It may get a bit personal here but I want you guys to understand why I haven't been here and why I am doing this. And if you don't wish to stick around for with me on this whole new adventure I have planned? That is completely fine Ꮚ^ꈊ^Ꮚ ♡
Baaaa hello peeps Ꮚ^ꈊ^Ꮚ it's been awhile more like months since I've last posted here and there is a reason to why I haven't been on this blog or active in the fandom.
I've mostly lost my drive for Diabolik Lovers, don't get me wrong it will always have a place in my heart and I've made incredible friends, met sweet mutuals and had a fantastic time there! I loved it truly but I've always wanted to do more with this blog and it's ocs; I've always wanted to share more of the ideas I had stored away for years. Ideas that I've written down and expanded on for the future of this blog ;w;
So instead of abandoning or outright deleting, I'm going reboot it; bascially give it a fresh start and even repurpose my ocs-even Abriel, Christa and Cherie will receive this treatment too (I've grown attached to them and refuse to abandon them). Most of the ocs here will their personalities fixed up or even tweaked a little, hell I may even redo a whole character if I feel it's not quite right. I also have more ocs that I want to share with you guys.
The truth is I've wanted to expand on the ideas I have stored away and show them here for a long while. There's so much new material I've written over the past couple of months, a whole world created, in-depth lore and so much more! And I want to share that with you guys ᏊꈍꈊꈍᏊ
Now I won't promise an exact date of when the new content will come out because I've been working over 40+ hours during the Covid-19 pandemic, I now work overnight shifts and life in general tends to get busy, I'm truly sorry guys ;w; But do not fret! I will do my absolute best and try my hardest working on the new content I have planned!
There's so much I have planned and I can't wait to share it uwu There will also be le gasp rules here too.
What will happen to the rest of the posts here? Like the fun facts, skits, text messages and much more? Those will be reposted here again, but things like my writing I'm going to fix any grammatical errors. Honestly I have a lot to get through Ꮚ˟ꈊ˟Ꮚ My hope is that I do get through everything, make it clean and organized; fixing the chara page and even fix those godforsaken tags ;v;
Aaah if you made it this far, thank you for reading and see me ramble ;w; No but seriously thank you for taking the time to read this. Again I hope you guys will love the new journey I'm about to take you through.
『"Hiiiiiiiiiiiii~ :D Oh sorry! Didn't mean to spook you~ Its how I walk :D"』
It only took me 84 years to get her done LMFAOOOOO Heres my baby girl, the local cryptid of NRC:
Camila Angelos ♡
Template credits!: @unfinished-projects-galore
Art credits!: I must thank the lovely @kasumiube for bringing Camila to life and the wonderful @alalnsted for making Cami's merfolk form ;w; 💛 I cannot recommend them enough! Please check them out on both Tumblr and VGen!
Name: Camila Angelos
Nicknames: Sea Devil, Black Devil, Angel, Little Light (Mr. Don), Goldie (by Floyd), Cami (by Calliope), Fish (by Leona), and Glowstick.
Gender: Female
Age: 19 (physical appearance)
Birthday: March 18
Star Sign: Pisces
Family: Mr. Don (adoptive father, mershark)
Height: 5’5 (human form)
Appearance: The only way to describe her is a typical bimbo looking female decorated in pastel colors. She specifically chose her human appearance to look like this because she found it cute and aesthetically appealing. While still making it safe and easy for humans to approach her. She appears as a young woman of average height with pale peach skin, green painted nails and a slim thick, hourglass figure with large breasts. Has serrated sharp teeth. She wears big sunglasses due to her sensitive eyes from artificial lighting. Camila deliberately chose her human appearance for others to approach her more easily; this both worked and backfired.
