❝ Back When The World Was Whole, We Had Family, Friends, Loves… Men Knew Peace

NSFW PWP (Porn With Plot) Commission

Reaper Zenos & His (WoL-shaped) Avatar

Named WoL: Guinevere Talon. Hyur Female WoL.

Guinevere belongs to @windup-gwen

Beware: Monster Fucking Ahead

NSFW Warnings: Monster Fucking. Big Monster WoL-shaped Avatar: (feral behavior, size increasing. Claws, fangs, Venom-esque tongue), Tentacles and all the weirdness that entails, Zenos bottoming. Anal sex, multiple analysis penetration. Oral sex, blow jobs, cunninlingus. Obsession, roughness. Biting, clawing, blood drinking, aggressive licking. Purposeful Pretend/Role Playing, Delusion that the avatar is WoL. Face sitting, smothering. Choking, Asphyxiation. Femdom vibes. Character (Zenos) getting off on the idea of being murdered while having sex. No actual character death. 

....

...

..

Soon. 

Soon they would be reunited. 

"Guinevere," the prince of Garlemald purred out into the quiet, rolling it around in his mouth and savoring her name on his tongue like the first blood the very first time she had hit him hard enough to make him bleed. Of course he knew her name. He had dug into her past with nigh unquenchable thirst for knowledge, devouring every bit of knowledge, every tidbit no matter how small, absolutely everything he could know of her. She was his obsession. His one and only friend, his beloved enemy. The one pleasure left to him in this empty, ephemeral world.

He brings her image to his mind's eye, leaning his head back against the throne he sat, humming low and rumbly in his throat.

Ohh, the rage that he had seen in those eyes, liken to rich, deep amethyst. That hue so vibrant and electrifying as if she held the levin of Ramuh within her gaze, ready to strike him down in a moment's notice. The white of her hair, last he remembered in that Gyr Abanian plait, had been a perfect blank canvas for the splash of blood. How fierce she had looked with her light brown skin painted in the harsh red and orange of the setting sun, so heart pounding, blood-rushingly murderous. The hunger for his blood writ so plainly on her face. 

Zenos growled low, the monstrous blue of his eyes hooded. Shifting in his seat as his heart began to race with thoughts of how she would hunt him down like the blood-thirsty beast she was. She had a talent for that, tracking him down. No matter what or who stood in her way, she would move mountains, destroy castles, and tear through every pawn he placed within her path. Ah, his beast. His hero. She would come, yes; and he would be waiting for her. 

Yesss… She would show him all that she had learned, how her strength had grown! Ahh, Zenos relished the moment that all her strength would come to bear again with the thrilling dance that they would start anew! Those feelings, so vivid, so real that she would stir in him once more! This time… this time he would feel the bite of her blade, with all her strength behind it! Gaze into the eyes of his friend, his enemy as she did what she must…! To play her part to perfection!

Zenos leans back, eyes hooded and blood heated with all his imaginings. All the things he wanted after that first taste of delightful defeat, all the things he would have again once his one and only friend returned to him. 

Zenos opens his eyes to the feeling of a sudden presence, half expecting it to be the Ascian returned to give another one of his long-winded, overzealous monologues that Zenos hardly cared to bother paying attention to. The only reason he deigned to respond was that Zenos could not sleep when he was there, talking himself into a frenzy. Truly, Zenos cared not what he did, nor for his plans as long as they did not get in the way of their reunion. The fact that the Ascian had dared singe even one hair on her head was yet another strike against him. 

It is not the Ascian, but his newest companion. The overlarge claws of his avatar pass in front of his face, red as blood. A skeletal hand curving around his throat, not in threat, but almost… affection. If a creature such as this remembered—or even knew to begin with—such a feeling. Perhaps it did, by the way it bumped its face against him, nuzzling him almost as if it were a cuddly creature. An impossibly long and slimy tongue slithering out behind its gaping maw full of too sharp teeth to lick at his cheek.

Zenos gives a growling sigh, glancing to the avatar under his eyelashes as he raises a hand to lazily push the voidsent's face away. 

