big teeth big heart

sometimes you just gotta write, and sometimes it's ... this || potentially NSFW, 18+

[philicheesecake]

Rebuild

An unfinished Heart Pangs Fanfiction. Heart Pangs belongs to @mmmleckerlecker

Note: I wrote this before the next chapter came out, so I just wanted to write a chapter where Benji is alive. I didn’t exactly finish this because there isn’t much point, but anywho, just a heads up that it’s sloppy. This was more of a ramble than a story. If anyone likes this premise I might continue it.

Synopsis: the power of fans is too great against death itself

Warnings: Graphic digestion, fatal vore, and ANGST >:3c

Word count: 2792 words

Lux curled around the curve of his gut, leaning forward to envelop Benji entirely. As soon as he gave into digestion, the greatest pleasure and satisfaction encompassed him. Electric shivers ran down his spine. He could feel Benji pressed up tightly against his other organs. Any plea screaming in his mind to free his friend, his prey before it was too late, was silenced by the utter joy of it all, finally letting go of his control, being free to claim his most desired prey as his own, and his alone.

He could feel Benji begin to squirm in pain as digestion began. He could only imagine him melting away, becoming no one but his. Becoming part of him. The squirms, and clear nonverbal pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. Nothing else mattered now. The desperation of his prey felt so foggy… distant… unimportant. All that mattered was this. He deserved this.

His eyes fluttered closed and he laid on the weight of his belly, curling his fingers around the stretched skin of his middle where he could feel the bumps and features of his dying captive. It was wonderful. It was amazing. He had no idea how or why he had held back from this so long. The wait of all these years shouldn’t have been necessary. He had control… But for the first time, he realized it wasn’t just control over himself. No, he had control, but this time, it was control over Benji. Completely, and finally his.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, he drifted into a blissful sleep.

~*~

The burn of sunlight flashed beneath his eyelids. The warm sting of it enveloping him. He only felt complete bliss. For a moment, he forgot where he was completely. Only a foggy enveloping warmth.

He was slowly drawn back to his senses, blinking his eyes open and squinted against the golden sunlight. He was on the forest floor on the roadside. A fluttering warmth filled his core. He could barely remember what happened. He rolled on his back and stared up at the sky through the gaps of the forest canopy. A hand migrated to his middle and gave it an idle rub. Something felt off. But something felt wonderful. He finally looked down.

His belly was filled out, though it had noticeably shrunk through the night, making a subtle bump beneath his shirt. His eyes widened by a hair. He pressed his hand into his middle. It was… it was over. The memories from last night gradually resurfaced. Feeling an incredible hunger, and releasing all control he had… Because he had no choice.

Benji was gone.

The thought felt numb and distant to him. How could something so terrible feel so amazing. How could one night erase the entire life of someone so important. How had he let this happen…

How had he not let this happen for so many years.

He gradually got himself to sit up. He twitched towards the road, seeing a familiar car approach from the distance, then park on the roadside. Lenora stepped out. She assessed the scene, quickly realizing what happened.

“Lux…”

He didn’t respond. How could he? What words could sum up the complex feelings or lack thereof as he struggled to numbly process all this. He managed to pull himself to his feet. After a pause, he looked towards his car. “The oil ran out.”

“I know.”

Lux stared long and hard at her in silence.

She went forward, taking his hand. Her grip was warm and firm, though gentle. It was the security that he needed right now. Her eyes carefully searched his. Past her facade of composure, concern read through her eyes. She knew.

“Let’s get you home, and get you cleaned up. I’ll call a tow truck.”

~*~

Benji had nightmares of this long before it happened. The close, cramped, suffocating chamber filled with burning fluids that tore at his flesh, dissolving it into the churning walls around him. The rough squeezes against the walls rubbed off his skin, exposing blood and muscle to the harsh acids.

It was the worst pain imaginable. Any prayer for release was overtaken by the sheer agony of it all, and he was soon praying for an end to come and free him from this hell. He only struggled at first, though his blood loss and short supply of air in his shallow lungs quickly drew all strength from him. He laid there helplessly as the acid levels rose and attacked everything.

He was beginning to lose consciousness just as the acids were beginning to eat away at his organs within his torso, and invaded his lungs. A gargling gasp for air was the last sound that escaped him before the burning pain finally numbed away. Everything was so distant… His mind sank into blackness. His body fell limp and lifeless. Dead, at his childhood friend’s hand. The ultimate betrayal.

~*~

A ragged gasp tore through his lungs. A clawing pain gripped his chest. Every fiber of his being was on fire. Rasping gasps rattled within his ribcage as he slowly learned to breathe again. Tears poured down his cheeks. The fear. The pain. The betrayal. Everything crashing down on him with the worst gut-wrenching feeling of loss.

He didn’t know how long he laid there. It felt like hours before he could pull himself back together.

He finally opened his eyes, wiping the tears from his vision. He was lying on the roadside. He was beneath the very tree he had been pinned up against and consumed underneath. The sun was hanging low in the sky. Lux’s car was gone.

He gradually pulled himself to his feet. Everything hurt. With one look down at his hands, he could see why. Every inch of his skin was covered in scars of acid burns. His clothes were tattered and fraying. He felt a wave of nausea and squeezed his eyes tight, trying to will himself not to break down again. He didn’t know how he was alive. He remembered dying. All too well.

A car was approaching from the distance. He limped over to the road, putting a hand to his aching ribs and held out a hand toward the truck’s path.

It was a pred car. He shouldn’t be testing his luck, but after what had happened, he was just desperate to leave this place. The truck slowed down and rolled onto the roadside. The pred within was an older fellow with a bushy beard, wrinkles around his eyes, and smelled of cigarette smoke and bacon.

“Well you look like a lousy bit of chewed bubblegum, kid! Come on in.” The driver gestured inside. Benji grimaced at the comparison, but nodded gratefully, climbing into the tall side of the truck and hoisted himself into the seat.

“Now what in lord’s name happened to ya, hm? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a nasty encounter with an addict.” The driver glanced to his side as he pulled away.

Benji glanced down with a shiver, not sure how to speak.

“It’s alright. I won’t hurtcha. My daughter is married to a prey, after all. Cute couple, them. Got married last April. That’s them right there, see?” He gestured to a photograph pinned to the console. The pred girl was grinning ear to ear with a gap between her front teeth, and her hair was a mane of dirty blonde curls. Her arms were around a smaller prey girl with dark hair, holding up a peace sign.

Benji’s expression softened slightly. “They look happy,” he said softly.

“They sure are. Never knew a couple better matched than those two gals.” The truck driver grinned. “Now you have a place to go, son?”

Benji looked down, his smile fading. He was lost. He didn’t want Camille to see him like this. This would be a repeat of McMullen’s story. He didn’t want her to end up like this. He didn’t want her to be angry. But go to Lux’s house? After he killed him?

“I don’t know,” Benji admitted. His hand went to his wrist where his orange band was subconsciously, only to find it wasn’t there. A chill ran down his spine. His contract had been closed. That was why. But it didn’t explain how he was alive again after all this.

“I just needed to get away from there. You can drop me off in town. I’ll figure something out from there,” Benji decided.

“Are you sure? You look awful. Let me at least get you patched up at my place. We can set you right. You can borrow a phone there if you need to contact anyone.”

Benji considered this silently for a moment. He was tired. He was in pain. And he was too ashamed to go to any familiar face at the moment and expose all of his burns. Though one name came in mind. One that he had to speak to.

“That’s… very thoughtful of you,” Benji finally said. “Thank you.”

The truck driver smiled.

~*~

The pred, who introduced himself as Orson, had a house on the far corner of the town. A nice garden laid on the side, seen through the weather-stained fence. His house appeared small, and not one of wealth, though it was kept well as his skills would allow. The pred opened the door for Benji and the small prey nervously entered.

“Been a while since I’ve had to get out my first aid, though I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. Here,” he handed Benji his phone. “Make your call while I dig through some stuff.”

Benji nodded a thanks, then went out on the front porch. He dialed a number that was familiar at this point, though he hesitated before ringing it up. The numbers bore down on him. What on earth could he say about all this?

Sucking in a deep breath to brace himself, he entered the number. It rung. And rung. And rung.

He had to dial the number again when the answer machine came up. Finally, someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Felix.”

A pause. “Who is this?”

“It’s Benji.”

Click.

The line went dead.

