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She was wearing that look again, the sour twist of her lips that meant she couldn't take it anymore. It was hard, shaking off a troll's nature and trying to get by in a kinder, gentler world. It was hard, and it grew even harder the older she got. They were all struggling, except perhaps Tavros. None of them, however, had as hard a time as Vriska.
Even when they were kids, she had always been the meanest, the bitchiest, the most troll-like of them all. Now that they were practically adults, the instincts were almost overwhelming. She even considered eating sopor slime, like Gamzee, just to shake off the nightmares and the violent urges that bubbled under her blood. Equius might have had to resort to that solution as well, if not for his submission fetish and his collection of robots to smash.
Vriska still had one thing going for her, though, that kept her from hitting the slime. She had a matesprit, or a boyfriend, rather, who couldn't die. Or to be more accurate, he didn't stay dead. And he was very, very supportive.
* * *
The first time it happened, John had come home to find his house a mess. The sofa looked like it had exploded, with pieces of stuffing trailing from room to room and hanging from broken ceiling fans and toppled bookcases. Deep gouges left the wallpaper peeling in shreds, and here and there he could even spot drips of azure blood. In a panic, he searched the entire house until he found her, huddled in her recuperacoon and scratching gruesome tracks down her arms.
He crawled inside and embraced her, fearless of the damage she could cause him. “It's okay,” he whispered, and she shook within his arms. “It's going to be okay.”
“I try! I really, really try!” she choked out in a tight voice, her throat burning. “But it just keeps building up and building up! And every time I slip, the others glare at me with those judging eyes, like it never happens to them! The others mess up all the fucking time, but they don't give each other nearly the amount of shit they give me! It's so hard and it's not fair and I can't stand it anymore!” Her claws dug into John's back, but he clenched his teeth and said nothing. “I should just run away from here, live like a hermit in some secluded, craggy mountain, live like the animal I am!” She finally lost the last grip on her tears and they began pouring down her gray cheeks.
John gripped her tighter. “Don't do that, Vriska! I love you! We will make this work, I promise!”
“But I just can't hold it back anymore,” she snuffled.
“Then don't! What you need is an outlet, some way to work off your instincts for violence.”
“But I promised you I wouldn't take a kismesis, remember? It tore you apart, even though you tried so hard to be understanding.”
“I know. But you can't be satisfied with only a matesprit, can you?” She shook her head. “Well, I'm not either of those things, I'm your boyfriend! And as such, it's my responsibility to take care of all of your needs! And if you need someone to fight, then let's fight!” He lifted her chin and gave her a derpy grin.
“But... you're human. I can't go all out on you, you'd die...” She trailed off, eyes widening. “Except... you're immortal!”
His grin widened. “Exactly! No matter what kind of damage you inflict on me, once I come back to life I'll be good as new! The others won't even know, I'll be spotless!”
“But... offering your life up just to help your girlfriend cope, mightn't that count as a heroic death?” she asked doubtfully. “I can't do it. Not if there's a chance you won't come back.” She leaned forward and kissed him firmly, finally noticing that her claws were tearing up his back and pulling them out of his skin.
John kissed her back and let his hands slip lower, dipping into the sopor slime and trailing down to her thighs. The two of them broke apart slowly, a touch of lust entering the haze of swirling emotions. “Haven't I always been open to trying all your crazy kinks?” he whispered in her ear.
“Mmmm, wonderfully so,” she purred. “But what does that have to do with this?”
“I don't think my death could possibly count as heroic. You see, I've got a selfish interest in all this, too.”
She blinked and looked up at him. “How?”
He blushed adorably as he explained. “Okay, I haven't told this to anyone, I've barely even admitted it to myself, but... I kind of miss dying.”
“Whyyyyyyyy?”
“It's just, you know, that helpless feeling of your life slipping away, the sudden release as your spirit is liberated from your body...” he trailed off, eyes distant. “And then that amazing sensation as your whole being is engulfed in light, your wounds disappearing as if they'd never existed, that newness and tingling power as you're brought back to vibrant life!” His blue eyes took a rapturous sheen.
“If you say so,” Vriska said, her eyebrows high. “I mean, I get the second part, but all my memories of dying are rather tinged with panic and desperation.”
