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@dogboy*

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open season.

OPEN SEASON

@dogboy
24 / m / straight / 2♠️*

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

His name is Kirma and he’s illiterate. I’m helping him fill this out, but honestly speaking, it’s a complete waste. Besides that, don’t you think his rank is unfairly high? Even though it’s still in the single digits, it’s not as if he wouldn’t be at home in the basement levels. If someone could send my complaints along to the house, I’d appreciate it.

My Future Plans

Surviving?

My Talents

Chasing sticks. Eating absurd quantities of garbage. Fouling up perfectly nice beds. Trampling flowers.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Meat.

My Ideal Partner

Someone skilled at training dogs.

Height 169cm / ~5’7 Body Type fine Smokes apparently Drinks i think so Drugs maybe Sign ? Education laughable Occupation unemployed Income unpaid Children none? Pets he is one Hobbies cooking

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

“WHAT'S A MIME”

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

NEITHER

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE

.05 TITS OR ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISFP-A

ENERGY73%
introverted
MIND76%
observant
NATURE66%
feeling
TACTICS54%
prospecting
IDENTITY75%
assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

( not the brand reveal?

unfortunately for all involved parties, aventurine's eyes are always as observant as they come - it comes with survival, and doing business, learning about the environment and the people. they catch a hint of something that rids his face of his usual smile, and they linger there, on the back of kirma's neck.

maybe their similarities go further than just the way they should be treated, or think they should be. aventurine rests a hand on the small of kirma's back, and looks away. )

Hmmm, you did? I don't remember. ( he does, because mid ass smut followed that :/ ) Should I stop doing it, then?

( being a charming beautiful blond boyfriend ig )

( … right. there’s rules to these things, aren’t there. a quick glance at the dealer and their withering glare sort of answers the question on its own, but that isn’t the point— it’s the second part of his question that he wanted the answer to, and esi’s reluctance said enough there, too. fine. he signals to the dealer that he wants to double down, then, and as the increase to his wager— he tosses that all-too-familiar book down on the table. though the other patrons are dubious as to its value, there’s something inherent to it being an item not of the casino, and that’s enough to dispel any argument against it.

the part that kirma didn’t account for was the dealer passing him a 4. here is where things start to go wrong. kirma’s failing at the card tables isn’t his luck, but his inability to hide it; at seeing the number (or more accurately, counting the symbols on the card), his ears and tail both shoot up straight, eyes wide. clearly, it’s either very good, or very bad. no in-between. )

Ah—

( the look he shoots back towards esi is assuredly a guilty one, from the way his ears sink back down. uh oh! )

( not how my sleepy ass was trying to remember if i referenced a fashion brand in the last tag fsr

the small shift in aventurine’s expression doesn’t escape kirma’s notice. the blind eye he turns to things is a willful one, after all— and if people think lesser of him for it, all the better. but today, there’s something uncomfortable that’s difficult to ignore, even if the hand at his back is something resembling a reassurance. )

I didn’t say that.

( even if having a bbb isn’t all it’s chalked up to be, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want one …

more seriously; he forces himself to keep his gaze steady rather than looking away as well, as if absolutely nothing had happened. as long as they’re not talking about it, it may as well be the truth. )

Maybe I’ll get used to it. ( haha. )

( for all intended purposes, it is a captivating show to watch. aventurine sits back, awkward and uncomfortable, but none of it matters in light of said predatory gaze consuming every inch of kirma. he hadn't had the chance before, after all, on their mid ass first time that seems so far into the past now. aventurine might just prefer it this way, unsure whether it's his real feelings, the play-pretend ones, or something corrupted by the fervent instincts inside of him.

he wants to eat kirma, but not in the way that his family had been eaten. it feels more intimate, the tingling desire at the back of his throat, the way aventurine clenches his jaw and gives kirma his undivided attention, the slow movements of his fingers, the hallucination that it could be him, instead, his fingers then himself and kirma would be stripped bare and covered in marks and bleeding and begging—

at some point, aventurine had taken ahold of one of his legs, lifted it onto his shoulder, sinking his nails onto his calf. it would disrupt the flow of such cute little show, yes, but could aventurine really keep watching without doing anything?