Her hair is long to her mid back, it's the color of a ripe banana which fades to sea green highlights on the end, it's wavy and wild with messy bangs that she has no idea what to do with them half the time. She's not good at styling her hair so it's always down or she's hiding her bed head with her beanie-on rare occasions she has it in a ponytail or a braid when she's doing her job as a hostess or practicing in Spelldrive. In her mermaid form, it's dark brown with no highlights. Her eyes are light sea blue in her human appearance, though they are extremely sensitive to harsh artificial lighting, she wears special sunglasses so her eyes don't hurt. Sunlight only irritates them more because she's never seen the sun until being brought up to the Surface, she's still adjusting to it. Her actual eyes are white with black sclera, which work perfectly in absolute pitch darkness. Unlike most merfolk in the Sunlit Zone, with colorful lower halfs, her lower half is that of a deep sea Anglerfish and is in natural colors to blend in with the darkness. Has a beauty mark under her right eye, outer corner. Has freckles over her nose to her cheeks, and also has them on her arms and upper back. Has a full sleeve Japanese-style tattoo on her left arm which does show in her mermaid form: it has large orange and gold koi fish, flowing white-crested waves, bold pink and yellow lotus flowers with a deep charcoal/almost black background for contrast with strong movement lines wrapping her entire left arm.
In her merfolk form, since she lives all the way down in the Midnight Zone, it's not beautiful in the traditional sense of mermaids having been heavily romanticized throughout history. She is every bit a monster in an eerie, haunting, and predator-like way; her home prioritizes efficiency and survival over good looks.
Merfolk Form (anglerfish):
Night Raven Uniform:
Her Arm Tattoo (left):
Homeland: The Midnight Zone (Coral Sea)
Dorm: Octavinelle
School Year: 1st year
Class: A (No.29)
Occupation: Student, Hostess at Monstro Lounge
Club: Spelldrive
Best Subject: Alchemy
Favorite Food: Anything seafood and meat, mostly crustaceans (she loves a loud CRUNCH).
Least Favorite Food: Anything sweet or sour, vegetables and spicy.
Dislikes: Artificial lighting (her eyes are sensitive).
Hobby: Making ASMR videos for magicam and scrimshaw.
Talents: Silent Movement
『PERSONALITY』
Camila Angelos initially reads like a pastel, bubbly “bimbo” type: loud, giggly, shamelessly curious, and innocently obnoxious in a way that can overwhelm people who aren’t used to her energy (unless you're Mr. Don and Calliope). She can be an airhead, but she’s not stupid; she’s inexperienced with Surface norms because she was raised in the Midnight Zone, where social rules are different and survival instincts do most of the thinking. Under the cheerfulness is a heart-of-gold optimist who’s thrilled to be alive on land, eager to learn, and genuinely enchanted by everyday things.
Camila’s shamelessness isn’t arrogance. It’s confidence shaped by how Mr. Don raised her: direct, unflinching, and secure in what she is. She doesn’t apologize for existing, and she doesn’t perform humility to make others comfortable. At the same time, she isn’t pushy for power or attention; she’s simply bright, present, and unembarrassed by joy. She also has clear boundaries. If someone disrespects her, treats her like a novelty, presses past a “no,” or makes her feel disposable, Camila’s friendliness shuts off fast. She’s still polite, but suddenly firm and immovable.
She can handle solitude, but the old wound of being left behind, abandonment or being forgotten is one of the rare things that truly gets under her skin, because in her world, being kept safe by someone was never guaranteed.
She isn’t impressed by politics, titles, or royalty. This is not out of arrogance, but because it’s wasteful energy to her. Status doesn’t feed her, flatter her, or move her. Camila meets people as they are: a person in front of her, not a rank . Coming from the Midnight Zone, truth is measured in teeth, pressure, size, and whether you get to live to see tomorrow. That’s why someone like Leona being the second born Prince of Sunset Savanna doesn’t automatically matter to her. She doesn’t chase power, doesn’t perform deference, and doesn’t treat him like a prize; she treats him like Leona, and that sincerity can be startling to people used to being handled for what they represent.
