The dark of the space didn't matter much any more. His monitor offered a soft blue glow, interrupted by the red of his eyes. They flickered briefly when Alastor spoke- Things must have been trying for him if he didn't have time for banter that was always their thing- but he recovered quickly enough.
He breathed a sigh as his fingers flew to his jacket, and with a shrug he slid it down. After whipping it aside, he stepped forward, his cables unfurling from his back. A current of power ran through them, giving them a gentle glow, a contrast to his shadow tendrils. Several red eyes joined his monitor above that accursed left that enjoyed digging into the minds of the masses, yet none of them saw fit to twist and change... no. Their gaze was one of an unmasked hunger.
"Then start ṙ͖ŭ̹ͦnn̢̓̑inͫg̵ͭ.̴̈́͆.̼͑ͪ.͔́̚" Red pixels trailed from his mouth as the cables shot out to seek purchase. Limited space? Didn't matter... make this interesting, little Doe...
Truly, sincerely, watching Vox take off his jacket made his hideous, beastly body THRUM with an excitement that Alastor never felt otherwise. His mind spun, an elk bugle emerging from him unwittingly.
Run.
Something sang in Alastor's heart, hearing that Vox not only knew the game - but understood it. His antlers grew out even more, branched and frenetic in a threat display. His tendrils emerged and swiped at the cables, granting him the chance to leap back and away from his suitor, even as every fiber of his being wanted Vox to catch him and wrestle him down.
On a normal day, he liked this. But tonight there was nothing short of a gut-deep joy sparking in his brain with the sensation of each cable meeting shadow. How many did Alastor have? Could he make more than him?
Only one way to find out. With a low and husky laugh, Vox rushed forward in a literal flash, an arc of lightning that sprung high. When he reformed, his body 'shed' the power he'd gathered, lances of electricity to rain down. But with a twist of his wrist and the thrilled widening of his extra eyes, he sent it all dancing in a pattern. Funnel... funnel the Doe...
Meanwhile, his cords began to regroup. He just needed to create an opening to get those pretty legs.
The flashing bolts of blue were serious, threat, a thrill - Alastor practically danced with each lunge out of the way, lacking his usual cocky poise but still cackling from an enjoyment and excitement that made his body shake like it was the dead of winter.
More... more!!
Alastor wanted to bite him. Wanted to throw Vox to the ground and dig his claws through those guts and cables, wanted to get fried with electricity, wanted Vox to pin him and rearrange his guts--
Vox would find Alastor putting up less resistance than usual once a cable finally snagged at the deer's ankle. If he wanted, he could just as easily melt into the shadows as Vox could dissolve into light - but he thrashed, claws brandished, laughing madly as his 'speakers' crackled and bugled. Come get him.
Whether or not it was the usual, the moment he felt some connection with one of his cables, his own laughter was breathless, loaded with adrenaline. Vox only produced more, sparks glittering along the lengths of them as they went to join the first: That ankle, then the other, and others sought the wrists of the Radio Demon.
The Media Demon could leave it at that, but no no no, he'd take the risk. He rushed forward, grin widening, claws outstretched. Why let only the cables have their fun when he could get his hands in on the action? They couldn't get down to business until he had him on the floor.
Alastor instinctively lurched to make a leap away, to flee - and with the resistance of the cables grasping him his brain snapped right back to fight, claws reaching out and stretching out to grasp at his mate pal.
Kill him. Wring his neck, slice him open, bite and tear and chew and kill kill kill kill--
Through self restraint and Vox's manhandling, Alastor only chomped down on air before he growled, melting to shadow and sliding out of a window. Chase, chase, chase, chase, not eat--
He closed in fast, but his shoes skidded against the polished floor when claws stretched out. He'd known him for the entirety of his afterlife, knew exactly what the claws, the teeth were capable of.
He was flattered, enough that a rush crept up his back. Immortality came with perks, and he wondered how far they could go without pushing past a point of no return. That weird, weird, weird little corner of his brain wondered if there was a way he could let himself be opened up. Would Alastor perhaps be swayed if he could SEE his heart, and just what he was capable of even after all of these years-
His cables closed around nothing as the deer dissolved to smoke. He turned to catch him rushing out the window... tricky...