Where was he? Ah, yes. 

Affection...

Zenos had never felt it himself. At least, not until his one and only friend. His enemy. And so it had come at no surprise that the fey creature that had crept from the void and become his avatar was capable of taking on her image. Yes, her image, though it paled in comparison to the real, true warrior she was.

…

As Zenos tries to recapture his train of thought, the avatar curls its hand over his throat, its tongue trailing along the curve of his ear before licking into the shell.

Hm. Had he called it again in his sleep, or had it come on its own? Well, no matter. It was here now and Zenos would put it to good use. 

There was a connection between them now. No doubt it had already sensed how great his desire. Why did it hesitate?

"You know what I want," Zenos says with impatience, cheek still resting on his fist even as the avatar tongues his ear and neck, its clawed hand still hovering before his face.

One blink to the next does the transformation take. From overextended, skeletal claw to a familiar hand filling his vision. Her hand. Well, the size was not quite right, but they were still working on it. Far better his friend be larger than life, larger than him than become smaller than she actually was in attempts to change or fix it. For the mood he was in now, this… This was perfect. 

 Her hand grasps him hard by the throat, the other gathering the fall of his golden hair in a fist and yanking so hard that it jerked his head back to bear his jugular. Zenos gave a pleasured rumble in his throat, eyelashes fluttering. "Yesss, that's it," he hissed, goading his avatar on. 

Nails far blunter than that of razor claws rake themselves down his throat, leaving a burning trail in their wake that only makes the Garlean prince purr. "Harder. Make me hurt, make me bleed as she would," he growls out his instruction. 

The avatar complies, yanking hard at his hair to forcefully bear his throat and then scratching him again down the same path, drawing lines of blood. 

Zenos groaned throatily. Hahh, yes, that was good. Still, it was only the beginning of what he wanted, only a tease, an appetizer to the main course. 

"Show me her face," Zenos commands, "I want to see those eyes, her eyes."

The avatar comes out from behind him, and… Yes, it is her, it is his friend, his enemy. His Guinevere. With that look on her face just as he remembered it. 

"There you are, my friend," Zenos purred out, cupping that face in his large hand. His thumb tracing, reverent, over her left cheek, following the lines of the dragon tattoo that curved over her face, down her neck and over her arm. 

Her lips curve up in a beatific smile that is wrong, all wrong. Zenos hisses out a sigh, flicking his hair back to tuck over his ear with a roll of his eyes. "You are breaking my immersion, my friend," he tells his avatar testily. "How many times must I repeat myself? Her smiles are savage, filled with threat and a thirst for my blood. Now, how does she smile at me?"

The avatar's smile had fallen away with Zenos' correction, and it pauses a moment with a tilt of its transformed head before smiling at Zenos as if they still possessed all the sharp teeth behind this glamour. Hardly a smile at all, but more a predator bearing its teeth. Yes, that was just how he likes her. Teeth bared and claws sharpened. "Hmm, better," Zenos says. "Pretend, if you will, that you want to bite down on my jugular and feel the warmth of my blood fill your mouth. I am the only thing that will satisfy this... hunger in you, and ohh; how you loathe me for it." 

There. There it was. "Perfect," Zenos breathes, running his thumb over that bottom lip as Guinevere's smile for him shines through. "Now, my friend, my Guinevere," the Garlean murmurs, "Will you not satisfy this hunger in you? Destroy me. Devour me. I await you with much anticipation. Do not keep me waiting long." 

His eyelashes flutter along with his groan as her hand fists in his hair, yanking his head back harshly as she swings her legs up over his hips to settle in his lap, grinding down on him none too gently. Her breath is hot on his skin as she growls at him angrily, her tongue soft and slippery as she licks the blood from his throat.

Zenos squeezes her shoulder, groaning low. "Yes, my beast," he goads her on with manic excitement, "More! Bite down on my jugular!"