Benji frowned. He dialed again, more desperate. He couldn’t let this news get to Camille. As much as his heart ached, but he couldn’t let her know.

“Who is this?” Lux answered again.

“Felix, please listen,” Benji pleaded.

“You’re not Benji. Who the fuck are you and what sort of nasty trick is this?”

“Felix… Please— please don’t tell Camille what happened.”

A pause.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benji bit his lip. This was hard to say. “Felix. I don’t want Camille to end up like McMullen. Please. Just… tell her I died in the facility. Just don’t tell her you— you killed me,”

The line went dead again.

Benji cringed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He got the message across. But he had no idea if Lux would take it seriously. He could only hope.

He noticed the front door open and quickly straightened himself up once Orson appeared again.

“Tough luck?” The pred guessed from Benji’s expression. Benji nodded.

“Damn, I’m sorry. You can stay for a little while until you get things sorted out. It’s no trouble, really.”

Benji was hesitant, but nodded. “Thank you. I feel bad to take advantage of your hospitality. I promise I’ll get something sorted out soon.”

Orson raised his hands dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, son. It would take a man without a heart not to help. Here,” he gestured to his first aid kit. “Come in and I’ll patch you up good as new.”

The acid burns were still in pain. Some of them were open wounds that would bleed upon the slightest irritation. Though through all this, Orson was diligent in his work, trying his best to make Benji feel better. When he was just finishing up, the phone rang. Orson picked it up, listened, paused, and handed it over to Benji. “It’s for you,” he nodded.

Benji’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly took the phone and walked over to a corner to try to talk in private.

“Hello?”

“Whoever you are… Meet me at the old playground. Tomorrow at seven in the evening.”

He shivered. So soon after dying so horrifically, he would confront the very pred that devoured and killed him.

“I will,” he said. It was done.

The other line hung up again.

Benji sighed, and handed the phone over to the pred. “Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair soon, I promise.”

~*~

The instructions were ambiguous. No specific address was mentioned. But Benji knew exactly where to go.

It was a long walk there in the evening chill. He didn’t feel safe walking around at this hour. He wasn’t sure if he would feel safe around Lux either.

He could see the back of a tall waiting figure on the bench of their childhood playground. So many memories here, on these streets. Of course it would be here. This was a test.

“Felix…”

The pred stiffened at his name and turned around to face Benji. Benji’s heart leaped in his throat. He never felt this afraid of Lux before. But then again. Dying can change things.

Lux’s eyes were sharp and attentive as always, though his hair was slightly unruly, his shirt was wrinkled. He was a couple days overdo for a shave. His eyes were puffy and exhausted. It was clear the past few days hadn’t been treating him well.

His eyes flickered in recognition. His mouth opened. “Benji,”

He got to his feet and took a step closer. Benji took an instinctual step back. “W-wait—“ he held up his hands. Lux stopped. Miraculously.

“Benji, is that…?”

“It’s me.”

He took in a stunned gasp. “How…?”

“I don’t know.”

They were silent for a moment, staring back at each other with a mix of emotions. Lux with amazement, disbelief, hope, and guilt, and Benji with fear. Lux managed to find his voice again.

“Y-you died. I killed you. God, Benji, I killed you. How can you be here?”

“I know. I-I was there.” Benji responded numbly. “Is Camille…? Is she okay?”

Lux grimaced. He looked down. “No. No she’s not. She knows. She swore she’d kill me. And frankly, I deserve it.”

Benji looked down, wiping his nose. “No you don’t. You were set up. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lux gawked at him in surprise. “Not my fault? I had control. I was so certain I had control. But I consumed you, and I enjoyed every bit of it. God, I could feel you die within me and I enjoyed it. I’m a monster, Benji. I never should have trusted myself around you. I never had control. And it’s all my fault,”

Benji paused, then stepped closer. He put a hand on Lux’s arm. His burns and scars were now visible within the street lights.

“Felix, look at me. I… forgive you. I don’t know how, but I was given a second chance. I don’t blame you. I don’t hold any anger against you. I knew what I was getting into and that’s how it ended.”

Felix looked. He sucked in a disturbed gasp through his teeth, now seeing the scars in full light.

“Benji I…” his wide eyes trailed behind Benji. He gripped Benji’s arm.

“Duck.”

Benji’s mouth opened, too confused to react. Felix shoved him out of the way. Benji skidded across the ground onto his back. The wind was knocked out of him.

He looked up just in time to see a large pred van parked where his back had been turned. Prey rushed out. A dart struck Lux’s neck. Lux stumbled back, and charged towards the prey, punching one and swatting away another.

Benji blinked in shock. Camille and Oscar were among the prey. Lux stumbled onto his face, the dart beginning to take effect. Several prey worked to lift him into the back of the van. Benji scrambled to his feet. The doors slammed shut. He lunged toward the van just as it sped away, leaving him collapsed there in the road. He saw the tail lights of the van trail out of sight.

They were going to kill Lux.

He raced toward the side of town to a phone booth. He only had some loose cash that Orson insisted on him taking, but it would be enough. He was out of breath by the time he called a cab to take him to his sister’s place. He hoped to god he could catch her before they did something terrible.

This is why he was here. He had to fix things. He had to save Felix.

[mmmleckerlecker]

oh my god the titles of the two fangmaw fics go together….

[fangmaw]

*cackles in delight* I couldn’t resist

[fangmaw]

Little Red

I have crawled out of my cave once again to provide the Heart Pangs fandom with wild fanfic.

. . . also I’m maybe a little bit still very much in denial about Chapter 60.

There’s one line in Chapter 57 when Lenora and Lux look at each other during the Benji hand-off that I’m obsessed with—this basically spiraled out of my thoughts about it.

This is a fanfic based on Heart Pangs by @mmmleckerlecker! 

This was it.

Benji curled in on himself, trying to become even smaller in the cramped space.

This was every nightmare, every lingering fear laid bare. This was it.

He wanted to be mad. He should have been terrified. Instead it was just . . . relief. It was over.

Then he began to burn. Benji started to gasp, then clamped his mouth shut as sour fire leaked past his lips. The acrid burn in his nostrils became too much to bear, and he choked on what little air he had. His limbs were kicking and pushing against the slick, burning surface all around him. He managed to roll slightly, pulling his arm away from his body and digging his elbow into soft, smothering muscle. His wrist sank into the dark.

He felt a ripple pass along the stomach wall. Muscles around him clenched abruptly, then twisted, before everything went dark.

When he woke up, all he could see was Lux, curled up in the dirt beside him.

***

“Mr. Marotta?” The Facility worker from earlier—Lenora?—entered his chamber. She sighed. "Benji. He's here."

Benji stood, stiff after sitting so long. He got to the middle of the room, beside the table, when the pred held out a hand to stop him.

"I’m going to ask a favor of you.”

Benji could only gawk in confusion.

The worker reached into the interior pocket of her jacket and handed him something. As soon as Benji registered the curve of cool metal in his palm, he jumped back and dropped it, like it was white-hot.

Lenora twisted her lip and picked up the wristband, then set it on the table beside them.

"I won't force you to do anything. But I'm asking. For Lux."

Benji shook his wrist in front of his face. "Already taken care of that, sorry."

Lenora closed her eyes briefly and held her forehead in one hand. "Yes, obviously. This is mine. I think . . . I'm not entirely sure. And I don't think I would tell you if I did know what was happening."

"I'm not entering a contract—"

Lenora cut him off with a hiss. "We don't have time for this. I'm not asking you to. I don't want my name in this mess. Which should go to show you how serious I am about this."

She delicately picked the wristband off the table and extended it toward Benji. It was cocked open, like a mouth about to snap shut. "You're never going to see me again. Lux can ask me for the code and get it off later, if you want. But right now—please."

There was something familiar in her eyes, enough that Benji took the band from her. He grasped it with the tips of his fingers. He didn’t know who he was doing this for.

The clink of the double orange bands on his wrist felt impossibly loud as Lenora led him down the corridor.

***

Lux hacked bloody phlegm onto the grass and looked up. "What the hell are you doing?"

Benji finished removing his soaked shirt and tossed it aside. Lux blinked at him from where he was hunched on the ground. "Acid burns. They’re only going to get worse the longer it's on my skin." With a curt nod, he started on his jeans. He watched Lux lurch forward and grab the shirt, then bring it to his mouth. Benji shivered.

“Felix?”

