Woodlouse [18+]
@woodlouse.bsky.social
750 followers 200 following 8.6K posts
V | 20-Something Commission me: https://woodlice.neocities.org/
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woodlouse.bsky.social
hey do you want to give me money for a drawing. then great news. i have none and would like yours.

$25 USD for a single character black and white sketch
+$10 USD per additional character

To check my availability, check my bio or my website.
woodlouse.bsky.social
I, too, dissolve into goop if i try too hard.
woodlouse.bsky.social
"oh V likes the episode with the failed clone daddy's girl and the smooth talking and utterly insidious father figure who doesnt have her best interests at heart. Go Figure."
woodlouse.bsky.social
i used to LOVE this episode as a kid..
woodlouse.bsky.social
decided to rewatch Dani's introduction episode of danny phantom and im realizing things about myself.
woodlouse.bsky.social
i wanna dress as the batter from off for halloween but i also have the temptation to put the bunny suit back on.. i didnt get to give it a proper run last time..
woodlouse.bsky.social
does anyone wanna do it in the butt rq?
woodlouse.bsky.social
that was v stream of consciousness but i felt it in my bones so whatever.
woodlouse.bsky.social
But your stomach is growling again already.
woodlouse.bsky.social
You watched it with her. You thought it was alright.

...

You hold her. She's cold now, but you press her body flush with yours. She's gone, has been for a long time, but if you don't open your eyes, she might just be sleeping.

You wish you could stay there, and wait for the sun to rise.
woodlouse.bsky.social
You linger there, in the silence. The front of your pants are soaked, your lips covered in blood, dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. All that there is now is the sound of the turned-town television.

You think you've seen this one. 1941s "The Wolf Man," you think.
woodlouse.bsky.social
You try to speak, but end up sputtering the blood past your lips, splattering up and down her neck. She's stopped thrashing. All that's left is shallow breathing and weeping. You can't stop humping drinking violating killing. You just. need. to. to.
woodlouse.bsky.social
The ultimate fantasy. To be consumed, entirely, by the monsters that she thinks about every night. By the monster she unwittingly compared you to every movie night. It's almost funny. Almost. Almost.

Not really.

Keep drinking.
woodlouse.bsky.social
Rubbing salt in the wound. You dare not pull back, to sever the flow of blood into your body. You need more. More. She needs more. You need to kill her. That's the only way this works. She wants this, you're sure of it. Ignore the tears streaming down her face, against your lips. She *needs* this.
woodlouse.bsky.social
Your hump against her, your foot grinding hard against her pant leg, trying to tug it down further. You need her exposed. You're wearing pants right now but it doesn't matter. You're thrusting your crotch violently against her sloppy-wet cunt. Your body is, of its own accord, defiling her.
woodlouse.bsky.social
-inside of her. You've stopped being a person, you've shed your costume entirely, you're a great black wolf sinking your vile disease-ridden fangs into a helpless prey animal. You're a monster in the skin of a person, masquerading as someone with a conscience. You're not sorry anymore. Just hungry.
woodlouse.bsky.social
You drink your fill, and it's like the world is flush with color again. An aurora of color fills your brain, calming, soothing heat being forced down your throat and filling your gullet. It's like pouring gasoline on an open flame, it only drives your hunger further, needier, and your teeth deeper-
woodlouse.bsky.social
She'll live if she gives you what you want, she thinks, you'll call somebody. You'll get what you need from this and then leave the door open and- and somebody will *see* her. She'll survive this if she just gives you what you want.
woodlouse.bsky.social
Your canines dig into her, piercing through skin and meat and capillaries before slicing her jugular vein. She's shocked into silence, now afraid to scream for fear of making the wound worse.
woodlouse.bsky.social
"Please," she whimpers, "Just- Just talk to me, what happened, what-" She's interrupted by a sob, her face contorting. Your eyes are shut. You don't want to be the last time you look at her to be of her ugly-crying as you defile her. Your teeth rasp against her neck.

"Please don't do this."
woodlouse.bsky.social
Your lips press against her lips, then cheek, then chin, then pausing just for a moment before you get there. You wish you could command your body again, to pull yourself away and dive into the night and find someone, anyone else, or at least choke out an apology before snuffing her out.
woodlouse.bsky.social
She's wet, and she doesn't want to be. So much of this is her darkest fantasy, so many scenes from late night exploitative horror flicks flashing in her mind. This is everything she's fantasized about you for so long and now that it's here she's trying not to cry. She's so scared, now.