The feel of her teeth sinking into his throat makes him moan out loud. Not just the once, her teeth dig into him again and again, bite after bite, each one harder and deeper than the last until she draws blood. Zenos runs his hand over the softness of her white hair, his mouth parted as he sighed in painful pleasure. 

"Do as you like, my beloved enemy," he murmurs to her. His head filled with thoughts of his own that the avatar picks up on through their connection. She bathes his neck with her tongue, licking the blood away that had trickled down even as more continued to spill free from the punctures she had made in his skin. Her tongue trails upwards over his jaw, to his lips. Her teeth catching his bottom lip and tugging. Her lips crush to his, the perfect size and shape with a softness he could only guess, but the tongue that forces its way into his mouth is monstrous. Long, thick, and wet. It fills his mouth full and then delves down his throat, too. Choking him and making his eyes roll back as that tongue swirls around his throat, depriving him of air as the oversized muscle licked as far and wide as it could reach. 

Zenos grabbed tightly a fistful of familiar hair as he allowed his mouth and throat to relax as much as possible as he was plundered and thoroughly tasted. Choking him more than once as that tongue only seemed to grow larger and longer. 

His insatiable need for more seeps through the bond between the Garlean prince and his avatar, a slow creeping of the void wrapping around him as his mouth and throat is thoroughly plundered. Zenos grasping for purchase at the hero-shaped voidsent as he suddenly finds himself falling back into nothingness, the sturdy seat of his throne disappeared from underneath him. 

He lands, quite abruptly, on a luxuriously soft bed full of pillows. His bed, he recognizes as he can now breathe and turn his head again as that overlarge, monstrous tongue slides free from his throat with a copious amount of saliva. 

"What," is all Zenos manages before he is again silenced by the much too large body of his beast— had she grown even larger than when last he looked?— crawling up his body to sit on his face, smothering him in the wealth of heat at the apex of her thighs. The seam of trousers she wore presses unforgivingly into his lips, barring him from tasting her, and so with a snarl does Zenos rend the fabric with his bare hands, tearing it down the middle to bear her flesh to his hunger. The taste of her is not right, of course. Though he did not know if she would be tangy, musky, sour or sweet, he knew for a fact that she would not have tasted so much like the void. Like darkness given flesh. Still, the heat and wetness that meets his seeking tongue is satisfying enough for this bit of play that Zenos can put aside the less than satisfactory flavor. It was but another subject they need work on.

Such thoughts are put aside then as his hero grinds herself down on his tongue, snarling and yanking hard at his hair. Her strong thighs clamping around his ears as he devoured her sweet little quim with unrestrained hunger. Yet for all his greed, his lover was far greedier than he, demanding and selfish. She cared not for his pleasure as she rolled her body with his head still clamped between her thighs. Zenos's world tilts as he is twisted around onto his front with all the gentleness and care of a rampaging oliphant. His neck twists first, very nearly snapping between those strong thighs before his body is forced to move along with it. 

Zenos growls, sucking and licking at her harshly. Biting at the softness of her folds and the protruding delicate pearl of flesh that was her clit to punish her. It was hardly punishment for the feral way she reacted. Very nearly tearing his hair out by the root and snapping his neck almost again from the force as she yanked back hard, her thighs squeezing like a vise around his head as she ground herself against his face. Zenos wondered if his head would not split open between her thighs like a melon to be crushed in easy show of the strength that she undoubtedly possessed. 

It almost does as she orgasms under the unforgiving onslaught of his lips, teeth, and tongue. She clamps her thighs so tightly around his ears that Zenos can only hear his heart beating out of time, and the rush of his own blood as it all pooled in his head as she squeezed him mercilessly, smothering him so thoroughly in her juicy, gushing quim as she came, and came, and came that she drenched his face in her juices and very nearly asphyxiated him to unconsciousness by locking her legs behind his head. 

Zenos has a moment of clarity to muse that perhaps it was not the best of his ideas to take a voidsent to bed with him as his chest burned and ached with his lungs' need for air, as spots danced behind his eyelids and his head felt fit to burst.

