The golden calamari rings featuring accidental flirtation looked fantastic! If I may, I’d like to order the same accidental flirting with Leona and Ruggie—to my understanding, lion courtship involves nuzzling and grooming, and a lioness may initiate play-fighting if she believes a male has not noticed or been receptive to her signals. Hyena courtships are marked by decreased aggression from a female, and she may share meals or perform grooming behaviors upon a male in order to invite him to court.
Ah, esteemed patron! Welcome back to the Lounge.
My goodness, you have returned with research again! A truly discerning guest appreciates the deepest flavors of their ingredients. The concept of accidental resource-sharing and nuzzling based on actual beastman lore? That is a gourmet, five-star addition to our menu.
We are delighted to serve you a second plate of Golden Calamari Rings, focusing on our most... primal... ingredients. We will observe the clash between human affection and beastman instinct.
Serving: Accidental Beastman Courtship
🦁 Leona Kingscholar
Leona’s reaction is deeply instinctual and possessive. He is a lion, and his life revolves around territory, dominance, and the clear communication of the pride. Nuzzling and challenging play-fights are essential courtship markers.
The Scenario: You approach him while he’s studying (or napping—it doesn’t matter). You’re frustrated with a concept, or perhaps just craving comfort, and you sigh, approaching him from the side. You gently nuzzle your head into his shoulder, leaning your weight against him for support (the human equivalent of grooming/cuddling). Or, you might slap his chest playfully, annoyed he’s ignoring you (the "play-fight" initiation).
The Reaction: He snaps awake, instantly alert. His emerald eyes open wide, focused with raw intensity. His tail, which was still, begins a slow, deliberate wag—the silent, primal acknowledgment of a signal received. He doesn't need to ask what you’re doing. His mind just processes: Signal Received. Courtship Initiated. He won't be flustered; he will be satisfied. He respects the directness of the action.
The Aftermath: He will drop whatever he was holding, hook a heavy arm around your waist, and gently but firmly pull you across his lap. He will then bury his face in your hair/neck and begin to nuzzle you back, rubbing his cheek against yours (the official "grooming" reply). "Took you long enough, herbivore," he'll mutter, his voice thick with possessive satisfaction. "Didn't think you'd be so forward." He is delighted by the clear communication. He’s going to initiate this constantly now, assuming you are just a wonderfully direct partner.
🍩 Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie’s reaction is one of absolute suspicion followed by deep confusion. His entire world is transactional; nothing is free. Hyena courtship, marked by resource sharing and decreased aggression, is a massive signal that, if given by a non-hyena, sends his street-smart brain into overdrive.
The Scenario: Ruggie has just bought a limited-edition doughnut (or pie, or snack). You walk up and, without asking, gently hand-feed him a piece of it yourself (the "sharing meal" ritual). Or, you notice a speck of flour on his ear and gently brush it away with your thumb (the "grooming" behavior).
The Reaction: He freezes mid-chew. His ears pin back, and his tail stops flicking. His eyes narrow, suspicious. "Shishishi... okay, what's the angle? You just gave me the good part. You trying to distract me?" His hyena brain processes: Voluntary Resource Sharing. Zero Aggression. Grooming Behavior. This is not a scam; this is a signal. He's immediately confused and slightly embarrassed. He won't know how to react.
The Aftermath: He will get very quiet. He won't refuse the food, but he'll stammer. "H-Hey! Okay, thanks! But... uh... we're not... we're not courting, are we? This is... a bit much for resource management." He will assume you just made a major, serious move that indicates total dedication. He’ll treat you with deep, protective respect, afraid to accidentally "reject" the courtship signal. He will start to secretly leave "gifts" (scavenged or "found" items of value) on your desk, fulfilling his own side of the perceived resource-sharing contract. He is totally flustered, but convinced he has been chosen.
A "dish" served with exquisite research and delightful animal instinct! The kitchen is so pleased to have served this second portion.
We do hope this Golden Calamari Rings dish was to your liking, and we eagerly await your next visit to our Lounge!
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Author's Note: More of Karlsor in Living Waters AU.