“It should be even easier to relax and enjoy it when I know I coming back,” he said dreamily, then blinked and looked at her again. “So. Are you up for it?”
“I--” she hesitated, looking indecisive. “I do like the idea...”
John grinned mischievously and suddenly slipped the hand on her thigh in between her legs. “Then lets make this happen. We've made love like matesprits plenty of times. Tonight,” he said, rubbing his fingers against her in a way that made breath come faster, “fuck me like I'm your kismesis.”
* * *
That had been several months ago, and it worked exactly as John had planned. He indeed came back to life, and Vriska found it much easier to go through her day-to-day routine after that. Of course, the violent urges inherent to her kind never went away for long, but from now on Vriska had a way to release them before they built up past the point of her self-control. And it was pretty damn pleasurable, too.
Upon taking in that sour look on her face today, John wasted no time. Instead of a welcome home kiss, he bit her on the lips, summoned up the breeze, and flew up into the sky. Licking up the blood, Vriska watched him with predatory eyes, flapped her wings, and took up pursuit.
Gusts of wind buffeted against her, making her smile grimly. They had done this a few times already, and John was getting a good feel for how much resistance to give her to help stir up all her anger, without actually hurting her. Since she wasn't the one who would be coming back good as new, they had to make sure she didn't sustain any grievous injuries. Another blast of wind hit her, sending her spiraling toward the ground. She flapped hard and righted herself just in time, then tore after him with renewed vigor.
“Eat pavement, Troll Hook!” John's voice taunted, carried to her ears on the breeze.
“No one does that to me, Pupa Pan! You've foiled my plans for the last time!” she shouted back, grinning madly. She loved to roleplay during these violent sessions. It was even greater fun, and it also helped her separate the violence from her normal self. Last time they had played Mindfang and a willful slave, and John had taken a surprising amount of pleasure in being put in his place. She still had no idea how he managed to look so erotic doing it, instead of creepy like Equius. And then he had come back to life, and...
Her mouth watered. Focus, Vriska! One thing at a time!
They were approaching the edge of the city, and the forest that lay beyond. “Trying to escape to the safety of Neverland, Pupa? It will do you no good! There's nowhere you can hide from me!” He plunged into the dark canopy below, and she followed a short moment later. It was cooler under the shade of those leafy boughs, and John had already vanished behind the cover of hundreds of tree trunks. Vriska hadn't been bluffing, though, about his inability to hide. She didn't even need to use her vision eightfold. All she had to do was fly in the same direction as the flowing wind.
Troll Hook slowed down, eyes darting alertly as she maneuvered through the Neverland Woods. Pan was a clever foe, and he knew this forest like the back of his hand. He had no doubt set up traps for any unwary villain that dared to follow him this far. Yes, the unnatural angle of that vine there was a telltale sign! She skirted the area, and as she cocked her head she could almost swear she heard the disappointed curses of fairies and Lost Grubs. The leaves of the trees rustled tellingly, and she continued on in that direction.
The forest grew darker the deeper they traveled, the spiderwebs more prevalent. Pupa may have thought that the woods were nothing but a big playground, but Hook knew better. It was a place where evil things lurked. Pan actually thought he was traipsing through friendly territory, but he was wrong.
Dead wrong.
As Hook fluttered around a particularly thick trunk, the wind suddenly stopped. She paused, looking from side to side, then down to the ground below. She should have looked up first. With the mighty crow of a male cluckbeast, her sworn enemy leaped down from a high branch, slamming bodily into her and sending them both plummeting to the forest floor. With a snarl, Hook pushed him off and flapped her wings fiercely, yet again just barely avoiding a collision with the unforgiving ground.
Pan laughed his ever-present, cocky laugh as the wind lifted him up. “Oh, Hook, such a persistent suitor you are! How many times must you fall for me before you give up?” He brandished a sword and twirled it without a care.
“The games end tonight, Pan!” Hook growled as she pulled out her own sword. “I'm going to wipe that smug grin off your face once and for all!”
“You say that every time, Hook, yet it's still here!” He flashed his unusually large teeth in her direction, just to prove his point. “When are you going to realize that you're just not good enough?” His expression twisted into an ugly sneer, and Hook screeched with fury as she charged him. Their weapons clashed (with a sound like two sticks striking together, for some reason) and the battle truly began.