The pred had a white-knuckle grip on the fabric, pulling against his clenched teeth. Benji watched his clothing slide down Lux’s throat, a pale imitation of a shed skin. Lux reached out in the dark, and Benji backed away toward the car.

He tried to take stock of their situation. He knew he wasn’t going to find a solution in here, but it felt safer than waiting outside. His eyes searched the cabin and landed on a neatly folded pile of fabric on the backseat. Desperate for anything that would make him feel less exposed, Benji grabbed whatever was on top and started pulling it onto his body. He startled at the frenetic laugh that jumped from his lips when he recognized it as a Facility uniform.

He heard a low bellow from outside, a ghostly groan, and shuddered. He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped the endless folds of black fabric around him. Lux broke off into a fit of wet coughs. Benji managed a shaky breath and reemerged.

“Felix?” Benji stood in the light, fracturing the beam around his shadow. He saw something shift in the dark beyond.

“Get back in the car, Benji.” Lux’s voice was a croak.

“I need to call—” A hulking shadow appeared to his left and Benji nearly lost his nerve. He swallowed and tried again. “We need to call Lenora. If you give me your phone—”

Lux stepped close enough that the diffuse light glinted off his lips; Benji wasn’t sure whether it was saliva or blood. Lux was visibly shaking.

He sank to his knees and pulled out his phone, then slid it over the dirt to where Benji was standing, stock-still and watching, like a rabbit. “It’s unlocked,” Lux managed through gritted teeth.

It took fighting against every instinct to move slowly and not dart his hand out to pick it up. Benji took a few steps away, just to the edge of the light; his feet nearly carried him back to the car, but he held firm. Lux was panting between jagged breaths.

Benji dialed the number and held the phone to his ear. It rang. And rang.

They watched each other from across the river of light, and waited.

Based on Heart Pangs by @mmmleckerlecker

[fangmaw]

misc vampire bf scene #3

Steam rolled out of the bathroom ahead of Caleb as he toweled off his hair. He stepped into the living room where Hex was reclined on the couch with a print copy of Caleb’s most recent chapter. The book was approved (finally) and the past few months he had been working with his editor to refine the “raw ore,” as she put it. Caleb figured it wouldn’t hurt to get another pair of eyes on the thing.

Caleb could only see the top of Hex’s head from here, a floppy mess of dark curls that was constantly getting in his eyes. He held the draft in one hand, taking care not to shred the page with his claws as he flipped to the next one. His other hand was near his mouth, presumably being nibbled at while he focused on reading.

“What have you got there?”

Hex rolled onto his stomach to view Caleb and waved the pages over the arm of the couch. His opaque eyes were bright as he watched Caleb approach.

“I see. Thoughts?”

Caleb watched Hex swallow quickly before he spoke. “Lord Montgomery is an asshole.”

With a chuckle, Caleb settled onto the arm of the couch, forcing Hex to sit up. They were nearly the same height like this. Caleb darted a kiss on the top of his head. Hex grumbled and nuzzled into Caleb’s shoulder. “He’s supposed to be an asshole. Hopefully a complex and interesting asshole, but still an asshole.”

“I like the new scene with the pheasant hunt.” Hex kept his head pressed against Caleb and snaked an arm around his waist. “Mm.”

“Is there a reason you’re feeling so touchy-feely today?” Caleb returned the gesture by looping his arm around Hex’s neck, catching the side of his head in his hand and pressing his fingertips into his scalp.

Hex leaned back into the touch slightly, angling his head to look coyly at Caleb. “Did you shave just now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You smell nice.”

Caleb knew he looked like an idiot as he tried to puzzle out Hex’s question. He didn’t use aftershave—this was the twenty-first century and he was a young adult—and he hadn’t used any new products.

Hex was drawing him in, tightening his arm and sliding his face from Caleb’s chest to his shoulder, gliding his nose past the collar of his shirt … oh.

“Fresh,” murmured Hex, just below his ear, where the soft skin of his cheek curved over his jaw into his neck. Caleb was helpless to stop the flush rising in his ears. Hex must have felt the warmth in his skin, because he promptly followed his comment with a soft laugh.

The few tiny nicks Caleb had sustained stopped bleeding minutes ago; he’d nearly forgotten his clumsiness. Hex continued to nose along his jaw, persistent and curious. Caleb gripped at his hair, his train of thought again derailed.

Hex murmured into his warm skin, and Caleb felt the wash of his breath against it.

“You’re such a tease.” Caleb could feel him smiling. Before he had a chance to defend himself, Hex tightened his grip and fell back onto the couch, dragging Caleb down on top of him. Caleb yelped and  squirmed, and Hex loosened his arms just enough to give Caleb a chance to adjust before he locked him in place, returning his mouth to the reddened skin.

Caleb let himself become dead weight, relishing the purr that came from Hex’s chest beneath him. Hex increased his exploration of the side of Caleb’s face, running his hands along his back until one pressed over his shoulder blade, the other cradling his skull. He continued inhaling, placing the occasional kiss in his wake, until he found his target. He parted his lips and pressed his tongue to the tender skin, sending a shiver through Caleb. Drool was sliding freely from his mouth, burying the human man’s blush as the curious tongue ran along his cheek.

Someone knocked at the door and Caleb nearly jumped out of his skin. Hex clenched his arms around his catch and growled protectively.

“Just a-”

“Jesus, Hex!”

Caleb twisted his head as much as he could to see May letting herself into the apartment.

“Close the door!” Caleb barely got the words out before Hex resumed his task, having decided that there wasn’t a threat.

May waved dismissively and shut the door with her elbow as she removed her shoes.

“Glad to see you’re keeping your monster boyfriend well-fed. It would be a real bummer to find out he ate you.”

“Just...hang on.” Caleb grumbled and wriggled until Hex relinquished control. Once he was upright he gave himself a second to focus and wipe the saliva off his face. “Ugh.”

May snorted and pulled her legs up into the chair across from the two of them.

“You’re early.”

At the same time, Hex pitched in, “Hey May.” He crossed his arms and leaned his head back on the arm of the couch.

May gestured to the vampire outstretched beneath Caleb. “This one has manners!”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Sorry, you just caught me by surprise.”

[fangmaw]

The Prince’s Demise

Valmore stood before the three of them proudly and shook the blood from his blade. The throne room was otherwise empty, and a chill wind flooded in from the open doors to the balcony.

“Farewell, brother. How unfortunate you never learned the value in ambition.” The young duke turned from the slumped body toward the troupe. “Do you still intend to kill me?”

“Do our orders still stand?” Borg sounded guarded and tried to subtly get the attention of Bella from her hiding place.

“Well, as the new ruler of this land, I’d think it would be rather ridiculous to put a price on my own head, no?”

“We’ve been tricked before,” said Guidance. They held a defensive position with their hand on their dagger. “Why wouldn’t you be in league with your kin?”

“I ran a sword through his ribs, for one.” Valmore scoffed.

“He’s still breathing.” Borg nodded toward the shallow, gurgling breaths from the older man. “Despite appearances, our team is awfully effective at doing the wet work for those who would rather keep their hands clean. Might be worth shedding a little blood over.”

“I assumed mercenaries could be bought, and I assure you, I’ll pay much more than my dead brother.” Valmore toed the body with the tip of an armored boot. “Once I give the signal, my armies will seize the castle, remove the guards, and make public my victory. After my stand-in is put in place, I shall reconvene at the capital and make plans for further expansion. A party such as yours would be an excellent asset. Despite his shortcomings, my brother did have a knack for acquiring powerful curiosities. Such as a young fire mage.” He raised his voice to speak slightly over his shoulder. “Though I will admit I didn’t come here to seek you out. Merely a happy coincidence.” Valmore shrugged.

Bella emerged from behind a pillar, hands at rest along her sides. “What did you come here for? You could have picked any day to enact your coup.” Both Borg and Guidance had relaxed their stances. Guidance tilted their head slightly, newly curious.

Valmore smiled. “I heard my brother had caught himself a terrible beast. A maneater. And that he’d thrown more than a few dissenters into its jaws.” The duke bent down to attend to the fallen royal. “As a budding young emperor, a beast such as that could prove useful.”

“You’ve heard correctly.” There was suspicion in Guidance’s voice, but their tone was genial.

“And I assume the giant oval pit is where he kept it?” Valmore stood and hoisted the near-dead duke onto his shoulder. He walked across the throne room to the balcony. After a few shared glances, the three followed a few paces behind.