Summary: Karlsor, alone in the deep sea, hones his predatory instincts and Psyker powers while hunting alien, Warp-tainted creatures, reveling in the thrill, survival, and raw dominance over his environment, even as a greater threat lurks nearby.
Warning: Graphic violence and gore (feeding, killing), Body horror and alien/otherworldly creatures, Themes of hunger, bloodlust, and predatory behavior, Mild psychological intensity (Warp influence, stalking presence). LMK if I need to add anything else.
The first kill had been small—just a school of fish—but it had reminded him that he was alive, that his body worked, that his mind was still sharp despite sunburn and broken ribs. The hunger persisted, gnawing beneath his chest plate, reminding him that survival demanded more than scraps.
He dove deeper, letting the briny water envelope him. Currents pulled at him, strong and erratic, but Karlsor adapted. He reached out with his Psyker senses, letting his awareness slide through the water, stretching tendrils of thought, feeling the life around him. Tiny pulses of movement registered—a crab, a small predator hiding among coral—but more than that, something alien, warped, radiating faint heat and psychic unease.
Hunger sharpened into predatory focus. He launched, slicing through water with inhuman speed. Claws tore through flesh, teeth snapped through bone. The taste of living flesh—warm, slick, resistant—was ecstasy. He devoured it without hesitation, shoving past instinctive revulsion. Every kill reinforced the rhythm: hunt, kill, consume, heal, survive.
The Warp whispered again. Subtle now, in tremors and flickers, in the almost imperceptible vibration of the water. He paused, eyes narrowing. The reef in the distance seemed to pulse with a sickly glow, coral twisted into grotesque shapes, whispers curling through his mind like smoke. Something moved among it, too large, too wrong. His instincts screamed: avoid it. But hunger and curiosity—two equally dangerous predators in themselves—nipped at him.
A shadow detached itself from the reef—a leviathan, pale and sinewy, with eyes that burned faintly violet. Warp-taint radiated off it in waves. It knew him. It hunted him. Karlsor felt the thrill tighten his chest. This was no mere beast. This was something the Warp had touched, something that could shred flesh and soul alike. And yet… it moved slowly, deliberately, as though testing him, waiting for him to make the first mistake.
He grinned—or at least as close as a Night Lord could manage underwater. Teeth bared. Tail flicking, muscles coiled. He sent ripples of psychic energy through the currents, shaping the water to push the leviathan closer, confusing its senses. The creature hesitated, shrieking in psychic resonance that grated against his mind. Delicious.
Karlsor lunged. Water exploded around him as claws met scales. Teeth sank into the alien flesh, shredding, tasting, pulling. The leviathan fought, but he was faster, sharper, more hungry. The Warp rippled around them, echoing the violence, amplifying his senses, sharpening his focus, feeding the raw, primal joy of predation.
Even as the leviathan thrashed, he sensed more: currents swirling, movement in the shadows, flickers of unnatural light from the reef. More predators. More threats. But he was not afraid. Fear was a luxury he had shed long ago on Nostramo. Survival demanded hunger, cunning, and ruthlessness—and he had all three in abundance.
Finally, with a guttural roar, he ended the struggle. The leviathan floated limp in the water, still twitching. He tore into it, feeding not only his body but his rage, his satisfaction, his claim over the sea. The Warp hummed faintly around him, amused, perhaps even impressed. Perhaps mocking. He did not care.
Hours passed—or days, time blurred in the deep. Karlsor hunted, fed, healed, and hunted again. His Psyker senses grew keener, his control over currents more precise. The cursed reef loomed ever closer, whispering threats, broadcasting horrors he could not yet fully comprehend. And yet, he survived. He thrived.
Above him, the sun rose and fell. Pain in his sunburned scales flared and faded. Hunger returned. Shadows shifted. Warp-taint whispered.
And in the distance, faintly, almost imperceptibly, another pulse: larger, slower, more intelligent. Something waited. Something far worse than the leviathan he had just devoured.
Karlsor’s lips curled into a grin.
Good.
Predator. Psyker. Night Lord. Alive. Hungry. And ready.
The Soil We Grow In: A Study Into The Boys’ Homelander and Jurassic World’s The Indominus Rex.
1070ish words.
11th July 2026.
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Yeah. Insane concept. Bear with me and buckle up.
