Love me Cancerously [Zukozu only]

[Formaldehyde]

The sky was grey and dismal. Whether or not Fenris had taken the effort to rise and survey the lands that morning remained a secret for only the gods to share, for his rays had not penetrated the thick cloud cover and his presence had gone not unnoticed but unseen altogether by the inhabitants of the lands below. Breaking the monochrome tinge of the worn down grass and slouching trees moved what would have normally been the most pristine creature Mother Nature had to offer. It was the oddly-hued form of a wolf that trekked across the plains.

Dragging his paws in what was practically a crawl, his melancholy state of affairs had not improved, and neither had the weather. Hyde had not waited long before venturing out from the protective shelter of the castle. He had spent over a week there, confined within the stone tomb, before finally breaking the tethers that held him there to continue his aimless journey across the countryside. He had not truly wanted to die, not there, though he had often convinced himself that such was the case during his prolonged stay. It had been his sanctuary away from the rest of the world where he had waited for his near-fatal wound to heal over, at least enough to walk again. The formidable fortress, though helpful in shielding him from the cascading torrents of rain, had been utterly unavailing in nursing his tattered heart; A scar he wore not with pride, but instead with self-loathing and hatred for the wench that had birthed such action, for no matter the amount of guilt that wracked his soul, love was not a solitary game, and all players shared some part in the blame.

Each step he took was labored. Though physically he had healed miraculously, it took every ounce of willpower he had to push himself forward. The land he was destined for, he had only heard of through stories. It was situated near the decaying realm of the Balkan lands, and its wolves were known for their treachery and poisoned minds. It was a wonder that he hadn't wound up there himself, for his dual-mind, tainted as it was, had been the mechanism to launch the thousand ships that bore the weight of all his burden. He knew in his mind what sick goals he had previously set, though just what lurked in waiting within the land of Sarnes he could hardly imagine.

The rejuvenating air brought on by fresh rain had been quick to turn stale. The thick, moldy atmosphere damn near choked him, and despite it growing all the more dense the further he pursued his invisible yellow-brick road, he only pushed himself all the harder, sucking in deep breaths of the rank, suffocating air in hopes of growing better accustomed to the sensation. Soon, other scents mingled with the musty stench; evidence of others like him was all around. He was stalking through the land of the damned, the foul poison within their wretched souls stung his nostrils, and yet, it smelled familiar. The intoxicating must of his coat that the golden fae had first been taken by, it was most certainly one in the same with this noxious nectar. The very thought of being surrounded by others like him sent a shudder down his crooked spine, even as The Sikla within him slept.

Having grown somewhat used to the toxicity, he focused more intently upon his surroundings. The ground had been reduced to a soft, muddy substance and he had to watch his steps to avoid falling victim to sinkholes. The terra was not one where many would desire to live, he supposed, for even his standards rose above the filth of the swamp. Shaking the mud from his paw without reason, he halted and took a moment to survey the lay of the land. The last thing he needed was an ambush, and he would rather meet peaceably with any who might find him than risk his life a third time over something as stupid as an intrusion.

((Sorry this sucks. I haven't written a post in over a month :X It's about time I get back in gear. I am excited for this thread, though >:D))

[Zukozu]

Your mouth is like funeral
where words go to die
Your mouth is like funeral
where kisses go to die
I'm not the girl that stopped and stared
I'm not the girl that lied
Your mouth is like funeral
where kisses go to die

Winter was comfortable enough as the marshy terrain of Sarnes merely remained luke-warm and muggy with its thick and heavy air, yet in the knowledge of a looming summer the air began to grow unbearably close and heated; something that not even a roll in the boggy swamp waters could cure. Thankfully, though not like it helped a great deal, the savage fiery God Fenris had thrown clouds around himself and kept his presence hidden behind a wall of grey – little was he aware that it would only make matters worse as no heat that he had previously given to the land was able to escape, and he was to boil his poor little varg spawn alive. So much for a God of good will.
Grumbling seriously censorious words beneath her breathe, a less than exuberated and well kempt bitch stalked the outskirts of her pack’s terrain, baring her teeth at no particular foe and bristling her hackles every time her flailing tail came into her fiery sights. Zukozu, the ebony faemme was known as round these parts, had been rather vacant from her usual terrorizing of fellow varg and general mischief. Times were moving on and she was in need of new plans and plots to mingle with – her previous endeavour hadn’t fed her addiction with the excitement and thrills that she seeked, and now she was growing restless and impatient for something new. And what ever happened in Sarnes? Nothing.