Standing at the rail, Valmore slumped the duke onto the stone and peered over into the sandy expanse, ringed in iron, that covered the space below them. “Are you sure it wasn’t just rumor? The cage appears empty.” Disappointment colored his voice.

Guidance ran to the rail and scanned the scene, leaning out to get a better view. Borg came up behind them and held the collar of their jacket. “Careful. You saw him last time. I doubt he’d recognize you, even if you survived the fall.”

They nodded. Valmore shrugged.

“All the same.” He shoved the unconscious body off the balcony and they collectively watched it collide with the ground like wet clay. A starburst of blood haloed its head. “Perhaps it escaped.”

Valmore turned to the trio. “Can I count on you to discreetly serve my court?”

Bella noticed a movement at the far end of the cage, hidden in the low scrub. “There!”

They all turned to see the movement slowly stretch into a serpentine form, gradual unspooling as it slithered toward the castle. In silence, they watched Tam near the body, approaching it cautiously from the side.

His scales, once a dense pattern of rich greens, had faded nearer the beige of the sand. Even at this distance, his silhouette was clearly more wiry, and his blonde hair hung lank.

“Incredible,” breathed Valmore.

“Huh,” said Borg as he crossed his arms.

It only took a few seconds for Tam to assess that the thing before him wasn’t a threat and readily devour his former master.

He used his claws as meathooks and sunk them into the duke’s shoulder and belly. Guidance noted that he didn’t even seem distracted by the blood, continuing to quickly pull the legs and hips further down his throat as hot red spurted from the wounds. The shape of the late ruler was clear through the thin skin of Tam’s torso, distorting his skeletal figure before passing deeper into his body. Already, his lips were closing over the tuft of brown hair that designated the dead man’s head. The naga rolled onto his back and lay motionless as the lump gradually settled further into his digestive tract.

Valmore watched the scene silently, enrapt.

“I take it you’ll want to keep him?” Borg nodded toward Tam. Guidance couldn’t tear their eyes away, and Bella’s gaze flicked between the three of them.

“Of course.” Valmore sounded a bit breathless. “Is it … dead?” he said, concerned.

“Just a bit underfed,” offered Guidance.

“Ha! Always such a diplomat, my brother. That won’t be a problem with me.” Valmore grinned, baring his white teeth. “Am I wrong in thinking that you seem to know the beast?”

“We’re familiar.” Reluctantly, Borg spoke for the group.

Valmore nodded. “Well, perhaps you would like to consider my offer while in transit? I leave tomorrow night with some select troops and escorting soldiers. Between the three of you, we may be able to keep casualties to a minimum.”

Guidance smirked. “He’s not very well trained.”

Valmore met her expression with wild light in his eyes. “I’d hope so. It wouldn’t do to have a picky eater for a patron.”

[fangmaw]

misc vampire bf scene #2

"That's it. We're going to the farm."

Hex lifted his head from the arm of the couch to frown at Caleb, currently standing two feet in front of him, arms crossed.

"You heard me. Get your vampire ass off the couch and grab your coat." He jangled his keys and watched Hex bury his face in a throw pillow with a groan.

"Don't wanna."

Caleb softened, but stood his ground. "You've barely moved the past three days. Last time you fed off me, I practically had to drag you away."

Hex tilted his head enough to make eye contact and regarded him for several seconds before he spoke. "I'm sorry, Caleb. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice wavered slightly as he turned away again.

"No, I didn't mean-" Caleb fumbled as he stepped up to the couch and knelt alongside his boyfriend. He slid an arm over his chest and pressed his own torso to the man's back, enveloping him. "I'm fine. I know you'd never hurt me." He felt Hex murmur in agreement. "I brought it up because it illustrates my point— you're getting hungrier."

Hex sighed and held Caleb's outstretched arm to his chest before leaning down to place a kiss on the back of his hand. "Still don't wanna."

"Well, I can't bring a sheep into the apartment without someone noticing, so it looks like we have a dilemma." At that, Hex made an effort to roll over, and Caleb quickly hopped back to his feet. 

"How do you know your aunt won't care?"

Satisfied that he'd won, at least for now, Caleb turned to hunt down a warmer jacket as he replied, "It's a massive farm. Ranch? Not important. What matters is that I know where it is, I have keys to most of the gates and outbuildings, and there's enough livestock that a couple heads can be chalked up to animal attacks without ruining anyone's livelihood."

He disappeared into the bedroom and soon returned, bearing his own fleece-lined windbreaker and a sweater for Hex. As he shrugged into the teal behemoth, he watched Hex rise and stretch his back. His face looked drawn, and the skin above his collar more taut. Before Caleb had a chance to pity him, the ghoul saw that he had returned and grinned, exposing dual rows of jagged teeth. Hex thanked him and tugged the garment on over his head.

The turtleneck hid his collar from view; unfortunate, but Caleb still had the satisfaction of knowing it was there. Since Hex didn't leave the house much, Caleb had chosen something a bit more obvious than he would have otherwise - a lovely strip of black leather, fashioned into a choker as clasped with a petite silver lock. Hex was delighted to receive it —though not surprised, as after Caleb mentioned the idea, he had to measure Hex's neck to get it fitted, and at that point the gig was well and truly up. He wore it with pride nearly every day, and frequently Caleb caught him admiring how it looked in the mirror, or absently reaching up to touch it.

Looking at the collar always stirred that needless protective instinct in his head. Hex was more than capable of destroying any possible bodily threat that came his or Caleb's way, but seeing the clear mark around his neck, bold and unabashed, he felt that responsibility anew. He wanted to care for what was his.

Idly, he wondered if Hex felt something of the same for him. They'd never explicitly talked about it before, but Hex was always so tender with him after a bite, even just a nibble. Caleb was hesitant to broach the subject. He knew Hex struggled with reconciling biological necessity with kink, but it probably wouldn't hurt to ask. Eventually. Right now, they had other priorities, and they'd all be happier and more relaxed if Hex was fed properly first.

Hex was still a bit tense in the car. The Minnesota back roads were treacherous this time of year, and it was pitch dark beyond the headlights, so Caleb was focused mostly on the asphalt ahead of them. Even so, the restlessness of his passenger was hard to miss.

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb caught him chewing at one of his claws and swatted in roughly the right direction.

"Quit that."

"You're not my mom," mumbled Hex. He did stop gnawing at the nail, though.

"No, I'm your chauffeur."

"Should've found a different driver. I always forget how small your car is." Though he couldn't see Hex's expression, Caleb could hear the smile on his voice.

Caleb chuckled a bit, and the pair fell into a silence. Caleb took it upon himself to slay the elephant in the room.

"Are you nervous because it's live animals?"

Hex didn't reply for a moment, so Caleb chanced a glance at his face. He was looking down at his hands, toying with a loose stitch at the hem of his sweater.

"I guess."

Caleb kept watching the road. They were less than twenty minutes out at this point, plus some time to find a good parking spot. He heard Hex sigh.

"It's been a really long time since I was feeding off animals regularly. I'm not sure- what if- it was different before. I was different." Hex breathed heavily. "Does that make any sense?"

With a nod, Caleb replied, "I think so. What if you think of it this way: you're always on my ass about eating something and drinking plenty of water after you have a treat; this can just be me getting payback. You don't even have a choice. I want you strong and healthy, so you'd better do as I say, or else." With a smirk, he flicked his eyes back to his partner, who was considerably more relaxed and currently mid-eyeroll.

"I hate how much that works on me."

"My psychic powers are unparalleled. And we're getting close. You had better start planning out your menu."

Turns out, cows have a lot of blood. Like, well over a gallon. Not that Hex seemed to mind.

The ghoul had whined about the cold the entire time they spent sneaking around the pasture, but now he was on his knees in the muddy snow, hunched over a limp heifer that quit kicking a good five minutes ago.

Caleb was nervously checking his phone, both for time and in case he got some last minute text from his aunt that she was coming back tonight. They were beyond the reach of the sparse lightposts framing the pasture, so even if there was someone nearby, they were as good as invisible. By the light of his phone's lock screen, Caleb could get a better view of Hex.

It was fascinating to watch. His face was magnetically pressed to the soft skin under the animal's jaw, while his hands roamed aimlessly about the body. Occasionally he would take a deep pull, struggling against the dying heart, and dig his claws into the nearby flesh, reflexively. Caleb bent lower, close enough he could see Hex's jaw work as he adjusted his grip, nosing along the stretch of muscle and making a fresh wound.