Urie Bronfenbrenner established a psychological theory coined as the ‘Ecological Systems Theory’. This notion focuses on how an individual’s development is heavily influenced by the environment in which they are raised. The soil in which they take root from the moment they are born. This psychologist argued that there were five systems that impact and sway growth and behavioural development: the microsystem (immediate environment and relationships), mesosystem (communication within this environment), exosystem (indirect experiences), macrosystem (society), and chronosystem (history). Humans, animals, all living things are the products of their environments. Each of these systems work together to develop a unique individual who experiences a range of challenges and opportunities. These systems do, however, provide an understanding of behavioural reactions and unconscious needs - especially when they are not within the status quo. If all of us are planted in the soil of our microsystem, do we have a choice in how we develop?
John Gillman, more commonly known as Homelander, is a notorious character within the action series The Boys. He is ruthlessly cruel, manipulative, and intense. He believes he is a god, the greater good, and uses his powers for selfish means. The question him is, are we born to be selfish?
The Indominus Rex. She is a genetic hybridisation of reptile, dinosaur, and abomination. She is the main antagonist of Jurassic World (2014), filling her primal urges for bloodlust with zero consequence. She, a genetically modified prehistoric reptile, uses her obvious size and strength to her advantage. The question for her is, are we to blame for the effects we have on others?
Homelander was brought up in a sterile, scientific environment. He was raised with an understanding that his powers were his only asset, the only thing that makes him worthy as a being. He develops a “god complex” because he is told over and over again that he is important - that his powers are important. He is then thrust into the limelight, a powerful being that can protect the US - protect the world. He is humanised to the population, given a fake backstory that includes parents who were present - unlike the scientists and tools he was raised by. He was born, forced to become a supe, and raised as if he was an experiment - not as a child. Despite his abilities, he was still a child. This impacted his life path, changed his whole trajectory - his potential of being good having been squashed before he could even have the choice. His microsystem failed him, which in turn impacts all his other systems. Society becomes afraid of him and his powers, which feeds into both the self-hatred and self-importance he developed. His behaviour is inherently caused by his upbringing, and he chose to continue to be this way. But what choice do you get after a while? If he was raised to be selfish, is that not his equilibrium? Despite what many believe, he cannot be fixed. His environments have destroyed him, have made him a monster. His soil was poisoned, and he never left. He never uprooted himself. He stayed poisoned and built an empire of darkness.
The Indominus Rex, on the other hand, has another barrier that Homelander does not need to overcome. Humans are inherently predisposed to being able to escape our primal instincts. We have adapted to develop a range of complex and complicated systems in our brains that ensure we do not lose our humanity. Obviously, Homelander loses his societal understanding of humanity - but he is still human. There are still neuron’s in his brain that stop him from accessing the prehistoric instincts that The Indominus actively uses. The Indominus is a genetically modified reptile, not a dinosaur that was ever born on this planet. She has a range of genes from a range of species that change her instincts and primal urges as a carnivore - most likely heightening them. She was then put into an enclosure with a sibling, who she ate due to her rapid growth in size - one the scientists could not predict due to her jungle juice of genes. She grows and grows and grows, eating from a claw and learning her instinctive behaviours in isolation. She manipulates the park workers by scratching the walls, enabling her to escape and wreak havoc onto the innocent citizens and animals. As an animal, she does not inherently have the autonomy we associate with humanity. She did not have a choice to be created, to be raised the way she was. In a way, her existence is pain. She does not know her purpose, as there is no space for her in the natural food chain anymore. Her soil was poisoned and she is acting upon these urges, as they would be needed back in Jurassic times.
Both Homelander and the Indominus Rex are extremely manipulative creatures, with the assumption that they developed this system in order to survive - as they are the “fittest”. Their environments created isolated creatures, but what if they were raised in different soil? Is it worth thinking this, when you cannot change the past? They lose themselves to their soil, because they have no choice but to stay. That is what is expected by society, their macrosystem - and for The Rex, her chronosystem. Expectations can rule us, can force our behaviour to go down a path of no return. It is hard to resist deepening your roots into horrid soil if you have no support to change. You cannot change by yourself, as much as modern society encourages. Hyperindepence is equally as bad as codependency, but sometimes we are predisposed to both depending on our microsystem.