Fair enough Zukozu had had her eyes set on the recent Awiergan, yet his love affair with the Drappa Shunké caused their possible ‘fling’ to be a little bit more tedious than she had originally anticipated. At the present moment things were to be taken with caution and time – and patience was not one of Zukozu’s greatest attributes. Something needed to be done, or she needed to do something to take her mind off such events…and a sudden scent that crept its way across the marshy bog land caught her immediate attention.
A male the scent told, full of testosterone despite the apparent health not being in the best condition. This didn’t matter one second to the ebony pelted wench and her course suddenly took a turn. Long slender legs and nimble yet wide paws helped her elegantly clear the otherwise sinking terrain. She knew the land well and it helped her know which places to tred and which to avoid, causing her to leap and bound almost as if showing off the peak of her health and spirit. Having shed her entire winter pelt Zukozu’s sleek and feathery pelt was not quite as prim as it had once been seen to be, in fact now it was rather thin and scruffy. Despite this, her mere character and attitude caused mann to drool at their paws…or at least this is how she believed things to be.

Ahead there stood a lone male, his legs long and his body lanky; though the most peculiar thing to catch her attention was indeed his odd colouration. Black and green? A mann’s a mann, let’s not be fussy now ZuZu, she thought silently to herself before slowing the pace and putting on her most famous and flirtatious saunter. Placing one paw before the other and pressing her broad ears against her scalp, the bitch made her approach whilst flicking her tail high and fluttering her fiery lantern orbs. “And who do we have trespassing across the Sarnes lands tonight?” she growled on husky tones, rosy pink tongue poking out to lick her nose before sharply being snapped up behind her ivory razors.

this is what you want this is what you get

[Formaldehyde]

If I take this leap,
will I be broken?
I'm dying to know...

Entering his line of sight came the lithe and agile form of a female. Her strong, musky scent betrayed her sex and desire all at once, and though she too bore the telltale badge of madness, the sweet perfume that danced around her figure somehow made him breathe easy. The noir pelt that was delicately draped over her petite frame had a preternatural sheen to it; she was surprisingly well kept for living in such a hell hole. Needless to say, this level of pride she apparently took in herself and her appearance made her all the more appealing. Little did he know that this bitch with the blazing hellfire eyes would be the mechanism to put into action his overwhelming hunger for revenge, and the means of shattering his already devastated heart. He would bring these things upon himself; a remedy in the form of sweet, slow-acting poison.

Thinking only of his own greedy desires, he did not take the time to consider the repercussions of pursuing such a vixen. Steely, blue eyes lit up instantly as they fell upon their fiery counterparts. The wench carried herself with a haughty attitude and high expectations for her own wants and dark needs. Long, spindly legs held her toned body far from the ground as though aiming to preserve the perfect nature of her being. A true wraith with an angel's body, this gorgeous man-killer would, with any luck, prove to be his sexual salvation as well as his ultimate downfall.

Sauntering up to the confident bitch, Hyde himself regained much of his own esteem. It was a miracle what a pretty lady could do to an otherwise craven individual. Not to say that he was afraid of the opposite sex; he had had his share of triumphs over their kind. He had simply found himself in a bit of a rut ever since he had stumbled upon his golden beauty; the short-fused Fae who refused to put out and acknowledge his shocking display of strength and will that it took to loyally remain by her side. Ironically, he was breaking that unspoken vow, or would be soon, to associate with a much darker crowd. Perhaps he was simply after a woman with more in common with his twisted tendencies, or maybe he just wanted a change from the light he had been subjected to, in exchange for a romp in the shadows. Either way, this dark seductress seemed to be calling his name with her gaze, her serpentine smile hinting at mischief far from innocence.