Though Caleb was tempted to place a hand on his back, he thought better of it and maintained his distance. He knew enough about animal behavior not to disrupt a predator while it was feeding. Even domestic dogs bite when they're approached incorrectly.

Caleb settled for taking a squat on the opposite side of the cow, a good few feet away, but close enough that his pathetic light permitted him vision. For a handful of further minutes, the only sounds were muffled breaths against wet fur and the crunch of Caleb's boots as he shifted his weight.

It took him a second to realize Hex had gone still.

"Hey." He would never use the word "feral" to describe Hex to his face. It was good that he was able to relax so much, especially with Caleb around, but it was always wise to test the waters after something intense like this.

"Mmph." Hex's face still hung limp off his shoulders, pressed to the animal's neck.

Caleb smirked. "You good?" Dork.

"Mm. Good cow."

With a short laugh Caleb got up. "I'm coming over, okay?" He could just discern the outline of Hex nodding against his expired dinner. Caleb surprised himself by throwing caution to the wind and kneeling in the slush. He lit up his screen and balanced the device on the massive shoulder to his left. The greenish glow let him locate Hex's hand and cover it with his mittened own. "Well, I'm glad you liked it. I'm impressed by your capacity."

Hex finally sat up, just enough to brace his forearms on the beast's back and allow Caleb a full view of the gorey mess. The animal's neck looked as though it had been run through with a garden rake, the flesh thoroughly tilled by Hex's greedy mouth. The ghoul in question tugged his hand out from under Caleb's to swipe his fingers across the dark blood cooling on his face. He laved his tongue over the digits before he looked to Caleb, grinning.

"I live to please." His suave demeanor buckled when his gut audibly complained about the rapid influx of fluid it was dealing with.

"I suppose I've never seen you really pack it away before." Caleb’s eyes widened as he watched Hex delicately push himself the rest of the way up off the animal and sit—or rather, try. The waistband of his jeans was giving him some trouble. Caleb watched him swiftly unbutton and unzip the garment with his slobbery fingers and bite back a sigh.

"Holy shit," Caleb gawked.

Hex narrowed his eyes, but he looked far too satisfied to actually emote irritation. "I'd like to see you drink a fucking cow and not bloat up a little bit." He tugged self-consciously at his sweater, now clinging tight to his midsection. He muffled a hic behind his sleeve. "Ugh."

"Swallow some air?"

"I will bite you."

"You can't possibly still be hungry."

As though it had gained sentience, Hex's stomach growled angrily.

"No way."

Hex stuck out his bloody tongue. He was always far more playful after he fed, even if he had glutted himself beyond all human decency.

"It's a freak biology thing. Eating makes me hungry. It's like snakes and stuff." Hex leaned back on his hands, far too proud of himself.

Caleb frowned slightly as he thought. "Do we need to get you another cow? Because I'm not sure I can swing that, and definitely not again next week."

"It wouldn't be much of an animal attack if they just found this lady dead and bloodless.” Hex gave the cow’s head an affectionate pat. “A good carnivore would take advantage of all that precious organ meat before abandoning its catch."

"I'd argue I caught this one," Caleb huffed.

"We can both take credit. You can barely see out here." Hex fell out of the banter to eye the soon-to-be carcass.

"You're drooling, dumbass."

"Sorry," Hex mumbled.

"Don't be. I'm happy for you. But, uh, I'm not sure I want to watch, if that's okay." Hex tried to hide his dejected expression under a guise of wiping saliva and cow off his face. Caleb's heart sank. "If I go now, I can have the car all warmed up by the time you're finished, so it'll be nice and cozy when you immediately fall asleep."

This seemed to reassure Hex, as the dopey grin was back. He stifled another soft burp. "Uh, will you be okay to get back by yourself?"

Caleb picked up his phone from its bovine perch and waggled it. "Flashlight." Hex nodded, but looked dubious. "I'll be fine. Promise." Caleb got up and did his best to brush the unmelted snow off his now slush-soaked pants.

Hex nodded and waited until Caleb was within the range of the lamps before tearing open the heifer's belly and burying his head in its chest cavity.

[fangmaw]

Execution Chamber (2/2)

The assassin was led into the room by two guards, one holding each elbow. She glowered as they opened the temple doors, ushering her into the dark.

“What’s wrong with hanging? Too old-fashioned?” The woman had stopped struggling, but let her body go limp, forcing the guards to drag her dead weight.

“The emperor chose this punishment for a reason,” said the guard to her left. They pulled a torch from the foyer wall. The assassin could see the column of light cutting into the center of the room, but the dark was otherwise impenetrable. Based on how their footsteps echoed, the chamber must be cavernous. At the edge of the light, something moved. The guards shared a quick look and resumed walking.

Halfway between the now-closed doors and the altar, the torchlight exposed the other presence in the room. Coiled around the massive stone table in the center was a giant naga, its front slicked with blood. Its head was resting on its crossed arms.  It blinked slowly at her as the guards walked closer.

It was unbelievable - the rumours were true. She noticed the two bulges settled under the scales of its upper tail. So it had been recently fed. That would explain the blood. She didn’t dare let out a sigh of relief. She’d heard of nagas used for torture, pulling air from lungs to extract answers, or serving as intelligent guard dogs, so perhaps there was a possibility of escape.

The guards continued to near the altar, and the naga pulled its tail slowly out of the way, parting the sea of slick mossy green. The humanoid torso and tail still within the light didn’t move as the rest of its body made way, and the assassin shivered at the thought of how much more of the creature was still cloaked in shadow.

At the edge of the dais, the guards stopped and both offered a curt bow. The naga hadn’t taken its eyes off the assassin. Up this close, she could see that despite the human-ness of its face, its eyes were solid yellow, only broken by the vertical slit of a pupil. A thin, purplish tongue flicked out from between its lips.

“We were not expecting you so early, Sir Naga,” said the guard to her right. The creature produced a warning hiss.

The guard to the assassin’s left carried on, “We’ve been instructed to remain in the room for this one. The emperor claims she has something of a silver tongue, in addition to being an expert lock-picker.”

The assassin huffed. “He seemed to appreciate that well enough until recently.”

The left guard shoved her shoulder before finishing. “It won’t make a difference if she’s bound. Do you understand?”

The naga looked thoughtfully at the guard before nodding. Perhaps it couldn’t speak. It would make negotiating more difficult, but at least it seemed to understand basic commands. The guards let go and retreated beyond the halo of light; she listened to their steps as the torch faded from view. This was ridiculous. She turned back to face the naga.

From behind, she heard two taps of something hard against the temple tile. The naga’s face split into an eerie grin.

The assassin smiled in return. “I feel like I should introduce myself. I’m Leaf.” The altar was utterly flooded with blood, and it was only years of training that kept her from attempting to bolt. The red was settled around the creature’s claws and cuticles, so instead of offering a handshake, she gestured invitingly. “Do you have a name?”

There was a sort of humming sound before the creature responded, “Tam.”

Leaf nodded. Valmore must really believe she couldn’t talk herself out of this one. It didn’t exactly inspire hope, but she’d proved him wrong before. “Do you speak, Sir Tam?”

“Why?” the naga spoke in a soft, if rather raspy, tenor.

The assassin forced herself to laugh. “Because I’d like to speak with you, like any other person.” Tam smiled widely and moved his head farther into the light. Leaf got a better look at his features; long, decorated hair, and the first row of dripping teeth.

“I don’t usually speak with prey.”

Leaf’s pulse spiked at that. She’d assumed that was the case by this point, but it didn’t make hearing what Valmore’s plan for her was any easier. She took a deep breath.

“I like your flowers. Very pretty,” she said. From what little she knew of nagas, they had a tendency to be rather vain. And everyone likes to be told they look nice. “Did you pick them?”

Tam cocked his head to the side.

“I’ve seen those, the juniper, blooming a ways up the mountain.”

With confusion, the naga narrowed his eyes. “I live here.” He was beginning to sound impatient.

“Do you ever leave? I’m sure you could if you wanted. You look very strong.”

The creature hummed. “I live here. It’s nice.”

Leaf nodded and took a few shaky steps forward. “I used to work for Valmore. I thought it was nice too. But when I tried to leave, he wouldn’t let me.”

“Stupid to leave,” said Tam as he began to move. He pushed off the table and held himself higher, well over twice the height of a humanoid.

Leaf’s laugh came out as more of a high-pitched bark. “I could have gotten better pay and safer jobs ten times over if I hadn’t been loyal.”

