Since everyone else is cluttering up the first page of the Fanfics forum with drabble threads and pushing down other threads from being seen by people too lazy to go to page two, I guess I'll do the same. Here's something I doodled for tusia.The following is NSFW and contains gore.
She landed softly without a sound. Her armor drew in the darkness around her, like a vortex drinking in the night. Even though the moon was bright in the night sky, only the barest outlines of her armor could be seen. But she was not trying to be subtle. The cracks within her armor glowed angrily in the night, reflecting the arousal and rage that dominated her thoughts.
Her lips thinned as she scanned the city with a tinge of a frown. The night air was refreshing up here. It was a welcoming change to the stifling atmosphere of attempting to blend in with the crowds below.
Her nose twitched as she caught familiar scents of culinary delights. They were smells of simple foods that she had once enjoyed, but now these feelings only fueled her baser instincts. She wanted to hunt, kill and devour.
As she found her prey’s trail, her lips parted for an instant that she drew in a breath. An evil hiss escaped her and she was dashing and gliding through the sky. The autumn air was cold against her skin. At the speed she traveled, even breathing in was like hundreds of tiny icicles poking into her nostrils. She found it a little hard to breathe with the pressure pushing across against her nose and opted to breathe through her lips in quick draws.
Her form was but a shadow that none below even noticed her passing. The only lasting evidence of her existence was a thin vaporous trail of precipitation that disappeared into the cold air moments later. She had found her target traveling home.
It was not difficult, especially since so few Japanese had red hair. That he wore his distinctive long-sleeve shirt and carried several bags of groceries only made it clearer that it was him. But as she drew closer, she found his scent and saw his golden eyes. She knew it was him.
She dropped down with a warning, but her prey was either extremely lucky or just had great senses. Either way, she found herself staring into his eyes rather than crushing his back.
He looked at her, his eyes darting from her pale, golden locks of hair down to her black, jagged gauntlets. His shock was obvious in his wide eyes and she could taste his delicious fear in the air. He choked out a confused cry before she interrupted him with a punch to his throat, “Sab—urk!”
The sharp edges of the knuckles of her gauntlets had poked tiny holes in his skin. Thin lines of blood trickled out of them as he choked on his own fluids as he struggled on the ground.
Her victim groaned in pain, “W-Why…?”
She picked him up by the collar of his shirt, only to drop him down again. The impact on the back of his skull dazed him, causing his eyes to roll as he tried to remain conscious. She found his struggle amusing, but disgusting at the same time. So she stepped on one of his shoulders and pressed down against his joints. Through the white fabrics of his shirt, she saw blots of red bleeding through as the jagged points on her greaves stabbed into him.
“Aah! S-Stop…!” He yelled, “Why a-are you…?”
The sound of his bones resisting her was soft at first, but grew louder and louder. Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile as she felt his bones crack and break under her foot. The neighborhood they were in was all but abandoned, so when his shrill shriek echoed through the night, she found it echoing back to her. She felt her spine shivering with each of his desperate gasps and her nipples hardening under her armor.
“Oh,” she whispered huskily, “I do this because…”
The smell of his blood permeated the air now. In her brief moment of excitement, she had almost completely severed his arm from his body. She caught this and grimaced in annoyance. It would just not do. She stood away, studying her prey. He was still struggling to stand, and perhaps trying to escape somehow. He whimpered up at her in question, “Because…?”
That single minded defiance within him was what she wanted to crush. She knew she could not do it in a single night though, but she would try nevertheless.
He looked left and right, seeing only darkness. He had turned back to her and gurgled something out to her while raising his good arm, as if that would stop her. His eyes, wide and dilated, darted around but ultimately fixed on her. He looked as if he could not believe this was happening. He looked like he wanted to deny this was happening. And for all her stoicism, she found herself giggling softly. She would have probably enjoyed this if she could.
She growled, “Because I want to.”
Her tainted sword materialized within her grasp without a sound. The red lines etched on the flats of the blade glowed even hotter than the angry cracks on her armor. She pointed the blade down at his feet and stabbed. The edge of the mythical blade had cut through his flesh and bones like butter. The cuts were clean and severed his feet off right at the ankles.
“AAAAHHH!!” His throat was dry and hoarse from screaming, but he could not stop screaming still.
She found the volume of his shrieks doubled and had grown hoarse already. But it was far too soon to be tired of crying, she thought. Spittle was flying with his agonized cries out of his frothing lips. She leaned closer and took in this delicious sight for all that it was worth. There was no overwhelming darkness or fantastical evil for him to defeat here. There was only pain.
She would not have him bleed out and die so soon. No, she decided as she grabbed both stumps of his legs and gripped. She gripped hard, though not too hard that she would rip more flesh apart. She only gripped hard enough for the stumps to stop bleeding out. His muscles had protested first, only to be squeeze passed the point of recovery. Then his bones protested next, only to be broken into thousands of tiny pieces. She did not have fires to cauterize his wounds, so squeezing him so hard that his flesh would stay knitted together would have to do.
