#rip madam zipper croc

[galacticbratwrites]

Kiss Prompt #23

“23 you taste raw anomaly meat”

A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Pairing: Taiga Hoshibami/Fem!MC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,506

Description: If I’m cementing my place as a Taiga writer, I may as well show off why I’m his wife. Requested by a dear friend of mine who has been a fellow Taiga wife for about as long as I have. This scene follows the campus interaction where you find him eating meat off the sidewalk like a homeless gay. Blood, violence, a chase and takedown. He’s a predator, what more do you need?

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

She needed no reminder that this particular Captain wasn’t human. Still, that didn’t stop the chill that raced down her spine when that particular rasp tore from his throat.

The one of pure hunger. He didn’t seem sated by the anomaly corpse in his hand.

Well.

Corpse would definitely be the word for it, soon. For now, it wriggled, something raw and pink still pulsating, beating in his hand. He hunched on the ground over it, pupils blown wide in that unblinking stare of his. Then, as it pulsated again, its scales shifted.

Scales?

The bow usually affixed to the female Zipper Croc’s head caught the light from between Taiga’s fingertips, and the girl’s stomach lurched.

Whatever void it was that consumed his mind when he was like this, it didn’t recognize her. She knew that much.

Upon spotting him, her first instinct was to freeze. If she didn’t make a sound, she was of no consequence, and hopefully, in whatever trance he was in, he would stumble past with his prize and ignore her.

She hadn’t been counting on his heightened senses, and that nose of his—he could smell her a mile away.

“…Who the fuck’re you?”

Shit. Even with her scent, he couldn’t tell who she was. This was bad.

Her eyes widened even before the click of the gun this time, as the ragged edge of his breathing dragged across her insides, fogging her lungs with anxiety.

“Scram. Unless you got a death wish.”

He’d forgotten she was already dead, in the eyes of Darkwick Academy. Hadn’t he?

She wanted to believe, maybe not. She stepped closer despite the gun.

“What the fuck are you eating?!”

It took the harshness of her tone, her refusal to back down, for him to look twice at her. Normal people didn’t do that shit, anyway.

“Not enough, that’s what…”

He lowered and re-holstered the gun, head tilting as he got a good look at her. Then, sticking his hand into the jaw of the crocodile corpse, he turned and began to drag it away. Presumably, to enjoy it in peace.

The honor student rushed to step in front of him, cutting him off as her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Why are you like this?”

“Hungry? Fuck knows.”

“How do we fix it?”

“What?” He blinked, before a grimace twisted the bloody edges of his mouth down. “The fuck are you on about?”

“How do I help you?”

“There ain’t no helping that.”

“So I should give up like you obviously have? This can’t be fun for you, I can hear it in your voice. You sound like the hunger hurts.”

Another rattling rasp escaped his lips as he snarled.

“Y’ain’t got no clue what’s fun for me, kitty cat.”

So he did remember her.

Which made the smack of the heavy crocodile corpse’s scales all the more threatening as he dropped it to the ground, a sickening smile spreading across his lips as he approached.

“I’m a man of taste.”

Something was wrong. He remembered her, but the hunger in his eyes didn’t dissipate. He looked ready to eat her instead of the anomaly he’d just hunted.

So she ran, boots thunking down the pavement of the campus pathways, lit brightly by the lamps lining the sidewalk. 

It was something out of a horror movie. No matter her speed, every glance behind her revealed Taiga, following steadily on his long legs, pace unhurried. Like he could catch up by simply walking.

Turning a corner, she veered off the pathway. She slipped wordlessly through the underbrush of the campus woods, hoping he didn’t hear her slip into the foliage.

The crunching of leaves behind her dissuaded that notion, and she began to panic again.

This time, as she took off running again, it was on uneven ground. She couldn’t tell if she’d put herself at an advantage or disadvantage by making the terrain harder to navigate.