“Loyal?” Tam’s tail brushed against Leaf’s ankle, and she flinched. She took a step back and thumped directly into the wall of Tam’s serpentine body. He moved in, sandwiching her between scales and his chest.

“I’m an assassin. One of the best.”

Tam’s face was inches away now. He sniffed at Leaf’s shoulders and neck. “Not the best,” he growled.

“Of course, of course,” managed Leaf. Her breath didn’t want to stay in her lungs, even as only her ankles were constricted. “There was a misunderstanding, between Valmore and myself. You don’t -” she jerked her body away when Tam’s hands settled into a cage over her shoulders. “You don’t have to do his wet work for him.” Leaf gritted her teeth. She’d rather have met her end at the hands of a worthier assassin, but the teeth of an executioner would have to suffice.

Tam hurried to tighten his coils, immobilizing his prey. When he lifted the assassin off the ground, she squeaked, “This is a mistake, please!”

The creature parted his thin lips, inches from Leaf’s face, exposing the dripping cavern of his maw. Saliva gathered between the blades of his teeth, and rotten breath hissed up from the back of his throat.

“No mistake.” 

From their distant vantage point, the guards saw Tam circling the woman, talking, it would appear. They’d both started to worry when a sympathetic expression, or some approximation of confusion, passed over the naga’s face.

Then his body had hidden them from view, presenting a writhing mass of scales for a few moments until Tam moved away, eyes closed and hands slack at his sides while two feet jerked and twitched from his mouth. He swallowed languidly, twisting his tongue out and around one struggling calf as the body slid farther into his gullet.

The wriggling form pushed against the taut skin of the creature’s humanoid stomach. As the naga licked at its lips, the body sank deeper, joining the lumps digesting in its coils. Tam opened his eyes, training them on the guards. His eyes burned with an unknown intensity. Despite the large meal, it took less than a second for the creature to lunge across the chamber, picking up speed before hurdling over its own body to slam into the closest guard. The combined weight of his body and meal was enough to snap the man’s spine with a wet crack. His skull thudded into the tile and split like a melon. Tam leaned back enough to take a bite from his shoulder, tearing free an arm and lungs in the process. Viscera splattered out, steaming on the cool temple floor. Tam flattened one hand on the destroyed chest and flicked his eyes to the remaining guard, who gripped her readied spear.

With a snarl, the naga whipped a length of its tail from  the darkness, knocking the guard prone and her spear out of reach. As she struggled to stand on the blood-slicked floor, the tail roped over her torso, weighing her down. The oppressive muscle trapped her there as the creature finished with the first guard, slurping down organs before shoveling the crumpled carcass feet-first into its mouth.

Tam spat the dented helmet to the floor with a clatter. He was undeniably full at this point, but bloodlust drove him to continue. The weight of the guard and the assassin slowed his movements significantly as he slid to the pinned guard. Beneath him, the chilled tile pressed comfortingly against his abdomen, easing the tightness there. He growled. He’d thought eating the guard would make him feel better, but it hadn’t. He was still confused and upset for some reason he didn’t understand. Maybe the other guard would help.

He tore away the heavy pauldrons and breastplate before tackling its head. The prey squirmed, but its struggles were weak. Tam suspected he’d used more pressure than he thought constricting it. The ribs felt loose and jangly. By the time he reached the knees, he felt properly sick. This happened last time he ate something covered in armor, too. Tam swallowed forcefully, tamping down the rising bile and sucking the last of the guard behind his lips.

Afterwards, Tam lay in the temple for several minutes. Typically, the guards in the foyer would wait until Tam finished eating to report back to the emperor. Tam preferred the heat of the fire, so lingering in the temple was rare. Today, despite the stirrings of nausea in his gut, he chose to lounge. There wasn’t anyone to report back, so he had plenty of time before anything came of his indiscretion. He felt resplendent. He lay with his arms outstretched over his head, alongside the altar. Sunlight and blood dripped over his body, warm and soft, and his tail curved lazily around the room. The churning sound of his working stomach echoed in the temple, joined by Tam’s own low groan as he stretched. An acidic belch escaped from his throat.

Tam rolled onto his belly with the hope that the pressure would speed along the process. He could feel the edges of  metal armor and stiff leather jostle inside him. Another burp, this one wetter. Tam snarled in agitation, which only aggravated the sick gurgling. Resigned, the naga retreated to his private chambers.

[fangmaw]

Execution Chamber (1/ 2)

Borg, Guidance, and Bella were seated around one of the tables in Tam’s chambers, discussing their plan for the upcoming month. The naga himself was lounging on his back with his head in Guidance’s lap as they ran their fingers through his hair. His eyes were nearly closed. Every few minutes, he would reach into the wicker basket perched on his stomach and extract a chittering rat, before lazily dropping the writhing thing into his mouth. each one was small enough that it fell halfway into his esophagus without any effort on his part, and only  a single gulp would send the rodent tumbling to its fate.

Tam shifted. Maybe it was because they were so small, but the rats lingered in his human gut, each lump pushing out to form a gentle outward curve under the pale skin. The rats that had yet to die struggled, jostling the contents of Tam’s stomach and forcing an airy burp from his mouth.

He looked into the basket and saw that it was empty, the small distension at his waist the only sign there had been rats at all.

“Full?” Guidance paused the conversation to look down at Tam and pat his cheek.

“Small.” He pouted. Guidance returned to stroking his hair sympathetically, then to the discussion. Tam closed his eyes fully and crossed his arms over his chest.

He’d been asleep for some time when Valmore threw open the filigree door, unannounced. The party looked up from their conversation, and Tam stirred awake.

“Naga? You’re needed.” The glee in Valmore’s voice was sharp. Tam pushed himself up to sitting. “My council has failed me. An example needs to be made.” Valmore gestured to the man and woman who entered with him. “These two will get you ready. The first offender will arrive at the end of the hour.” His teeth glinted in his smile and he swiftly exited.

Tam leaned forward and slid to the servants. He kept his body low to the ground and stopped once he was in arm’s reach. The woman smiled and reached to scratch behind his ear, pressing her fingers into his scalp. Thick drool began to slide from his mouth, as much a reaction to the sensation and a trained response of his body, anticipating what came next.

The man pulled a cloth from his tabard and wiped away the saliva. “On your back, please.”

Tam happily complied, rolling over to expose his belly. His shoulders rested along the shallow risers around the edge of the room, so the two had an excellent angle to inspect him from. He opened his mouth wide, letting his tongue loll out and to the side. the human man dutifully ran his tweezers around each long, curved tooth, from its root to its tip, pulling free fragments of cloth and bone as he found them. Servants were allowed to keep whatever jewelry they found, but this was mostly to compensate for the high mortality rate of the position. Even when Tam was on his best behavior, it was less than safe to put your arm and head half in a naga’s mouth for an extended period of time. The position had fast turnover.

The woman brushed and tied back Tam’s hair while the man performed a short physical exam. He ran his hand over the humanoid abdomen, noting the swell where the partially-liquified rats rested.  He walked along the length of Tam’s body, following its path across the room, around the table, and its termination just beyond the boundary of the open wall.

Tam's stomach growled pitifully. He kept quiet as the woman finished weaving flowers and ribbons into the myriad plaits—offerings from the townspeople. Most couldn't afford meat, so they left decorations on the steps as a tribute.

Silently, the man and woman rejoined and gave Tam a final once-over before nodding and quickly leaving.

***

Finally, he heard the double tap of the guard’s spear, and he slid into the corridor.  It was long enough that the residual light from the private chambers faded long before the opening into the temple. Tam  could hear struggling, sounds of effort and the rattling of shackles. He hissed in approval. The sounds stopped, then resumed with fervor.

Two men were manacled to the altar. It was midday, and the heavy stone blocked out  the sun absolutely, save for the beam that bore down at the temple’s core. The shifting of Tam's scales against the tile sent a soft shushing sound echoing around the room as he entered and began to glide along the perimeter.

“Who’s there?” The larger of the two men, slightly taller and much brawnier, tugged frantically against the cuffs. His eyes were squinted, trapped in the light and unable to see the predator. 

“For fuck’s sake Cal, be quiet!” the other one spat. Tam could smell the blood where the big man had broken the skin at his wrists.

Tam stayed his movement but let the end of his tail drag over the illuminated dais. The yelling man’s eyes widened at the tree trunk-sized length of muscle and scale. His eyes searched the room and found nothing.

