/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

>>1957110
"Shit. Body ahead," Fourteen gestures to the East. Squinting your eyes, you confirm he's not seeing things. "Non-human. It's an elk. I can see the antlers..."
"Moving," You reply, Eight following you. Sure enough, fang wounds - though much smaller than you would expect of normal predators - are visible on its neck. The neck itself is broken. The corpse is still warm. Something within you tingles in unease.

"This was recent," You utter, standing up. Fourteen shoots you a look. "Eyes open. She could be--"

Something slams into Eight, sending him sprawling with a pained scream. A blur of movement. Footsteps moving at an incredible speed...

"AGGH! MOTHERFUCKER!" Eight screams. His shirt is ripped clean through. You see blood.
"Contact, two o'clock!" Fourteen yells out, firing at the blur. You hear something resembling a yowl of pain. "Direct hit!"
"Cover him," You reply, breaking into a sprint. Fourteen quickly moves in to try and assist Eight as he writhes on his back, clutching at his lacerations. "Pursuing target!"

Even one hit from one of these should be more than enough to bring Botan down to your level. They're designed to be incredibly fast acting. That doesn't mean you feel good about this...but at least you know she was moving away from your team. It's a small sense of comfort. But it means you're alone. Running into the brush, you swing your light from side to side, attempting to get anything resembling a lead on where the lioness went. As you try to gain a visual, a low growl emits from the treeline. Up ahead, to the right, you see her hunched form glaring at you from behind a tree...poised to leap. Your heart rate spikes. You raise your weapon as she snarls, pouncing out at you. You pull the trigger.

Botan's pounce loses all its energy as the woman collides with the ground harshly, rolling a bit before she roughly slams into a tree trunk, growling out in pain. Sweat rolls down your forehead as you keep your weapon level with her. Blood and muck coat her mouth and skin respectively as she stares at you with hatred, chest rising and falling as she hyperventilates, struggling to stay awake. She lets out a roar in your direction...and you respond by shooting her again, this time in the breast. Though she jolts from the impact, there's no entrance wound; there never is. Something about the magic, if you had to guess. Puts the shit in their system directly; the round is just a convenient way to administer it. The lioness finally slumps to the ground properly, going limp. You keep the rifle leveled at her for a few moments more. She doesn't move. With a heavy sigh, you shakily sling the rifle.

She looks so small, now. A cute woman with lion ears and a now-matted head of hair...if you didn't see it first hand, you never would've believed the shit she was capable of. And Cover *employs* her. You shiver. If they really wanted to, they could unleash all these super and metahumans on the planet. You'd all be fucked. For Christ's sake, take a look at Azrael. They've got her fucking rapping. A low groan of pain catches your attention as you look up and over.

"Didja get her?" Fourteen asks, supporting a limping Eight. "Heard the shots. Beats a flare."
"If that bitch got away, I swear to God--" Eight begins before hissing out in pain. He's been bandaged up, but he'll need proper medical attention sooner than later. His expression softens a bit when he sees Botan. "Oh, thank fuck..."
"Gonna call it in. You good, man?" You inquire, pulling your radio out. You give it a tentative listen and confirm that you still have a signal.
"Yeah, yeah, just...let's get outta here. Fuck the woods."

Nodding, you step away, bringing the radio up to your mouth as Fourteen gripes at Eight to stop exacerbating his wounds by bitching so much.

"This is 4N-0N. We've got Wildcat. Sending you our coordinates, now. One of ours needs medical attention."
"Excellent," a woman on the other end breathes out in relief. "Her condition?"
"Unconscious and filthy."
"Expected. Standby for exfil."
"Chopper?"
"Of course."

Cutting the chatter short, you stow the radio as you take a seat on the ground next to Botan, letting out a low sigh of relief. Sure enough, within a few moments, the telltale beat of helicopter blades - followed by the blinding brightness of a search light - get closer and closer to you. The lioness begins to snore next to you. Time for extract.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GRc9DqluD4F34cDyRM_TOjH5qXClTnpT9gMBiILeZJU/edit?usp=sharing
I fucking hate SMART Filters on Pastebin so fucking much. Some people kept asking for more of the black ops stuff. Not really abusive anymore so I can be a bit more loose. Sadly not much good Botan art for this, but this'll do.

