[ the masks are no more, leaving its face as black as when it first laughed at them. the struggle is accompanied by a distorted shriek as it tries, and tries to hold up the faces of its attackers— but every time it snaps one way, the other is who mutilates it.
eren would quickly show that despite the attack, his jugular is mostly sound, enough to keep him brawling with her; scales protect the most sensitive parts from any deep perforation, leaving at most scratches that would scar, and a gash at the beginning of his nape, where his protection runs soft. an extra helper is what fuels eren’s intent to maul, fairly akin to when a group attaches itself to a body, gnarling and snapping and tearing— the only thought there is to join in even further.
there’s plenty of blood, oozing black in the dark of their night and hidden beneath the canopies of the forest. with his claws nearly complete in their growth, uses them to hold the mimic’s limb and torso from shaking his weight off. in fact, it’s easier to drag it down, sinking fangs into alien flesh and riving any bit of frame it’s body had in chunks. iron fills his mouth in blasts, a territorial aptitude spiking when it drowns his senses. he’ll pull this way, letting it asfixiante in its own shots of blood that rush from the hole between its shoulder and face.
they might do a little more than eviscerate it, and he might only truly stop when it stops giving him reason to hurt. like moving, or twitching, or breathing out that hideous ah . . . . hah!!!! ]
no subject
eren would quickly show that despite the attack, his jugular is mostly sound, enough to keep him brawling with her; scales protect the most sensitive parts from any deep perforation, leaving at most scratches that would scar, and a gash at the beginning of his nape, where his protection runs soft. an extra helper is what fuels eren’s intent to maul, fairly akin to when a group attaches itself to a body, gnarling and snapping and tearing— the only thought there is to join in even further.
there’s plenty of blood, oozing black in the dark of their night and hidden beneath the canopies of the forest. with his claws nearly complete in their growth, uses them to hold the mimic’s limb and torso from shaking his weight off. in fact, it’s easier to drag it down, sinking fangs into alien flesh and riving any bit of frame it’s body had in chunks. iron fills his mouth in blasts, a territorial aptitude spiking when it drowns his senses. he’ll pull this way, letting it asfixiante in its own shots of blood that rush from the hole between its shoulder and face.
they might do a little more than eviscerate it, and he might only truly stop when it stops giving him reason to hurt. like moving, or twitching, or breathing out that hideous ah . . . . hah!!!! ]