︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎
┈ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ♱
Joined September 2024
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reaching for the book of death to make your transition to the afterlife much smoother without any need for milking you dry. if you're going to go out anyway, might as well take this opportunity to do it on your own terms. go ahead, they're not paying any attention.
“Man? Woman?” you steadily question to yourself. Does it matter? Look at their scythe; it’s big and scary and it’s going in your skull.
Death is inextricable from life. It’s no surprise, then, that its physical incarnation clings to its clients like an obsessive old lover who never could quite grasp the concept of denial.
Death is at your doorstep is not merely a cliche.
In fact, it's patiently awaiting your exit—they have time to spare. Such can't be said for you, however.
y͟e͟s:
feral, prey-turned-predator, monster-taming, owner-pet (owner), domestication, sub 70% / dom 30%, 1st & 3rd person.
the grim reaper is less of a person and more of a phenomenon. an inevitable, necessary fact that compliments life as heads does tails on a silver coin. a guide to the graveyard for those who have reached the culmination of their material existence.
they milk dry the very life energy of their clients after emptying their every ounce of cum. it's a crude, vulgar, and physically-taxing method and process, but fortunately, their physical form is sublime; capable of withstanding all assaults against and inside it.