found the worst cluster of deep cuts, his tail wagged as he grabbed the alcohol bottle and gushed it into her wounds.

All Maxxine could do was grind her teeth into the bone, blood, and flesh slipping down her throat. Ren pressed the needle into the edge of her flesh, a piercing pain roared through her body, a cold numbing pain that shivered in her spine. “1”. He quickly stitched over and over again each stitch bringing her skin too close to itself, the thread burning in her veins.

“23” Maxxine muffled into bone and skin, flipped over on her stomach, he was stitching the heart on her ass back together, embarrassment grew on her face, his hands roamed over her skin, looking for more places to sew. Each stitch felt like it was taking to long and the thread didn't belong, “25”

“Wrong.” He pressed the button with a disappointed sigh, sending a full body shock down her spine, “Don't get dumb now, Maxy.” Her brain felt like it was being fried, he looked down at her, “We still have to get the cut on your inner thigh you're almost done, don't give out now.”

He flipped Maxxine over, holding her leg open, looking down at her like a piece of meat, licking his lips. He let one leg go, looking at the wide gash he'd specifically been saving for last. His tongue traced around the outside of it, the taste of blood still lingering. He was still leaning over the cut as he spat on it, causing her to lip her blood coated lips in pain, small noises falling out. ‘It hurts’ was the only thing playing in her head, the fantasy quickly faded with each stitch.

—

She stood before him, her legs throbbed with unimaginable agony. “Clean up the little mess we made, just put her in the bags down there. You'll get the hang of this in no time. I'm going to be up there to make dinner for us, you better be done when I call for you.” He wiped some of the stiff blood coated hair from her eyes, before hopping up the stairs gleefully, tail swishing behind him.

“Hey Ren..” Maxxine called out before he fully walked away, he turned to look at her from the top step, a blank expression and his tail stopped for a moment. “Are there any more of those recordings? Could we possibly watch them after dinner??” His tail wagged quickly as the smile returned to his face with wide eyes. “Really?? I have a bunch, some of them aren't me, but you'll LOVE them!” His toothy grin was the last thing he flashed as he joyfully jumped up the stairs.

Maxxine started to clean the cement stained a dark red, picking up the knife that was plunged in her not even 3 hours ago to clean her blood off it. Marceline's body, a daunting task, her body was a mangled wreck splattered on the floor and walls. She began with picking up the chunks Ren ripped off, the smell of her dead body becoming more apparent.

Ren was in the kitchen, stirring something while tapping his nails to the rock music he was playing. The scent of steak filled the house, the smell even getting to Maxxine. She was almost done with scrubbing the blood off the floor, tossing the rest in bags. The tools on the ground were the only thing left, she was panicking, forgetting where they belonged. She rushed through the drawers, trying to find someplace they could go, nothing but a horrifying amount of knives and torture items. The click of the burner being turned off and footsteps softly tapping towards her, she shut everything and scrambled to the middle of the room.

“MAXXINE!” The basement door swung open, Ren stood At the top of the stairs. “I don't know where these go..” Maxxine said with her voice shaking, frowning knowing she failed the task. Fear set in as he stepped down the stairs, her eyes fixed on the floor as he got closer, her face feeling hot, he was right in front of her. “Oh, they go over here.” He still had a smile still on his face. He took the tools and showed Maxxine where he kept them, she was confused, he wasn't mad? But she failed? He noticed her confusion, stepped closer to her, “It's okay, you'll learn how things work here.”

He grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers, “You didn't clean yourself up?” Looking up and down her body, the rough patches of torn skin holding together and her ripped fishnets the only things to remain. He dragged her up the stairs, taking her into the bathroom. She looked into the mirror as he took the remaining fishnets off her slowly, making sure to save them for later, her makeup was either all smudged or non-existent. He stuck his hand in the running water making sure it was the right temperature. Her hand reached up, touching the cold piece of metal around her neck. “How am I going to do anything with this collar on?”

“I'm going to bathe you of course! The collar would definitely shock you if we don't take it off, so I have to be in here to watch you!" He spoke as he opened up different smelling bottles, looking at her face, and decided that vanilla was the scent for her. He moved away from the tub and closer to her, he dug a key out of his pocket and put his arms around her, unlocking the collar on her. It came undone and set it on the bathroom counter before gently putting her in the warm water, pouring water gently over her hair, slowly cleaning the horrors off her. His hands scrubbed in shampoo into her scalp, his claws careful and precise.