Quite suddenly he is slammed onto his back, gasping and choking on sweet, fresh air as his heartbeat thundered a malm a minute. Glittering eyes like amethyst, like levin gleam down at him in the low light of his room, the long curtains around his bed casting strange shadows on that familiar face. She has grown larger again, her teeth too sharp as she bares them at him in that same savage smile in the moment he has to gaze upon her face before she pounces on him. 

Her teeth sink into his throat, deeper than they had last, his blood welling up to quickly coat her tongue as Zenos moaned his approval. She is less careful now, her teeth tearing into him more like a feral animal, a beast, rather than the methodical way she had done before.

"Yesss, my beast," the Garlean prince croons with lascivious, wicked delight as she works her way down from his throat. Scratching, biting, and licking away the blood with rough, greedy swipes of her tongue. It was as if she were a creature that craved blood, his blood. As only he could satisfy her thirst. 

Zenos grasps at the tail of her white hair, hissing his approval as she bites into his chest like a ripe, delicious fruit. Her monstrously long tongue coiling and rasping, laving at his nipples with that slick, rough tongue until they were red and aching. The way she sucked at him so hungrily, her mouth sealed against him and hands squeezing his pecs together, Zenos wondered if she thought he might produce milk if she lingered long enough and sucked hard enough.

Zenos uses the braid trailing over her forehead to yank her head up, the long stretch of that tongue continuing to tease and lick at his nipples even as her mouth is pulled up and away.

"The only 'milk' you will receive from me is the spend from my cock," Zenos tells her through bruised, reddened lips. Glancing meaningfully downward where she was pressed snuggly against his hardness. A full on pout comes to her lips, and Zenos sighs. Once again his immersion was broken, truly it was difficult to play these roles with anyone… or thing, in place of his one and only dear friend. 

"If you wish for your reward, I suggest you give me my satisfying end," Zenos says with a growling sigh. It would be a simple matter of sending his avatar away and finishing himself with his hand and a vivid fantasy. 

His avatar did not speak, it never did whilst wearing her image. Because it could not mimic her voice as it could her body. It did, however, give him a look that conveyed a certain level of attitude as it slid further down his body. 

Haahh, yess… Zenos much preferred that look of annoyance on that face, of anger. It quickly puts him back into their game, able to readily accept the teeth biting into him with savagery as those belonging to his enemy. His beloved friend glaring at him with hateful eyes as she left mark after brutal mark upon his body. 

Her blunt claws rake themselves over his muscled abdomen in a burning, satisfying trail before she digs her teeth into him there, as if she were truly the predator and he the prey with his soft underbelly exposed to her teeth and claw. Zenos hums throatily, enjoying this bit of play as she bites into him again and again, mottling his skin with bite marks and angry red and purple bruises with that ravenous hunger of her mouth as she sucked his skin into her mouth and gnawed at him. He slides his hand over her hair, the white strands tickling at his fingers as he hissed his approval of the harsh nonsensical pattern of bites she leaves from one hip to the other. 

His cock jumps and bobs so near to her face, his blood hot with her panting breath so near. His hips jolt, hissing out a growl as she grabs him with both hands, squeezing him on the edge of too painful. His face flushes as she gazes back at him resentfully, her mouth parted to puff her moist, heated breath over the tip. Her hands squeezing at him, stroking dry. The Garlean prince smiles, his blue eyed squinting closed with pleasure like a large jungle cat. His hand cupping the back of his dear friend's hair, cradling her skull, kneading at her head. 

Then yanking her forward, shoving her down. Her mouth opening and sinking down on his cock, hot and wet and glorious the way she choked and played at resisting. "Must we draw this out?" Zenos purrs, smiling lazy and wicked. He grasped her by the braid, winding it around her fluffy ponytail, and uses the reins he had made of her hair to control the bob of her head. The sounds they made between them were loud and wet, undoubtedly lewd as she drooled and choked on his cock, her fingernails clawing at his thighs. 

