Foreigner's God [Goliath] [Mature]

[Deleted]

If you could only see the beast you've made of me

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

A fatal silence followed Datura as she paced through the area, ensnared somewhere between heaven and hell, in a Paradise of their own device. She did not call for him. He would come. She had chosen the place intentionally, knowing that the swamp was not the most popular hangout on the island. There was an ominous feeling there, but Datura did not seem bothered. Ina’mos was the place of her alpha’s origins, the realm of his father before him. Soon, it would become the home of his sons, as well. The hints were left around for Goliath to find, this tree and that one marked, leading to the diminutive female he had claimed first, before the others even knew the legend was true.

There was no hint of moonlight as the new moon cast the landscape in total darkness, save for the countless stars that Datura ignored overhead. The wintry night was growing colder, but the hottest fire burned at Datura from the inside out. The change in her scent was subtle to her own gender, but she knew intuitively, by some ingrained urge and the desire swelling in her, that he could come to her soon. Xena would be lurking just close enough to stave off another intruders or voyeurs, her disinterest in males and the breeding season a valuable asset to Datura as she waited for her alpha to find her there.

The female had reined in her longing for too long now, craving the very thing that could destroy her, would leave her wrecked, but renewed. He would give his faithful follower a new life. And she would crucify herself for a new generation of savagery that she intended to produce. It was the final stage of her overwhelming convictions, to affirm her value – to him, and to Kairos. Her devotion would be rewarded, finally. She waited, just as he had asked, lust barely concealed in the way she carried her tail high, ardor smashing inside of her like the ocean waves that had delivered her to Anikira and to Goliath.

Tonight was the night. Pausing mid-stride, twin ears trimmed with auburn pricked forward, but still, she was met with dead silence. There were no birds, not even the types who hunted in the darkness, no sounds, only the soft padding of Datura’s dainty mitts. She was growing tired of waiting for him and of trying to ignore her own heat.

Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart

drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart

Lust was still a new concept for Datura. She was old enough by now to have birthed a litter or two. To feel the wildfire within was all-consuming, a need she had never endured before. Instinct overpowered all other senses, leaving her aroused, ready for his approval. It was enough to drive a wolf to madness.

She believed in her alpha. She believed in Kairos with fervor more intense than any feeling she had experienced before, in the miserable life she led previous to Goliath. The old life seemed far away now. All the quashed emotions that had bubbled beneath the surface, a lifetime of repression, left her smoldering and hungry for what was to come. She would follow him across Anikira for her remaining days if it meant her place within the pack would be secure, at least until her womb turned barren, but she was a young wolf with many seasons still left in her, if her body would permit the punishment.

She would be his temple, and he would make her whole. Even if it killed her – and she knew there was a risk, given the enormity of her alpha – if she left just one pup behind, she would breed a legacy that would flourish long after she was no more than carrion, her body left to the scavengers. Her own genes, mixed with those of a lesser male, would undoubtedly produce an embarrassment, but with Goliath – with Datura’s shrewd judgment and ambitious ideals, and the blessings of their sire’s enormity and power – her purpose would be achieved.

Still vexed by his lingering absence, her lip curled back in a snarl, growling to herself as she paced impatiently, thoughts consumed by her would-be lover. When his scent finally found her flaring nostrils, the she-wolf had grown agitated, ears falling flat against her skull. Her heart thumped, strong and swiftly, beneath her ribs, the blood in her veins feverishly warm. She would not accept his repudiation again.

It had to be tonight.

words: 803
tag: @zenith
ooc: mating thread!
consider yourselves warned.

[Deleted]

She moved with shameless wonder

The perfect creature rarely seen

Since some liar brought the thunder

When the land was godless and free

The alpha’s hairs stood on end, his nape quivering at the raw invitation in the air. The riling scent brought a fire to his throat, and the burning desire charred his core until it became nothing but a blackened husk of want.

Now. He wanted her now.

The colossal beast hung his head to scent the moistened ground, lips peeling back to stave the primal thirst that threatened to spill over his teeth. Saliva welled upon his tongue as the intangible ache grew into something vastly more tangible, every pump of his devout heart engorging the part of him that longed for her. The urgency in his pace trembled the ground, casting aside anything that stood between himself and his prize; his thunderous gait was an unrelenting war cry, announcing his oncoming like carillons from the deep underground. Nothing could have stopped his conviction, no force great or divine could have quelled him, for he was lost to the instinct of his lust – imprisoned by it.

Her pheromones were so pungent that his nasals burnt with a fever both scalding and chilling, teeth locked in an aggravated scowl at the distance still remaining. The swamp was an impenetrable labyrinth of vines and roots, the scant moon offering barely more than a glassy tear of light, hanging unfallen in the sky. But the beast did not need light to navigate his way – he needed only his breath to drive him on, Datura’s scent so hot on his lips that he knew he would be upon her at any moment.