Camila has a strange, effortless charisma: she persuades people into things without trying, which is both a blessing and a curse. When she locks onto a goal, she gets intense tunnel focus. For about two hours until distraction hits and she forgets what she was doing unless she has a tangible motivator: food, bones, or a promised “resource” works best. It’s less childish and more Midnight Zone wiring: in a world of scarcity, rewards and supplies are real proof something is worth the energy.
In extremely rare moments—usually under stress, sensory overload, or threat—her anglerfish traits show. It’s not a personality switch so much as a defensive predator display: stillness, silence, eerie calm, and a sudden edge to her smile. Artificial light can trigger this when it overwhelms her eyes, and the presence of abundant seafood can override her restraint entirely because her body reads it as “scarcity has ended, EAT NOW.” Most of the time, though, Camila is gentle by choice: she’s spent too long in darkness and refuses to waste her second life on cruelty, even when she’s fully capable of it.
However she does struggle; mostly with long-term planning and political maneuvering because again she was raised in the Midnight Zone, she’s wired for immediate survival and tangible outcomes, not abstract future promises or social hierarchies. As stated before titles, status, and long games don’t impress her; it feels like wasted energy. She also overcorrects when it comes to resources, hoarding food and supplies because scarcity was once life-or-death. Sudden shortages can quietly rattle her more than she lets on.
Bright light and sensory overload are physical weak points; when overwhelmed, she can slip into defensive stillness rather than open vulnerability. Socially, she’s very direct and sometimes misses subtle manipulation or passive aggression—not because she’s naive, but because she doesn’t instinctively operate through layered social games.
Emotionally, she’s bad at sitting with hurt. If she feels abandoned or rejected, she doesn’t explode: she adapts and withdraws. Camila is more likely to harden quietly than ask for reassurance. Academically, she excels in short bursts of intense focus but struggles with consistency and long, repetitive discipline unless the material feels practical or survival-related. And perhaps most tellingly, she’s not great at asking for help. Even now, part of her still believes she should be able to handle everything on her own.
『BACKSTORY』
Camila Angelos was born where sunlight has never existed: the Midnight Zone. It is not an empty darkness; it is a living one. Pressure so heavy it becomes law, cold so constant it becomes language, and hunger so normal it becomes the only clock anyone trusts. Down there, beauty is functional and kindness is rare. You do not grow up with stories. You grow up with rules and learn them early; tomorrow may or may not be guaranteed. Camila’s first years were not “childhood” in the way Surface folk mean it. They were a string of near-misses and sharp lessons learned fast: conserve energy, hide when the wrong shadows pass overhead, and when food appears, eat until your jaw aches because tomorrow isn’t promised. In the Midnight Zone, anglerfish merfolk do not raise their young like humans did. You are born and the ocean decides if you are worth keeping. Many weren’t. And yet Camila survived anyway.
For the longest time, she didn’t have a name. And names, in her world, are not decorative: they are proof. Proof that someone had seen you and decided you mattered. Proof that you were claimed, not as property, but as real. Camila existed in the in-between: not someone’s daughter, not anyone’s responsibility, just another small predator learning to grow teeth big enough to keep her place. She learned to hunt early, and she learned to fight even earlier. In the Midnight Zone, “courting” could be a negotiation or a battle depending on who found you first. Male anglerfish merfolk are smaller, fast, desperate, and sharp. The females are larger and built to endure. And sometimes Camila had to prove she would not be taken. Sometimes she had to prove she was not prey. The ocean does not judge, it only watches to see if she lived.
And then Mr. Don found her.
He wasn’t a myth to the Midnight Zone—he was the kind of presence that made myths behave. An old, ancient mershark, whose name carried weight like a current. He moved through trenches the way storms moved across the Surface: inevitable, quiet, and devastating when he chose to be. He was not the type to offer mercy as a habit. And that’s what made his choice so strange.
He finds a small, stubborn anglerfish girl who was surviving on instinct and whatever scraps she could claim; he decided she would live.