he turns his head towards the leg, and bites down right on top of the nail marks, hard, and tastes blood on his lips. face flushed as it is, not once had aventurine turned his gaze elsewhere. )

Such a handsome dog that you are, ( man, he had meant, but the word escapes his lips unnoticed. with his own tail wagging behind him, aventurine laps at the biting mark, resists the temptation of sinking his teeth down again, deep, deeper, ripping skin and flesh and muscle and wondering, for a moment, how he would taste— ) Had I known you look this good under me, I wouldn't have let you be on top that other time.

( as he sets kirma's leg down, aventurine reaches for his hips, brings him closer to him with a tight grip, the shape of his own erection through his pants awkward against him, but what matters the most is the friction, which he purrs in response. )

A shame you're not a cute bunny. I would have had so much fun making you mine. ( and here, aventurine feigns a sudden realization, ) Do you think if I fuck you enough I can turn you into one?

( it’s an obvious hint, trying to protect her concoction from view; one that kirma promptly disregards, leaning around to try and get a better angle through her arms. her concerns about proprietary secrets and the keeping thereof are little in the face of plain curiosity, though one way or another, he really can’t see himself following in these particular footsteps. )

So you’ve never done this before?

( prototype, right… that’s what that means? ah, it’s not liable to explode in her face, is it? that thought gets him to stand up straight, perhaps a little too quickly. you just never know, when it comes to magical folks and their experiments. )

… Please don’t blow up my kitchen. ( at least not for lotion, of all things. )

( whatever feels he might have about the finality of the severance are overridden by their bodies clashing; all his groans of agony are directed into and swallowed up by esi’s mouth, and there’s hardly a point in keeping his eyes open when he can barely see anything through the stinging tears brought forth by the pain. he’s dimly aware of esi’s attempts to stimulate him, and it’s not an effort totally gone to waste, even if part of him thinks: right now?

but there’s a bigger, more worrying part of him that thinks: it’s nice, though. there’s an intimacy, it seems, to having your hand sawed off. his tongue seeks out esi’s, and his hips lift to meet the pressure coming down on them, and while the force of his hand over the stump of his wrist is likely enough to leave bruises, in contrast to the rest of the wound feels like, it may as well be a lover’s gentle caress.

his free hand— only hand— rakes through esi’s hair, clinging, as if he might suddenly change his mind and pull away. it wouldn’t— it wouldn’t be the first time, he realizes, and that’s where the fear comes from. leaving him to die, or worse— )

Don’t go, ( slips out in a whisper, somewhere in the frenzy of their kissing. the plea of a cut far deeper than anything esi could manage with a knife. you can do anything you want to me— as long as you don’t go. )

( maybe he will. hopefully not. it would be easier if kirma is always caught off guard by his charms, handsomeness and all. easier to be certain he won't get bored, or see through that charming smile to find out that aventurine is pitifully broken and all ugly on the inside. until the day comes, and they part ways, never to meet again. easier for both of them.

for now, despite all of aventurine's confidence and bravado, he needs kirma more than kirma needs him. maybe one day he will realize it, and all of his luck would backfire. maybe it's what he deserves.

his eyes turn back to kirma, and suddenly that gaze burns too hot to be comfortable. aventurine smiles still, the same smile he always does. )

Then should I do it sparingly, so you're caught off guard when you least expect it?

Don't be ridiculous. I've done this before, but I've never had to cobble together the ingredients like some Doctor Frankenstein illicitly robbing graves.

[Really, how the hell is a girl supposed to be satisfied with her own work when the resort itself doesn't let you work!? Especially since she's an 8. Just high enough to get special treatment, but not high enough to have a goddamn kitchenette. She feels snubbed. Slighted. As if the House itself had perfectly placed her in such a position to watch her squirm between creature comforts and boredom.

