He had not been awake for some time. The past two months had been a haze of existing — and nothing else. Hybrid could not remember feeling alive or awake or conscious or real in some time. It was a glorious feeling to be alive again; to know he was alive. His own consciousness was startling: he could feel his chest move each time he inhaled and exhaled, and he could feel the ground beneath his paws. Now that he was alive, he needed to see something die. No. That was crude. Now that he could feel, he needed to feel more. He needed, wanted, lusted for more. He licked his chops in anticipation. Greed. Greed. It was only one syllable, but it was so robust and full. He grinned. He was alive.



He began his descent down the steep rock face of the ravine, edging closer to the choppy water. He stared out at the waves, which appeared darker with the overcast sky. The day in general was quite miserable, and it only made Hybrid feel that much more real knowing he was there, existing. He was taking up space some other creature might have. He had existed for so long and no he was alive again. He could feel the spray of the cold water as it violently lapped against the rocks. He shivered and grinned.



He began to run. He started out slow, climbing back up the rocks, slowly making his way. But once he had cleared the ravine -- once he was out, away from the way and the pain and the spray and the cold -- and the fucking cold -- he began to run. He ran west until he was nearing the border of Inferni territory. He continued to run, letting his long Secui legs bring him farther from familiarity and comfort. Slowly, west turned into southwest, which then became south. Before he knew it, he was in Arachnea's Revenge, and was nearing the outskirts of Halifax. He grinned, then laughed. He felt alive.

Hybrid had lost himself. He had not realized what happened until it was too late and he was pinned to the ground, beneath the fangs of an inferior. Hybrid snarled at the realization and the weight that forced him to the ground. He bared his fangs, cursing wildly. Hybrid had not even noticed the presence of another. He was such a fuck up. He had lost grasp with reality for only a moment, and it led to his demise. His fucking demise at the fangs of a fucking mother lover.



"Fuck," he barely rasped, chest breathing from the exertion of speaking. "Go," he urged the other creature with a dark grin. "Go, go, go, do it," he said, laughing. Shrieking. He had lost. He had lost and he knew it and fuck he was going to die, wasn't he? of course he would and he knew it and it was over and he was over and fuck fuck fuck.



Hybrid opened his eyes. Samael. Hybrid began to laugh. He could feel the other coyote now. He continued laughing, but it soon became a snarl. Hybrid glowered at his captor, but did not attempt to move or free himself. He remained still. Deathly still. Waiting. Wanting to laugh. Grinning, now. Snarling, again. Silent.

Hybrid felt like he was becoming something else. Someone else. Becoming Samael. Becoming a masochist. For now. But only for Samael. The feeling of Samael's fangs against his throat caused Hybrid's chest to seize and clench, a strange, painful -- yet pleasurable -- feeling. He remained still, anticipating and waiting for the next move. Waiting for the next feeling, this strange, strange feeling. He shivered as he felt Samael's teeth tear his flesh; exhaled slowly as the smell of blood permeated the air. Hybrid's limbs felt heavy, but that was alright; he had no intention to move at all.



Hybrid then realized that his panic has quickly been replaced by a feeling of content, or perhaps, a feeling of calmness. It was strange, but it intrigued him, much like Samael did. Hybrid grinned at Samael's words, laughing raucously. "Yes, my sweet. I missed you, too," Hybrid replied, perhaps with a little more honesty than Samael. Hybrid's grin widened as he followed Samael's gaze. Fuck was the only thing he could think of. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I'm touched, Samael replied. Hybrid had to restrain himself from laughing -- touched, yes, touched in so many ways. Touched in the head (but Hybrid was too) touched, touched all over the last time they had seen one another. Touched when Hybrid had scarred his pretty face. Touched when Hybrid had gripped his wrist with such force. Touched when Hybrid saw him fucking a tree. Hybrid frowned. His chest clenched at the thought of Samael and a tree. Fuck, was he jealous? No, he hadn't been then. And the tree could not compare to Hybrid's... sexual prowess. Not at all.




"You should be," Hybrid replied. "Should feel fucking privileged," he clarified. He licked his chops. How could he say it? Fuck me, Samael? No, that was too inelegant. After all, Hybrid was a very elegant, suave, charismatic coyote. He had fucking charm. He grinned.