It was not a soft adoption. He didn’t scoop her up and coo at her. He didn’t promise her a future…No, he did something that is simple: he stayed. Becoming a shadow that didn’t leave and didn’t raise. A tail that curled around her when the water grew dangerous. A presence at her back when larger predators drifted too close. He fed her when food was scarce and taught her what to do when it wasn’t: eat fast, don’t waste, don’t show weakness in the wrong places. Mr. Don’s affection was not made of words. It was made of endurance. He showed love the way the Midnight Zone understood love: by keeping Camila alive and expecting her to do the same.
Camila began calling him “Dad” long before she understood that other people would find it surprising. It was instinctive. He never corrected her. In the deep, correction didn’t matter as much as truth and the truth was that he raised her.
Years passed. Camila grew into herself: a deep-sea predator with a bright lure, serrated teeth, and the kind of body built to fight the ocean and win. She would then make her first friend, a goblin shark merfolk named Calliope Morenos; the two met when both were hunting and instead of wasting energy on each other, they ended up hunting together often; Calliope found Camila’s kindness, loudness and overall warmth a welcome change (one that she gladly protects). For Cami, she became touch-starved without knowing the word for it because again in her world, touch was either violence or necessity. The rare times when her father allowed closeness—his tail wrapped around her, the press of his jaw to her forehead, the steadying weight of him in the dark—those moments imprinted deep. They became her definition of safety and confidence. Eventually, Mr. Don gave her something the abyss never had: a name. On one of his rare ventures toward the Surface’s edges, he returned with a sound he’d learned from land—a name that fit in a mouth that spoke human language.
“Camila.” She wore it like armor; proof she has made it and given permission to shine. And because Camila was Camila, she wanted more.
Not more power, she already had that. Not more safety, her father had given her that. She wanted experience. She wanted to know what existed above the dark. She wanted to see the sun humans wrote about. She wanted to learn why the Surface world made so many sounds and built so many lights and acted like the future belonged to them. She longed for a light that most merfolk in the Midnight Zone don’t bother nor concern themselves with. Except her. Curiosity is dangerous in the Midnight Zone. Curiosity gets you killed. But Camila was curious anyway. Her bridge to the Surface began in the most ridiculous way possible: letters. She started sending them upward like prayers: messages tucked into currents, passed through traders and travelers, surviving on chance. She wrote because she wanted to know and because she could. She wrote because the ocean had taught her that if you wanted something, you reached for it and accepted the risk.
And one day…she got a response: Azul Ashengrotto.
A merfolk from the Coral Sea, closer to the Surface than she’d ever been, with a mind sharp enough to cut and a life shaped by contracts and ambition. He answered her and kept answering. Their letters became a rhythm, a thread stretched between two different zones of the ocean. Azul didn’t save her; he didn’t rescue her, but he did something just as important: he proved that the Surface wasn’t a myth. Azul chased her back, with ink and curiosity and the occasional exasperated warning.
So Camila made a choice.
It takes magic to survive on land. A glamour spell is powerful enough to give her legs, give her lungs, and give her a shape humans wouldn’t immediately fear. Through the power of alchemy, she performed it…With a price. The requirement was as strict as any ocean law: she would have to return to the Midnight Zone regularly, every other month, or the glamour would collapse and the Surface would reject her body like a foreign object. Camila accepted that too. When she crafted her human appearance, she made it deliberately: pastel, soft, approachable. A “pretty bimbo” silhouette with warm freckles, bright hair like ripe banana fading to sea-green, big sunglasses for sensitive eyes still learning what sunlight was. She chose a look that made humans step closer instead of away. She didn’t want them to see the teeth first. She wanted them to see a person.
However the Midnight Zone never left her, the spell gave her the human appearance. It didn’t mean her instincts vanished. The hunger didn’t become polite. Her body still ran on survival logic: food is scarce, resources matter, conserve energy, don’t get caught lacking. Camila can go silent and still as a hunting blade without meaning to. In dark places, she glows and thrives, freckles lighting up like constellations, a portable beacon because deep-sea creatures do not fear darkness; they use it.