Hook made lunge after lunge, Pan easily deflecting the blows or dodging them entirely. They weaved around tree after tree, one of them maddened with rage and the other infuriatingly playful. “Just face it Hook, you're never going to win, not even once. You're nothing but an animal, a grown up! Look at you, all burdened down with pressures and responsibilities. Not me! I've got all the pluck and energy of the youth you used to be, and I'll never give it up! I don't even suffer any nightmares! It's easy for me, the world is my platter! You can't win against that, you old hag! Time is against you, but I'll never grow up, and there's nothing you can do to make me!”
Hook stopped in mid swing, her face frozen in a despairing grimace that was slowly melting into a look of stunned realization. Pan stopped as well, confused but pleased. “What's the matter, Hook? I haven't even struck a blow, yet you look like I've cut you to the core.” He gave a haughty sniff. “Have my words finally struck poison into your black heart?”
“No,” she said softly, putting her sword away. A faint smirk tugged at her lips. “Your arrogance has finally got the better of you, Pupa Pan. I never thought the day would come when you would blatantly confess your only weakness to your greatest foe.”
“What are you talking about?” Pan asked with an ugly frown. “I have no weaknesses! Has the rage finally eaten up your brain?”
She smiled wider, baring her teeth. Instead of answering though, she merely lifted a hand to the neck of her clothing, curled a claw over the fabric, and began to pull. The garment tore loudly, the sound of ripping cloth echoing through the empty forest. Farther down she pulled her razor-sharp claw, and farther down the rend stretched, until her shirt was useless. It fell open, revealing her sleek gray torso and jet black brassiere. She tore the rest of the shirt off, then started in on her pants.
“What—what are you doing?” Pan asked, his voice noticeably higher than before. It was the first time she'd ever heard him sound less than 100% confident, and the sound of it was like sweet music to her ears.
“Oh, Pupa. Dear Pupa, you're completely wrong. You do have a weakness, one so glaringly obvious I can't believe it never occurred to me before.” Long, shapely legs revealed themselves as she doffed her trousers, leaving her with only the barest minimum of clothing. She reached behind her back to unfasten the clasps that held her breasts restrained.
“Stop!” Pan cried, and he was definitely nervous now. “Have you gone mad?” The sleek material was removed, revealing her large, curved bosom, and he hastily averted his eyes. “I want no part of your silly adult games!”
“But I've put up with your silly child games all this time,” she purred. “I'm long overdue to take the lead.” Sliding off the very last scrap of cloth that covered her body, she lunged forward. Pan darted quickly away. “What troubles you, Pupa? No witty repartee, no cocksure arrogance, no fight at all? How do you expect to win this battle if you can't see me coming?” The boy suddenly realized that his foe had retained her weapon, because a split second later the flat of the blade cracked him sharply across the back. With a squeal he darted off in a different direction, but he knew she had a point. He was purposely fighting blind now, and that wasn't something he could get away with for a foe as challenging as Hook, no matter how he claimed otherwise.
But... if he looked...
He darted from side to side, the wind carrying him in an erratic zig-zag as he tried to avoid blows that may or may not have been about to fall. Where was she now? She had wisely gone silent, taking full advantage of his cowardly retreat. Sweat began to bead on his brow. Where was she? Was she right behind him, or was she circling ahead to dive out in front of him? Suddenly he was afraid to keep looking ahead, yet he still didn't dare look behind him to check, either. But he couldn't fly blind, not in the forest! Damn it all, how did things get twisted around so quickly?
Just before he could command the wind to fly him up above the tree line, ten deadly claws clamped down on his shoulders. He cried out in pain as they dug in, preventing his escape. “Got you now, Pupa,” Hook whispered in his ear as she pulled hard, then released. The eternal boy slammed into a tree, yelped, and fell to the ground like a bird with a broken wing. He landed with a loud crash and a mighty thud.
He knew that she had come to a landing beside him, knew that she was tying something around his hands and feet, but until he could catch his breath back he knew he was also helpless. He could feel her presence like a burning fire as she walked around him, so hot that he could always tell where she was even with his eyes closed. When at last his lungs began to suck in air again, he shuddered and tugged at his restraints. They held fast, and he turned to look at them, unable to help himself.