"Fuck me, Samael." It would be his welcome home present.

Hybrid could feel Samael's weight pressing down against him; it was a perpetual reminder of Samael's newfound dominance. Every time in the past, Hybrid had liked to think of himself as always being in control. Being on top, being the male, being something that somehow made him superior to Samael. Something had changed now, and Hybrid didn't know what. Something was simply different. Hybrid had not been feeling any different earlier that day -- he had not been prowling the night with strength in his step. In fact, he had simply been meandering through the various parts of 'Souls without any real purpose. But now, he felt a real kind of strength. A strength from submission and acceptance.



Unfortunately, Hybrid was a impertinent and impatient beast of a coyote. He shuddered as he felt Samael's teeth travel down his form. He exhaled slowly, slowly, slowly, as Samael dragged his claws across Hybrid's flesh, and finally growled as Samael nipped him on the hips. Hybrid was an impatient little fucker.



"Are you planning on doing anything? Hurry the fuck up," he growled. He tried to shuffle closer, tried to increase their contact, tried to somehow feel Samael, more, more, more. Hybrid reached around, clawing at Samael's head with his right hand, trying to pull him closer, anything, more. It was a primitive lust, a bestial rage that consumed him. Lust and passion mixed and Samael was his only release. He shifted again, trying to rock his hips and grind into the other male. Friction, fucking friction, fucking anything was what Hybrid needed





Hybrid was a fucking addict and Samael was his only fix.

        Hybrid was not in the mood for teasing. Samael wasn’t much either, but he did it anyway, taking a moment to slowly savor the form beneath him and to torment the other male into insanity. He wouldn’t give him what he wanted, not just yet. Not until he couldn’t stand it anymore and simply begged Samael to destroy him. He grasped at his hair, the long, black strands hanging around Samael’s mangled face and across his shoulders. A soft, dull snarl slipped past his lips, using one hand to grasp at Hybrid’s member for support. “Miss me that much?” he crooned, tongue slipping past his lips to travel his length. He took him into his mouth, tongue caressing as he moved deeper.

Hybrid was desperate, wanting, but fuck, he was competitive too. He could pretend he wasn't begging and hold back his moans, but he knew he would break eventually. Until then, Hybrid hated to lose, especially to Samael. Hybrid's growls came out in long, rasping, choked breaths, short and quick; painful. Hybrid writhed under Samael's touch, stifling a moan, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache. But still, whenever he opened his jaws for a moment, a rasping moan would surface and Hybrid would clamp down again.



He could hear Samael taunting him, now. Hybrid was about to reply, and paused just long enough to open his jaws once more when Samael took his entire length in his mouth. This time, Hybrid couldn't hold back: "fuck, fuck, fuck," was all he managed. He wanted this so much and had waited so fucking long. Hybrid was an impatient beast and Samael was taking his fucking time, "fuck,". Hybrid tried to grab hold of something, dragging his claws along Samael's head, attempting to grab a fistful of hair. Nothing.

        He continued where he was, pleased at the desperation Hybrid seemed to be showing for him. Deep, release. Deep, release. In, out. In, out. Playing and tormenting, until Samael himself just wanted nothing more than to tear him apart with his claws. To rip into his belly and spill his warm innards onto the soil, drinking up the torrents of blood that would accompany. But he wouldn’t allow him absolute release this way. He stopped, licking the edge of his belly while bloodred eyes maliciously regarded the other’s expression. No, Hybrid would endure far more at his hands before he was finished. Teeth ripped at his flesh, fully intending to bring blood to the surface. Sweet, metallic blood to stain his pretty fur crimson. To fill his nostrils with the thick, delicious odor, mingling with the scent of Hybrid’s arousal.

Hybrid felt powerless. He was trapped beneath Samael in more ways than one, and undoubtedly at Samael's mercy. The mere thought of relinquishing all his power and dominance to the other male made Hybrid cringe. Samael could destroy him any moment he wanted. Samael could break him and scar him, and Hybrid would not be able to do anything about it.



Samael drew blood. Hybrid gasped, writhing uncontrollably at the sensation, overcome with pain. Hybrid snarled, throwing his head back, breath heaving laboriously. He grasped at Samael again, clawing for the other's head, in need of something to hold on to.