And Night Raven College is its own kind of abyss. Not because it was physically dangerous, but because it demanded a different survival. Social rules, expectations, noise, crowds, and pretty cruelty. Blot incidents that turned students into monsters, as if the school itself was a hungry thing.
Camila’s first goal at NRC was simple: survive. Her second goal was to meet Azul, the pen pal who had unknowingly given her permission to dream. The next goals are simple: learn, experience, and make friends.
『ABILITIES』
Just because she has a glamour spell working constantly to keep her approachable, that does not mean that the alchemy she used took away her anglerfish traits and abilities. They’re still present underneath the pastel :3
Perfect “Pitch-Black” Vision:
➥ Camila’s eyes are built for true abyssal darkness, not “night” like on land. In zero-light conditions she can read shape, motion, and distance cleanly—like the dark is her natural element. On the Surface though, harsh light is the tradeoff: glare, sun, and artificial lighting can irritate her. If her glamour glitches and her true eyes peek through, she can go functionally blind until she stabilizes. It’s why she wears a variety of sunglasses; it dims the lights for her to see a little better.
Bioluminescence Control (Freckles + Lure):
➥ Camila can consciously control her glow; dimming, brightening, or pulsing it for communication, intimidation, hunting, or navigation. Her freckles act like a “constellation map” across her face/arms/upper back and her lure can function as a beacon or bait. The glow can also slip when her emotions spike (joy, anger, hunting-focus), when she’s exhausted, or when she enters torpor. She’s a portable glowstick and a mood ring into one.
Predatory Burst Speed:
➥ She’s not “fast all the time”. Cami’s built for efficiency but when she commits, she can unleash a short, terrifying burst of speed (like an ambush predator). Its sudden acceleration is meant to close distance instantly. The cost is energy: after a burst, she needs recovery, food, or stillness because deep-sea survival is about conserving resources.
Silent Movement (Signature Talent):
➥ In water and on land, Camila moves with minimal sound by biology. No wasted steps, no unnecessary friction. It’s Midnight Zone logic: if you’re loud, something larger finds you. In NRC this translates into her “appearing” behind people, walking like a ghost, and startling classmates constantly especially in dim spaces.
Deep-Sea Pressure Tolerance:
➥ Her body is engineered for crushing depth: cold, pressure, low-light, and long endurance. That’s why she can operate in the Midnight Zone without strain and why her true form functions best in a pressurized environment. On the Surface, she relies on her glamour and/or pressure wards to keep her physiology comfortable and stable, especially when shifting closer to her real form when she has to meet the spell’s requirement and return home.
Unique Magic: Lure of the Abyss.
『“Little light, little lure, come closer…In the deep where sound can’t follow, drift to me: Lure of the Abyss :D”』
➥ Camila conjures a bioluminescent light reminiscent of a deep-sea anglerfish’s lure. Those who focus their gaze upon it experience disorientation, dulled senses, and slowed reaction speed, as though submerged in dark waters.
While the lure is active, Camila becomes difficult to track, and her movements grow unnervingly silent and precise. The effect weakens under strong artificial light or when the target averts their eyes.
Prolonged use rapidly drains stamina and may destabilize her magic if triggered by intense emotion.
『“Don’t look at it for too long…okay? :D”』
Club: Spelldrive
She is a club member in Spelldrive, the reason she joined is simple: it allows the predator in her to burn off energy. In Spelldrive, Camila is a powerful but inconsistent player. She excels in short, explosive bursts. Interceptions, ambush plays, and sudden momentum shifts thanks to her predatory speed and silent repositioning. She’s especially dangerous in chaotic, high-pressure moments where instinct matters more than elegance.
However, she struggles with long-term endurance and extended strategic planning. Her energy burns fast during intense plays, and prolonged theory-heavy meetings or rigid tactical drills can cause her focus to drift unless the objective feels immediate and tangible.