He felt her warmth before he caught sight of her, no light shared between them as he barrelled against her petite frame, a leonine muzzle running downward along her spine as his only offering of warning. He forced her tail aside with a rough push of his snout, teeth bared at the crude delight she brought him, before his tongue found the source of her musk and conquered its depth with a harsh but provocatively shallow invasion. No tender words were offered, no soft croons or promises to pacify the ordeal that was to come, though if she expected such sweet nothings from him, her mind was more fractured than his own.

His need was ageless and ancient – but it couldn’t have been simpler, nor more complex, if he had wanted it to be. No thought entered his mind as he withdrew his tongue, maddened by her inebriating taste, and moved himself over her so easily, her diminutive form sheltered beneath him as though she had been crafted for this explicit purpose, by the very god that forged his own existence. So small and dainty beneath him as he mounted her, there was no chance she could escape from him now, and too driven by his own pounding greed, there was no acknowledgement from him that she might have wanted this more than he did. His neck arched down to envelop her entirety beneath him, his lungs heaving with ragged inhalations as the anticipation scored his restraint.

“Let me hear you,” he demanded coarsely, the fiery breath caressing against her cheek, his deep voice strained as his impatience broke free from its beastly chains.

He entered her torturously slow, his recklessness quickly abandoned as the limitation of his godly size made it’s true difficulty known. Her pain would be unending, but the reward at it’s pinnacle prevented his steady force from yielding for pity. Onward, he raided her, deeper until there was no more depth to be plundered from her frail body. The thunderous beating against her back offered no respite as his throat voiced the mounting pleasure in a guttural, gratified hymn, an ode to their unification. Even if the torment of his love split her asunder, then so be it - she would bleed for him.

His movements were steady, regaining control as her body acclimatised to his size. His rage and urgency ceased to be – his father’s lunacy a figment long forgotten, if only for the remaining time he spent inside of her. For the first time in his life, he felt sane, too rapt in his darkest instincts to allow his mind to twist and contort back into its natural deformity. Wrath and cruelty were eroded by the sinful pleasure that she offered; her body was a sanctuary all of his own, a clean slate for him to tarnish in his own way, absent the guilt and treachery that had paved every step of his life thus far.

And with every sordid thrust came the sweet sickness of knowing, of all of the Gods hiding in the sky unseen, it was Fenrir most of all who knew nothing of the pleasure that he himself had claimed tonight. The accursed and almighty Fenrir was no more than a manifestation at his most glorious of moments – he was not a beast of the flesh, and would forever stay a virgin to the debauchery and indulgence offered here, in the mud amongst the feeble mortals. Belial had been wrong to hate the world so vehemently, loving a God who proved too weak and unaccountable to rein in the beasts he had unleashed.

Fenrir was nothing compared to him – and tonight, it was Goliath’s turn to immortalise himself in the womb of his depraved beloved.

Her eyes look sharp and steady

Into the empty parts of me

But still my heart is heavy

With the hate of some other man's beliefs

TAGGED: @datura

[Deleted]

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground

He appeared as suddenly as a ghost in the night, musky scent emanating from the alpha’s pelt, greeting her ebony nostrils like a promise. By the incessant darkness of the late hour, his white fur seemed to glow, but the black markings seemed impossibly dark. The sight of the rushing brute, so terrifying to those who dared to defy him, caused her heart to leap, made her muscles tense beneath her mottled coat. She would not run away. She would take him inside, finally, see what she had been missing from the one male she would accept within her. Every sense was heightened, screaming with anticipation, their scents tangled together in the air expectantly.

Her wait for her master was short-lived that night – she had waited too long for the day that she was claimed by her alpha, her Goliath, to finally show him that she was valuable to his cause. No matter what new bitch came into the picture, she would stand apart from the others. Not just tonight, but for the rest of her life and beyond her mortal span, with each awe-inspiring, deranged offspring their impending unity would create. His muzzle touched her back, moving from neck to tail, with no semblance of tenderness. She had not expected him to be gentle, anyway – she was small, but she was not so breakable.

Somewhere between panic and pleasure, affection and punishment, she nearly jumped when Goliath’s tongue found the sensitive place no one had ever claimed before. Her tail was cast aside without invitation or caution, and her body quivered with brazen eagerness. He mounted her, taking little effort to find his rightful place above her. The she-wolf could feel his heart thumping heavy within his ribs, so close now, and his hot breath against her cheek brought an inadvertent whine – divinity incarnate, and she was his.

Let me hear you. His gruff voice was like thunder in her ears.

Twin chestnut orbs widened as the shock of his girth became apparent within her. It hurt – she knew it would hurt, but not like this. The torment radiating from her femininity was more than she could put into words, expressed instead with a sharp yelp, squirming beneath him in the primitive dance of their ancestors. It took all of her energy to remain standing. He could crush her, his sheer weight alone enough to bring Datura to her knees, but she held firm to savor his torturous warmth.