With a breathless chuckle, he was gone in a literal flash. Stray tongues of electricity leaped and skipped over the window frame as he made his way out, but he got himself an idea... a very big idea...
Vox reshaped and the wires were like spider's legs, carrying him along like extra limbs as his hands and feet sought purchase against the Hotel's architecture. But as he re-entered his pursuit, there was the sharp shred and pop of finely-tailed cotton- Velvette was going to be pissed, but that wasn't his problem- as he tapped into all the power he drank traveling through Pentagram City's power lines. His spine stretched, the tail of a shark jutting from beneath his coattails. Arms and legs elongated, ending in curved claws that left deep trenches in the earth once he reached the ground level.
He shook off, shedding ruined stretches of fabric. The fin on his back stood proud, glowing seams pulsing with a deep blue light in myriad patterns. With a sickening crack, his monitor split into four sections and clicked back together, shaping a slender head covered in red eyes, opening to a pair of shark-like jaws filled with teeth. Years of curiosity, years of looking over old and distorted photos of Alastor in that horrifying form left Vox with just one more thing to innovate: Himself.
Because what better way was there to face a beast than to become one yourself?
What a funny little moment to feel pride in something besides himself. Or was that wrong - because behold this beast, this wretched monster crackling with power and devilish light, yet another mimicry of his own powers.
That's his mate.
So long as Vox can catch him, that is - but if Alastor truly wanted to get away, he would simply slink into shadows and vanish into the crevices of the overly dense city. But that wouldn't be any fun.
Alastor's shadow emerged from between buildings, growing and blooming into the gangly, wretched form he preferred for making snacks of large crowds of Sinners. Let the chase resume - the maze of buildings and dense spires of brimstone surrounding the crater city were the trees for the 'doe' to duck and weave through.
Initial tests involved so much pain when he first gave it a try years back. But tonight that pain had been so, so dull, just a beat of discomfort that preceded so much liberation, so much hunger and bliss. He understood why Alastor took such a form, something so twisted yet so beautiful in some alien fashion that the CEO always failed to describe. Velvette had long gotten tired of hearing him fucking rattle on about it-
Two big, red eyes turned and burned brighter, delight unmasked as he spied the telltale shadow. He moved like a shot, as a shark gliding through water, in pursuit of something particularly tasty. He knew these streets. This was HIS city. Cars shuddered as he stormed past, and lights within surrounding businesses and outdoor fixtures blinked and pulsed with the rhythm of the blue lines running down the bared sections of his body.
He plotted a climb. That building...? No. This one. No, this one... he lunged and gripped tight against masonry and glass before he swiftly began scaling. Wires erupted from his back to add more grip to his climb, pull and secure. Once up top, he would leap from rooftop to rooftop. With a higher vantage point, he could widen his field of view.
Ah, what a wish it was of his to be able to do this every night...
Oh, how swiftly things went to utter chaos, like this!! Alastor clawed and kicked his way through buildings without care, cleaving a path of destruction that scratched an unscratchable itch in him that always reared its ugly head in the late autumn.
Scatter, vermin!! You wretched Sinners - murderers, rapists, cruel and pathetic little worms!
The draining of the power, ironically, gave Alastor so much more darkness to hide and dart through. His claws crunched through brick, mortar, glass - Vox would only have the light to see once he caught up, and until then, only the screams of startled or dying Sinners accompanied by Alastor's manic cackling led the way.
It's their song, Alastor... just like old times. Many eyes crinkled in glee, laces of drool connecting glowing teeth as he found himself laughing as well.
Broken glass glittered in stray light, brick and mortar would just gum up traffic for weeks... like that mattered compared to the hunt, and the way the scent of blood always seemed to compliment him. It would turn so many stomachs, but it never failed to put butterflies in his.
Vox lunged down a building, and his wires ripped massive trenches through the walls to slow his descent. But he kicked off the structure to send him forward, landing on all fours in the darkened streets, illuminated only by his glowing lines and the red of his eyes.
His shark's tail whipped and sent a half-dozen cars airborne, while others still crunched underfoot as he began a full-on sprint on all fours. Some couples enjoyed a frolic in the woods. Better ones enjoyed marauding through a crowded city with no goals other than finding each other.