So, why would I compare a dinosaur to a superhero/villain/freak? Have you ever wondered why people turn out to be literal devils in disguise? We are all a product of our environment, and these fictional representations show the raw reality of this - of how poisoned soil sets you up for failure. If the soil is poisoned, how are we expected to be better? There is hope. The difference between someone who grew in soil that was deadly and these two characters is that there IS hope for growth. There is hope to plant your roots elsewhere, because you are REAL. You have options. You have a choice. Your soil does not define you - the flower that blooms does.
Summary: Winter comes over the forest and William offers to help warm Remmick up.
WC: 3K+
TW: slight breeding kink, vampire, werewolf, slight aftercare, blood, animalistic, smut, gay, mlm, rough, dom!werewolf, sub!remmick, pegging, p in a
Part (II) Moons Sway
Part (I) The Wolf and the Bat
The familiar canopy of leaves overhead thinned now. Sunlight is able to breach the protective shield, lighting up the landscape. Making it impossible for Remmick to move about during the day like he was used to. Standing on the porch of William’s cabin, under the shade of the roof, he peered up at the tree line. Able to see the cloudy grey sky.
Arms folded across his chest, the chill here was colder than he thought, even for being dead–and being used to the cold all the time. The wind still whipped through clothes, flesh, and bones. Remmick would never admit that the cold bothered him. Hunched shoulders fighting off the growing chill.
It had been a long while since he had to stay cooped up. Remmick was used to the freedom this forest provided. Blue human eyes counted the rays and sun patches lining the ground ahead. Wondering if it was worth risking a walk.
Staring ahead, face scrunched in though, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulders. A big coat laid over him–two sizes too big for him. Instinctually he pulled it around himself, softly purring at the warmth. Slightly turning his head, he found William beside him.
Tall, bulky–filled in after eating a lot more lately–beard grown out, and hair a tangled mess.
“Look like you could use the warmth.” Husky voice rough from just waking up. William sipped from a tin mug, steam rising from the heated coffee inside. “I wouldn't risk it either.” He commented, lips pressed to the rim.
Remmick groaned under his breath. William was right. No use tempting fate and risk singed skin or worse, getting burnt to a crisp.
A heavy hand pats his shoulder. “Come night fall we’ll go out. Need to hunt ‘fore all the prey burrow for the winter.”
Remmick liked the sound of that. Relearning patience with the changing seasons, since he decided that this was his home. Only a few months and his world was at peace. A feeling he yearned for. Sorrow filled him countless nights, longing for a chance like this. Never did he think he would have it and never in his centuries would it be with a werewolf.
A fine pair they made.
William–rough around the edges, protective, and slightly possessive over him.
Remmick found himself smiling thinking about it.
Not to mention what he provided. Roof over his head. Shelter from the weather and sun. Food–though he didn’t eat–he fed off William. When the werewolf allowed. And the warmth. Fur from his huge wolf form, the various blankets made from animal hides from the ones they hunted.
There were a few downsides to living with a werewolf. Besides the obvious mood swings there was aggression and possessiveness. And when the moon took hold, Remmick held up in Wiliams home until he returned the following day. Friend nor foe in those moments. Remmick wasn’t keen on fighting something that ferocious. There was also the risk of hurting William. He was against such action.
“Come on pup.” William told him with another pat on the vampire’s shoulder. “Let’s go on in and get warmed up, hmm.” Arm slipping around the smaller man. The two of them returned inside.
William’s loyal dog was enjoying a nice spot on a rug right in front of a newly burning fire. The orange embers sparkled as the wood crackled.
William briefly excuses himself to discard the mug as Remmick shuffled to the couch. Bundled in the oversized coat–that made him look smaller than he was.
The dog stretched its limbs with a big huff, lazy and content. It had grown used to Remmick’s presence though not fully trusting him.
William joined Remmick, flopping down next to him, legs manspreading with a groan. The wood crackles and spurts, flames licking around the pile.
Remmick hunkered into the warmth of the jacket, radiating heat of the fire, and the closeness of the werewolf beside him. A purr quietly vibrated from his chest.
