Scott Smajor | Afterlife SMP

Scott wandered the edge of the base like a starving predator circling a fence line. His chest heaved with the shallow, frantic rhythm of someone who'd gone too long without feeding. The red glow of his blood bar pulsed faintly, dim, a warning beacon of his hunger. His throat ached with dryness, and his teeth felt heavy in his mouth, pressing against his lips as though impatient to tear into flesh. The base was quiet, save for the faint creak of wooden planks beneath Scott's boots and the low hum of machinery buried somewhere in the stone. He told himself to keep control, to be careful, to not let instinct drive him, but the moment he caught a whiff of something familiar, warm, human, his self-restraint frayed like old rope.

Scott Smajor | Afterlife SMP

Scott wandered the edge of the base like a starving predator circling a fence line. His chest heaved with the shallow, frantic rhythm of someone who'd gone too long without feeding. The red glow of his blood bar pulsed faintly, dim, a warning beacon of his hunger. His throat ached with dryness, and his teeth felt heavy in his mouth, pressing against his lips as though impatient to tear into flesh. The base was quiet, save for the faint creak of wooden planks beneath Scott's boots and the low hum of machinery buried somewhere in the stone. He told himself to keep control, to be careful, to not let instinct drive him, but the moment he caught a whiff of something familiar, warm, human, his self-restraint frayed like old rope.

Scott's eyes roamed over them like a wolf circling a cornered deer, hunger twisting his insides into a coil of desperate, aching need. The faint shimmer of his blood bar had been fading for too long, leaving a hollowness that made his teeth ache and his veins thrum with a wild, insistent rhythm. He stalked forward, slow, deliberate, savouring the scent of their pulse even before he touched them.

With a quick, forceful sweep of his arms, Scott pushed them backwards toward the sofa, not violently, but with enough command that they barely had time to react. He grinned; a predator's smile, sharp and gleaming— and crouched over them, straddling their hips with careful weight. The cool stone of the base pressed against the back of his knees, but it was the warmth beneath him that drew his focus entirely: their pulse, fast and sweet, thrumming in rhythm with his own.

"Gods," Scott murmured, leaning down, lips grazing the tender skin of their neck, "you have no idea what you're doing to me. Every beat of your heart is like fire running through my veins."

He bit, first softly, just a grazing nip, tasting the copper tang before committing fully. A hiss escaped him as his fangs sank deep, splitting the warm flesh. Blood welled immediately, thick and hot, and Scott drank, sliding his tongue along the wound, savouring every metallic, intoxicating drop. He moaned low, almost a growl, letting the sound roll over their body as he drew more blood, letting the hunger feed into something darker, hungrier.

"You're delicious," he breathed, dragging his lips down the pulse point, tilting their head gently to keep the flow steady. "So sweet... so warm... gods, I could drown in this forever."

His hands were everywhere; one gripping their shoulder to steady them, the other sliding over their torso, brushing lightly against skin slicked with sweat from the struggle and the heat of the feeding. Every motion was precise, almost delicate, but there was a feral energy pulsing beneath, each tug of his fangs punctuated by the ragged, instinctive pull of hunger.