His wires crept ahead, reaching, craving, embedding in any structure they can as he moved in his single-minded focus in closing the gap.
All worries were unreachable in Alastor's mind - any missgivings, any fear of reputation, any concept of exposure or lewdness - all that mattered was the rush as they tore through buildings and mountainous spires alike, the scent of blood and electricity and raw power they exuded.
Alastor saw the glow of blue surrounding him from behind before wire and claw caught him - perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. He was caught, fair and square, the two of them almost explosively powerful together - every part of his heat-addled body craved.
But the predator in him still had him whirl around, antlers branching out and crackling with sickly green sparks like massive transmission towers, swiping towards Vox along with elongated arms and claws, demanding wordlessly for Vox to not back down, to wrestle him down, to make his CLAIM--
The wire what sought purchase wound and gripped tight before more of the length snaked further up the calf, a slow and relishing touch. To be kept at such a distance for so long, for as much as they fought, slowly killed him inside no matter how much he enjoyed the cat and mouse game.
His heart lifted when he saw those antlers grow, countless prongs twisting and threatening to gore. Alastor turned and swung full force when Vox crossed that finish line, and he only just managed to duck those wild antlers. One set of claws raked and tore his pitifully ruined jacket and what remained of his vest, bit into skin and added fresh dribbles of red to the crumbled streets beneath them, but his hands were free to set upon him: One to seize an opposing arm of the Radio Demon, and another to clutch where that bow tie always was. The Media Demon advanced, applying full weight to a wrestling match.
More wires flew from his back to thrust into the ground and secure him, while others couldn't help themselves. To be so close like this again was such a rare opportunity, the tingle of electricity his own excitement as technological tendrils set around the red demon's middle, his thighs, a long stroke up his back.
Still more slithered down his own body in kind, tucking beneath and rending what remained of his own clothing asunder. Terrified masses could enjoy a combination wrestling match and undressing session, but it'd be their one warning before this strange blue amalgamation of man and machine would give a sound that was a combination of an electric buzz and a purr. Amid the hard coating painted over countless wires and the bite of clue claws, something softer, hotter began to grind against him, seeking and searching in the struggle. Then a second. He really was more shark-like...
Here. Now. Backed by alarmed screams and some distant car alarms that wailed and gradually died as battery damage in the collateral slowly ebbed the life out of them.
Alastor's free claws and hooves slashed at him, shredding cloth and spilling more and more blood.
It looked good. Red, red, deep angry visceral lively red, it made Alastor feel hungry... and wanting in a way that was still so foreign to him. His body fought because that is all Alastor has ever known... but those wires answered that hunger in spite of his thrashing, tearing at what shredded clothes were stifflingly hot and bringing something of such an unbelievable texture to grind between his legs, against dampened fur, something that Alastor was only ever dead silent about in his right mind.
Well. As 'right' as this madman ever is, that is.
Alastor's bloodlust poured from him, relishing the beauty of it raining down on him from where he cleaved it from Vox, but expanded further as the Radio Demon's shadow stretched and grabbed at those too close, tearing them apart in a glut of violence.
His wounds bled and throbbed but he didn't care. The pain added to his pleasure, the joy of being touched again, even like this. In their struggle against the street, his claws ran up those ribs, ruffling fine fur.
To the chorus of screams and fresh blood letting fly, Vox gripped tight as he lined himself up, then entered in one smooth motion. A few candles lit in a soft and cushy bedroom was something he was accustomed to, but he could see the vision here... this game, this chase, had its own immense allure.
He purred his bliss as he thrust deep, more wires winding around Alastor's thighs, easing him just a little further apart. If they were to give half the city a show on how this shit got done, the two best showmen in Hell couldn't go only halfway, now could they...?
The feeling of abrupt fullness, painful and utter bliss all at once, something FINALLY quenching the hungry flame assailing him - Alastor's deep, guttural keening was accompanied with the whine and sputters of microphone feedback. The scratching grew shallower, less aggressive and more clingy.
God, he fucking NEEDED this. Alastor spread his legs and hooked his claws into Vox's shoulder blades, drooling as he took Vox in and squeezed him greedily.