When all the ingredients are properly mixed together in the desirable ratios, she turns the heat down. Slowly cooling the mixture. Eventually she'll turn off the burner entirely and pour the contents of the pot in a little gift jar she found empty and swiped. No one was using it anymore! The gift had been used up! It's fine. She's like a little hoarding corvid grabbing at anything she thinks could be of use and stashing it in her nest (room).]

It'll need time to solidify. Want me to fold you now?

( if he has any idea about the real thoughts lurking behind that smile, has any idea how many of them mirror his own— there’s no indication of it. instead, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft huff. when he opens them again, he’s looking up and to the side, rolling them, almost. disbelief at the idea that such a thing could be possible, perhaps; the gesture is a touch too modern for him to get entirely right. )

If we really are trapped here forever, then I suppose you should.

( gotta draw out the novelty for as long as it lasts, right. but the thought makes his gaze drop, makes the arm around aventurine’s waist lose some of its tension. )

In the meantime— ( not dwelling. there will be time enough for that, too. ) Maybe you could tell me about a few things.

( it’s time: he’s opting into hsr lore. tell him about space werewolves except we don’t actually need to copy wikipages here because i’m not going to do to you what you did to joy :// )

( The journal being tossed onto the table like that has Esikko nearly popping a blood vessel. He tenses, his cards bending slightly in his hold before he shifts to his right hand, beneath the table, now gripping so tightly at Kirma's thigh that he threatens to rip something right off. )

Why. Is that there.

( Betting it? BETTING IT? What's that expression? Is it good? Is it bad? If it's good, why is he looking like that, when everyone's going to know!! He's going to kill this dog any second now. )

( ow? the grip is hard enough to make him wince; he had no idea esi's hands could have so much strength. maybe the, uh, previous incident empowered them some? either way: )

... You wouldn't turn around.

( therefore, it's esi's fault. obviously. the none-too-subtle reactions between the two of them at least get a little more interest from their tablemates, and one goes bust in his ambition to claim— whatever this is. still unclear! )

Just— play your hand.

( sweaty plinky wolf goes here. )

( There are flashes of his own memories in the intensity of this moment, though he doesn't recognize them as such. Blood, the warmth of it over his own skin, the look in Kirma's eyes— they're all flashes, sprouting quickly between the rush of adrenaline and arousal pushing him forward now. Each kiss, more passionate and yet more one-sided than the last due to Kirma's growing exhaustion, seems to bring its own flash of feeling. Feelings he doesn't fully recognize.

Feelings that feel layered over themselves, again and again, always stabbing directly through his own heart. The heart-shaped mark on his shoulder aches with it, this time, but he doesn't even register. Right now, he's busy with frenzied kisses at Kirma's lips, open mouthed and littered with heavy gasps. It seems like only moments before his hand, slick with blood, is not just stroking at Kirma's arousal, but his own. He presses their cocks together, sloppy, slipping strokes bringing him closer and closer to a peak. )

Kirma.

( He doesn't usually speak anyone's name like that, but it feels right to have it slip out like that. Half a whisper, half a groan, he drags his tongue along the corner of Kirma's mouth where some blood has splattered. He's not leaving. Not here, not now. )

( Esikko gives him a long, hard stare before he releases that grip, returning his attention to the table. Ignoring the stares and the actions of others, he plays his pathetic hand. He's not winning this.

So Kirma better. )

( as always, he's in luck. sort of. nobody else at the table can beat a soft 21; as he flips his cards to a chorus of groans and curses, the dealer has already fixed him with a suspicious stare, perhaps recognizing him from a previous visit. hurriedly, kirma picks the book back up— his prize, after all— and tugs on esi's sleeve as a sign of, let's get out of here. the rest of the chips lay abandoned, which might help to smooth things over some, if ever he returns.

once they're away from the tables, kirma again gives esi that guilty sidelong glance, and holds the journal out to him. his tail moves, just a little, today in a gesture of appeasement rather than excitement. god i really need a wolfpleady icon. )

I was hoping you'd win it.

( but it's okay because he still got it back, right??? )

... I did get it for you.

( so you can't be too mad, right???????? )

Win?