“Thank you..” She muttered out quietly, Ren looked down at her with an assumed look, “See, doesn't that feel better? I couldn't stand the smell of you before.” The water turned an orangish brown as he cleaned her. Being rinsed off for a final time, she looked down at the water and soap rolling off to reveal the stitches that burned like hell. “There you go! Good as new.” He barked out with excitement, holding her hand as he helped her step out of the tub.

He draped a towel over her skin and tied up her damp hair. He stepped away from her a moment before he slipped the collar back around her neck with a metallic click. “I'm going to go get you new clothes, dry off a bit more.” With his last command, he left. Maxxine dried herself off and looked around the bathroom, and the cabinets, nothing she could use.

Ren opened the door to the bathroom, clothes in his hands. He helped her arms into a white tank top, taking his time to feel up her chest, before grabbing the black pair of underwear. He got on his knees as she stepped into each of the leg holes, looking up at her and getting the best angle of her. He slowly pulled it up, taking in the beauty of both her and the art he put all over her body.

Finally dressed, he took her hand and kissed it, “I made dinner downstairs just for you.” Interlocking their fingers, he led her into the dining room, a room she hadn't seen before. On the table there was a single plate with steak with mushrooms, asparagus, and potatoes with gravy. He sat her at the table in front of the dish and he sat in the chair next to her, she couldn't deny it looked delicious, “Go on. Take a bite." He held out a bite on his fork for Maxxine to try, he watched her mouth and her lips wrapped around the fork, she took the food in her mouth.

Ren's eyes fixated on her mouth as she swallowed and spoke, “Thank you… it's really good.” She wasn't lying, she ate it gratefully chewing on it. He brought another full bite to her lips, she realized she wasn't getting out of this, she opened her mouth and took another bite nervously.

Bite after bite, she took the food she was given down as it filled her up more. Ren smiled with his canines visible, wished he had his camera to record her but he knew he'd have plenty of chances to watch her. Quickly the food disappeared from the plate, he was able to keep his stature but his tail was thrashing around in his chair. There were 2 bites left, she shook her head at him, turning her head away from the fork, “Please, I'm full.”

Anger furrowed in his brow, his grip increased on the fork before he grabbed onto the top of her hair, yanked Max's head back against the chair. “No. I put so much love and care in this, you can't.” her head against the chair forced her lips apart, letting out a small whimper that was interrupted by the fork being shoved into her mouth. “I made it just for you, you're going to eat every bite.” All she could do was chew, feeling nauseous, he let her go, sitting back in his seat, smiling like nothing had just happened.

“One more bite, and then we can watch recordings together and snuggle.” Max gladly nodded, still trying to chew through the food that was already in her mouth. Maxxine could barely swallow before Ren had the fork at her lips, she hesitantly opened her mouth. A shiver went through her whole body as she chewed through it, his eyes joyful watching every second of it. “Good girl, I knew you could do it. Now we can go watch TV” he took her hand as she swallowed, dragging her suddenly, leaving the plate to clean up later. He sat Max's on the couch, sitting directly next to her, feeling the heat she was radiating. He grabbed the remote, turning the TV to the other hdmi before selecting a video.

“I have this guy named Strade, his snuff films are great, you're going to love it! ”

His arm stretched over Maxxine getting cozy with her, hand roaming her thigh. The TV flashed a skull mask for a moment before showing a tied up and bound woman in the basement they were in, “Is that the basement here??” Inching closer to the TV, “Yeah it is” his arms slid down her back and around her back making her shiver, “Woah” she gasped in amazement. “I knew you were going to love it.”

Screams came from the tv as a man fucked the womans eye socket, holding her eye in his hand. Max figured she didn't have to worry about the damage from last night, but worry for the damage in the future. She leaned her head on his, looking down at him they both smiled softly before sharing a sweet loving kiss, his sharp teeth grazed her top lip. Maybe her new life won't be that awful.

Maxxine could last to make a few more videos ...right?