She was not there for her benefit any longer. It was all for him – the pain she endured as he claimed her from the inside, taking any lingering semblance of innocent left in the Mexican wolf. She did it for her alpha, for the pleasure he gained as drops of scarlet blood painted the earth below her ravished form. Even if it killed her, she would be redeemed by her savior’s savage attachment, given new life beyond her own capabilities. With every agonizing thrust, it felt as if she was being torn apart, but she did not shrink away from his aggressive yearning. Sacrifice was not meant to be easy, nor painless.

Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack
My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out

The pain began to subside, slowly, replaced instead by an ache she had never experienced before – a different kind of pain, more urgent than the suffering she had endured only moments before as he slipped inside of her. Unconsciously, a shuddering groan parted her lips, cream-colored muzzled tipped back and eyes opened wide. She could see him there, with her neck craned backward and body jerking with each of the male’s thrust. A shameless cry punctuated the quiet of the night, loud – she could not suppress her arduous worship if she tried.

The past was far away, and the future was wide open, with every plunge of muscle and every grunt the male uttered. Even if others came after – and certainly, there would be others – Datura relished the fact that she was the first, and no other male had ever touched her before. She did not beg, for she was more than a hungry brute’s whore, more than a vessel for the greatness she would conceive that night. She would be the mother of kings.

Every great king needed an heir, a son to carry on in his place, to carry on the legacy of his forefathers. Datura intended to give him the best, better than any other female could produce. But tonight, if only for tonight, there were no other bitches nearby to steal away his attention. There was no one else beyond them that night, no one else existed, if only for one long night. Two lupine bodies feverish with desire as instinct seized them, the femme’s pulse raced and her body throbbed. Datura could feel the excitement rising in her blood, a consuming inferno in the wintry twilight.

And with every rapturous groan that she uttered, the world beyond them seemed further way. Nothing else seemed to matter. Surrounded by Goliath, he was the world around her. Her alpha was life itself. No one could take that away from Datura.

”Everything… Yours.” She gasped aloud, haggard breath escaping her lungs in sharp gasps, tongue fumbling over the words as the frenzy inside of her threatened to consume her senses. She belonged to him – the land, the wolves that lived there, everything belonged to her alpha. ”You will be proud,” she promised between shallow exhales. Speech failed her as the intensity heightened. Body, mind, and soul, she was his now. She accepted the future waiting for her. The changing sensations in her core burned with a new thrill, and a fervent cry escaped her maw. There had to be a reason so many of her kind gave in to their heat, and she would understand this carnal need before the sun reclaimed the darkness around them.

You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl

words: 1118
tag: @zenith

[Deleted]

Wondering who I'll copy
Muster in some tender charm
She feels no control of her body
She feels no safety in my arms

Goliath could feel the very moment that the dainty femme softened beneath him, the sinfully tight sheath distending as pain gave way for mere pinches of pleasure, unfolding just for her King. Each thrust earned him deeper sanctuary in her warmth, and every servile cry goaded him closer to his pinnacle. He drove into the farthest depths of her, seeking entrance to a temple most devout and untouched, the darkest part of her yet to be broken. He penetrated far more than her mere flesh; he breached past the point of no return, rupturing the shrine of her virginity and tearing it into an oblivion of pieces, the shards alight from the friction of his merciless love.

Everything…yours.

Her throaty promise was a sound that nearly sent him from the apex of his pleasure, but with a demonising groan, he restrained himself, focusing on the exquisite words that followed.

You will be proud.

She had no choice but to make such an ambitious claim, for if there was no glory conceived at this moment, she held no worth to him. Her contemptible womb would be unworthy of his seed, and a disgrace to Kairos – she would be nothing, when he had hoped she would be everything. The future of Kairos teetered upon a treacherous crux, and the fulcrum was at fate’s mercy.

A low breath seethed from his clenched teeth, the gritty hiss resounding as an announcement of his impending climax. The alpha’s pace became violent, wild, his perseverance rendered furious from the wait that every day until now had deferred him from true purpose. His rear legs were a grisly sight indeed, awash with red from her grotesquely battered hindquarters, but the gore and unadulterated gratification of her pained gasps brought his pleasure to peak. He uttered no sound as the rigidity jolted his bones, with no remaining space in his lungs to howl in triumph. His knot tied her to him, the agonising coil magnifying his release with naught but a chilling respire. His love for her hung on a slim thread as he emptied himself into her abyss – his hope, his anguish, and his heinous devotion for everything she had vowed.

The deed was done, for now – but his desire was rampant, and the taste of her heat had him wanting more. When his blood had cooled and his arousal was once again rife, he would take her. Again, she would be his, and again after that, to be sure her womb was saturated with the lifeblood of kings. The night would be long and excruciating, that much was promised – but what fruits would be sown, whether treacherous or glorious, were still unknown glimpses into an indefinite future.

I've no language left to say it
All I do is crave to her
Breaking if I try to convey it
The broken love I make to her

TAGGED: @datura