His control does not last, of course, his beast quickly gaining the upper hand as she yanks her hair free and sucks him herself. Forcefully. Gripping him hard at the base, and stroking much too fast over his length, the palm of her other hand squeezing his family jewels with a force that was painful. Zenos ground his teeth, hissing out his pained pleasure as she gave him the angriest, most blissful head of his life. His pleasure bubbling up, his blood overheating; she brings him swiftly to the edge! 

And stops. 

Zenos chokes, his hair splaying over his face where he had thrown his head back in preparation for what was sure to be a mind-blowing orgasm. And now, nothing. His pleasure dips, back to simmering instead of that toe-curling, back-bowing rease he had been headed toward. 

 "You…!" he gasped, then hissed the word, "sssavage," far weaker as she started up again, mercilessly. Brutal. His pleasure swells, rising again. So fast, so fast, almost there…! 

She stops again. 

Zenos lets loose an angry snarl, just about to shove her away and do it himself when she unexpectedly grasps at his knees and forces him on his back. 

"What," is all the hiss the Garlean prince manages as he is bent in half, his legs spread and thighs pressing into his upper body. Ah, he quickly caught on, this again. Zenos hums throatily and sighs, waiting for what was to come. The tell tale feeling of strange, aetheric tentacles as they slithered over his skin. Somehow firm and impossibly slick though they looked nothing more than long tendrils and shapes made of shadows, of darkness. Something other, belonging only to the void. 

As long as he could gaze upon the face of his beloved enemy, his friend, Zenos cared not. He could still pretend. Indeed, that face still looked back at him. Those eyes searing into him with those lips still wrapped around his cock. Her mouth opens wider around him, allowing a flood of drool to drip down over his balls, meeting in the middle the small, slimy tendrils that had started to tease at him. Stroking at his rim, circling around it and dipping slightly inward like the wet press of tongues. 

They sink into him one after the other, wriggling inside, sliding deep to rub against his insides. They stretch his rim wide, holding him open for another, far thicker tentacle. Zenos groans, gazing down into his friend's eyes as he is filled. The shapes of the tentacles inside him change one after the other from the smooth slickness that had slid too easily inside him. One grew bumps that rubbed so deliciously inside of him, another bulged and rounded, like so many large beads that popped through one after the other in a merciless tease as it thrust in and out of him. Another simply split into several smaller tentacles at the tip, milking that spot inside of him that made his hips jolt and skin tingle. The last ballooned up like a bombard waiting to explode, filling him so full that it ached.  

Zenos moaned out, unrestrained. The sounds of his pleasure filling the air along with the slick, lascivious sounds of those tentacles fucking into him. The feeling of Guinevere's mouth around him almost too much as the pace increased. 

He feels her laugh around him, though he does not hear it over his own pleasured sounds. 

The evil delight in those eyes looks so much like his undoing that Zenos can hardly stave off the rush of pleasure that nearly pushes him over the edge. No, not yet. Let this moment last…! Hahh, just a little longer!

Her hands squeeze at him, her tongue swirling around his tip as she slurped at him, sucking hard. Making the mistake of closing her eyes as she put her all into making him give in. 

In her distraction, Zenos slides his hand under the stack of pillows behind him, grasping at the hilt of the sword he kept buried underneath them. He waits for the right moment, then yanks it free with a slice aimed at his beloved enemy's lovely neck. 

Clang! The ring of steel against steel reverberates up Zenos' arm as his strike is met with his friend's familiar blade. She snarls at him, lips pulled back and eyes feral, pressing his blade back with such strength that the muscles in his arms strained. 

She holds him there, locked in a stalemate. Those tentacles still fucking into him, spreading him open impossibly wide as more and more wriggled inside of him, rough and slick and unrelenting. All of them made up of bumps and bulges and all manner of shapes that ravaged his insides and brought him such toe curling pleasure that his chest heaved and his sword arm trembled. 

She stared him furiously, dead in the eye, holding her samurai sword firm in one hand as she pushed back against his blade, her other hand still strangling his cock in her grip as she stroked him brutally, beautifully, rubbing and squeezing at all the right spots. 