Evidently, from the increasing volume of her pursuer, he wasn’t much disadvantaged, if at all. He crashed through the foliage as he followed, no gentle man of pushing branches aside, avoiding harming plants as the honor student did. If she wasn’t already running for her life, she’d have sworn she saw a small tree uproot behind her in his fury.

“Go away!”

“Give up,” he growled in retort, and this time he pounced. A true predator.

It was clear from his efficient takedown that she’d been toyed with this whole time, allowed to run from him as entertainment. Clearly, some demented game of cat and mouse. Both of her wrists were locked solidly to her chest by one strong hand, the other braced above her head to keep him from falling completely on top of her.

His eyes were still vacant and hungry as he leaned down, dragging his nose roughly along the line of her neck and sniffing deeply.

“Just a little taste,” he murmured, and ice seemed to flood through her veins again.

‘I could die here.’

He froze for a moment, eyes focusing onto hers for the first time since this whole ordeal started, and he seemed to brim with… conflict. Confusion furrowed his brow for a second, and then, slowly, tentatively, he released her hands to trace his finger across her lips.

Blood from the Zipper Croc transferred from the contact, the red triggering him to follow his finger with his tongue, trailing it hotly against her skin before he did the unthinkable.

He kissed her. Maybe unintentionally at first, from the placement of their mouths, but his lips only disconnected from hers for half a second before they returned. Maybe it was because he hadn’t noticed the mouth he was trying to clean up the anomaly’s blood with was only covered in it and further contributing to the spread.

Whatever the case, it didn’t change that he kissed her.

He was kissing her, again and again, as if he was testing the feeling of it, sampling her lips.

Oh, fuck. Was she kissing back?

He’d released her hands, and in her shock she’d remained frozen in place, her hands crushed to his chest as his body pressed flat to hers.

He was kissing her, and as her hands found his shoulders, she realized she didn’t want to push him off.

She gripped his suspenders and finally kissed him back, and the moment her lips moved against his, she nearly winced at the taste.

She’d heard crocodile blood was used as a medicine. This was probably the least conventional administration of it, of all time.

Kissing Taiga wasn’t like kissing a boyfriend. He wasn’t gentle, reverent. Even when the kiss was soft, he wasn’t in any way patient or kind. It was a torturous dance of pressure and skin. It was a silent challenge to keep up. The kisses came fast, the pressure intermittent, wild. He didn’t kiss continuously. Each kiss was separate, in the way you’d take smaller bites of a decadent treat you wanted to savor.

She didn’t know what came over her. Maybe some sort of impulse for revenge or an attempt to match his ferocity, but the next time his lips tried to leave hers, she nipped at him in protest.

A growl left his lips, and he moved on top of her, shifting so his legs pinned hers instead of laying entwined on the ground, hands moving to grip her shoulders and slam her firmly into the dirt of the forest floor.

When he kissed her again, it was different. This time, his lips lingered, a steady pressure as they massaged hers. There was no pulling back from this kiss anymore as his tongue slipped into her mouth, flooding her with the taste of raw anomaly. Her own tongue ran tentatively along his in return, and she felt him shiver with delight.

The blood was thick on his lips. It ran all down his front, covered his hands and nose and cheeks, and it tasted foul and bitter like rust. It was thick, probably to help the Zipper Croc with clotting and healing wounds in the wild—not that any sort of evolutionary trait would match up to the way Taiga had that thing ripped open on the concrete, still alive.

Pinned to the ground. Still wriggling. Still alive. Just as she was right now.

She wondered how long she’d stay that way.

“I thought you were going to kill me,” she breathed against his lips as he finally pulled back.

He was staring through her a bit less when he responded, swallowing thickly.

“Nah. Don’t wanna.”

“Then what do you want?”

He grunted, licking his lips as he studied the girl beneath him.

“Stupid question,” he said before leaning down, his teeth trailing along the side of her neck before sloppily kissing along the same path.

Despite his dismissal of the question, something about his silence seemed contemplative as his lips trailed bloody kisses up her throat, landing at her ear when he finally answered.

“I’m gonna make you scream.”