His screens flickered briefly into black and white snow when he felt that tight squeeze, the huff of breath from his jaws a steam. God... tighter than he'd ever experienced before.
The bite of claws was such a thrill, and each sound from Alastor was music to his ears. His grip adjusted, one set of claws taking to the ruined earth below for that precious balance while the other seized hold of the base of one of those impressive antlers.
Vox's pace would keep slow for a time, and he would use that antler to ease the other demon's head away. That long blue tongue traced the length of his neck, drawing along stray flecks of blood from the city-wide carnage and a little of his own in that coppery tang.
But once he felt things ease, his teeth grazed that throat. He tasted him as he started filling him faster.
Held down, grasped by an antler, his neck bitten and torn into by sharp serrated shark teeth as his body was claimed--
Alastor's teeth gnashed, equal parts frustrated, embarrassed and thrilled and proud. The raw animal need being met, that impossible itch being scratched, the scent of blood and fizzling electricity making his fur stand on end or even burn - what a luxury this heinous rutting was.
Lacking his natural pride, at least at the levels it normally held at, Alastor bared his throat for Vox to tear at even more - tear, bite, eat him, claim him...
This was the first time in so, so long that he actually enjoyed it. He didn't know what that said about him, and right now he didn't care. His heart sang in a primal victory, a successful chase, and it blended with an old, old feeling he only struggled with in the beginning of his damnation: Bloodlust.
Like a shark sensing blood in the water, he hungered with each little touch of it upon the air. But tasting it now as his teeth delved into the flesh of his prize, feeling the warmth of it on his tongue sent a hard shiver through him, right down to the newly-formed tail.
His free hand slid across the concrete, found his. Covered it, curled fingers. There was a ping that sang through the air, a single-minded signal of MINE. Monitors over half the city forcibly changed to a marquee of that word. No sounds. No music. It'd drown out the screams... it'd drown out the sounds he made beneath him...
The way his throat was torn out - leaving Alastor gargling, leaving his body screaming with the high of pain and desperate survival, the fire in his nerves from the desperate spark to survive clashing overwhelmingly with the crackle of pleasure of being rutted into, being so vulgarly filled and pushed to the limit.
And to top all of that off, Vox held his hand? Their claws scratched against each other, but nonetheless, amidst the chaos of feeling the little hint of softness connection tipped the buck over the edge completely. Alastor wetly growled, arching his back and gasping as his body orgasmed - a feeling he rarely chased at all - drawing all it could from the shark that had pinned it.
He felt incredible. He tasted so fucking good. His mind spun from the building, burning pleasure in his core, driving him harder into his rut. His breaths were short and growling, teeth stained with fresh blood, with the scent that made him wish to shiver and never stop. His always smelled the best amid the noisy, worthless masses that continued to overpopulate this place. Not good enough. Never good enough.
Not like him. As the buck growled and arched, the creature hunched over him offered a purr in response, the clutch of that claw tightening. That's it... his new favorite sound in this awful fucking world.
But it was like its own claw, grabbing him by lapels he no longer had at the moment, setting a vice grip before pulling him down, too. He drove in deep and hissed, his grip upon that antler and his neck possessive now as climax hit him in sharp waves. Vox spilled hard into his mate- yeah... that's the word, isn't it...?- and could hardly remember the last time his finish had been so thrilling, snatch his breath and leave him shuddering. The signals he sent dissolved into snow, into a tingling static.
He remained locked for a time he could hardly fathom. But as he gradually felt himself drifting back down, his body rolled to gently thrust, coaxing, pushing everything deeper.
Every languid thrust made Alastor's oversized, gangly body twitch and tremble in aftershocks, his throat gurgling and whining as it regenerated but tore again under the sawblade shark teeth that crackled with electricity that only make his own heat-boiled blood boil hotter. Alastor's signal was a similarly snowy feedback, spiking with intensity with every adjusted grip of the bite, every thrust, all of that stimuli.
Good, he decided, he felt good with pain like this. Raw, and feral, and alive. Couldn't find the will or strength in him to shove Vox away, craving his mate's seed and to grow heavy with fawns--
Pups?
God, they would be so strong...