Vines, thick and unyielding, held him spreadeagled on the forest floor. He felt like a butterfly trapped in a spider's web, and now the spider was approaching, chuckling deeply in her throat. “What were you saying before? Something about how I would never win, not even once?” The heat of her presence came to a stop above his hips, then crouched down. “This feels an awful lot like a victory to me.”
“What are you going to do to me?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Kill me?”
Pleasure radiated off of her in waves. “Eventually,” she said, leaning over against his body to whisper in his ear. Pan could feel the heaviness of her breasts pressing against his chest, and tensed. “But first, I'm going to break you. I'm going to destroy you. I'm going to do the one thing that will shatter your spirit, once and for all.”
He swallowed. “W-what would that be?”
She nuzzled her lips lower, licking at the crook of his neck. “I'm going to make you grow up. I'm going to strip away your boyhood and force you to become a man. And even as you cry and sob, your body will eagerly betray you.” And with that, she dug her razor teeth deeply into his neck and ground her hips into his.
He bellowed in pain, the whites of his eyes clearly visible as he pulled against his bonds to no avail. A moment later she pulled her teeth out and sat up, watching with a pleased smile as his blood began to flow freely from the bite mark. “My, that looks terrible,” she said with faux concern. “You should get that looked at.” And then she ran her claws down his chest, shredding his clothes and a bit of skin besides. Tearing off his pants, she mercilessly exposed his privates to the open air. With gentle, soothing strokes she began to give him some pleasure to go with the pain. The limp organ twitched under her ministrations, beginning to stiffen and elongate as it filled with blood.
“No,” Pan suddenly whispered, panic filling his voice. “Nononono wait, not that! Please, anything else, don't do this! I—I am the eternal boy! I'll lose all my powers! I'll start aging! Anything, anything, please don't do this!” Tears of fear began to trickle down the corner of his eyes. “I don't want to grow up!”
“It's time to leave Neverland and join the real world, Pupa. Not that I'm going to let you do that, either.” She leaned forward again and he snapped his teeth at her face. She laughed at him. “Look at me, Pupa,” she said cockily, then leaned down just far enough that her dangling breasts touched his clawed up chest. She began to crawl backwards, trailing her nipples over his skin and tracking them through his blood until she reached his groin. The boy lifted his head in spite of himself, watching entranced as she smooshed them over his dick, stroking its sensitive skin with her soft orbs.
“Oh, fuck!” he squeaked, slamming his head back down and cursing himself for looking. His manhood swelled with tingling arousal, flushing an angry purple.
Hook cackled victoriously, straightening up and grabbing his balls with one hand, juggling and massaging the flesh insistently. Pan whimpered and struggled against his bonds again, unable do a thing to stop her and cursing his dick as it began dripping eagerly with pre-cum. Hook moved forward again, straddling his body on her knees as she stroked and held his member at the ready.
“Today, Pupa,” she said in a thick voice drenched with relish, “your defeat is complete!” She plunged her nook over his shaft with a moan of ecstasy, only heightened by his sobbing wail of despair.
“NO!!” he choked, tears pouring from his eyes and soaking his hair. Hook arched her back and hips as she gripped his sides, her claws tearing through his skin over and over as she rode her captive up and down, her breasts swinging with every move. Pan watched them as if he could no longer control his eyes, sobbing as the pain she inflicted could not overwhelm the pleasure he was feeling. He gasped as he began to grow lightheaded, all the blood in his body occupied with either filling his flushed groin or spilling out the gaping wound at his collarbone. He could feel himself loosing coherence as his innocence, and life, left him. All he could feel was the encompassing arousal and agonizing pleasure being wrought by his sworn foe's body as it squeezed and stroked over his. He was no longer even sure if he was saying “Don't! Stop!” or “Don't stop!”
Hook moaned and gasped erotically, her shrieks growing higher in pitch as she neared her climax. Her entire body seemed to flush a faint shade of azure blue as she trembled and sweat. “Ready to become a man, Pupa?” she laughed with joy, taking in his own shaking body and red face. He whimpered, unable to protest anymore. Reaching a hand behind her, she gripped his balls and gave them a good squeeze, watching his face with rapture as she destroyed him.