William’s soft hand came to rest against Remmick’s face. The vampire leaned into it automatically, coming to crave the warm gentle touch. His cheek nuzzled at the palm, cold skin absorbing the heat that naturally radiated from his kind. Remmick purred again, face pressing more against William’s hand.
“There are more ways than just a fire to keep you warm.” William grumbles from his throat.
The sound of his voice sent shivers through his body. Remmick turned his body, head still pressed, nuzzling like a cat. No invitation was needed when his eyes met the other man’s.
William’s hands moved, staying connected as Remmick found himself in William’s lap. Both hands now cupping the vampire's face.
Remmick’s own grabbing lightly around William’s wrists.
Broad thumbs rub his cheekbones.
Even through the small layer of clothes William was wearing Remmick felt like he was sitting on a furnace. Cold hands sliding up and down the werewolf’s wrist, sinking fully into his lap.
“Yer so warm,” Remmick purrs, closing his eyes.
William lets him take his time soaking in the wolf’s heat. Watching the way he melts stirs his excitement. It only adds to that feeling when Remmick absent-mindedly begins to grind his hips. Denim scraping together, friction adding to the shared warmth.
“That what ya need?” William growled softly.
Remmick nods, grip tightening with a harder grind of his hips. He knew exactly what he was doing and how to rile the werewolf up.
William leaned forward, a deep growl lodged in his throat, eyes shifting to that soft amber glow.
When Remmick opened his eyes, he was in a similar way. Red reflective eyes, hungry and lustful. Another rotation of his hips and William’s cock started to come to life. Hardening, outline bulging at the seam of his jeans. Remmick can feel it, making him grind down harder.
“Need ya.” A breathy cry rang off Remmick’s lips.
“Yeah?” Tone shifting into a playful tease. “Need this nice juicy, warm, thick wolf cock buried in ya?”
The words were filthy. There were only a few times that William spoke this way and neither the full moon nor his rut was happening so it was purely from his aroused state.
William bucked his hips as Remmick straddled his lap. Another growl leaves his throat, cock straining his jeans as it swells.
Remmick continues to dry hump his lap, grip on his wrists tightening again as he elicits a pitiful whine. Desperate for more of the man’s warmth. Needy for that enlarged cock he can feel. He was acting like a bitch in heat, and he didn’t understand where it came from.
William tries to stave his hips from bucking again, but he fails. The natural instinct to fuck the man sitting on top of him was growing too strong.
“Argh! Ya need it that badly?” He hisses.
Remmick whines a yes with an added breathy please.
“Then I’ll keep ya nice and warm.” A dark growl, animalistic, rumbles from his chest and he shoves Remmick from his lap.
Stumbling to his feet Remmick observes the amber glow of William’s eye scream with hunger. Just how he wanted. He wasted no time removing the oversized coat and stripping him down to nothing. Naked and cold with the fire burning behind him.
As Remmick strips, William unbuttons his jeans, pulling his large pulsing cock free. Throbbing with an ache he grips it right stroking himself.
“Come here.” He barks trying to maintain some semblance of control over the wolf side. The one Remmick stirred purposefully.
Remmick does as he’s told, getting closer.
William grabs him harshly, turning him around so that his back faces him. Claws extending, he guides Remmick down onto his awaiting lap.
A hand slides between his thighs, Remmick takes hold of William’s erect cock guiding it to his entrance and sinks down. With a sharp hiss the large head forces past the tight rim, prying him open as his insides feel every vein as it slips in inch by inch. He doesn’t stop lowering himself until his ass is flush with the other man’s lap.
Loudly William groaned, tapping his head against the vampire's cool back. Hot breath burns the cold flesh. William’s hands grip the top of Remmick’s thighs as he sits there.
The vampire kept his hips still, for now, just letting the girth of the cock stretch his insides. His head tipped back lightly colliding with the top of William’s. Not only did the stretch feel good, but the large cock also pulsed with heat, burning him from the inside out. Remmick’s cold hands rest over William’s with a gentle grip–simple touch to ground him.
William pressed warm lips, kissing Remmick’s back. Hot lips warm him where he could. Claws lightly digging into the flesh. The growing need to thrust his hips grew stronger with every passing second. So, he distracted himself by kissing the body in front of him.