"Gkkhhk..." Alastor growled, finding a renewed strength to reach an elongated arm around Vox and grasp onto the fin, trying to pull himself upright, trying to fight to push the shark around. He wanted MORE... it was a deep hunger in his belly, and Alastor's neck bones crackled as he strained against the way his antler was held, trying to twist and bite back.
Little more... just a little more until he was done with this one. There was definitely more where all of this came from, but he'd be a sorry partner if he left a job unfinished.
Alastor twisted around, found a hold upon his fin and he hissed, a sound of glee. He'd tasted so much now that old instinct had left him bottomless! He could fight him, chase him with renewed vigor, and he would be so, so glad to give the Radio Demon more of what he craved.
The shark's brain spun. The hand at the antler released after a lavish stroke, always so enamored with the things when Alastor let them grow. But it freed his palm to reach low...
"Tell me..." He purred between blood-soaked teeth, twisting his head to briefly catch one of those ears.
His palm settled upon the other demon's stomach, and as his claws curled, ran the tips with an unexpected gentleness across the skin.
The little gestures of gentleness rock Alastor to the core harder than every bite - Alastor shivered under that gentle touch, his body squeezing tightly around his mate's cock still sunk deep inside.
Four - that's the number that pings through the radio signal, followed by a deeply greedy, lustful or more!
Alastor sank his fangs into Vox's shoulder, growling and snarling as he tore at his mate. Hungry, he's so hungry... gangly hooves hooked around Vox's waist, denying him any ability to leave. His, his, he wants that cruelty and gentleness and the painful, blissful contrast to fill him FAT with fawns, or shark pups, anything he can take--
The signal sang through his system, its own rush over every nerve in him. That was a damn nice number... but he liked the 'or more' even better.
Every wire tightened its embrace in kind with the way those legs hooked around his waist, mutual reluctance to part. The animal hiss he gave as teeth tore into his shoulder was a mingled pain and pleasure, warm and deep red staining the teeth.
Anything he wanted... anything he needed...
The palm at his stomach pressed, held him there as he drove in deep and arched his back with a snarl. The power flickered through the streets, screens for several blocks fighting to remain on signal as this strange creature plunged into that long-awaited rush of climax. Each shuddering grind accompanied a warm pump, mingled blood and saliva running down the shark's chin.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2025-10-07 08:11 pm
no subject
He breathed a sigh as his fingers flew to his jacket, and with a shrug he slid it down. After whipping it aside, he stepped forward, his cables unfurling from his back. A current of power ran through them, giving them a gentle glow, a contrast to his shadow tendrils. Several red eyes joined his monitor above that accursed left that enjoyed digging into the minds of the masses, yet none of them saw fit to twist and change... no. Their gaze was one of an unmasked hunger.
"Then start ṙ͖ŭ̹ͦnn̢̓̑inͫg̵ͭ.̴̈́͆.̼͑ͪ.͔́̚" Red pixels trailed from his mouth as the cables shot out to seek purchase. Limited space? Didn't matter... make this interesting, little Doe...
no subject
Run.
Something sang in Alastor's heart, hearing that Vox not only knew the game - but understood it. His antlers grew out even more, branched and frenetic in a threat display. His tendrils emerged and swiped at the cables, granting him the chance to leap back and away from his suitor, even as every fiber of his being wanted Vox to catch him and wrestle him down.
no subject
Only one way to find out. With a low and husky laugh, Vox rushed forward in a literal flash, an arc of lightning that sprung high. When he reformed, his body 'shed' the power he'd gathered, lances of electricity to rain down. But with a twist of his wrist and the thrilled widening of his extra eyes, he sent it all dancing in a pattern. Funnel... funnel the Doe...
Meanwhile, his cords began to regroup. He just needed to create an opening to get those pretty legs.
no subject
More... more!!