I would love to thank marce for beta reading and editing this story and being so hot without her help this story wouldn't be what it is, I <3 LOVE YOUUUUU

[siriannatan]

Downsides of Dating a Dragon - WitherHusbands

I woke up. Had an idea. And now I have a morning one-shot. Nice. (it's like 10 in the morning here when I'm posting this :})

fWhip would be the death of his, Sausage decided one lazy, gloomy, Grimlands morning. Not because of what most would think. While fWhip was a walking accident and Sausage was called over by his advisors to physically drag the half-dragon out his lab, kicking, screaming, whining and begging included, more than once a week that would not be it. No. What would get him was how clingy fWhip was in his sleep.

Now, Sausage in the slightest did not mind cuddling his best friend, closest ally - all official titles, boyfriend - unofficially so Gem does not murder him. But sharing a bed with fWhip did come with some dangers.

He rarely filed his claw-like nails. They simply did not bother him and were good if his scales itched. Speaking of. fWhip's scales had these neat sharp edges that wore out his shirts pretty quickly but also left Sausage covered in tiny red scratches almost every morning after sharing a bed with fWhip. Another, and probably rather bizarre thing was... fWhip liked to mark his territory even in his sleep so Sausage sometimes woke up in the middle of the night to fWhip biting him. Nothing dangerous but he had rather sharp teeth so it hurt.

But no, none of those would be what takes Sausage off. What was about to do it at any time were fWhip's horns. As much as Sausage loved the two pointy, dark horns poking from fWhip's hair and how easy they made putting him to sleep they were really pointy and sharp. And fWhip really, really didn't like anyone but Sausage messing with them because they were shockingly sensitive. Must have been a dragon thing. No goat Sausage ever met minded their horns being filed. 

So Sausage sometimes, when fWhip managed to wiggle out his hold, woke up with horns near his neck and jaw and a happy fWhip purring into his chest. And maybe, just maybe, he thought fWhip was too cute like this to ever complain about the horns. And damn warm. Like really warm even if he was a rather sharp individual. "Och," Sausage whined when one horn poked his jaw in a rather painful way. He was sure there would be blood but he didn't really care all that badly about it.

Not with fWhip suddenly sitting up. Eyes wide. Hair an absolute mess. Utterly adorable even if shocked, call Sausage a sadist if you like, he just liked fWhip's face no matter the expression. "Sausage...? You're bleeding!" fWhip panicked, getting even cuter.

"It's nothing," Sausage yawned and cast a simple healing spell. Being blessed by a god was often a good thing unless there was an evil-god-possessed-demon elf around. "I'm already fine, see," he grinned but it did not seem to lessen any of fWhip's worries. "Spark? fWhip? It's all fine, I'm okay," he tried assuring but fWhip's adorable frown - maybe he was a bit of a sadist...- got even frownier. 

"I could have stabbed your neck," fWhip huffed in annoyance, gently resting one hand around Sausage's neck. "That's not 'nothing' or 'fine'. Why haven't you said anything sooner?" he asked with another sad sigh.

"I'm not that delicate," Sausage smiled, rubbing comforting circles on fWhip's hips under his sleep shirt. Being a  half-dragon, and as warm as he was, fWhip did not like being cold. Bonus reason to avoid visiting Rivendell. "I'm aware enough to wake up before anything happens. Your cute biting does wake me up sometimes," he grinned and fWhip instantly blushed. Cute. Very, very cute.

"I... I do not... Do I?" fWhip tried protesting but ultimately pouted out a sheepish question.

"Don't worry, you usually keep it to where I can cover it with my shirt," Sausage chuckled. "And it's very flattering. And cute," he added.

That fWhip did protest. He was absolutely not cute. He was the Count of Grimlands and a half-dragon. Cute was the last thing anyone should think when looking at him. This time Sausage let him have a win. He was too cute to argue with, even if he was utterly adorable when angry.

[outlanderalien]

Make love through war.

Part 1

Kurotsuchi Mayuri / Kenpachi Zaraki, Kenmayu, Zayuri

Short ficlet, might follow up with a pt2 later down the line...

The unconventional start of a relationship between two ultra violent monsters and their insatiable bloodlust.

CW: Violence, S&M

[AO3 LINK]

_____

"S-..Subarashii..." Mayuri gasped as blood flooded his lungs "Your strength.. truly is a marvel to behold.."

Zaraki didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the golden eyes of the man he'd just impaled.