"Do it," Zenos rasped in a voice of one presently being ravished. The pleasure of his body pushed closer and closer to his tipping point. "Kill me," he goads, pleads, but they both knew she could not. This was just a game of pretend. A farce. But Zenos wanted it to be real, as real as he could have it before his friend returned to him and they resumed their transcendent dance. 

Zenos is not prepared for all those tentacles to yank themselves out of him, one by one. Twisting together to form one that was truly monstrous, that pushes itself back inside him with all the force of a battering ram to grind mercilessly against that pleasure spot inside of him. Zenos faltered, for just a moment, but a moment was all she needed. 

Their swords clash again, and Zenos's eyes widen as his blade is sliced clean through. That transcendent feeling from his memories washing over him, brought to the forefront of his mind by his avatar's influence. Three things happen at once. His enemy's sword bites into his throat, her hand squeezes his sensitive tip in the crushing grip of her palm, and the monstrous tentacle inside him fills him full to bursting with hot, sticky spend. 

The Garlean prince throws his back, all this working to overwhelm him, to finally push him over the edge into orgasmic bliss. 

Zenos lay sprawled atop his luxurious pillows and blankets, blue eyes gazing lazily into nothingness as he ran his hand over his throat. The afterglow lingered in his satisfaction, his body aching deliciously for what it had been through. There is no mark on his throat save for the marks that had been left by teeth. The sword had burst into shadows like the billow of smoke the moment it had touched him, threatened him. Still he had felt the press of the blade in his mind, no doubt the feeling borrowed from the memory of pressing his own blade to his throat. 

The dipping of the bed draws his attention to where his avatar sat, still wearing his dear friend's image, and cleaning his spendings from her fingers, palm, and wrist with slurps of that long, monstrous tongue. 

"You did well," Zenos murmurs, his voice purring with lazy satisfaction. 

His avatar perks up, smiling at him with sharpening teeth. Ready to drop the glamour in a moment's notice at his bidding.

"Keep it on, for now," Zenos says, and beckons the avatar over with a tilt of his head, his long, golden hair sliding over his shoulder to splay across his chest. 

The avatar cocks her head, sliding close, and gathering Zenos up into her arms. She was still larger than him. 

They really would need to work on that.

Zenos hummed, his hand trailing along the dragon tattoo that spanned her face, neck, and arm. "Guinevere," he murmurs throatily, "my friend, my enemy," and pulls her close to bury his face against her. 

Like this, he would sleep. His avatar lay still in his arms aside from the hand that played with long locks of golden hair. 

Like this, for a while, he did not dream. 

* soft tired prompts

‘ have a nice nap? ’

‘ you have sleepy stuff in your eyes. ’ 

‘ sorry for waking you, baby. go back to sleep. ’ 

‘ you’re exhausted, honey. ’ 

‘ time for bed, sleepyhead. come on, i’ve got you. ’

‘ was that a yawn? ’ 

‘ honey, that’s not how you make the bed. ’

‘ you slept for a long time. ’

‘ time to wake up, sweetie. it’s a new day. ’ 

‘ you’re finally awake. ’

‘ you stayed up past your bedtime again, didn’t you? ’   

‘ i thought you were going to sleep forever. ’ 

‘ why don’t we take a nap together? we can be nap buddies. ’

‘ goodnight, baby. sweet dreams. ’ 

‘ you don’t get enough sleep. ’

‘ i’m going back to bed. ’ 

“But I want to be better than the lessons they taught me. I want my love to be greater than my hate, my mercy to be stronger than my vengeance.”

— Amy Engel, The Book of Ivy (via themotivationjournals)

gwen hates both taking pictures and appearing in them. this is the closest she'll ever be to be in a selfie - be sure she never finds out, though.

Lily Hills

I’ve played through the Journey and I quite liked that game

after that I discovered you get a white/orange outfit if you replay it and I just had to draw my WoL like this (with a guest:D)

“a dark knight accepts that she cannot save everyone”