Disregarding his rag-tag appearance and imagining himself instead as a princely suitor, he was sure that his own toxic charm would work wonders in veiling the eyes of this mistress to the flaws of his form. The two of them were but actors, for they both sought to gain affections by disguising their imperfections. Masters of their art, the similarities were staggering, if not disgusting. "Just a weary and able traveler. Harm is the last thing I would wish upon you, sweetness. You have nothing to worry about..." His words seemed to drip from his maw, deliberate and calculated, he moved ever closer to her in a sort of fluid stagger. His movements were drunken yet precise; he moved with purpose and did little to hide his rising lust. "But tell me..." he cooed, icy eyes roving over her delectable bodice, devouring every detail. His advances had placed him directly before the bitch now, he was at such a proximity that might make other females a touch uncomfortable, especially those who did not share his warped fantasies. Brushing his muzzle against the Fae's throat, his face found itself pressed against hers, his parted maw situated in front of her ear. "How is it that such an image of perfection found itself in such an unflattering environment? Surely this is not the place you call home." His raspy tones were thick with lust and echoed the desire in the female's voice as his heated breath teased and tickled her eager aud.

This is it, I'm falling

[Zukozu]

The tell tale signs that the brute was taking in her seductive charm was unmistakable. His whole demeanour altered, causing his chest to puff out and his head and tail to grow erect, the brute’s icy orbs held an instant glimmer of lust and need which only fuelled the ebony wench’s desire to play. Her muzzle distorted into a lengthy grin which reached her fiery eyes, she had at last found a new toy to play with. At least this one played along, not like some of the other males she had tried to charm who would merely scoff at her obvious needs for completion.
The stranger’s initial words caused her to giggle lightly, her forepaw rising for a moment before she placed it at an angle in front of the other. Lowering and tilting her muzzle to the side she eyed him up from the side. “Oh trust me humble wanderer, it would be very unlikely that you could harm me in any way. I laugh at the object of pain,” she growled on husky tones, her lids fluttering to emphasise her more seductive rather than disturbing words.

Zukozu was not a good varg to mess with, and in particular to be played with. Her intentions were always a little more twisted than they may initially seem. This new toy may have entered her life only for what could end up to be a fine evening, but once she’d had a taste, he would never be rid of her. It may be another year or two, or even just a week, but Zukozu would not let up. After this encounter, he was officially hers, and he would carry the memory of her forever.

A cold chuckle shook her chest at the mere thought of adding a new name to her growing list of pleasures. Allowing him to swagger his way towards her, swiftly closing the space between them, she giggled once more when he brushed his muzzle into her neck fur and worked his way up to her ear. Flicking it naturally as he breathed into it, she listened to his words and rolled her head to the side, feigning modesty. “Oh please,” she breathed, taking a small step backwards so that she could let her fiery pits meet squarely with the stranger’s cool pools. “You know as well as I do that I belong here, my mind is just as filthy as the land in which we stand. As is yours,” she leaned her muzzle forward and gave him a slow, almost tender, lick across his muzzle.
Pulling herself back before he had a chance to reciprocate, Zukozu turned her elegant form round and began to pad in the direction of Sarnes, aiming for the tree line that wasn’t too far off from where she found him. Looking back over her shoulder she winked and growled lightly. “Come with me if you want to play,” she called, her feathery tail swishing back and forth in a teasing fashion.

[Formaldehyde]

I don't love you, I'm just passing the time

Evidently his charms had succeeded in wooing the fair mistress, for instead of turning away in disgust, she couldn't help but be strung along. Choosing to to play the part of a love-struck adolescent, she was an expert at faking modesty. Bubbly laughter spilled forth from her upturned maw, giving her all the appearance of giddyness. He was indeed very pleased with her reaction; for too long he had been denied pleasures of the flesh. The object of his affection had strange, unsatisfying ways of showing her feelings for him, never letting him get close to her, causing him to go off in pursuit of something more favorable. She had chased him off, left him for dead, and what had it all been for? There had been no grand victory worth sacrificing for; he had given up everything without gaining a thing in return. She had led him to this extreme, forced him between a rock and a hard place; he could either waste his life mourning over the one that got away, or he could attain the desired sensation by alternative means. His choice had been an easy one to make, for here he was, trudging through miserable swamplands ready to whisk Sarnes' princess off her feet. Something within him that had been smothered by the golden fae had been reawakened with this new object. Finally, he was back to his old ways, and boy did it feel good.