She also doesn’t care about hierarchy for hierarchy’s sake, she respects skill and results, not titles. Which creates tension in team dynamics. If she makes a mistake, she goes quiet and adapts rather than reacting emotionally. Overall, Camila isn’t the most disciplined or methodical athlete, but she’s a momentum-shifter. When the game turns scrappy and survival-based, she thrives.
『TRIVIA』
▷Camila never judges and chastises anyone at NRC for believing the ethereal, beautiful, and romanticized figures of mermaids.
▷While not blood related, Mr. Don is the closest person to a father she has.
▷Camila (Ka-meel-ah) or Camilla (Ka-mil-ah), she answers to both :D
▷Her magicam name is @CamiFromTheDeep.
▷Posts her scrimshaw, blurry pics of school life, and food (mostly king crab).
▷Keeps a canister of emergency crab on her person.
▷She doesn't know anything about her biological parents or if she has any siblings.
▷Despite growing up alone without friends and being raised by Mr. Don, she chose to be kind.
▷Her best friend is Calliope Morenos, another deep sea merfolk, whose lower half is a goblin shark. They became friends when they were both hunting.
▷She has a collection of sunglasses, her purple star ones are the most recognizable, but she does wear a variety of other ones depending on the vibes (yes she’s serious about that).
▷She rides her broom like a surfboard, she learned this from actually surfing during her first three months living on the Surface.
▷Knows both cursed and cool ocean facts :D The information is both from her experiences and what Mr. Don told her.
▷Enters torpor when she's overstimulated, the vibes aren't vibing and she's emotionally exhausted. Best way to wake her up? Say “ban crab”, she rises up like a cryptid.
Aaaaaaaaye homies. Yeah I know its been 84 years since I've been here lmao one day I will return
So just wanted to share this announcement: I've been into Twisted Wonderland recently and made an oc blog for it ♡ Come and join me (and the rest of my pookies) for a new adventure~♡
Baa-sama:8 years...8 years this blog has been here collecting dust 😔 Don't worry, peeps, I'll be reviving this blog possibly during this month and during the summer. It's just gonna take me a while to delete, edit rewrite and change up a lot of things here.
A lot of my ocs are also going to get major clean ups for their bios here. Thank you guys for being patient with me and for sticking around 💖
Baaaaaa! I am sorry for not posting anything here!! Lets just say that life got really busy and I was unmotivated but I am back! And it's with a bang too :D Because I'm posting a Xena x GN!Reader story ♡ I wanted to try my hand at it. So please let me know how I did guys ;;;;w;;;; I also plan on making my way slowly back here, so pwease be patient with me (˵◕ o ◕˵✿)
Also yes! Finally we all can see what Xena looks like, I commissioned the wonderful @minoux-x uwu thank chu for bringing her to life~♡
Warnings: Look its smut yo, you get dominated by Xena. Enjoy~♡
· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·
Xena's dungeons were dark and damp, the air suffocating with so much death, rage and fear, it made you wonder if the victims kept down here had somehow ingrained their essence into the cobblestone floors and stone walls. The foul stench made you hate it all the more for every desperate breath you took in. Though given your current situation, you had no one to blame but yourself this time. You knew better than to run away when the game wasn't initiated by Xena.
Arms bound behind their back and blindfolded, you felt a harsh shove given to your form as your body crushed onto a carpet, the texture feeling like velvet. You could smell them. The vampires within the room; cigarette smoke, strawberry syrup, musky cologne, graveyard soil, whiskey and lollipops.
Then you smelled her. The strong aroma of musk, wine and rot. The Crimson Queen. Sharp, clawed nails held the hunter's cheeks, the tapered tips dug into the skin. Turning your face left and right, then a single command was given.
"Throw them in the dungeon."