“William…” Remmick let out breathlessly, body heating up from building arousal.
“Yes, pup?” The response was gruff as he clung to fleeting restraint. Hands gently rubbing Remmick’s thighs with Remmick gripping onto the strong hands following their path.
Eye lids closing, living in the moment, Remmick wasn’t even sure what he was wanting to ask or say. Content with the shared rising heat, he just let the name roll off his tongue. Repeating it again, dropping to a whisper.
A deep growl–a satisfied noise–purred from William’s chest. The sound vibrated against Remmick’s spine. Cock buried deeply to the hilt. With how still the vampire was sitting it frayed the edges of his control. Teeth sharpened in his mouth, canines forming, he bit on his lip, forehead once again resting against Remmick’s back as he desperately fought the urge to drive hips upward.
Claw tips drag slowly, teasing small cuts up Remmick’s thighs. Digging in just enough to raise little faded red marks just shy of breaking skin.
Remmick’s cock twitched, leaking from the tip, the head red and angry with want, going unattended. When the cock inside pulsed, inner walls latched on with a tight squeeze.
William’s breath staggered in short hot pants, ghosting into Remmick’s back. His restraint decomposed faster when Remmick whined.
“Y-you keep squeezing like that and I’ll end up fuckin’ ya.” William grunted, nipping at the skin in front of him.
“Ca-can’t help it.” Remmick gave another whine.
“I’m supposed to be keepin’ ya warm…” William cut off his own sentence when walls clenched around his cock, causing a deep guttural growl to escape his throat without warning. Huffing a few deep heavy pants, he fought so hard not to lose control.
Hands slid up Remmick’s thighs, claws digging in deeper creating lines of blood, as they crept towards the vampire's aching cock.
Remmick hissed legs spreading wider. The movement caused William to moan loudly.
“Arrggh! Fuck…” William choked claws hooking the inner thighs piercing the flesh, purely reactionary.
There was an involuntary whimper to the pain.
“Sorry,” apologetically William kissed his shoulder. Claws withdraw from his skin, blood oozing out slowly. In an effort to make up for it he wrapped a palm around Remmick’s leaking cock. His other arm slid across his abdomen holding onto Remmick. An attempt to keep his movements to a minimum.
Remmick’s hot length throbbed in the warm palm. Moaning from touch alone, head thrown back against William’s shoulder. His thumb swiped at the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum he found there. Thumb rolling in small circles over the head.
William shifts his hips–a small testing grind–tyring to sooth the torturous feeling the stillness brought. Doing anything before the urge to fuck him overtook him completely.
Stead firm strokes, working his hand up and down the shaft. Slicking it with the vampires leaking fluids. Each pass of his hand sent a new wave of pre oozing from the tip.
Even while focusing on the act of jerking Remmick off, it did little to calm the violent twitch of his buried cock. Deeply sunk inside, it pulses aggressively against the tight walls. It swelled, growing in size and thickness as his wolf side surged hotter.
A broken wet moan ripped from Remmick’s throat. Drool ran down his chin; fingers turned into claws–sharp knife-like points–that pierced the skin on William’s legs anchoring himself to keep his hips from moving.
The sudden sharp sting caused William to snarl. Pure animalistic. Mouth parting saliva dripping from his sharpened canines. The thick saliva dropped onto Remmick’s shoulder.
“Can’t take… much more.” Willam growled. Voice turning non-human, rough and deep.
His hand gripped hard around Remmick’s cock. It was so tight the shaft throbbed wildly in his fist.
Remmick’s hips jerked as a result. Whining loudly, forcing the large cock inside to thrust accidentally. Grinding hard, dragging along the tight walls. The desperate shift had his rim clench, milking the massive shaft.
William’s arm wrapped tighter around Remmick’s abdomen, claws sinking in to try to pin him still. Pressure built to a breaking point as his cock throbbed. The control he was so desperate to keep was ready to snap.
The large cock twitched with such urgency, swelling again, stretching him even further.
With his chest heaving with ragged pants, all William could do was growl. Thick spools of saliva poured through clenched canines. Not being able to hold out any longer his wolf side snapped all restraint–breaking like links on a chain. Human control is thrown to the side where only animal remains.