This female's voice was like an invisible line; like an unsuspecting lera he had been snagged by her trap, though the only difference was he had allowed himself to be caught. Had he the same ambition and loyalty he once felt towards the golden fae, he would have been able to resist his animalistic urges by simply considering the prospect of a happy life soon to be built elsewhere. As it was, he had not reason to resist, every bone in his body was telling him to move forward. "A girl after my own heart," he growled in reply, his voice a rich rumble that complimented the bitch's husky tones. Suddenly she moved away from him, the warmth of her body replaced by the slightly cooler surrounding air. Already he hungered for the feel of her flesh, his mind spiraled at the speed of light at the sensations coursing through him and the desire that was driving him crazy. He was love-drunk of her scent and longed to be near her again.

Caught by the contrast of her orange optics against the darkness of her pelt, he stared at them intently, the coolness of his own, icy orbs seemed to dual against their burning counterparts. A gentle, tantalizing lick across his muzzle sent his nerve endings into a rage. "Oh that I don't doubt for a moment, sweetness. Was it the blackness of the swamp that turned your pelt, or was it you that brought the shade to these lands?" His face was split into a devious smirk, pointed fangs jutting out from beneath his upturned lips. "There might be darkness to be added yet, by the time this night is through. A little more poison for these pools." He was sure that the deeds committed would serve to further pollute the grunge in which she lived, as well as his own smothered conscious.

As she moved away, her fiery lanterns were like blazing beacons, beckoning him forth to join her in the shadows. Eagerly he padded after her, a willing playmate ready to partake in her devilish games. "I do so enjoy the chance to play," he almost hissed as he came up beside her, snapping at her tail as he did so. Rubbing up against her side, his voice was a growl rising from the pits of his stomach. "Mmm, so what shall we play tonight, then? A little game of cat and mouse? Or perhaps you'd rather dance with the devil." He was beside her now, pressing against the side of her frame, his muzzle resting against her temple as his words flowed into her ear.

[Zukozu]

The brute followed her - as she knew fine well he would - and it caused her gait to turn into a giddy trot, hind legs kicking up and allowing her flailing tail to miss the mann’s snapping jaws by a mere inch. The heat of his body against hers and the sensation of their fur mingling together caused her skin to tingle and her frustration to heighten. A gasp of desperation almost surfaced, yet she managed to swallow it down to prevent showing any hint of need to the brute who would only quit the little game and go straight into the nitty gritty; which is not what she needed…yet…

The oddly hued mann; she still had not learnt his name; uttered words into her ear once more and it caused her grin to grow even broader than before. He was certainly working his magic with her, and he was incredibly smooth on the pillow talk. Zukozu’s lids fluttered, making her fiery pools look like striking orange butterflies in flight. “The lands were already filthy, but before I arrived you could have considered them liveable,” she responded sharply, her words now seeming to drip with malice as she considered how twisted he made her feel, how dirty he was making the situation for them.
Indeed, their acts would be that of sheer lust and spontaneous excitement, not of love or relationship. It would be a night of passion and allowing the pair to just let their guard down and take a break from reality. Zukozu craved the rush, needed the weight of a mann, it had seemed too long ago that she was taken care of; so to speak.

Their flirting bodies, one of complete ebony and the other of cyanide and midnight, grew ever closer to the tree line ahead. Zukozu’s auds perked suddenly and she gave him a sidelong glance as he began to question her on the game that was about to begin. Raising a single brow she chuckled coldly, her mind working now like clockwork as the cogs began to churn and turn. “Dancing with the devil eh? Now that sounds like a fun risk I’d like to take,” she growled smoothly, husky tones now tickled his ear.
Entering the forest and eventually hardened earth, Zukozu made her way to a secluded glade where she knew they would not be disturbed and where, if he was up to the challenge, he could show her his moves, and she could show him hers.

[Formaldehyde]

As the fae quickened her pace, he allowed her to get away from him, slowing his own trot to more of a walk as he smiled knowingly behind her. The smoothness with which she moved was appealing both to his greedy eyes and twisted imagination. The way her tail flitted through the air behind her lithe bodice with the streamlined motion of a fish in a lake sent the gears in his mind churning, for certainly her spontaneous, flirtatious maneuvers would do well to compliment his own, calculated tricks when the time was right.