He went stiff all over, mouth open and head back as he spasmed and pumped inside her, the sensation and the victory finally toppling her over the edge. Leaning over, she tore into the other side of his neck with her teeth as she ejaculated gush after gush of blue fluid across his thighs, legs and stomach, painting his bone bulge and buttocks with her signature. He moaned, eyes rolling back in his head as he bled out, growing weaker and weaker under her dominance.
She pulled her mouth away, teeth and chin dripping with red, and stretched up a little to place a passionate kiss over his lips. John kissed back as best as he could, his blood spilling out across the forest leaves with every beat of his heart. Vriska caressed his hair gently as she held him close, all her fury dissipated. Gog, but that had been amazing, one of her longest-held fantasies come to life.
Now she just needed to wait. John grew cold beneath her, his skin paler and paler until he stopped breathing. The man she loved was dead in her arms, but she was okay with that.
She only needed to wait.
* * *
Vriska had actually started to drift off to sleep when the forest suddenly exploded in light. Instantly alert, she hastily slid off his body and watched, entranced, as his blood began to flicker with hypnotically flashing colors and flow back into his body. The bonds that tied him snapped away and his body floated up into the air, glowing brightly with its own light. Her heart fluttered as she watched his scratches close and evaporate, his torn neck heal itself to perfection. His clothes reappeared, good as new, and his blue eyes stared out from his face, glowing with supernatural power.
Vriska was breathing hard, now. Though what they'd done was amazing, the best was yet to come.
Stepping lightly back onto the ground, John cricked his neck and flexed his fingers, reveling in his renewal and giddy with energy. He looked at her and flashed a roguish grin, eyes trailing up and down her body with hunger. He carefully removed his new clothing, tossing it aside until he was as naked as she was.
And then he pounced.
For a little while after each of John's resurrections, they had discovered, he was unusually full of life, even for him. He was strong, stronger than your average troll and certainly stronger than her. He was bubbling over with love and joy, not that that was unusual. And his libido was off the charts. All of them.
They fell to the ground, kissing savagely. John pinned her hands above her head easily, not that she was even trying to resist, while his weight pressed down against her. It wasn't something she would ever tell anyone else, but, more than a lover who could take all her abuse, she enjoyed having a lover who could overwhelm her right back. Now that her stress had been relieved, she wanted to be comforted, to be cared for, to be sheltered by the only person she trusted enough to surrender to.
She wanted to be adored. And ravished.
John abandoned his grip on her hands and she left them there, obediently. He began kissing down her neck, across her collarbone and up her sternum, grabbing her breasts in both hands and kneading the globular flesh. She began to moan already, opening her legs in eagerness.
“Gog, you're so beautiful like this, Vriska, you have no idea,” John murmured, kissing further down her stomach and teasingly close to her groin. “The others have no idea what a treasure you are, what they gave up. I'll never share you with anyone! You're mine and mine alone.” She trembled at his words, then gasped as he slipped a tongue inside her nook.
He stroked insistently at her, inside and out, already knowing where she was most sensitive. She began to pant loudly, eyelids fluttering, her orange sclera all that was visible as her eyes rolled up with pleasure. “Please, John,” she gasped, unashamed to beg, not with him. “Please, make me yours.”
“You're always mine,” he purred, peering up at her from under his dark eyelashes.
“You know what I mean,” she choked as he made a particularly effective swipe with his tongue. “Gog, fill me up, please!”
He grinned and crawled back up her body, licking his lips and settling down on top of her. She spread her legs wider as she felt his erection press against her nook and slowly invade her, squeezing it tight as she stretched around him. Now it was his turn to breath more heavily, gasping with euphoria as he slid in to the hilt. There was no feeling in the world quite like being sheathed inside a gorgeous, enthusiastically willing woman.
He pulled out, every vein and bump on his human bulge rubbing against her insides and the sensitive membranes skirting the rim of her nook, then slammed back in again, as deeply as he could. She cried out with gusto, breasts jiggling with the force that shook her body. He pulled back and repeated the motion, over and over, never tiring as he rammed into her, pleasuring them both. Her orgasm came upon her suddenly, without warning, and she clamped down around him with a cry that was music to his ears. She had no more genetic material to give today, but that wasn't necessary for her to feel the torrent of heat and sensation that was engulfing her body.