Alastor wanted to bite him. Wanted to throw Vox to the ground and dig his claws through those guts and cables, wanted to get fried with electricity, wanted Vox to pin him and rearrange his guts--
Vox would find Alastor putting up less resistance than usual once a cable finally snagged at the deer's ankle. If he wanted, he could just as easily melt into the shadows as Vox could dissolve into light - but he thrashed, claws brandished, laughing madly as his 'speakers' crackled and bugled. Come get him.
no subject
The Media Demon could leave it at that, but no no no, he'd take the risk. He rushed forward, grin widening, claws outstretched. Why let only the cables have their fun when he could get his hands in on the action? They couldn't get down to business until he had him on the floor.
no subject
matepal.Kill him. Wring his neck, slice him open, bite and tear and chew and kill kill kill kill--
Through self restraint and Vox's manhandling, Alastor only chomped down on air before he growled, melting to shadow and sliding out of a window. Chase, chase, chase, chase, not eat--
no subject
He was flattered, enough that a rush crept up his back. Immortality came with perks, and he wondered how far they could go without pushing past a point of no return. That weird, weird, weird little corner of his brain wondered if there was a way he could let himself be opened up. Would Alastor perhaps be swayed if he could SEE his heart, and just what he was capable of even after all of these years-
His cables closed around nothing as the deer dissolved to smoke. He turned to catch him rushing out the window... tricky...
With a breathless chuckle, he was gone in a literal flash. Stray tongues of electricity leaped and skipped over the window frame as he made his way out, but he got himself an idea... a very big idea...
Vox reshaped and the wires were like spider's legs, carrying him along like extra limbs as his hands and feet sought purchase against the Hotel's architecture. But as he re-entered his pursuit, there was the sharp shred and pop of finely-tailed cotton- Velvette was going to be pissed, but that wasn't his problem- as he tapped into all the power he drank traveling through Pentagram City's power lines. His spine stretched, the tail of a shark jutting from beneath his coattails. Arms and legs elongated, ending in curved claws that left deep trenches in the earth once he reached the ground level.
He shook off, shedding ruined stretches of fabric. The fin on his back stood proud, glowing seams pulsing with a deep blue light in myriad patterns. With a sickening crack, his monitor split into four sections and clicked back together, shaping a slender head covered in red eyes, opening to a pair of shark-like jaws filled with teeth. Years of curiosity, years of looking over old and distorted photos of Alastor in that horrifying form left Vox with just one more thing to innovate: Himself.
Because what better way was there to face a beast than to become one yourself?
no subject
What a funny little moment to feel pride in something besides himself. Or was that wrong - because behold this beast, this wretched monster crackling with power and devilish light, yet another mimicry of his own powers.
That's his mate.
So long as Vox can catch him, that is - but if Alastor truly wanted to get away, he would simply slink into shadows and vanish into the crevices of the overly dense city. But that wouldn't be any fun.
Alastor's shadow emerged from between buildings, growing and blooming into the gangly, wretched form he preferred for making snacks of large crowds of Sinners. Let the chase resume - the maze of buildings and dense spires of brimstone surrounding the crater city were the trees for the 'doe' to duck and weave through.
no subject
Two big, red eyes turned and burned brighter, delight unmasked as he spied the telltale shadow. He moved like a shot, as a shark gliding through water, in pursuit of something particularly tasty. He knew these streets. This was HIS city. Cars shuddered as he stormed past, and lights within surrounding businesses and outdoor fixtures blinked and pulsed with the rhythm of the blue lines running down the bared sections of his body.
He plotted a climb. That building...? No. This one. No, this one... he lunged and gripped tight against masonry and glass before he swiftly began scaling. Wires erupted from his back to add more grip to his climb, pull and secure. Once up top, he would leap from rooftop to rooftop. With a higher vantage point, he could widen his field of view.
Ah, what a wish it was of his to be able to do this every night...
no subject
Scatter, vermin!! You wretched Sinners - murderers, rapists, cruel and pathetic little worms!
The draining of the power, ironically, gave Alastor so much more darkness to hide and dart through. His claws crunched through brick, mortar, glass - Vox would only have the light to see once he caught up, and until then, only the screams of startled or dying Sinners accompanied by Alastor's manic cackling led the way.
no subject
Broken glass glittered in stray light, brick and mortar would just gum up traffic for weeks... like that mattered compared to the hunt, and the way the scent of blood always seemed to compliment him. It would turn so many stomachs, but it never failed to put butterflies in his.
Vox lunged down a building, and his wires ripped massive trenches through the walls to slow his descent. But he kicked off the structure to send him forward, landing on all fours in the darkened streets, illuminated only by his glowing lines and the red of his eyes.