( By the time Esikko speaks again, they're already out of the Roost, and his steps are quick. Reaching over, he aims to snatch the journal right back, desperate to flip through it— but in private. Kirma's room. )

I'm terrible at these stupid games, which is why I've been trying to practice. And what if you hadn't had your luck for one turn? Do you think it's cute to throw something this valuable across the table in a bet?

( Scold scold scold...

But. After a moment, and a particularly rough sigh, he lowers his voice. )

...How did you get this?

( well— yes? it was a little cute, even if esi doesn't want to admit it. kirma huffs slightly at the insinuation that it was anything but. there's a clearly unfair dichotomy forming: if he's too serious, he's told to lighten up, and if he tries to have a little fun, he gets yelled at... )

It was a prize. ( ... ) I did ask for it specifically.

( anything (small) in the world— no, the multiverse— and he still thought of esi first. where is his prize for being such a good dog. he's tempted to snatch it back, just to be petty. )

Next time, I'll let you get what you want yourself. ( harf )

( He... asked for it?

Esikko does slow his steps a little at that news, but his lips curve more into a strained frown. There's silence, too, for a handful of steps forward as he presses his fingertips to the cover of the journal, being sure that it feels the same as he remembers. )

You asked for it? ...Why?

( He can't help the suspicious tone that comes with it, his eyebrows furrowing at the journal. He doesn't know how to look at Kirma just yet, still puzzling this out. )

( what kind of a question... kirma doesn't realize esi has slowed until he pulls ahead, at which point he stops and turns to look back at him. his head tilts, in a lack of understanding. )

Thought you would've wanted it.

( and up until this point, esi's reactions had hardly indicated otherwise. was he really mistaken? why does he sound like that? )

Should I not have?

...No, it's not that. I've been missing this dearly.

( He breathes slowly, then pulls the journal against his chest, arms crossed over it. Finally, the prince looks towards Kirma, his thoughtful frown still in place. )

Thank you. ( ... ) But what is it that you want in exchange?

( boy are you stupid? )

I don't want anything.

( it's frustrating, how much people keep asking him this. the assumption that everything has a catch— though he understands the sentiment, especially in this place, esi of all people should know better. how much has he already done for him without a single thing in return?

is it just that at the end of the day, their lives are too distant to ever stand in the same place together? )

Let's go back, already. ( he can't sulk properly about this in the hallways. )

( At first, Esikko is silent, nodding and moving so that they can head towards Kirma's suite. The elevators, then the hallway...

At some point during this, he speaks up again in a quiet, thoughtful voice. At least the frown is gone from his face now. )

There's really nothing you could think of asking for for yourself?

( he already struggles enough with unlocking the door, so of course esi has to ask then, interrupting the concentration he needs to get them in the suite. the look he shoots him is a dark one, at first— )

No.

( — yet his voice is softer than usual, when he responds. his gaze falls to the doorknob; it isn't an entirely truthful response, either. most of the few things he had to his name couldn't hold a candle to the replacements he can buy purely on a whim, here. there's one thing that's irreplaceable, maybe, but... )

Even if there was. It wouldn't have changed my choice.

( he isn't your bodyguard because he wanted to be, remember. )

( He... doesn't understand.

Esikko's expression is difficult to read right now, but that's because he doesn't know what he's feeling. It's both pleasant and not, uncomfortable and not. When the door is finally open, he presses through as normal, but his fingertips are fidgeting with the edges of the pages on his journal. )

Do you value yourself so little?

( i'll take things you shouldn't just ask people for 500, alex. )

What does it matter, one way or another?

( his words come out in a terse beat, and the door gets shut with a little too much force. how do you even answer that— yes, of course, would you prefer i jump higher or lower? this was supposed to be a happy occasion, not one for digging into uncomfortable truths.

there's too much esi still doesn't know, and he'd prefer to keep it that way. even if there are— things— he remembers, who's to say those are anything more than hallucinations granted by the powers that control this place— their relationship was only meant to be transactional, from the very beginning. and if esi can't even take a gift in good faith—

maybe that's all it should be. )

If you're going to be up all night reading that thing, at least keep the lights low.

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cw for cannibalism and gore :(

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