hit me with your killshot, baby

18+ Only || Main Account Mutuals Only

[notsafeforabyss]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕟 𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕒𝕣

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕕, 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ18+ only ✧ credit

[chaoticneutralwife]

If u don’t get the primal feral urge to fuck me every time you see me then I don’t want it

[lover-suggest]

i am looking disrespectfully. absolutely no respect in my gaze

[notsafeforabyss]

(Yeah, no, this checks out completely-)

[notsafeforabyss]

@kanedoji:

[ ask ]

Aias has always known of monsters: The nightmares beneath his childhood bed, kept only at bay by a diligent Father's vigilant eye. The obedience-makers that kept would-be young adventurers safe inside their homes at night. The vile beasts in the stories that the heroes prevailed over with their righteous justice. The types of monsters that followed a formula, who delighted in wickedness and preyed upon foolishness, always a means to an end.

But Aias had never really known monsters. Not then. Not like he does now. Because monsters are not things to be known. Monstrosity is a state of being. Something grotesque. Something unforgivable. Something unstoppable. And once Aias realized that? Oh, of course he endeavored to be the biggest monster this world has ever seen.

So it's cute, really, how the Oni calls himself a monster. Like all it takes to be one is fang and claw and hunger. As if these are not simple things that every animal trying to survive possesses. And he's just so skittish...

Until he's not. All it takes is a touch, a taste, to make him succumb to his lust and his hunger. Such a ravenous, base creature.

Aias adores him. It's been a long time since he's found such a durable playmate, so willing to draw blood and eager to taste it. It's so charming how Itto doesn't balk from his violence- no, he seems to revel in it, with a type of fervor that feeds into his own delirium like a house on fire. Aias feeds it and feeds it until the flames finally threaten to swallow him whole.

The vice grip of a clawed hand around his throat. An arm like a tree branch pinning him down, driving the breath out of his lungs. For a fleeting, terrifying moment, his foolish body thinks itself to be merely human and the euphoria of staring death in the face draws an almost animalistic keen from his throat, his favorite, sickening cocktail of pleasure-fear drawing another spasm from his spent cock.

And then he remembers himself and laughs. A hysterical, breathless laugh that barely squeaks its way out. A bitten tongue swipes along his amused smirk, highlighting his smugness.

(Because there is only one true monster currently in this room. And his death toll is in the thousands.)

"Brute~" the Harbinger chokes out as if he isn't just as rough, as if he doesn't immediately reach up with both hands and grab hold of each crimson horn before yanking him down closer with all his strength. Another rough kiss is forced onto his lips, the Oni's tongue coaxed into his own mouth so that he can dig his own pointed canines into it hard enough to draw even more blood.

Aias might not need it like the other does, but it's still such a unique flavor- he can't help but moan as he swallows it down. It satisfies that aching, rattling cavern in his chest that only wants to see the world burn. That same darkness seeps into his voice as his coy tone deepens into a guttural snarl, "You can fucking try."

[kuuhaiyu]

stupid itto sex comic #SEX #STUPID #HAPPYPRIDE

[floresanguine-deactivated202412]

eye contact while i slowly push it in (my knife)

[notsafeforabyss]

✨️Feral and Ruttable✨️

[minstrxll]

notsafeforabyss​:

Keep reading

[notsafeforabyss]

For a long time now, Tartaglia has experienced the world through a thick fog. It’s as if the darkness he’d crawled out of clung to his eyes, making the colors of the world just a little duller than he remembered- the smells fainter- the food a little less flavorful- until he couldn’t remember the way things used to be at all. A dreamlike haze interspersed with beautiful moments of vivid clarity, centered around the physical thrill and feel of battle.

Skating on death's edge is the highest high he’s ever reached. Pleasure is a close second, but even sharing a bed isn’t enough to give him that same intense technicolor rush.

At least, it wasn’t before.

Scaramouche digs into the dullness like it’s nothing so much thicker than the peel of an orange and wrenches it off, cloudy layer by layer, inch by agonizing inch. It feels like being flayed alive, like the skin is peeling off his bones, like the sun is bleaching his eyes, like pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain, and everything is so much, too much, no more, no more-

He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling anymore, just that he’s feeling in the most bloody-raw and bruise-tender way. It almost feels like he should smell copper, feel gouges in his skin, but all that fills his senses is the erratic pounding of his eardrums, the smell of burnt ozone and salty sweat-tears-cum; a marine thunderstorm somehow louder than the gaping maw always rattling in his chest, apocalyptic enough to swallow his mind whole.