She felt John's member throb inside her and knew he was enjoying it too, but he didn't stop. The first time after a resurrection, he didn't need to recover at all. He continued to rub in and out of her, and she continued to clench against him in unceasing orgasm. She bucked and thrashed as she shrieked out her delight, but he merely pinned her arms again, leaned down, and bit into her neck in the same place she had done to him. He didn't have the teeth to hurt her, and he wasn't trying either, but she would be wearing his mark in the morning all the same.
He came again, filling her up even more with his whitish genetic material. It squelched and squirted out of her as he pounded her into the forest floor, splattering across her thighs and oozing down onto the leaves that blanketed the forest. At last he stopped and allowed her a break, both of them gasping hard for air and trembling with exertion.
The second time after a resurrection, John recovered faster than she did. He picked her up off the ground and set her on his lap, still pegged upon him, and began to languidly lick over her nipples. She draped her arms over his shoulders and let her head fall back, her breath slowing as she simply enjoyed the sensation. He ran his hands up and down her back, soothing the soreness from the hard ground and reveling in the feel of her bare skin, the gentle touch of insect wings. She could feel his flesh bulge already rearing its head with interest inside her, but for now she merely basked in the attention as he gripped her ass with both hands and squeezed, pulling her closer against him.
Eventually, though, his nibbling teeth and flicking tongue began to produce an electric reaction in her groin. Her breathing began to increase again as he rocked her up and down, sparing one hand to help tweak her other nipple. He began to pant and buck his hips as she lifted herself up and fell on him, hoarse moans escaping her throat. More cum oozed out of her and dribbled down his balls, making him gasp and whine. He lost focus on her breasts and moved both hands to her ass again, directing her motions until she was slamming down on him, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises as he parted and squeezed her cheeks. His desperation was contagious, and this time the heat crept up on her slowly enough to savor it, forcing her to swallow hard before her watering mouth could start drooling. She tightened around him and it drove him over the edge, once more ejecting his slimy fluids inside her, more than she could hold.
They held each other like that for a while, heads on each other's shoulders and breathing more softly as the minutes passed. They were sticky with sweat and the evidence of sex, but they wouldn't have it any other way. Eventually John laid her down and draped himself over her again, nuzzling into her hair and stroking her long, polished horns.
The third time after a resurrection, the last sprint of his unnatural endurance, he always recovered at the same time she did. Lifting his head from where he'd been resting it, John leaned down and kissed her gently, tenderly, while his hips began to rock slowly against her. She ran her hands across his back over and over, without a hint of claws, as she kissed back, heads tilting and tongues slipping across their boundaries to caress each other. John's dick wasn't pulling out very far with each pass, but it was rubbing in just the right spot, and so slowly that she could feel her orgasm coming from a mile away. It built up gradually, first a flushing heat that warmed her body, then a shortness of breath, then an agonizing sensitivity as her membranes grew swollen and hot. Vriska arched into him, head falling back and panting desperately as she hovered on the razor's edge of release. John knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving her insane with desire.
“Oh!” she panted over and over, incapable of anything less inane. Her lover smiled sweetly and continued to hold his pace, e-v-e-r s-o s-l-o-w-l-y dragging his member back and forth across her sweet spots, pressing firmly and deeply within her. Her entire body was flushing azure at this point, every nerve on edge. Her eyes glazed as she gasped shallowly, whimpering every now and then as the fire burned her alive.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.
She arched her back and clenched hard around him, her orgasm ripping through her like a wind storm. She cried and trembled under the force, and John choked at the vice-like pressure that gripped his swollen dick. The slow pace was just as agonizing for him, and just as much of an overwhelming relief and pleasure to finally be released from. He filled her up as he kissed her hungrily, thankful a hundred times over for the love of this woman. They clutched each other tightly, riding out their union to the very last drop, the very last, agonizingly wonderful twitch.
The sounds of forest life finally resumed, or perhaps merely were finally able to reach their ears. John rolled over and pulled Vriska on top of him, uncaring of the cold mess that now gushed over his thighs and groin. She nestled down against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, and before long they were both asleep.
When night came, they would fly back home under the cover of darkness, clean up, and curl back up together on a softer surface.
But for now they were exhausted, peacefully content, and full of life.