"At a loss for words?" Mayuri smiled "You should be..." He choked back blood "The dose I administered earlier should have incapacitated you entirely..."

He relaxed slightly, letting the weight of his body hang on the sword embedded in him, causing him to let out a shaky gasp that excited Zaraki.

"But, my, my..." Mayuri hummed as he stretched his hand out, placing it on Zaraki's with a half-lidded glance. "Beast that you are..." He pulled the blade deeper into himself "You simply brute forced your way through it..."

Their faces now inches apart, Zaraki's expression was stoney and intense, unmoving as though possessed. Mayuri leaned in closer, examining every detail through half closed eyes, he could feel the brutes hot breath on him.

"Ah, paralysed at last are you.. ?" He almost sounded disappointed "You must be in exquisite agony... But I suppose even a savage like you must have your limits-- Gh-!!"

The blade twisted unexpectedly inside him, rendering him speechless.

"You talk too much." That deep growl made Kurotsuchi shiver.

Zaraki unsheathed the sword from Mayuris anatomy, letting him crumble to the floor. They were both breathing hot and heavy, battered and bloody.

This fighting had been a recurring event ever since their very first battle. Something happened during that time that neither could've anticipated. No matter how much Zaraki mutilated Mayuri, he could never truly kill him, he'd just slink away and regenerate. And no matter how many poisons Mayuri tested on Zaraki, he always found a way to confound Kurotsuchi and his scientific method.

For each it was as though they had found a new toy, one that could never bore them, and one they could never truly break.

As time passed, something in the air changed between them. In the midst of all the stabbing, biting, clawing, mauling, poisoning, mutilating... there was intimacy. It was fierce and erotic, bloody and lustful, agonising and orgasmic.

"Are you gonna regenerate or what." Zaraki grunted.

"My word, you are insatiable." The scientist lay broken on the hard ground, smiling weakly. "I haven't the time to keep playing with you, besides it's going to take a while for me to regenerate after all that." He tutted "Honestly, the pain you've put me through..."

"You feel pain?" Zaraki had always figured that he'd have had those inefficient nerves removed.

"Excruciating~" Mayuri beamed sickly. Many questions Zaraki had were answered with that one reply.

With a sigh, Kenpachi turned to make his leave.

"Oh? Leaving already..?"

"The fight's done."

"and don't you want the spoils of war?"

Kenpachi halted, he knew exactly what he meant, though he wouldn't turn to face him again.

"Such a pain..." Mayuri continued in a playful tone "I'm entirely helpless in this state... One could truly take advantage of me like this~"

"Get a hold of yourself." Zaraki snarled "I don't fuck corpses."

"Ah, just like a savage then. You prefer them kicking and screaming~"

Zaraki didn't dignify that.

Wordlessly he continued his exit, bloodlust still running high, and nowhere to put that energy, nowhere he was prepared to yet anyway.

"Another time, perhaps" Mayuri teased.

Alone, Mayuri lay in his own pooling blood, irritation began to wash over his lust like a bucket of cold water. "Honestly..." He muttered to himself "I have much work to do on those poisons... Truly laughable results..."

He too now had a lot of energy that will go to waste, and coming down from that high left his ego in tatters.

"Ungrateful savage. I don't offer myself to just anyone..." He suddenly felt the crushing embarrassment of rejection all at once, which quickly turned into burning anger.

"I will have to make a very special concoction for that brute..." He began plotting sadistic poisons and traps for their next battle, giddy at the thought of bringing Zaraki to his knees...

...

"That bastard." Zaraki muttered to himself as he returned to the barracks. "Mocking me like that. Sick freak." His mind was still on the visage of Mayuri draped on his sword, moaning indulgently.

He had to stop his mind wandering further. The things he held himself back from doing during that fight... And despite his restraint Mayuri had to go and tease him like that at the end.

"Tch..."

Next time I'll give him what he wants. His mind was still stuck on all the ways he wanted to break Mayuri, and all those shrill whines and moans he makes... I'll give him what he wants alright...