His shark's tail whipped and sent a half-dozen cars airborne, while others still crunched underfoot as he began a full-on sprint on all fours. Some couples enjoyed a frolic in the woods. Better ones enjoyed marauding through a crowded city with no goals other than finding each other.
His wires crept ahead, reaching, craving, embedding in any structure they can as he moved in his single-minded focus in closing the gap.
no subject
Alastor saw the glow of blue surrounding him from behind before wire and claw caught him - perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. He was caught, fair and square, the two of them almost explosively powerful together - every part of his heat-addled body craved.
But the predator in him still had him whirl around, antlers branching out and crackling with sickly green sparks like massive transmission towers, swiping towards Vox along with elongated arms and claws, demanding wordlessly for Vox to not back down, to wrestle him down, to make his CLAIM--
no subject
His heart lifted when he saw those antlers grow, countless prongs twisting and threatening to gore. Alastor turned and swung full force when Vox crossed that finish line, and he only just managed to duck those wild antlers. One set of claws raked and tore his pitifully ruined jacket and what remained of his vest, bit into skin and added fresh dribbles of red to the crumbled streets beneath them, but his hands were free to set upon him: One to seize an opposing arm of the Radio Demon, and another to clutch where that bow tie always was. The Media Demon advanced, applying full weight to a wrestling match.
More wires flew from his back to thrust into the ground and secure him, while others couldn't help themselves. To be so close like this again was such a rare opportunity, the tingle of electricity his own excitement as technological tendrils set around the red demon's middle, his thighs, a long stroke up his back.
Still more slithered down his own body in kind, tucking beneath and rending what remained of his own clothing asunder. Terrified masses could enjoy a combination wrestling match and undressing session, but it'd be their one warning before this strange blue amalgamation of man and machine would give a sound that was a combination of an electric buzz and a purr. Amid the hard coating painted over countless wires and the bite of clue claws, something softer, hotter began to grind against him, seeking and searching in the struggle. Then a second. He really was more shark-like...
Here. Now. Backed by alarmed screams and some distant car alarms that wailed and gradually died as battery damage in the collateral slowly ebbed the life out of them.
no subject
It looked good. Red, red, deep angry visceral lively red, it made Alastor feel hungry... and wanting in a way that was still so foreign to him. His body fought because that is all Alastor has ever known... but those wires answered that hunger in spite of his thrashing, tearing at what shredded clothes were stifflingly hot and bringing something of such an unbelievable texture to grind between his legs, against dampened fur, something that Alastor was only ever dead silent about in his right mind.
Well. As 'right' as this madman ever is, that is.
Alastor's bloodlust poured from him, relishing the beauty of it raining down on him from where he cleaved it from Vox, but expanded further as the Radio Demon's shadow stretched and grabbed at those too close, tearing them apart in a glut of violence.
no subject
To the chorus of screams and fresh blood letting fly, Vox gripped tight as he lined himself up, then entered in one smooth motion. A few candles lit in a soft and cushy bedroom was something he was accustomed to, but he could see the vision here... this game, this chase, had its own immense allure.
He purred his bliss as he thrust deep, more wires winding around Alastor's thighs, easing him just a little further apart. If they were to give half the city a show on how this shit got done, the two best showmen in Hell couldn't go only halfway, now could they...?
no subject
God, he fucking NEEDED this. Alastor spread his legs and hooked his claws into Vox's shoulder blades, drooling as he took Vox in and squeezed him greedily.
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The bite of claws was such a thrill, and each sound from Alastor was music to his ears. His grip adjusted, one set of claws taking to the ruined earth below for that precious balance while the other seized hold of the base of one of those impressive antlers.
Vox's pace would keep slow for a time, and he would use that antler to ease the other demon's head away. That long blue tongue traced the length of his neck, drawing along stray flecks of blood from the city-wide carnage and a little of his own in that coppery tang.
But once he felt things ease, his teeth grazed that throat. He tasted him as he started filling him faster.
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Alastor's teeth gnashed, equal parts frustrated, embarrassed and thrilled and proud. The raw animal need being met, that impossible itch being scratched, the scent of blood and fizzling electricity making his fur stand on end or even burn - what a luxury this heinous rutting was.