“You’re clearly not an animal,” said the yelling man. His voice was quieter and shaky now. “You seem smart. My brother and I, we’re not criminals. This is a mistake.”

Tam’s laugh was a harsh, croaky sound that made the big man jump.

The man went on. “Talk to us, please.” He continued to struggle with the locks.

Tam decided to play along. He slithered to the center of the room, turning circles so that by the time he rose into the column of light, his tail formed a meters-high wall around the altar.

He loomed over the stone slab as the sun caught on his shoulders, casting his shadow onto the manacled morsels. He grasped his hands over the edges of the altar, pinning down the little bit of slack left in the chains. Both the little hearts were throwing themselves at their respective ribcages, begging to be devoured. A thick glob of drool  escaped from Tam’s maw and collided with the altar.

The big man started screaming, throaty, awful shrieks, and Tam lunged down, snapping his jaws over his head and severing his neck.  Tam could feel the hot breath and snot from the panicked face on his tongue, and with a sharp twist, pulled the head the rest of the way free.

He swallowed, and looked back down at the body with a growl. Hot blood poured from the ragged stump, flooding the altar. Tam flicked his eyes to the other man.

“Loud.”

The man nodded stiffly. His eyes were fixed on the corpse, now flopped limply to the floor. The manacles caught at the wrists, holding its arms in the air like a ghoulish marionette.

“We- I- I crossed the emperor. I’m not a criminal,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word. “I have money- land!” The man tried desperately to temper his voice. “Let’s bargain. Please.” He looked up at the naga with watery eyes.

Tam had stopped paying attention. He licked at the blood collected at the corners of his lips. The naga leaned down and locked his claws into the body, puncturing deep between its ribs with a wet squelch. He tugged away from the altar, and its wrists yielded before the iron, the skin and muscle peeling off like wheat chaff.

Tam didn’t bother with the clothes, merely sliding his mouth over its shoulders and pushing the limp thing deep into his throat. In a few gulps, he pulled his claws free of the torso, then returned the pressure with blunt palms. The living man watched the bulge ease through the creature’s throat as blood pooled in the gutters of its lips and spattered onto its chest. Tam leaned back as he took a final deep pull and closed his jaw. He locked his eyes on the other prey as he swallowed the feet.

[fangmaw]

misc vampire bf scene #1

Hex grumbled and shifted on the couch, pressing his face more firmly against Caleb's thigh. The ghoul has been in and out of sleep for the past half hour or so, and had begun drooling on Caleb's jeans. Despite being broader and taller than Caleb by a significant measure, Hex found a way to curl up on the couch so Caleb was forced to wrap around him. Caleb carefully closed his laptop and set it aside, freeing his hands to brush along Hex's shoulder. Even under the heavy knit if his sweater, Caleb could feel the warp of his muscle. He pushed a little harder, hoping to gently rouse his partner.

"Hey, movie's over."

Caleb could feel Hex shift slightly as he began to wake up, but it was obvious when the larger man startled back to life, reflexively tensing for a moment before pushing himself up.

"Sorry to wake you up. I'm just looking out for your sleep schedule." Caleb smiled at the hulking shape pressed against his side.

Hex yawned, exposing a mouth full of bladed teeth, wet and dripping. He noticed the crust on his face and wiped at it with his sleeve as he cast his eyes downward.

"Was I drooling on you?"

Caleb laughed. "Don't worry about it. Hell, if you didn't get all slobbery with your face pressed against my delicious leg-meat, I'd be offended." Caleb rotated so his back was pressed against the arm of the couch.

Hex rolled his eyes. If Caleb didn't know better, he'd say the other man was blushing. "I was at a weird angle, shut up."

Grinning, Caleb reached for the arm nearest him and tugged Hex closer. Hex humored him by following the gentle tension to face Caleb.

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact you're long overdue for a treat. It's been what, two weeks?"

Hex fidgeted and stared at his knees. "Two and a half," he mumbled.

Caleb gasped with mock incredulity. "How are you still upright? You must be famished."

"You're such a dork," said Hex. He twisted and stretched to  follow Caleb, allowing the thin man to place his hands in his shoulders. Now poised above him, he sank lower, letting the lines of their bodies press together.

"Sure, but I'm a tasty dork." Caleb barely finished his quip when Hex let his head fall into a wet kiss. It was brief, barely a step up from licking, and quickly moved as his mouth roved farther along his cheek and jaw.

"Mm." Caleb could feel the hum of Hex's voice against the tendons of his neck, and the brush of his dark curls against his ear. He brought up a hand to grip the base of Hex's head and press him closer, but was thwarted when a clawed hand pulled it away as Hex sat up. Caleb frowned in confusion and propped himself up on his elbows.

"I don't want to wreck your shirt. I like this one."

"What, not monster enough to rip it off me?" Caleb smirked.

Hex growled low in his chest, eyes dark.

"Fine, fine."

Hex crossed his arms and watched Caleb obediently unbutton his shirt, peeling it off while Hex maintained his straddle over him on the couch. Once the garment was deposited in a heap on the floor, Hex didn't hesitate to pin him fully to the couch and latch onto his shoulder.

Surprised, Caleb winced, and Hex quickly let go and twisted his head to see his expression. Red just painted the center of his lips as he blinked back, concerned.

"Go on, then." Caleb smiled and jostled Hex back into place as well as he could from his disadvantaged position.

Hex returned to the bite tenderly, closing his mouth over the wound with more precision. His body relaxed, boneless on top of Caleb. Christ, he was heavy. Under the leaden blanket of the ghoul the rest of the world got farther away. Caleb rolled his head to the side, straining the torn skin and pulling a quiet growl, nearly a purr, from Hex. He moved one arm up from its awkward position flung across Hex's back to cradle the man's head. Hex slid down slightly, away from the bite, to rest an ear over Caleb's heart. His eyes were barely open and a dumb smile was plastered over his bloody face.

Even after such a brief contact, Caleb could feel himself brimming with adrenaline. As much as his brain loved the sensation, his body always defaulted to fight or flight after Hex dug his teeth into his skin. He imagined it was something like the buzz people talked about after getting a tattoo. Despite the beast falling asleep on his chest, Caleb felt giddy with energy.

Hex shifted his weight again and moved back to Caleb's shoulder. He attended to the drips seeping from the neat twin arcs carved into the skin. The texture of his tongue was silken against the peach fuzz at the base of his throat. Slowly, Hex laved over the entire area, meticulous at first, but gradually growing more sloppy as the taste of the skin itself became a distraction.

As he sat back, Hex tilted his head to the side and let his eyes run over Caleb's body. The last couple bites were nearly healed, just dark pink dimples etched into his upper arm. They tried not to go over the same place too many times in a row, but there were clearly favorites. There was a scattering of silvery scars over the tops of his thighs, though those were mostly disguised by his hair, fine as it was.  Similar scars were clustered along the sides of Caleb's throat, much more obvious on the delicate skin. He knew Hex felt guilty for leaving such permanent marks somewhere so prominent, despite Caleb's reassurances. They'd both been learning then.  They had become something of a fixation, a spot of special attention whenever Hex had the chance to get his mouth on his body. Caleb shivered at the mere thought of his lips against the sensitive skin.

[fangmaw]

Big Bad Wolf

This is a fanfic based on Heart Pangs by @mmmleckerlecker ! Absolutely go read it if you haven’t already!

This fic diverges from Heart Pangs at the end of Chapter 48. After his interaction with the collector, Lux changes his mind about his newly acquired prey. When he returns to the hotel, Benji is gone. We begin as a starving Lux finds Benji—and the aftermath of Benji's rescue attempt.

The door was knocked in, laying in splinters across the threshold. Lux stopped short for a precious second at the horror of it, an ugly gash interrupting an otherwise picturesque scene. The house was quiet, and a soft yellow glow peeked out from the curtains. Then the breeze shifted and he smelled the blood.

The room was unrecognizable. The entire stretch from the door to the kitchen was pooling, sopping red, seeping into the carpet and under the wreckage of furniture strewn about the space. Lux swallowed hard, the scent of fear electric over prey. His eyes locked on the trembling figures huddled in the mess, and the struggle to process the tableau kept his mind occupied just enough not to lunge for his target on sight.