The smell of blood was apparent. "Samael," Hybrid snarled, whipping his head from side to side. "Samael," he repeated, deeper and more forcefully. His words came out mangled, drawing out the syllables, barely managing to utter the other male's name. Hybrid snarled, confused and worried; he could not tell what he was feeling now. Pain? Anger? Arousal? Somehow, Samael manged to break all his preconceptions, and now, Hybrid didn't know what to think -- or feel. It wasn't too long before he would break.

        The blood was everywhere, tingeing his muzzle and tongue a deep russet hue. Vision darkened with pleasure and desire, animalistic in his relentless, unbridled lust. And Hybrid was his perfect lover—despite being a male—with his equally fucked up perceptions and shattered mind. Claws found their way into his hair, sinking into his scalp and drawing blood to the surface beneath the jet-black strands. The torn, mangled uttering of his name brought a vicious expression to his face, pulling his legs unceremoniously apart and settling on his knees between them.


        He jerked his head away from his grasp, crimson droplets spilling down his forehead and face from beneath his dark hair. Lifting the other coyote’s torso with both hands, he pushed himself violently within, almost reveling in the searing, sharp pain resulting. Low, harsh snarl tore from his throat, baring his fangs and thrusting deep into the warmth of his body. Supporting with one arm, the other found it’s way to Hybrid, rubbing against him to ensure he gained some sort of pleasure.

Samael was a maddening personification of pure sensations, a simplicity befitting for him. Hybrid's grip tightened, digging his claws in as Samael disengaged himself and moved away. Hybrid snarled, about to push himself up onto his elbows when Samael changed tactics. Hybrid felt the other male's claws touch his thighs, dig in, then yank his legs apart. There was no ceremony or tact in the other creature's actions -- not a semblance of elegance -- but pure and simple power. Hybrid grinned, realizing it was he who had relinquished that power. The feeling was invigorating.



Again, again, it was the same thing. The scent of arousal was strong and Hybrid writhed under Samael's touch and gaze. He knew what would happen; he knew, fucking knew, knew, knew -- felt it now, could feel what was happening. Hybrid could feel -- feel Samael forcing himself into him and jerking him off. Hybrid tried to grab onto something, but found nothing. He dug his claws into the dirt, lifting himself higher and putting more weight onto his shoulders so Samael could gain better access. Feel, feel, feel, that was all Hybrid could reasonably do; feel, feel, feel, fuck, faster, feel. Feel. Hybrid dug his claws deeper in to the dirt, trying to hold on. He arched up, dragging in deep, raspy breaths, trying to steady himself. Eventually, he managed: "I--" before pausing, and then: "S'mael," he croaked, before he came.

It was over just as quickly as it had began. Every time he saw Samael, it ended the same way, always with the smell of sex heavy in the air. Hybrid glanced over to where Samael was now, silently watching the other coyote as he spoke. His face was distorted with a mass of scars, as were his arms and body. Although Hybrid was not one much for pillow talk, mushy love stories, or heartfelt admissions, he thought Samael looked perfect. He twitched slightly as he felt Samael's tongue on his stomach, exhaling loudly. All Hybrid could do was feel, feel, feel, feel, and that was all Samael would allow him.



Feel, feel, feel, feel. Talk, talk, talk, talk.



"We should do something again sometime," Hybrid noted. He wondered if every encounter of theirs would leave him with a new scar or wound. He certainly hoped so. He grinned, wondering if he could make these visits a regular occurrence.

word count; 187

         Though he adored the regularity of their encounters, Samael was far from monogamous. It wasn’t even certain if such a thing could be obtained from the hell prince, leaving him truly devoted to only one lover alone. He dreamed of such a life with Kaena, but even then, his lust was unbridled and sought release whenever and wherever possible. Hybrid was one, along with many others he encountered along the way. Claw hand running across the flesh of his belly, taking in the lines of his form and reveling in the scent of sex and the feel of his skin, he smirked back, muttering softly from beneath the veil of his jet-black hair.

         “Of course, love.” Their encounters were nearly perfect, with the metallic stench of blood on the air and the searing tear of his flesh as nails ripped and tore through his skin. Not many others could match the beauty of their particular coupling, and Samael knew he could never deny this. He was content with what they had, and enjoyed nothing more than physical release with or without regard for the other creature.