The case of the Tsavo maneaters served as a cautionary tale to those foolish enough to venture into the wilds of Africa: beware the fanged beasts known as lions. Their speed, cunning, and strength is without equal. You remember reading about it, once or twice. Terrifying tale of how two lions wreaked havoc on a camp for an extended period of time. Jokingly, you muttered to yourself that you were glad you were so far away from such ferocious wildcats, by margin of an entire ocean. It was a comforting thought. At least, it was, when it was still applicable. With a low growl, Botan's tail flicks on your lap idly while the idol leans into your shoulders and neck from a position behind you, taking deep huffs of your hair and general scent, leaving you too terrified to move. Gulping, you try to still your pounding heart. As relaxed and laid back as she was, she was still, well...a lion. If Coco could incinerate you for angering her, if Noel could smash you into a red paste...then Botan could flay you into ribbons. You wonder how sharp those claws really are. You regret taking this aide job immensely. You regret letting her ambush you in the janitorial closet, more.

Seemingly content with what she smells from you, she lets out a gentle sigh, rubbing her cheek against yours as her grip tightens, pulling you back into her chest. Primate instinct begins to run wild as your limbs twitch.

"Hey," the lionness begins softly, grip tightening. From the corner of your eye, you can see her lips curl into a smile. "You spoken for?"
"I...I, er...no, ma'am," you cough out, trying not let your discomfort show in your voice. You remember predators can smell fear, anyway. "I'm not...why do you, uh-"
"That's settled then," Botan says, cutting you off. Her claws dig into your skin just the barest amount, a heavy purr emanating from her chest. "You're mine now. Sound good?"

A silence falls over the both of you as something in your brain does a double-take. Eh?

"Eh?" you repeat, out loud this time rather than internally. "What? What d-"
"I mean you're my mate now," Botan bluntly utters, again cutting you off. "Got a problem with that?"

Her claws sink deeper into your skin as sweat pours off your forehead in buckets.

"Why me?" you spit out quickly, a hint of panic leaking into your voice. The lioness lets out a soft laugh.
"Why not you? You're of decent stock. Got some meat on you, some musculature...easy on the eyes," she speaks softly, retracting her claws from your flesh, rubbing her hands up and down your chest. "I don't see anything wrong with it."
"But I--"
"But what? You're not seeing anyone, so you're unspoken for. I even sniffed you out to make sure you weren't lying," Botan grins. "And now you belong to me, rather than being alone. Welcome to the pride."

Leaning in a bit more, Botan plants a small kiss on your cheek, running her tongue up it for good measure before she slowly turns you to face her. She gives you a grin that exposes her fangs, her tongue running over them for effect.

"Just remember who your owner is, okay?"
"But-"
"That's all you need to do, and we'll get along just fine," she coos, cutting you off once more. She locks eyes with you, narrowing her gaze a bit as annoyance begins to fill her features. Reaching up, she plants a hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. Her claws immediately dig into your skin with minimal effort as she quickly pushes you back into the wall. You try to yell out in pain, but Botan's ears perk as she clasps her free hand over your mouth. "Or I'll drag you back to my den by what's left of your throat. I really don't want it to come to that, so be a good boy, yeah? No more questions. No more lip. Just enjoy it. Okay?"

Fear thoroughly renewed, you nod your head quickly, the nails in your shoulder drawing blood. Satisfied, Botan releases you, letting you slide a bit down the wall as she backs up. Noticing the fresh sanguine on her digits, she sniffs it curiously as she watches you on the ground. With a mischievous grin, she brings her hand up to her mouth, sticking her long tongue out as she takes a tentative lick. As your fluid hits her tongue, she shivers, eyes widening just the slightest amount. Plunging the fingers into her mouth without a second thought, she cleans your essence off them as what remains in your veins runs cold, licking her lips and letting out a satisfied sound as she calms down.

"Mhm. Good stock. I was right. I'll see you after work."

Without waiting for a response, Botan gives you a wink. Some of your blood is still at the corner of your mouth.

https://pastebin.com/6mnbfxiP
Something short. I like the idea of Botan being somewhat controlling with what she wants, given how lionesses lead the Pride and all that. She's (probably) pretty nice though, as long as you follow orders.