Camille was hunched against the far wall. Her body and face were plastered with deep acid burns and she was struggling to stay conscious, but Lux could hear the rapid shudder of her heart—and smell the twist of bile rising off her skin. Any questions he may have had were answered in the next moment when he found Benji, camouflaged beside a massive corpse. Both were absolutely soaked with blood, and indistinguishable viscera piled at Benji’s knees. Rattling breaths shook his tiny frame. Alive. Lux took a step closer and smelled Benji’s blood through the pred’s—hurt.

With a gasp, Benji twisted to face Lux, staring up at him in wide-eyed horror and brandishing a knife. Blood flicked off the blade and landed amongst the other blood. Benji kept his grip on the knife, extended arm shaking while the other hung awkwardly at his side. Lux dropped to his knees like he’d been shot.

“Benji,” he breathed. The scent of the Marottas, their blood and their house, washed over his tongue like smoke, fleeting and vibrant. The whites of Benji’s eyes were stark against the gore covering his face. Lux began to crawl forward, one arm outstretched. “Your shoulder…”

Benji scrambled back, dropping the knife immediately. His limbs tangled with the dead pred’s and Lux finally saw the face for the first time. Cecil. Even gutted like a fish he looked smug.

He shouldn’t think like that. The man was dead. He should...Felix didn’t know what he should do. He was confused, and hungry, and Benji—

“You.” Camille’s sharp hiss caught his attention. Lux glanced over to see that Benji had pushed himself fully away from Cecil and was rising to his feet.

Lux stayed on his knees, one hand planted firmly in the blood and the other curled against his stomach. They were alive. They were both alive, and here—and afraid. Camille was talking, babbling in shock, a scattered stream-of-consciousness that would have been difficult to follow even if Lux had been fully present. Something about the Facility—they’d come with cars, or Cecil’s car, but they’d left when they saw it was just her, just one scared prey and not an Epomis nest. Cecil had taken it from there.

Lux couldn’t take his eyes off the body. He could see flitting movement in his peripheral vision as Benji and Camille assessed the state of each other, nervous and quick in a way that gripped his stomach like a vise. Every second twisted further, tugging his rational mind deeper into the black hole of his gut. He snarled and the Marottas froze.

“They’ll come back. The Facility.” Lux winced as hunger shot through him. His fingers twitched against his will. The house was silent for a moment.

“Or McMullen,” Benji whispered.

Camille and Lux both looked toward him as he took a slow breath.

“I was thinking on the drive here. It had to have been- if he doubted your loyalty… it would be easy enough to tip them off.”

Camille paled, as much as she could under the burns. “He gave me a new mission. In front of everyone. I was supposed to hunt you down.” She stared at Lux. “I was supposed to disappear.”

The thought was too much. Lux shook his head and staggered to his feet. “No, no … you…” His thoughts kept dissolving into ugly instincts. “I have to do this. Keep you safe.”

Lux was far too distracted to see the horror on Camille’s face at his words, the way her fingernails gripped the ruined fabric of Benji’s shirt. He didn’t see Benji’s grim expression as he grabbed Cecil’s wrists and began dragging the limp form down the hall. They both stayed frozen in the kitchen for the few seconds it took to get Cecil into the bathroom.

By the time the spell broke, Lux had managed to wedge himself and the body into the tiny room. His hands were slick with tepid blood as he folded Cecil against the sink and braced himself against the door. Benji knocked on the wood, sending shockwaves through the muddle of Lux’s mind.

“Felix?”

Lux let his back slide down the door until he was seated on the tile, face-to-face with Cecil. He felt Benji turn the knob, but it was held fully shut by the weight of Lux’s body between them.

“Felix, I need you to tell me what’s happening.” His voice was still shaky, but growing firmer. Lux inhaled, sinking under the scent of the house, of the man behind the door. He could almost ignore the cloying smell of pred blood smeared across his body. He reached out and gripped Cecil’s hair.

“Let me in. Please.” Benji’s voice came from the base of Lux’s skull. He shook his head.

“I can’t.” Lux twisted his fingers in the pred’s hair and heaved his body onto his lap. “Go help Camille.” He waited for two of his own slow, ponderous heartbeats, but Benji stayed where he was. It didn’t matter. Lux had to do this now, before he came to his senses.

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth.

It was repulsive. Every second he was confronted with the wrongness of his position, the stretch in his jaw and the taste on his tongue. At the same time, Benji’s nervous movements inches away made his mouth water. The towels beside him smelled of Camille, of life. The contrast with the limp thing in his throat was jarring, but the reminder—alongside his bullheadedness—were the only things keeping Lux from retching.

Each fraction of an inch was a struggle, but the pred remained unphased. He knew his body was capable of this. He felt Cecil’s form begin to curl as it entered his stomach and faltered, knocking his shoulder against the sink.

“Felix!” came a yelp from beyond the door.

Lux squeezed his eyes close. He could do this, he thought. For Benji.

For once, he wasn’t hurting anyone. Well, anyone else.

Even as the clumsy limbs of the dead pred strained against him, his stomach gripped and twisted around its new contents, growling inquisitively. Lux groaned as he passed Cecil’s hips, half in pain and half in relief. Benji rattled the knob, but he remained quiet. Now that the man had been mostly consumed, Lux had space to lean forward slightly, trying to get some leverage to hurry the process along. He was in for a god-awful next few days, and he’d rather get it over with.

His pants had already been pushed aside by the wretched stretch of his belly, but Lux took a moment to properly unbutton the waistband. In the same way, the loose t-shirt he was wearing had ridden up nearly to his chest, framing the painful skin beneath. Not that his clothes would have done anything to really hide a prey belly, but at least he wouldn’t feel so exposed, so lurid in that situation.

Finally, finally he reached the end, gripping the feet and ramming the limbs into his throat with as much force as he could muster. A sharp pain struck his side and he held back a gasp, biting into the fabric around the ankles. Lux was fully laying down now, curled on his side. He pulled and swallowed and prayed this nightmare would be over as the knob rattled again.

The body was gone. Lux felt the last awkward bend as his organs rearranged themselves around his stomach. A low burp startled him, bringing with it the beginnings of a heave. Lux grit his teeth and held it down. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he threw up right now, but he didn’t want to find out. Already, his stomach was whining as digestion kicked in. It wasn’t that Lux felt full. God, this was lightyears beyond the pleasant tightness of a prey curled up inside him. Lux felt inert. Neutralized.

The door opened, pushing Lux’s feet out of the way just enough that Benji could slide in.

“No, please…” Lux tried to curl away, but the distension of his middle forced his limbs into a cramped sprawl. He settled for turning his face toward the tile floor.

Benji approached slowly, deftly maneuvering around the tangle of Lux’s body. His stomach clenched as the prey kneeled down beside his head.

Lux became aware of his own heavy breathing, practically panting after the strain of the ordeal. Over the next minute, Benji’s breath went from shallow to consciously deep, each exhale a little victory over his fear. The weighty silence was broken by the snarl of Lux’s gut. He winced.

“I’m sorry, Benji.” 

“Are you okay?”

Lux opened his eyes. From his position, he had to look up to see Benji’s face. He was still drenched in blood, but his eyes were familiar. Resolute.

“I’m-” Lux froze, unsure. Something shifted in his stomach and he whimpered. Desperate. Pathetic. Neutralized. He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

“It hurts, Benji.” He looked up again, to see Benji’s slow nodding. “God, you don’t need to see this.”

“I’m not leaving.” There was no aggression, no sadness in his voice. Just a statement of fact. Benji sighed. “He consumed Camille. I thought she was gone. I…” Benji went still.

“You saved her.”

“I killed him.”

Lux frowned. “And I consumed him.”

After a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah. Yeah you did.”

“We’re going to figure this out. With Epomis, and Camille, and-” he paused as his stomach rolled, threatening him. “Ugh. The Facility.”

Benji laughed, short and bright. “Big talk coming from you, given-” he waved his hand in the general direction of Lux’s belly, “-this.”

“Mm.” Lux knew he was rapidly losing coherence as all his body’s energy went into breaking down its unexpected meal. The relief of earlier finally caught up with him, dragging down his eyelids; Benji was beside him and he could hear Camille moving about the living room. They were safe. Even if it was fleeting, they were safe.

It could have been a dream when Lux felt Benji curl up against his chest. He seemed unsure at first, wary of the warped skin, but relaxed when Lux hummed in approval. The writhing of his traitorous stomach was an afterthought as he felt the gentle rise and fall of Benji’s shoulders against his body.

This is a fanfic based on Heart Pangs by @mmmleckerlecker !