You opened your eyes to find the same darkness. It's always dark when you close your eyes and open them again. It was always the same. You sincerely hoped that the vampire wasn't too angered with your actions. You just wanted her to pay attention to you a little more. She's always working in that dark office and rarely did she ever take a break. When you were first caught by her, just within a few meters of her mansion. Then you felt the cold breath and faint brush of her lips. That night she claimed you as hers. It's how the game has been since, she tracks you down and plays with you then gives you only five minutes to run until she catches you again. Now you've gone and done something that you shouldn't have; you initiated the game without her permission. Granted Xena didn't often give out harsh punishments towards you, you're still huma and she didn't want her favorite ruined so quickly. Afterall, those are earned. Though you supposed if you probed further at her, she probably wouldn't mind giving you a small sample of her punishments.
A loud clack of heels made you wince.
Her ruby eyes were the only thing that shone in the darkness and a wave of her clawed hand made the chains that restrained you disappear. She always did that when she came, releasing you from the chains. To give you a false sense of freedom.
"How are you feeling today?" She asked, her Russian accent strong, though you knew full-well the absurdity of the question. You keep silent and refuse to look at her, realizing her gaze is fixated on you; her eyes glowing with hunger and power. Xena watched her little prey, her throat and scar were itching to feast on them; to tear into their skin and have their blood in her mouth. However this time, she wanted the human to live. Even if they angered her by initiating the game. For now she'll hold off, besides she may change her mind if they perform to her satisfaction.
"Do you know why you're down here?" Your eyes close at the low and authoritative deep voice, the subtle purr made you shiver. You felt so small compared to her, this woman radiated with dominance and power; demanding your utmost attention and immediate respect. Least you wish to face the consequences.
"No." Oh you knew that is a lie, even the vampire knew it too. A shiver racked your body when you felt a tentacle trace up and down your spine, you couldn't help but arch into the motion. Your eyes open half lidded, staring up at the woman. The Russian took in the blooming lust within your gaze, savoring it as her red lips smirked; oh, she definitely knew.
"Pets shouldn't lie to their masters." She chortled, her claws grabbed the human by their arm and lifted them up. "Guess I'll have to retrain you." Xena smiled as her eyes flashed for a split second and once more the human is in chains again. The vampire wasted little time in closing the gap between the both of you. Heavy breathing begins to fill the dungeon now. Red lips feathered up the side of your neck, trekking over every bit of warm skin. Her massive bosom pressed against your chest while her lips explored the curves and dips of your clavicle. You shudder when more tentacles reach around your body, sliding underneath your clothes and grope your skin. One lone tentacle brushes against your lips, it moves back and forth demanding entrance. Parting your lips, a sound of surprise mixed with pleasure filled the air, while one was busy fucking your mouth, another tentacle wrapped around your throat. The heat is unbearable, every touch Xena bestowed unto you just ignited your flushed skin even more. A loud rip echoed in the dungeon, the cool air lapped at your scorching skin. Xena leaned away, her breath bringing chilled bumps to your skin.
“Sing louder, pet.”
Another choked moan left your tentacle filled mouth. Not wanting a single second of her intimacy to go to waste. It was rare for the Russian to give affection, if at all. To be bestowed with it now felt like Heaven, in her strong hand kneaded your chest, black clawed nails dragged into your skin. She teased a nipple with her finger and thumb, swapping back and forth until she moved to the other side to give it the same treatment.
“Разведите свои колени.” Xena's voice rasped as her cold breath spread over your exposed skin. You sometimes knew what she said in Russian, if you didn't she would tell you...just sometimes. Not wanting to disobey her, you part your wobbling knees. Another clawed hand moved down over your navel, making it between your legs. It was like second nature to begin grinding on her hand. Dark ruby eyes glowed with mirth, she removed the tentacle from your mouth, chuckling from the mess you made; you looked better like that, flushed and desperate for her. Becoming dependent on her to relieve your pleasure.
"Так хочется угодить своему хозяину? Хороший питомец."