Lacking his natural pride, at least at the levels it normally held at, Alastor bared his throat for Vox to tear at even more - tear, bite, eat him, claim him...
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Like a shark sensing blood in the water, he hungered with each little touch of it upon the air. But tasting it now as his teeth delved into the flesh of his prize, feeling the warmth of it on his tongue sent a hard shiver through him, right down to the newly-formed tail.
His free hand slid across the concrete, found his. Covered it, curled fingers. There was a ping that sang through the air, a single-minded signal of MINE. Monitors over half the city forcibly changed to a marquee of that word. No sounds. No music. It'd drown out the screams... it'd drown out the sounds he made beneath him...
Too close. Fuck. FUCK. No, he wanted more...
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And to top all of that off, Vox held his hand? Their claws scratched against each other, but nonetheless, amidst the chaos of feeling the little hint of
softnessconnection tipped the buck over the edge completely. Alastor wetly growled, arching his back and gasping as his body orgasmed - a feeling he rarely chased at all - drawing all it could from the shark that had pinned it.no subject
Not like him. As the buck growled and arched, the creature hunched over him offered a purr in response, the clutch of that claw tightening. That's it... his new favorite sound in this awful fucking world.
But it was like its own claw, grabbing him by lapels he no longer had at the moment, setting a vice grip before pulling him down, too. He drove in deep and hissed, his grip upon that antler and his neck possessive now as climax hit him in sharp waves. Vox spilled hard into his mate- yeah... that's the word, isn't it...?- and could hardly remember the last time his finish had been so thrilling, snatch his breath and leave him shuddering. The signals he sent dissolved into snow, into a tingling static.
He remained locked for a time he could hardly fathom. But as he gradually felt himself drifting back down, his body rolled to gently thrust, coaxing, pushing everything deeper.
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Good, he decided, he felt good with pain like this. Raw, and feral, and alive. Couldn't find the will or strength in him to shove Vox away, craving his mate's seed and to grow heavy with fawns--
Pups?
God, they would be so strong...
"Gkkhhk..." Alastor growled, finding a renewed strength to reach an elongated arm around Vox and grasp onto the fin, trying to pull himself upright, trying to fight to push the shark around. He wanted MORE... it was a deep hunger in his belly, and Alastor's neck bones crackled as he strained against the way his antler was held, trying to twist and bite back.
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Alastor twisted around, found a hold upon his fin and he hissed, a sound of glee. He'd tasted so much now that old instinct had left him bottomless! He could fight him, chase him with renewed vigor, and he would be so, so glad to give the Radio Demon more of what he craved.
The shark's brain spun. The hand at the antler released after a lavish stroke, always so enamored with the things when Alastor let them grow. But it freed his palm to reach low...
"Tell me..." He purred between blood-soaked teeth, twisting his head to briefly catch one of those ears.
His palm settled upon the other demon's stomach, and as his claws curled, ran the tips with an unexpected gentleness across the skin.
"...How many I'm giving you..."
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Four - that's the number that pings through the radio signal, followed by a deeply greedy, lustful or more!
Alastor sank his fangs into Vox's shoulder, growling and snarling as he tore at his mate. Hungry, he's so hungry... gangly hooves hooked around Vox's waist, denying him any ability to leave. His, his, he wants that cruelty and gentleness and the painful, blissful contrast to fill him FAT with fawns, or shark pups, anything he can take--
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Every wire tightened its embrace in kind with the way those legs hooked around his waist, mutual reluctance to part. The animal hiss he gave as teeth tore into his shoulder was a mingled pain and pleasure, warm and deep red staining the teeth.
Anything he wanted... anything he needed...
The palm at his stomach pressed, held him there as he drove in deep and arched his back with a snarl. The power flickered through the streets, screens for several blocks fighting to remain on signal as this strange creature plunged into that long-awaited rush of climax. Each shuddering grind accompanied a warm pump, mingled blood and saliva running down the shark's chin.
HͥI̤̥S̩.̱ No͂bͩ̋ơd̤͂y͉ el̳͜s̢̝e͔'s̸..͑.͋̀͠
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