Below the chaos there is a faint murmur of conversation that he barely registers. Someone is begging in a slurred drawl, cut through with yelps and whines like a kicked animal. Sickly sweet coos drip from someone else’s lips, as if they’re trying to soothe it before putting it out of its misery. If he could string together a single coherent thought, he might find both disgustingly pathetic. ‘At least die with dignity,’ he might think. Or, ‘At least don’t pick on weaklings, finish it quickly.’

Then he hears that cooing voice say his name, soft and slow and melodic, “Tar-tag-lia~”

And realizes the victim is him.

The thunderclouds overhead break open, drenching him in a torrential rain of ice-cold humiliation and shame. The stinging in his eyes isn’t sweat. It’s tears. And for what? comes the vicious self-accusation. He hasn’t broken a single bone, hasn’t lost any limbs- for Archon’s sake, he hasn’t even lost any blood. He’s not weak. Indignant fever-hot anger rises up in him like bile.

With a surge of renewed energy, he yanks on his restraints hard enough to make the headboard creak from the strain. Like a cornered animal, with wild-eyes and teeth bared, he finally barks out a hoarse, snarling, “Stop.”

[notsafeforabyss]

@orecrowned:

Morax looks him up and down, reaching out and dragging a clawed hand across his waist.

"How much can I fit inside you? Shall we see?"

Considering the Harbinger's disheveled style of dress, there really is no barrier between Morax's claws and his bare skin. They leave pink, raised lines in their wake- an almost coy touch when his body remembers exactly how it feels to have them really dig in.

Phantom pains light up his nerves like the afterimage of fireworks burned into the backs of his eyelids. He inhales, exhales, breath shaking ever so slightly.

How exciting.

"Oh, well, that depends..." he murmurs, low and thoughtful. "What exactly are you trying to put in me?" For any normal couple, this sort of line might be delivered in jest. After all, there's only so many things one's intimate partner might do to them, reasonably speaking.

Morax is not reasonable. Aias watches him intently, dull eyes dark and wary, but undeterred.

[notsafeforabyss]

@snowtombedstar:

pro: very few boundaries?

con: very few boundaries—

"Oh, Temka! You seem to have accidentally written the same thing twice, but I think I understand. I simply have no negative qualities." The serene smile of a man who knows exactly what this means and is choosing to disregard reality.

[notsafeforabyss]

@aniimxses:

(Yelan)

Pro: Lots of fun and money~ Two of my favorite things.

Con: You'll keep coming back. Sorry, sweetheart, but you come across as more of a one-hit wonder~ you know what I mean?

Derisive scoff. "One-hit wonder? I think not. I'm a cult classic, baby!"

[notsafeforabyss]

@minstrxll:

Pro: Literally only a temporary, fleeting cure for boredom.

Con: Everything else.

"Hmmm... So what you're saying is, my pro still outweighs all those cons. Quite curious!" Smug smile.

[notsafeforabyss]

@steadfastspirits:

Pro: Based on preliminary research, sexual intimacy is one method by which humans showcase their affection. On a more personal level, it may lead to new discoveries into what Aias finds enjoyable; somehow, his joy is infectious.

Con: Judging by Aias' insatiable nature, a lack of sexual interest may cause that form of intimacy to be unsatisfactory.

Further research required, as well as additional methodology. Hands-on experience preferred. First-hand observation with a sufficient research pool unlikely due to sensitive nature of subject matter.

[- excerpt from a personal study on human sexuality by one whole Kreideprinz]

Aias was not expecting his humorous question to receive such a serious answer. He scans the piece of paper that's been handed to him several times, a rather uncharacteristic, flustered sort of expression overtaking his usual roguish features.

Searching for a witty remark in reply:

Sass.exe has stopped working.

Overcome, he claps a hand on the alchemist's shoulder and squeezes it. "...I would die for you-"

[notsafeforabyss]

@lapisdex:

Rex sees no cons, only pros

Pleased Harbinger noises. Someone is getting a treat later tonight.

[notsafeforabyss]

@kanedoji:

NIPS

Foolish Oni. He's put himself in biting range.

Chomps him right on the mouth.

[notsafeforabyss]

@kanedoji:

Pro: Probably the best sex he’s ever had >:|

Con: FREAKY SEX CULT—

"A cult? Does this mean that you worship me now?"