[lustfilledsinner]

I wake up to a hand on my face and a knife against my throat. Both your arms are wrapped around me in a tight embrace. It's hard to breathe, but that's not the first thing I notice. Instead, my attention is immediately on your bulge rubbing against me, your groaning right in my ear. Despite my best efforts, I can't help but let out a whimper, leading you to realize I'm awake. Like flipping a switch, I'm suddenly underneath you. I feel a shiver running down my spine at seeing you in a mask, face entirely hidden in the dark. I recognize you, but I also don't. It's fucking terrifying. I try to scream, but before I know it, you're stuffing my mouth with your fingers, telling me to shut up, stay still, and be good for you. You tell me that you just have to do this, you can't hold back. Even though you've clearly got the advantage through size and the knife in your hand, I struggle, bite your fingers. You don't hesitate, immediately pulling away and cutting open the flimsy shirt I wore to sleep, before slashing away at my skin as well. I whine, beg for you to stop. It hurts. But you keep going until you're satisfied, all the while using your other hand to hold me down by the throat. Too focused on your chokehold, clawing at your hand in an attempt to get out of it, I don't notice the way the blade trails down my torso, right to my thighs, to my aching cunt. When it seems like I'm losing consciousness, barely still struggling in your hold, you let go and move further down, spreading my legs and using the back of the knife to trace my slit. You comment on how wet I am, what a good slut I am for you, how disgusting it is to get so wet from this shit. You slap it once, twice, three times, and finally I start trying to move away again, squirming. You laugh at my weak attempts to escape you, using the knife to cut my thigh again in warning. I groan, breathing heavy, and you can see me clench around nothing. You comment that I must want your cock so, so bad, that my body's betraying me, no matter what I do, you can see what I really want. I beg for you not to, but you just slap my face and tell me to shut up, to take it like I'm supposed to. Despite my wetness, I feel so, so tight around you. I squirm and kick, and you realize I'm crying, telling you it hurts so, so bad. You tell me a painslut like me should know how to take it, that you're doing this for me. You're teaching me what a good toy should be like. Always ready for you, whenever you want it. You fuck into me at a ruthless pace, gently stroking my cheek a couple times before following it up with some rough hits. It doesn't take long before I'm cumming under you, clinging to you because of how sensitive I'm feeling, just repeating 'please' over and over again, crying more and more with each thrust. You take your time of course, getting off just the way you want to, holding me down however long it takes. When you've finally had enough, I cling to you like a lifeline, thanking you for how wonderfully you teach me, for the fucked up shit you're willing to do to me, for how lovely you are. You tell me to just close my eyes and go back to sleep, comforting me until I do eventually find myself dreaming again.

My fucking god this got me so fucking hard reading this! Fuck definitely gonna read this over and over again~

[lifesver]

@johnnysslaughter said: 🔪   //   put  a  knife  to  my  muse’s  throat .

he has johnny down on the ground, knee jammed below ribs, cracking him across the face once, twice, three times — satisfied, only when johnny spits up blood. newly split knuckles pulse and sting, his heartbeat is screaming in his ears. leland scrabbles for kitchen knife, dropped in the struggle — forces the edge of it all the way down to johnny's throat, against the resistance of johnny's bruising grip on his wrist.

❝ i'll fucking kill you, i swear to god — ❞ he snarls through his teeth. kill him, you have to kill him —

johnny laughs, because of course he does — all bloodied teeth, the maw of a jackal. taunting him with his own brutality; 'there it is. all that anger. the-ere's the killer. doesn't that feel better?

sticky-sweet mocking in that low drawl. he doesn't think you'll do it.

❝ shut up, just — shut the fuck up! ❞ he hisses wildfire frustration, trying to force the knife down harder.

you fall for it, you always do, don't you?

it takes only a moment's hesitation, of overthinking, and johnny, like a feral fucking animal, sinks teeth into leland's forearm — makes him cry out from the shock of it, try to rip away from him. but johnny catches him roughly by the wrists with another low laugh. kitchen knife is wrenched from his grip.

johnny reverses them in one quick movement. shoves him into the dirt, hard. arm across his throat, knife pressing up under his chin, close enough to draw a hairline of blood.

aw, so close, he coos. you're gettin' better.

leland growls — kicks, thrashes where he's been pinned, spits blistering curses up at him. johnny leans down over him with a maddening laugh, and leland's knuckles whiten with the effort of keeping the edge of his blade from cutting any deeper.

you really are stupid. he might really kill you, this time.