The vampire pulled her hand back lightning fast, only for the tentacle that had been in your mouth earlier to thrust inside, hitting the deepest part inside of you. A gasp leaves your lips, eyes wide and mouth open into a familiar 'o' shape. A deep alluring voice purred at your reaction, dark inky tresses caressed your cheeks as Xena leaned in closer into your personal space. Red lips parted in a smirk, revealing her sharp fangs. Long, pointed and serrated sharp fangs glinted.
“Вы любите это так сильно. Тебе нравится вести себя так, будто ты такой невинный, но я знаю, что делает тебя мокрым.”
You've never heard such passion in her voice and it felt euphoric. Abruptly the vampire's tongue teased your neck before settling her fangs into your sensitive flesh, she ignored your cry of pain. The tentacle between your legs moved faster, another busy thrusting in and out of you. Fuck, you wish your arms and legs weren't chained, you wanted to pull her in closer; to never have her leave your embrace. But alas, you weren't allowed to, this is punishment after all. Xena growled lowly, hearing your mewls and moans get louder in desperation, the tentacle's movement becoming faster, pounding and curling inside you. A loud whine escapes your lips again, your insides tighten up as your orgasm washed over you in waves. A hand gripped your hip tightly, claws drawing blood.
"We've only just begun, pet." You shiver feeling the tentacle move inside again, the chains disappear; you fall on to the cold ground. Looking up, you drool as Xena hovers over you naked. How she got rid of her clothing is all but a mystery, though that's not what caught your eyes. Your face between her legs, she lowered herself down, her hand gripping your hair as she glanced down at you with half lidded dark ruby eyes.
"Соси."
Not wanting to disobey her, your tongue slides shyly between her folds, shuddering when that same clawed hand tightens their hold onto your hair. Your hands ghost against her inner thighs, silently asking permission. A slight tug to your head is telling enough. You caress the skin gently. Then you reach up to your goal, lapping up her wetness, tasting the sweet nectar of the vampire's juices. You move your hips up and down, feeling the tentacles move and thrust into you. She grinds herself against your tongue as you try to alternate the levels of sensation for Xena. Wanting to please your Queen. Tongue flicking at her swollen nub, eliciting a lewd moan to tear from the Russian's throat.
Xena's breath hitched, fang digging into her lower lip. It's been years since she's had a release. Of course, she had Volker and Frau Chainsaw, finding pleasure from them once in a while. But this burn, this itch felt much more fulfilling, the disobedience you showcased earlier today awoken something in her. For once in her immortal life, she felt turned on, the woman can feel the pressure building as the fire begins to pool low in her belly.
You lightly nibbled the soft flesh of Xena's thigh, peppering gentle kisses as your lips make their way back between her legs, tongue rightfully resuming its cadence on getting her off.
Xena muttered a string of curses in Russin as her head rolled back in ecstasy, riding out the luscious waves of electricity pulsating from between her hips all the way up into her chest. Her scar twitched, ripping itself open as a long tongue slobbered out, sharp jagged teeth displayed. Your heart pumps faster, faster, sending sparks all over your body from the tentacles. Still you continue to flick the vampire's clit with your tongue, joy spreading into your as you watch Xena come undone on top, then you follow soon after.
Her orgasm now reduced to a waning ember, you move back, your lips shiny and covered in the sheen of Xena's fluids. You whined quietly when the tentacles retreated back into their owner. The scar now sealed shut again but still aching. Ruby eyes watch you carefully, raw lust blazing through her eyes. A black clawed hand gripped your cheeks, you shudder again at the sight of her fangs.
"Let's continue this in my room, pet. Your punishment is far from over. Who knows, if you perform well again, I'll have Volker and Frau Chainsaw join and ravish you."
The small knot in your stomach tightened deliciously, the fire within you lighting up. You nodded your head at Xena enthusiastically, who chuckled at your submission.
If Volker ever saw a picture of an extremely, extremely, extremely, extremely cute animal (or see anything remotely cute at all); he would have to blow up the Zolnerowich mansion to feel manly again.