But his flesh wouldn’t stay together. The moment she let go, his flesh fell limp on the asphalt. Blood kept flowing freely as his whimpers started to soften. She grimaced again and took up a leg. Then she broke all the bones along the leg, so that it would twist freely. The skin of his leg was now dark and purple in color, though it was hard to see this through the blood. She twisted it again, trying to tie it up into a knot, but pieces of bone, flesh and other matter split out from the loose end.
Still, what she did stemmed most of the blood loss, she decided. So she grabbed his other leg and repeated the process.
“U-uh… A-ah…” His screams mixed with his moans as he had already found himself too tired to scream as loudly as he first did. “P-Please…” He stuttered, “P-Please stop…”
There were several streaks of tears running down from the corners of his eyes that she just noticed. They glimmered slightly under the moonlight, accentuating the beauty of his torment in her heart. She huffed, “Don’t stop now,” and continued.
He whimpered up at her, asking her something unintelligible. It was rather pathetic, so she bent down and pried his lips apart. Only, she used a little too much strength, and had unhinged his jaw. It resulted in a watery crunch of bone and flesh, but she could at least fit her hand into his mouth now. So she reached in and grabbed his tongue. The slippery little thing couldn’t move away from her hand quickly enough, and the sharp edges of her gauntlet quickly fixed his tongue in her grasp with several punctures.
She tugged at his tongue, though she was more careful now because she didn’t want to pull too much out. After a moment, she frowned. It was more difficult than she had initially thought.
The annoyance and irritation grew within her, causing her growls to become more feral and mad. These emotions grew to rage to a point that she found it hard to contain. So she let it go.
And then she tore his tongue, with his whole mouth, off.
He looked like he wanted to scream at her. Quick puffs of air streamed out of his nose, along with some kind of muffled noise. His eyes were wide beyond any point she had seen before. His pupils had slowly rolled back, but not to the point that he wasn’t watching her anymore. He wanted to scream, but he had no mouth.
Her rosy lips, red with arousal, curled ever so slightly as she whispered gently down into his ears, “Don’t fall asleep so soon. I’m just getting started.” But she knew he was nearing a point of passing out. Even if he was stupidly stubborn in his own way of staying awake as long as he could, she knew she was reaching his pain threshold.
So she began ripping him apart. With each delicate cut, her gauntlets slowly, painstakingly ripped open his skin, leaving lines of red in their wake that he could only stare in horror at. She watched his eyes tremble with the utter despair of man who knew he was going to die.
With each nail torn off, with each shred of flesh removed, and with each piece of bone dug out, his fear built and built towards the inevitable climax. He was going to die, after all. There was simply nothing he could do about it.
Yet she kept touching him. She touched him in a way no woman had touched him before, and it caused something to arouse within him. Despite all the pain, despite all the torture, he could not help but feel hard. He could not help being hard in his feeling of helplessness.
She saw this, and a slow grin blossomed on her cheeks, the first full grin she has had in a long time. She ripped his pants off, even while they were both covered in his blood. There, his member stood erect in the cold night.
Her hands snaked up and down his body slowly, far more sensually than before. The claws of her gauntlets raked thin, shallow red lines down his chest. Her fingers barely scratched against his nipples, while her other hand circled around the smooth skin of his thighs. In his moments before death, his waist could not help but thrust upwards towards the sky in the desperation lost to his eyes.
Her hands snaked closer, cool to his skin. The sensation left goosebumps all over him, even his spine shiver in a strange mixture of pain and delight. Then she grasped him at his base, and allowed the surface of her cold gauntlet to barely scrap against his foreskin. When her hand passed the head, she gripped ever so slightly tighter than before, stroking downwards all the way. She rubbed him again and again, slowly caressing him towards full hardness.
Then she crushed his member and pierced his nipples. She dragged her claws deep down into his stomach as her other hand pierced him and shredded his member apart.
She tore out his nails and his bones, slashing part his flesh, and tried her best to keep him alive. After all, he was not the main dish this night. She pulled and tugged and shredded and grinded until he was barely anything more than a mess of red.
Then she tossed him aside, too bored with him to bother even destroying what’s left or burying him.
She found her next target not too far away, waiting for his arrival. Her prey seemed to not have sensed that he would not come, but her prey would learn soon enough. She licked her lips unconsciously at the sight of her next prey, a delicious little minx waiting for her to feast upon. She would sate her desire on this little bird next. Just watching her prey, in her blue skirt and black pantyhose caused her to salivate. The little prey’s face, so similar to her own, was content and oblivious. But soon she will delight in bringing orgasmic expressions to those alabaster cheeks as she…
“Well,” Alter muttered with sinful anxiety, “I’m going to fuck you silly, Saber.”
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Originally Posted by deviatesfish