Amber eyes burn brighter, panting turns into deep shallow breathing. Guttural huffs escaping.
Remmick winced when William’s hand gripped painfully tighter on his cock. Ears twitching to another deep grumble coming from behind. “Wil-William?” He questioned with a gasp. Voice filled with concern and alarm.
William responded–not with words–with a savage snarl. Arms and claws locked around Remmick’s belly like iron bars to a cage, keeping him pinned to the werewolf’s body.
For a long moment, in a suspended heartbeat, neither Remmick nor William spoke or moved. A shared breath that was held quietly in the air. Then, suddenly William forced him down to the floor. Crashing on all fours, chest shoved down into the soft rug, scraping lightly against the fur.
William’s bulkier frame came down heavily, covering him. Clawed hands forced Remmick’s ass to stay up in the air, presented in a perfect arch. The primal urge of the wolf inside him took control completely. There would be no mercy to the need burning hot in its blood.
The vampire beneath him wriggled, pain and pleasure mixing, drawing out the sense of danger. He still tried to move away.
Remmick didn’t get far, sharp canines quickly sank into his neck, piercing the cold flesh with a tear as the sharp points dug in. Only far enough to hold him in place. A terrifying deep possessive growl vibrated against his nape in warning. Blood trickled from the bite mark, lines of dark crimson running down pale skin.
Satisfied his “prey” wasn’t going anywhere William’s hips snapped forward. Cock slammed back into Remmick’s hole with brutal force that lurched him forward. The thick girth stretched his hole wider, driving deep with punishing thrusts. The large shaft would pull almost all the way out before slamming back to the base. Hips crashing hard against Remmick’s ass in relentless slaps.
Every thrust was brutal, shoving Remmick’s body forward chafing his body across the rug. His untouched cock dragged over the smooth fur, leaking more from the softness.
Louder, wetter growls emanate in the air–animalistic sounds unbecoming of the semi-human form William took. Claws dug into his sides, raking down his ribs to Remmick’s hips, tearing the skin, leaving lines of blood. His claws settled in his hips as William fucked him without pause. The overwhelming scent of sweat, pre-cum, and the desperate raw need of the two sex hazed supernatural beings.
The wolf side wanted to claim every inch of Remmick that it could. Pounding his ass with savage thrusts.
Remmick let out a few pained whimpers before they turned into broken cracked moans.
The head of Williams cock hammered into his prostate, each thrust hitting that sweet spot.
Remmick’s claws shred the rug, smaller body rutting forward, hips rocking as much as William’s claws would allow. Thick cock stretched filling him. Through clenched fangs Remmick moaned and hissed. Deep groves from claws tore at the soft rug unable to escape. His vision grew white at the edges, William's cock swelled slightly making the vampire whine.
Hunched over him, teeth still latched to his neck, body overheating. Hot breath puffs against skin. Every time he growled the sound would vibrate through both. Hips rutting faster, driving the cock deeper. Wet slaps of skin echoed through the living room.
Remmick’s body shook, drool pouring uncontrollably from his lips, walls spasming and clenching squeezing down on the invading length. Cock pulsing with every drag until without warning burst with cum. Thick white ropes spurt from the tip, creating a mess beneath him. His hole fluttered around William’s shaft as his orgasm crashed through him.
William didn’t even seem phased–didn’t slow down. He fucked the vampire straight through it with heavy feral force.
Remmick’s tight ass squeezed like a vice. Clamping so hard, an inhuman moan wrenched from his throat. Eyes rolling up into his skull.
At the intense squeezing on his cock William snarled. The sweet pressure pulled him further into that primal fog. Unable to stop his hips driving him forward with more force. Cock swelling again as the base started to knot. Swiftly it formed into a full know. Hips snapping harder, forcing it past the tight rim until it sat inside. It stretched Remmick’s ass wider than it had ever been as the knot locked them together.
William’s jaw tightened on the vampire’s neck–not like he was going anywhere. The weight of his body crushed Remmick flat into the floor as a short powerful thrust slammed against him. Rutting the knot further just like he was breeding a mate.