It was not yet time for such rough passion, after all, jumping ahead of the game would only mean bypassing all the fun they could have in the meantime. Suppressing his urges, his bit his tongue and kept his libido in check, as he was sure the frustrated fae before him was having to do as well. "Livable?" he questioned in mock disbelief. "Why m'dear, if I'm not mistaken, it may in fact be your dark aura that has made an otherwise drab atmosphere seem rather, alluring." His voice was a low, sultry growl and he offered a dry chuckle under his breath as he brushed against her fleeting frame once more. The tension hung in the air, taunting the two thirsting beasts, willing them to, for the moment, ignore their animalistic urges and exercise some restraint, for the time being, at least. Until the time came for such mischief, they would find some other pleasure, a game, to satisfy their need for a mere taste.

Stopping a few yards from the prancing vixen, she stopped in an open clearing, the overhanging trees leering down, sheltering them from any prying eyes on the outside that might be watching. As she stood, waiting expectantly, his already towering ego blazed up once more. With a flick of his crooked banner he began his trot, prancing proudly up to the fae's side, the wiry fur of his pelt creating friction from the small space of thin air that separated their two, eager bodies. As he passed before her, his tail glided under her chin, caressing her face and tilting her head up to meet his glowing, ardent gaze. "Oh, sweetness," he sang, almost sadly. "Placing yourself in such peril will one day be your end." His playful threat bordered on the brink of serious danger. Circling around behind her, maintaining his haughty prance though he was out of sight, his light footfalls did not betray his location. "Will the fun you've had outweigh the risk?" he cooed. As he neared her head once more, his dark lips peeled back as he wrapped his jaws around the fae's muzzle, his teeth snapping shut on her delicate maw, though not hard enough to hurt her. He longed to feel her writhing beneath him, calling for mercy if she dared as he exercised his dominance. Azure pools glared fixedly into her pits of fire, his face that had been scrunched up in a snarl had since begun to soften, a wide smile growing across his lips as his jaws slowly let up against the soft chuckle growing in his throat. "Oh, but you needn't worry tonight. There will be more play than pain to be had, and besides..." his voice dropped as he gave the bitch a long, considerate lick across the whole of her cheek. "I would hate to ruin that pretty face of yours."

[Zukozu]

Hour after hour
of sweet pleasure
After this I guarantee
you'll never wanna leave

The fae slowed herself to a halt and observed as the mann circled her, his scrutinizing eyes taking in every flawless detail of her poisoned body from her broad auds to her delicate toes. Zukozu knew all too well that she was a wonderfully built creation that was, when put to the test, a force to be reckoned with. The colourful brute had made it obvious from the start that he was asserting domination, and for the moment she would humour him and play along the role of a pathetic damsel in distress – yet if things turned nasty she would put him in his rightful place; these were of course her lands over his.
Jaws that could crush bone suddenly locked onto her slender muzzle, causing her mind to flicker back to reality and a light growl to tickle her throat. She was caught off guard by her wondering thoughts and had only managed to hold herself back from retaliating on the smooth talking stranger. Instead, his piercing cold gaze suddenly locked onto her ember pits and her growl of slight threat turned into something smoother and longer; anticipation maybe? Ebony hackles tingled and rose along with her feathery tassel as her body readied itself, preparing for the onslaught of pleasure and completion, begging her to give up the act and just let herself go.
Zukozu of course could never let things go so smoothly, to just let herself be without a little bit of torture first. On being released from his gentle grasp she shifted her footing until she had rotated further round, their muzzles touching now as she never once let her fiery gaze falter. His tongue escaped from those tempting jaws and lavishly ran across her cheek, leaving behind it a warm and erratic sensation, causing her heart to skip and her body to quiver.
Gathering herself together and trying as hard as she could not to sound breathless, Zukozu chuckled huskily, leaning toward him and allowing her muzzle to slide alongside his, her own now tickling his aud with her heavy breathing. “I would rather meet my end having known that I’d stirred up a little hell beforehand than simply living out the average life of a pathetic varg,” she growled deeply, tones still coated in husk. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sample some of these dance moves you spoke of,” she continued, pulling herself away and nimbly prancing backwards on her slight toes, feathery banner swaying from side to side with each step and keeping up a rhythm. Halting herself short, she quirked her head to the side and rose a brow questioningly, eyes alight now with lust and flickering with sheer passion. “You did say you were the devil tonight, did you not?”