what the fuck does it matter? if you're going to be tortured like this? if every escape attempt ends in johnny, dragging him subdued and half-conscious, back to the cells. all at once, he feels like his chest crushes itself into a tight fist. expression flickers, miserable, bitter. his grip loosens unconsciously — and johnny could slit his throat here and now, but he doesn't. again, dangles his life by a string, reminds him of who's in control. who has always been in control, will always be stronger, will always win, in the end. he wondered, how many times did he have to try and fail, to push back against what he wanted from him, before johnny lost his patience?

he's tired, frustrated. maybe he should just accept it; he isn't getting out of this place. not alive, anyway. ( — and what if you do? that brand carved into your skin will always remind you, and anyone else. )

❝ — why don't you just fucking kill me? ❞ eyes cold, brimming — still writhing, trying to knee at him, digging short fingernails into the man's arm. chest heaves with his sharp, jagged breaths and jackhammering heart.

he uses the last of his breath to explode at johnny; ❝ — why maria? why me? ❞ demand resounds around the cold tunnels. oh, but you? you were dumb and hopeful enough to believe him, when he said he wanted to help — because you got yourself caught — because you're nothing but a project to him. just another toy to break, like any one of the corpses in this basement — ( you don't like believing the other thing. the thing he keeps trying to tell you. you're not like him — you're not, you won't be, never — )

johnny is keeping him exactly where he is — and he's struggling himself ragged, gasping, kicking up the dust as he claws a hand into johnny's shirt, drags him closer purposely. so that the knife bites into his skin again, eyes wild and hateful and grief-stricken. challenging him; ❝ fucking. do it! fucking kill me! come on! ❞ he felt like he was going crazy. he wanted to scream it; stop torturing me, stop dragging this out —

his head is pounding, the restriction of air is making him hazy. his struggling weakens, and he drops his head back into the dirt, angry, but defeated. white flag. fucking mercy, again. leland blinks dizzy, glassy eyes, breath shuddering. he meets johnny's dark gaze, searches it for something. speaks quietly, with cold, chest-scraping sincerity;

❝ why — why the hell — won't you kill me? ❞

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Well, I was going to write more fanfic, but the cat took over my lap again lol

Part of me thinks I should clean up my desk and set that up with my desktop and get an actually comfortable/usable office chair so I can have room for kitty cats on the lap and still have a keyboard in front of me, but something tells me he'd figure out how to get in the way of that, too :P

Ah, well. Have a self-insert-plus-OC fight scene below the cut, because I want to share it and I can ;D

Now armed, Bobbi was back on the road, that much more prepared to face whatever the fuck this terrifying new world had to throw at her.

Did you guess zombies? Because it was zombies.

"How the fuck did they sneak up behind me?!"

"Less complaining, more running!"

Bobbi almost said something on reflex. Instead, she saved her breath for making her escape. It only took seconds before her lungs and muscles started burning. Still, she ran as fast as she could for far longer than she thought she was capable of. Something to be said for adrenaline and survival instincts.

The zombies were faster, but most of them didn't care to give chase. Or they were too zombified to notice. Bobbi wasn't about to bitch if only about half a dozen out of twenty wanted to follow her.

One got way too close and she turned, sword leading so she could lop its head off. The fact that she succeeded was the biggest miracle of the day. But that attack cost her, and another zombie jumped in from the side—only to get caught in an intricate silver latticework that held it in place. Bobbi squared up, both hands gripping the hilt of her sword, and when the latticework dropped the zombie, she cut that one's head off, too.

"Excellent team work!" the bracelet said, the glow of satisfaction rich in her voice. Two more zombies rushed in from either side, and Bobbi turned to the faster one, blade up between it and her. It raked at her with golden claws, tore down her arm and made her bite back a scream. Through sheer force of will, she held onto her sword and cut the zombie's arm off, then kicked it as hard as she could in its chest.

It fell back, and that silver latticework from before formed into a spear that pierced it through the heart. Bobbi turned to the zombie behind her, swung her sword so the blade cut into the zombie's arm—wrong angle to cut it off, but it didn't get her and that's what mattered.

It shambled past, gave Bobbi enough time to brace herself and go on the offensive. She cut across its back, and by some miracle it stumbled enough that she could reach its head and neck for another decapitation.

How many was that?

"You've an opening; run!"