The knot throbbed and William howled–muffled, vibrating against the cool skin. Thick ropes of cum flooded his insides. Heavy warm spurts filled him until Remmick’s belly began to swell from the volume.
It was hard for Remmick to catch his breath. Choking on a high-pitched moan, face shoved into the rug with William milking himself for every last drop.
Finally, the werewolf’s hips slowed to a standstill, knot locked inside plugging his hole. There was so much cum it leaked around the rim. William stayed hunched over Remmick pressing him more into the rug.
Both beings pant heavily, filling the room with the combined sound. Chest heaving in shallow pants.
William’s inner wolf slowly faded back into the depths. A low growl rumbled in his chest. Canines release their grip from Remmick’s neck.
Able to finally move his head, Remmick exhaled in relief. Though his ass was still raised up and a cock still locked inside. His body felt sore and stretched beyond belief. Belly swollen in a bulge, heavy from the massive load. Cum slowly leaking around the sealed rim, dripping down his balls adding to the mess below.
When William made the slightest movement, a soft groan escaped Remmick’s lips. A fresh pressure sensation vibrated through his stuffed ass. Hot breath passed over the bite as the werewolf’s overheated body radiated heat. Remmick purred louder to the added warmth, body relaxing slightly.
Eventually the knot gradually softened, shrinking in size. William’s panting turned into even breaths as his mind cleared. That animalistic fog lifting. His cock shrunk back to its normal size, the immense stretch eased, leaving Remmick strangely feeling empty–despite the cock still buried.
Remmick whined to the change.
Glowing amber eyes faded back to their regular hue–the wolf inside having had its fill.
It took William a little while to register everything. Taking the opportunity to withdraw. Slowly easing his hips back, thick cock pulling out with a squelch. Cum immediately flowed from the exposed hole.
Beneath him Remmick whimpered from the empty feeling.
Taking pity, William helped roll Remmick onto his side in a more comfortable position. Then he laid down behind him. Strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him close to his chest letting him continue to feel the heat.
Remmick groaned to the movement even as he tucked himself into the embrace. His cold skin warmed by the werewolf. He relaxed in his arms, listening to the steady beating of the werewolf’s heart. The feeling of his chest rose and fell against his spine.
Those strong arms wove snuggly around the vampire. And Remmick clutched onto them, hugging them tightly against his chest. Pressing himself back against the solid form, he felt a gentle fatigue wash over him. Soft purrs reverberate from his throat, drawn out by the dual warmth. William at his back and the fire in front.
The glowing embers of the fire danced above the logs.
William could feel every purr ripple against his skin. Burying his face into the curve of his neck, pressing his lips there.
This earned him another long purr.
Shifting as close as he could, William curved his larger body around Remmick, tucking him tightly to him. Creating a protective bubble of warmth.
Both gazed lazily into the dancing flames.
William wanted to assess the damage he no doubt caused. The last few minutes had been a complete blank for him. His mind recalled nothing. But the smell of blood, sweat, and cum were enough evidence to fill in the gap.
Even if he checked for any wounds, the claw marks and bite had already disappeared. Thanks to Remmick’s vampiric healing. So, instead of bothering him, he simply pressed soft kisses followed by loving nuzzles into Remmick’s neck.
William felt him melt deeper into his arms. He planned to make it up to him. A nice bath, fresh blood, and warm fur. But that could come later, for now he enjoyed the small, passionate moment.
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Let's face it: A big chunk of humanity loves/celebrates trolls and applauds sheer stupidity. They elect them for president, they listen to their podcasts, they follow them on social media, they believe when they state that 2+2=5 and participate in cults of personality. It's a sign of the times, it's the Zeitgeist: we're living in the Trump era or better yet -- the mean girl era.
The more aggressive and predatorial you appear, the haughtier you speak, the bigger the applause, the more blind the admiration, the possibility of critical thinking appears even more hopeless and the bigger the herd mentality.
Following strong leaders is definitely rooted in primal instincts for survival, I've realized this since I was young. In my youth, I was more idealistic thinking we can become better as a species and society and overcome those primal instincts through reason and education. However, the gravity of this aspect of humanity in current times is capable of exterminating the last bit of hope even in the post optimistic of humans. We seem bound to repeat the worst in history.