Shut your eyes and think about
what I'm about to do
Sit back relax I'll take my time
this lovin's all for you

[Formaldehyde]

I need your touch, you're like a siren
Temptation pulls me closer I can't resist

The Fae's body language became considerably more stressed as his jaws snapped shut on her muzzle. For a moment he wondered if she might lash out at him, put him in his place in these lands that were not his own, though as he had hoped (and somehow expected) she made no move to correct his rash behavior. She was saving herself, he could tell, and any wrong move on her part might serve to deny her the release that she so craved, that she needed. He let out a small chuckle at her weakness, though the jeer was not meant for her in particular, but for all of their kind that had been reduced to this primeval state. Slaves to their yearning, willing to do anything to satisfy that burning hunger. It was the state in which he thrived, for although he was not quite a master of his desire, he was particularly skilled in leaving such attachments behind once he had derived his gratification from them.

A small growl flickered forth from the ebon fae's throat. Her vocalizations were pleasing to him, husky yet still feminine. When she spoke her tones were rich, slathered in the lust that she couldn't conceal from his eager ears. He longed to have her at his mercy, to fulfill every deep desire that she had in mind, and slake the lust that he had been unable to abate elsewhere. She was melting at his touch, the closeness and warmth of his broken body sending shivers of anticipation through her form, much as the warmth of her frame was awakening dark desires within him. As she took a step closer to him, she spoke once more in her raspy tones, her words tickling his sensitive auds and causing his fur to prick up. Doing his best to suppress a shudder, he managed to turn it into a deep chuckle, reflecting the satisfaction that her cynical words gave him. "Oh, sweetness," he managed, adopting once more the sugar-coated nickname he had cursed her with. "Damnation will surely be yours on this night, as will it be mine." The gravity of this phrase, of the vile act he was committing to pain another, echoed briefly in his mind, though the small pangs of guilt that he felt were not enough to abolish his lust, nor did they deter him from advancing. As soon as she had pulled away, he was attracted to her again, like a magnectic force was driving him closer. Unable to keep away, he chased after her with light steps as though he was walking on air.

So tell me that you want it
So many things I need to know
You can't hide your secrets
Nothing's sacred when we're here all alone

Wasting no time, he sidled up beside her, letting his body rub roughly against her side. "That I did, darlin', and you're my fallen angel." With one swift motion he was on top of her. He could feel her tense beneath the weight of his rigid body; The sensation brought a crooked smile to his face. With there bodies intertwined like some terrible, writhing mistake, they satisfied eachother's lust, all of his effort being made to satisfy that one goal: to make him forget about the one he'd left behind.

------
With the deed long since done, the slithering rat rose groggily to his feet, the warmth of the body next to him replaced with the chilly early-morning air. Casting his steel gaze down remorsefully at the still slumbering ebon Varg, he felt a sort of sympathy for both their positions. Carrying the title of scum of the earth was not what he had wanted as a cub, this corruption was never something he had strived for. The onyx fae was peaceful in her sleep, her restful expression almost void of the malice that shone so brightly when she was awake. He couldn't hate her, for the idea had been his own; She had simply been the mechanism to put his thoughts into action. He knew that she would not mourn his absence, for the two were too much alike and he would not mourn hers. For a moment he contemplated giving her once last kiss on the muzzle, though he thought better of it, knowing that the emotions that were spiraling through him were not meant for this fae. Leaving nothing in way of words, he padded gingerly away from the sleeping fae, as though he feared the world learning of his committed sin and judging him before the gods. The rotten decision he had made had done little to heal his heart, if anything he felt worse than when he had crawled into the cesspool of Sarnes.

He passed over the border with muddied paws and a soiled conscience; the memories of salvation gone awry still seared into his mind.